Monthly Archives: April 2025

#1261: They Might Be Giants – Spiraling Shape

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And continuing talk about They Might Be Giants songs that leave me wanting more, today’s song is ‘Spiraling Shape’, the ninth song on the band’s Factory Showroom album from 1996. The track is almost four minutes longer than ‘Spine’. But when it reaches its end where everything cuts to sudden silence, I usually think “I could listen to that one again.” And I usually do. When I first came round to listen to Factory Showroom, in about 2010 or something, ‘Spiraling Shape’ appeared to be one that fans considered to be their best according to the Song Ratings list on the the band’s fan-run Wikipedia site. In the top 20, I want to say, even back then. I won’t say it was an immediate hit on the first listen. I was probably being a dumb hater. Usually was at 15. But then it was those listens that followed that got me thinking, “Yep. This song is a good one.” Something along those lines.

Another TMBG number written by John Linnell, the track is about a little thing known as a ‘fad’ – an intense and widely shared enthusiasm for something, especially one that is short-lived; a craze. Thank you, Google, for that definition. And in the case of the song, this enthusiasm is for the titular subject. People see this spiraling shape, immediately stop what they’re doing and are drawn in to this hypnotising presence that looms before them, like lambs to the slaughter. Perspectives from the people who haven’t yet experienced the shape but have heard what others have said about it, those who did but were left disillusioned by it, and those who know they could even come to harm by being allured by it are told. And the melodies utliised throughout are oh-so sweet. “The spiraling shape will make you go insaaaaaane”, Linnell sings. “Everyone wants to see that groovy thiiiiiiiing”, Flansburgh replies. There are some pitched-up Linnell harmonies that show up to in the midst of it all. You’ve gotta love it. I know I do.

The song actually has origins as early as 1992. In that year, They Might Be Giants made a demo for the song ‘Rocket Ship’. Quite the groovy number about travelling in a rocket ship that may or may not crash during its journey. Linnell switches up his vocal during the verses to make it sound more unusual than normal. But then suddenly out of nowhere, the chorus that would end up being used in ‘Spiraling Shape’ starts playing seemingly out of nowhere. Two somewhat disparate sections brought together to make a whole. Linnell recognised the greatness he had achieved with this section, reserving it for use at a later date. The parts making up the verses were never used again. Maybe they will be one day. It’s looking more likely that they won’t. But just goes to show that if a complete song doesn’t seem to work, as long as there’s one memorable part within it, you can always recycle it to make it its own thing some time in the future.

#1260: They Might Be Giants – Spine

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They Might Be Giants’ The Spine was the first album by the band that I owned physically. A lot of TMBG fans might ask why. The Spine, for whatever reason, isn’t considered to be one of their greatest moments. Was released in a bit of a wilderness period they were going through. Honestly, my request for the LP stemmed from desperately wanting to hear the transition between ‘Au Contraire’ and ‘Damn Good Times’ in an uninterrupted fashion. And it contained ‘Experimental Film’, which I found through Homestar Runner. I always had good times with the cartoon. But within the album is a number of strong songs, ones that I consider to be up there as some of the group’s best. Others not so much. But that’s how it usually goes with music.

Now a lot of people may argue that ‘Spine’ wouldn’t go in the category of best songs by They Might Be Giants. And I would probably agree. But there was a point where I was just singing it to myself out of the blue and on a frequent basis. So this obviously meant that I liked it without even really trying. ‘Spine’ is only 30 seconds long and is more of a transition piece between the album opener, aforementioned ‘Experimental Film’, and third song ‘Memo to Human Resources’. But even as that, I still get a kick out of it. It’s the first of two songs about the essential anatomic structure in our bodies. This one sung by John Linnell. ‘Spines’ by John Flansburgh comes around later on. I have it in my head that the two songwriters coincidentally wrote songs about the spine in their own respective free times, and once one had found out that the other had done the same, then it only seemed reasonable that the album they’d do next would be named The Spine.

