Nearly finished going through the tracks on Sam's favourite in-car CD... and as my new car doesn't have a CD player, I'm wondering if we'll ever listen to this again...
Track 17: George Michael - Outside
I'd lost touch with George Michael by the mid-90s, swept away from pop music in the surge of Britpop. So I only really revisited his late-90s output once I'd grown up and realised pop music wasn't so bad after all.
Outside was famous as the record in which George took a scandal from his private life, grabbed it with both hands, and made a top pop tune (and video) which resolutely stuck two fingers up at the tabloid press that was hounding him.
It's wonderful.
Track 18: Idlewild - You Held The World In Your Arms
Was this a football anthem? It sounds like one... only better than most of them. Their only top ten hit, although I'd been following Idlewild since the early days. It's not my favourite, but I loved the big wide-screen stab at glory that this album represented, just as much as I'd loved the more esoteric art-rock of When I Argue I See Shapes three years earlier.
I think Sam likes this one because it definitely sounds like a football anthem...
Track 19: White Plains - My Baby Loves Lovin'
Just to prove that you can't beat a cheesy late-60s pop hit... here's one that never grows old.
If you'd asked me yesterday, I'd have guessed that White Plains were from the USA - not that they were an off-shoot of the Flowerpot Men. Then again, where did the Flowerpot Men want to go? They were obviously Americaphiles. A Greenaway & Cooke production, so it was always going to sound a cut above... although there is some debate about who's actually singing. Some liner notes, quoted on iffypedia, reveal...
"Contrary to popular myth, we are assured that the lead vocals were performed by Ricky Wolff, with Tony Burrows doubling him on the chorus". But "due to Wolff's unavailability to promote the record, it would be singer-songwriter Roger Greenaway who appeared as the main lead singer on the promotional material and TV performances."
Bands were weird in the 60s. I love this video though...
The recent peloton of bike posts over at Charity Chic blog forced me to dig out one of my few favourite Pink Floyd songs, although I think it's fair to say that it's more of a Syd Barrett solo...
I have to confess I'm not the biggest expert on Syd - I'm sure some of you know far more about him than I do - but I often think it's a shame he was (to quote iffypedia) "ousted" from the Floyd, as to me they became a far less interesting combo without him.
And
it feels like 1974 Syd
Barrett's last session, he can't sing anymore He's
gonna have to be Roger now for the rest of his life
...but he's remembered fondly by many and proved to be a huge influence of many of the next generation of stars, including Bowie, Bolan, Weller, Cope... and Freezer.
He's also to be found in illustrious company here, as Scroobius Pip lays down his Ten Commandments...
Thou
shalt not worship pop idols or follow lost prophets Thou
shalt not take the names of Johnny Cash, Joe Strummer, Johnny Hartman, Desmond
Dekker, Jim Morrison, Jimi Hendrix or Syd Barrett in vain
Leslie Feist obviously has a little Syd obsession going on too, as she reveals here in this excerpt from her notebooks...
Why
did I write down everything that entered my mind? Check
out these lines, like - "I'm
Syd Barrett and I'll swim to England in his clothes, in 20 holes" How
could I say at what point I would gain perspective, let alone know I had it?
Texan indie dude Matthew Logan Vasquez is a new name to me. He's apparently in three bands: Delta Spirit, Middle Brother and Glorietta. And on his day off, he does stuff like this...
My
little sister got my record collection They
tried to tell her it's a bad direction But
somehow I'm alive today With
Syd Barrett fuckin' up my brain
Back in 2011, John Wesley Harding stopped releasing material under the name he'd stolen from Bob Dylan (who in turn stole it, with a misspelling, from Wild West outlaw John Wesley Hardin). Instead, he went back to using his real name, Wesley Stace. Here he is, in nostalgic mood...
In
Hastings, when I was younger Thе
sea could take you under I
never much swam in there But
I skimmed some stones and I breathed the air The
Who, The Rolling Stones, Pink Floyd Syd
Barrett's final show Didn't
take that long to get To
want to know the ghosts Of
Hastings Pier
As is so often the case with this feature, one tune immediately sprang to mind when it came to Syd Barrett: Roddy Woomble's biggest hit. I loved this song from the first moment I heard it, though I've never had a clue what it was all about. Apparently the title comes from some nonsense Roddy shouted at his girlfriend during an impassioned argument, and the whole thing was Idlewild's attempt to write a Pavement song. So the fact that it doesn't make any sense actually makes perfect sense.
