Category Archives: Music

#1327: Adrianne Lenker – symbol

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Counting down the days until the new Big Thief album arrives. Double Infinity. I’m very excited. ‘Incomprehensible’ came out in June. I liked it. I’m writing this post in June too, so another song might have been released as a single in the past couple months. I don’t know. I’m sure that one was good too. It’s funny to me how I probably wouldn’t have a clue who Big Thief or Adrianne Lenker were, or at least come to like their work as much as I do now, if I hadn’t been out-of-my-mind bored and unemployed in 2019. I found Abysskiss on an Indieheads thread on Reddit. Dug it, I think, almost immediately. And luckily enough that year, Big Thief decided to release two albums. The ball just continued to roll from there. The group are most likely one of my favourite bands out of the 2010s. Adrianne Lenker’s always got an interesting song up her sleeve. Her solo material’s just as wealthy in its quality. Abysskiss is still my favourite of hers, and ‘symbol’ has always been a highlight from there.

A lot of good things about ‘symbol’ I can relay to you. I think what first got to me about the track, trying to think six years ahead, was how Nick Drake-ish/Pink Moon-y the guitar picking sounded. And I’m a big fan of those two things, so I was a sucker for it already. Sort of reminded me of ‘Go to Sleep’ by Radiohead too. There’s an ominous tone to Lenker’s acoustic guitar, reinforced by the droning one-note melody she adopts for the verses. But then the key changes to a lighter note for the choruses. The weight is lifted, she sings about feeling good after seeing someone smile, and her vocal skips along the light percussion that pans all over the soundscape. It’s a little rinse-and-repeat. The lyrics of the second verse are the same as the first. But there are thousands of other songs that do the same. And it works well here too. Very well. As I write this, it’s become clear that Lenker does have something for the concept of ‘infinity’, as it’s mentioned in this song too. And then there’s ‘Spud Infinity’ from Dragon New Warm Mountain…. Cool to see. I also find it humorous that she snuck the term “FaceTime” into the song. I feel it must have been intentional in some way. I get a little kick out of it.

And as much as like the song, I still really don’t know what it’s about. I’m sure it’s about a bundle of different things. On the surface level, there’s love, there’s the passing of time and a connection between the two. Very vague on my part. Might even be completely wrong. Thankfully, Genius contains a quote from Lenker that makes things much more clearer. “Writing it helped me articulate the recognition of a very deep sense of home contained within the warmth of my loved ones and friends made visible in something as simple as a smile.” That’s sweet. And that’s not meant to sound condescending in any way. I feel that warmth all over in the song. I could sink into a bed listening to it. Or watch a sun going down. Either scenarios are favourable. And I like the video for the track too. Lenker walks down the boardwalk of Coney Island singing the track. There are cuts to families and randomers enjoying their day out. And everything finishes with a slo-mo firework display. Fantastic, heartwarming visuals. Just perfect for the music it accompanies.

#1326: Soundgarden – Switch Opens

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At the time of writing this, ‘Switch Opens’ is the second least played song from Soundgarden’s Down on the Upside on Spotify, only in front of the LP’s penultimate track, ‘An Unkind’. These two songs just so happen to be two of my favourites from it. When I was working in my first job out of uni in 2018, I had enough time during the day to go through artist’s discographies while I was behind the computer. I went through Soundgarden’s one week, and …the Upside became my favourite one by the band. So much so, I wrote a whole post dedicated to it. I’d had it on my own iTunes library, maybe since 2016 or something. But in 2018, I wasn’t in so much of a happy place, and I think the album suddenly made a ton of sense. The songs on there had much more of an impact than they did before. Hearing them on good loudspeakers probably helped too.

‘Switch Opens’ is one of the number of songs on the album where the music is written by bass guitarist Ben Shepherd with singer and guitarist Chris Cornell providing the lyrics. It’s a songwriting combination that works very, very well, with efforts like ‘Zero Chance’, ‘Never Named’ and ‘Dusty’ all coming out of it. The thing I like about ‘Switch Opens’ is how openly riffy it is. For lack of a better term. There’s the sort of circular chord progression going on during the verses, leading into the grungier, scaly riffs in the pre-choruses, then to the descending chords in the choruses before looping to those of the verses again. Ben Shepherd has a tendency incorporate these Indian-style qualities in his compositions, ‘Head Down’ and ‘Half’ from Superunknown being obvious examples. I’m a big fan of those two. They come through much more subtly on ‘Switch Opens’, and I’m all for it just the same.

