There's a new Superman film out this weekend... and although I haven't seen it yet, I can confidently predict it will be better than the last few, because Zack Snyder isn't involved. Maybe not quite up to Christopher Reeve's standards, but miracles don't happen that often.
Anyway, here are some Super Songs to celebrate...
15. UN diary reveals they're all a bunch of squares.
For some reason, these words kept coming into my head this week: Evil, Bad, Wicked, Sinful, Wrong, Corrupt, Fiendish, Dark, Despicable, Terrible, Horrible, Awful, No, Good, Repulsive. I've no idea why. But I figured I'd find some appropriate tunes to go along with them...
15. Jagged rocks.
Reef: "a ridge of jagged rock, coral, or sand just above or below the surface of the sea."
While my tolerance for many other movie genres has waned over the years, I've never grown out of the thrill of watching horror films. And I hope I never do.
For Halloween week, I figured I'd share as many songs connected to horror films as I could find...
Barbarian is the best horror film I've seen in the last few years. It's one of those flicks where you think you know where it's going, and then... woah, wait a minute, WHAT just happened?
Another strong contender for best horror movie of the past decade is the Aussie movie Talk To Me. Terrific supporting role for Miranda Otto in this too...
One of the best British horror films of the last 20 years (actually, it's almost 20 years old... which just seems wrong) was The Descent. Great ending, though that was slightly undone by the unnecessary sequel...
I like films where the baddies wear creepy masks and you can't see their faces. The original Strangers movie was a pretty scary movie back in 2008, but like a lot of horror films, its impact has been diluted by too many unnecessary sequels...
I'll have more of these later in the week, but we'll close today with a movie that already featured in this week's Snapshots, when I included a song by The Mock Turtles... largely because they were harder to identify than Jarvis & Pulp would have been.
And while I think the original version of The Wicker Man is untouchable, I also have a soft spot for the gonzo 2006 remake starring Nicolas Cage. NOT THE BEES!
I refer you back to my opening comment: I also like a bad horror film.
Pulp's Wickerman is from their final, unjustly overlooked, album, We Love Life. Produced by Scott Walker, it's Jarvis at his best...
I approach Cannonball with some trepidation. It seems far easier to write about songs, and artists, with whom I've had a lifelong connection - like Prince and Billy Bragg - or to select huge chart hits ready for reappraisal, like When You're In Love With A Beautiful Woman. than to risk confronting a track that's so beloved by the cognoscenti, but that - until recently - I'd never really appreciated in all its glory. Then again, who said writing about music was supposed to be easy?
Let's backtrack. I was always a huge fan of The Pixies, but I never really paid much attention to Kim Deal's splinter / replacement project. Of course, when I say "always a huge fan", I don't mean that I was into the Pixies back in the late 80s when all the Cool Kids were. No, I probably discovered them just about the time the original line-up was breaking up, but as soon as I did I went out and immersed myself in their back catalogue, and that presumably kept me so busy that I didn't pay much attention to what the individual band members did next. Around that time I was also a big fan of Tanya Donnelly's Belly, but this was after Tanya had left The Breeders, so again, another missed opportunity.
Of course, it was impossible to ignore The Breeders - and Cannonball in particular - altogether in the 90s, and I'm sure they made their way into my record collection via indie compilations like Shine or The Best Album In The World Ever, so if you'd asked me back then, I would have told you, "yeah, good song... Kim Deal from the Pixies, right?"... but that would have been as much as I could have written. Right now, you may be wishing I'd submitted this post back then.
So why the reappraisal after all these years? The simple answer is that I finally started to listen to Cannonball in depth when I got round to adding it to one of Sam's in-car compilation CDs. And the more I listened to it, the more I wondered... what the hell is going on in this song?
Spitting in a wishing well
Blown to hell, crash
I'm the last splash
I know you, little libertine
I know you're a real cuckoo
If you were to ask me what first draws me to a song, my answer would always be the lyrics. I love songs that tell stories...
That would be my answer, anyway: that meaningful words maketh the song.
Clearly though, this isn't always the case. I mean, I haven't a chuffing clue what Michael Stipe's on about half the time, and yet REM are one of my favourite bands.
