#1410: Big Boi ft. Sam Chris – The Train, Pt. 2 (Sir Lucious Left Foot Saves the Day)

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Well, André 3000 eventually gave us his real debut solo album we were waiting for a few years back. It most likely didn’t turn out the way everyone wanted it to. But it’s now something that exists in the world. I haven’t listened to New Blue Sun, but I’m sure it’s interesting at least. I think I’d have to be in a certain kind of mood or physical space to listen to the whole thing. In the world of respective individual releases by he and Big Boi after the splitting of OutKast in 2006, even though the latter has three albums to his name, I think it’s still Big Boi’s 2010 Sir Lucious Left Foot: The Son of Chico Dusty that’s the best out of the lot of them. I was looking back on some posts for blog maintenance’s sake and saw I gave a whole backstory on my experience with that album in the first Big Boi post I did on here. I did have a good time with it back in those early 2010s. I haven’t listened to it fully in a while. But I have my favourite tracks from there, a few of them I’ve already covered, and ‘The Train, Pt. 2’ is another one.

In name only, the track’s a sequel to “Part One”, which appeared on OutKast’s swansong Idlewild. That saw Big Boi reminiscing on his career up to that point, potentially hinting on leaving the rap game. On ‘Pt. 2’, the ‘train’ theme continues, but here the artist provides a bit of commentary on the music industry, progression in technology, and on rappers constantly faking their wealth on the TV and getting the naive youth to believe in it. “Got them bay-bays believing that bullshit”, is how he puts it. On the choruses, Sam Chris expands on the notion of lying and exaggerating events, singing that these kinds of things happen on a daily basis – a never-ending cycle presumably in the music business – but if no one’s hurts by them and it’s all for a good laugh, then it’s all fine at the day, right? The answer should be no. But it is yes in a way too. A kind of negative action causing a positive reaction? I think it’s the ambivalence about it all that’s the main issue here.

I don’t know who came up with the repeating rhythm guitar line that plays almost throughout, but it’s essentially that element which acts as the foundation beneath everything else that happens in ‘The Train, Pt.2’. Sam Chris delivers the chorus impeccably, I remember being instantly hooked to his vocals, and Big Boi rides the beat with his flows as well as ever, even if it took a little longer to fully digest what he was talking about. What I feel I enjoy most is how Big Boi bounces off Sam Chris during the chorus, I think from the second one onward. “Lying to yourself like it really happened (Really happened)”, “Riding on a never-ending train (Choo choo)”, “Pick a stop (Pick a stop), pick a lie (pick a lie)”. You get the idea. These vocal echoes that create this sense of endless motion on the vocal front. “I think I (I think I, He said, he said, he said) Sometimes I think I love it…” A great part there. Could have ended the album with this song, to be honest, but ‘Back Up Plan’ does do the job in bringing things home. Also, the track’s really 4:43 in length with the remaining time taken by an unrelated samba(?)-inspired interlude, ’cause what’s a hip-hop album without a skit or two?

#1409: Blur – Trailerpark

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Ah, nice, a Blur double-header. You know I was talking about wanting odd moments in music in the last post? Well, it’s nice that another song of the band’s, especially from 13, arrives right after, because that album’s filled with them. One day in either 2015 or ’16, I decided to listen through 13 from front to back, no distractions. I was interning at a music magazine at the time, I could get away with it. And it was there that I had the proper awakening moment. I found… that I actually really enjoyed the whole thing. The first time, a couple years before, I was left confused, feeling that it was a little too long with those random extra interludes, really only liking the singles I knew. The second, I got into a few other deeper cuts. But it was the thorough listen behind the iMac in the office that did the trick. The way I looked at it was, after ‘Coffee & TV’, the album just goes off the deep end, gets stranger as it goes on. If there’s anything that could be labelled as the weirdest song on 13, ‘Trailerpark’ might be the frontrunner.

The song was the first of the 13 songs to be recorded, but wasn’t originally intended to be on the track listing. It was in fact written for the South Park Chef Aid album. It was called ‘South Park’ before the name was changed. But someone on the other end said no to it. Presumably, Rick Rubin. So the band kept it for themselves. As a result, it’s the only song on 13 to be produced by the band without William Orbit. You’d never really know it without searching it up, ’cause it contains the same kind of cut-and-pasting production style Orbit would use to piece almost all the other tracks on the album. The rhythm section during the verses are an obvious loop that you can sort of hear resetting after a few measures. The punk-riff ending, the best part, sounds like it’s been added on from a completely different session. It’s such a left-turn from the rest of the song before, it caught me offguard when I was going through that relisten. Feels like everything’s been constructed piece by piece, and there is a little monster of a number that comes out of the work.