You smoke too much when You talk too much, and When I argue, Syd Barrett makes me laugh I laugh at your conversational skills Or lack of
King Cnut could not hold back the tide, and I cannot hold back society's full-throttle descent into dystopia. All I can do is watch helplessly from the sidelines, and nod my head sagely when others hold a mirror up to the madness.
Thinkin' all about those censored sequences
Worryin' about the consequences
Waiting until I come to my senses
Better put it all in present tenses
Little triggers that you pull with your tongue
Little triggers, I don't want to be hung up, strung up
Louise was very excited to hear that they had remastered / re-issued the original Tomb Raider games and that she would be able to play them on Sam's Nintendo. But not before she first had to contend with the Trigger Warning...
You'll find various people online debating / objecting to / agreeing with / traumatised by the insertion of this trigger warning into Lara Croft's original adventures. As someone who's not part of any of the minorities besmirched by their representation in said game, it's probably not my place to comment... so let's look to English Literature instead for our trigger warnings...
This production includes depictions of self-harm, graphic violence and references to suicide.
That's from a theatre production of King Lear, in case you were wondering.
Meanwhile, The Globe Theatre recently warned its audiences about a new production of Romeo & Juliet...
This production contains depictions of suicide, moments of violence, and references to drug use. It contains gunshot sound effects and the use of stage blood.
If you have been affected by any of the issues raised in this production of Romeo and Juliet please find details below of organisations offering advice and support.
A bunch of Tory politicians were soon up in arms about that, while world famous thespian Christopher Biggins chipped in, "It’s wokeness gone mad!"
Ralph Fiennes, Ian McKellen and Matt Smith have also taken umbrage at the trigger warnings many theatres have begun to inflict upon their audiences, though Ralph's response was a little more considered than Biggins...
"I think the impact of theatre should be that you’re shocked and you should be disturbed. I don’t think you should be prepared for these things and when I was young, (we) never had trigger warnings for shows.”
I find myself torn on this matter... and not just because if I do voice outrage at trigger warnings, I'll be joining the protest line alongside Tory MPs, Christopher Biggins and The Daily Mail. Just the very fact that those guys are in opposition makes me want to clutch trigger warnings to my bosom and welcome them with an open heart.
I teach English to young people who are suffering severe mental health problems... and yet they have to study the same texts as every other GCSE student in the country, including Macbeth (full of violence, murder, suicide and a gradual descent into madness for more than one character) and An Inspector Calls (a murder mystery which hinges around a character being driven to commit suicide by drinking bleach after she's been raped - arguably by more than one man - and castigated by society). Many of these issues are central to the experiences of some of the young people I teach... and yet, they do appear to be able to draw a line between the fiction they're studying and the reality they may have endured. Perhaps that's not always the case, and we treat every student on an individual basis depending on whether the medical professionals think they're ready to tackle such issues... but from everything I've been reading about mental health, hiding away from unpleasant issues only makes them worse. I'm not a psychiatrist and it's not my job to offer counselling... just to teach the texts. Still, it does make me wonder if trigger warnings might be doing more harm than good, shielding people from things they'd be better off confronting... if they ever want to come to terms with them.
Of course, there's a difference between trigger warnings for disturbing subject matter and trigger warnings for outdated attitudes. I don't have a problem reading Huckleberry Finn or To Kill A Mockingbird with a class, both of which contain frequent use of racial epithets that were common parlance at the time they were written. It's a good way of opening up a debate about language, racism and historic prejudice. It's even more important to teach these texts nowadays, and have those discussions, than ever before. If the publishers want to add a warning that the texts contain outdated attitudes "rooted in racial and ethnic prejudices", that's fine with me. Far better that than banning or editing said texts and pretending prejudice just didn't exist. Doesn't exist.
Having thought about it then, I completely agree with that trigger warning on Tomb Raider, as ridiculous and trivial as it might seem at first glance. Because when it comes to any kind of outdated attitude, I do believe it's important to "acknowledge its harmful impact and learn from it". And really, does that one screen affect your enjoyment of the game in any way? If it does, that probably says more about your own deep-rooted prejudices than it does about Tomb Raider.
To close on a lighter note, I did have to laugh when watching Die Hard again this Christmas past, noting that despite the gratuitous violence and liberal use of foul language (though interestingly, for an 80s film, no really outdated attitudes), the biggest warning to pop up on screen before hand was that by watching this film, we'd be subjected to the image of Bruce Willis smoking a cigarette! Different times indeed...
Warning: this blog contains many, many outdated attitudes. Usually involving popular music of the 80s that the cool kids have long since decided is rubbish... but I still love it anyway. That's my trigger warning, in case its needed.
