#1245: The La’s – Son of a Gun

The shimmering notes from an acoustic guitar are the first things you hear if you were to press play/lay the needle on the record after obtaining The La’s self-titled/debut/only album from 1990. First time I heard ‘Son of a Gun’ the opening reminded me of Rusted Root’s ‘Send Me on My Way’, even if though that song was released some years after. Maybe there’s some influence there, I don’t know. But it goes to show, if you can get the right tone on the strings of an acoustic guitar, people will start falling at your feet. Even before Lee Mavers started singing, I was really into the rhythm and the sound of that sole acoustic, so even when he did, I was already under its spell.

“If you want, I’ll sell you a life story” are the first words Mavers delivers on the microphone, and that’s what ‘Son of a Gun’ is. It’s a tale about a man who lives with his demons, but also recognises that he’s not like a lot of other people out there and takes great pride in that aspect. With Lee Mavers being the ever elusive, reclusive man he is, I think ‘Son of a Gun’ is the one song by him that provides an insight into how the guy felt about life. There might be another La’s tune that does it better, please direct me to it. But for me, it’s the clearest ‘song about myself under the guise of someone else’ that I can think of right now as I’m writing to you. Lifts the haze on that sense of mystique, which I think is quite cool.

Lee Mavers didn’t like the sound of The La’s when the album eventually came out in 1990. The band had spent a couple years trying to get the album down, but Mavers was never happy with any of the results. There are many different versions of the songs from the record that you’ll be able to find online. Personally, I think the final version we all know mixed and produced by Steve Lillywhite showcased the best treatment any of those tracks got as recordings. It is interesting to hear other producers’ takes though. ‘Son of a Gun’ by Mike Hedges is in a higher key, utlises more electric guitar and has a bounce to it via added bass drum. A John Porter version has a monoaural mix. I could go through them all. It’s a lot to explore.

#1244: Hot Club de Paris – Sometimesitsbetternottostickbitsofeachotherineachotherforeachother

‘Sometimes It’s Better Not to Stick Bits of Each Other in Each Other for Each Other’ was the first single released by Hot Club de Paris in the good days of 2006. One of the longest titles for a song that I’ve come across. It’s officially stylized as one word, according to the album packaging, so I’ve gone ahead and labelled it that way too. But when I first became aware of the track, when its video showed up out of the blue on MTV2 one day, the little notice that showed the artist/song name had it under the name ‘Sometimes It’s Better’. And that’s how I knew it until I was told otherwise. It was the first song by the band I heard by them. It’s the last time they’ll appear in this series thing.

What I like about this song is it doesn’t really have any verses. Maybe one. But the rest is all hooks and choruses and instrumental breakdowns. All jumped-up like and erratic, delivered in just over two minutes. I’m all for it. Hot Club de Paris have a little math rock thing going in their music, and that’s all present here. From what I can tell, the intro is in 11/8, the drummer calls out “9, 10” to bring the guitarists out of the short break, the choruses are in 4/4, and then the verse and instrumental break are in 6/8. Time signatures all over the gaff. But while the rhythms are shifting, the lyrical content is compact and direct and usually repetitive. The way it’s all sung and performed makes it a very memorable one for sure.

As to what the song’s about, your guess is as good as mine. I don’t think it’s really about anything. Seems to me like it was a product of getting some phrases down and setting them against the bustling music. And there’s nothing wrong with that, loads of other people do it too. It sounds good to me, so I’m not complaining. When the track was released on the band’s debut album, listeners were surprised with the inclusion of an additional outro added to the song. Alongside a 5/8 guitar lick, the band harmonise “All the way, away, away” until it fades out. It’s a nice thing going on there. I think it’s to do with the fact that it’s the last track on the first side of the album if you had it on vinyl, so it’s a bit of a goodbye moment before flipping the record over for side 2. I listen to the single version which omits all that, but it’s cool to have the option.

#1243: Supergrass – Sometimes I Make You Sad

In It for the Money is my favourite Supergrass album. I may have said that before in the posts for other songs from there. There’s no sort of concept you have to dig your brain into, or any kind of lyrical themes to take mind of. The record is just song after song of unforgettable bangers. Bangers with some slower tunes in between. …Money is grander in scale in comparison to I Should Coco, which was released a couple years prior, marked by a bigger production and a use of a wider variety of instrumentation, whilst still containing a lot of the playfulness and memorable melodies that endeared Supergrass to so many in the first place. Its final track, ‘Sometimes I Make You Sad’, is very playful and however stranger it may sound in comparison to the songs that come before it, it acts as the perfect way to bring the album to a close.

The track preceding ‘Sometimes…’ ends with this slow fade out of the band jamming. A few moments of silence arrive. Then ‘Sometimes…’ starts and you’re greeted with a gloomy Hammond organ and a beatbox loop performed by members of the band which apparently took a couple of hours to properly get down. The scary-circus ‘Benefit of Mr. Kite’ vibe the song has going for it wasn’t something I expected on that first time of listening, I tell you. But underneath the spooky atmosphere is a something of a motivational song, telling you to do what you like, go out into the world and explore. The ‘motivational’ part is somewhat negated though as the lyrics make sure to tell us that whatever you do, no one really cares all that much and there’s nothing out there that’s all that exciting anyway.

