Category Archives: Music

#722: Arctic Monkeys – Leave Before the Lights Come On

I don’t think there wasn’t a time in 2006 when Arctic Monkeys weren’t on everyone’s lips. The band released Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not in January of that year after months of online hype, remarkable live performances and two #1 singles to their name. It became the fastest selling debut album in UK chart history. Everyone loved them. They released an EP a few months later which didn’t chart but included some songs that they had recorded in the meantime. Then their original bassist Andy Nicholson left and was replaced by Nick O’Malley who still plays with them today.

Their first single with O’Malley on board was ‘Leave Before the Lights Come On’, a track recorded way after the band’s debut album was done but one that Alex Turner stated could have been on the record because it followed similar themes that many of the album tracks had. I was eleven years old when this track was released. 2006 was one of the greatest times of my life. World Cup ’06, last year of primary school, it was a good summer. I remember ‘Leave Before the Lights” video making its rounds on MTV2 UK on the daily. That’s how I got to know the song. A woman gets a man’s attention by looking like she’s about to jump off a building. The man ‘saves’ her, she gets a bit too attached to him, he gets angry at her, and then she runs back to the building where she sees drummer Matt Helders walking past. The cycle continues. It’s more a little film accompanying the music than your standard band performance.

Very similar to the songs on Whatever People Say, particularly ‘From Ritz to the Rubble’, ‘Leave Before the Lights’ is the song that exploring the mix of feelings that may arise the morning after a one night stand. “How did I get here?” “She didn’t look like that last night…” “I should probably get out of here quickly.” Among others. It’s classic Alex Turner observational lyricism that he was especially good at in that early era of the band. I also feel it’s one of the group’s best musical performances from that time too. Both Turner and Jamie Cook’s guitars interlock with one another, Turner will play some guitar fills while Cook plays rhythm and vice versa, Matt Helders keeps a strong hold on the drums and O’Malley fits into the group dynamic like a glove straight away. The song’s ending instrumental breakdown is one of the best musical moments by the band in their discography, I think.

It was the first single of theirs that didn’t get to #1 in the UK charts. It peaked at #4. And for a song that doesn’t appear on an album of theirs, I think it still holds up very well today.

#721: R.E.M. – Leave

An absolute mammoth of a track, ‘Leave’ can be found on R.E.M.’s New Adventures in Hi-Fi album released back in 1996. The song is the longest composition the band ever committed to tape and is placed bang in the middle of their longest album. I see it as the record’s centrepiece, delivered with a ferocity and sense of urgency that makes me just a bit anxious when listening to it. That siren synthesizer that blares throughout doesn’t help alleviate that tension much either. There’s something very cinematic about it that I really like though. Sounds like the end credits track to a bleak action film. At least that’s how I feel.

The track is recognised as being of the last noteworthy songwriting contributions by original drummer Bill Berry before he left the group in 1997 to become a farmer. He came up with the five note riff that the whole track depends on and plays the acoustic guitar in the introduction. It’s after that intro that the song proper begins with a booming thwack of the snare and the aforementioned siren. I feel it’s worth mentioning that the track is essentially a live performance recorded at a soundcheck during their Monster tour so you can properly hear the reverberations of each instrument and Michael Stipe’s vocals around the room. Peter Buck messes up the lick for a brief moment near the end, the band comes in a bit late when coming close to the finish, and for a split second you can hear someone yell ‘wow’ at the performance right in the last second – and it’s all these little rough moments that show just how much effort and energy each member was putting in.

Michael Stipe reportedly didn’t like the way his voice sounded on the final release so this alternate/remix version (below) was made at some point and made available on the bonus disc for the band’s In Time compilation. I’ll stick with the version from Hi-Fi.

Just speaking on Hi-Fi for a brief moment, I would say it’s my third(?) favourite of R.E.M.’s. I’ve come to really like songs from that album well after I started this blog; unfortunately I can’t write about ‘Electrolite’, ‘Be Mine’, ‘E-Bow the Letter’, or ‘How the West Was Won and Where It Got Us’. There’s a lot of content that could’ve been. The post on ‘New Test Leper’ should be good though.

