If We Can Land A Man On The Moon, Then Surely I Can Win Your Heart by Beulah
I love the title to this song. It's so obvious yet so brilliant. The song itself is more fun than anything else, but the title. It really makes you think if we can put a man on the moon, then why can't she love me? After all, all you need is a pretty song. Shouldn't love be that easy? Or at least, easier than putting men on rocket ships to the moon?
I'm not often amazed about the fact that we landed many men on the moon. I don't sit around thinking about it and it doesn't blow my mind, but when I hear this song I do start to think... and it's pretty crazy. We launched men off of Earth and then some how got them to land on the moon. Putting a man on the moon has to be a much tougher feat than falling in love. So if we can as a country or society or as the human race do such a thing... then why can't I win her heart?
I think I'm repeating myself... which means it's time to go... yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah... yeah. I'll fight, if you want me to fight.
Monday, August 11, 2008
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Mrs. Robinson
Mrs. Robinson by Simon & Garfunkel
Where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio,
Our nation turns it's lonely eyes to you.
What's that you say, Mrs. Robinson.
Joltin' Joe has left and gone away,
Hey hey hey.
About two weeks ago I said that "Born to Run" was the most American song of all time. I'm not changing my mind, but those lines above are the most iconic lyrics in American pop culture.
What is interesting about pop culture is that rarely looks to the past in a romantic way. Pop culture isn't nostalgic or longing for "way back when", instead it's about the here and now... you don't hear songs or watch movies about how great the 1970s or 1980s were. Instead we poke fun at the past and try to gain some sort of understanding of the culture then as how we got to where we are today. Sure, eventually what was popular becomes retro, but retroism isn't nostalgic. It's recycling--retroism is just trying to modernize what was cool into the present, in other words it's attempting to be cool in the present by using something that might have been somewhat forgotten.
But Simon hit on something with those lines. Simon turned DiMaggio into a nostalgic hero AND a pop culture icon. DiMaggio was no longer just a great baseball player who was married to Marlyn Monroe at one point; now he was an iconic figure and a nod to the past, a Christ like figure of late 60s popular culture (and still today). When you hear the song, you don't wonder where Joe DiMaggio went, because we all know that isn't important. We are looking for the Joe DiMaggio hero.
So how does this tie in to 1968? Simon wasn't writing the song for the times and the year itself, it was written well before everything that was to happen happened in 1968. But that's probably what fueled the song's success. In a time where everything in American society was being turned on it's head, Joe DiMaggio became the Father of pop culture. We're all searching for Joe DiMaggio, still today, in our culture. The figure that unites us and brings us closer to our past... or as Terence Mann said:
"The one constant through all the years, Ray, has been baseball. America has rolled by like an army of steamrollers. It has been erased like a blackboard, rebuilt and erased again. But baseball has marked the time. This field, this game: it's a part of our past, Ray. It reminds of us of all that once was good and it could be again. Oh... people will come Ray. People will most definitely come."
And THAT is what Paul Simon turned Joe DiMaggio into--a reminder of all that once was good and could be again. That's what Joe DiMaggio is... the Father of Pop Culture.
Where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio,
Our nation turns it's lonely eyes to you.
What's that you say, Mrs. Robinson.
Joltin' Joe has left and gone away,
Hey hey hey.
About two weeks ago I said that "Born to Run" was the most American song of all time. I'm not changing my mind, but those lines above are the most iconic lyrics in American pop culture.
What is interesting about pop culture is that rarely looks to the past in a romantic way. Pop culture isn't nostalgic or longing for "way back when", instead it's about the here and now... you don't hear songs or watch movies about how great the 1970s or 1980s were. Instead we poke fun at the past and try to gain some sort of understanding of the culture then as how we got to where we are today. Sure, eventually what was popular becomes retro, but retroism isn't nostalgic. It's recycling--retroism is just trying to modernize what was cool into the present, in other words it's attempting to be cool in the present by using something that might have been somewhat forgotten.
But Simon hit on something with those lines. Simon turned DiMaggio into a nostalgic hero AND a pop culture icon. DiMaggio was no longer just a great baseball player who was married to Marlyn Monroe at one point; now he was an iconic figure and a nod to the past, a Christ like figure of late 60s popular culture (and still today). When you hear the song, you don't wonder where Joe DiMaggio went, because we all know that isn't important. We are looking for the Joe DiMaggio hero.
So how does this tie in to 1968? Simon wasn't writing the song for the times and the year itself, it was written well before everything that was to happen happened in 1968. But that's probably what fueled the song's success. In a time where everything in American society was being turned on it's head, Joe DiMaggio became the Father of pop culture. We're all searching for Joe DiMaggio, still today, in our culture. The figure that unites us and brings us closer to our past... or as Terence Mann said:
"The one constant through all the years, Ray, has been baseball. America has rolled by like an army of steamrollers. It has been erased like a blackboard, rebuilt and erased again. But baseball has marked the time. This field, this game: it's a part of our past, Ray. It reminds of us of all that once was good and it could be again. Oh... people will come Ray. People will most definitely come."
And THAT is what Paul Simon turned Joe DiMaggio into--a reminder of all that once was good and could be again. That's what Joe DiMaggio is... the Father of Pop Culture.
Friday, August 8, 2008
Revolution
Editor's Note: This week we're looking at the some of the best songs from 1968. Why? Because everyone and their mother is talking about 1968 this year. Sure it's the 40th anniversary of the most important year since 1945, but it seems like the media and old Baby Boomers want some sort of revolution this year. So to please them, we'll look at some of the better songs from 1968 and see what sort of impact they have on some Gen-Yer who was apparently named after Bobby Kennedy (even though both his grandfather and father went by Robert before RFK became a house hold name...)
Revolution by The Beatles
It's funny to think of it this way, but the Beatles weren't all that political. Seeing that Lennon would stage sit-ins or sleep-ins or whatever they were and pen "Give Peace a Chance" just a year later, but alone, not as the Beatles, it's sort of funny to think of the Beatles as a neutral band. But they were. In fact "Revolution", shockingly, was the Beatles first really political song.
Lennon, apparently changed by a trip to India in the early part of the year, wrote the song as a sort of reflection on the events of the first half of '68. Of course, Paul thought it was too political... but the song was released and the opening guitar rifts is pretty chaotic and cool at the same time... and thankfully, this is the better known of the two "Revolutions" released by the Beatles. "Revolution 1" off the White Album, while good, just doesn't carry the same punch that this plugged in 'second take' does.
This might be Lennon's finest moment as a protest or political song writer. He's basically saying, hey, you want change? You want a revolution? That's cool, we all want to change the world, but you know what? Let's take a step back and look at what we're doing. If you're going out there and cause destruction... I'll pass. You're a fan of Mao? Forget it. (Of course this maybe because Lennon was a Trotskyist, so that might be why he was telling Maoists to get lost).
But over all, this song sort lacks that finishing, almost knock out punch, that leaves you on the ground saying, wow. It's good, but it's not great.
Revolution by The Beatles
It's funny to think of it this way, but the Beatles weren't all that political. Seeing that Lennon would stage sit-ins or sleep-ins or whatever they were and pen "Give Peace a Chance" just a year later, but alone, not as the Beatles, it's sort of funny to think of the Beatles as a neutral band. But they were. In fact "Revolution", shockingly, was the Beatles first really political song.
Lennon, apparently changed by a trip to India in the early part of the year, wrote the song as a sort of reflection on the events of the first half of '68. Of course, Paul thought it was too political... but the song was released and the opening guitar rifts is pretty chaotic and cool at the same time... and thankfully, this is the better known of the two "Revolutions" released by the Beatles. "Revolution 1" off the White Album, while good, just doesn't carry the same punch that this plugged in 'second take' does.