As for Cornell’s lyrics, well, I still haven’t fully made up my own mind on his words. This guy from 20 years ago says it’s a song about change and bringing it about. When change occurs, the possibilities are endless. The switch is on. Those last two sentences are my own add-ons. But I’m all for that interpretation. There is a sense of optimism and wonder that I get from the tune. It’s the perfect mix of vocal and music to convey those sorts of feelings. Cornell sings it as only he could, very well, but also kind of wailing and droning in the verses and pre-choruses, before settling on a ‘Switch is on’ mantra that echoes around for the actual choruses. It’s a different delivery than the sheer power and grit he usually provides. It all works, though. I wonder how the band actually felt about the song. You can’t find a live performance anywhere online, which makes me think they at least thought it was okay, but nothing to be playing every night. Here’s a clip of drummer Matt Cameron singing/playing it on Seth Meyers years ago. That’s as close as we’ll get, I guess.

#1325: The Raconteurs – The Switch and the Spur

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Looks like I got some memories muddles up when recalling my experiences with The Raconteurs’ Consolers of the Lonely album. In the first post I wrote for a song on there, I specifically mention that I bought the CD myself. Then a few years later, I say I got it as a gift. “So which one is it?” I think I hear you ask. Well, I’m gonna go ahead and say it was probably the first one. The mind was fresher at 18 than it was at 27. And if that was the case, I want to say I bought it from a Woolworth’s store when those were still around. This all would have happened in 2008, very close to when the album was released. But it’s all a bit of a blur. That period in time when I was turning 13 is one that I have huge blanks on for some reason. Must have been all the hormonal changes that were happening. But I made a decision to get that album in that state, and it turned out to be a good one.

‘The Switch and the Spur’ is the fifth song on the album. When you get Consolers… up on Spotify, the first thing you’ll notice is that the number of listeners takes a considerable dip when compared to the track that comes before it. I guess the fact that ‘Old Enough’ was a single would play a part in that. But I can at least assure, ‘Switch and Spur’ is a cool track. I don’t think I’ve let you down so far with my musical recommendations. Brendan Benson takes lead vocals on the song, telling the story of an outlaw, on the run after breaking out of jail, in the setting of a Spaghetti Western. The man rides his horse through the desert, in the blistering heat, gets bitten by a snake and begins to hallucinate before eventually dying with his hands still on the reins of his four-legged companion. Then the narrative perspective changes from the third-person narrator telling the story to the first-person of, I think, the spirits of those who’ve also died in the area as they warn that whoever follows the path of the outlaw will face the same outcome. Or something along those lines. Dramatic stuff.

But the music of it all, man. Really helps in setting that tone of an old Western film of some kind. Starts off with that jubilant piano melody, that’s then mirrored by the shrill trumpet. A definite Mariachi feel that’s given off by the horns, I see a Mariachi band just playing in the desert when I hear it. Then the music gets all sneaky with the unified guitar and piano line during Benson’s verses, as he describes the scene as this outlaw rides the plains. The sections move between these two movements before, halfway through, the track suddenly doubles in tempo and the rhythms start to get a little busier. Jack White busts out a screeching solo on his guitar. There are a lot of things happening. It feels like everything’s constantly moving, pushing and pulling, you never quite know which direction the song will go. I think that’s what gets it going for me. So to stop myself from poorly describing what happens in the song from beginning to end, I’m gonna finish things here and let you listen for yourself.

#1324: R.E.M. – Sweetness Follows

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You know, I’ve been intently listening to R.E.M.’s ‘Sweetness Follows’ for a good seven years now. I thought I at least knew everything that was going on in the song. But when revisiting Michael Stipe and Mike Mills’ track-by-track analysis of Automatic for the People to help me write the post, I was surprised to hear that the fuzzy melody that plays in the centre channel – which I assumed was just a bass guitar of some kind – is actually produced by a cello. And I’ve watched that video before. I guess I just forgot. I’ve also heard cellos before. They’re usually known for their deep, resonant tones. Not the growling rumble that goes on through ‘Sweetness Follows’. But I’m not complaining. During that linked track-by-track recollection, Stipe recalls having a “eureka” moment when cellist Knox Chandler spontaneously played the opening notes you hear on the track. Those notes are looped for the majority of it. They definitely add a unique layer to the production.

