Yesterday, I put my weimaraner down. Words can't come close to describing the joy he brought into my life.
For a good amount of the day, I was playing The Beatles' "Blackbird" - mainly for the lyrics "Take these broken wings and learn to fly" and "All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to be free."
Then, a stronger feeling gripped me. I remember hearing the second to the last song on The National's High Velvet album. I remember feeling drained when I listened to it, but in a good way - like a purging.
Matt Berninger's vocals may be more articulate than most indie lead vocalists, but his baritone can sometimes send you to a lyrical website to decipher some of the lyrics. Little did I know the first refrain pretty much summed up this entire day:
"Someone send a runner through the weather I am under for the feeling that I've lost today" -
To say that I've lost a feeling is an understatement. But honestly, what better way to phrase up this day than that statement? Feelings are one of the most important elements in being human, and the thought of one of those feelings that are part of your makeup being lost - perhaps never to be found again - is like losing a part of your self.
The song's focus is someone who has moved (fled?) from a previous area. The song's protagonist flatly observes "You must be somewhere in London / You must be loving your life in the rain." As someone who has routinely thought about moving/fleeing my home state, I can readily identify with lines like " You put an ocean and a river between everybody / Between everything, yourself and home."
Though this has little to do with the opening refrain, the final refrain is staring me in the face for the next few days : "afraid of the house / stay the night with the sinners" I'm not looking forward to the next few days - going home not to see a dog on the couch. Feeling that "I need to get home and let Jake out - I've been gone for almost six hours" - and then realizing you no longer have a need to go home.
"England" doesn't sum up what I'm feeling right now. But it shows that sometimes, and entire song isn't necessary to sum up your feelings. Sometimes a simple refrain is all that's needed.
I could insert a lame story of why I haven't posted anything in the last two months but the fact is I messed up and got a little too busy with work and some projects. Now, we're back and kicking off again with the 25 Songs of Christmas. What? Yes, 25 Songs In 25 Days!
Oh, and we are also kicking it off with a special teaser. Like Relient K's "12 Days Of Christmas" since it's a great twist of an overplayed song that you'll be hearing for the next month.
So at this point, I'll like to ask, "What's a partridge and what's a pear tree?"
A well-worn cliche in music is that what's not said or heard in a song can be as important as what's heard. A textbook version of this is Dylan's "Most of the Time."
I initially heard this one from one of the scores of Dylan "bootleg" releases (the excellent bootleg series that included his Oh Mercy/Time Out of Mind/Love and Theft period). But the song was familiar enough for some reason, and it was only after a bit of research that I discovered it was featured in a pivotal scene in High Fidelity, a movie that all music geeks should have in their collection.
Pay no mind to the slightly glossy video and production. The song itself is among Dylan's best, and unfortunately buried in one of his lesser albums (Oh Mercy). It's pure late-era Dylan. A woman wronged him. And you're hearing the voice of a man with a scarred heart.
Of course, according to the song, things are going OK.
"Most of the time I'm clear and focused all around
Most of the time I can keep both feet on the ground"
His resilience continues....
"I can handle I stumble upon / I don't even notice she gone
Most of the time"
Of course, the key is "most of the time."
His bitterness grows, but never in a wallowing self-pity tone. He even goes as far as to not give her a name.
"I can survive and I can endure
And I don't even think about her
Most of the time"
The "most of the time" is the stuff that tears you up. It's the reason Dylan spent a bit more time emphasizing "her" - adding a slight growl at the end. For true effect, go to the original recording from "Oh Mercy" - and let the final atmospherics by Daniel Lanois engulf you.
As you probably have guessed, we haven't been doing the best in getting stuff pushed daily. Scott has a wicked cold. I've had three articles due....tonight - and a hellishly brutal workweek. So SOL will be taking a hiatus this week due to burnout.
But I feel bad not giving readers something, so in the spirit of the reason for the brief hiatus...
This past week was a test. Work had me there until 7 at night. Then a few hours of take-home work. Meaning I left my dog at home to fend for himself and...hold it - for a full 11 hours. I had deadlines at my newspaper I freelance for - and I couldn't get near the progress I wanted on two stories I was writing. If stress can make you sick, I was living proof on Thursday, Friday and Saturday.
Then I heard about the senseless tragedy at Rutgers where a student took his life after an intimate moment was filmed without his knowledge - and then posted to the Internet. A combination of sleep deprivation and stress has a way of scrubbing your nerves saw, leaving you exposed to the slightest negativity. And in this situation, I went for my "go to" song, Jarvis Cocker's "Running the World."
The song was written in response to the relative lack of interest/impact of Live 8. The song's striking cynicism was enough to make Blur's Damon Albarn to publicly chastise Cocker for the song. But I defy Damon to answer whether or not he's ever felt what Cocker was singing about. Over a simple, mournful piano chord, Jarvis keeps the drama to a minimum, going with a plainspoken delivery:
"Well did you hear, there’s a natural order.
Those most deserving will end up with the most. That the cream cannot help but always rise up to the top, Well I say: Shit floats."