This might be Lennon's finest moment as a protest or political song writer. He's basically saying, hey, you want change? You want a revolution? That's cool, we all want to change the world, but you know what? Let's take a step back and look at what we're doing. If you're going out there and cause destruction... I'll pass. You're a fan of Mao? Forget it. (Of course this maybe because Lennon was a Trotskyist, so that might be why he was telling Maoists to get lost).
But over all, this song sort lacks that finishing, almost knock out punch, that leaves you on the ground saying, wow. It's good, but it's not great.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Love Child
Love Child by Diana Ross & the Supremes
This is not the first song about a bastard child, but I'm going to guess it's the first song about a illegitimate child that went to #1 and knocking the vastly overrated "Hey Jude" out of the #1 spot in the process.
The sound sounds edgy from the start, that quick guitar rift and then a ominous beat kicks in. I enjoy the bells (or triangle) in the background... Ms. Ross' voice is stellar as always. But it's the lyrics that really hit home.
If this song were to come out today, it'd be controversial. The first line "Tenement slum" seems revolutionary, and eventually we get to the chorus "Love child/Never meant to be/Love Child/Born in poverty" and then "Love Child/Never meant to be/Love Child/(Scorned by) Society/Love Child/Always second best." Those are some damning words, not to the child or even the parents... but to society.
I'm not sure that 1968 shaped the second half of the 20th century more so than any other year, it was a year of tragedy with Martin Luther THE King and Bobby Kennedy both being assassinated. We saw the protests of Vietnam, the disgrace of the Chicago Police Department, LBJ bow out of the race before it really even started, riots in many black neighborhoods in cities, the tragedy that was Vietnam really began to hit fever pitch... it was one of those years where so many truly sad and tragic events took place that when we look back we're drawn to it. But to say it was the year that shaped American society? That seems like a bit of a stretch. Events prior to and after 1968 all had a huge impact upon American: from JFK's assassination to Watergate. And neither of these events took place in 1968.
But "Love Child" highlights something else. The social ills that we see and face today; they were social ills 40 years ago. In '68, we were attempting to understand these issues and put a face on them; and we are still today. These social issues that we face today aren't new, they aren't a recent phenomon and they weren't new and recent in 1968. I'm not sure where society has gotten the idea that childbirth out of wedlock is a late 20th century and early 21st century trend... it isn't. It's been happening since humans started forming societies, if not before. In 19th century England, historians figure that up to 25% of all births were out of wedlock.
So "Love Child" wasn't ground breaking in that sense, the bastard child has always been down the block... but "Love Child" did introduce the issue to a conservative country and pop culture. Did it make people think? Probably not everyone, but I'm sure it made a few people think about the issue. And for that, it is one of the more important songs to be released.
This is not the first song about a bastard child, but I'm going to guess it's the first song about a illegitimate child that went to #1 and knocking the vastly overrated "Hey Jude" out of the #1 spot in the process.
The sound sounds edgy from the start, that quick guitar rift and then a ominous beat kicks in. I enjoy the bells (or triangle) in the background... Ms. Ross' voice is stellar as always. But it's the lyrics that really hit home.
If this song were to come out today, it'd be controversial. The first line "Tenement slum" seems revolutionary, and eventually we get to the chorus "Love child/Never meant to be/Love Child/Born in poverty" and then "Love Child/Never meant to be/Love Child/(Scorned by) Society/Love Child/Always second best." Those are some damning words, not to the child or even the parents... but to society.
I'm not sure that 1968 shaped the second half of the 20th century more so than any other year, it was a year of tragedy with Martin Luther THE King and Bobby Kennedy both being assassinated. We saw the protests of Vietnam, the disgrace of the Chicago Police Department, LBJ bow out of the race before it really even started, riots in many black neighborhoods in cities, the tragedy that was Vietnam really began to hit fever pitch... it was one of those years where so many truly sad and tragic events took place that when we look back we're drawn to it. But to say it was the year that shaped American society? That seems like a bit of a stretch. Events prior to and after 1968 all had a huge impact upon American: from JFK's assassination to Watergate. And neither of these events took place in 1968.
But "Love Child" highlights something else. The social ills that we see and face today; they were social ills 40 years ago. In '68, we were attempting to understand these issues and put a face on them; and we are still today. These social issues that we face today aren't new, they aren't a recent phenomon and they weren't new and recent in 1968. I'm not sure where society has gotten the idea that childbirth out of wedlock is a late 20th century and early 21st century trend... it isn't. It's been happening since humans started forming societies, if not before. In 19th century England, historians figure that up to 25% of all births were out of wedlock.
So "Love Child" wasn't ground breaking in that sense, the bastard child has always been down the block... but "Love Child" did introduce the issue to a conservative country and pop culture. Did it make people think? Probably not everyone, but I'm sure it made a few people think about the issue. And for that, it is one of the more important songs to be released.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
(Sittin' On The) Dock Of The Bay
Editor's Note: This week we're looking at the some of the best songs from 1968. Why? Because everyone and their mother is talking about 1968 this year. Sure it's the 40th anniversary of the most important year since 1945, but it seems like the media and old Baby Boomers want some sort of revolution this year. So to please them, we'll look at some of the better songs from 1968 and see what sort of impact they have on some Gen-Yer who was apparently named after Bobby Kennedy (even though both his grandfather and father went by Robert before RFK became a house hold name...)
Otis Redding never planed for this to be his swan song, but it's a hell of a good-bye. On December 8th, Mr. Redding finished recording the song. Two days later Redding died in a plane crash outside Madison, Wisconsin.
The song would be released a month later at the onset of the 1968, though in many ways it feels like a song that should have been released at the end of the year. It's a tired song, with waves softly in the background, a relaxing bass line, and then Redding's tired voice.
It's a beautiful song. And I think it sums up how most people probably felt by the end of 1968.
Otis Redding never planed for this to be his swan song, but it's a hell of a good-bye. On December 8th, Mr. Redding finished recording the song. Two days later Redding died in a plane crash outside Madison, Wisconsin.
The song would be released a month later at the onset of the 1968, though in many ways it feels like a song that should have been released at the end of the year. It's a tired song, with waves softly in the background, a relaxing bass line, and then Redding's tired voice.
It's a beautiful song. And I think it sums up how most people probably felt by the end of 1968.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
All Along the Watchtower
All Along the Watchtower by Bob Dylan or Jimi Hendrix
In many ways this is the most appropriate song for this year. A song, with apocalyptic references, released actually just five days before the start of 1968 by Dylan, and then covered and released by
Hendrix in the fall of 1968. It shouldn't come as much of a surprise that Dylan's original sounds completely different than Hendrix's cover.
Dylan plays and sings the song pretty straight forward. A harmonica sets the tone and then a steady guitar and drums plow forward. The lyrics are the most import part of the song, the story that Dylan sings to us is a conversation between a joker and a thief. The song closes, referencing the Book of Isaiah, as two riders approach. The end is near. Dylan's version is some what haunting, but also rushed. It's almost as if Dylan could foresee the political upheaval that the upcoming year would see.
Hendrix's cover, on the other hand, is chilling. It feels like an attempt to catch the craziness of 1968. The opening guitar work and riff might be one of the five most famous openings in all of Rock'n'Roll. It has the feeling of guns and bombs going off, and then Hendrix almost speaks, "There must be some way out of here..." I'm not sure if any of the lines of the song hit home quite like that one.
The song, when viewed from the prism that Dylan wrote it, is a classic case of life imitating art. When Dylan wrote the song, American public opinion was still in favor of the war. It was the Tet Offensive, beginning at the end of Jan. 1968 that would swing American public opinion against the war. Suddenly, by September 1968 when Hendrix sings "There must be some way out of here", it takes on a whole new meaning.