(I always presume that Country Feedback is about the time that Michael went on Bullseye with Jim Bowen. He didn't win the caravan or the speedboat. That's why he sings, "It's crazy what you could've had" repeatedly towards the end of the song.)
Also, if words were everything, then why the hell do I like this?
I mean, that's just nonsense. And it's not even The Beatles ripping off Edward Lear or Lewis Carroll nonsense. It's just nonsense. Don't try and explain it to me.
All of which brings me back to Cannonball, a song with lyrics that, on the surface at least, are complete balderdash... and yet, that doesn't stop it being an addictive listen.
But wait! Detailed lyrical analysis has been provided by the web of lies, so let me clue you in on what Cannoball is really all about. First off, it transpires that when Kim Deal wrote the song, her sister Kelly was spending a little too much of her free time reading the complete works of the Marquis de Sade. Those crazy alt-rock chicks, right? Here's an extract from an interview with the Phoenix New Times in 1996...
KD: This magazine in Britain keeps faxing me the same question over and over. Let's see what they want . . . (Laughs) Check it out--they want to know what author has been a major influence on my work. Hah!
NT: You don't care for the question?
KD: I've just never connected music with books. Wait, that's not entirely true. "Cannonball" was inspired by the writings of Marquis de Sade.
NT: What? "I'll be the bong in your reggae song" was inspired by Marquis de Sade?
KD: Well, not that line specifically. But the message of the song as a whole was making fun of Sade and his libertarian views that if he was better off than someone, then they were just fodder for him. Playthings. It was saying, "Come on, life's not a contest."
NT: So you're pretty much anti-Sade.
KD: Well, I don't know. Later on I found out he used to suck the snot out of people's noses, and I thought that pretty much ruled.
I think I could pretty much end this post there and call it a win, don't you?
However... that's not the only lyrical interpretation of Cannonball to be found on the interweb. Pop over to Genius, a website I spend far too much time perusing, and you will discover the theory that Cannonball is actually a barbed riposte to Pixies frontman Frank Black, who famously fired Deal, and Pixies drummer David Lovering, via fax in 1993. Speculation has it that Kim was sick of being beholden to Frank's vision, rarely allowed to contribute to the songwriting in the Pixies, creatively stymied until she started a band of her own. Which supposedly explains the repetition of the line "In the shade" and even the aforementioned "bong in this reggae song" bit.
If any of that's true, then I think there's a slight irony in connecting Deal's Marquis de Sade references in the most famous Breeders song with the references to an equally contentious piece of "art", Luis Buñuel's Un Chien Andalou in arguably the most famous Pixies song... but I may be reaching here.
None of this helps explain the allure of Cannonball though... and if I can't put it down to the lyrics, then it must be the music, right?
Except... musically, from a layman's perspective at least, Cannonball is all over the place. It sounds like three or four different songs edited together - and they even left gaps at some of the edit points! Iffypedia informs me that the "demo was originally called 'Grunggae' as it merged 'island riffs and grunge'".
I can hear the grunge - that's when the really loud buzzsaw guitar cuts in out of nowhere, right? But try as I might, I can't hear the reggae influence in Cannonball, nor can I comment on the tempo, chord progression or the "bubbling bass line", "slithering guitar lick" or "slyly humorous vocal melody" delivered "with a seductive shyness". I mean, there's cuckoos and bongs, and they're quite funny, I guess... but that just brings me back to the lyrics. Despite getting a C at GCSE Music and doing Music Theory exams up to Grade 8, I've forgotten more than I ever learned about time signatures and major / minor keys... I'm always envious of bloggers like Swiss Adam for their ability to write about the musicky bits of popular music. As an English teacher, I have some confidence in commenting on lyrics, but sounds are much harder to analyse.
In closing then, I've written well over a thousand words about this song, but not come close to answering the question of why I like it. Maybe that's an answer in itself.
P.S. If you're ever putting together a mixtape and want the perfect track to follow Cannonball, can suggest the following, from Sam's 153rd CD... it works surprisingly well.