In the six lines ‘Spine’ is made of, I think John Linnell is trying to depict a man going through a stressful time of some kind. Mentions of dragging feet across a back and walking fingers through a mind. Doesn’t sound like things are going according to plan in this narrator’s world. The band’s performance sounds quite heavy, but I put that to the fact that everything’s bunched up in the centre channel. Gives the whole atmosphere a very crowded feel. Initially, I thought it was a whole other singer on the track. Maybe someone the Johns knew and thought would do a good job. Really, it’s just John Linnell really delivering the words from his stomach, as opposed to the more nasal tones he usually provides. Just as soon as you feel the song progressing and feel like it’s going somewhere, it ends and you’re left wanting at least a minute more. At least when you’re in my shoes, that’s the case. But I can make do with what we have.

#1259: Coldplay – Speed of Sound

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Hey there, everyone. Guess who’s turned 30? This guy right here. Incredible stuff. It really creeps up on you, honestly. I’m gonna hope this next decade brings nothing but happiness and good fortune. The 20s were fine. Thirties are the new 20s. That’s what they say, right? Anyway, thanks for reading. This has gone on for a good 12 years now, and it’ll be a while until it finishes. But we’re getting there every two days at a time. And we continue with Coldplay’s ‘Speed of Sound’, released 20 years ago, the big first single to announce their comeback in anticipation to what was the band’s upcoming third album X&Y. I’ve come to think of that particular record as their ‘biggest band in the world’ statement. It’s not my favourite. And funnily enough, the band don’t look too fondly on that era either. What can you do?

And I kind of remember ‘Speed of Sound’ being the new song. If I recall correctly, its music video made its premiere in the UK on Channel 4. I didn’t care all that much for Coldplay then. Green Day was more my thing in 2005. And the premiere was at a really late time too. So, I figured I wasn’t missing out on anything much if I went to bed instead. I more remember the discussion around the song that was happening at the time. Mostly that it sounded too similar to ‘Clocks’, which I didn’t get initially. Speeding up ‘Speed of Sound’ (hardy-har-har) makes the similarity a little clearer. Then, to rub more salt in the wound, this track by what was supposedly the biggest band in the world made it to number two in the singles chart, beaten by the annoying, novelty ringtone era kingpin Crazy Frog with (its?) cover of ‘Axel F’. And at a time when it felt like Coldplay hate was at its highest, some people took great pleasure in that happening.

Fast-forward some years later, and I ended up asking for X&Y as a gift for one of those yearly occasions. Mainly because I just wanted access to the singles from it. I listened through it I think the one time, and it felt like it went on for ages. But before then I don’t think I’d properly listened to ‘Speed of Sound’ and given it full attention. It was through the full album listen where I sort of realised the song wasn’t half bad. A song about feeling insignificant and needing a sense of direction in this big, overwhelming world that still has so many questions left unanswered as to its origins. Not a bad topic. “All those places I got found” is a phrase that’s never sounded right to me, but that’s a little nitpick I have. But I really enjoy the way Chris Martin sings the whole thing, even though he apparently can’t stand it now. There’s an actual groovy bassline that you don’t find in a lot of Coldplay songs that begins at the “Look up, I look up at night” verse. And everything’s all tied together by the far out synths and reverbed guitar work that aid in giving the song this spacey atmosphere. One of these days I’ll maybe listen to X&Y again. ‘Least I know this one will always be in there.

#1258: Pavement – Speak, See, Remember

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According to the old family computer, I downloaded Pavement’s Terror Twilight on 8th June 2012. That specific date marked 13 years to the day it had been available to the public since its release in 1999. I remember there being some hope that an extended reissue of the album would be released that year too. That didn’t happen, and instead Pavement fans had to wait 10 more years for that package to come through. ‘Speak, See, Remember’ is the ninth track on the album. It’s the least popular on there, looking at the Spotify numbers. But in my case, it was one of the “deep” cuts of the record that I got into nearly immediately. Was a number that frequently played on those bus journeys to school back in the day.