He then surveys the damage of a worldwide economic crash (a year before it actually happened even!). If these were spoken by any other angst-ridden singer or even co-worker or associate, you may tire of its perpetual bleak outlook, but Cocker manages to give it a weary elegance.
"Now the working classes are obsolete, They are surplus to societies needs, So let ‘em all kill each other,
And get it made overseas."
The final verse is almost a rip-off of The Clash's "Know Your Rights" where Joe Strummer said "You have a right to free speech - as long as you're not dumb enough to actually try it". Cocker's version:
"And if you don’t like it? Then leave. Or use your right to protest on the street, Yeah, use your rights but don’t imagine that it’s heard, Oh no no"
The vulgar chorus is the shock value, but honestly, the song is so well structured, I would have been fine with Cocker singing "Jerks are still running the world." Just what he said was a bit more effective. And I praise him for having the stones to release a song as beautifully bleak as this.
Speaking of beautifully bleak, the song plays in the credits of one of the best films of the last decade, Children of Men. If you haven't tracked it down yet, by all means do so. Your future college-aged sophomore geeks will be obsessing over this movie just as geeks today obsess over Blade Runner.
Ever have one of those days where the person in the gaudy car cuts you off with an illegal driving tactic despite you doing the speed limit?
Ever feel like you're content just being average because you know how to be happy with being modest?
Well, as a guy who runs www.GHOSTBUSTING.net and dressing like a Ghostbusters ever so often,for things like Halloween, it might be a little hard to believe that I am happy with being modest and working with what is average.
Anywoo, tonight I present to you a song by a band called Dredg. See, a year ago I was transferred with my job and ended up bumping into a childhood friend of my older brother. Buddy and I have some stories that go way back and other stories; well I embellished a lot on the past experiences that Buddy and I had from getting kicked out of Sunday School to getting wounded in the face with a Ninja Turtles' pizza thrower. Since I was working with Buddy for a while, I got to pick up on some of his tastes in music and honestly, I'm rather jealous of the amazing collection of bands that he has in his playlist.
One of them being Dredg. And Dredg has an amazing song about modesty and being content.
I'm very dark and poetic; sometimes gothic. I'm sure Sean would second that statement about me. I mean, my music collection goes from Stabbing Westward to Gravity Kills or Depeche Mode to The Cure or Kill Hannah to The Birthday Massacre.
But sometimes, sometimes, I can be happy. Like I might toss on something to my playlist that has nothing to do with being sad. Can you imagine that?
Well, she just happened to cross my mind. The powerful sound of ska from The Mighty, Mighty Bosstones just happened.
I'm at my desk, listening to Sound Opinions (soundopinions.org). This week's program is about sophomore albums that WORK. Usually, a band succumbs to the dreaded sophomore slump. It could be for various reasons. My gut reaction is that a band's first album is an album that has to be made for the band. The band will oftentimes have to drudge through their day or night shift jobs, sink their money or non-money (credit cards) into making the album. These albums inevitably showcase a band at their hungriest.
Then, if they're lucky, success happens. In some cases, they don't have anything left to say. It's the same thing that hangs across great writers - as great as they are, they may only have one album in them. In other cases, a band gets lazy or complacent. They go from selling t-shirts at the back of their cars to pay for the gas to go to the next town, to having everything handed to them. And with the inevitable record contract comes the burden of releasing an album out of obligation.
But some artists are able to transcend this sophomore slump. Think Radiohead's The Bends, think Cowboy Junkies The Trinity Sessions, think Morphine's Cure For Pain, and think A Tribe Called Quest's The Low End Theory. Two great genres separated by a huge generation gap, jazz and hip-hop, find a great marriage with The Low End Theory. "Check The Rhyme" is one of those songs that if anyone hates hip-hop, I defy them to listen to it and not be at least partially swayed to not discredit the entire genre. Sophisticated, flawlessly executed and just plain fun, "Check the Rhyme" is a high point in '90s hip-hop.
The raspy vocals Mark Oliver Everett are an instrument in themselves but the lo-fi band known as The Eels is more than just Everett's vocals. So with that part said, I'm going to move to the next part and actually introduce today's SoL; which is obviously going to be from The Eels. The song? Well, it's "I'm Going To Stop Pretending That I Didn't Break Your Heart."
One of the great things I love about The Eels is the fact that their songs always keep up the same consistency of Everett's vocals, the plucking of guitar strings, and melancholy.
Anyway, sorry about the short posts and lack of involvement lately - getting ready and pumped up for a series of comic book conventions and the year anniversary of www.GHOSTBUSTING.net!
Say what you want about Fiona Apple. She's flighty. She's moody. She's erratic. But pity the person who underestimates her.
Apple of course entered the pop culture psyche with the eerie, voyeuristic video "Criminal." It had a nice hook. But a girl with a piano - Tori Amos already had that angle covered. As if anyone would tell a dude who picked up a guitar "Sorry, Springsteen's already filling that niche."
The best songwriters have easily-identifiable talents. You hear a Fountains of Wayne song, you're probably going to hear a tale of "7:30 a.m. to 5:30 p.m." cubicle woes. A u2 song will probably be about something...big. A Pavement song will be about...whatever the hell it's supposed to be about.
