Quite a few songwriters choose Brian as a metaphor for the fine line between genius and madness. Take this one from Brendon Urie...
She said, "You're just like Mike Love But you wanna be Brian Wilson, Brian Wilson" Said, "You're just like Mike Love But you'll never be Dennis Wilson" And I said (Hey! Hey!) If crazy equals genius (Hey! Hey!) If crazy equals genius Then I'm a fucking arsonist (Hey!) I'm a rocket scientist (Hey! Hey!)
I used to think there was an answer In the music of my youth But I just read Brian Wilson's biography And now I know the truth Because his father never loved him And the band just wanted the money And Dennis was an alcoholic Who drowned looking for treasure And everyone who was around him Just gave him drugs and took his money He was dependent on social acceptance Just like every other human
I clearly remember the first time I walked into a classroom as a trainee teacher. It was an adult Functional Skills English workshop, and all the students were quietly getting on with a variety of tasks in groups. It wasn't at all what I'd expected, and when the teacher I'd come to shadow said to me, "just go round the groups and see if anyone needs any help", I was suddenly terrified.
Just... walk up to complete strangers who didn't know me from Adam - many of whom were older than me, and of a variety of different ethnicities - introduce myself and offer them help? I'd prepared myself for standing at the front of a class and delivering a lesson to a group of teenagers. I had lots of experience in performance and presentation and making myself heard or noticed... but a quiet, casual chat with a gentle offer of assistance to grown-ups... that was well outside my comfort zone.
Those of you who have been following this series from the start will know that we've identified the main culprit of our stress, anxiety and other mental health concerns... the amygdala or monkey brain. To recap...
Whenever the amygdala senses any kind of threat – from a bus about to run us over in the street to somebody gossiping about us behind our back in the office – it sets off our spider-sense, various hormonal and neurological warning signals that in turn cause us to feel the symptoms of stress. These will vary depending on the individual and the situation, but they include all the old favourites – physical stuff such as increased heart rate, changes to breathing, hot or cold sweat, and mental reactions such as fear, anger and shame. Stress hormones basically prepare us to fight the threat or flee from the danger: fight or flight. But they often override our normal, logical human brain, and let our monkey brain take over.
The problem comes in the modern world, where the monkey brain finds it increasingly difficult to work out what's an actual threat to life... and what's merely a difficult problem to be overcome. So it looks to us for understanding... and we don't help ourselves by playing it safe.
In theory, any new experience contains danger. Meeting new people, starting a new job, going out on a first date, trying a new hobby or club... life would be so much easier if we just stuck with the stuff we know and are comfortable with. Anything new - well, we don't know how to deal with it or what problems we might encounter along the way. And that's scary.
Writing this particular blog series is a bit like that. Every time I sit down to do it, I'm forcing myself out of my comfort zone. I'm not really an expert on this subject, I'm just fumbling my way through. It would be so much easier when I open up my computer to just cobble together another edition of Saturday Snapshots or Namesakes. I know how to do those now. They might take time and research and a bit of head-scratching, but they're familiar and comforting and safe.
Or, I might put off writing the blog altogether and go watch some TV. Read a book (if only!). Watch some more music videos on youtube from bands I've never heard of.
New experience? !!Amygdala sends out warning signals!!
Result: I feel anxious.
Strategy? Play it safe.
Safety strategies are the things we all do to minimise risk or avoid tackling anything new. They include distracting ourselves with other (safe) activities or avoiding any situations that make us feel remotely uncomfortable.
However... whenever we do this, we tell the monkey that it was right - its perception of threat was bang on the money. As a result, it'll double its efforts to warn us about getting into that situation again.
If I stop writing this blog series because it's difficult and it makes me a little anxious, then next time I try, it'll be even harder.
If I avoid going out to a gig because there will be a lot of strange people there, and it'll be a late night, and I might not get home till after midnight... if I decide to stay at home instead and watch TV... then chances are, next time the opportunity arises, I probably won't even bother to buy tickets.
These are pretty mild examples, but I'm sure you can extrapolate them to cover more serious anxiety-causing situations in your own life. Playing it safe, avoiding problems or distracting ourselves from things that are worrying just confirms to our monkey brain that these things are threats to be avoided. It'll scream even louder next time.
