#1463: Blur – Villa Rosie

It seems 2016 was the year that I came to properly understood Blur’s Modern Life Is Rubbish. On the 3rd April that year, two days before I turned 21, I spent a couple hours in the afternoon going through its 2012 Special Edition issue. I already had this in my iTunes library, but the files all had a volume normalisation thing going on, so all the songs sounded equally quiet with a lot of loss in the dynamics. Must have initially downloaded it from the wrong kinds of places. But with that normalisation turned off on Spotify, a big difference was noticeable. Before that “new” listen, I was only into a few songs like ‘Chemical World’, ‘Star Shaped’… ‘Sunday Sunday’. But in this new light, ‘Pressure on Julian’ sounded brilliant – and it’s a great song you naysayers, the production of ‘Miss America’ felt like a huge pillow I could sink into, ‘Oily Water’ was cosmic, mind-warping. Each deep cut could get their own re-evaluation. But the one song that grew highest in my estimation was the 11th track, ‘Villa Rosie’. What I used to flimsily disregard as a passing song that was near the album’s end became one that, in my eyes, probably could have been a single in its time. The track was repeated on several separate occasions throughout 2016, it was my new favourite song for a while.

But why? “Why?” You’re asking. Damn, I don’t want to do a whole step-by-step of each section of the song. But I like the climbing build-up of the intro that falls into the slamming chords and incessant thrashing of cymbals, which then transitions into one of Graham Coxon’s most unique guitar riffs.. A “perverso riff”, in his own words. You watch that clip I’ve just linked and see how his fingers move over the fretboard to gets those licks off and carry out the chord progressions. It looks almost unnatural. The riff shouldn’t work, but it does in context of the song, and very well too, I should add. The “OOH-HOO” vocals that the riff then climaxes with, they’re a little funny, a little obnoxious even, but I like ’em, I think those are the feelings they’re going for, anyway. While Damon Albarn’s singing the verses, you can hear what seems to be a vocal overdub of him whispering the lyrics over the top. Sometimes it’s all I can focus on. I guess it’s meant to add a sense of mystique or something. And the verses then lead into what might be one of Blur’s most under-the-radar singalong choruses that they’ve ever put to tape, with harmonies all over the shop. There’s that little “ding-dong” that occurs after each “Ooh-hoo” in the short break following the second chorus. Coxon’s guitar solo brings everything home. The way the track ends with the sudden stop and the slow picking of the last chord… Man, this is such a tune. And you won’t find any footage of a young Blur playing it live, because they never did until they started to in 2023, the weirdos.

If you want to know what the song’s about, look no further than this link. Might have to scroll your way down or ‘Ctrl + F ‘Villa Rosie’, depending on how you like to surf the net. But if you’re feeling lazy, ‘Villa Rosie’ is about a fictional ‘watering hole / drinking den’ of the same name where the lads – not the members of Blur, just in general – go to shoot the shit after work. Don’t even really think I have to analyse the lyrics all that much, you get the idea of what’s going on. I think the most telling line in the whole song is ‘All losers come to Villa Rosie every night’, because up to that point I get the feeling that Villa Rosie is the place to be by the way Albarn implores listeners to ‘form a queue’ there, saying how it promises ‘a sweeter life’ – which for the longest time I thought was ‘a sweet delight’, I kind of like that better. So really, it’s a bit of a commentary on the types of people who go to those types of people who go to those kinds of gentlemen’s clubs who Albarn apparently holds a little disdain for. Nevertheless, it’s a lot of fun to be had while listening to the song. Just the general upbeat nature of it and all those little musical nuggets in between for the ears to latch on to. Modern Life…, it’s my favourite of the three “Life” albums by Blur in that Britpop era, and ‘Villa Rosie’ is one of the biggest reasons for that preference.