For the longest time, I assumed that bass guitarist Mick Quinn was the lead vocalist of the track. It obviously wasn’t Gaz Coombes, and Quinn does sometimes take the lead in a few Supergrass songs. But that assumption was laid to rest when, during a Twitter “album listening party” in the COVID times, Quinn mentioned that it was drummer Danny Goffey who sung the song, after a quick trip to the pub. So it turned out ‘Ghost of a Friend’ wasn’t the only Supergrass he was the lead on after all. The reason his voice is so high is because, and I’m guessing here, he recorded it while the track was playing at a slower speed, so when sped up it sounds like he ingested some helium before performing. That is the reason the guitar solo also sounds all spindly like it does. So why not apply the same technique for the voice? Thanks to the remastered deluxe edition that came out in ’21, I can now embed some moments that look into the making of the track. More specifically, the creation of the beatbox loop and Goffey’s guide vocal. Both comical in their own ways.

#1242: Super Furry Animals – Something 4 the Weekend

Shame to say, or maybe it isn’t (depends how you feel about Super Furry Animals), but ‘Something 4 the Weekend’ will be the only representative from the Welsh band’s debut album Fuzzy Logic. I heard that album for the first time in 2014, but didn’t really hear it, if you know what I mean. I got my first job out of uni a few years later, but found that there was a lot of downtime the majority of the time. So I went ahead and choose to listen to SFA’s discography from beginning to end. ‘Something 4 the Weekend’ was the only song on Fuzzy Logic that I really liked. The LP’s a strong start to a catalogue. But their albums got stronger as they went along. ‘Least to these ears.

Sounds to me like this is a song about taking too many drugs. Actually, maybe not about taking too many, but just about them in general. Singer and guitarist Gruff Rhys also mentioned it was about sex too. What time is the best for those two vices? The weekend, obviously, hence the title. I’m sure there’s a quote that verifies that hypothesis somewhere. The song’s first verse details the narrator’s increasing usage of drugs (“stuck it on the back of my tongue and then swallowed it”), the second covers the sex part (“stuck it right up and that was the end of it”), and the chorus is where the narrator tells us that he’s always thinking about the two things with the aid of an easy, memorable melody. Also, you may notice that Gruff Rhys has this thing where where he pronounces words like “getting” as “gerring”. That’s not something he can help. He’s just very Welsh.

I then went on to find that this song wasn’t originally recorded this way. On initial copies of Fuzzy Logic, the song was titled ‘Something for the Weekend’. It’s essentially the same track, but faster in delivery, somewhat rawer in production and had a different intro. I’m going to hazard a guess that it was a record company decision that led to the re-recording of the tune, to make it something easier to play on the radio or whatever. You know how those businesses go. But on this occasion, I’d probably agree that it was the right choice. The song got released as ‘Something 4 the Weekend’ name, charted within the top 20 of the UK singles chart, and the ‘new’ single version eventually went on to replace the original when later copies of the album were sold. That original’s out there, though. Right below this paragraph, actually. You might like that version more. There’s no going wrong.

#1241: They Might Be Giants – Someone Keeps Moving My Chair

‘Someone Keeps Moving My Chair’ opens up the second half of They Might Be Giants’ album Flood, their brand-new record for 1990. My honest opinion, out of the first four LPs by the band featuring just the two Johns playing everything bar the rhythm section, Flood is maybe my least favourite. But it’s still really, really good. I just happen to like fewer songs from there compared to those from the other three. But when the songs are great on Flood, they’re instantaneous likes. At least they were to me, as was the case for today’s song in the hot seat.

‘…My Chair’ is a John Linnell-led TMBG composition and, in his words, “notes the exaggerated importance of petty concerns when everything else is going haywire.” And to lay this notion out, the song is a tale about a Mr. Horrible who seems to be idly going about his day while unnamed characters are desperately trying to get him to talk to ‘the ugliness men’ who are the phone. These no-names are intentionally attempting to annoy Mr. Horrible, being all up in his face, asking him a bunch of inane questions. But their antics are of no matter to Mr. Horrible, because the thing that’s really on his mind and taking up his time is that somebody insists on moving his chair behind his back. And there’s the ‘petty concern’ Linnell refers to.

The tune’s a lively, upbeat number, featuring one of John Linnell’s more nasally vocal performances which add so much character to the proceedings. The words and delivery wouldn’t hit as hard without that aspect of his voice. Same for all the others songs he takes the lead on. There’s something about those opening keyboard chords that make the track sound fixed in its time. Reminds me of some backing music to a ’90s shopping mall advert or montage in a TV show. I’m convinced that the guitar rundown during the “Mr. Horrible says I don’t mind…” part is lifted from Bruce Springsteen’s ‘Thunder Road’. But that doesn’t affect my enthusiasm for the song. You get the melody and the quality, all in a matter of 2-and-a-half minutes. It’s a good time.