Taken to an absolute extreme, this is where OCD comes from: you can't leave the house until you've completed these safety rituals. It's where alcohol and drug dependency starts: you feel less anxious when you have a drink. The monkey brain experts believe that even positive behaviour like exercise, meditation and structured relaxation techniques can be used as an escape strategy to help us avoid facing up to the things we fear... because when we do these things, we only confirm that the monkey was right to be afraid.
Back in the 90s, a former colleague of mine used to swear by a self-help book with that exact title... and I used to mock it as namby-pamby mumbo-jumbo. Yet from a brain science point of view, it seems like this is the best advice you can get. If we refuse to let our anxiety get the better of us - if we embrace the situation the monkey is screaming at us to avoid - and we do this repeatedly... then, we break down the cycle of anxiety and we teach the monkey that it's something we don't have to be afraid of.
Those early teaching experiences were really quite terrifying. I'd already pushed myself way out of my comfort zone by going back to university in my late 30s and retraining at something so different from anything I'd ever done before. I'd prepared myself for all kinds of problems and scenarios and figured out ways I might deal with them... but a workshop of adult learners, something that should have been far less scary than standing in front of a class of 17 year olds... that was almost my downfall. I came out of that first shadowing session and seriously asked myself if I'd made the right decision. Maybe teaching wasn't the right choice for me. Except it was too late to drop out now... and what else could I do?
The following week, I went back to the same class and was put in the same situation again. And it wasn't immediately easier. It took me a good few weeks before I worked out how to handle myself there, but eventually I did... and my anxiety subsided. Because I'd taught my monkey brain that it was OK. It wasn't something to be afraid of.
In her book, Don't Feed The Monkey Mind, Dr. Jennifer Shannon explains...
The monkey mind is like a small child or a pet watching you for guidance. I emphasize the word "watch". You cannot tell this part of your brain anything. The monkey can't be reasoned with, comforted, or distracted from its mission. The only way we can get what we want in live is to override its warnings with our behaviour.
Stop playing it safe, in other words. Playing it safe only reinforces our fears.
Earlier this week I was leafing through Sam's notebook (largely full of made up football scores) when I saw he'd scribbled a name on the inside front cover...
Not because he's been watching Blue Velvet, Easy Rider or the Sicilian scene from True Romance recently. No, because he's become quite a fan of a song I've featured here previously, Dennis Hopper by The Waterboys.
I continue in my mission to teach Sam as many out-of-date pop culture references as I possibly can.
All of which has nothing to do with this week's Snapshots, which featured ten songs written by Burt Bacharach and Hal David. No, I couldn't find a photo of either of those gentlemen holding a camera...
10. Jerry's neighbour, associated with Walrus home.
On Seinfeld, Jerry's neighbour was Kramer...
John Lennon lived in (and was sadly killed outside) The Dakota Building.
I was out walking with Sam the other day when I came across the "Happy Bench". Something about it really wound me up. Apologies, my reaction below gets a little extreme - but it was for humorous effect. I'm not really the sort of person who would ever consider micturating on public property. Still... I often present the best side of my nature on this blog. Whereas Ben gets the darker side.
(That said, when I posted a picture of the Happy Bench on my facebook feed, I was amazed by how many of my FB friends reacted in a far grumpier way that I did. It's good to know you're not the biggest misanthrope in the room. And that I chose my friends wisely.)
Rol: Well, I won't be sitting here then...
Ben: Or you could rip it off and set it alight at your feet?
Send a strong message.
I pissed on it. Will that do?
Only if you then sit in it. Commit to it.
If I did that, some happy person might come talk to me.
You could start growling? And yipping, like a small dog.
The yip is even more unexpected than a bark.
Flashback to my 20s.
Did you used to be a furry? Get up to a little bit of yipping?
The great dichotomy of my life is how much of it I've spent fighting chronic loneliness... and yet I hate people.
I'm not surprised if you go around pissing on park benches.
I Am Jack's Inflamed Sense of Rejection.
You might want to call a doctor and get that seen to.
What's the best Paul Simon song that's not on Graceland?
That is the mixtape of someone who has never made a mixtape in her life.
Or bought a record.
T'Pau!
I had a crush on Carol Decker, but still.
