#1351: The Velvet Underground – There She Goes Again

Leave a reply

Funny how the title of today’s song is the following lyric to that of the previous post. At least I think it’s a little amusing. Both respectively from total opposite sides of a spectrum, though. ‘There She Goes Again’ is a track by The Velvet Underground, another one of theirs showing their face here, this time appearing on the band’s debut Velvet Underground & Nico album from 1967. Think I have a whole backstory on my first experience of that record when covering its opener ‘Sunday Morning’. But for anyone who wants a brief, brief recap: Was frequenting besteveralbums.com around 2012. Saw a “best ever albums” ranking. …Nico was very high on the list. Was an album definitely considered to be a “classic”. Listened through it on Spotify and and liked it enough to pirate onto the old computer. There it is. And I think ‘There She Goes…’ was one of my favourites on there from the beginning.

Now, ‘There She Goes…’ might sound, to some, like the most “normal” sounding song on the LP. I think its placement, following the seven-minute, two-chord opus of ‘Heroin’, was a very intentional choice. Sounds very normal compared to that. But then you go a little deeper, find out the song’s written about a frustrated prostitute, and it’s like “Oh, it’s not all that different.” Not so different in terms of themes of seedy, urban life that are a constant throughout the album, anyway. In terms of the performance, it’s definitely the most laidback out of the tracks that don’t feature vocalist Nico. It starts off with a musical quotation of Marvin Gaye’s ‘Hitch Hike’, which occurs again at various points as the song goes on, and the guitars all sort of chug along while Maureen Tucker thwacks away on the snare drum. I’ve never really thought about it before, but it also sounds like Lou Reed’s doing a bit of a Bob Dylan impersonation in the verses (“She down on here kneeees, my frieeend”). I can’t think of it as anything else now. But it all adds to the song’s character.

What I think is the real gem of the song comes in those “There she goes” harmonies that respond to Reed’s phrases during the verses. Those things are probably what got me hooked when I first heard it years ago. I believe they’re both done by fellow bandmember John Cale, and they make for great contrast of lightness to Reed’s gritter sing-talking. “There she goes agai– There she gooooes”. I can hear them in my head as I type it out to you. I don’t know, seems funny to have these innocent-sounding harmonies in a song about a working girl. But then again, that’s probably the whole point. Gotta dig how the track goes into double-time right at its end too. I’m a fan of it all. R.E.M. did a well-known cover. I prefer the original. Johnny Marr used the song’s opening as inspiration for the beginning of ‘There Is a Light That Never Goes Out’. The song has its admirers. I’ve read comments calling it filler. I’m not a fan of those comments.

#1350: The La’s – There She Goes

Leave a reply

Probably like a large majority of people in the world, I heard ‘There She Goes’ before actually learning about who made the tune. I can remember it being used in a TV advert that was repeated numerous times in the early ’00s. The company – I feel like it was a furniture one for some reason – only used the song’s main refrain, and if just that and a few guitar chords were able to stick in my head and get me singing randomly on some days then it must have been a good one. Just a little aside here, those first few lines I wrote in 2017 when I began what turned into the post for ‘I Can’t Sleep’. I’ve been waiting for this day to arrive for eight years, and now I can finally get this out of the ‘Drafts’ section. Anyway, yeah, ‘There She Goes’. It’s by The La’s. It’s their signature song, a jangle-pop masterpiece written by Lee Mavers. The released version on the band’s self-titled album is 35 years old. Its origins go further back to the tail-end of the ’80s. But it never gets old. Just sounds so fresh every time.

Where do I even start with this one? I feel like ‘There She Goes’ is a tune that everyone should know. But as the years go on, there’s gonna be this whole generation who come in and wouldn’t even know who the band is, let alone the song. If there’s anyone reading who weren’t aware of both, what do you think now? Sounds great, doesn’t it? What I’ve come to like about ‘There She Goes’ is that it’s essentially a chorus repeated nearly from start to finish, with I guess a bit of a bridge happening in the middle when the song goes into a minor key for a few moments. But even then, the lyrics remain on the same rhyme pattern/train of thought. It’s got a beautiful melody, sung by Mavers with the falsetto on the “There she goooes” and the raspier tone on the “can’t conta-e-ain” phrases. Bass guitarist John Power joins in with the countermelodies in the backing vocals. And it’s all united by that earworm of a guitar riff. Melodies galore, and good ones too. You really can’t go wrong.