#1462: Arctic Monkeys – The View from the Afternoon

You might not be able to believe that this will be the first time I’ve covered a song from Arctic Monkeys’ debut album. I’ve written about ‘Fake Tales of San Francisco’ and ‘From the Ritz to the Rubble’ in the past, but those were both concerning the versions on the Five Minutes with Arctic Monkeys EP. Not saying that I’m an OG fan who was downloading songs from MySpace back in the day, but I did hear those Beneath the Boardwalk demos before Whatever People… was released in January 2006. And when the album arrived, a lot of the songs, to me, were just sanitised versions of them. The edge that was once there had now been taken out. A roundabout way of saying I liked the demos more. I’ve always liked the live take they did for the ‘I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor’ music video more than how the studio take came out too. It somehow felt too produced, which is funny ’cause the album’s obviously the least produced out of all the work they’ve done.

‘The View from the Afternoon’ wasn’t on that collection of demos, though. I heard the song first via its music video, which was on repeat on MTV2 in 2006 because it was the new one by the Arctic Monkeys. The track was originally going to be the third single from Whatever People…, but the band had announced the Who the Fuck Are Arctic Monkeys? EP just two months after the album’s release. ‘The View…’ was to be included as the leading track on that EP, so the video was made to prepare the people for that rather than what would be an A-side and maybe a couple B-sides. In the video, a young man plays the drums to the song in the middle of a council estate from what looks like morning to night, his hands bleeding in the process, until he’s eventually knocked out by a guy with a baseball bat. We don’t see the impact, but you can see that’s what’s about to happen. This video made me really want to get into playing the drums. Because I also saw the visual first, I didn’t know how the song properly ended until my sister borrowed a copy of Whatever People… from a school friend of hers, ’cause the song cuts out just as the baseball bat’s about to hit the kid’s head. It’s a very nice chord the song ends on, gotta say.

The whole theme of the album is a night out in Sheffield, from perspectives of the people involved to the outsiders looking in at all the chaos. ‘The View from the Afternoon’ is exactly what it’s about in the title. It’s about the people looking forward to the night out, thinking about the endless possibilities a few hours before everything kicks off. The track opens with the line “Anticipation has a habit to set you up for disappointment,” which everyone comments on how clever it is that Alex Turner’s also referencing the hype around the ban. That isn’t the entire lyric, though, so is he really? He probably is. I sometimes thought people were reading too much into it. But yeah, Turner writes from the point of view of someone listing the things they want to see while out on the town. Girls in fancy dress, gambling in the fruit machine, the works. A particular action that’s focused upon in the lyrics is drunk texting a girl you’re interested in, which the band urge the narrator to bear in mind. We have a strong album opener on our hands. The four bandmembers are firing on all cylinders. Maybe there’s a reason why the music video places a focus on the drumming, because Matt Helders is going crazy on ’em. Lot of sixteenths on the hi-hats and frenetic drum fills. Turner and Jamie Cook play very quickly on their guitars, their highlight probably being the part where the song dies down and the two of them play alternating chords that switch from left to right and back again in the headphones. Former bass guitarist Andy Nicholson follows the chord progression of the rhythm guitar, but he does it very well, rounds off that low end. So maybe Whatever People… isn’t my favourite Arctic Monkeys album, but I can’t say it doesn’t get off to a good start.

#1461: The Velvet Underground – Venus in Furs

According to my Spotify data, I listened to The Velvet Underground & Nico, first time ever, on 20th October 2012. That was near the beginning of a period in time when I was really trying to check out what was considered to be history’s classic albums, using besteveralbums.com as a guide. Rate Your Music must have been around. I’m not sure Album of the Year was a thing. Best Ever Albums came to me in a Google search, and it’s been serving me well since then. TVU&N was pretty highly ranked in that best ever albums chart at the time, from what I can remember. And again from the data, it seemed I liked the album a lot, because I went through it once more in December 2012, listened to it in patches through 2013 and ’14 too. I gained my favourite tracks from the record through those listens. I’ve previously written about ‘Sunday Morning’ and ‘There She Goes Again’, but ‘Femme Fatale’ and ‘All Tomorrow’s Parties’ gets double thumbs from me too. Gained more of an appreciation for those two along the way. But to round off the TVU&N coverage and The Velvet Underground as a band on the blog is the album’s fourth track – today’s subject – ‘Venus in Furs’, which I’m sure I got into on the second listen at most.