Even the "deep cut" by Dead Prez is still their most radio friendly one.
Are you sure the playlist isn't titled "Songs that I like when they come on the radio"?
Exactly. Never bought a record in her life.
Also. I thought it was an unwritten rule you didn't put the Beatles on mixtapes.
Or The Carpenters.
There seems little point in putting together a mixtape of songs everybody knows off by heart, to the point of being sick of them.
I mean, Respect is a classic, but I've heard it too much now.
Exactly.
Deep cuts only.
But there's no Beatles or Carpenters deep cuts.
Same with Nirvana.
Etc.
I'd put Carpenters on as a palette cleanser after something really out there. And maybe some really early, raw Beatles. I'd never say no to anything. But that playlist is just like they asked the Family Fortunes audience to name ten pop songs from the last 60 years.
Maybe it's a cover up. Maybe she has a huge Gary Glitter and R Kelly collection and doesn't want Hastings to find out.
Some time ago (back in March 2018) I started a new series on the blog called Anyone Can't Play Guitar, which was supposed to be an ongoing tribute to my favourite guitar solos. There was only ever one post. I may argue because it couldn't be beaten... although I did intend to follow it with a post about Richard Thompson, the best guitarist I ever saw play live.
The baton may be very dusty, but Rigid Digit just picked it up and ran with it...
RIGID DIGIT’S TOP 10 GUITAR SOLOS THAT DON’T SEEM TO MAKE
THE USUAL BEST OF ALL-TIME LISTS:
Not those 9,473 notes a minute shredding solos so beloved of
poodle-haired rockers who believe Eddie Van Halen is God.
These are (in my mind) perfectly captured moments of musical
brilliance using 6 steel strings and a plank of wood.
And these – brilliant though they are – rarely get the
plaudits they deserve.
This song, like many other Walker Brothers tracks is
dominated by Scott Walker’s moody baritone.
The arrangement and that vocal would usually be enough, but then the solo
arrives and takes the track to another level.
The internet, not always the most reliable of places, cites many options for
the provider of this solo, including Big Jim Sullivan, Jeff Skunk Baxter (later
of Steely Dan), and John Walker- who
was actually a Walker Brother, but what are the chance of a member of a 60s
band actually playing on their own song?
Popular opinion suggests the widdling was by Alan Parker -late of Blue Mink,
and whose guitar work was heard once a week for nigh on 10 years as a member of
CCS who did the “Whole Lotta Love” version that introduced Top Of The Pops
Mick Taylor joined The Stones in 1969 replacing Brian Jones,
and within a month had provided overdubs and guitars for ‘Let It Bleed’ and was
sitting at Number One with “Honky Tonk Women”.
Taylor’s musical chops were never in doubt – he was a member of the Blues
Guitarists' finishing school (John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers) at 16, and is a key
player on the Stones ‘Sticky Fingers’ album.
“Sway” from that album ranks as a high point, but the solo on the album version
of “Dead Flowers”, great though it is, falls just short.Not when played Live however (as seen here) –
Mick Taylor is effectively soloing all the way through the song.It’s cool, laid-back, laconic even, but fills
every gap required to be filled.
With Brian Jones, they were the second greatest pop singles band in the
UK.With Mick Taylor, they were
(probably) the greatest Live Rock n Roll Band standing on a stage.
Hereford may not be the Rock n Roll Capital of the World,
but it did provide half of Mott The Hoople, and three quarters of The
Pretenders.And it was one of those
Pretenders with a blond mane and a Mott The Hoople and Cream fixation that came
up with (on the spot in the studio) this sublime solo which elevates the song
to one of the finest in The Pretenders catalogue.
James Honeyman-Scott died in mid 1982 leaving a legacy of two very good albums
with The Pretenders, containing his intricate guitar work.We will never know if “Kid” was a one-off, or
would there have been more to come?
How many notes does a guitar solo actually need?More than two is surely just an extravagance.
Pete Shelly obviously thought so, providing a bare-bones “cheeky two note
solo”.Any more than that would surely
just inspire boredom in the listener.
Lifted from their first EP, which is held as the first independent single, and
the last Buzzcocks outing before Howard Devoto parted for the more progressive
sounding Magazine (almost denouncing Punk, and inventing Post Punk before Punk
had even got going).Post-Devoto,
Buzzcocks went on to release a string of the finest singles of 1978/79.