The amazing thing about this song is how two versions, released only 9 months apart, could be so different and feel so different. Dylan's feels almost like a story told by and for citizens of the Middle Ages. I always imagine the people on horses, wearing their Adam of the Road cloths, discussing the story of the Joker and the Thief. On the flip side the Hendrix version is, thanks to so many movies and TV specials, linked to Vietnam. The song sounds like a hopeless cause, no we aren't losing, but we sure as hell aren't winning. Hendrix's version meanders with guitar solos, Dylan's is direct (and naturally 90 seconds shorter).
Now, the question is, why would anyone else cover this song? Dylan's original is pretty great. Hendrix's, according to so many, is even better. So why bother? How can anyone put a new twist on this song? And yes, Mr. Dave Matthew's I'm looking at you and your craptastic cover.
In many ways this is the most appropriate song for this year. A song, with apocalyptic references, released actually just five days before the start of 1968 by Dylan, and then covered and released by
Hendrix in the fall of 1968. It shouldn't come as much of a surprise that Dylan's original sounds completely different than Hendrix's cover.
Dylan plays and sings the song pretty straight forward. A harmonica sets the tone and then a steady guitar and drums plow forward. The lyrics are the most import part of the song, the story that Dylan sings to us is a conversation between a joker and a thief. The song closes, referencing the Book of Isaiah, as two riders approach. The end is near. Dylan's version is some what haunting, but also rushed. It's almost as if Dylan could foresee the political upheaval that the upcoming year would see.
Hendrix's cover, on the other hand, is chilling. It feels like an attempt to catch the craziness of 1968. The opening guitar work and riff might be one of the five most famous openings in all of Rock'n'Roll. It has the feeling of guns and bombs going off, and then Hendrix almost speaks, "There must be some way out of here..." I'm not sure if any of the lines of the song hit home quite like that one.
The song, when viewed from the prism that Dylan wrote it, is a classic case of life imitating art. When Dylan wrote the song, American public opinion was still in favor of the war. It was the Tet Offensive, beginning at the end of Jan. 1968 that would swing American public opinion against the war. Suddenly, by September 1968 when Hendrix sings "There must be some way out of here", it takes on a whole new meaning.
The amazing thing about this song is how two versions, released only 9 months apart, could be so different and feel so different. Dylan's feels almost like a story told by and for citizens of the Middle Ages. I always imagine the people on horses, wearing their Adam of the Road cloths, discussing the story of the Joker and the Thief. On the flip side the Hendrix version is, thanks to so many movies and TV specials, linked to Vietnam. The song sounds like a hopeless cause, no we aren't losing, but we sure as hell aren't winning. Hendrix's version meanders with guitar solos, Dylan's is direct (and naturally 90 seconds shorter).
Now, the question is, why would anyone else cover this song? Dylan's original is pretty great. Hendrix's, according to so many, is even better. So why bother? How can anyone put a new twist on this song? And yes, Mr. Dave Matthew's I'm looking at you and your craptastic cover.
Monday, August 4, 2008
Street Fighting Man
Editor's Note: This week we're looking at the some of the best songs from 1968. Why? Because everyone and their mother is talking about 1968 this year. Sure it's the 40th anniversary of the most important year since 1945, but it seems like the media and old Baby Boomers want some sort of revolution this year. So to please them, we'll look at some of the better songs from 1968 and see what sort of impact they have on some Gen-Yer who was apparently named after Bobby Kennedy (even though both his grandfather and father went by Robert before RFK became a house hold name...)
Street Fighting Man by the Rolling Stones
In a way, it's sort of unfair to look at the music of 1968... art is nearly always a reaction to current events. So I should probably be looking at the songs of 1969 and even 1970, where the impact of 1968 was felt by everyone... but at the same time, what were people listening to in 1968? That might be more important.
Either way, this song, was probably the most blatant attempt by any band or group or song writer to really capture what the hell was going on out there. Leave it to the Stones...
Western history if filled with a few years where a lot of shit happened and it changed everything... 1815, 1848, and 1968. This are years that people take to the streets and demand change. And that's the lasting impression of 1968—people fighting with police on the street. You saw it everywhere: Paris, West Berlin, Prague, Mexico City, in the U.S., the most infamous is Chicago (but really throughout urban America and many college campuses) just to name a few places.
The real question is, do the Stones succeed? On the face of it, yes. Richards' guitar rips and cuts throughout the song with a tentative urgency. The drum work isn't half bad and drives the song along. Mick's voice is distant, horse, and filled with a little rage.
But you know what? As far as protest and militant songs go... Sunday, Bloody Sunday is so much more militant (and really the gold standard, if you ask me). And as far as a protest song... this isn't up to the standards set by, say, Country Joe & the Fish, Dylan, Sam Cooke, and eventually Marvin Gaye. The lyrics the Stones provide us leaves much to be desire: "Well, then what can a poor boy do/Except to sing for a rock n roll band/cause in sleepy London town/Theres no place for a street fighting man"
But in a way, these are honest lyrics; most people could identify with these words because most people didn't take to the streets. They sat around and watched it on TV, talked to their friends about everything, and lived life. 1968 was a crazy year that saw protests of some form in nearly every Western city... but most people didn't participate.
But what's really annoying about this song is that it... is... a... pop... song. It's got a great lick and a pretty good hook. For some reason there is a piano solo. The song isn't all that chaotic, which is what you'd expect if you were trying to write a song about people in the street fighting authority. And the worst part... the song fades out. Why? I don't know... maybe because it's the Rolling Stones, and they're too smart to actually write a protest song that would really piss people off. Basically the Stones are saying, "we're going to tap into what's going on without actually saying anything about it or taking a stance. We're going to be neutral, and you're going to listen and love this because we know how to write hooks and riffs."
Which raises the question, is Coldplay trying to be the Stones and U2 at once?
Sunday, August 3, 2008
S.O.S.
S.O.S. by ABBA
Okay about six things to say about this on... let's do it one at a time:
1) I was driving today when I found this song on the radio... and I thought, you know what, there should be a radio station with good bad songs. Like ABBA. And Mellencamp. And Bon Jovi. And all those other cheesy acts that are some how really good.
2) I don't know who wrote ABBA's songs, and I don't feel like JFGI it, but that person was a genius. I would put the odds that ABBA's song writer was either Barry Gordie, Smokey Robinson, Phil Spector, Carole King, or Neil Diamond at 40%.
3) When it comes to songs about loves that are gone and the singer can live without that person... well this song is literally calling out for help. That's quite an accomplishment. "When you're gone, how can I even try to go on?" and then she sends out an S.O.S. This dude must have been pretty amazing. It's not every day when the girl is singing about how she can't live without the guy. This is a nice twist because I think we're all sick of the guy who's going to kill himself after right after he finishes this song about how he's going to kill himself because he can't live without this girl.
4) My favorite musical of all time is Momma Mia. Seeing that every musical I've ever seen is over the top and the plot is more improbable than the Cubs going 100 years without winning a World Series, I can actually sort of see Momma Mia being realistic.
5) Back to #3... I'll give girls/women credit here--they realize that guys aren't worth it very very early on in their love lives. And they're right. Every guy I know is an asshole, yours truly included*. So really, he's probably doing you a favor by screwing you over. But the flip side of that is that EVERY guy is going to screw you over, Ladies. And you know when you should worry? When he doesn't do anything assholeish or hasn't over a few months. Because that means he is and you haven't found out yet. In other words, when he isn't being a dick, he's doing something so dickish that he won't admit it or show that side of himself. Trust me on this one.
So, Ladies if you've got an Asshole and he does his asshole things and you can live with it, be thankful.