Yes, I could have chosen the logo of Twenty One Pilots to illustrate this post, but I don't think they ever recorded a song as good as this. Feel free to disabuse me of that notion should you wish. Jim In Dubai also suggested another 12 group...
Personally though, The Swede concludes, I'd like to suggest Twenty One by The Apartments. What a truly wonderful band they are.
That is very nice, I have to admit it. Doesn't exist in my own record collection (yet), which is the one stipulation to be a winner on this series. But I definitely have to investigate it further.
Where's Lynchie? Putting all his eggs in one basket this week, it seems...
And... of course... this, which was our opening suggestion this week, from Charity Chic, who almost begged... The Adverts - No Time to Be 21, please, Rol.
C seconded that too, and, well... why not?
Life's short, don't make a mess of it To the ends of the earth, you'll look for a sense in it No chances, no plans I'll smash the windows of my box I'll be a madman It's no time to be 21 To be anyone
To be honest, even though I'm not particularly enjoying 47... I don't think I'd fancy being 21 again. Would you?
And so we finally reach the Top 20. On your marks... get set...
Welcome back to the Hot 100. Before Christmas we got as far as #27, so basic accounting dictates we move on to number 26, as illustrated by Australian band... erm... 26. Appropriately enough, here is their song A New Beginning. Muse fans may want to give that a spin.
"If, like me, you are a bit of a sucker for just about anything sung in French, then I give you Stereolab's OLV 26."
And then came Douglas, still freezing his elbow patches* off on the picket line...
(*I'm presuming Canadian teachers have elbow patches on their threadbare blazers, just like teachers in the UK.)
"I don't recall if it has been mentioned many times already for other numbers, but Roger Miller's song Got Two Again is chock full of numbers and sums, including this verse containing our beloved number 26:
For the second verse
I need someone to give me a number
Between 12 and 14, I'll make a verse (13!)
13, ah, 13, well, 13 multiplied by 1
You still got 13 but wasn't that fun?
Now, take that same 13 multiply by 2
26 hours the train's overdue…
Never heard that before, Douglas, but I approve.
"And if the train is indeed 26 hours overdue, then that would make R.E.M.’s 26 hour road trip described in the song Departure unfortunately twice as long, at 52 hours (keeping with the sums theme, though I suspect that if they are going via Singapore and Spain to Salt Lake City I suspect their mode of travel is more likely a plane?):
Just arrived Singapore, San Sebastian, Spain, 26-hour trip
Salt Lake City, come in spring
Over the salt flats a hailstorm brought you back to me
Salt Lake City, come in spring
Over the salt flats a hailstorm brought you back to me
"And that's all I got, folks."
Both good suggestions. Not heard Departure in ages.
Finally, Rigid Digit returned with another fine lyrical offering...
However, for this week's suggestion I'm going with 12 minutes of protest song, from Gil Scott Heron, reacting to the election of President Ronald Reagan in 1981. Listen to this today and change a few names and statistics and it can surely apply to a couple of more recent election results as well..
Well, the first thing I want to say is..."Mandate My Ass!"
Because it seems as though we've been convinced
That 26% of the registered voters
Not even 26% of the American people
But 26% of the registered voters form a mandate...
Or a landslide...
The idea concerns the fact that this country wants nostalgia
They want to go back as far as they can ...
Even if it's only as far as last week
Not to face now or tomorrow, but to face backwards
Next week, we reach the last quarter in our century. Your 25s will be much appreciated...
American metal band 36 Crazyfists (named after a Jackie Chan movie) welcome us back to the Hot 100 countdown after a week's break. Let's get straight onto your suggestions...
Martin started us out with what may well seem the obvious one. Alyson seconded this and added a little extra commentary...
The song was written over 25 years ago but nothing seems to have changed, in
fact in anything things have got worse. Red haired singer Briana
Corrigan left the band because of it, feeling that the lyrics criticised
the glamour models rather than the industry that pays them.
What
are we doing to a large chunk of the female population who seem to
think the route to happiness and success is still via grossly enlarged
chesticles. Argh.... Sorry rant over!
No need to apologise, Alyson, you can rant here anytime you want.
To be honest, that was almost this week's winner as I used to love that song, but Mr. Heaton has done pretty well out of this countdown so far, so I decided to go in a different direction.