Although this may be unfair to Dan members in the early
days, the band was basically Donald Fagen and Walter Becker, plus a supporting
cast.The parent album (‘Can’t Buy A
Thrill’) did feature guitarists Jeff "Skunk" Baxter and Denny Dias as
full time members, but the guitar work on this was supplied by session
guitarist Elliot Randall – a man who has been offered many full time band
positions (The Blues Brothers and Toto to name two) but turned them down to
remain a gun for hire.And with this on
your CV, the work may not be thin on the ground.
(I refer the honourable gentleman back to a previous post on this very blog. - Rol.)
When this track is played on the radio, it always seems to
cut before the solo starts – a real shame that.The solo is an integral part of the song and provides the perfect coda.
Not, as often believed, played by Dave Gilmour (although Gilmour was a key
figure in Kate Bush’s signing to EMI), but supplied by a session guitarist (and
Kate’s now full time band member) who’d previously appeared on Bay City Rollers
records, and would later play with Bucks Fizz.
A sublime solo providing counterpoint to Peter Perret’s
weathered and withered vocals.
John Perry delivers another solo almost the equal on “The Beast” (from the same
debut album), but in the context of this song it lifts it to another level.
They may only be truly known for this one song, but it’s not a bad legacy, is it?
Who said Punk and New Wave should have no guitar solos or standout
musicianship?
Guitar solos usually pop up about 2/3 through the song –
either just after the middle eight, or just after the second chorus.
Not this one – Glen just can’t wait to get it out – one verse and chorus, and
let it out.Oddly placed perhaps (55
seconds in), but lets the song grow and tell the story whilst you’re still
marvelling at the musical dexterity.No
screaming notes, fretboard divebombs, just pure understated brilliance.
See also “Some Fantastic Place” for another example of Tilbrook’s fretboard
dexterity
Think of “Baker Street” and the stand-out memory has to be
the saxophone (not played by Bob Holness, but a great urban myth
nonetheless).But vying for attention is
the minimal, almost-skeletal, understated, yet oh so powerful guitar solo.It’s played so cleanly it could almost be a
squealing Hank Marvin meets Mark Knopfler affair.It is also (apparently) a big influence on
Slash and the basis of the solo in ”Sweet Child O’ Mine”, and once you know
that you can, sort of, hear it.
1. Goodbye To Love – Carpenters (Tony Peluso)
I’m not a fan of the MOR stylings of this lot, and I’m not
going to call this a Guilty Pleasure, but that fuzzed-up Guitar solo is a mighty
fine thing.
He plays it straight first time round (still fuzzed, but basically the melody
line), and then later gives it a bit of welly.
Tony Peluso may not have done anything as notable before or since, but surely
he could dine out on this one solo forever.
And (snobbily?) if it wasn’t for the fact it was for The
Carpenters, this solo would sit alongside the work of Jimmy Page, Eric Clapton,
and (the sainted?) Eddie Van Halen in the list of All-Time Great Widdly Bits.
I've got to hand it to you, RD, that was one fine collection of tunes. Particularly that live version of Dead Flowers. Excellent stuff. I wonder if anyone can beat that...?
Sing something simple. Here's ten songs where singers tell us to sing. Lazy buggers: they want us to do our job for them. Or... maybe they just want to remind us how good it feels to sing sometimes.
If you can't handle that, you may prefer the Glen Campbell version. If I were Fran Healy, I'd consider my job done once Glen Campbell had recorded one of my songs.
The other day, Martin (not Rossiter) was lamenting the fact that this Martin has only ever recorded one solo album. I couldn't agree more. This was a cracker. We demand more!
Don't Ask Me Why Saturday Snapshots has become the most clicked-on post on this blog. Probably because there's much less of me wittering on than on all the other posts and far more top tunes.
This week there was a photo-finish between Lynchie & Rigid Digit, both on 3 points, both typing the words "Joe Walsh" at 8:58 on the dot, but RD took the crown by a nose. Nailbiting stuff, though Charity Chic had to drop by and identify the song in question later.
Anyway, here are this week's answers... Would I Lie To You?