Monthly Archives: October 2022

#989: Weezer – Only in Dreams

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2006 was the year that I listened through Weezer’s Blue Album for the first time. I was 11 years old and had somehow stumbled upon ‘Buddy Holly’, ‘Undone’ and ‘Say It Ain’t So’ through the TV and music video sites that weren’t YouTube. I liked all three. It only made sense to own the album they were on, so I could listen to them whenever I wanted. Every track on there was instantly memorable. The guitars, good. The harmonies, good. The choruses, very nice. And coming through the decked-out speakers my uncle installed for the XP computer, it certainly made for an experience. But at that age, I still didn’t have quite the attention span. My eye had caught the just-about eight minute length of the final track ‘Only in Dreams’ on Windows Media Player. Not to say that everything I had heard depended on how it ended, but a kid doesn’t usually have the patience to sit through that long a song. The wall of feedback at the end of ‘Holiday’ left a brief period of silence, and then the bass guitar riff of ‘…Dreams’ started. And I was pretty much entranced from that point onward. Very hypnotic way to start, which makes those guitar entrances for the choruses really special.

The track is one in which Rivers Cuomo, or at the least the nameless narrator here, is detailing this alluring, mystical lady who he just can’t get his mind off. She seems to be the perfect woman. He’s written the lyric with a second-person narrative, as if addressing the listener. You know, “you can’t resist her, she’s in your bones”. But taking into account the observational takes of women that would be a constant through the band’s discography, I think it’s fair to say it’s all coming from a very personal experience. Cuomo details a fairytale of a man and woman holding hands and floating into the ether, only to wake up, realise that it’s all been a dream and be left disappointed by a lonely reality. Hey, it’s relatable stuff. Could say it may suffer from little sappy. But goodness, the crunch of those guitars that come in during the choruses add so much emotional weight that anything else that happens during this song is justified.

I think we can all agree that the highlight of the entire track is the breakdown that happens about five minutes in. By that point, the singing has finished – you won’t hear Cuomo’s voice again. And starting with the bass guitar again, the track solo rises in intensity with Patrick Wilson smacking on the drums and cymbals and dueling guitar lines, courtesy of Cuomo. This section seems to go on and on, there’s a huge build in tension. You wonder where it’s gonna go. And the release happens when all the guitars fall in, playing the bass guitar riff in unison. It’s a glorious moment, capped off with a spectacular solo, coming to an end in the comedown with Matt Sharp’s bass – just like the track started. That’s how the whole album ends. And that’s how Weezer introduced themselves to the world. Talk about a way to start things off.

#988: Bob Dylan – One of Us Must Know (Sooner or Later)

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Like other double albums, Bob Dylan’s Blonde on Blonde contains tracks that I can give two thumbs up to. Others not so much. But I’m very sure that when I first heard the album many years back, like 2013 or something, ‘One of Us Must Know’ was one that caught my ear straight away. It was clearly a track that Dylan recognised some potential in himself, as it was selected to be the first single to be released from the album, months in advance. What probably piqued my ears the most was Dylan’s voice. His exaggerated nasal delivery would give comedians and sitcom writers material to go to town with for years to come, particularly the way he uses it throughout this whole album. But it’s certainly unique and leaves its mark. “Sooner or later, one of us must know” sounds much better as “SoOOoneeeer or lAaaterrrrr, ooOone of us must knooOOoooow”. That’s the best way I can capture Dylan’s delivery.

As I’ve come to understand it, it’s from the point of view of a guy who’s pondering on a relationship that ended. Though the clues were there that things were coming to a close, the narrator here seemed to be oblivious to them all. It’s also made clear that he himself was to blame for at least some part of what went on, but, as men usually do, he sort of brushes it off and tries to make it as if the other half is taking things too personally. This is a narrator who has their faults, but they want to make clear that anything they did was never on purpose and that their heart was always in the right place. The other half ends it all, and he realises that it’s just the way it goes sometimes and no malice has been left over. Now, that’s how I’ve always seen it. But now I’m seeing that it may also be one long metaphor alluding to Dylan’s move from acoustic folk music to electric rock that annoyed a lot of people back in the day. Gotta love interpretations.

Musically, I guess I should point you to the piano, played throughout by session musician Paul Griffin. Particularly during those choruses where he’s really flowing up and down the keys, Griffin’s piano is very much the lead instrument for this one. During the low-key verses, the organ played by Al Kooper will rise in the mix with a little melodic hook here and there. And as the end of those verses come closer, there’s a massive increase in intensity that is then released with the gratifying choruses. Then Dylan closes it all out with a jubilant harmonica solo. It’s good stuff, very nice with the dynamics. It’s only the fourth track on Blonde on Blonde, so there’s still a lot more to come within the context of the record. But when you consider that it closes out the first side of the vinyl before you flipped it over to hear side two, it’s a fine way to finish things off. Just for that little bit.

#987: Pink Floyd – One of My Turns

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Within the story of The Wall, ‘One of My Turns’ comes at a point where the main character, Pink, finds out that his wife has been cheating on him while he, a rich musician, has been up to no good on the road himself. Despite his own wrongdoing, he obviously wasn’t prepared for the tables to be turned. He brings a groupie back to his apartment, sits down blankly staring at the television, and suddenly explodes in a fit of rage throwing his possessions around the room. Without properly delving into the whole concept, you’d only be able to sort of gauge what’s going on because of the sound effects that occur during the song. Thankfully, though, there’s a film where everything’s depicted in the frantic and frightening manner you would think a director would take if that situation happened in real life.

