#1402: Radiohead – The Tourist

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Ah, well, here’s another “last song” type deal again. As we slowly but surely get to the end of this series, Z and the numerals really aren’t that far away, I shouldn’t be surprised that these kinds of posts will occur more frequently. I wasn’t expecting four of them to happen on the bounce. But it’s all good. Here’s ‘The Tourist’, the last song on Radiohead’s OK Computer, the last song from that album I’ll be writing about on here. I don’t think there’s much else on a critical level about that record that I could say that hasn’t been stated already. Is it my favourite Radiohead album? I mean, it’s up there. Despite its arguable flaws, I rally moreso for Hail to the Thief. But I enjoy OK Computer a lot. Who knew an album wrapped around a theme of paranoia concerning the rapid development of technology in the late ’90s could be so thrilling to listen to? I didn’t get round to hearing the full album until 2010, years removed from its original 1997 release. It didn’t sound dated then. It still doesn’t sound dated today.

From ‘Electioneering’ onwards, the second half of OK Computer decreases in tempo with each passing track. Everything is brought to a close with ‘The Tourist’, the slowest song, I’m sure, on the whole album, delivered in a steady 3/4 time. I had the same experience with it that I had with ‘Let Down’ on my first listen-through. The verses of ‘The Tourist’ were going along at their relaxed pace, Thom Yorke melodically wailing, harmonising with himself and elongating notes that reverberated into the distance. All was just fine. But then the “Hey, man, slow down” chorus came in, and I had a strong, strong feeling that I’d heard it somewhere years before. The chugging guitars then entered the frame, and I was certain this was a song I knew already. I’m very sure it was used in an advert for something in the very early 2000s. For what brand is long-forgotten. But here was that song from that advert, and I wasn’t even purposefully looking for it. It’s always nice when those kinds of instances happen.

Once I had the album, I obviously had to go look up some facts about the songs on there. Do my due research. When it comes to ‘The Tourist’, the big thing I remember finding out was that it was written by lead guitarist Jonny Greenwood. I never knew if ‘written’ just referred to the music, but a quote from Thom Yorke recalls how Greenwood wrote it in disdain for American tourists who were frantically working around some spots in France. The “Hey, man/idiot, slow down” refrains were very literal. So I guess it was both music and lyrics. And in another way, it loops the album around with the chorus lyrics preceding the car crash that happens in first track ‘Airbag’. It was the last song to be included on the album, and it was after its inclusion that Thom Yorke stopped waking up early in the mornings a nervous wreck because OK Computer now had its resolution. What better way to finish it than with a ‘ding’ of a bell, like a microwave when the time’s run out. Got to give a lot of love for a very hot album.

#1401: Ween – Touch My Tooter

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Here’s the last song from Ween’s Pure Guava that I’ll be writing about. ‘Touch My Tooter’. ‘Don’t Get 2 Close (2 My Fantasy)’ would have had a post of its own, for sure, but I wasn’t listening to Ween like that in 2014 or whenever I was covering songs on my phone that began with the letter ‘D’. So that leaves just three Pure Guava songs on this blog. It’s not my favourite Ween album. It and The Pod were more or less recorded at the same time, and really all of …Guava sounds like it’d fit on its predecessor. There’s a ‘Pod Part 2’ feeling I can’t help but associate with it. The drum-machine rhythms on …Guava are beefier and busier, I appreciate it for that at the least. I’ve just never been able to really get into it. And that’s okay, I don’t think I need to force these kinds of things. The four songs on there I like, I like a lot. When it comes to ‘…Tooter’, I dig the music, but I can’t help but smile when listening to it. Its delivery is funny as hell.

A lot of Ween fans will agree that the band’s three albums are top, top stuff. But whenever material from those albums are performed live, they’re usually taken to another level in terms of sound and performance. ‘Touch My Tooter’ was a number the band would do on the road quite regularly back in the day, the performance of it (below) in their iconic Live in Chicago 2003 shows being a notable exhibit of how it was done. And I’m sure I saw that before I got to the rawer studio version. Live, it’s got this rocking, stomping feel. A lot of edge. I think helped by the backing of an actual rhythm section. The initial album version is much different. It’s quicker in tempo. The drum machine couldn’t sound more synthetic. Dean Ween’s guitar’s got this crunch in tone, in a real lo-fi kind of way. Gene Ween is singing in a way that I find hard to describe, but you can tell he’s really feeling it. I like both live and studio versions just ’cause they’re so much on other ends of the spectrum.

