#1299: The Darkness – Stuck in a Rut

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And with this track right here, the end of The Darkness appearing on this blog is marked. We had a good run. There’s a small chance you’d have realised that all the songs by the band I’ve given my thoughts about are all from their 2003 debut album Permission to Land. That’s because I, at least, still have an amazing time listening through it. Plus, I’ve had it since I was eight or nine and the sentimental value’s very high. I’ve said in passing that The Darkness got me into rock music, and it’s the truth. That whole Permission to Land era… Songs like ‘I Believe in a Thing Called Love’, ‘Love Is Only a Feeling’, ‘Christmas Time (Don’t Let the Bells End)’. If it weren’t for them, I’d probably be casually listening to the UK Top 40. So thank God for The Darkness, honestly.

‘Stuck in a Rut’ is the seventh song on Permission to Land, starting on-beat straight after the song before it finishes. I have a good memory of listening to this one on my Playstation 2 a long, long time ago. Years later, I returned to it and found that the melody of the chorus had never left my head. The track is about a burning desire to get in a car of any kind and leave your hometown without looking back. Three of the original members of the band are from Lowestoft, a coastal town in the Southeast of England. I’ve never been there myself, but as Justin Hawkins refers to it as a ‘shithole’ and a ‘sty’, the negative reception doesn’t provide an incentive to go and visit. “Oh, kiss my arse, kiss my arse goodbye” is still a hilarious opening line to me, even though it’s meant in all seriousness. Hawkins uses the American pronunciation of “aluminium” in it too, which confused me when I was younger, but I can understand now because of the syllable numbers. And like all the other songs on the LP, he delivers his vocals with that trademark falsetto and high pitch that you could only imitate and never replicate.

Something I’ve noticed about this song is how much rawer in terms of production it sounds in comparison to the rest of the songs on Permission… While tracks like ‘Growing on Me’ or ‘Friday Night’ have these “big”, layered guitar elements to them. ‘…Rut’, on the other hand, sounds like it was a one-take performance captured live in the studio. The mix overall sounds a lot more closed in than usual, almost as if they’re playing in a small room. If that’s the case, I think it makes the track all that more impressive, especially when considering Hawkins’s vocal performance. Of course, there’s the high pitches and everything. But then there’s the insanity he captures in that adlibbed bridge where he begs his master to kill him, and the last “Yeah” in the song that faultlessly breaks into a whistle tone. It’s awesome, awesome stuff. A deep cut that’s always worth a listen. To me. But it could be to you as well.

#1298: U2 – Stuck in a Moment You Can’t Get Out Of

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1,298 songs in, and we reach the first U2 song. It’ll be the only one, though, sorry. There are people out there who despise the band, mostly because they don’t like Bono. Me? I don’t have anything massive against them. I’m neither here nor there. I can’t say I’m the biggest fan. But they do have some fine, fine songs. When I really started getting into alternative/rock music in about 2004, it was during a time when the video for ‘Vertigo’ was playing almost every day on MTV2. The How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb era. And nine-year-old me thought it was a cool song. So I can sort of thank U2 for getting me into the genre a little more. But today’s song isn’t from that era of the band. It’s from the one that preceded it a good four years earlier. In 2000, U2 returned from an experimental phase during the ’90s with a back-to-basics rock album in All That You Can’t Leave Behind, and ‘Stuck in a Moment You Can’t Get Out Of’ – the second song on there – was released as its second single in 2001.

And this is one of those occasions where I have a clear, clear memory of seeing its music video on TV during that time, even though I would have only been five years old. It was playing on The Box, which was kinda the mainstream UK pop music video channel of the time, and there was Bono on the TV screen rolling around on the floor over and over again. And because I was a child and still had years until my voice dropped, whenever I tried to sing, “Stuck in a moment and you can’t get out of it,” that “can’t get out of it” part was too low for my register. I didn’t have the diaphragm for it yet. For the longest time, in the back of my mind, I thought that if I was able to sing that phrase, it must have meant that the process of puberty had finally happened. I can gladly say at the age of 30, I can sing along to the track just fine. It wasn’t until a few years back that I revisited the song, gave it a few more listens with that core memory flashing in the brain and realized that I liked it a bunch.