Ow, she's a brick house Well put-together, everybody knows This is how the story goes She knows she got everything That a woman needs to get a man, yeah, yeah How can she lose with the stuff she use 36 24 36, oh what a winning hand
Beyond
the gleeful 70s objectification of larger ladies, you can imagine
British DJs having to bite their tongue every time they played this
record so as not to add an extra word to the title.
How about a groovy foot-stomping early '60s instrumental from The Shadows - 36-24-36 (no idea what it's about though, a phone number
perhaps or a bank sort code?)
Did they have sort codes in the 60s?
Finally in this particular subsection, Bobby Bland knows a lady with similar dimensions...
Placebo - 36 Degrees (That would have taken the bronze medal this week from me.)
However, Lynchie, Charity Chic and Rigid Digit all agreed on this week's winning tune. Not that this is a democracy - your votes really don't count. Not unless I agree with them. (Insert your own comment about the current establishment here.) Luckily, I did agree... Jesus Of Cool is a great album!
Next week - the minimum age requirement to stand for election as President of the United States of America. Age requirement, not IQ. Any ideas for 35?
Back to Scotland this week, and the picturesque coastal village of Ullapool in the Highlands. With a population of only 1500 people, it's hardly surprising that I couldn't find any famous residents of Ullapool... although Sir Tim Rice owns a huge estate not far away.
Much more surprising was who I found name-dropping Ullapool in his lyrics...
Take it away, Boston-based Pixie-bloke Frank Black...
Though I am such a fool If I can, I'll be driving to the end Here I am in Ullapool, I haven't a plan Just to turn me 'round again
The humble Walkman. How it revolutionised our world. Kids today don't know how lucky they have it when they can stream or download any song they want to hear immediately to their phone, tablet or domestic pet. This device let us take our music with us wherever we wanted... and made it even easier to ignore conversations on the bus than ever before.
Ten songs then that pay tribute to the Walkman... with special mention, of course, to The Walkmen.
My misspent twenties. Not my usual bag, I'm sure you'll admit, but this was back when all Eminem had to do was open his mouth and I bought it. And as Eminem never actually shut his mouth, I bought a lot...
One day I was walking by
With a Walkman on
When I caught a guy
Give me an awkward eye
And I strangled him up in the parking lot
With his Karl Kani
Plus, Dr. Dre is cool, whichever way you cut it. Even if you're an uncool kid like me you can see that.
Happy New Year from Top Ten Towers. After all the excitement of my 2015 countdown, we now return you to your regular programming: random Top Tens plucked from my record collection. Although the first tune this week kinda breaks that rule.
2016 is a leap year, which means there's one extra day. But although February will now have 29 days, there will be no 8 day weeks... no matter what the Beatles would have you believe. All of which is an extremely tenuous way of introducing this lot...
I was genuinely surprised to discover that there is NO Sting in my record collection. And, as this blog will often demonstrate, I have some UTTER TAT in my record collection. But no Sting. Yeah, I've got The Police, and a few random collaborations, but not one solo Sting tune. I'm not quite sure why. I mean, yes, I do consider him a bit of a tosser, but it's not as though I actively dislike him in the way I actively dislike Bono or the Gallaghers. (And I own music by all three of those idiots.) My favourite Sting song is his version of Spread A Little Happiness from the soundtrack to Brimstone & Treacle, but sadly (some kind of rights issue?), this has never featured on any Sting compilations... otherwise I might have been tempted to buy it.
Anyway, Sting's Seven Days is perfectly adequate Radio 2 filler, and it would have been churlish not to have given it at least a mention once I remembered it.
Frank Black might help re-establish my indie credentials a little. This doesn't sound anything like the Pixies, but it's unmistakably Black Francis. Strange, that.
When Camper Van Beethoven called it a day, David Lowery decided to play it a little more straight with his next band, Cracker. But the old lyrical oddities still crept in...
Bug's got a job in the Catskills
Met some Fraulein along the way
Took her home, but then she had an episode
Though it did disturb him, he was strangely compelled
Hours isn't a classic Bowie album, but this track wouldn't have been out of place on Ziggy Stardust. The guitar certainly has a Mick Ronson flavour. And even though the title doesn't mention days, the chorus does...