6) Get a load of this video... everyone in the band keeps smiling! They're happy! You have to look pained during a song like this! You can't smile during a song like this! ABBA IS NOT SELLING THIS SONG! I can't take serious. So forget everything I wrote here. Effing Sweden.
*I am not trying to get bonus points for saying this... I just know I fail. I try not to be, honestly, but then I do something really assholeish and I then I get disappointed. And no, I don't use this as an excuse.
Okay about six things to say about this on... let's do it one at a time:
1) I was driving today when I found this song on the radio... and I thought, you know what, there should be a radio station with good bad songs. Like ABBA. And Mellencamp. And Bon Jovi. And all those other cheesy acts that are some how really good.
2) I don't know who wrote ABBA's songs, and I don't feel like JFGI it, but that person was a genius. I would put the odds that ABBA's song writer was either Barry Gordie, Smokey Robinson, Phil Spector, Carole King, or Neil Diamond at 40%.
3) When it comes to songs about loves that are gone and the singer can live without that person... well this song is literally calling out for help. That's quite an accomplishment. "When you're gone, how can I even try to go on?" and then she sends out an S.O.S. This dude must have been pretty amazing. It's not every day when the girl is singing about how she can't live without the guy. This is a nice twist because I think we're all sick of the guy who's going to kill himself after right after he finishes this song about how he's going to kill himself because he can't live without this girl.
4) My favorite musical of all time is Momma Mia. Seeing that every musical I've ever seen is over the top and the plot is more improbable than the Cubs going 100 years without winning a World Series, I can actually sort of see Momma Mia being realistic.
5) Back to #3... I'll give girls/women credit here--they realize that guys aren't worth it very very early on in their love lives. And they're right. Every guy I know is an asshole, yours truly included*. So really, he's probably doing you a favor by screwing you over. But the flip side of that is that EVERY guy is going to screw you over, Ladies. And you know when you should worry? When he doesn't do anything assholeish or hasn't over a few months. Because that means he is and you haven't found out yet. In other words, when he isn't being a dick, he's doing something so dickish that he won't admit it or show that side of himself. Trust me on this one.
So, Ladies if you've got an Asshole and he does his asshole things and you can live with it, be thankful.
6) Get a load of this video... everyone in the band keeps smiling! They're happy! You have to look pained during a song like this! You can't smile during a song like this! ABBA IS NOT SELLING THIS SONG! I can't take serious. So forget everything I wrote here. Effing Sweden.
*I am not trying to get bonus points for saying this... I just know I fail. I try not to be, honestly, but then I do something really assholeish and I then I get disappointed. And no, I don't use this as an excuse.
Friday, August 1, 2008
There is A Light That Never Goes Out
There is A Light That Never Goes Out by The Smiths
One of my five favorite novels is Irving Welsh's "Trainspotting" (the movie also cracks the top five). The book is a bit of a bitch* to read... but once in a while Welsh breaks away from the Scottish dialect and writes in what is totally normal English. And one of those times, Welsh is writing in the third person and discussing Spud, who has met a girl that he likes, and all he can think while walking with this girl are the lines to this song. I forget if it's the chorus or one of the verses (and I don't have the book in front of me to check) but anyway:
And if a double-decker bus
Crashes into us
To die by your side
Is such a heavenly way to die
And if a ten-ton truck
Kills the both of us
To die by your side
Well, the pleasure - the privilege is mine
Yep, the normally dark lyrics of the Smiths are on display here. But it's actually not that dark. Really what Morrissey is saying is "hey, if we die, I wouldn't mind because I'm with you." That's a nice thought. I've never really had a thought like that, but I sort of understand where he's coming from.
Last spring, as I was having my first real conversation with The Girl, I looked above and there was this huge window AC unit looking as if it could fall at any moment... and these lines came to my mind.
"You know the song "There is A Light That Never Goes Out?"
"No," she smiled.
"Oh, well this AC unit has me thinking about it... there's this line about dying and I just sort of thought about it," and I sort of sang, "and if a double decker bus, crashes into us, to die by yourside..." and I let the words trail off. The Girl just sort of nodded. "I kind of want to move," I thought out loud and then changed the subject.
The rest of the night I'd look above and see that AC unit and sort of half pray that it wouldn't fall on us.
Later that night after I left the bar, The Girl called me. To this day I'm not sure why and she never gave me a good reason as to why she called me. But that's how it all began.
*Not to sound like a feminist, but why is it that when something is a pain in the ass, we call it a bitch? Obviously, what we're saying when we say that is that women are pains. This is true... of everyone. Men and women. So why limit pain's in the asses to only women? Why not say "Trainspotting is a bastard to read"? Women have it tough.
One of my five favorite novels is Irving Welsh's "Trainspotting" (the movie also cracks the top five). The book is a bit of a bitch* to read... but once in a while Welsh breaks away from the Scottish dialect and writes in what is totally normal English. And one of those times, Welsh is writing in the third person and discussing Spud, who has met a girl that he likes, and all he can think while walking with this girl are the lines to this song. I forget if it's the chorus or one of the verses (and I don't have the book in front of me to check) but anyway:
And if a double-decker bus
Crashes into us
To die by your side
Is such a heavenly way to die
And if a ten-ton truck
Kills the both of us
To die by your side
Well, the pleasure - the privilege is mine
Yep, the normally dark lyrics of the Smiths are on display here. But it's actually not that dark. Really what Morrissey is saying is "hey, if we die, I wouldn't mind because I'm with you." That's a nice thought. I've never really had a thought like that, but I sort of understand where he's coming from.
Last spring, as I was having my first real conversation with The Girl, I looked above and there was this huge window AC unit looking as if it could fall at any moment... and these lines came to my mind.
"You know the song "There is A Light That Never Goes Out?"
"No," she smiled.
"Oh, well this AC unit has me thinking about it... there's this line about dying and I just sort of thought about it," and I sort of sang, "and if a double decker bus, crashes into us, to die by yourside..." and I let the words trail off. The Girl just sort of nodded. "I kind of want to move," I thought out loud and then changed the subject.
The rest of the night I'd look above and see that AC unit and sort of half pray that it wouldn't fall on us.
Later that night after I left the bar, The Girl called me. To this day I'm not sure why and she never gave me a good reason as to why she called me. But that's how it all began.
*Not to sound like a feminist, but why is it that when something is a pain in the ass, we call it a bitch? Obviously, what we're saying when we say that is that women are pains. This is true... of everyone. Men and women. So why limit pain's in the asses to only women? Why not say "Trainspotting is a bastard to read"? Women have it tough.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Instant Pleasure (Again)
We weren't blogging when we got this e-mail in our inbox:
"i saw and read your blog on "instant pleasure". glad you like the song. i wrote it. seth swirsky --rufus only sang it. all best,
seth"
So we're going to give credit were credit is due: Seth Swirsky wrote the song. And he's written a lot of songs, including "Tell It To My Heart". He also, apparently, has a pretty effin' cool baseball memorabilia collection.
ANYWAYS, I knew this at the time I did the blog entry but forgot to give Mr. Swirsky any credit. The most amazing thing about this song is that it was written for the movie "Big Daddy". That continues to blow my mind. How can a song so good, so 'spot on' some how find its way on an Adam Sandler film soundtrack? It only makes me love the song just a little bit more. But I didn't give Mr. Swirsky credit, so this is me giving him credit. Here is Seth Swirsky's website.
So my apologies to Mr. Swirsky, I didn't mean to slight him in the least. He wrote a kick ass song and Rufus sings it pretty damn well.
Read the original write up of Instant Pleasure here.
"i saw and read your blog on "instant pleasure". glad you like the song. i wrote it. seth swirsky --rufus only sang it. all best,
seth"
So we're going to give credit were credit is due: Seth Swirsky wrote the song. And he's written a lot of songs, including "Tell It To My Heart". He also, apparently, has a pretty effin' cool baseball memorabilia collection.