‘Sweetness Follows’ is right in the middle of Automatic for the People, the first half closer if you have it on vinyl. And on an album that touches upon mortality and getting older, it’s only right that ‘Sweetness…’ arrives as the album’s centerpiece – seeing as it’s all about the sweet embrace of death and everything. Stipe, whose vocal take I really like on this one, by the way – sings about appreciating those fleeting moments we have in the relatively short amount of time we respectively have here on the planet. To not get wound up in all the drama that can happen because it all gets forgotten about eventually, and when we die, that’s when we get our peace. And we shouldn’t be sad about death because there’s the possibility that there’s something better that comes on the otherside. Sweetness follows. Unless you’re a staunch “When we die, that’s it” kind of person, then this song might not be the one for you. It might just also be about a family argument, according to this interpretation, so you could always lean on that too.

Like the other songs from Automatic… I’ve written about on here, I didn’t fully appreciate this one until I heard it played out loud on some good speakers at work in my first job out of uni. It’s all about the wide open spaces available in ‘Sweetness Follows’. There aren’t any drums in the song. No bass guitar either as we’ve already established. And the lack of a rhythm section greatly allows the textural elements within to flow and make their presence known. That organ in the left? Great. You can hear Peter Buck strumming away on his acoustic guitar in the back. It was his chord sequencing that got the whole track going in the first place. With this funereal mood going on, you wonder how things could change direction, and they do when those cathartic, wailing guitar feedback sections come in, enveloping the soundscape while Stipe and Mills vocalise in the midst of it all. A great number on a great album.

#1323: Jimmy Eat World – Sweetness

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Never much been into Jimmy Eat World, I’ve got to say. You’ve probably noticed yourself through the obvious lack of the band’s material on this website. The last time I wrote about a song of the band’s was in July 2013. I can’t remember the last time I listened to ‘Big Casino’, it has definitely been years. And funnily enough, looking at the post as I link it, I started it with the same sentiment as I started this one. That wasn’t meant to happen, I swear. So, yeah, their music videos played quite frequently on those music television channels. And young me thought the songs all sounded cool in their own respective ways. Never got round to listening to that full album though. And I probably should, I don’t think there’d be any harm in doing so. But which one, though… Well, ‘Sweetness’ is on Bleed American, so maybe I’ll go for that one first.

‘Sweetness’ is another tune of Jimmy Eat World’s that I got to really know through seeing its video on TV. But I feel like I would have heard it before. In an advert, in a movie. I’m not sure. But the first “Are you listening / WHOOA OH OH” lyric sounded familiar on that first time I saw the video, whenever that would have been. Out of all the Jimmy Eat World songs I became accustomed to through their videos, ‘Sweetness’ is the one that’s had the longest staying power with me. Once singer/guitarist Jimmy Adkins blurts out that first line, the song doesn’t let up in its driving energy until the final chord is struck. Sure, there are the moments when the guitars and drums drop out so Adkins can sing certain lines here and there, but even then you still feel that momentum running. The instruments come back in and hit emphatically each time. Then when the band are properly allowed to play together for a length of time beginning with the “I was spinning free…” section, it brings about a feeling of wanting to run without stopping. It’s a good song.

I don’t know if there’s an agreed consensus on what the track’s about. Having had to think about an interpretation in preparation for this, I see it as an actual address from Adkins to Jimmy Eat World fans. Particularly for the people who go to their shows. The opening lines are self-explanatory. The unwinding tether might refer to that feeling of letting your inhibitions go when at at a live show and dancing, doing whatever you like. And the “spinning free with a sweet and simple numbing me” refers to Adkins letting go himself when he’s performing live and losing control of his limbs when playing the guitar. “Tell me what do I need when words lose their meaning”… I don’t know, I guess referring to those who hear the music and sing along without really considering the lyrics? And then the rest is lost on me. But that’s at least my take. Not so much a love letter to fans, but one that’s saying have fun with us but also don’t try and get too close. Am I wrong? Maybe. But I gave it a go. I still think the music matters the most. And I like the music a lot.