Archive for the ‘Alternative / Indie’ Category

‘Paranoid Android’ - Radiohead, 1997

Monday, December 1st, 2008

Ah, the rock opera single. Much maligned, it has nonetheless had its enthusiastic exponents. Notable highlights of the genre include ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’, ‘Good Vibrations’ and The Beatles’ ‘Happiness is a Warm Gun’, a direct inspiration for this song. Radiohead updated the template for the late-90s with this tense, unsettling observation on fashion, culture and vapidity - and created a song that artistically rivalled all of the above.

While The Bends was an excellent album, with a top-rate set of guitar-based songs that dealt with isolation, paranoia and a general feeling of dread, 1997’s OK Computer was a revelation. The verse-chorus-verse structure was subverted, the lyrics tried to make metaphors of the daily commute, European integration, loud taling and German automotive engineering. Instead of talking about his own maladjustment, lead singer Thom Yorke widened the issue to include a general malaise in society, one that was directly linked to the way we lived.

For the millions of us on the comedown from Britpop’s hollow journey, this rang very true. Coming as the first single off of OK Computer, ‘Paranoid Android’ was one of the most unlikely hits of all time, while at the same time being strangely comforting in how weird and “far out” it was.

The song is split into four sections, starting with acoustic guitar and a soft guitar figure, with Yorke crying in a high-pitched voice about the “unborn chicken voices in my head”. The first of several great riffs has him dragging out the words “What’s that”. Feelings of impending dread and doom were never felt so keenly since Ian Curtis.

While the song shifts gears, with new riffs and tempos introduced and left behind, Yorke aims at familiar Radiohead themes like ruthless ambition, arrogance, egotism, business networking and so on, juxtaposing these targets with “off with his head”, “panic”, “vomit” and other disturbing feelings.

The general impact on the listener is that the protagonist is having a really bad time at some event or other, and fantasises secretly about molotov-ing (verb?) the whole place, nay the whole world. Vintage Thom Yorke, in other words.

The video is a story on itself - check the Wikipedia article for the background on this. Musically, it’s amazing, especially with headphones on in a darkened room (which I always called “the Pink Floyd experience”). Guitars duel with each other over intermittent feedback bursts, the bass goes all over the register, and the drums switch tempo as the canvas for the madness.

So, then, truly a great moment in music - and OK Computer is the first time I heard an album and considered it a classic on first listen. Here’s the video for ‘Paranoid Android’.

‘Not a Job’- Elbow, 2003

Friday, November 28th, 2008

Elbow are receiving some long overdue credit this year due to the winning of the Mercury Prize winning album The Seldom Seen Kid released earlier this year. Their music deserves to be up there with the best indie band in the UK like Radiohead and Gomez. What’s most appealing about them is their ability to draw the listener into their world and make you listen to the album repeatedly as the couple of albums I’ve listened were real slow-burners and you only begin to appreciate the album once drawn in. The downside of course is that people may not want to be drawn in and leave the album on the shelve collecting dust but if you do persevere then more often than not it will be worth it. They deserve to be mentioned alongside Gomez and Radiohead for this alone.

The song Not a Job is the third single from the album Cast of Thousands - a stark, layered album dealing with real issues affecting almost everybody - love, drinking, etc although the lyrics often seem, to me at least, to be complex and indecipherable but this song is probably one the most accessible songs on the album (along with Buttons and Zips) in terms of reaching a general audience with it’s beautiful, soft melody. For the most part I think I do get this song as its a breakup song but he’s still hurting and coming to rash decisions which everybody that experiences this comes too. The cold light of day often brings a different perspective.

Words to make her stay: you said
Leave me and the plants die
A panic smile across your face
Corrugated browline
The hissing bitter punchline
Call when you can tie your lace

From this verse he is still bitter over the breakup and the emotions are still raw as ‘when you can tie your  lace’ seems full of contempt for the ex although he does seem to admit this, in a roundabout way from the line above ‘the hissing bitter punchline’. While I did state that their lyrics can be complex and indecipherable, it is still their strongest weapon when you do understand them in someway. An example of complex lyrics in this song are:

‘The dream again nobody understands
Walking through the long grass on your hands
It’s not a job to do today
Sleep it off’

Sometimes I think he’s just saying that nobody understands his feelings better than himself and to explain them is like ‘Walking through grass on your hands’ which could be a metaphor for why bother? but he will bother another time. To summarise what I really think about them is…they are a compelling listen at the worst of times.  Here is a link to the video they made for the song.