History is made, not repeated And you hide behind words that make you feel needed And what you read in those books made you so conceited So in order for love to be true My dreams will have to Become my only rules
I want a warning I want a warning I want something more than a warning
Wake me up on into a world outdated And the older you get the more you seem jaded As you search for the quotes to make it seem complicated So in order for love to be true Even my nightmares Become my only rules
I want a warning I want a warning I want something more than a warning
Let's start with the obvious one. If you can't blame it on the sunshine or the moonlight... maybe you should blame it on Jarvis Cocker for waggling his bottom in Earth Song. If he hadn't done that, perhaps Michael The Messiah might have saved us all...
Come on, Kurt... surely the blondes have more to be blamed for?
Research and radios Divide my world at best Peanut butter relationships No kids no food no pets Adequate understanding Ample cigarettes Blame it on the brunette
Kind of like blaming Postman Pat. Which, come to mention it, is not a bad idea since it does generally appear to be his fault. He's lucky that he lives in a village full of idiots who never fail to say, "don't worry, Pat won't let us down," no matter how many times he does just that.
I know, I know. It ain't cool, but I still love it.
I mean, come on...
It feels so good that it ought to be illegal I got my vaccination from a pornograph needle I'll never grow up and I'll never grow old Blame it on the love of rock & roll!
Love Cosmo Jarvis. Very disappointed that he appears to have packed in the music biz in favour of acting. I'm sure he's very good in Lady Macbeth, but I'd rather hear a new record from him. I do blame him for that.
Written just after Altamont, when the whole of America seemed intent on blaming it on The Stones...
Mister Marvin Middle Class is really in a stew Wond'rin' what the younger generation's coming to And the taste of his martini doesn't please his bitter tongue Blame it on the Rolling Stones.
Mother tells the ladies at the bridge club every day Of the rising price of tranquilizers she must pay And she wonders why the children never seem to stay at home Blame it on the Rolling Stones.
Once upon a time, I had a little money Government burglars took it long Before I could mail it to you, Still, you are the only one Now I can't let it slip away So if the man with the ticker tape, he tries to take it Well, this is what I'm gonna say...
1. Carter USM - I Blame The Government
I blame the government For making me this way Bitter and twisted and crap Bored psychopathic At the end of the day I blame the government for that Poor education, death on the roads The writing thats not on the wall The war in The Balkans The war in The Falklands Its not like The Waltons at all
Well, quite.
If I had the wings of a sparrow If I had the arse of a crow I'd fly over Whitehall tomorrow And... ...on the bastards below
Every Halloween, I like to post a horror-themed Top Ten. In recent years, I've done My Top Ten Frankenstein Songs, My Top Ten Vampire Songs, My Top Ten Haunted Songs and My Top Ten Zombie Songs (although for some reason, I didn't post that one at Halloween). I was going to do werewolves this year, but it turns out there's something much scarier out there at the moment... and I don't mean Donald Trump. Louise has even made us buy new curtains in case we glance out and see one of these stood in our garden. And so, as a special Halloween treat, I bring you My Top Ten Clown Songs. Let's be careful out there...
Special mention to the scariest clown you'll ever hear: Harpo's Rock 'n' Roll Clown. Now I wouldn't want to meet him on a dark night.
Second special mention to the weirdest threesome in rock history... Joni Mitchell, Tom Petty and... Billy Idol: Dancin' Clown.
Final special mention to Insane Clown Posse. They're supposed to be scary, but I think they're hilarious.
Other fine clowns who were in the running include Elvis Costello (three times, actually), Neil Diamond, Admiral Fallow, Toby Keith, The Cocteau Twins, Jimmy Webb, Brett Anderson, Grand National, Status Quo and Manfred Mann... obviously. Yes, I could have done a Top 20, but I don't do those anymore.
Let's set the pace, shall we? In case you think this Top Ten's gonna be full of big shoes, cars with their wheels falling off and custard pies in the face. Here's Paul Westerberg's switchblade-carrying clown, angry that rumours keep spreading all over town...
This is the world we live in now, Turin Brakes. I picked up two of your albums (and one by Counting Crows), at 'three for a quid' in the local charity shop the other week. That said, I liked them enough that I might pay full price for the next one.
Last clown, drinking in a bar that's about to be closed down A hero, I was in people's plans I was shaking their hands I got lost in the world, slow motion walking and diatribe talking As bad as things be, I'm a natural survivor
By the time you reach the end of this list, you'll realise there's not one happy clown in sight. No wonder they all end up turning bad...
He used to honk his horn and everyone would laugh He used to honk his horn She doesn't think he's very funny anymore Footprints in the sawdust leading to the edge of town Something bad happened to a clown
Great track from last year's "comeback" album, Everything Ever Written.
