Tag Archives: 13

#937: Pixies – No. 13 Baby

You go onto YouTube and search for this song. The majority of the comments go along the lines of “Man, this song’s good, but the ending though? Human perfection. Best endings of all time,” etcetera, etcetera. And, yeah, the song’s outro is quite special. But the rest of the song ain’t too bad. Black Francis/Frank Black sings with the usual unhinged style of vocal delivery, working well with the song’s theme of a stalker-like fascination with a lady. He describes the characteristics of this subject like some sort of mad scientist looking for another experiment, it’s quite menacing. The obsession is too much, as made clear in the “I’m in a state” repetition, and its seemingly never-ending fade-out ending signifies the endlessness of the situation. At least that’s how I like to think of it.

Doolittle is an album of subtle surprises. The lone guitar chord strum at the beginning of this one is just a small taste. But generally there will be elements of a certain track that you wouldn’t pick up on the first time, but after a number of listens make themselves more and more apparent. Like on ’13 Baby’, I never took into account how the verses are made of one chord that doesn’t progress into another until the choruses. Or how bassist Kim Deal just stops playing at certain points to highlight those bending guitar wails at various points. There’s also a subliminal shout-out during the choruses to a Los Angeles gang that was active around the time of the album’s making. The way it’s incorporated into them is real sneaky, once you get the melody and the words down you’ll barely know your singing it.

What’s peculiar about this track though is that the vocals are out of there after two minutes. The rest of the track is essentially its ending, what a lot of people love about it, consisting of a slow building of layers. Kim Deal and drummer David Lovering keep the track steady with the rhythm alongside Francis’ acoustic guitar. After a few measures, lead guitarist Joey Santiago rushes in with a frantic guitar fill. After that fades out, he re-enters with a dreamy arpeggiated chord that goes on and on before being drowned out by a wild rhythm guitar from Francis that sounds like it’s being strangled its chords are strummed. It’s all so hypnotizing up to that point, then that guitar adds a bit of nightmare fuel to the proceedings. It’s creepy, it’s sneaky, it all sounds so good. Pixies were very good at getting those things down.

#926: Blur – No Distance Left to Run

Damon Albarn and former Elastica frontwoman Justine Frischmann were sometimes labelled the ‘King and Queen of Britpop’ during that time in the ’90s when that whole movement was happening. They were a couple through and through until they broke up in 1998, leaving Albarn traumatised and incredibly bummed out by the ordeal. The fallout of that, plus a dependence on heroin and straining relationships within Blur resulted in 13, the group’s most experimental album, possibly their most sonically adventurous too. It truly goes off the deep end about four songs in and onward. So when ‘No Distance Left to Run’ comes in as the record’s penultimate track, it enforces a sound of band that really has nothing left to give.

The song has to go down as one of the saddest in Blur’s catalogue. It’s about the dreadful realisation that a relationship’s over, one that a lot of years went into with a lot of heart, and tearfully wishing the other person all the best with someone else while you’re all alone and left wanting to die. I may have exaggerated a little bit on that last point. But it’s clear that Albarn wasn’t in the greatest of places while recording this. His trembling vocal take alongside Graham Coxon’s weeping guitar are the highlights throughout. In the band’s 2010 documentary, named after this track as a matter of fact, Coxon mentions that Albarn never told the bandmates what was going on, but it was quite obvious that things weren’t good. So he tried to make a riff and some chord progressions that would match whatever words Albarn wrote down. Fair to say he does them justice. I do particularly like the spacey instrumental in the middle, with those twinkling keys that pan from left to right alongside those smooth ‘ooh’ vocals. I thought it was a choir doing them, but I upon further research it seems they are done by Albarn and Coxon, or Albarn double-tracked. Whatever way, it’s good listening.

I wasn’t properly living around the time of this album’s release or thereafter. Would have been very young at the time. But looking back as a Blur fan and reading up on stuff, ‘No Distance Left to Run’ could very much have been the band’s last track on an album. One on which there’s singing anyway. Going into the new century, it seemed that the group wasn’t sure where to go, releasing a ‘Best Of’ compilation. Then Damon Albarn put more focus on Gorillaz, and forged a whole other path of success. But thankfully that wasn’t the case, and two more Blur albums were made. Let’s hope there’s another soon.

#825: Blur – Mellow Song

13 is one of my favourite albums of all time. Definitely one of my Desert Island Discs if that programme asked you to list what records you would take if you were in that situation. Even I feel exhausted after listening through the 66 minutes the thing lasts for. Could you imagine how the band members felt making this? Well, it’s documented that individually they weren’t having the greatest of times leading up to and during the making of the album. Damon Albarn had broken up with his long-term girlfriend Justine Frischmann of Elastica and was somewhat hooked on heroin, Graham Coxon was drinking and angry at the world, people were fighting, not turning up to sessions. Sounds tense. But they still came out with this masterpiece. That’s right, I said it.

‘Mellow Song’ is what it says it is. It’s a four minute break from the chaos and disorienting noise that surrounds it, even though it kicks up a bit during its instrumental outro. The first half of it has Damon Albarn singing in his dulcet tones. I think it’s capturing him in the aftermath of his break-up. All he does is spend time in bed, hungover, taking drugs, or making music. And this is him singing about it in a sort of surreal and poetic way. He plays these arpeggiated notes on the acoustic guitar that move up and down the fretboard accompanied by these twinkling/ghostly keyboards and when he sings the last “We’ll see”, the song transforms into this trippy, bass-heavy instrumental jam. Like I said, it is a nice… wouldn’t say relaxing, but it’s something you can really get lost in with the right state of mind.

The instrumental jam has a lot of musical goodness too. Coxon plays this four note pattern that repeats and repeats while Albarn plays a melodica solo. A guitar overdub where Coxon plays these random notes and bends takes over as a harpsichord suddenly appears in the right hand side. There are clips of Albarn laughing or crying (I’m not sure which) buried in there too. It all goes on and on until it all sort of fizzles out and comes to a stop with a lo-fi recording of Albarn laughing. It sounds better in the context of the whole album because the next starts suddenly right after that. 13‘s great. If only I could have written about ‘Battle’.

My iPod #197: Blur – Coffee & TV

 

“Coffee & TV” is a track by Blur from the band’s sixth album “13”. It was written and sung by guitarist Graham Coxon, who is joined by Damon Albarn in the chorus.

I’ve known this song for a long time, even though I didn’t listen to all of Blur’s discography until earlier this year. That’s only because it was a single, and a lot of people know it for its memorable video directed by Hammer & Tongs.

I can’t really listen to this song without thinking about that milk carton. The music video has nothing to do with the message of the song, which is more about wanting to break away from uncomfortable social situations and living the simple life without any worries, but it just fits. I couldn’t imagine the song having any other video.

Did you know that the solo in the song wasn’t even meant to be in the final version of the song? Apparently it was a placeholder until Coxon could think of something better, but it just got to the point where they couldn’t because it was too late. That’s a good thing to bear in mind.

Enjoy.