I don’t know if anyone’s noticed, but a lot of Pavement songs (more specifically songs by Stephen Malkmus) contain melodies that more or less follow those played by the main guitar in the mix. And ‘Speak, See, Remember’ is no different. In various interviews, Malmus mentions that he doesn’t focus so much on the lyrical content of his work, seeing it more as exercise in wordplay and the like. So I’ve just come to think that he had the music ready and just wrote whatever sounded good at the time. But it’s not like the words in this track don’t make sense or aren’t worthy to look into. If I were to offer my suggestion… sounds to me like it’s about a man working an office job, having to go through usual office conversation, which then turns into a commentary on urbanisation and capitalisation at the end. Bit of a shift in topic to match the shift in music that happens with a minute-and-a-half left to go, when the band really get to rocking and culminates in this descending-scale guitar breakdown.

The song initially starts out as, what I’ve always thought of, one that you’d hear in some kind of underground, smooth jazzy kind of night club. The tempo has a swing to it that you want to click your fingers to every time the snare hits. There are those little piano chords that arrive once in a while. And Malkmus as ever provides a laidback but still endearing vocal. The track contains what I think is the second usage of a “Remember/December” rhyme in a Pavement song after being used initially in ‘Gold Soundz’. Thought that was kind of interesting. I’ve always wondered if that “Do it, do it, do it” uttered by Malkmus was inspired by Lindsey Buckingham doing the same in Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Second Hand News’. And also, the album title comes directly from this song too. Without it, we may have had the album Farewell Horizontal on our hands. Doesn’t have the same ring to it.

#1257: Kanye West ft. GLC & Consequence – Spaceship

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‘Spaceship’ is another song from Kanye West’s The College Dropout that I found myself having to listen to on a frequent basis back in ’04. It’s a story I’ve told in a few of the other songs from the album here: My sister got the album as a present, she played it on the computer, my computer had these nice but unnecessary speakers my uncle set up. The song played; I’d be lying around somewhere nearby. And I think my sister would spontaneously start singing the chorus at random points too. So she was a fan. Big into The College Dropout. Me, it took a few years to catch up. I was well in my long-lasting rock phase. Back in 2004, I was probably listening to The Darkness or something. That was a good year to be a fan of that band.

I caught up, though and got to appreciate ‘Spaceship’ for the song it was/is, which is one listing the struggles of the three performing artists who were sick of working in their dead-end jobs and looking for any kind of escape that would help them to achieve the great things they know their destined for. In the first verse, West details his less-than-pleasant experiences from working at the mall, his disdain for the manager, and his self-belief that the work he was putting into his beat-making would save him in due time. GLC makes clear his own conflict about having to portray a clean-cut image for his peers while also being a man in the streets who usually has to carry a piece for his own protection. Consequence tells a story of one of his co-workers seeing but not recognizing him in a Busta Rhymes music video, and makes note that however soul-sucking his job might be, he’s putting in the grind until things truly take off for him. All of this over a beat made via chopping up Marvin Gaye’s track, ‘Distant Lover’. A hypnotizing bass line, I could listen to that by itself all day.

The track was very, very close to being a single from The College Dropout. Had a music video made for it and everything. But by the time it was to have been released, West was well underway working on what was to be his second album. So plans were shelved. He also didn’t like the video all that much. The general public didn’t know about its existence until 2009, when GLC posted it on his blog. And in 2020, West posted it on his website to commemorate the announce of his fashion brand’s partnership deal with The Gap. He’d made his peace with the video at that point. In another world, with a ‘single’ status, I guess a lot more people would know about the song. But people in the know, know, and we can all take some pride in that. Oh, and a big mention has to go to the vocal harmonies by singer Tony williams during the choruses. Those, from what I remember hearing, were a very last-minute addition. A very, very nice addition, gotta add.