The typical code of conduct At the international clown hall of fame Not to smile until you've painted on your smile You go looking for laughter Yeah, you could be another poet like
John Crowe Ransom, Whitman or Hart Crane All those words you leave behind Will fit together in time Like a clown You'll do anything for fame Tell me did you ever meet another clown Who said I'll be around for you now?
Dave Davies' only real solo hit (though I have featured one of his other, less successful, solo singles here before) is a resigned shrug towards the circus-like life of a touring rock star, co-written with Ray.
One of my favourites from Ron, although the live acoustic Ron-cam recreation above isn't as good as the album version. Great lyrics though...
Everything is alright for against the backdrop of ordinary life
It's the easy laugh that gets you through
Your working day and the hogwash
Sad but true, he's a clown in broad daylight
One of the saddest songs ever written. Hence it's been recorded by everybody from Frank Sinatra to Grace Jones, Lou Rawls to Madonna. I'm particularly fond of Mark Kozelek's latest version (not the one on youtube), but Judy's is the definitive recording. The song was written by Stephen Sondheim for the musical A Little Night Music, and he claims it's not literally about circus clowns: just fools like us.
1. Smokey Robinson & The Miracles - Tears of a Clown
And this is why Smokey Robinson is a god. Just listen to these lyrics: in a chirpy pop song, for Smokey's sake!
Just like Pagliacci did I try to keep my surface hid Smiling in the crowd I try But in a lonely room I cry The tears of a clown
The music was written by Stevie Wonder who couldn't come up with a decent lyric so took it to the Motown Christmas party and played it to Smokey in the hope he'd come up with something. He did.
Tears of a Clown is also one of the only pop songs to feature a bassoon. More on that here.
There are those who will tell you that The Beat's version is better, but they are men of a certain age (i.e. about 5-10 years older than me) and though it's a fine opinion I respect greatly... I must disagree.
The two essential subjects for all students at the college where I work are English and Maths. As an English teacher, I'm supposed to embed a little mathematics into all my lessons, so I thought I'd try embedding some into this blog. I'll work my way through the various branches of arithmetic (addition, subtraction, multiplication and division) over the next few weeks (though perhaps not all at once), but I thought I'd start with basic maths... or math, depending on which side of the Atlantic you do your sums on.
Special mentions to Maths & Physics Club, Mutemath, and all those weird Math Rock bands I find so very hard to get into.
Starts out sounding like Belle & Sebastian, then goes cheerfully mental, like all the best Los Campesinos! records. When Americans miss the s off the end of Maths, Aleksandra, Oliver, Tom, Harriet, Gareth, Neil and Ellen Campesinos! start overusing exclamation marks.
Carmine Infantino was a legendary comic book artist, most famous for an extended run on DC's The Flash back in the 70s and 80s. His nephew, Jim Infantino is the man behind the hugely entertaining alt-rock band Jim's Big Ego, perhaps most famous for their song The Ballad of Barry Allen, about Uncle Carmine's most famous superhero. This is another great song from them, reminiscent of the Fountains of Wayne with added REM guitar.
When he was young he never thought that he would be a Math Prof Rock Star
And after hours outside of his office, there's a line waiting Full of girls lining up to ask about their quadratic equations She leans over the desk and twirls a pencil in her hair Complains that the grade he gave her was way unfair And all the professors they laugh about it and wish him well But the guys in the class are just jealous as hell
Find out more about "the Greatest Band In The History of Recorded Music" here.
Title track from the excellent 2016 debut record by this refreshing Californian singer-songwriter which I took a punt on via eMusic after hearing Cerys play it on 6Music. So far, the gamble is paying off... though the rest of the album isn't as radio-friendly as this one...
Counting all the days 'til you're back Shivering in an ice cold bath Of emotions and math I've gotta get outta this tree Off of this limb I'm a woman acting like a kid A skinny mess That's breathless from telling you All the things that I'm gonna do
Phew. I reckon I need an ice cold bath after that one...
Always good to hear some classic Idlewild again, and here they are at their best...it's time for the maths test!
1. Cherry Ghost - Mathematics
I saw Cherry Ghost play live around the time this track was big. This was by far their best track, reminding me of the New York romanticism of Dion... which was odd, because Simon Aldred's a gruff Manc. He's made some great music since, but Mathematics is still his finest moment.
It's the time of year when everybody has to compile lists... for once, it's not just me.