Every song on TVU&N had a Wikipedia article back in those days. They still do now. And I like to do my research about any music I end up listening to. So I clicked on the link for ‘Venus in Furs’. The page mentioned how the lyrics contain themes concerning BDSM, and lo and behold, while going through the song, I found that to be very true. Lou Reed sings about the dark mistress figure dressed in “shiny, shiny leather” who tends to their subject’s sadistic pleasures with their whip and belt. And I’m thinking, in 1967, surely no one else had even dared to write a song like it. That was the year which saw the Summer of Love. But with TVU&N, The Velvet Underground showed the dark, seedy side of society that was still lurking in the shadows while everyone was caught up in peace and free love. ‘Venus in Furs’, to me, sounded like a bit of a statement in that regard. I’ve always had a scene in my mind of the sadist crawling through a desert towards the mistress described in the song, who just happens to be giant in size. A bit like the lady in the ‘Go with the Flow’ video by Queens of the Stone Age. It’s all in slow motion too. I don’t know. To me, this song has always sounded like dry heat. I see someone sweating, looking for water when I hear this song. And I guess here, the sadist is very thirsty in their own unique way.

“Boom, chk, boom boom, chk, boom boom, chk,” and so on and so forth. That was meant to be an onomatopoeic rendition of the song’s rhythm. I like it. Very simplistic and tribal-like, very appropriate for the song’s subject matter. Makes the scene described within sound like a ritual of some kind. With Lou Reed on guitar, other guitarist Sterling Morrison handles the bass and plays following Mo Tucker’s simple drum pattern. Puts an emphasis on those bass drum strikes. Reed’s guitar has strings that are all tuned to one note, a style of tuning known as ‘Ostrich tuning’. Reed came up with the name. It sounds cool, for sure. I think the instrument in the song that steals the show is the electric viola, played throughout, by John Cale. The loudest instrument in the mix, it drones during the verses, occasionally swooping upwards sharply – Is that a glissando? I don’t know my theory. Cale will play a little solo of some sorts in the small instrumental breaks that occur. The viola feels really effective though, when the song changes key when it gets to the choruses. The viola’s droning on that one note during the verses, which are slowgoing enough as it is, that when Cale shifts to another note for the first time a minute-and-a-half in, it feels like a massive shift has happened in the song’s proceedings. It’s awesome. There should be more Velvet Underground songs on this site. What are there, six? Too little. In another universe, it’s much different.

#1460: Kings of Leon – Velvet Snow

And so we’ve reached the final time a Kings of Leon song will be mentioned in this long, long list. You can click on the ‘kings of leon’ tag below and see how far my coverage of the group goes back. To get things out of the way, you’ll probably notice that any of their material from Only by the Night onwards is absent. Stuff from that album on the blog is scarce in itself. I am one of those people who think that the band weren’t the same from ‘Sex on Fire’ to the present, I just don’t go out of my way to loudly voice my opinion on the matter because nobody cares. There’s nothing to be gained by saying “I miss when Kings of Leon made this type of music,” ’cause it just is what it is now. I say that. I might have said that exactly in a prior post, but I’ve learned not to care so much now. Those first three albums though, I mean, they were pretty good, weren’t they? Youth & Young Manhood, Aha Shake Heartbreak, Because of the Times. That’s a trilogy right there. I can go down as saying Aha Shake… is my favourite out of them. The fact that I covered more songs from it than their other albums is probably a tell.

I got Aha Shake… as a gift for Christmas in 2008. It’s a story I told before. At that time, I had a YouTube channel where all I did was upload albums and songs at a time when copyright laws weren’t so stringent. That’s another thing I must have referred to in the past. Aha Shake… was one of the albums I uploaded on there, I think in four parts ’cause of the 10-minute limit YouTube used to have, so I got to know the deeper cuts from the album just through having to listen to them over and over again. I’m sure I went through the LP on iTunes or something too. Depending on what version of the album you have, ‘Velvet Snow’ is the penultimate or third-last track on Aha Shake…, the last proper burst of energy the band provide on the whole record before things slow down on following tracks ‘Rememo’ and ‘Where Nobody Knows’. It doesn’t give you any time to prepare for how it starts too. Just comes straight out of the gate with its rockabilly tempo and a guitar riff barking away on the left-hand side. It’s only made up of three notes, but the way it’s played and how it sounds, you remember it very easily.