I think we all know 13 for being Damon Albarn’s breakup album and the one where he alludes to drug use a lot. ‘Trailerpark’ combines the two. In a bit of a melodic rambling mantra, the song’s main lines are “I’m a country boy, I got no soul / Don’t sleep at night, the world’s growing old / I lost my girl to the Rolling Stones”. Some exclamations of “Freestyle 45” and angular, woozy guitar breaks by Graham Coxon come in between. He also provides a “solo”, which is essentially fucking around with feedback, during the instrumental break. Oh, and that bluesy keyboard melody throughout that sounds like it’s coming from a tannoy speaker is very cool too. From what I’ve researched, ‘Rolling Stones’ is code for drugs. What kind? Up to your interpretation, I guess. And the rest is self-explanatory, I feel. For lack of a better word, the whole track is a vibe. Comments I’ve seen about it range from it being ‘lo-fi trip hop’, to sounding ‘like a precursor to Gorillaz’, to feeling like ‘walking through a dark empty mall that closed’. They’re all very valid points.

#1408: Blur – Tracy Jacks

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Only four songs from Parklife on here, huh? That makes sense for me. Really, it should be six, but I was going through a period, when I was doing the G section, where I was questioning whether or not I actually liked ‘Girls & Boys’. I do. And I’m a big fan of ‘The Debt Collector’. But it’s too late to change things now. I wouldn’t argue with anyone who says Blur’s 1994 album is their best. It is a definite classic, a touchstone in the Britpop era. It’s not my favourite album of the band’s, though. The compositions are concise, very well-produced and the songwriting’s stellar. But I’ve always felt there’s something very… clean about Parklife. Like, the songs sound a little too perfect, nearly mechanical somehow. It works for the songs I really like and have written about before, but throughout a whole album, I don’t know, seems a little strange for my ears. I’m probably one of the few who prefers The Great Escape because of this, even if it does get dismissingly labelled as Parklife’s sequel.

All that being said, I’ve still got a lot of love for ‘Tracy Jacks’. It’s the second song on Parklife. I’m not sure I cared all that much for it when I went through the album in full the first time in 2013. But Blur were up and about again. The band had done Coachella that year. They’d done Glastonbury in 2009. They played in Hyde Park after the closing ceremony of the 2012 London Olympics. Those performances were on YouTube. ‘Tracy Jacks’ was played at all of them. Had to guess it was quite the popular deeper cut among the fans. And general repeated listens to it over the years made the track more endearing. It’s another of Damon Albarn’s character sketch songs, which he was all over in the mid-’90s, concerning a fellow whose name makes the song’s title. Tracy Jacks leads a somewhat mundane lifestyle. As he feels the end of his days rapidly approaching as he passes the age of 40, he seeks out thrills, but probably goes off the deep end with the biggest act of bulldozing his own house down. There’s maybe a little bit of Tracy Jacks in all of us, but, you know, gotta keep him suppressed because society looks down upon the things he does in the song.

The big thing that gets to me in this one? I think it’s the vocals by Damon Albarn and Graham Coxon. Coxon calls out ‘Tracy Jacks’ repeatedly in the verses, a hook in themselves, with Albarn responding with the character’s situations in each line. And this goes on before the two sing together on the choruses, Coxon taking the higher harmony, coming down on the cathartic “Just so overrated” line before rinsing and repeating. I like the sort of marching rhythm the track takes on during those sections too. Thinking about it further, Graham Coxon might just be the main man throughout the whole thing. Everything from the guitar chords during the verses, the lines he’s pulling off during the choruses, the alternating between the two during the outro, the echoing siren-like wails during the break. They’re all like little melodic trips in themselves, they really burrow themselves into the noggin. After the excitement ad hype ‘Girls & Boys’ starts everything off with, it’s nice that ‘Tracy Jacks’ lets things ride out a little. Contains the same appeal, but just a little smoother.

#1407: Feeder – Tracing Lines

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Back in 2009 or so, I really got into the habit of adding song lyrics onto websites. Clearly, this was a 14-year-old who knew what to do with his time. One website that I used very, very regularly was letssingit.com Still got my account on there and everything. I went under the name ‘Jammerz’ and, as you can see through this archived link from September 2010, I was the moderator for Feeder’s page on there. I’m very sure the lyrics you see for ‘Tracing Lines’ everywhere now are based on those I originally typed out on LetsSingIt on August 17th 2009. The same day I added the band’s most recent album then, Silent Cry. Got one lyric wrong though. “She’s my direction, down to the south” is very clearly, “Changed my direction, turned to the south.” But the former was what I heard at the time. And that’s how I came to know the song. Writing the lyrics while simultaneously watching its music video via YouTube.

