Author Archives: The Music in My Ears (by Jamie Kyei)

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About The Music in My Ears (by Jamie Kyei)

Just one man who's making his way through life one day at a time writing about the songs he has on his phone. And other things at some points.

#1219: The Who – Slip Kid

Sometime in 2012 when I should have really been focusing on studying for my A-Levels but also going through what I think was a sort of depression at the time, I got round to listening to The Who by Numbers. Wikipedia showed that this was the album that the band came back with after Quadrophenia two years before, and through listening it became clear why the record was named the way it was. It was no rock opera like Tommy or Quadrophenia. There was no overarching theme tying the songs like on …Sell Out. No, this time round was a standard, simple ten-track album brought to you by the four bandmembers, just under 40 minutes, doing what they did best. No sign of pretension to be found.

During the album’s sessions, guitarist and songwriter Pete Townshend turned 30. Feeling the pressures of feeling like an old man in the young man’s game of rock and roll and becoming heavily disillusioned with it all, he laid out his feelings in the tracks that would go on to make up …by Numbers. The album begins with ‘Slip Kid’, a warning to the kids who were looking to get into the music business disguised as a track about a young man who has to go to war alongside these older people who have led a long life and are providing this unwanted advice. I’m sure that the whole track is one big metaphor, to be honest. I think the crucial line that really tells what Townshend’s message is in the final lines when Roger Daltrey sings, “You’re sliding down the hill like me” a nod to being “over the hill” which the whole album goes on to delve into for the next half-hour.

The song begins with a loop of handclaps and percussion (cowbell on the left, tom-toms on the right) which persists throughout, with the rest of the band joining in together after a swift count-in by Townshend. Two simultaneous riffs provided by premier session player Nick Hopkins on the piano and Townshend on guitar get things going, before Daltrey gets his gritty vocals. Just in the introduction alone, there’s enough memorable melodies to go around. Daltrey’s tougher vocals contrast with the softer tones of Townshend and John Entwistle’s backing harmonies with fine effect. The latter’s bass line is one to recognise as per usual, particularly how it mirrors the backing vocals during outro. And unusually Keith Moon takes a bit of a backseat on the drums, staying mainly on the hi-hat and snare. Slip Kid’s a very steady number. Doesn’t announce itself with a bang like ‘The Real Me’ or possess the wait of anticipation like ‘Baba O’Riley’, but does the job in its own firm, secure way.

#1218: The Futureheads – Skip to the End

Goddamn it, it’s been nearly 20 years since this song came out, and I vividly remember watching MTV2 when its music video was showing on the regular. That places me at the age of 11, nearing the end of my days in primary school. ‘Skip to the End’ was unveiled as the first single from what was going to be the new second album by The Futureheads, News and Tributes. It was something I wasn’t expecting because 1, I wasn’t reading up on music like that back then, and 2, another song by the band had been released some months prior that had been announced as a standalone thing and nothing more. But none of it mattered. The band were officially back, back. And owning the band’s debut album on CD like I did, and still do, it was an exciting thing.

I wouldn’t be able to specifically remember the very first time I watched the video/heard the song, but I do recall at least thinking initially that it maybe wasn’t as immediate as a ‘Decent Days and Nights’ or ‘Area’. The verses hopped along with clicking cross-sticks and stabbing guitar chords. Guitarist/singer Barry Hyde delivers his vocals, unusually without the notable backing vocals that were ingrained in the Futureheads DNA. But then the chorus comes in, those backing vocals arrive with it and everything felt all right again. It took a while to get there, but that familiar Futureheads feeling was established. And after hearing it probably almost every morning before school in that time, it made sense that it would stick in my head and I would add it on a phone so I could write my feelings about it nearly two decades later.

The lyrical matter is pretty simple. The narrator here states that if there was a chance to somehow go forward in time and witness the end of their relationship with someone, they would do so to see if there was any point in starting it in the first place. Whether it’s a happy end or a broken heart is the main factor with which they would make their decision. There’s no answer to how the relationship in question goes because obviously it isn’t something anyone’s able to do. It’s just a song to say if they could, they would. But if the second verse is anything to go by, Hyde sings about “going through the roof” (getting very upset) when his lady makes sense, it may be fair to say that things could be going a little better.

#1217: Supergrass – Sitting Up Straight

Just over a month ago I was writing about a Supergrass song from I Should Coco, and now I find myself in the same situation. ‘Sitting Up Straight’ is another tune from the LP that I remember liking very much immediately. Coming right after preceding track ‘Strange Ones’, which alternates between upbeat, in-your-face pop rock for the choruses and bluesy-waltz timing for its verses, ‘Sitting Up Straight’ fixes the listener with the former all throughout its duration. It does start slowly to begin with, a loungy performance of what later makes itself known as the song’s chorus lulls you in, before things properly get underway after 20 seconds.