But as for Fiona Apple, chances are, a metaphor will be front and center. On the vague "Extraordinary Machine", Apple sings about taking whatever people say or think about her, and making the most out of it. On "Paper Bag", a perceived bird turns out to be a paper bag. However, as a certain notable movie showed us in that year, a bag could be a thing of beauty.
Her metaphor streak first showed up on "Shadowboxer", from her album Tidal. In that song, her significant (or soon to be ex-significant) other has turned into a sparring partner, as his actions - be it verbal or not - are treated as jabs. "I wanna be ready for what you do," Apple sings in a weary voice that almost seems like an act for a teenager. But when she sings "But I'll be sure to stay wary of you, love / to save the pain of once my flame and twice my burn" - you know it's the real deal.
Sorry for the lateness on this one. Battling a fever and a stomach virus.
In the late '80s and early '90s, rap was famously known as "The black CNN." But growing up in the late '80s and early '90s, I saw a lot of well-to-do high schoolers blasting NWA from their BMWs. And to be honest, I think a lot of rappers took advantage of this suburban type of urban fantasy by embellishing some of their bios. It's not different than what some outlaw country artists did a few decades before.
But Ice Cube was a different story. I wasn't too keen on gangsta rap in early '90s for its incessant posturing. But one listen to Ice Cube's "Today Was A Good Day" changed my outlook almost instantly. Instead of hearing stories about drive-bys and revenge, we heard Ice Cube detailing an utterly normal day to middle America, but a rarity for someone who is actually living in the environment Ice Cube routinely painted.
Cube expertly weaves in a few monotonous details - watching Yo MTV Raps, getting a fat burger at two in the morning and not getting pulled over by the cops. Cube also weaves in more poignant details - "plus nobody I know got killed in South Central L.A." Cube's frank delivery gave that line a stark realism that was missing in more than 90 percent of gangsta rap at that time. It was one of the few times where the information felt more like a letter from a warzone than a Grand Theft Auto fantasy.
A couple years ago, I had the joy of having to borrow my a friend's car while my car was in the shop for repairs. During that horrible three day marathon driving, I was stuck with a radio; and no CD player or mp3 input devices. I was cursed with FM stations. And out of nowhere, there was something airborne and toxic going through the frequencies. No, not Britney Spears either.
It was some type of airborne toxic event going on. In fact, it was sometime around midnight. It started with a stringed orchestra, a mellow rock sound, and an emotional vocalist with just as emotional lyrics. Oh, this was The Airborne Toxic Event and it was Sometime Around Midnight. I pulled myself over to make sure to scribble that information down when I got home. I would then spend the next couple weeks of 2008 awaiting for August to come so I get this debut album for this band.
So fast forward, the album comes out literally right before I have to be sent away for job training and while I should be looking for the last bits of what I need to travel, I am instead hunting down this album for such a small and unknown band. Finally found it and rip it straight into iTunes so I can make it portable for this long flight to Texas from New Jersey. All I can do is hope that the rest of the album is half as good as their one song.
The Airborne Toxic Event failed to disappoint. "This Is Nowhere" became one of my favorite songs and this CD would end up living in my CD player for that car for the next year and rarely would be taken out. Literally, I could listen to this album 6 hours straight and still fall in love with each time I listened.
So I present to you, "This Is Nowhere" and tell you, it's the only song I know that uses the word, accoutrements. And it also makes you question things.
File Under Easy Listening has been maligned for being too similar to Copper Blue. And no doubt, I'm in that camp. Whenever I see this album on Amazon, I see it in the one-cent ghetto. In local record stores, it's usually on that huge wall of CDs that's marked "3 for $3", along with CDs from Deadeye Dick and a Backstreet Boys single.
But like most of Bob Mould's post-Husker Du output (at least before he dabbled into techno), there was at least a genuine stab at creating a truly great pop song. That was Bob Mould's Moby Dick. Yes, there were tons of moments on albums like Zen Arcade that had Mould screaming at the top of his lungs amidst a wall of ear-piercing feedback, but he also had an amazing sense of rhythm, which was accentuated on the brilliant New Day Rising.
So, I've spent the last couple of weeks transferring any remaining CDs that didn't make it to my removable hard drive...to my removable hard drive. It's a great way to rediscover some works that have been gathering some serious dust (see Virgin Suicides soundtrack, Smashing Pumpkins' "Zero" maxi-single, complete with a 20-minute plus song). Sure enough, File Under Easy Listening came up.
The album is no Copper Blue, but it certainly doesn't deserved to be left with stacks of other forgotten CDs at a failing record store. If only for the song "Gee Angel." It's pure Sugar - watery guitar riffs, Mould's driving vocals and a chorus that's difficult to shake.
The video is also a great snapshot of mid-90s nostalgia. The video's effects are so dated, they take on an endearing quality. The cartoons in the video are great - utterly familiar...you've seen these things before, but for the life of you, you don't remember where. They're not Warner Bros. They're not Hanna Barbara, they're not Disney, but you swear you've seen them sometime before - maybe on a cheap, locally-produced Sunday morning entertainment show for kids to watch while their moms and dad's get dressed up for church.
