Monthly Archives: March 2023

#1013: The Beatles – Paperback Writer

Hey, look at that, it’s a Beatles song. So now comes the problem in how I can possibly approach this post without writing something that you can already find online… I think I just have to accept that when it comes to Beatles material, you can’t really write anything without regurgitating something that’s already been said or researched. But that’s why I have to put my own personal angle in there. Thinking about ‘Paperback Writer’, I don’t think it was one by the band where I heard it the first time and was instantly amazed. It’s only just over two minutes in length, but 14-year-old me needed those extra listens for it to all come together. It did. Thirteen years later, it feels just as good when those opening vocal harmonies come in.

Recorded during the sessions for what would become Revolver in 1966, Paul McCartney was inspired to write the track by his aunt, who suggested he write about something other than love for a change, and after he saw Ringo Starr reading in the backstage area of a venue. He and John Lennon got together, wrote the lyrics in the form of a letter from an aspiring writer who wants to get their book published and eventually worked on the track with George Harrison and Ringo Starr in the studio over two days in April ’66. Continuing their quest on experimenting in the studio, which properly started on sessions for the previous album, the group changed the line-up configuration to record the song’s backing track, with McCartney on lead guitar (he plays the riffs and the chugging lines during the verses), Harrison playing the rhythm, Starr on the usual drums and Lennon on tambourine. They did it in two takes, with the second being used for the final cut. That’s all they needed.

Got a lotta love for this power-pop number. With the Revolver Super Deluxe box set that came out a few months ago, some commenters were quick-witted to notice the huge similarity between the main guitar riff here and what would be used for the horns in ‘Got to Get You into My Life‘. Never would have put two and two together. Clearly, this was a melody McCartney had had in his head, so to make two songs out of it is quite something. Yeah, the riff’s cool, but there has to be huge props given to the bass guitar. Using a Rickenbacker bass instead of his signature Hofner and aided with some engineering know-how by Geoff Emerick, the low end has a fatter groove and provides a real drive to everything that’s happening. Plus, do like the Frère Jacques backing vocals by Lennon and Harrison in the final verses. Why they chose to sing that, I don’t know. But it just works. So, there you have it. Another Beatles post done. There’ll be more to come.

#1012: Modest Mouse – Paper Thin Walls

As I’m typing this, it’s currently the 18th of January 2023 – which shows you just how much in advance I do these things – and just getting to almost three weeks after the passing of Modest Mouse drummer Jeremiah Green. That was some awful news to wake up to on New Year’s Day. It had only been made public that he had been diagnosed with stage IV cancer just a few days before, but I don’t think anyone could have expected things to go as they did, and so quickly too. It’s still sad in January, and now in March too – maybe in between the two months some update on Modest Mouse will happen. Will just have to wait and see.

It took me the longest time to listen to the band’s Moon & Antarctica in full and in good quality because, even though its Wikipedia page showed just how well-rated it was by critics, it wasn’t anywhere on streaming services for whatever reason. That was until December 2018 when it was suddenly on Spotify. Then I had to see what it was all about. It was an instant add to my personal library. Felt like an album I’d become so familiar with, even though it was my first time hearing the thing. ‘Paper Thin Walls’ is the 11th track on The Moon & Antarctica and was one of those on there that struck an immediate chord with me. Once that opening guitar lick kicked in, I think it was pretty much a guarantee, and what followed was an added bonus.

From what I’ve gathered in the four-and-a-bit years I’ve been listening to the song, ‘Paper Thin…’ is this musically upbeat track about a disturbing lack of privacy and a general sense of disappointment with things going on in the world, feelings and situations that usually come along with being in a band and having an expectation to please people wherever you go. Sounds like a let down in writing, but with the repetitive melody and call-and-response aspect between the vocals and the instruments during the verses, everything sounds a lot more lively and energetic than you would expect. I think that weariness shows more in the choruses, or is it a bridge – I’m not sure, in which things slow down a peg and Isaac Brock becomes a bit more introspective. But once that’s over, it’s a case of second verse, same as the first, and the energy props up again. Though it wasn’t until the band’s next album that something of mainstream success would come their way, I think ‘Paper Thin Walls’ could be considered an example of what was to come, just due to its sheer accessibility while still maintaining that unique Modest Mouse essence.

#1011: Talking Heads – Paper

Hmmm… ‘Paper’. What can you say about Talking Heads’ ‘Paper’, the third track of Fear of Music, released in 1979? Well, you could argue that it’s one of the least talked about Talking Heads songs out there. I’ve given my take on a couple songs from that record in the past. I may have even mentioned in one of them that I consider Fear of Music to be my favourite Talking Heads album. Mainly because of the paranoia and David Byrne’s vocals. Now, why ‘Paper’ may be a Talking Heads song that flies under the radar, particularly in the context of Fear of Music, is that it’s somehow played remarkably straight. Sandwiched in between ‘Mind’ and ‘Cities’, ‘Paper’ sounds like a walk in the park. A walk in the park as David Byrne in 1979 probably wouldn’t be the same as the average person’s, though.