ANYWAYS, I knew this at the time I did the blog entry but forgot to give Mr. Swirsky any credit. The most amazing thing about this song is that it was written for the movie "Big Daddy". That continues to blow my mind. How can a song so good, so 'spot on' some how find its way on an Adam Sandler film soundtrack? It only makes me love the song just a little bit more. But I didn't give Mr. Swirsky credit, so this is me giving him credit. Here is Seth Swirsky's website.
So my apologies to Mr. Swirsky, I didn't mean to slight him in the least. He wrote a kick ass song and Rufus sings it pretty damn well.
Read the original write up of Instant Pleasure here.
Where Is My Mind?
Where Is My Mind? by Pixies
When I broke up with my first love it was a Saturday night. Nothing really seemed real for the next week or so. I don't really remember anything. It was early April, I went to work, I came home, I don't remember talking or anything... all I remember is listening to this song over and over and over and over again on my walk home from work. My entire life had changed... like that... just by breaking up with a girl.
Sure we had dated for two and a half years and a routine is formed during such a long time... and that was gone. And with the end of the routine I sort of thought I was losing my mind. Only I knew I wasn't losing my mind... it's just when you're completely and totally numb to the world, well, you sort of feel like you SHOULD be losing your mind. To me it felt natural to be listening to this song. I kept asking... "where is my mind?" What else should I be asking? What else should I be listening to? So as "Misunderstood" became my break up song with The Lou, "Where is My Mind?" because my breakup song for EBS.
The interesting thing about the breakup song is that, well, it doesn't work for anyone else ever again. For example, I tried to listen to "Where is my Mind?" when the Lou and I called it quits, but it didn't work. It didn't fit. The song was for EBS and only our break up. The same holds true for "Misunderstood". That's for the Lou and only for me getting over the Lou. It can't be applied to or for anyone else.
The song is also the closing song to the "hasn't aged very well and it hasn't even been ten years" "Fight Club". One of the better closing songs to a movie that pops into my head...
When I broke up with my first love it was a Saturday night. Nothing really seemed real for the next week or so. I don't really remember anything. It was early April, I went to work, I came home, I don't remember talking or anything... all I remember is listening to this song over and over and over and over again on my walk home from work. My entire life had changed... like that... just by breaking up with a girl.
Sure we had dated for two and a half years and a routine is formed during such a long time... and that was gone. And with the end of the routine I sort of thought I was losing my mind. Only I knew I wasn't losing my mind... it's just when you're completely and totally numb to the world, well, you sort of feel like you SHOULD be losing your mind. To me it felt natural to be listening to this song. I kept asking... "where is my mind?" What else should I be asking? What else should I be listening to? So as "Misunderstood" became my break up song with The Lou, "Where is My Mind?" because my breakup song for EBS.
The interesting thing about the breakup song is that, well, it doesn't work for anyone else ever again. For example, I tried to listen to "Where is my Mind?" when the Lou and I called it quits, but it didn't work. It didn't fit. The song was for EBS and only our break up. The same holds true for "Misunderstood". That's for the Lou and only for me getting over the Lou. It can't be applied to or for anyone else.
The song is also the closing song to the "hasn't aged very well and it hasn't even been ten years" "Fight Club". One of the better closing songs to a movie that pops into my head...
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Grace Kelly
Grace Kelly by MIKA
1) I don't think I've seen a movie which featured Grace Kelly.
2) I have been to Monaco, well drove near it at least.
3) This is a fun song...
4) We're drunk, well actually, she's more drunk than I am. It's early summer. We're walking back from Sheffield's. I'm not sure who we were hanging out with, in fact, it was sort of a weird night where I was too often sort of on my own, attempting to figure out how much she was into me, things were going well but then here she was all over the place. But alas, when it was time to go, and we headed out the door together. Any worries that I had faded those first steps west down the Lakeview street. And then she announced that she wanted to sing. I laughed... "What?"
"Oooooo, I don't know, sing something!" she said in a fun, drunk voice.
And out of no where it came to me: "I can be brown/I can be blue/I can violet sky/I can be hurtful/I can be purple/I can be anything you'd like/Gotta be green/Gotta be mean/Gotta be everything more/Why don't you like me?/Why don't you like me?/Why don't you walk out that door?"
And for the next two blocks we sang the verse over and over. A three minute walk home turned into ten minutes. There was excitement in the air and we were enjoying each other and the moment. No one else existed but us. There were hugs and lifting and looking into eyes and touching and kisses...
From that moment on, every once in a while one of us would burst out into song and we'd both stop and sing, smiles wide on our faces, slowly make our way towards each other, and as we sang "out that door" we'd find ourselves in an embrace. We had no worries when MIKA was being sung, he could make any problem go away.
But in the long run life isn't a MIKA song, it's a Wilco song. But the MIKA songs are out there and they are the ones that you enjoy the most... even if they are bittersweet.
1) I don't think I've seen a movie which featured Grace Kelly.
2) I have been to Monaco, well drove near it at least.
3) This is a fun song...
4) We're drunk, well actually, she's more drunk than I am. It's early summer. We're walking back from Sheffield's. I'm not sure who we were hanging out with, in fact, it was sort of a weird night where I was too often sort of on my own, attempting to figure out how much she was into me, things were going well but then here she was all over the place. But alas, when it was time to go, and we headed out the door together. Any worries that I had faded those first steps west down the Lakeview street. And then she announced that she wanted to sing. I laughed... "What?"
"Oooooo, I don't know, sing something!" she said in a fun, drunk voice.
And out of no where it came to me: "I can be brown/I can be blue/I can violet sky/I can be hurtful/I can be purple/I can be anything you'd like/Gotta be green/Gotta be mean/Gotta be everything more/Why don't you like me?/Why don't you like me?/Why don't you walk out that door?"
And for the next two blocks we sang the verse over and over. A three minute walk home turned into ten minutes. There was excitement in the air and we were enjoying each other and the moment. No one else existed but us. There were hugs and lifting and looking into eyes and touching and kisses...
From that moment on, every once in a while one of us would burst out into song and we'd both stop and sing, smiles wide on our faces, slowly make our way towards each other, and as we sang "out that door" we'd find ourselves in an embrace. We had no worries when MIKA was being sung, he could make any problem go away.
But in the long run life isn't a MIKA song, it's a Wilco song. But the MIKA songs are out there and they are the ones that you enjoy the most... even if they are bittersweet.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Even Better Than The Real Thing
Even Better Than The Real Thing by U2
The title of this song always taunts me. "What's better than the real thing?"
I don't know. I can't really think of anything that isn't real that's better than the real thing. Coke is better than Pepsi. Non-lite beer is better than Lite Beer. Real mayo is better than Miracle Whip. I can't think of anything that is worse than the real thing.
But at the same time... I don't think that's the point of the song. But if it's hard for me to believe that in 1990 U2 had a firm grip on virtual reality. I know Bono is a progressive dude and all, but would he really be thinking about the effects of virtual reality on society?
'Oh, you're totally off here, the song is about a girl and love.' Yes, I realize this, but knowing how U2 loves to be obviously unobvoius, I'm onto Bono's tricks. I think deep down, he's trying to be Radiohead BEFORE Radiohead existed... he's being obviously unobvious by writing a song about virtual reality disguised as a song about a girl.
So maybe Bono is being totally progressive and he's worried about the effects of virtual reality on love. But I say, he's a day late and a dollar short. Porn has already totally fucked up real love by allowing people, if they wish, to consume and indulge themselves in virtual reality. After all that's what porn is, virtual reality. A sick, twisted, fake, lustful, submissive, and misogynistic resperentation of reality. Porn is 2D and isn't real, you can't touch it or even have what is taking place. It is a virtual reality.