‘Katrina’ - Black Lips, 2007

Thursday, November 27th, 2008

I like this song, but I think I’d have liked it more if it came out in 1965 or 1976. Black Lips claim to be “flower punks”, but if this is anything to go by they’re just unashamed retroists, plundering every trick in the riffbooks of the Kinks, the Clash, the Damned or the Ramones.

An extremely simple song, both musically and lyrically, it’s still an exhilirating listen, and would make an excellent song to drink to or put on at a party. The bass and power chording guitar play the same riff the whole way through, while the singer demonises Katrina, which I initially thought was some girl.

But listening to the lyrics, you realise it’s really about Hurricane Katrina (how slow am I on the uptake?) - lines like “you saw a highway down in New Orleans” pretty much give it away.

The guitar solo comes in bursts of high-pitched fretwork and feedback, reminiscent of Raw Power-era Stooges or the Velvet Underground. It adds nicely to the punky feel of the song.

All in all, a simplistic song that’s a damn good listen. The video is here.

‘I Believe In You’ - Talk Talk, 1988

Monday, November 17th, 2008

I always overplay my favourite songs, but this song is different. This song will always be a five-star to me. Always.

Coming from the Spirit of Eden album, a record that I have considered my favourite for a couple of years now, this gem of a song was released as the only single from an album that would never appeal to the masses.

If you don’t know about Talk Talk, read their Wikipedia biography. If you’re still reading, you’ve likely heard the song already. If not, here’s a YouTube clip of the video. This is one of the least likely candidates for a single ever, and that’s why I love it so much.

First thing you’ll notice – doesn’t sound like an ‘80’s tune. Rippling cymbal swooshes, an echoed guitar entrance, a bit of piano. Hollis’ unmistakeable voice doesn’t enter until nearly a minute in, and he’s telling us he’s “seen heroin for myself”. Details are shady on whether this is autobiographical, and I don’t want to know. Hollis paints a beautifully solemn picture of tragic wasted youth, decay, and ultimately death, and that’s all that matters.

The song ends with redemption, Hollis intoning “Spirit – How Long?” over one of the most beautiful soundscapes I’ve ever heard – soft cymbals, brush drums, distant acoustic guitar, muted piano and a children’s choir.

I initially wrote a much longer post about this song, but had to edit it down. As with all the best music, words don’t do justice. Listen now. If you like this, I strongly recommend Spirit of Eden, Laughing Stock, and Mark Hollis’ eponymous solo album. Apparently he’s now retired – such a loss to true music lovers the world over. Here’s the link to the video on YouTube, because my words could never do this song (and the whole Spirit of Eden album) justice

‘Transmission’ - Joy Division, 1979

Monday, November 10th, 2008

Having seen Control there for a second time, I’ve come to the conclusion that Joy Division are possibly the best English band of them all. Certainly, they’re a huge influence on all those bands like Franz Ferdinand, The Editors, and…spleh, I can’t remember any others, but there’s loads. Any band that uses metronomic drumming, angular guitar riffs and a singer who peddles in a vague sense of impending doom – they’ve followed the Joy Division path.

Anyway…Joy Division only had two albums and a few singles before Ian Curtis departed this life of his own hand. ‘Transmission’ is one of those singles, and it’s always been one of my favourite JD tunes. It’s not on either album (not sure why that is, but The Jam and The Beatles had non-album singles too), so you’ve got to hunt it down on a best of. It’s well worth it.

A ghostly burr opens up proceedings, before the bass gets stuck into the riff. When the drums come in, spacey and echo-y yet precise, there’s an almost military march feel. The guitar riff is one of the first bits of guitar-jiggery that I learned, way back in the mid-‘90’s. Curtis’ voice is, as ever, perfect. “Dance, dance, dance, dance to the radio”. Indeed. Here’s a great video (with a quick John Cooper Clarke poem beforehand) one of the few I’ve seen of Joy Division, performing ‘Transmission’ on a TV show. If you like it, check out their two albums, Unknown Pleasures and Closer. Word of warning: don’t listen to the last few songs of Closer if you’ve been drinking gin. Apart from that, knock yourself out.