So this track is pretty much split into two sections. The calm before the storm, and the sudden explosion. Richard Wright’s synthesizer adds one note after the other to create this uneasy tension while we hear the groupie marvel at the size of Pink’s apartment and the amount of things he has. After she asks Pink if he’s feeling okay, FYI he isn’t, is when Roger Waters finally enters the frame to sing the first verse. Singing all calm-like alongside Wright’s synthesizer, he essentially describes Pink’s emptiness and overbearing depression with a short series of similes and heart-wrenching statements. Among them he warns the listener that he can feel “one of [his] turns coming on”. Not too soon after he says that, that turn arrives and the rest of the song is a hard-rock number with the guitars and drums entering the mix.

Just like many other songs on The Wall, Roger Waters makes it his mission to sound as unhinged as he possibly can, straining his voice to the peak of its limitations during this section of the track. Those are some high notes he’s reaching, but he pulls them off even though it’s like his voice could break there and then during the take. I personally have always got a kick of how he sings “Would you like something to eat?” There’s something a cartoon-ish about it. After a brief solo, the groupie runs out of the apartment, leaving Pink to scream into the night, which segues right into the next song on the album. If you want to listen to someone fall apart and lose it entirely, these are two songs which may pique your interest.

#986: Daft Punk – One More Time

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There’s a clip of a 5/6-year-old me watching Daft Punk’s ‘One More Time’ video just for a moment on Top of the Pops, all the way back in 2001. It might just be a figment of my imagination, but I’m quite sure that it happened. But I wouldn’t have understood what was with all the blue people or why the music video was a cartoon. All the videos I’d seen at that point had people in them. The song reached number two in the charts over here in the UK. But between 2001-2010, I had honestly forgotten that the song had existed until one of my schoolmates spontaneously started singing it in between classes. That act alone reminded me how much of an earworm it was. It was like it had been my favourite song for all those forgotten years. Wasn’t too long that I downloaded Discovery and reaped all the benefits.

‘One More Time’ opens that album. Fair to say, it might just be one of the best album openers to ever exist. Set to chopped up horns and a rhythm section sampled from Eddie Johns’ ‘More Spell on You’, the track is a five-and-a-half celebration of dance and music and a call for people to let loose just once more before letting things come to an end. The beat is repetitive. The lyrics, written and performed by Romanthony, are also recycled on and on. Almost like a skipping record. But the message has to be said clearly for all to hear. We have to celebrate. Don’t stop the dancing. And we can’t stop, because they both make everyone feel so free. A lot of “yeahs” and “come ons” and “all rights” added into the mix, and Romanthony and Daft Punk provide us with a universal hit.

I think the best part about the track, though, is that it isn’t all four-on-the-floor thumping for the duration it lasts for. Things get all spacey around the two-minute mark, where almost all the instruments drop out and leave a soothing synthesizer to play a relaxing chord progression behind Romanthony’s auto-tuned vocals. Brings a huge sense of calm and serenity amongst the partying madness. But of course it can’t last forever, as those horns rise up in the mix again and the good times start all over again. Gotta appreciate Romanthony’s vocals in general. It seems that the vocal take is something of a cut-and-paste job where he sang each phrase individually, which were then sorted into a flowing lyrical piece where each phrase segues into the next. And that’s not to put it down, the technique is awesome. Yes, he’s auto-tuned to oblivion, but for great effect rather than masking a bad vocalist. The result deserves a great chef’s kiss. 20+ years and this track still sounds massive.

#985: The Knife – One Hit

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Karin Dreijer possesses a unique voice as it is, so when they manipulate it on ‘One Hit’ and alter its pitch to make it sound more masculine, it certainly adds a freaky dimension to the audio proceedings. The track is the penultimate on The Knife’s 2006 album Silent Shout. When I listened to that record for the first time, I think in my first year of uni and way past its initial release date, ‘One Hit’ was the one that instantly stuck. I know, I’ve done posts on ‘Like a Pen’ and ‘Marble House’. But I tell you, ‘One Hit’ was the one Knife song I had on repeat for a while.

It seems that the track is from the point of view of an abuser. A male who’s violent with their partner, a proud advocate of dated stereotypical gender roles… a misogynist to come down to brass tacks. It took a long time for me to get round to checking out the words to this one. Just because the rhythm is too strong. Too much of a bop. Really enjoy the swinging tribal feel that’s going on throughout. Those choruses are an ominous singalong. Dreijer’s already pitched down vocals are then joined by these gang backing vocals that have gone through the same effect. But then these are also backed by some really catchy hooks and melodies on the synthesizers. It’s a weird dynamic going on, but it’s thrilling all the same.

But yeah, there is a true asshole narrator going on. Male privilege, violence against women and male dominance, this track is from the point of view of someone who is in favour of all these things. They have no shame in their dated views on stereotypical gender roles, and are oblivious as to why women wouldn’t want to cook and clean and play the submissive role in the relationship when it seems so obvious that’s what they’re meant for. This isn’t someone we’re meant to empathise with in the slightest. But through indulging in this narrative take, Dreijer also simultaneously conjures a mocking attack on the men in the real world who follow these ideals. The narrator here’s a simpleton to say the least, so what better way to expose these than highlighting their views to let the listener realise just how dumb it all is. There isn’t another track quite like it, in my eyes.