There are several songs that kind of are a wake up call to you, the listener. This one, particularly, is the defining song of a band called Low vs Diamond. In 2008, Rolling Stone credited these Americans with the being one of the six bands that are defining pop and rock. So today, I present to you, "This Is Your Life."
With guitars that belong out of a Travis album, Low vs Diamond instantly captivates my attention with their sound of melancholily. A slow drumbeat matches the stings and sets the pace as frontman Lucas Field's vocals dig deeply into you when you listen to the lyrics. It's a perfect audial concept that is executed by a band that may, perhaps, be going nowhere.
Greatly written lyrical lines such as, "You reached for the sun; afraid of the day." make up the chorus with other great lines such as:
And after work you are so tired but still a star
So I waited all day by your side
It's starting to wear on my pride
So go do what you want
I won't ask why
'Cause I'm leaving all this by my side
And I'm starting to wear all my pride
This song is clearly, about someone no longer willing to be manipulated or controlled but not wishing to fight with the oppressor.
The debut album from Low vs Diamond is their only published work; with very little reason elsewhere to believe that there could be a second album since the release of their self-titled album in 2008. They were amazing when I saw them live in 2009 with Jack's Mannequin and Matt Nathanson.
Honestly, with this indie band from California, I'd like to see them pair up with New York's Longwave for a tour.
I spent a good amount of this weekend ignoring the political posturing and the outrage about the anything but Christian preacher burning the Koran and the mosque debate and went back to the source for all of this. I watched the first full hour of coverage from that Tuesday morning on MSNBC. Then, I sat glued to the History Channel, feeling all sorts of helpless and depressed as I saw the videos from people who were watching this for the first time - those who are without a media filter - so their reactions, no matter how many times you've seen those burning towers, still tear through you.
Then, I switched to YouTube and went back to Ryan Adams video "New York New York." It was shot in one entire day in New York City. It was initially an unremarkable video - an entire day in New York. Flashes of traffic going by, people zooming through the sidewalks, and that view of Ryan Adams in front of the Twin Towers.
That Saturday, that footage probably went to a mixer. 72 hours later, the Twin Towers would be gone.
There are literally hundreds of videos that are better than "New York New York." There were probably a dozen superior videos in 2001. But in my opinion, this took "Video of the Year" honors - without question. Yes, there were other videos that were technically better, there were other videos that were far more original. But no video affected me like this one as it is one of the most gripping snapshots of a 9/10 world.
I wanted to write about Interpol today, but unfortunately a jingle lodged in my ear. "Marconi plays the mamba" from what Blender deemed the worst song of all time.
Starship's "We Built This City"
Readers, feel free to visit another site now. And I apologize for bringing this one up, but as Stuck On Loop pledges, we examine the music that we can't get out of our head. Good and bad.
I'll sum this up for younger readers. Jefferson Starship was a counterculture '60s band that sang about drug use ("White Rabbit") and lust ("Somebody to Love") amongst other rock and roll topics. Then, creative differences and drug use sank the band. But like so many bands of the '60s, they cleaned up their act and like so many '60s figures of the '80s, found a way to make gobs of money in the Reagan era. They changed their name a few times. Added some synth. And threw in some American jingoism at the height of Rambo/Rocky mania.
The song purports to be a celebration of the rebellious spirit of rock and roll, but it couldn't be further from the truth. As Jefferson Airplane stemmed from San Francisco, "We Built This City", according to songwriter Bernie Taupin, was about Los Angeles. Grace Slick, once the face of the counterculture, was now mugging in front of the camera, '80s perm and all. As Blender aptly sums up the song, it sounds like it was written in a lab.
Driving home today, desperate to get the song out of my head, I thought of an episode of House. In the episode, one of the doctors said a patient's levels were only off by one percent. House shoots back "If her DNA was off by one percent, she'd be a dolphin."
Which, inevitably gets me back to "We Built This City." We know how much this song sucks, but I'm all about finding some sort of raw material to salvage in the garbage heap. For this song, it's one, amazingly stupid, but towering chorus: "Marconi plays the mamba." Forget the rest. Just keep that phrase. It's amazingly stupid, but it has a towering buildup that would make Oasis envious. It's also a phrase stupid enough to get a pass by AC/DC. Hell, if AC/DC used that line in a song about building a city out of rock and roll, critics would call them brilliant.
The other salvageable item of the song is the premises of building a city out of rock and roll. Strip away the keyboards, the sanitized vocals, and the amazingly hypocritical anti-corporation spiel, transport Los Angeles to the depressed city of Detroit and you've got a basis of a song that blues worshipers The White Stripes or The Black Keys could have penned.
But you can't strip away the gloss from Starship's song. It made them a ton of money. And for all its awfulness and its representation of all things that sucked in the '80s, it still serves a purpose. Kids, if you're lucky enough to make a living with your art, keep your head on straight or you may have to resort to writing a song like this to pay the bills.