I've got seven days to live my life Or seven ways to die...
Feeder were always a band I kind of half-liked (always loved the singles) but I never bought any of their albums. My newfound love of charity-shopping (inspired, in part, by Charity Chic's excellent blog) has increased my Feeder collection greatly. All for a quid a pop! And they say CDs are dead...
Anyway, this one was obviously made for the US market. It's not a spiky as many of their earlier tracks, but the chunky, Blink 182-esque guitars are fun.
Freddie had a typically flamboyant way of playing the piano, perfectly demonstrated on the intro to this John Deacon-written album track from the 1978 album Jazz. I've got a lot of time for John Deacon, he seems the only surviving Queen member to have kept his self-respect intact, refusing to get involved in any of the band's ridiculous post-Freddie shenanigans.
Taken from the soundtrack of the justly forgotten 1986 "comedy" Club Paradise starring Robin Williams, Peter O'Toole (who was nominated for a Razzie Award for Worst Supporting Actor) and Jimmy Cliff himself. Not sure how they roped Elvis in, but the song still works well. I reckon Elvis's voice was at its absolute best around the mid-late 80s and it blends well with Jimmy's here. I first heard this as a bonus track on the special edition one of my favourite Costello albums, Blood & Chocolate.
A cover of the old Northern Soul song by Chuck Wood from 1967... and Chuck's is a pretty damned good version... but I just love me the Dexys. This is from their first ever album, which will soon be 36 years old.
Such facts make me feel ancient and very, very tired. A good way to start the new year.
1. Animals That Swim - Seven Days
Animals That Swim were a curiously beguiling little band formed in the late 80s, though this is from their third (and final... to date) album from 2001. They remind me a lot of the quirky, literate, real life indie written by Stuart Murdoch (Belle & Sebastian) or Shirley Lee (Spearmint). This song tells of a life counted off in ten year birthdays, beginning with my favourite kind of lyrical detail...
On my tenth birthday I danced naked on the lawn Making rain fall from a red watering can. On my twentieth birthday Slumped in the corner Wearing Rhiannon's make up and pearls Clamouring 'Give me attention, please!'
And thus it continues till the narrator abruptly expires on his seventieth, followed by a pithy observation about certain special birthdays...
It seems every time It gets easier and easier to die.
What a cheerful start to 2016! I'll see you all in 7 days. Or 6. Or 8. Depending.
Part of this record was released back in 2013 on the band's website, so it feels odd to be including it here. However, I stopped myself from including that in last year's countdown because it wasn't an album, so I could hardly ignore it this year.
The reformed Pixies then, now without both Kim Deal and the definite article: what else do you need to know? Their first album of new material in 23 years (yes, that'll make us all feel old) was almost as good as we wanted it to be: but certainly a hell of a lot better than we expected it to be. From the David Lynch does Talking Heads insanity of the lead single Bagboy, this was obviously a band still firing on all cylinders. And as opening lines go, Black Francis has rarely written better:
I had a bad reaction To your public hobby writing I get no satifaction From your very recent sightings
Once he starts complaining that our bad breath and dirty teeth makes us all talk shit... well, even now, Bagboy remains my favourite song on the record. But there are many other great flavours to be found in this tube though, from the quintessentially Pixies What Goes Boom? (the video is worth 3 minutes 33 seconds of anybody's life) to Frank's nutty salute to Yorkshire witchcraft (apparently!) Blue-Eyed Hexe. Another Toe In The Ocean is the album's most radio-friendly offering while the title track is hilarious. Few of the lyrics make the remotest bit of logical sense, but when did they ever? They paint vivid pictures and suggest all kinds of hallucinatory insanity though, and that's exactly what you want from a Pixies album. Yeah, OK, as Martin pointed out, there's a few tracks in the second half that could be anybody (they're just not Pixies enough), but even without Kim, this doesn't feel like another Black Francis solo album. It feels like the band we all loved when we were 20 years younger. It's good to have them back.
Next up, at number #6... a former Kiley takes a journey.
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