‘Drunken Butterfly’ - Sonic Youth, 1993

Friday, November 7th, 2008

Well What can one say about the legendary band Sonic Youth
that hasn’t be said already? Going for more than twenty five
years, they are one of the longest running independant
bands ever. Another husband and wife team in the same vein
as other long running indie bands from the US including
Yo La Tengo and Dead Moon et al.

Drunken Butterfly was the fourth single from the album
Dirty which was released in 1992 and the first album to
be released for the DGC label. It’s mad to think that Sonic
Youth were going for well over a decade at this stage.

From the very start, the song is packed with heavy,
distorted and feedback laden guitar work that both Thurston
Moore and Lee Ranaldo are famed for and have at this stage
made an art form out of.  Kim Gordan takes  care of the lead
vocals on this and the main reason I like this song (apart
from the guitar playing) is the way Kim belts out the lines

‘I love you, I love you, I love you, what’s your name?
I love you, I love you, I love you, what’s your name?’

Outside of these lyrics, I really don’t know what the song is
all about but taken them lines into account and the word
Drunken in the title I am always reminded of nights out on
town in the golden days (and maybe nowadays too )
chatting up girls, trying your best to get off with them.  Liquor
was never very far away from the scene of the crime.  Check
out a live video of the song from New York.

‘Supernatural’ - Vic Chesnutt, 1993

Monday, November 3rd, 2008

Vic Chesnutt is a guy based in the town of Athens in the state of
Georgia, a town that has spawned notable musical acts like
R.E.M, Live etc. Live incidently covered this song when they
appeared in the MTV unplugged series. He lost the functionality
of his limbs in a car accident when he was just eighteen years old.

Taken from his third album Drunk, an album in which Chesnutt
himself professes to have been under the influences of narcotics
and alcohol when recordng it and its no surpirse when listening
to the album as it comesacross strongly with numerous
references to various states of human conciousness.

With a simple, acoustic backing, the song is very bare in terms
of instruments, I definitely wouldn’t describe the song as a
ballad, instead I would describe it lyrically as a brutally open
and honest song which probably describes, I think, Chesnutt’s
life as it was during that time with references to ‘demoral’, a
strong painreliever, ‘an out of body experience’ which to me
refers to hallucinations or at least a superficialstate of being that
a person may find themselves in maybe because a huge drama
in their life.

I alway’s like artists when they sing about personal periods of
their life, specifically dark periods in their life as the angst or
struggle seems to effortlessly come across to the listener
verifying again for me that the best songs that I ever had
the experience of listening to are the simple ones in terms of
music composition.

Check out the song here.

‘Man of the hour’ - Pearl Jam, 2003

Tuesday, October 21st, 2008

There’s just something about Eddie Vedder’s voice that I absolutely love but then again anyone with a deep, gravelly voice I like, is that what’s called a Baritone voice? I’m thinking Mic Christopher, Tom Waits, Nick Cave here. As a kid I grew up in the whole grunge era listening to Pearl Jam, Soundgarden, Alice in Chains, The Screaming Trees and Nirvana. I also recall the amount of arguments/disputes I had between friends and foes about who was the best band, that was before I came to the conclusion that all music is good no matter what the opinion is. Nowadays if anyone asks me who my favourite band is I say Pearl Jam and people respond by saying ‘Ten’ is a good album at which point I say (to myself) ‘Fuck sake they do have more than one album’ but thats because personally I’m not a big fan of the first album and think the albums that came out since are better but that’s just me.

Todays song is not a product of any studio album by Pearl Jam but is song that is part of the soundtrack to the film Big Fish that was directed by Tim Burton. In fact Burton approached the band and asked them to contribute a song for the film. The band then went and watched a preview of the film, went home and within a few days had the song recorded. The film itself revolves around the intricate relationship between a father and son that we all have and really gets the emotions feuled up when you watch it. I think the song really captures the essence of what the film is about as can be seen from the following lyrics

‘Nature has its own religion, a gospel from the land
Father ruled by long division, young men they pretend
Old men comprehend.’

which to me basically means that you can’t put an old had on young shoulders so when kids disagree with parents, its the parents that are usually right and as you grow older you realise and appreciate that, even though you didn’t see it at the time. Also the film and song is also about the father’s time being nearly up in this world and that throughout his life, all he wanted to do was teach and love his son which he done in his own way but again the son wouldn’t have always seen it that way, but as the father is on his deathbed, the son thinks about their relationship more and realises that is what his father was trying to do. It’s a lesson all sons could learn from.