“Sitting up straight on the back of the bus / Mimicking time as evening turns to dusk” is the first lyric, it’s one that bass guitarist Mick Quinn admits to not knowing what it means. But it firmly places any listener in the scene. A narrator’s sitting at the back of a bus and listing the things they see and do. They make note of a boy with his “face on the floor” – a British saying, meaning he’s looking glum – before empathising with them in the joyous choruses where the guitars really come into life among some rapturous harmonies. That first chorus comes in with an entire different key to what the song initially set off with, begins in G before switching up to D I think, and remains in that until it all finishes.

I enjoy this one quite a bit actually. I see YouTube comments that read along the lines of “Yeah, the song’s good, but the chorus could be better”. Which… I can maybe kind of see. But I consider them to be the best part. As choruses usually are wont to be. But in general, the song’s very easy to get into. The previous track throws you in a few different directions. But with ‘Sitting Up’ you know where you stand. That is, at least, after 20 seconds of waiting. It’s like an “Enough of that, we know you want to hear more of this” kind of thing. That’s how I sort of see it. Plus, if you get the words down for the first verse and the chorus, no more work has to be done on your part because the second verse is the exact same. All in all, a fantastic punkish package of Britpop.

#1216: R.E.M. – Sitting Still

Time for another song from R.E.M.’s Murmur. It feels like I only ever write about tracks from that album on here. I swear, I do like a lot of other material by the band. Most of these numbers will be covered in posts that have yet to be written, and a lot of them I couldn’t write about because I only properly got into the band just over six years ago. And this blog is twice as old. But that “getting into” all began with a listen of Murmur, after which I found myself having a new favourite album on my hands.

‘Sitting Still’ is the eighth song on there. The song was released as the B-side on the ‘Radio Free Europe’ single, two years before Murmur was released. The version on Murmur is the same recording as that B-side, bar a few changes such as slowing the tape down, re-recording some backing vocals and Mike Mills laying down a new bass line for the track. The overall mix sounds a lot fuller too. I’ll go ahead and embed that original version below. In its place on the album, ‘Sitting Still’ carries on a theme already established by the time you get to it on the album: Michael Stipe sings but no one knows what he’s saying or what it truly means. But it sounds good nevertheless.

As the lyrics don’t really mean anything, and Michael Stipe can attest to that, there’s not much more I could say on that front. He utilises a great melody though. Simple but very effective. On the structural side of things, I appreciate how the song kind of rolls and unfurls again and again. The verse goes into the pre-chorus, which goes into the second verse before going into the pre-chorus and then into the “I can hear you” chorus before going into the third verse and so on and so forth. Mike Mills’s bass is quite addictive to hum along to, Peter Buck’s arpeggios scratch an itch, Bill Berry lays a tight beat underneath it all. Sometimes I think it must feel repetitive to some, I guess that’d be understandable. But to me it always feels good to hear this one when it comes on.

#1215: Noisettes – Sister Rosetta (Capture the Spirit)

Another Noisettes song beginning with ‘S’. Not so far after the last one too. Funny how it goes sometimes. You won’t write about a song by a band/artist for a long while, and then before you know it you’re writing about two in almost quick succession. The last one was ‘Scratch Your Name’, a fine, fine song, I’d advise you to listen and maybe read what I have to say about it. But now it’s time for ‘Sister Rosetta’ to shine. Like ‘Scratch Your Name’, ‘Sister Rosetta’ was another track from the band’s debut album to be chosen as a single. It got its own music video, which I’m sure I would have seen on the TV at some moment in time. I can’t remember watching it as much as the singles that came before. But when I did catch the video on those brief occasions, it was always a good time.

The track is an homage to American singer-songwriter Sister Rosetta Tharpe, who pretty much invented rock and roll. I wish my grandma was as cool as this. But more thoroughly, the lyrics explore the personality of a lady who frequently partakes in nights out in London with the song’s narrator. The narrator describes the good times they have together, making note of the synergy between the two characters, complementing each other “like Satan and Christ”, and I think the chorus sees the narrator wanting something more to happen in this relationship. What it is isn’t explicitly stated, but a capturing of the spirit must occur in order for the narrator’s questions to be answered. The verses are carried by an old-timey rock ‘n’ roll feel, suitably reflected by the swing dancing choreography in the video, before transitioning into the blistering punky choruses. They close out the song, just when things start to feel a little out of control, with singer Shingai Shoniwa bringing proceedings to a halt with a sudden shriek.

If you listen closely to the song via the video, you’ll hear that the rumbling noise at the song’s end sort of cuts out quite abruptly. That’s because, on What’s the Time Mr. Wolf?, the audio carries through right into the following track ‘Bridge to Canada’ – the first Noisettes song I wrote about on here so many years ago. Seeing as this is the last Noisettes song I’ll be writing about on here, it feels good to somehow tie them all together. Some people reading this may recognise ‘Sister Rosetta’ as a song that was featured in a Twilight film. It seems the track was re-recorded for its inclusion, and I have to say…. I don’t like it all that much. Sounds so much tamer in comparison to the original. But, you know, that’s just my opinion. Hear it out for yourself.