2015 has been a fine year in music... if you know where to look. I've no idea what's happening in the mainstream anymore, and I've no idea what the musos will pick for their end of year lists. But it was easy enough to work out My Top Ten Albums of 2015.
Before I get onto those, here are a few also rans. Many fine records, worthy of note, if you're into this kind of thing...
Paul Heaton's long-awaited reunion with his former Beautiful South chanteuse easily made my Top Ten last year, so I'm not really sure why its follow-up barely scraped into this year's Twenty. I've been a Heato fan since the Housemartins, and while he rarely puts a foot wrong, this one didn't quite do it for me. He's long made a career contrasting catchy, upbeat, Radio 2 friendly melodies with arch, cynically caustic lyrics... that's exactly why I love him. However, Wisdom, Laughter & Lines occasionally felt like a step too far: the tunes just a little too perky, the lyrics just a little too wilfully obnoxious. It's most noticeable on Heatongrad, which frankly sounds like Chas 'n' Dave singing NWA. Ironically, the best song on here is the mock-Morrissey tune, Horse & Groom. Well, if Moz is too busy writing crap novels and sacking his record company to put out a new record, perhaps Heato can fill his old rival's shoes...
I still need to listen to this one a bit more, but what I've heard so far has convinced me this Elastica-esque four piece have a bright future. If indie guitar bands have any future at all, that is. Reminds me very much of the music I listened to twenty years ago, without being too derivative. A lot will be written about them by the cooler sections of the music press in the year end lists, so go read those guys if you want to know more. I'm just gonna turn them up and party like it's 1993.
Now that Taylor Swift's gone all pop, Nashville needed another young female singer songwriter to carry her baton, and Kacey Musgraves seems made to order. Although this is her second mainstream album, she had self-released three before signing to a major label and at 27, she's actually 2 years older than Taylor. She's also much more of a rebel - her songs tend to be more outspoken, referencing drugs and teenage pregnancy while taking potshots at beauty pageants and the male-dominated music industry. She also sounds a lot more traditional country than many of her peers, with steel guitar, banjo and mandolin to the forefront.
Top Track: Family Is Family 17. Idlewild - Everything Ever Written
Idlewild were always one of my favourite post-Britpop guitar bands, but I'd long since given up hope of hearing anything new from Roddy Woomble and the boys.
Their first album in six years then was a welcome surprise, filled with the kind of tuneful and heartfelt Scottish indie anthems that made them 'famous' (and more of Woomble's fascinatingly evocative lyrics). The stand-out track was the album closer, Utopia, a haunting piano-based melody that promises much for the future path of this band... if they choose to follow it.
16. Public Service Broadcasting - The Race For Space
The second full PSB record is an elegy to the space race, and if anything is going to bring home to you how much of that is now ancient history - in an era where the most interstellar excitement we can get is the Mars Rover - this will do it.
As on their previous releases, PSB have raided the archives of the British Film Institute to provide the "lyrics" of their tracks. Rather than the old Public Information Films that made up much of the their last LP, they've used instead old news reports and actual recordings from the NASA control room.
The album sets its stall with JFK's inspirational speech about going into space "not because <it's> easy but because <it's> hard". After that we cross to the Soviet Union where the signal from Sputnik is used as the basis for a powerful piece of electronica, followed by a jazzy celebration of the world's first superstar cosmonaut, Yuri Gagarin.
There's a massive shift in tone on track 4, built around a news report on the death of the Apollo 1 crew and backed by static and moody Vangelis-synths. It's a moving piece, so hard to listen to the band have refused to play it live, but it seems necessary to remember the lows as well as the high of the quest for space.
It's fair to say the second half of the record isn't quite as strong - though I have to applaud PSB for not going the obvious route and using Neil Armstrong's famous moon landing speech (or maybe they just couldn't afford it). However, while the first PSB record felt like a greatest hits collection with its magpie's eye and eclectic subject matter, here I found one subject (even one as vast as space travel) struggled to fill a whole album. It's still an extremely inspiring, affecting and, ultimately, sad listening experience... one that makes you long for the new hopes JFK outlined in his speech... while wondering whether we'll ever see those days again.
My love affair with contemporary country grew deeper this year, even though none of my favourites (Brad Paisley, Blake Shelton, Lucinda Williams) released any new material. The one album I listened to more than probably any other this year was Shelton's ultra-catchy Bringing Back The Sunshine, but as that was released in 2014 it was ineligible for consideration in this list.