There's always this eerie chill of cosmic coldness that pierces my skin and makes me shiver when I hear this spacey riffs from The Catherine Wheel's song, "Black Metallic." Like I can have on my iTunes with Shuffle Mode on and not hear a single song in the background of what I am doing but the second the chords are started, I feel the coldness overcome inside me my insides vibrate with feeling and awareness.
The vocals of Rob Dickinson, as always, are nothing short of greatness. The song itself has been interpreted several times but the popular one seems to be that Rob is singing about someone who he is trying to emotionally connect to but to no avail. The black metallic part is either referencing a black shiny stone or a black car, hence the metallic part.
It's odd though, with the echoing of sound of the Catherine Wheel making me cold, I feel energized and alive during this song. And to think, when I was younger, I hated this song but I supposed I never understood it.
I was a fan of Black Mountain's In the Future album. As a hard rock fan, it was bracing to hear a newer hard rock band that didn't have a vocalist that sounded like Cookie Monster or a dentist drill.
When the release date of their latest album, Wilderness Heart was announced, I quickly put it up on my "Most Anticipated of 2010" list.
Unfortunately, the first song, the unfortunately-titled "The Hair Song", is giving me much reason to celebrate. Gone is the King Crimson-sized ambition of the band's previous album. In its stead is some serious-indebted sounds of the '70s. The riffs sound like recycled Led Zep riffs.
But the hook does stick with you. And Amber Webber's vocals definitely are easy to the ear. So, despite its worst inclinations, the song does remain, like a McDonald's value meal that you consume at lunch, knowing full and well you'll be asleep at your keyboard in two hours.
Time for another English band to talked about by me. And this time, it's a crusty-punk band from West Yorkshire. With several visas denied resulting in many cancelled tours, New Model Army is quite the interesting band.
Well, today's a holiday and I'll keep this one short.
To all those who blame the unions for everything from outsourcing woes to our failing school system, all I can say is that I hope to see you at your desk or your workstation on Monday. Yes, unions can be corrupt, but in general, you can thank your union man for having a 40-hour work week, if you're 14, you can thank a union person for child labor laws and if you work in a factory, you can thank a union person for having a decent set of safety rules.
For union sympathizers, few can touch Boston's Dropkick Murphys. As a fan of the Clash, and I hope Scott won't disfriend me for saying this, Dropkick Murphys may be the closest thing America has to The Clash right now, moreso than even in Rancid's heyday. Like The Clash, they are decidedly blue collar. Like The Clash, they have a sense of rhythm that varies from punk to ska to ale-raising pub anthems. And like The Clash, they are not afraid to let their feelings be known.
So workers of the world, unite and enjoy a free Monday by adding Dropkick Murphys to your soundtrack.
For two solid summers, I, like millions of folks, have worried about where my next paycheck is coming. Is it from my job, or the unemployment line? Luckily this year has been far more rooted in security than last summer. Still, I can remember where summer was spent working part-time jobs, enjoying a few months off from school and going to sleep when you felt like it (unless you had to work the morning shift).
There is a lot to be said for having security in numbers. And in the case of college, that security was roommates. You could work part-time because you had maybe two or three other people to split the utilities. Summer was like a three-month security blanket. Like a summer movie to entertain you for at least two hours.
And speaking of security blankets, enter Temple of the Dog's "All Night Thing." The opening chords and Chris Cornell's soothing voice "She motioned to me" hits your ears seem to automatically put you at ease. For those too young to remember, Temple of the Dog was a band that was formed to pay tribute to Andy Wood, who died of a heroin overdose. The members of Soundgarden and Pearl Jam made an album that totally complemented each other's styles. It gave Soundgarden a lyrical and poetic depth and it provided some metal to Pearl Jam's sound.
The song is self-explanatory. Something will happen between two people that will result in "an all night thing." With the piano backdrop, the song feels like it could be played on your local NPR's "last call" jazz program before switching on to BBC news. The circumstances surrounding the making of the album are anything but serene, but Cornell's warm vocals wrap around you like a blanket on a brisk autumn night.
Honestly, is there a better artist out there than Bob Dylan when it comes to delivering a great kiss-off to an ex, or even to someone you would have hoped to get to a stage that you could call him/her an ex?
Sure, you have the screamo champions out there, yelling at the top of their lungs about how a girl just stomped their heart into the ground. And for an older folk like me, it was Trent Reznor, singing about how he's now a "fading f*%*ing reminder of who I used to be" thanks to a woman in "Something I Can Never Have." And of course, if you're REALLY ticked off, your garden variety gangsta rap song will do for some quick catharsis.
But, to steal the cliche, time does heal wounds. And what would make a woman or man who wronged you angrier: Someone who is yelling and screaming in tears on the phone about how they ruined their life, or someone saying flatly, almost logically "You just kinda wasted my precious time..."
"Sugar Baby" is the second "epic" closer in Bob Dylan's phenomenal one-two punch (Time Out of Mind and Love And Theft) in the late '90s/early '00s. In "Highlands", the character summed up "the sun is beginning to shine on me, but it's not like the sun that used to be." On "Sugar Baby", the character has his back to the sun because "the light is too intense."