‘Tracing Lines’ took me for a bit of a surprise when I first heard it. Silent Cry, its parent album, was released in 2008. The video for its first single ‘We Are the People’ was maybe played once or twice – that I saw – on TV. I’m not sure I liked it. And the very limited coverage around the album at the time probably made me think Feeder weren’t what they used to be. But fast-forward to 2009, I find ‘Tracing Lines’, and it sounded like one of those classic Feeder songs that could have been included on their ’06 Singles compilation. It made me think why the label or whoever didn’t release this as the “comeback” single instead. Guitarist and songwriter Grant Nicholas can write really good power pop tunes whenever he wants, and ‘Tracing Lines’ comes under that group. Catchy from the get-go with the easy chord progression. Taka Hirose and Mark Richardson respectively join in with the bass guitar and drums alongside the keyboard/guitar lick. An easy-to-follow melody with a standard song structure, the chorus being the usual standout moment. It’s all there, all very nicely executed.

When it comes to what the song’s about, I’ve never stopped to think it through. Even if I did transcribe the words all them years ago, it was more so I could just sing along. But looking at them now and hearing the track, I think ‘Tracing Lines’ is generally about travelling, especially from the point of view of a man in a rock band like Grant Nicholas was and is. He had a dream/vision of being in a band when he was younger, changed his direction in life to follow that path, and now he finds himself going from here to there and back again as he tours and does the things a working musician has to do. He wishes he could take a rest, but he loves what he does and finds new ways to bring enthusiasm into it. The tracing lines part, I think, comes from a notion that we’re all kind of leaving our own footprints behind wherever we go, wherever we travel, but we don’t necessarily see them. In Nicholas’s case, his lines will usually intersect as he goes back to a place he may have been to years before and do so on much more frequent basis than your average person you see on the street. So that’s my take. I hope you enjoy the song too.

#1406: Big Thief – The Toy

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For some reason, my take on Big Thief’s ‘Shoulders’ is growing to be one of the more popular posts on the blog. I login to the account, check out the stats, and on a pretty regular occurrence the post will be there in the “Most Viewed” when the time range is set to ‘Last 7 Days’. I don’t know how or where it’s being shared. But I guess it’s striking a chord with people. Just like ‘Shoulders’, today’s subject, ‘The Toy’, can also be found on Big Thief’s fourth album Two Hands, the second of two LPs they released in 2019. I was heavily unemployed that year. Big Thief made things feel somewhat better. U.F.O.F. was out in May. Don’t know how anyone else feels, but that’s still my favourite Big Thief album now. To everyone’s surprise, Two Hands was then announced in August, for release on October 11. So I waited for that date, in between filling countless job applications and feeling pretty miserable.

The day came. Went to Spotify, played that thang through. ‘The Toy’ was an instant highlight, I really liked it. Coming after the single ‘Forgotten Eyes’, it brings the energy levels down tremendously, going more for a contemplative route with a cradling, waltz tempo. On Spotify, out of the album’s first five songs, ‘The Toy’ has the second least plays. Not one that the consensus goes back to. I do suppose once you’ve heard the first verse and the “Toy in my hand is real” chorus, you’ve more or less heard the rest of the song. But it’s the repetitive nature of the song that really attracted me, plus the chord changes and guitar lines that occur throughout behind Adrianne Lenker’s up-close-and-personal vocal and Buck Meek’s short harmonies. Also, the outro after the final chorus, just the icing on the cake. Feels good to just sit and bask in the instrumental until it sizzles out the way it does. I think I hear someone giggle on the right at about 4:08 as the guitars ring out. Don’t know what was going on in that studio to cause such a reaction. Maybe it was the fact they got the take they needed. I’m glad it was left in.

I wish I could find the interview/write-up/story where it was said, but I’m sure that on it I read that the ‘toy’ in the song’s lyrics was referring to a gun. And after writing that sentence, I have found it might have actually been this one. But I think the ‘toy’ changes with each reiteration of the chorus, from a sex toy in the first, to a gun in the second, to an actual child’s play toy in the third and then…. I don’t know, maybe the world in the president’s hands in the fourth? Maybe a reach. But you read between the lines, and you’ll get what I mean. So instead of thinking about Lenker singing about a weapon in her hand, which I very much did even while typing this post up, I’m now thinking each verse is written from a different perspective, separate characters with these physical and potentially metaphorical items in their possession. Whatever their state of being, these ‘toys’ are real, they have an affect on people’s lives. They’re important. I think that’s what Lenker’s getting at. Like the song, like it a lot.