I did use to think that this song was about Gener having an extreme crush on a lady. She walks into the room, he gets all giddy and wishes to have some kind of sexual relation with her. I think it’s dawned on me that it may be the complete opposite in sentiment. Gener addresses his ‘buggy’, a affectionate nickname for Deaner if you’re into your Ween lore, pretty much ‘buddy’, asking him why the arrival of this girl makes him feel like shit inside. Gener doesn’t like this girl, he doesn’t like the way she dances, he doesn’t like the way she thinks everything is cool between the two of them. So in telling her to ‘touch [his] tooter’, he’s really telling her to kiss his ass. More of a ‘fuck you’ song than a ‘want to fuck you’ song. A lot of Ween songs are based on personal experiences, I don’t think ‘Touch My Tooter’ is separate from that category. This realization’s got me thinking about the song a little differently now. There’s much more behind it than meets the eye. I’ll take it all day. A big album highlight for me.

#1400: Klaxons – Totem on the Timeline

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There I was pouring my heart out a couple days ago about the last ever post by a band on the blog, but had I known that the same thing would be happening for Klaxons right after, I probably wouldn’t have bothered. Yeah, it’s the last time you’ll see Klaxons on here too. But including today’s song, I only wrote about four of the group’s tracks. I don’t have as close a personal feeling towards them. But Klaxons were a big thing in their time. It’s something I must have said in the other Klaxons posts, but 2007, that was their year. They were the figureheads of the “new rave” scene that was happening. I remember NME being all over that, highlighting bands like Hadouken!, New Young Pony Club, CSS… and others. I wonder how they’re all doing. Klaxons’ debut Myths of the Near Future was the album everyone was waiting for, myself included, and before it was officially released, NME had the album as an exclusive on their website. I don’t think I ever said anything about that before, but the link is proof. Just have to select “Just albums” and click next, you’ll see ‘Klaxons’ eventually.

And that’s how I got to know ‘Totem on the Timeline’. By the time the album exclusive was up, I was well aware of tunes like ‘Atlantis to Interzone’, ‘Golden Skans’, and ‘Magick’. They’d all been singles in the months prior. Oh, ‘Gravity’s Rainbow’ too. The album begins with ‘Two Receivers’, which is all right, a nice start to everything. But ‘Totem…’ was the first album track that I really got into. The tune has a remarkably simple structure. The second verse is the same as the first, and otherwise it’s all chorus bar a bass guitar-driven instrumental section. Lyrically, it’s a bit of a surreal one. Apart from the refrains where the three vocalists sing about being in Club 18-30 and meeting a number of historical figures, whatever else they’re singing about is anyone’s guess. I don’t mind those kinds of songs. You know those ones that maybe go for more of a feel rather than relying on the substance. I can’t hate it. Maybe others would feel differently.

I guess what I like most about the song is it just sounds like all four members, raw, in a room playing it in one run-through. Maybe there’s a vocal overdub, probably that falsetto one, but I think that would be it. Probably the most straight-up rock tune on the first half of the album, with a little keyboard on top. I dig the ascending / descending guitar riff that the vocal melody almost follows too. Now, like I said earlier, because of the way ‘Totem…”s structured, once you’ve heard the first verse and chorus, you’ve more or less heard the rest of the track. To anyone who likes a little variety in their favourite songs, I’m just saying. But this is my blog. I can take a dense song from time to time. And other times, a repetitive number will do the trick. ‘Totem…’ ticks that box for me. So, thanks Klaxons. 2007 was definitely a time to be alive. Never did get round to listening to their second or third albums. I should get to them one of these days.

#1399: Dananananaykroyd – Totally Bone

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Well, this is it. The end of the road. The last time I’ll be talking about anything by Dananananaykroyd on here. Won’t have to count how many na’s are in the name when I’m typing the name. It’s all over. I have the honour of writing about a song of theirs in the first few weeks of this blog’s existence when it wasn’t even on WordPress but on Blogspot instead. This may have happened for another artist on here already, in terms of a solid “last ever post”. But I guess I’m making a bigger deal out of this because I hope more people listen to Dananananaykroyd, or are listening to them, maybe after they read my posts or whatever. I’m not sure I have that much of an influence on people’s tastes. But I like their music, and not a lot of people know about them. So spread the word. They made two – what I consider to be – banger albums and dipped. Their self-dubbed “fight pop” music was like nothing anyone else was making in their time.