True, if they were sung by a lesser artist, critics wouldn't give a pass to a chorus like "Sugar baby get on down the road / you ain't got no brains nohow / you went years without me / 'might as well keep going now." But Dylan's grizzled, haunted voice, which sounds like wind whistling through the floorboards, packs a whallop.
Dylan's got bigger themes to tackle than just a breakup. Even if you're not a Dylan fan, I challenge anyone not to nod in agreement after a horrible day in their life when he says "every moment of existence seems like some dirty trick." He holds on to "dirty", giving it a bit of a growl. Then he flatly says "Happiness can come suddenly then leave just as quick."
26. Eleven Miles Out. By Doves. Now, anyone who knows me should know that Doves are one of my favorite bands. There's a calmness and a depressing side to their music. Now, this song is about being eleven miles out in a darker sea and sailing away. Now, this deep cut is interesting because Doves rarely curse and the line, "Don't let the f---less grind you down." feels perfect. It's a b-side to their Some Cities album; which had the overall theme of needing to find a place to fit in.
25. So I like shoegazer music and UK bands. And they just happen to be depressing sometimes. Rob Dickinson's band, (The) Catherine Wheel had a great song called, "Eat My Dust You Insensitive F---" which is nothing at all like the title. The song is about being better than how you are and not settling.
24. The Sunny Day Real Estate is perhaps one of my guiltier bands on my playlist. I'd like to say that Seven was probably the first song from them that I fell in love with. Just start listening to this song and "You taste it, you taste it. In time."
23. I can't move away from the Sunny Day Real Estate without wanting to mention The Fire Theft. Now, Jeremy was the vocalist for both bands. And while Heaven is not their best track, it was the first track I heard after SDRE broke up.
22. Kasabian's Underdog. It's a motivational song to me. I know, I have a weird taste in music and everything, but this song's about not being taken down easily. Definitely a great song that often finds its way on my playlist.
21. I'm from New Jersey and not in love with Bruce or Bon Jovi so I have to compromise. And with that compromise, I'll give you The Gaslight Anthem. "That '59 Sound" is such an upbeat song with such dark lyrics.
20. The acoustic sounds of Jeffrey Gaines will always be in my head. While his cover of "In Your Eyes" will come to my mind, I cannot neglect his own work. Coming in at #20, is "Hero In Me."
19. Moby's "Mistake." Great lyrics and great visuals. Enough said. :)
18. The late Elliot Smith with "Everybody Cares, Everybody Understands" comes in on my list.
17. Now this is funny; a rare b-side cover of a b-side from Dynamite Hack. Yes, Dynamite Hack made a cover/b-side of a deepcut of their own music. I liked the original but this version with the vocalist's sister singing and doing the song on the piano gave a great song a different meaning.
16. In the last two years of my life, I have started to crush on this band called The Receiving End of Sirens. With deep emotions entrenched with great instrumentals, each one of their songs tells a story. "Pale Blue Dot" is a great romance story.
15. Hailing from the UK is the amazing Idelwild with "Tell Me Ten Words." I've actually used the lyrics from this song on a couple first dates as a conversation piece. I'd like to know the ten words people would use to describe the world to people. ;)
14. "Nrrrd Grrrl" by MC Chris. It's a cute love song by Hess/MC Pee Pants from Adult Swim. MC Chris and I might not agree on a lot of things but we have the same taste in women, apparently.
13. 65daysofstatic's "Drove Through The Ghosts To Get Here" is a beautiful experimental sound. If I had to pick a song from their discography, it would have to be this one.
12. Now, this isn't as easy it seems. I'm trying to cram all my favorites in a small grouping and also think what counts. Plus, as you can see, I'm running out of steam. So, for #12, I give you Cake's "The Distance."
11. M83's "We Own The Sky" is a new addiction but the song is so great, it deserves to be on this list down here. The song, to me, is about how humans think we have the rights to do whatever we want and then end up being able to stop it.
And now we are in the last 10.
10. Collective Soul was there for me during the 90s and up until college. Dosage was the first CD I recall buying with my own money. "Run" was the song that I burnt out CD players on because I'd loop it.
9. "Do You Believe In Me?" by The Juliana Theory makes it in at a spot near the top songs that I love. With energy, great lyrics, and instrumentals, this band bypasses other great bands like Muse and Jimmy Eat World.
8. The band known as Stabbing Westward was a great band. "Save Yourself" will always be the best song they ever did.
7. A's "Monkey Kong" takes the seventh spot.
6. Jacob Dylan covering David Bowie. How can we not like that? The Wallflowers did this amazing track, "Heroes."
5. In 2001, I found The Beautiful Mistake. In 2005, I saw them at CBGBs. I'll always remember who I am and "This Is Who You Are."
4. "Sultans of Swing" by Dire Straits play into this spot. Several long drives at night with the windows down and this song being blasted as I sped into the abyss.
3. Sean will tell you that he thinks I am the goth by from New Jersey. Because I like Tim Burton? No. It's because I love Depeche Mode and The Cure. "Fly On The Windscreen" is actually my favorite Depeche Mode song.