‘And the road The old man paved
The broken seems along the way
The rusted signs, left just for me
He was guiding me, love, his own way
Now the man of the hour is taking his final bow
As the curtain comes down
I feel that this is just goodbye for now’

For those who only know Pearl Jam’s earlier recordings, they would immediately recognise that the song, with a few exceptions (better man etc), is not of the usual Pearl Jam variety. Those that have listened to all their albums, and indeed even more so in their last two albums, would realise that the band have progressed big time since their first couple of albums and have grown into a really tight and gifted set of musicians. An extremely mellow song with no distortion, feedback or angry lyrics, this is a beautiful song and I hope this post encourages people to try and check out the bands more recent offerings if you only know of the band because the first few albums. You can check out the song here .

‘New Grass’ - Talk Talk, 1991

Monday, October 20th, 2008

I’m not sure why I haven’t yet blogged about ‘New Grass’, currently my favourite song of all time. I’ve got a draft written somewhere about ‘I Believe in You’, another Talk Talk classic. This band really were something else - from humble synth-based Duran Duran beginnings, they evolved into a group whose later output accumulates more praise and accolades by the year.

Starting with the beautiful Spirit of Eden album, completely out of time and step in 1988, Talk Talk basically redefined progressive rock and actually made it likeable. Marrying a pastoral, country feel to Satie- and Debussy-influenced minimalism, crossed with a bit of Velvet Underground noise, Talk Talk created an album that is a strong contender for best British album of the last 20 years. It got them dropped by their label, who wanted a new Colour of Spring, with its ‘Life’s What You Make It’ standard of poppiness. Instead, they were treated to an LP that didn’t kick off until well into the second minute, and then had as its first side over 20 minutes of music…

But I digress. Talk Talk made two of my favourite albums, and I knew I would write too much about them. To the ear that really listens, ‘New Grass’ can be appreciated as one of the nicest pieces of music ever committed to tape, and to me ranks up there with Beethoven, Lennon/McCartney, you name it. It’s that good.

The fact that it seems to be about God, “Christendom”, ascension to heaven, and other weighty concepts does not bother this here agnostic. Whether or not Hollis found God is immaterial - that he left us with this piece of music is. Hollis is retired now, but there is a growing legion of fans of Spirit of Eden and Laughing Stock that wish he would come back and reprise, and maybe conclude these classics. He went some with with this solo Mark Hollis album, but that was back in 1998. Plus, he’s a fellow Tottenham supporter. Really, what more could you ask? Here’s the link to the song on YouTube. No need to look at anything - just sit back and listen.

‘My My, Hey Hey’ - Neil Young, 1979

Friday, October 17th, 2008

With Des off ogling the young ladies in college today, the onus is on me to provide a song for the day. And what better song, in “the current climate”, than this melancholy little chestnut from Shakey himself? The opener from the startlingly good (given his later output) album Rust Never Sleeps, ‘My My Hey Hey (Out Of The Blue And Into The Black)’ is as good an opener as you’d find in the ’70’s.

Opening with a neat little Am-G-F figure on the acoustic, and obviously live with most of the audience noise removed, Neil Young manages to sum up the by now obvious decline in quality of the aging ’60s generation, and their replacement by the younger, more energetic punks. The almost simplistic first verse hits the nail on the head, while one single line cut right to the core: “It’s better to burn out, than it is to rust”. Kurt Cobain quoted from this song in his suicide note, possibly without realising the ironic gesture Young intended to pass on to the young punks.

The line “The King is gone but he’s not forgotten, This is the story of Johnny Rotten” is a playful comment on the changing-of-the-guard-nature of rock ‘n’ roll, as Elvis passes the mantle onto ‘this year’s model’. The punks and new-wavers who all in turn professed their love of Young hardly realised that they in turn would have to pass it on some day.

A very simple song to sing and play, with a harmonica break in the middle so plaintive that it underlines the riddles being spun by Young. The whole Rust Never Sleeps album is a classic, probably the last really good thing Neil Young did, and it closes with a grungy, feedback-drenched version of the appositely titled ‘Hey Hey, My My’. You’d be hard pushed to find a song that describes the meaningful yet transient nature of rock ‘n’ roll. One day you’re young, the next you’re wondering what the hell the kids are wearing. Here’s a good live version. Gotta love the way he says “Thank you, friends” at the start.