Not saying the album has a concept or anything, but thinking about the songs on Aha Shake…, a lot of them appear to be about women. Women Caleb Followill likes, others not so much. I was thinking ‘Velvet Snow’ was the former. He was impressed by the way this girl’s getting down on a dancefloor. I thought ‘velvet snow’ referred to a graceful way of walking. But being ‘stuck in it’ doesn’t sound too good. And he subliminally refers to her as a ‘whore’ and a ‘ho’ by really punctuating the syllables in ‘snow’ and ‘floor’. Then he mentions drowning this person in the very last verse. Yeah, I don’t think Followill likes this particular character at all. But the music does a good job of hiding the negativity. Feels like a party should be going on with this playing in the background. Matthew Followill’s guitar solo in the instrumental break is a riot. There’s a style of music it reminds me of, want to say based around Latin-America for some reason. The chords and how they descend reminds me of something in that area. And I like how the intensity’s brought down for the last verse and those oohing harmonies are brought to add a sense of resolution. It’s a rather modest ending compared to how the song initially starts, I appreciate the dynamic. So thanks, Kings of Leon, for all the music. Keep doing your thing. I have my favourites. I’ll carry on listening to them.

#1459: Pixies – Velouria

My personal knowledge of ‘Velouria’ by Pixies goes back a while. Again, it’s the setting of being a kid in front of the television, watching MTV2 at some hour during the day, and being exposed to the song’s video when it came up on the screen. I’ll say it was about 2005 time, that sounds about right. Pixies were a band that I’d sort of known about for a year by then. A couple of their songs played on this Internet radio service provided by a company called Launch, or LaunchCast, which I think eventually got bought out by Yahoo! I believe ‘Build High’ (the demo) and ‘Here Comes Your Man’ were the first two Pixies songs I ever heard because of it. But the video for ‘Velouria’ was most likely the first time I’d seen the four guys. Or three guys and one lady if you want to be pedantic about it. It’s 17 seconds of the bandmembers stumbling among a bunch of massive rocks stretched out for the song’s length. They weren’t fans of making music videos. Ten-year-old me liked the song there and then. I tried to download the song online. All I could find was Weezer’s cover. I got my hands on the original, eventually.

The track was released as the first single from the band’s third studio album Bossanova. That’s an album I’ve yet to listen to in full, even though I should, knowing the music I’m into. Because the depth of attachment I have to the song doesn’t go deeper than “I heard the song once as a child and really liked it,” I don’t think I’ll be gushing over it quite as much as I might have done for other songs in the past. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have any admiration for it of any kind. Black Francis/Frank Black said he didn’t like making music video ’cause “you want your imagination, you know?” And my imagination does go running when ‘Velouria’ comes on. I envision wide open spaces, panning shots of vast landscapes. Might be down to the big-sounding guitars. Might be down to how Francis sounds like he’s singing from an entirely different plane of existence. There’s also that theremin that comes in at various points, makes things sound a little spacey, which from what I’ve read is a bit of a theme running through Bossanova. I’ll get to that album one day. I might have already by the time you read this.

I’m looking through Wikipedia as I type, seeking out some background info for myself ’cause I’m really learning about it just as much as you are. According to it, we’ll say it’s based off a source even though it’s not cited, ‘Velouria’ was written as a love song based on an experience Black Francis had “with a girl associated with the Rosicrucians of Northern California.” Sounds like a strange organisation that I’m not going to look further into. I hear “love song” in ‘Velouria’. I think it’s obvious in the lyrics. The track is one of devotion to the ‘Velouria’ character, who Francis sings about wanting to hold hands with and travel through space and time. A bit of an “us against the world” thing going on, but with some abstractness to it so the schmaltziness isn’t rammed into your ears. “How does lemur skin reflect the sea?” It is a good question. The worship of Velouria culminates with Kim Deal sing-spelling out her name in the track’s final moments, surely a nod to Patti Smith’s ‘Gloria’, which – I don’t know about you – is my favourite part. Puts the cherry on top, as they say.