‘Totally Bone’ is on the band’s first album, Hey Everyone!, released back in 2009. This was a song I really got to know when it came up on shuffle in my iTunes library, in the days when I could have my own personal soundtrack over whatever FIFA game I was playing at the same time. A third of the songs on Hey Everyone! have lyrics written by the band’s original singer and lyricist, Giles Bailey. ‘Totally Bone’ is of them. Bailey left the group a while before the album’s release. He was replaced by Calum Gunn and John Baillie Jnr, the former taking the lead vocal on all of Bailey’s songs when Hey Everyone! eventually came around. ‘Totally Bone’ was released as the band’s first ever single in 2006, though. If you’re wondering how Bailey sounded within the group, well, here he is singing the tune in that original release. In the context of Hey Everyone!, ‘Totally Bone’ follows the “radio friendly pop tune” of ‘Black Wax’, I think in a very calculated move. There’s something very celebratory and joyous sounding about ‘Black Wax’, while ‘Totally Bone’ sounds like someone at the breaking point of rage. It’s just the music that makes it sound that way.

I think ‘Totally Bone’ is about a thing that Gunn and Baillie Jnr cover in their own way with ‘Infinity Milk’. That thing being sex. Both songs look at the anxiety in the lead-up to it and the confidence found after discovering the act can be done, and not too badly either. But again, while the music behind Gunn and Baillie Jnr’s words in ‘Infinity…’ make the discovery sound like this epic, momentous occasion, I think Bailey’s rather graphic evocations of dismembering flesh and cutting off skins in ‘Totally Bone’ influenced the music to go in a different direction. Though it could have been vice-versa. A lot of guitar riffage going on throughout this tune. David Roy on the right with Duncan Robertson on the left, both guitarists playing licks interweaving with each other. That constant chord progression of D to E is a hook in itself. But my favourite parts are the intense instrumental breaks after the “We can totally bone” shouts. It’s those chords blasts alternating with the palm muted strums, small tension builds and quick releases that contain so much energy in their delivery. And Calum Gunn sounds like he has a mental breakdown that intensifies as the song goes on. “Intense” is how I would describe this entire track. Could be too much for some, but I enjoy it a bunch. Rather suitable that the ‘Kroyd’s first single is the last song I talk about. Rounds things up very nicely. Can’t find any good footage of them playing the song live.

#1398: Super Furry Animals – Torra Fy Ngwallt Yn Hir

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According to Spotify, Super Furry Animals’ ‘Torra Fy Ngwallt Yn Hir’ was my tenth most played song on the platform in 2018. That sounds about right. I wouldn’t know the numbers exactly, but I do remember listening to that one a lot that year, for sure. It was then that I was in my first job out of university. I was working in a music studio, in a position that didn’t require a lot of supervision, and a lot of time was spent listening to artists’ discographies in the large gaps between having actual tasks to do. I went through SFA’s over a week or something. Radiator, being the band’s second album, was the second in the list. Even though that particular record had been in my personal iTunes library since about 2014, it was during that relisten that my ears pricked up when ‘Torra…’ was playing out of the speakers. So there you go. Sometimes you leave an album alone, you come back to it years later, and a song on there you never thought twice about becomes one of your favourites.

Super Furry Animals are a band from Wales, a country part of the United Kingdom. The people of Wales do speak English, but they take pride in their native Welsh language too. This is a roundabout way of getting to the point that ‘Torra Fy Ngwallt Yn Hir’ is sung completely in Welsh, if you were confused when laying your eyes on the song’s title. Translated, it means ‘Cut My Hair Long’, and the entire track is a request by its narrator to a pair of magic scissors so their long hair covers their ears, eyelashes, goes “right down to [their] arse”, and is in a state to the point that people refuse to sit next to the narrator on the bus. Again, it’s not like I know all of this off the dome, this website helped. The song’s just under two minutes in length, but it gets the job done. And it’s a special one in a way. Before making their Welsh language-only record, Mwng, in 2000, ‘Torra…’ was the only track on the band’s first three albums to be sung entirely in their native tongue.

On Radiator, ‘Torra…’ follows another sub-two minute track in the form of ‘Chupacabras’, a punkier composition and a bit of freak-out compared to the poppier, melodic route that ‘Torra…’ goes down. It’s cool to have such a whiplash in moods provided by the two numbers. Even if I can’t properly sing along to ‘Torra…’, failing in getting the pronunciation down and so forth, it doesn’t stop me from at least trying. One thing I like a lot about the track is that it doesn’t appear to have a chorus of any kind. It’s three repeats of the verse structure, with some variations in the lyrics, until it eventually gets to the “Siswrn!” bridge where the melody changes. But even then, that repeats itself a few times before going back to the verse again. And then when that verse is done, the final line is hammered home before the song burns out in some ascending synth swoops. It’s a song where repetition is key. Gets into your head much easier that way.