2. The Clash is my favorite punk band. "Magnificent Seven" is a must for any Clash fan.
1. And now, I can finally rest... "Dead Man's Party" by Oingo Boingo seals the position for favorite song of all time.
As I write this blog, it will be the last post I make as a 25 year old. When I wake up, I'll be a year older. Apparently a year wiser and some other things should be changed. Maybe that feeling that I'm alone will be gone. Everyone wants to feel unique but I'm on the side of feeling alien sometimes. But you know, we all go there sometimes. And it's nice to find someone who understands you.
Finch understands that sentiment all too well with "What It Is To Burn." It's a song about empathy and having someone else understand your burden. Starting off with a screamo and emo opening, Finch sets the audial stage with a scream of "She burns." and follow it some heavy drums and instrumentals. It almost mixes love and pain together with the great chorus of, "Like a bad star, I'm falling faster down to her. She's the only one who knows what it is to burn."
Tune in tomorrow for the 26 songs that I will turn 26 with.
As summer winds down, I thought I'd bring out one of the best songs of the summer. When the term "summer song" comes on, you start thinking that you may hear the equivalent of a Nerds candy rope: something that provides a brief rush, but has absolutely no nutritional value whatsoever. I'm thinking of *NSync, I'm thinking of Wil Smith's "Summertime" (actually a decent song), or that Perry girl's summer song (the one with the candy cane bra).
So what a relief when one breezy song comes on that doesn't come with its own dentist appointment. Luscious Jackson signed on to the Beastie Boys Grand Royal. Like the Beastie Boys they played their own instruments. Like the Beastie Boys, they had hip-hop elements in their songs. And like the Beastie Boys, they released some great albums.
If you're looking for a Luscious Jackson entry point, look no further than "Naked Eye." Actually, take this song for what it is - a remix, doable, but not nearly as sweet as the original (which has embedding blocked on YouTube, but here's a link to the vid anyway). If this song doesn't make you a convert, you may be suffering from a neurological impairment.
Like The Beach Boys' best songs, "Naked Eye" has a gift of having a hidden chorus that only reveals itself to a careful listener, or a listener who has listened to the song repeatedly. The chorus has Jill Cunniff singing in a cool tone "With my naked eye...the falling rain coming down on me." The vocal is so far in front and the drums are so crisp that the underlying chorus almost goes unnoticed. But it's there.
"It feels all right...It feels all right" is repeated in a monotone. It's soothing enough to be a mantra. So soothing that oftentimes at work, home or anywhere else, when things get out of control, I find myself muttering "It feels all right...It feels all right." As Labor Day nears, be sure to give Luscious Jackson's Fever In Fever Out another spin if you have it in your collection. It's the summer anthem for the art student in us all.
So I may have been getting heavy with all the political subjects lately so I'm going to take it back a couple steps and talk about the amazingly underrated Australian electronic band called "The Avalanches." Now most people don't know of any really good bands from Australia besides INXS but now, you can say you know of a second one; The Avalanches.
Now, I'm not going to lie and say I know a lot about this band. Or their discography. Actually, what I do know is that my iTunes is completely lacking in this band and that all I have to listen to them is from YouTube and a friend of mine, let's call him Mac or Sam, introduced me to the one song that I know by them about a year ago.
And this song is called... Frontier Psychiatrist.
Now, instrumentally, this song is catchy, with various sampling, scratching, and drum beats. The lyrics are like a hodgepodge of various people saying probably the most random things you can ever hear. After checking up with Wikipedia, I came to this discovery; "The song contains samples from 37 spoken word records.[1] The main choir and organ sample is taken from the Enoch Light recording "My Way of Life", and the track's opening words are taken from the John Waters film Polyester. Also sampled are audio samples from comedians Flip Wilson and Wayne and Shuster (the latter whose track "Frontier Psychiatrist" serves as the basis for the track), drums from Harvey Mandel's "Wade in the Water", a sample from the movie The Burbs, "Overture" by Maurice Jarre and the guitar from Flo Sandon's' "El Negro Zumbon". The horse squeal is also taken from Mel and Tim's Good Guys Only Win In The Movies."
To top it off, the audio is not just the masterpiece. The music video is amazing. Seriously... The drumming grandma, the ghosts dancing, and anything else. I really like the coconut puppet.
I was supposed to cover The Call for The Daily Nebraska when they played at Knickerbockers in Lincoln, NE in 2000. At the time, the band was enjoying a slight resurgence in popularity, thanks to Al Gore selecting their song "Let the Day Begin" as his campaign song. Still, even with Al Gore's endorsement, the band could only get 200 people to come out and see their show.
200. This coming from a band that scored a number one hit only a few years before with "Let the Day Begin." This from a band whose fans included Peter Gabriel and Bono. But 2000 was totally different landscape than 1987. When the band took the stage, I couldn't help but feel sorry for them. What are they going to say to each other after they load their gear in the bus?
But any pity I felt for the band was erased midway through the first song. Lead singer Michael Been closed his eyes and let out one of his soulful cries. It's a voice that's unmistakable once you hear it. Writing Been's type of music has never been "cool." He doesn't hide his Christianity, but he never resorted to preaching. He sang about family, commitment and simple joys, but the catch was that he was so sharp a songwriter that the song never resorted to cornball sentiment.