Think it’s common knowledge that the track was written as a tribute to Michael Hutchence, a good friend of Bono’s, who was famously known for being the original lead singer for the rock band INXS. Hutchence passed away in 1997 through suicide, the action of which is kind of alluded to by Bono in the song’s bridge (“I was unconscious, half asleep” / “I wasn’t jumping, for me it was a fall” / “It’s a long way down to nothing at all”). Bono, saddened by what happened, wrote ‘Stuck in a Moment…’ as a things-he-wished-he-could-have-said song. He expresses his admiration for Hutchence and is still effected by him even with absence, but wishes he could have told him that whatever tough times he was going through, they would eventually pass and there was no need to feel so down. Guitarist The Edge also gets a moment on the lead vocal near the song’s end with the falsetto on the “And if the night runs over…” section. Though funnily, it gets pushed back into the mix to make way for Bono’s adlibbing. I like this one a lot. A track that reminds you to reach out to your friends in times of trouble. Or just on a frequent basis. ‘Cause you never know what could be happening.

#1297: Radiohead – Street Spirit (Fade Out)

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On Radiohead’s The Bends, there’s a theme about the fear of getting old that shows it’s face throughout the record. On ‘Bones’, Thom Yorke sings about not wanting to be “crippled and cracked”. On ‘Fake Plastic Trees’, he talks about gravity always winning in reference to aging women who went through plastic surgery in the 1980s. Thom Yorke would have been 25/26 when working on the lyrics for the songs that would make up The Bends. But even then, I think it’s fair to say he might have been going through some existential crisis of some kind at the time. I think as we all do when we get to that mid-20s period. And closing the album off is a song about a thing we all know is certain in life. Death. The track is ‘Street Spirit (Fade Out)’, one of the group’s most sombre numbers which also happens to be one of their most popular too.

When it comes to me, well, I think I first came to know about the song when its music video played on MTV2, or one of those alternative music video channels, back in the 2000s. In between 2003 – 2007, when the band were on a bit of a hiatus, a Radiohead music video showing up on those places was a regular occurrence. Probably because the band were known to have some of the coolest of those types of media. The video for ‘Street Spirit’, with the whole manipulation of time thing going on in its scenes, was cool to witness to the small kid I was at that time. Thought it was so cool, in fact, that I tried to find the video online, which in a pre-YouTube world was very hard to do. Can only imagine what it must have felt like seeing something like it in 1996, when the song was released as a single. The track may be one of the band’s darkest. But man, if it isn’t catchy in its own uniquely bleak way. When that opening, circular guitar riff gets going, it’s very hard to stop listening to everything else that follows.

In the first verse, Thom Yorke depicts an image of a helpless figure feeling closed in by the houses that surround them. The second sees him referring to a machine that can’t communicate “the thoughts and the strain [he’s under]”. This got me thinking, maybe he’s talking about his guitar. Maybe he was really going through some things at the time. Or maybe he’s taking a point of view of a general machine used by an employee somewhere. After which he suggests we unite and be people of the world before we all end up underground. And in the third verse, he brings up imagery of cracked eggs and dying birds screeching through their lasts breaths. I did mention this song was bleak, didn’t I? Despite all this, the music is extremely infectious. You’ve got the riff I talked about in the last paragraph, but then there are the “Ah-na-na” vocals during the instrumental breaks. And then there’s Yorke’s actual vocal take, which just soars over everything. He changed up the way he sang from OK Computer onwards, so to have that Pablo Honey/Bends era style finish on this track is a massive way to go out. All very morose, but a lot of people love it, including myself, to the point that, if given an opportunity, there will sing it even louder than Yorke at a live performance. Like in the one below.

#1296: Coldplay – Strawberry Swing

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It goes to show how much of a successful period 2008/09 was for Coldplay. Viva la Vida or Death and All His Friends had been released in June 2008. In September 2009, they were still releasing singles from the album. A whole other EP of cutting-room-floor material was released in between, and another single was released from that alone. Mind you, this September ’09 release would be the last single. This final offering I’m referring to is ‘Strawberry Swing’, the penultimate song on the record. It didn’t do very well in the UK charts. Probably because it got to the point where people were thinking there was just too much Coldplay exposure. ‘Viva la Vida’, the song, at the time, was everywhere. But the band were still churning that promotion out because they could. And the promotional cycle was capped off with a stunning, definitely time-consuming music video to boot.

