Monthly Archives: April 2022

942: LCD Soundsystem – North American Scum

I was there. I was there when ‘North American Scum’ started making its rounds on MTV2 back in what would have been 2007, as James Murphy and his LCD Soundsystem project was to release their brand new album, Sound of Silver. I was 11 years old, quickly approaching 12, and admittedly, I wasn’t hugely interested in LCD’s stuff in those days. ‘Tribulations’ and ‘Losing My Edge’ I’d also seen on MTV2, and ‘Daft Punk Is Playing at My House’ was on the FIFA 06 soundtrack. I thought those were all just okay. Very catchy, no doubt. But left no lasting effect on me. So when ‘North American Scum’ arrived, I didn’t really have big opinions of the track. It sounded cool at least, I liked the freaky chorus.

Fast forward to 2019, and LCD Soundsystem are one of the most revered indie acts of their time. Sound of Silver is considered the masterpiece of their discography by many. I witnessed the acclaim, read about them having a big final concert, which then turned out to be not-so-final when they got back together and released another album in 2017. So it was only made sense that I listened to their catalogue from front to back. The self-titled debut to American Dream. Check out what all the praise was about. I did. And I gotta say… I still wasn’t feeling it. Maybe it’s to do with James Murphy’s voice or something. LCD Soundsystem are in that group of bands/artists that a lot of indieheads like that I’m just not as invested in. Been able to come to terms with that.

My research when listening through the band’s discography made me appreciate some of their songs a lot more though. If I could start this series all over again, ‘Losing My Edge’ would have its own page. ‘North American Scum’ has a proper monster of a chorus, something that I didn’t notice until watching the live performance of the track they did with Arcade Fire. I appreciate Murphy’s rhythmic talk-singing vocal delivery of the verses, which then transforms into these high wails and screeches during the choruses. Helps to capture that quiet-loud dynamic between the two sections. The track is also about being proud of being from America, no matter how dumb or uncool it might seem in comparison to those artsy European places. There are a lot of songs about American pride out there, but this one’s done with some humour, which I can always get behind.

#941: John Lennon – Nobody Told Me

Yeah, it’s another John Lennon song. I’m sorry if that bothers you, I don’t know why it would, but there’s no song I have beginning with ‘Nobody’ that came between this and the last one. This track has much less of a “woe is me” energy to it than ‘Nobody Loves You’, but possesses more of a “What the hell is going on around here?” tone. It’s a sentiment that Lennon felt being out of the music business, devoting his time as a father to his newborn son and seeing things on the news and in the street that freaked him out.

‘Nobody Told Me’ was one of the many tracks Lennon laid down to tape, having decided to get back into the music business after a five-year retirement that began in 1975, a year which coincided with the birth of his second son Sean. Yoko Ono stated that she thought that Lennon felt the world has “lost its direction”, but was also starting to realise that life in general was always going to move in mysterious ways. The lyrics list these situations and play-on-words that depict a sense of stasis and passivity. And for a guy who was a face of the peace movement a decade earlier, the lack of people taking a stand against injustice, or just anything to stand for in general, might just have weirded him out a bit.

The track’s carried by this great swinging rhythm, which Lennon and his 80s backing band put a fantastic weight behind. The timing is played with a little during those piano/guitar ascending/descending melody sections that occur for the pre-chorus. But it all comes crashing back into motion when the actual chorus hits in which Lennon belts out the “Nobody told me there’d be days like these” refrain amidst the rising, rolling guitar fills and swooping bass licks. Some sweet bass going on in this song by the way, played by Tony Levin. Personal highlight for me. What you may not know, is that the track was originally going to be given to Ringo Starr to sing. He and Lennon were to work together in the studio in 1981 for Starr’s upcoming album, but Lennon’s murder brought a tragic end to any plans that were to happen. I have a feeling that the song would have to be changed somewhat to fit Starr’s style. Maybe a key change to suit his voice. It probably wouldn’t have had the same effect. So although things didn’t quite turn out the way they were meant to, I quite glad we still have this.

#940: John Lennon – Nobody Loves You (When You’re Down and Out)

In 1974, an advertisement was made to promote the release of John Lennon’s forthcoming album, Walls and Bridges. His former bandmate but good friend Ringo Starr provided the voiceover, and two of Lennon’s new tracks were previewed. One being ‘Whatever Gets You thru the Night’, his first number one in the US, and today’s song, ‘Nobody Loves You (When You’re Down and Out)’. Decades later, I came across the latter through seeing the advert on YouTube, and that small clip left me wanting to hear the whole thing. So, I guess that commercial fulfilled its job.

‘Nobody Loves You’ encapsulates Lennon’s feelings and cynical takes he had garnered during his “Lost Weekend” period, a time when he was separated from Yoko Ono and spending his days drinking and getting high with his buddies in Los Angeles. He was ultimately depressed and lonely, but also let down by the critical and public reception of his then-latest music. He had given the world hope with the Beatles. He’d been at the forefront spreading the message of peace and love. He’d laid his soul bare countless times in previous albums. But the indifference in return at the time left he feeling cheated and disillusioned with the music industry. Probably why he decided to retire for a bit not so long after.