And all of this comes to the main question set up by the lyrics. He is singing about a girl, or is he singing about heroin? The answer… is yes. I’m sure a lot of people just go with the latter because how many songs out there are about liking women? It’s the “cooler” interpretation. The whole thing’s for sure set up as as a two-and-a-half minute double entendre, though. Whatever the song’s about doesn’t affect how I feel when I listen through, which is usually a combination of happiness and satisfaction. How Lee Mavers felt about the song is another thing. I read he much preferred the single version, released a few years before in 1988. And while trying to find that perfect sound when recording the album, the band tried out versions with producers John Leckie and. Mike Hedges. And those are just the ones that have been officially released. There are probably other mixes floating out there somewhere. That album version’s always sounded fine to me.

#1349: Pixies – There Goes My Gun

Leave a reply

I have a feeling this song has the same sort of rep as the last one I wrote about a couple days ago. ‘There Goes My Gun’ isn’t the shortest song on Pixies’ Doolittle, but it’s pretty close to being so. It looks more like something to warm you up before getting into the meat of ‘Hey’ that follows. Might be considered something of a track of low importance. I’m not sure, I’m not within many circles who have Pixies in their listening radar who could verify whether that last sentence is the case or not. On Spotify, it does have the second lowest number plays on the album, so I’ll have to take that as some kind of consensus. But when it comes to me, I enjoy the hell out of it. Again, one of my favourites on this particular album, which some reading may find peculiar. Maybe not. I don’t know what to tell you. Sometimes it’s those short, unassuming numbers on certain albums that turn out to be the standouts for me.

The track is one of very few words/lines. They are as follows: “Yoo hoo”, “There goes my gun” – which as a chorus is repeated a number of times – “Look at me” and “Friend or foe”. Very economical, indeed. A prime example showing you don’t need much into order to make a song. Least in terms of the lyrics. According to frontman Black Francis/Frank Black/Charles Thompson, the song is a scene where the narrator is yelling each verse into a sort of dark abyss/expanse of space before proceeding to shoot their gun as they continue to get no kind of response. That’s certainly a unique situation for inspiration of a song. I like the track for its minor-keyness, which doesn’t make it sound sad but more threatening like something’s about to jump out the shadows and strike, and for its heavy swinging motion. I feel like I’ve written a lot about swinging feels in songs lately. What’s this one in, 12/8? That can be the best time signature.

Doolittle is an album full of unhinged vocal performances by Francis. ‘There Goes My Gun’… actually might be one that comes a little lower on that spectrum. Maybe in the middle. But he does provide a great contrast of yelling in the verses and switching to the melodic singing for the choruses. And then in those, Kim Deal responds to Francis’s ‘there goes my gun’ line… by repeating the same phrase, but with that sweet tone of hers in comparison. Those Francis-Deal vocal back-and-forths the highlight of many a Pixies song. It’s no different here. David Lovering’s pounding those drums, feels like there’s an extra oomph in those toms. Joey Santiago’s bending a string to make for an unusual guitar riff. And I don’t think I truly appreciated this song until I watched a video where I saw what Francis was doing on the rhythm guitar, particularly during the choruses. I’m sure it was the video, below, of them at Glastonbury in 1989. He goes on a run down the guitar neck before sliding up again and resolving into the minor-chord of the verse. Just adds that extra movement in the music. Thumbs up, thumbs up.

#1348: The Velvet Underground – That’s the Story of My Life

1 Reply

‘That’s the Story of My Life’ is a tune from The Velvet Underground’s self-titled album from 1969, one I heard when I came across that particular record… I think some time in 2013. I was going through a best ever albums list on a site called besteveralbums.com. That’s a place I’ve shouted-out many a time on here, it’s never done me wrong. The Velvet Underground was placed relatively high on that list, and through listening 18- or 19-year-old me was exposed to tracks like ‘Pale Blue Eyes’, ‘Beginning to See the Light’, ‘Jesus’… There’s a lot of good stuff on there. ‘That’s the Story…’ is the album’s shortest song. Some may even argue it a little inconsequential, more a palate cleanser for the huge experimental track that follows. I’m sure I probably felt the same way, initially. But at this point it’s more or less one of my favourites on the LP. Once you’ve got the lyrics down, it’s hard to get the whole track out of your head.