When I got the album as a Christmas gift in 2008, a statement I make judging by the emailed list I sent my cousin in my old Hotmail/Outlook account, it was mainly because I wanted to have the ability to listen to ‘Violet Hill’ whenever I felt like it without going onto YouTube or waiting for the video on TV. I still think that’s one of the coolest songs Coldplay have ever done. I was thirteen, but still didn’t have that mental capacity to listen through entire albums and take the music in just yet. So I listened through Viva… once, picked out my favourites of ‘Violet Hill’ and the second title track, ripped it into the old iTunes library and let the album sit in there. It was until years later in 2013, when I was hungover and lying in bed after a heavy night out in my first year of uni, that I revisited the album and realised how great the whole package was. I’m one who thinks it’s still the best thing they’ve ever done. And hearing Strawberry Swing, with its production that makes it sound like it’s floating on air, made that hangover that little more bearable, but also made appreciate how good the song itself was.

I’ve come to think of the song as being one about the power of love in the face of adversity or conformity. It’s a bit of a hyperbolic way of saying it, but it’s the only way I could think of. You got the first verse where Chris Martin sings about a couple sitting on a strawberry swing, enamoured with each other while everyone else is for fighting. A reference to war, no doubt. Martin then ponders why we should follow the social norms when there’s an option to “curve away” and do things differently for a change. And then after a minor key change for the instrumental break, Martin then comes in for the coda ending with the closing lines, “Well, the sky could be blue / I don’t mind / Without you, it’s a waste of time”. Such a simple lyric, but it’s a beautiful sentiment. Enough to bring a tear to the eye at a right moment. Honestly, if the album ended on that note, I wouldn’t be mad. ‘Death and All His Friends’, the song, does a good job of an album closer anyway. ‘Violet Hill’ ends on a sad note. ‘Strawberry Swing’ brings that note right up with its optimistic viewpoint, filling the LP’s second-last slot with a moment of glory, when usually that place on an album is reserved for the black sheep of the collection.

#1295: The Rakes – Strasbourg

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Whoa, whoa, whoa. I haven’t written about The Rakes in a long, long time. One of my earliest posts for this series was for a song by the band. I give a brief bit of context on how I came to know the group in the two sentences that make up the second paragraph. And then I also give links to three other songs of theirs that I knew I would never be writing about. Had to leave you good readers waiting with a suspense lasting 12-and-a-bit years. But the moment has come. And no better way to mark the arrival than with an album opener. ‘Strasbourg’ is the first song on the band’s 2005 debut album Capture/Release. I, however, came to know the track through different circumstances. If you had a peek at one of the tags below, you may have already figured those circumstances out. And if not, it was because of FIFA 06. The song was on the soundtrack.

‘Strasbourg’ is a fiery, punky number, suitable to get any album off to an energetic start. First you hear some feedback, then the guitar gets going. The drums join in, followed by the bass. And then singer Alan Donohoe enters the frame after this calculated layer-by-layer introduction of instruments. The track details the trials and tribulations of a couple trying to flee 1980s Germany, when the Berlin Wall was still up and all of that business, for the French city of Strasbourg which is located pretty much on the border. I think the main highlight of the track is how it suddenly switches up a gear r two in energy and vigour during the choruses, in which Donohoe wails out “We’ll meet in Strasbourg” alongside backing vocals from guitarist Matthew Swinnerton. It’s like hell breaks loose for those moments before sanity’s regained for the more “conservative” verses. Great dynamic going on there.

And yeah, this track is another one of those sprinkled throughout this ongoing list that I was introduced to and grew accustomed to because of its inclusion on a video game’s playlist. Specifically one by EA Sports. ‘Strasbourg’ wasn’t the first song by The Rakes I’d ever heard. By the time of FIFA 06’s release, I’m sure I would have seen the music video for ’22 Grand Job’ on MTV2 multiple times. That’s one that’ll get its own post one day. So I definitely knew who The Rakes were. Just so happened that someone in the EA headquarters caught wind of the band and thought they were cool enough to add to the game. I do remember 10-year-old me attempting to sing along to this tune many a time. And I think I got nearly all the lyrics down, even the German ones. But again, like a lot of songs on FIFA, the track had gone through the censorship wringer. Alcohol references and obvious curses were either muted or replaced with cut-out phrases from other parts of the song, and the ending comes to an even more awkward sudden end than it does already on the album. This ‘clean’ version is below.