And that's the interesting thing about virtual reality. We've always had it... virtual reality has always been somewhere in the back of man's mind. Fantasies and fiction were really the first virtual reality machines... then came pictures and porn... and then the video, then the video game, and finally the actual things/boxes that you can go into and consciously shed yourself of all reality and live in a virtual world that you can see and hear (but not touch). We have, as a society, surrounded ourselves with machines that allow us to live in a virtual reality—apparently modern society is so ugly and such a grind we'll do whatever we can to not think about it and not even live in it.
So, say what you will about Bono and U2, but I'll give them credit here... nothing is better than the real thing.
The title of this song always taunts me. "What's better than the real thing?"
I don't know. I can't really think of anything that isn't real that's better than the real thing. Coke is better than Pepsi. Non-lite beer is better than Lite Beer. Real mayo is better than Miracle Whip. I can't think of anything that is worse than the real thing.
But at the same time... I don't think that's the point of the song. But if it's hard for me to believe that in 1990 U2 had a firm grip on virtual reality. I know Bono is a progressive dude and all, but would he really be thinking about the effects of virtual reality on society?
'Oh, you're totally off here, the song is about a girl and love.' Yes, I realize this, but knowing how U2 loves to be obviously unobvoius, I'm onto Bono's tricks. I think deep down, he's trying to be Radiohead BEFORE Radiohead existed... he's being obviously unobvious by writing a song about virtual reality disguised as a song about a girl.
So maybe Bono is being totally progressive and he's worried about the effects of virtual reality on love. But I say, he's a day late and a dollar short. Porn has already totally fucked up real love by allowing people, if they wish, to consume and indulge themselves in virtual reality. After all that's what porn is, virtual reality. A sick, twisted, fake, lustful, submissive, and misogynistic resperentation of reality. Porn is 2D and isn't real, you can't touch it or even have what is taking place. It is a virtual reality.
And that's the interesting thing about virtual reality. We've always had it... virtual reality has always been somewhere in the back of man's mind. Fantasies and fiction were really the first virtual reality machines... then came pictures and porn... and then the video, then the video game, and finally the actual things/boxes that you can go into and consciously shed yourself of all reality and live in a virtual world that you can see and hear (but not touch). We have, as a society, surrounded ourselves with machines that allow us to live in a virtual reality—apparently modern society is so ugly and such a grind we'll do whatever we can to not think about it and not even live in it.
So, say what you will about Bono and U2, but I'll give them credit here... nothing is better than the real thing.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Karma Police
Karma Police by Radiohead
Is Radiohead the hardest band to write about it?
For me... yes. I mean what do you say? For the most part, their lyrics are ambiguous. Yorke has admitted as much—his words mean little to nothing, just pieces or lines of the thousand of words he's written. If the words fit... then they go into the song. So even though I'm not a lyric guy, it's next to impossible to be literal with Radiohead.
Then their is the sound, which is so complex, imo, that attempting to explain it is fruitless (especially considering you can just friggin' listen to the song).
So what you get are amazing songs, that mean nothing, sound great, and attempting to jump start the memory... just doesn't happen for me. I can't say that Radiohead has ever been a soundtrack to any part of my life... because if I'm listening to Radiohead, I'm listening to effing Radiohead. That's it. I'm not making out with a girl or cruising with the windows down and a good friend next to me. Radiohead isn't that kind of band. Just as the Blues Brother's Band wasn't the type of band that wrote letter's to you in prison, Radiohead isn't the type of band that you have on in the background.
Is Radiohead the hardest band to write about it?
For me... yes. I mean what do you say? For the most part, their lyrics are ambiguous. Yorke has admitted as much—his words mean little to nothing, just pieces or lines of the thousand of words he's written. If the words fit... then they go into the song. So even though I'm not a lyric guy, it's next to impossible to be literal with Radiohead.
Then their is the sound, which is so complex, imo, that attempting to explain it is fruitless (especially considering you can just friggin' listen to the song).
So what you get are amazing songs, that mean nothing, sound great, and attempting to jump start the memory... just doesn't happen for me. I can't say that Radiohead has ever been a soundtrack to any part of my life... because if I'm listening to Radiohead, I'm listening to effing Radiohead. That's it. I'm not making out with a girl or cruising with the windows down and a good friend next to me. Radiohead isn't that kind of band. Just as the Blues Brother's Band wasn't the type of band that wrote letter's to you in prison, Radiohead isn't the type of band that you have on in the background.
Friday, July 25, 2008
GfC
GfC by Albert Hammond, Jr.
This song just came out like two weeks ago, I like it, but I have nothing else to say about it, but...
The other day a few friends and I were hanging out. Sitting on a porch, enjoying a perfect night, drinking some beers, talking about whatever it is we talk about (music, movies, and policy). Anyway, some how we started talking about a guy that we all know. I casually mentioned how he had hooked up with a few girls (again, we knew all these girls). This guy had dated someone about a year ago, and a friend of the ex was there with us. Who knows if she knew about the hook ups, but she asked some further questions about it. Nothing big, just more confirming what everyone already knew.
Here's the thing though: no one would have said anything about this guy if his ex was there with us. But his ex obviously wanted and wants to know what he's been doing.
I only point this out because it's true with pretty much everyone I know. After we break up with someone, we want to know what that person is doing. Only no one will ever tell us what that person is doing. We have to go out on our own find out and then ask others if what we think happened happened. It's as if our friends are scared to tell us what they know about our exes... even though we're obsessed with knowing what our exes are doing.
Now, when this occurs, are our friends protecting us? By not saying anything to us, are they protecting us or are they doing us a disservice? If we ask for an update—why is it then okay to tell? And by asking for an update on an ex, we feel like we're obsessed nut jobs who appear to be unable to get over an ex. So we don't ask. No one wants to tell us what they know out of fear of... Lord knows. And we don't want to ask because we don't want to come across as obsessed "I can't get over her" whack jobs.
Forget about the Prisoners Dilemma—someone figure out the Ex Dilemma.
This song just came out like two weeks ago, I like it, but I have nothing else to say about it, but...
The other day a few friends and I were hanging out. Sitting on a porch, enjoying a perfect night, drinking some beers, talking about whatever it is we talk about (music, movies, and policy). Anyway, some how we started talking about a guy that we all know. I casually mentioned how he had hooked up with a few girls (again, we knew all these girls). This guy had dated someone about a year ago, and a friend of the ex was there with us. Who knows if she knew about the hook ups, but she asked some further questions about it. Nothing big, just more confirming what everyone already knew.
Here's the thing though: no one would have said anything about this guy if his ex was there with us. But his ex obviously wanted and wants to know what he's been doing.
I only point this out because it's true with pretty much everyone I know. After we break up with someone, we want to know what that person is doing. Only no one will ever tell us what that person is doing. We have to go out on our own find out and then ask others if what we think happened happened. It's as if our friends are scared to tell us what they know about our exes... even though we're obsessed with knowing what our exes are doing.
Now, when this occurs, are our friends protecting us? By not saying anything to us, are they protecting us or are they doing us a disservice? If we ask for an update—why is it then okay to tell? And by asking for an update on an ex, we feel like we're obsessed nut jobs who appear to be unable to get over an ex. So we don't ask. No one wants to tell us what they know out of fear of... Lord knows. And we don't want to ask because we don't want to come across as obsessed "I can't get over her" whack jobs.
Forget about the Prisoners Dilemma—someone figure out the Ex Dilemma.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Born To Run
Born to Run by Bruce Springsteen
I've never been asked what the most American song of all time is, but let's pretend.
Mag: What is the most American song of all time?