Anyway, I'd just about given up on anyone but Kacey Musgraves representing country here (there is, arguably, a country record in my Top Ten... but I'm the one arguing it's more a rock album) when Eric Church popped up with The Outsiders. I'd encountered Church before when he brought out his heart-punchingly catchy Springsteen tribute in 2011, but this was the first time he won me over with an entire album. He very much sees himself as the bad boy of 21st Century Nashville, and that's something he plays up more than ever before on this record, which - like Johnny and Waylon - finds the down 'n' and dirty ditch where country meets rock 'n' roll... and then kicks up a dust storm there. Especially on tracks like The Outsiders, Devil Devil and Dark Side. Most impressive of all though is his mission statement song, That's Damned Rock 'n' Roll, wherein he name-drops Hendrix, Joplin, The Clash and Nirvana...
It ain't a needle in a vein
It ain't backstage sex
It ain't lines of cocaine on a private jet
It ain't havin' a posse full of hangers-on following you around
It ain't long hair, tattoos, playin' too loud
Naw
It ain't a middle finger on a T-shirt, the establishment's tryin' to sell
It's a guy with the balls to tell the establishment to go to hell
It ain't about the money you make, when a record gets sold
It's about doin' it for nothin', 'cause it lives in your soul
That's damn rock and roll
Elsewhere, Church wants to have his cake and eat it. Roller Coaster Ride is as shamelessly poppy as anything Shelton's put out, while Talladega recalls the sweet sunset nostalgia of Springsteen (the song, if not the artist). Both are great songs, but they feel a little out of place on a record that's otherwise trying so hard to build a rebellious reputation.
There's no denying the fact that Brandon Flowers really, really, really wants to be a pop star. It's not enough being the lead singer of one of the biggest alt-pop bands of the 21st Century, he wants to be Bruce Springsteen too. Not the young and hip Born To Run Bruce or the old, respected Statesman of Rock Bruce we know today. No, Brandon wants to be Born In The USA-era Bruce. With a bit of Raspberry Beret-era Prince and True Blue-era Madonna thrown in. He wants to be a global megastar, a household name, a pop star of the kind they don't make any more... hell, the kind they haven't really made since 1985.
That's why he released his second solo album album, a record accompanied by the boast that "every song is a single". And to a large extent, he's telling the truth. Every track here is as shamelessly insincere and gloriously overblown and ridiculously catchy as the very best pop songs of my youth (though it turns out Brandon is 9 years younger than me, so why exactly he's so enamoured of my 13th year on the planet - when he would only have been 4 - I have no idea). But time has moved on, and the days of the global megastar are gone (Adele excepted), so The Desired Effect probably didn't have the desired effect for Brandon. For me, it worked just fine. Even the track where he steals the tune of Jimmy Sommerville's Smalltown Boy, almost as though he's being forced to admit his own failures. Still, while most of today's pop stars are lying in the gutters... Brandon keeps reaching for the stars.
Josh Tillman isn't the only singing drummer to make my end of year list in 2015, though he certainly is the strangest. Plus, he's written probably my favourite opening verse this year on the eponymously crafty Top Track below...
Oh, I just love the kind of woman who can walk over a man
I mean like a god damn marching band
She says, like literally, music is the air she breathes
And the malaprops make me want to fucking scream
I wonder if she even knows what that word means
Well, it's literally not that...
That's the kind of distinctively sarcastic lyric you'll find me praising very soon on this year's winning album, so I'm not sure exactly why Father John only made it to Number 13... except that I didn't fall for I Love You, Honeybear quite as much as I did for its predecessor, Fear Fun. And it didn't stay with me in the car as long as any of the records that follow. Maybe it's one to revisit in the New Year...
For the first time in forever I laid the needle down inside the groove For the first time in forever I held my breath, waiting for side two...
I'd just about given up on Mercury Rev. In fact, I didn't think I'd even bought their last album, 2008's Snowflake Midnight, although it turns out it did make its way into my collection somehow. Listening to it now, it confirms my growing problem with the band: they'd just become too twee. Too mystical and airy-fairy hippy-shit. Too bollocks.
Bands crash and people cry,
Everyone here is really shook
Trying hard, the kids can't shake it
You can't fool ol' Peter Hook
They really want to but they just can't fake it,
Trying hard to look old and worn
Facebook butterflies flap their wings and
Suddenly a Brooklyn band is born
So I wasn't holding out much hope for The Light In You, and with a track-list including Queen of Swans, Amelie, Sunflower and Moth Light, it seemed my prejudices were about to be confirmed. What a relief then to find them returning to form with the kind of upbeat, singalong, life-affirming alt-pop songs that made Deserter's Songs and All Is Dream such wonderful records.
