Monthly Archives: July 2015

My iPod #547: The Who – How Many Friends

Leave a reply

Afraid of turning thirty and becoming irrelevant in the music business, Pete Townshend expressed the personal issues he was going through in his songwriting. The material written resulted in The Who by Numbers, The Who’s seventh album released in 1975, which marked a return to the straightforward studio album format after their second rock opera of Quadrophenia in 1973.

“How Many Friends” is the penultimate track, and is arguably the one in which Townshend’s insecurities are laid bare. It is something of a biography, with Townshend recalling moments of being hit on by a guy, falling in a love with a lady at the cinema, and signing a contract for the first time. However, all of these times bring up the issue on whether he is just being used, leaving him questioning who he can really trust and whether he has true friends he can really depend on and will take him for the person he is. Its message struck a chord with Keith Moon, who is said to have cried and hugged Townshend after hearing the song’s demo for the first time.

Once again the band provide a brilliant performance, but what really gives the song its delicate touch is the lush piano courtesy of the late Nick Hopkins, who fills the slot as the ‘rhythm guitar’ while Townshend delivers what is essentially a four-minute solo in the left channel. It is maybe one of the songs by The Who where the rhythm section aren’t the musical highlights. Of course you can’t disregard the playing of John Entwistle and Keith Moon completely, they very much do their job greatly, but Daltrey’s majestic vocals with Hopkins’ piano and Townshend’s intense guitar work reinforce the track’s sad energy. A tear will be shed.

My iPod #546: They Might Be Giants – Hovering Sombrero

Leave a reply

“Hovering Sombrero” is a song about the saddening reminder that time flies; before you know it, the things you had grown accustomed to when growing up will all be replaced and you will only have the memories to remember them by. John Linnell sings of a sombrero that continues to ‘hover on’ as the seconds, years, and minutes roll by. Obviously it’s not a literal wide-brimmed hat of Mexico; that would have to float back down to the ground some time. I do have the idea that the ‘hovering sombrero’ is actually the Solar System. It looks a bit like a sombrero if you really think about it, and in line of the song I think it makes a bit of sense.

The seventh offering on the band’s eighth album contains standard rock instrumentation consisting of acoustic and electric guitars, the rhythm section, and a keyboard that makes an appearance here and there. Linnell’s single-tracked vocal guides you through the track; he also provides an overlapping ‘no/don’t’ backing vocal that stretches throughout various lines. It is quite beautiful in its simplicity, but you think things are just about to get started it is already the end of the song. Another great gem within their discography.

My iPod #545: John Linnell – House of Mayors

Leave a reply

“House of Mayors” is the title track from the second solo EP of They Might Be Giants’ John Linnell. Consisting of ten tracks it is something of an experimental piece of work; the majority of tracks are instrumentals named after former mayors of New York City. “House of Mayors” is very much the musical centrepiece –  spread throughout the EP are three short instrumentals that borrow some of the melody from the song – and the full thing is saved until the very last track.

Unlike his full solo debut album that would be released three years later in ’99, “House of Mayors” is very much a DIY project. All instruments present on the song are played by Linnell and the weird thing is I think, apart from the guitar, everything else is played on the keyboard. There’s a very heartwarming and earnest feel exuded by the minimal production and twinkling keyboard lines as John Linnell describes the scene at a fictional house of mayors where various political things are occurring. The subject matter doesn’t sound all that special, but the songwriter’s knack for great melodies and music make it one of the most comfortable listens in the vast catalogue of They Might Be Giants related material.

My iPod #544: The Futureheads – Hounds of Love

2 Replies


It took a while for me to listen to the original “Hounds of Love” as recorded by Kate Bush in 1985. Twenty years later I was ten and beginning to get into this ‘indie music’ stuff when The Futureheads, the four-piece ‘post-punk revival’ band from Sunderland, released their cover of the song. At the time I was unaware of that it was a song that had already existed for two decades, though that does explain why her name was credited in the liner notes of the album.

The track is a prime example of what a cover version should be. The Futureheads don’t merely take the song and create a carbon copy, but add their own style whilst remaining true to the original’s musicality. Differing from the Prince Charming-like stomp of Kate Bush’s track, the band’s cover plays like a soundtrack of a man on the run from these hounds. Barry Hyde’s vocals succeed in expressing the passion and emotion displayed within the lyrics, he seems to elongate syllables and borderline shouts unable to contain himself, and the background ‘oh-oh’ vocals of Ross Millard, Jaff Craig and Dave Hyde give the track a great edge, providing a bold sense of solidarity as Hyde sings of this crisis he is going through.

One of my favourite covers. Good times.

My iPod #543: Green Day – Horseshoes and Handgrenades

Leave a reply

“>”Horseshoes and Handgrenades” would have been the perfect first single for 21st Century Breakdown, in my opinion. “I’m not fucking around” seems like the perfect first line to come back after five years of waiting for a new album, Billie Joe sings like he is attacking with a vengeance on here and sounds absolutely untouchable. He isn’t playing any games. Most of all, the song doesn’t play it safe; though it’s a bit repetitive it is still very exciting to listen to whereas, unfortunately, “Know Your Enemy” pales in comparison.

Like Sex Pistols’ “Holidays in the Sun”, “Horseshoes” begins with a chanting soldiers march but instead introduces the song’s rip-roaring riff before Tré Cool pounds on the tom-toms to get things really rolling. In three and a bit minutes, Billie Joe Armstrong doesn’t really sing as he does melodically shout about destroying everything in his path and not giving a fuck about it. He has no respect for himself, labelling himself as ‘a hater’ and ‘a traitor’, so why should he care about what anyone else says? The solid wall of guitars made by Butch Vig’s production heighten Billie Joe’s delivery, providing a relentless riff that repeats for what seems like hours on end and come to a sudden stop after Billie’s snarling screams.

There’s a raw intensity captured in “Horseshoes” that doesn’t appear so much in the album, and it is the only one where the band go balls to the wall in their performance for the whole track.