#720: Foo Fighters – Learn to Fly

I don’t have as much an emotional connection or a real personal link to this song that I could properly get into. Not saying that it couldn’t have one for any of you reading. Never read the lyrics, but have always been attracted to the sound and the melodies ‘n’ all. It’s very nice. ‘Nice’ is normally considered to be the worst adjective to describe anything. That’s what it is though, a really nice song. And apparently Dave Grohl didn’t think it had any potential as a single when they completed the track.

The video for ‘Learn to Fly’ would show up on TV every once in a while, and it was through those viewings that I got into the song. It’s one of those music videos that I feel enhance the listening experience. It’s hilarious too. The guys from Tenacious D sneak some sleeping powder onto an airplane which gets mixed up with the pilot’s coffee supply and the Foo Fighter members take over the flight and save the day. It’s much better when you actually see it though.

Foo Fighters aren’t one of my favourite bands; their debut album is my go-to whenever I want a full playthrough experience. I don’t know what that says about me. They undeniably have some great songs, this being one of them. ‘Learn to Fly’ is from their third There Is Nothing Left to Lose from 1999.

#719: Animal Collective – Leaf House

In previous posts I’ve mentioned here and there that there have been certain bands who were essentially the soundtrack to a year in my life. The Beatles were 2009/10. The Who were 2010/11. Well, Animal Collective covered my first year of university – 2013/14 for anyone invested. Sung Tongs was the third album of theirs that I got around to listening to, following Merriweather Post Pavilion and Strawberry Jam. It took a few listens for both to set in, but once they did they became two of my new favourite albums very quickly. Why I chose Sung Tongs next I’m not too sure but I was certainly interested as to what it would sound like.

‘Leaf House’ is the weird, mysterious but captivating and attention-grabbing opening to Sung Tongs; there definitely isn’t any other album opener that’s quite like it. A distorted whirring sound opens the track before suddenly jerking into the song’s main rhythm, formed by booming tom-toms, jumping acoustic guitars and bouncing vocals between David Portner (Avey Tare) and Noah Lennox (Panda Bear) that come frequently throughout the whole album. Despite it not being a typical 4-on-the-floor toe tapper, the herky-jerky percussion alongside the general warm tone of the track can send me into a trance if I’m really focusing on the music.

For a long time fans theorised that the track was influenced by the novel House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski, due to them both sharing themes of cats and a man who doesn’t go outside much. Portner revealed it was more about Lennox’s childhood house, with some lyrics written in regards to the passing of Lennox’s father. It’s quite a sad song when looking into it but some of that tension is alleviated by the “kitties” outro. Is it strange? For some first time listeners it could be considered to be. But once you get it, it never leaves.

#718: The Futureheads – Le Garage

The debut album by The Futureheads is one I’ve owned for a very long time. I was 9 almost turning 10, was in Tesco, sure the CD on the shelf, asked my mum if I could have it, she asked “Do I like them?”, I replied “Yes.”, and to my surprise she put it in the trolley. The band were shown frequently on MTV2 back in those days even though I’m sure I had only seen the videos for ‘Decent Days and Nights’ and ‘Hounds of Love’ by that point. I didn’t know how the rest of their material would go.

So to start the record off is ‘Le Garage’, a song which to this day I don’t really have any idea on what it could be about. Despite that, when those twinkling guitars faded in and the “do-do-aah” vocals came in I was hooked instantly. Singer and guitarist Barry Hyde starts yelping away in that Northern tone of his for the first verse, and then the song just launches off from there. Backing vocals enter the frame at various points overlapping Hyde’s vocals and repeating what he saying with no restraint, the guitars sound messy and there’s not much melody from them except this one note that’s endlessly locked in. It’s quite the rush, never letting up, and when you think it’s about to really get into its stride it comes to a sudden stop.

I’ve found that there are some songs that begin an album that I can never listen to by themselves; they never sound as good without the rest of the album following them. ‘Le Garage’ doesn’t come under that category. Not for me.