A new Indelicates album is always a source of great excitement in this house. This is the band who, with their debut single, created - if not my favourite song of the 21st Century, then certainly the one against which I measure all others. "I love it... but do I love it as much as We Hate The Kids?" The answer is invariably no.
Five albums in and things have changed a lot for Simon and Julia Indelicate. They're no longer the darlings of the blogosphere, as they were back in 2006/7. Those kids they hate won't ever hear their music nowadays... and neither will many other people, save the devoted few. They're not cool anymore (where they ever?) and despite running their own record label, and recently becoming parents, you get the feeling time has passed The Indelicates by. Which is one of the greatest tragedies in "popular" music, if you ask me. But you didn't, did you?
All that said, there's really nothing to stop them making their latest album another (totally unhip) concept album, based around a mind-stretching sci-fi story about "the singularity, virtual realities and the generation stuck between space ages". If nobody's listening, you can be true to yourself and do whatever you like: and thus is true art born.
Anyway, I've listened to this record quite a bit and while I don't quite agree with the band's pronouncement that it's their best yet (if I did, it'd be Number 1, not Number 11), it's certainly their most varied and experimental (the video below is "an immersive 360 degree spherical video" - which is kind of like watching a pop video on google earth... and just as annoying). While their last concept album, 2011's excellent David Koresh Superstar, shared Trey Parker and Matt Stone's unabashed loved of huge American musicals (along with a splash of the South Park boys' irreverent humour), this one goes for broke with earthy folk songs, lush piano instrumentals and (as on previous records) huge rock numbers that sit firmly in the Venn diagram intersection between Bertolt Brecht, Carter USM and Jim Steinman. Beyond the moments which echo Public Service Broadcasting's lamentation for the death of the space race, I've no idea what any of this is truly about, but it is the most honest and individual record you'll hear all year, completely unconcerned with the vagaries of fashion. A lot is written these days about the death of indie, but that's just hogwash. The true spirit of indie will live on as long as the Indelicates are making their own music their own way.
So, those were the records that would have been my favourites this year... if not for ten other, slightly better releases. I'll begin revealing what they were in just a couple of days...
I thought I'd try something different on this blog, since nobody reads it anyway. The thematic Top Tens will continue, but every month I'm going to try to give you (my nonexistent reader) an earshot of just what I'm listening to right now. Some of these will be new songs, some will be old, some will be VERY old. You might not care, but it's enshrined in the blogger's code of practice that we do whatever the hell we want if we want to stay interested...
So here, for your delight and disgust, are my Top Ten Songs right now. I'm not saying any of them are better than my all time favourites...there's nothing here that competes with Wichita Lineman or Levi Stubbs' Tears...but they're all pretty cool in their own way, if you have time to give them listen.
Heard Cerys Matthews play this on 6 Music and had to track it down. The story of a young boy whose mother takes him on one final shopping trip, it stuck in my imagination and just wouldn't shift. It's the opening track to the American songwriter's eleventh album (according to iffypedia... though some of them seem pretty hard to track down and aren't available at all on Amazon). He describes himself as a "musical storyteller and guitarist" and after hearing this track, I'd hoped the rest of the album would be similarly spoken word short story territory. Unfortunately it's a little more traditional folky singing that fills out the record, but Brousseau still has a gift for tender, heart-bruised lyrics that paint evocative pictures in your mind.
Another new discovery who, it turns out, have been around for ages: this is from their fourth album released in 2013 (and apparently they have a new one out this summer which is rumoured to be their best yet). Described as "British Americana" (whatever that means), if this track's anything to go by, they tell heartfelt stories of hope and optimism with guitars. You know, like pop songs used to (says the old bling-less bastard in the corner who's just turned off the radio because another scary chick is singing about the size of her ass...ets). I will be investigating them further.
Having condemned the contemporary music scene with that previous comment, you may be surprised to find this in here, but I always liked a bit of spunky girl pop. 2015's answer to The Go Gos, Joan Jett, Shampoo and Daphne & Celeste... this is what I'd be listening to all day if I was still 15.
Well, they certainly don't make 'em like this anymore. Except... it turns out they do. When I first heard this, I thought it must be an oldie: it reminded me of the Boomtown Rats doing their very best Springsteen impression or Thin Lizzy circa 1981. I was closer with the second guess: BSR are the remains of Lizzy who had been touring for many years in tribute to the late, great Phil Lynott but finally decided to create something new, with a new name to boot. I think Phil would be proud...
(I thought they'd long since stopped making album covers as outrageously rock 'n' roll the one above too.)