Me: That's not tough. It's Springsteen's "Born to Run". It's completely over the top. Despite coming out of the gate with it's engines roaring, the song still some how manages to build up over time. There is a saxophone solo, which is quite amazing when you think about it, since in a weird way this rock song weaves jazz into itself.
The lyrics are not only in your face and completely unapologetic about it, but they aren't all that sophisticated either. And it tells a brash story of two young lovers who hit the road or want to hit the road, I've never really figured that out, but either way it doesn't get more American than the road.
And Springsteen sings the song so urgently that by the last verse you actually sort of want to run off with your lover. You want to escape whatever it is your doing and hit the road... so even when Bruce sings "Just wrap your legs round these velvet rims/And strap your hands across my engines" you can't help but smile even though they might be two of the cheesiest lines in music history. I mean, everything about this song screams tacky: the sax solo to the piano and the bridge and then finally the lyrics "Tramps like us baby we were born to run"... and in many ways America is tacky. Everyone on Manhattan and the morons in D.C. always forget this—but America is unbelievably tacky. We're loud, brash, careless, big, and unsophisticated; but Americans are also not idiots. We're comfortable with our fast food and simple plot lines.
But in the end, this song is the American Dream. For Springsteen the song was a last ditch, all-or-nothing shot at the big time, which is probably why he sings it so well. The song is really about him and his last chance of getting out of Middle-of-nowhere, New Jersey. If this song doesn't make it, then he's forever stuck. So it's all or nothing for Bruce. It's the American Dream in one 270 second song.
Bruce Springsteen may be cheesy and bizarrely pretentious, but he's also livin' the American Dream and that's the whole point of America isn't it?
Mag: Come on, of all the Springsteen songs, let along all the songs ever written about America, "Born to Run"?
Me: Yes. I dream of the day where I'm driving a Ford F-150 down some road in London or Paris or Moscow with the windows down and "Born to Run" blasting from the stereo. How great would that be? And that's my point... the greatest American song has to be something that combines the American Dream, tackiness, and, in the end, a fuck you to the rest of the world. Bruce Springsteen did this. We should give him more credit for that accomplishment.
I've never been asked what the most American song of all time is, but let's pretend.
Mag: What is the most American song of all time?
Me: That's not tough. It's Springsteen's "Born to Run". It's completely over the top. Despite coming out of the gate with it's engines roaring, the song still some how manages to build up over time. There is a saxophone solo, which is quite amazing when you think about it, since in a weird way this rock song weaves jazz into itself.
The lyrics are not only in your face and completely unapologetic about it, but they aren't all that sophisticated either. And it tells a brash story of two young lovers who hit the road or want to hit the road, I've never really figured that out, but either way it doesn't get more American than the road.
And Springsteen sings the song so urgently that by the last verse you actually sort of want to run off with your lover. You want to escape whatever it is your doing and hit the road... so even when Bruce sings "Just wrap your legs round these velvet rims/And strap your hands across my engines" you can't help but smile even though they might be two of the cheesiest lines in music history. I mean, everything about this song screams tacky: the sax solo to the piano and the bridge and then finally the lyrics "Tramps like us baby we were born to run"... and in many ways America is tacky. Everyone on Manhattan and the morons in D.C. always forget this—but America is unbelievably tacky. We're loud, brash, careless, big, and unsophisticated; but Americans are also not idiots. We're comfortable with our fast food and simple plot lines.
But in the end, this song is the American Dream. For Springsteen the song was a last ditch, all-or-nothing shot at the big time, which is probably why he sings it so well. The song is really about him and his last chance of getting out of Middle-of-nowhere, New Jersey. If this song doesn't make it, then he's forever stuck. So it's all or nothing for Bruce. It's the American Dream in one 270 second song.
Bruce Springsteen may be cheesy and bizarrely pretentious, but he's also livin' the American Dream and that's the whole point of America isn't it?
Mag: Come on, of all the Springsteen songs, let along all the songs ever written about America, "Born to Run"?
Me: Yes. I dream of the day where I'm driving a Ford F-150 down some road in London or Paris or Moscow with the windows down and "Born to Run" blasting from the stereo. How great would that be? And that's my point... the greatest American song has to be something that combines the American Dream, tackiness, and, in the end, a fuck you to the rest of the world. Bruce Springsteen did this. We should give him more credit for that accomplishment.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Across the Universe
Across the Universe by the Beatles
I'm sure there are bands out there who changed as much as the Beatles did in terms of song writing, style, and even ability over the course of their career. But no one has ever done it as well as the Beatles. Think about it—the Stones pretty much kept writing the same style song over and over again. Even when they 'broke away' like on "Exile on Main Street", really it's just stripped down Stones songs off of other albums. The Who tried different means of writing (the rock opera), but Townshend never really changed his style, he always wanted to rock out. U2 claims they have, but they really haven't and when they really did they didn't do it nearly as well. As R.E.M. and Pearl Jam matured, they weren't nearly as good. Bruce Springsteen didn't even bother to even try to change. Marvin Gaye did on "What's Going On" but then went back to being Marvin Gaye (only more sexual). And every singer song writer just keeps writing the same type of song over and over again. The only band I can come up with is Radiohead. Early Radiohead and Radiohead of today is like two different bands. And the same is true for the Beatles.
The Beatles were a pop band, and they remain the greatest pop rock band. But, and I'm not breaking any new ground here, in the mid-60s the Beatles basically said "fuck it" to pop and set out to write killer songs—even Paul (once in a while). John was the most ambitious, and sometimes it didn't work, but much of the time it did (thanks, apparently to Paul, who was the best thing ever to happen to John Lennon, only John Lennon sort of forgot this/never realized this. Even though I think every music critic would disagree, John needed Paul more than Paul needed John. This is probably because Paul is a pretentious bore and wasn't murdered by a rabid fan, therefore we give John the benefit of the doubt. But most great Beatle songs seem to have Lennon as the main author, but it was Paul's subtle influence that put many of these songs over the top).
Like Across the Universe. Paul's influence is limited, but like all songs by the Beatles, someone was saying something to these guys in the studio. Who it was and what it was is always sort of a mystery, but it's obvious it was going on since neither Lennon or McCartney even came close to writing songs during their solo career that can compete with their work with the Beatles.
I'm sure there are bands out there who changed as much as the Beatles did in terms of song writing, style, and even ability over the course of their career. But no one has ever done it as well as the Beatles. Think about it—the Stones pretty much kept writing the same style song over and over again. Even when they 'broke away' like on "Exile on Main Street", really it's just stripped down Stones songs off of other albums. The Who tried different means of writing (the rock opera), but Townshend never really changed his style, he always wanted to rock out. U2 claims they have, but they really haven't and when they really did they didn't do it nearly as well. As R.E.M. and Pearl Jam matured, they weren't nearly as good. Bruce Springsteen didn't even bother to even try to change. Marvin Gaye did on "What's Going On" but then went back to being Marvin Gaye (only more sexual). And every singer song writer just keeps writing the same type of song over and over again. The only band I can come up with is Radiohead. Early Radiohead and Radiohead of today is like two different bands. And the same is true for the Beatles.
The Beatles were a pop band, and they remain the greatest pop rock band. But, and I'm not breaking any new ground here, in the mid-60s the Beatles basically said "fuck it" to pop and set out to write killer songs—even Paul (once in a while). John was the most ambitious, and sometimes it didn't work, but much of the time it did (thanks, apparently to Paul, who was the best thing ever to happen to John Lennon, only John Lennon sort of forgot this/never realized this. Even though I think every music critic would disagree, John needed Paul more than Paul needed John. This is probably because Paul is a pretentious bore and wasn't murdered by a rabid fan, therefore we give John the benefit of the doubt. But most great Beatle songs seem to have Lennon as the main author, but it was Paul's subtle influence that put many of these songs over the top).