After ‘Mind’ establishes the something’s-not-quite-right theme that connects the whole album, with its odd guitar riffs and Byrne’s manic vocal delivery, ‘Paper’ reigns things in a little. The instrumental is more of your typical rock-band performance, though there may be some tape-echo/double-track production effect laid on to the scrambling guitar chords that arrive in the introduction and choruses. I’m not a producer, someone out there correct me if that’s wrong. Although you’re led to assume that the song may be a narrator’s fear/obsession with paper, the ‘paper’ in question is this huge metaphor about love affairs and short term/long term relationships. This is something I never would have even thought about, because I’m usually bumping my head to the busy, propelling performance by the four bandmembers. But yes, when Byrne’s telling us to hold onto the paper, or hold the paper up to the light, he’s really telling a listener to hold onto the relationship they have or take a moment to reflect on said relationship and really examine the truth behind it. Layers, people, layers.

Overall, I think ‘Paper’ is just fine. I can just about recall hearing Fear of Music for the first time back in about 2015 and remember the track jumping out at me straight away with those opening chords. The whole album was an immediate add to my home laptop. The track keeps those opening moments of the record flowing nicely, and is probably the last time on there that David Byrne sounds somewhat normal before becoming more and more unhinged as each track comes along. Should more people talk about it? I mean, it would be nice. But it’s always those ones that people don’t know so much that’ll surprise them.

#1010: The Smiths – Panic

Some of you reading may be perplexed to find that this is the very first Smiths song I’ve covered in this long-running list. You may be even further confused when I tell you it’ll be the only I write about too. Just not into them at all, really. I’ve tried to make it an aim to go through all their albums. I have listened to The Queen Is Dead about twice. That’s argued to be their best one, right? But that didn’t do much for me. I just don’t like Morrissey’s vocals and his delivery all that much. They just don’t sit right with me for a reason I haven’t been able to pin down. But, and this is just personal preference, ‘Panic’ seems to be the group’s only track where they don’t irk me as much.

‘Panic’ was one of the first pieces the Smiths worked on after the release of The Queen Is Dead and was further promoted as a standalone single in 1986. Many may know it as the opener on the B-side compilation, The World Won’t Listen, that followed a year later. I’d say the track is split into two distinct sections, the first being the verses that cover the overriding panic in various cities and towns in the UK and the second being the rallying calls to violently rage against the discos and DJs who were promoting terrible pop music and putting a mask over the real-life events that were actually happening in the world. The track was written whilst the Chernobyl incident was going on, so you could probably see where Morrissey’s disdain was coming from.

Another ‘fun’ fact about ‘Panic’ is that it was the first track of the band’s to feature new guitarist Craig Gannon, marking the beginning to their short-lived period as a five-piece. I think it’s mainly Johnny Marr’s guitar you hear providing those sliding chords throughout. But you certainly hear the dual-guitar aspect during the explosive introduction. Morrissey melodically sighs his way through the track, which I’m sure he does in may other Smiths songs. But like I said earlier, it works a lot more here for me than it does in other places. And you’ve gotta give it up for the kids who join in on the ‘hang the DJ’ vocals during the outro. They sound like they’re having a lot of fun singing that aggressive line. But that’s kids for you.

#1009: Ween – Pandy Fackler

Ween’s White Pepper, released in 2000, is a bit of an odd one in the band’s discography, in that it’s the least odd-sounding out of all the albums Ween laid out on tape. Really, it’s the most streamlined, glossed-out, bordering on stadium-rock record, with hooks abound and a huge accessibility. What brought about that change in direction for that particular time is anyone’s guess. Mine is that there are a few reasons. Firstly being that it was the first where the band truly performed as the five-piece that had been on the road for years at that point. Gene Ween had had his first child a couple years prior and may have been understandably happy as a result during the times of recording. And as he and Dean Ween were approaching 30, maybe they really wanted to make that classic rock record for the masses. Just a few takes on my part, though.

‘Pandy Fackler’ is the ninth track on the album. Not a massive favourite among the general public. It’s got the last second-last amount of listens on Spotify, after instrumental ‘Ice Castles‘, and I’m sure I saw a video where Gener pretty much left the stage so keyboardist Glenn McClelland could carry out an extended solo during the instrumental break. So I think there’s a bit of a ‘toilet/bathroom break’ status about it at live shows. But I think it’s smooth as butter. Fans will know how great it is too. The band introduced it as their ‘Steely Dan song’ in one of its first live performances. Though it does have a ‘Reelin’ in the Years‘ rhythm about it, I think it’s more a reference to the precision, tightness and execution of the band’s performance on it. Steely Dan are known for that type of stuff.

Everything you need to know in order to understand what the track’s about is in its lyrics. Pandy Fackler’s a bit of a strange girl from an ‘ideal’ middle-American family who likes to have a good time in her own way. Here, the narrator sings of their admiration for here, reminiscing on the night they got together in a moment of passion. And after that comes the lengthy keyboard solo carried out by McClelland. It’s a nice jam. Dean Ween’s guitar runs are top-notch. McClelland knows his way around the keys. Rhythm section of Claude Coleman on drums and Dave Dreiwitz on bass hold everything together. And contrary to what I thought all these years, I think it’s a rare occasion on which Deaner does the lead vocals, which is always welcome.