Lennon said that the track was one that Frank Sinatra could have sung. Listening to it, you can kind of see why. The tense strings and the smoky-nightclub-esque horn section provide the music this grand cinematic feel, and its crawling tempo lend a feel that the best of those iconic crooners could belt out a note to. Though funnily in a way, Lennon doesn’t go the ‘My Way’ route and instead sings the lyrics in a hushed and rather casual manner. The restraint makes it all the more harder when, after a sweet slide-guitar solo, the music rises with tempo and urgency and Lennon lets everything out on the “Well, I get up in the morning” section. That doesn’t last too long though. The music returns to that of the verses, and after the now quite chilling line “Everybody loves you when you’re six foot in the ground”, Lennon sends us off with some happy-go-lucky whistling. To think, had he not come back with a new record in 1980, this could have been his last original song on an album. It’s not a song to feel happy to when you’re listening, but it’s certainly relatable. Not in the way that we could see it from Lennon’s point of view as an almighty mega-rich superstar. But it ultimately distils a sense of loneliness and cynicism that all of us feel from time to time.

#939: Pink Floyd – Nobody Home

All rock fans know The Wall. The album about the fictional rockstar who, after going through a life of traumatic events, builds a metaphorical wall around him to close him off from the outside world, before then being dosed with “medication” that results in a Nazi leader hallucination. If that doesn’t ring any bells, it’s also the album with the “Leave us kids alone” song on there. There you go, should be much more familiar to you now.

‘Nobody Home’ was one of the last songs written for the double album. The story goes that bassist Roger Waters was arguing with the rest of his bandmates about songwriting contributions. Surprise, surprise, am I right? Someone said if he was so good why didn’t he write something. And that’s what he did. He went home, wrote this track, came into the studio a couple days and showed everybody what he’d done. The rest of the band were impressed, and so it came to be the third track on the album’s second half. In terms of the album’s story, the track captures the Pink character in his comatose state, staring blankly at the television in a trashed hotel room, who then proceeds to list the useless things he possesses that keep him going that little bit. What he doesn’t have though, which probably matters the most, is the love of his wife who doesn’t pick up the phone when he tries to call home. The song ends abruptly after the start of what would be another verse, possibly because Pink loses consciousness again, before transitioning into the album’s next track ‘Vera’.

In my eyes, the track is one of the finest on The Wall. The double record goes off the wall at the majority of times, pardon the pun, it could probably turn some people off. But there’s something so graceful about this track. Sure, the narrator’s not in the greatest of places. But that grand piano and glorious orchestra aid in bringing a majestic-like quality to the production. Waters’ vocal delivery is top-notch. Doesn’t really go above anything than a murmur until the “Oooh, babe!” moment which is chill-inducing. And I have some appreciation for those other little musical/production choices. Like that panning heartbeat-like synthesizer during the intro, or the fact that Waters’ vocal echoes on itself to create its own rhythm. A lot of strong moments just in this one song. Could listen to it all the time.

#938: Mac DeMarco – Nobody

Three years ago on this day, Mac DeMarco released ‘All of Our Yesterdays’ – the second single from what was his forthcoming fourth album Here Comes the Cowboy. That’s a nice one, was an instant download for me. Would have its own post had it not been released six years after the blog. But just under a month before came the album’s first single, ‘Nobody’, a slow burner reminiscent of his work on This Old Dog that was also accompanied by its somewhat unsettling video featuring DeMarco heavily doused in make-up to resemble a reptilian-like creature.

The decision to do that was very much in line with the song’s theme. Mac describes himself as a creature put on display for people to entertain while feeling sad inside and wishing he could go back to the way things were before, when he wasn’t known as the indie jester-type character that people seen him as up until then. The music is light and forlorn, carried by this lightly plucked guitars – both acoustic and electric – and a droning keyboard that changes notes in accordance with the chord progressions throughout. That is one lonely keyboard, but its use really ties everything together. DeMarco delivers his vocal with the usual croon, but there’s a sigh-like quality to it that makes it all the more comforting.

The sentiment of feeling like an exhibition put out for display was reflected in the other videos DeMarco made during the ‘Cowboy’ era. That whole period was marked by a few other actions of his that got people talkin’. He deactivated his social media accounts. He prevented the public from commenting on and liking/disliking his videos on YouTube. All of this really left people wondering if he was okay for a while. Then the album came out and left a majority of fans disappointed. I think time’s been kinder to it. But it’s been the longest period of time between a Mac release since Rock and Roll Night Club way back when. Hopefully that’s because he runs his own label and so feels no pressure to work on music for now, rather than he not wanting to do music at all.