Like Across the Universe. Paul's influence is limited, but like all songs by the Beatles, someone was saying something to these guys in the studio. Who it was and what it was is always sort of a mystery, but it's obvious it was going on since neither Lennon or McCartney even came close to writing songs during their solo career that can compete with their work with the Beatles.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Pictures of Lily
Pictures of Lily by The Who
"Pictures of Lily solved my childhood problems/Pictures of Lily helped me sleep at night"
It's line likes these that make Roger Daltrey the most under appreciated vocalist in rock'n'roll. Daltrey had the privilege of singing so many of Pete Townshend's lyrics. Usually this wasn't too big of a deal and Daltrey even at times make Townshend's words and ideas his own (see Tommy).
But then there were times like with "Pictures of Lily"—a nearly three minute ode to masturbation. Daltrey (sheet metal worker turned one of the greatest font men ever) sang the song anyway, even though this, like most Who songs, was all Townshend. I've always wondered what Daltrey did when he got a really twisted song from Pete... did he say anything? In all the biographies and other things I've read on The Who and Daltrey, I only know of one time where Daltrey refused to sing a Townshend song ("However Much I Booze"). Daltrey must have been comfortable and understood that he was just Pete's messenger, not his editor.
As a pop song, it's pretty awesome. Townshend's greatest pop songs always seem to have a real dark or twisted side to them ("Blue, Red, and Grey" and "I Can See for Miles and Miles" come to mind). Catchy with a great hook, you're humming the song and tapping your foot to it from the get go. Just another example of the twisted genius that is Pete Townshend.
"Pictures of Lily solved my childhood problems/Pictures of Lily helped me sleep at night"
It's line likes these that make Roger Daltrey the most under appreciated vocalist in rock'n'roll. Daltrey had the privilege of singing so many of Pete Townshend's lyrics. Usually this wasn't too big of a deal and Daltrey even at times make Townshend's words and ideas his own (see Tommy).
But then there were times like with "Pictures of Lily"—a nearly three minute ode to masturbation. Daltrey (sheet metal worker turned one of the greatest font men ever) sang the song anyway, even though this, like most Who songs, was all Townshend. I've always wondered what Daltrey did when he got a really twisted song from Pete... did he say anything? In all the biographies and other things I've read on The Who and Daltrey, I only know of one time where Daltrey refused to sing a Townshend song ("However Much I Booze"). Daltrey must have been comfortable and understood that he was just Pete's messenger, not his editor.
As a pop song, it's pretty awesome. Townshend's greatest pop songs always seem to have a real dark or twisted side to them ("Blue, Red, and Grey" and "I Can See for Miles and Miles" come to mind). Catchy with a great hook, you're humming the song and tapping your foot to it from the get go. Just another example of the twisted genius that is Pete Townshend.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Dyslexic Heart
Dyslexic Heart by Paul Westerberg
Fun! The lead song of "Singles"! And who doesn't love "Singles"? Despite "Reality Bites" efforts, "Singles" really is the defining GenX/early 90s movie. "Singles", while uneven and even over the top, doesn't get annoying like "Reality Bites". Therefore I give "Singles" the nod. The only lesson anyone can take from the movie is that every girl is looking for a guy who says "Bless you" after she sneezes. Oh, and that totally bizarre Xavier McDaniel cameo where he couldn't have delivered the line any worse... Who can forget that?
Plus I've always sort of wanted to live in that apartment complex in Seattle.
OK, so if "Singles" is the defining movie about GenX, that's a pretty poor representation of Generation X. I'm no GenXer, but I'd have to say the definite piece of art that fully captures GenX is David Eggers "A Heartbreaking Work of a Staggering Genius". Sure, people have their problems with it, but think back to when you read it (or go read it) and you can't help but feel the GenXness oozing out of the memoir, starting with the title (a somewhat ironic title that was probably lost on most people). I'm sure when we look back, 20 years from now, we'll view GenX the much like the lost generation. Stuck between the Cold War and the War on Terror. A generation lost in Seattle but who recolonized New York City at the same time (and to a lesser degree Chicago, and San Fran?).
But back to the song, what exactly is a dyslexic heart? It's not a heart that's backwards or understands people the wrong way. Westerberg, apparently is frustrated by all the single women out there giving him so many signals, and he apparently is always reading these signs incorrectly. Therefore his heart is dyslexic. This then makes pretty much every male on Earth dyslexic—we never read women correctly, especially early on. I've got to admit, a fun but disappointing song considering that Westerberg was the leader of the Mats.
Fun! The lead song of "Singles"! And who doesn't love "Singles"? Despite "Reality Bites" efforts, "Singles" really is the defining GenX/early 90s movie. "Singles", while uneven and even over the top, doesn't get annoying like "Reality Bites". Therefore I give "Singles" the nod. The only lesson anyone can take from the movie is that every girl is looking for a guy who says "Bless you" after she sneezes. Oh, and that totally bizarre Xavier McDaniel cameo where he couldn't have delivered the line any worse... Who can forget that?
Plus I've always sort of wanted to live in that apartment complex in Seattle.
OK, so if "Singles" is the defining movie about GenX, that's a pretty poor representation of Generation X. I'm no GenXer, but I'd have to say the definite piece of art that fully captures GenX is David Eggers "A Heartbreaking Work of a Staggering Genius". Sure, people have their problems with it, but think back to when you read it (or go read it) and you can't help but feel the GenXness oozing out of the memoir, starting with the title (a somewhat ironic title that was probably lost on most people). I'm sure when we look back, 20 years from now, we'll view GenX the much like the lost generation. Stuck between the Cold War and the War on Terror. A generation lost in Seattle but who recolonized New York City at the same time (and to a lesser degree Chicago, and San Fran?).
But back to the song, what exactly is a dyslexic heart? It's not a heart that's backwards or understands people the wrong way. Westerberg, apparently is frustrated by all the single women out there giving him so many signals, and he apparently is always reading these signs incorrectly. Therefore his heart is dyslexic. This then makes pretty much every male on Earth dyslexic—we never read women correctly, especially early on. I've got to admit, a fun but disappointing song considering that Westerberg was the leader of the Mats.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Not Even If You Were The Last Junkie On Earth
Not Even If You Were The Last Junkie On Earth by the Dandy Warhols
For the first few years of college I really liked the Dandy Warhols. Now... I haven't listened to them in years. I was totally disappointed by their third album and never bothered to buy another one after that.
This song is over 10 years old now, and I'm trying to figure out if it could even be called cutting edge at the time. As Courtney Taylor-Taylor sings over and over again, "heroin is so passe". I guess... but I've never thought of heroin as an old trend, which is what passe means after all. LSD is probably passe. But heroin? I don't think so... but maybe it is... I don't know, I don't do drugs.
So what is passe? I alway say New York is passe just because so few trends actually start there. New York thinks it's cool, and it is, but it isn't the coolest.
Hipsters are passe.
Socialism is passe.
I could go on and on and on, but lists are passe too.
For the first few years of college I really liked the Dandy Warhols. Now... I haven't listened to them in years. I was totally disappointed by their third album and never bothered to buy another one after that.
This song is over 10 years old now, and I'm trying to figure out if it could even be called cutting edge at the time. As Courtney Taylor-Taylor sings over and over again, "heroin is so passe". I guess... but I've never thought of heroin as an old trend, which is what passe means after all. LSD is probably passe. But heroin? I don't think so... but maybe it is... I don't know, I don't do drugs.
So what is passe? I alway say New York is passe just because so few trends actually start there. New York thinks it's cool, and it is, but it isn't the coolest.
Hipsters are passe.
Socialism is passe.
I could go on and on and on, but lists are passe too.
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