And it’s very easy to memorise those words because there’s only one verse, one that’s repeated a couple more times before the song finishes with a flourish. “That’s the story of my life / That’s the difference between wrong and right / But Billy said that both those words are dead / That’s the story of my life”. Very concise, very simple, great little melody alongside a swinging acoustic feel. It does the job as a song. What it all means is something that’s passed me by. Even with the limited number of words used, I’ve always kind of felt there was a lot being said. But what it is, I couldn’t tell. Thankfully, this YouTuber did a video essay all about the album – I’m linking to where they talk about ‘Story’, but the whole thing’s worth a viewing – covering the track in some depth. In a way, they highlight ‘That’s the Story…’ as being one of the most important songs on the LP as it sums up the paradox at the core of it. The difference between wrong and right, good love and bad love. I’m just typing out what they say. It would be much better if you saw it for yourself.

So yeah, that’s the story of my story with this song. Why aren’t there more songs from The Velvet Underground on this blog, you might ask. I made the decision to stop adding songs to my phone in about 2021, and it seems between 2013 and then ‘Jesus’ and this one were the only two on the album that I really, really enjoyed. I’ve got a few more from there on my Liked Songs playlist on Spotify, a streaming service that I know very few people like anymore for very understandable reasons. I’ve come to appreciate the album a lot in the past few years. Not ’cause of the whole context of the band doing a whole 180 in sound after founding member John Cale left and seemingly took the abrasive, freakier side of the music with him. I think I’ve just matured enough as a person that I can listen to each song on there and realise how good each one is. Plus, it must have influenced so many people. Anyone else hear Julian Casablancas or Stephen Malkmus throughout it all? Sounds like they got their whole style from this one project. I’m glad it exists.

#1347: James Dean Bradfield – That’s No Way to Tell a Lie

Leave a reply

After finishing what was to be their last tour for a couple years in 2005, the members of Manic Street Preachers took a little break from each other. During that time, drummer Sean Moore… well, no one really knows, but I’m sure he had a good one. Bass guitarist and lyricist Nicky Wire went and recorded a solo album, released in 2006, called I Killed the Zeitgeist. And in the same year came The Great Western, James Dean Bradfield’s first solo project. Bradfield, as many may know, is the lead singer of the Manics, taking great pride in writing the music of the band’s songs alongside Moore. It wasn’t until 2001 that fans got a completely penned Bradfield song, covering music and lyrics, in the form of ‘Ocean Spray’. So how would a whole album of Bradfield-written tracks turn out? I can’t say myself, I’ve never listened to the whole thing. But the one track I know from there, the album’s opener and selected first single, I’ve enjoyed for a very long time. I guess almost 20 years now, ain’t that something?

I saw the video for ‘That’s No Way to Tell a Lie’ once on TV, and it feels like it was never played again. It most likely was. But if that’s the case, I didn’t see it. The video showed up, not on MTV2 but VH2 when that was a channel in the UK. I was sitting on the floor chilling, as you do when you’re 11 years old, watching Bradfield getting dunked into a lake while another Bradfield in shades watches on accompanied by some Asian mobsters while the song played over the top. I didn’t know what was going on. The song sounded all right, though. The chorus where the title’s sung a couple times left a mark. The visual of the mobsters lip-syncing the “Sha-la-la-la” vocals in the break were funny. The video finished, life happened. I’m sure I kept the song in the back of my mind for a while. But then it got to a point where I couldn’t get away from it later on in 2006, because someone at the BBC decided the track would make good backing music for the Goal of the Month competition on Match of the Day. It was like that for a good two seasons of football. Was singing along to it probably every time. So there you go. I was locked in.

I’ve been singing along to the lyrics and enjoying the music to this for so long now, I’ve never thought to go and really dig deep into what the song’s about. I did always like the “I hear you’ve got something to say / But first you need some people to say it to / Just before you rise from the dead” lines. I don’t know just something to the sound of them. But in Bradfield’s words, the song’s about “the push and pull of your head and your heart telling you different, conflicting things about the way you should feel about religion”. Your head saying, “No,” but your heart saying “Yes”. He says so here. I never would have thought that. But I guess mentions of ‘lost souls on a pilgrimage’ and the ‘rise from the dead’ does give way to that context, with the whole ‘that’s no way to tell a lie’ idea being a flat-out rejection of the religious imagery that sways people to believe in it. Or something? Honestly, I don’t know. I just like the song. Knowing what it’s about doesn’t make me like it any less.