After The Call disbanded, Been did what any great father would do: he spent the rest of his life supporting his son, who is in the band Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, either through mentoring the band or even taking the ever humble reigns as sound engineer. Here's hoping any person who discovers the movie The Lost Boys will pause and track down the band who wrote that great track "I Still Believe."
Sometimes it's the videos you find on youtube that make you accept who you are. Seriously, as dorky as that sounds, it's true. I often stay out of the political ballpark because I know if I'm up to bat, I might end up having to use the sports equipment as a weapon. Just because sometimes these debates get to be too heated. Sometimes the people I talk to about politics just are too extreme and they don't care about how or what I feel; they just want to spit out any thought that forms in the back of their head as a tangible argument against whatever issues or concerns or statements I have.
If you ask Sean, I'm not a fan of Obama. Most of my friends know that. I'm not against everything he has done but I'm not in favor of him. I'm also not a fan of Bush (Junior Edition), Clinton, or Bush (Senior Edition). Heck, Reagonomics weren't even that great. Every now and then when I tell someone that I am not a supporter of Obama, I'm told it's because I'm racist. Truth be told, I am not a fan of most of the presidents we have had so I guess if I'm not a fan of Obama because he's black, I don't like white people. But that's the extreme liberal side's argument. Let's talk about our good friends the Right Winged Conservatives. I'm told by them that I'm a Communist or a Socialist if I like some ideas that go against their ways.
The last presidential election was a tough call. I was not a Obama or a McCain supporter. And anytime McCain gained an inch of favor, Palin would instantly take a foot back. I actually wanted for Hillary Clinton to run and win. So I guess I was not going to be happy either way. The same with the Bush and Kerry Election.
Maybe I'm at the snapping point of my sanity; which I wouldn't doubt. I've become more or less as socially awkward as Egon Spengler and starting being able to rationalize things rather than have an opinion at times or jumped into the madness of Deadpool because I can't rationalize the irrational so I'd match their level. But now as I'm watching what is left of my sanity flee, I'm trying to revert back to who I am more or less like; Jack Skellington. A born leader who wanted to change the ways around him. And tragically flawed because he couldn't see the wolves for the forests sometimes and had to take some steps backwards to undo the massive damage he has done. But still sociable. I was thinking about making a political blog/forum where my friends and I can share out views and have calm and friendly debates on the issues but I decided to not go that route, at least yet.
Since we've been able to stand as bipedal creatures, we've found new ways to hurt our neighbors. Fire went from being a tool for survival to a tool to kill your enemies. We had no governments back then either. We were nomadic tribes that looked to the sky for answers. We invented religion. Gods or signs told us what to do. So did the creation of governments. You were told, at first, to worship this man as your link to god. If you disobeyed his decrees, you were going to pay for it in the afterlife; which was coming soon because you were punished for being a heretic. Then came the other rules; you can't eat this meat, you have to have these items in your house, you paid this to your temple, you built shrines, you can only think when commanded to, etc.
Now that's before the whole A.D. era and where are we today? We're regulated with government ideas being forced on you; Obama's healthcare and Bush's War On Terror for some examples and then the whole mess of what the media tells you; the ramble mutterings of the O'Reilly Factor, Hollywood's lust for Obama, television telling you that you have to be below a size 6 to be desirable, homosexuality is a joke/disease, and so many other things.
I think it's time we unplugged ourselves from the electric box that we glue our eyes to for hours on a daily basis, and start trying to figure out the answers ourselves. The government has been spending billions of our tax dollars to try and get the answers. Look into the ideas of Lucius Quinctius Cinnatus. Wait, who is that? It's the man that was called into duty by the Roman Empire to be their dictator for a good portion of the Roman Empire to fend of a siege. After he was successful, they tried to make him a king and he voluntarily turned it down. His original power rights were alloted for six months but he did everything he was supposed to in sixteen days. He was the common man and he cared for the common men around him. In fact, he was only a lowly farmer.
So what are I am looking for with this political argument on a music blog? For someone to start to get people to think on their own. For people to start to question the answers that we are force fed by the electric boxes we use for communication. Do I think there is anyone out there that will help with this? Is there anyone willing to arise to that occasion?
*cough* Maybeshewill. *cough*
I'm no stranger to the UK music world; especially with my love for bands like 65daysofstatic and sometimes I don't like sharing my tastes with everyone but Maybeshewill is the band I'm going to introduce to you today for our song. Maybeshewill is from the United Kingdom and basically an instrumental band with some experimental twists. They are a DYI band and are trying to prove it's possible to make music without spending money; the members of the band are their own managers, producers, and everything else. They're disheartened by the commercialization of the industry.
So where does all this build up to now? This song, "Not For A Want Of Trying," that is composed with heavy instrumentals and a drumbeat to shatter glass combined with an audio clipping from the 1976 cult classic movie, Network, where the fictional newscaster reveals that he is, "...mad as Hell."
And since this song only has that speech clip as lyrics and their instrumentals are astonishing, I figured I'd give you the speech so while you listen to this song, maybe you'll stick your head out the window and realize you aren't going to take it anymore either...