Another old favourite back from the dead, this is the closing track from Idlewild's first album in 6 years. While the rest of the record is pretty varied, it's obviously Idlewild in most places. Utopia is a different beast altogether, built around a haunting piano refrain with the sustain pedal working overtime... it's great to hear them still keen to experiment.
From his second album, which has been on frequent rotation in my car since it came out, a superb slice of character assassination right up there with You're So Vain from the eponymous JT / FJM...
If the opening verse doesn't make you cheer, you've no right to call yourself a pedant.
Oh, I just love the kind of woman who can walk over a man
I mean like a goddamn marching band
She says, like literally, music is the air she breathes
And the malaprops make me want to fucking scream
I wonder if she even knows what that word means
Well, it's literally not that...
Figuratively speaking...although a true pedant might question his exact definition of malaprops.
In preparation for the long-awaited Meat & Jim reunion album later this year, I've been re-listening to some of their earlier collaborations...and discovering new ways to appreciate them. I ended up sobbing at Objects In The Rear View Mirror (May Appear Closer Than They Are) once the true meaning of that metaphor finally revealed itself to me (I think you have to be a certain age - I didn't get it when I was 21). And I finally figured out just what Meat wouldn't do for love... it's obvious if you just listen to the lyrics, folks. But out of everything on Bat Out of Hell 2 (an ill-advised sequel that's aged surprising well), Everything Louder Than Everything Else is, in many ways, the ultimate distillation of Jim Steinman's songwriting... from the self-explanatory title to the fact that you can almost hear him screaming when the song starts to fade out prematurely around the 7 1/2 minute mark... "No, no, we're not done YET! Somebody get the bagpipes!"
Over the many years I've been writing this blog (and the previous one) I've grown a little tired of explaining why I think Jim Steinman is a genius. If you're not on board that train, it's your loss. But in short, he takes everything I love about Springsteen, Jim Morrison, the Stones and rock 'n' roll, throws in a blender with Dante's Inferno, Richard Wagner and Stephen Sondheim, then turns the resulting noise up to twelve. He's clearly insane, but he knows it... and he has a wicked SENSE OF HUMOUR (which is probably why all the stuffy muso-critics don't get him). Further explanation follows, taken directly from the lyrics of this song...
What's the meaning of life? What's the meaning of it all?
You gotta learn to dance before you learn to crawl!
But it seems to me to the contrary, of all the crap they're going to put on the page,
That a wasted youth is better by far than a wise and productive old age!
If you want my views of history, then there's something you should know: The three men I admire most are Curly, Larry and Moe!
Don't worry about the future, sooner or later it's the past
If they say the thrill is gone, then it's time to take it back! And I like my music like I like my life...
Everything louder than everything else!
I confess I haven't paid much attention to the Decemberists since The Crane Wife, and that's nearly ten years ago now. However, their new album, What a Terrible World, What a Beautiful World (great title), has grabbed me by the lapels, and while this might not be the best song on it...it is the dirtiest.
All I ever wanted in the world
Was just to live to see a naked girl
But I found I quickly bored
I wanted more, oh, so much more...
And if you're wondering just how much more Colin Meloy wants (extra points for being the lead singer of a cool folk-indie band with a name like Colin)... well, all I'll say is that the chorus goes Down. Down. Down.
Came across this on a Blaxploitation compilation I picked up from the library. I've been getting into quite a lot of old 70s funk recently, but this is in a different class altogether. I knew nothing of Lightnin' Rod, but turns out it's a pseudonym for Jalal Mansur Nuriddin, a New York poet who became known as The Grandfather of Rap. The fictional character Sport, introduced in this song, is so cool he makes John Shaft look like David Cameron...
Yes I was a down stud's dream, a hustler supreme
There wasn't no game that I couldn't play
And if I caught a dude cheating, I would give him a beating
And I might even blow him away!
However, the rest of the album isn't quite as funky: Jalal had Kool & The Gang helping him out on the opening track.
I've written about the album this comes from (Benji) a few posts back, but I still can't get over it: I've not heard anything like it... ever. If I were to try to describe it, I'd say it was Loudon Wainwright III doing Nebraska. Which doesn't do it justice at all. Starkly autobiographical lyrics over a ghost train acoustic guitar. And Dogs is the most mesmerising track on there: A Complete History of Mark Kozelek's Sexual Failures (& Successes), it's frank and explicit enough to make Jarvis Cocker blush. But it's also honest and heartwarming and contains truth in the way they say all great art should... I just hope names were changed to protect the guilty.
Oh Patricia, she was my first love. She sat eight rows behind me and I
couldn't breathe. I gave her Pink Floyd - Animals when we were in sixth
grade. And it was on her turntable when I met her on Sunday...
