Tag Archives: a

#1248: Queens of the Stone Age – A Song for the Deaf

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So, I didn’t realise this until getting ready to type this out, but depending on whatever copy of Songs for the Deaf you have, this song’s either listed as ‘Song for the Deaf’ or ‘A Song for the Deaf’ on the tracklist. Same going for the ‘Dead’ song too. Just think that’s mildly interesting. All this time, I’ve been used to listing both with ‘A’ at the beginning in the various music libraries and stuff, and so I thought Spotify were just being lazy. They’re both correct. But being set in my ways, I’m not changing the title for anything, so the ‘A’ is staying. The big climactic finish to Songs for the Deaf, the almost title-track takes the listener through the final leg of the trip through the California desert, which the whole radio concept of the record is built around. It’s not necessarily a happy end. Things take a very dark and gloomy turn here. Does the driver even make it to the end of the journey? I think it’s up in the air.

The song’s a twisted waltz, its tempo set out by the menacing bass riff that’s then continued on by Josh Homme’s guitars. Written by both Homme and Mark Lanegan, the song’s a showcase of the contrast between two’s vocal styles – the smoother tones of the former mixed with the deeper, gravelly sounds of the latter – and I think it’s very suitable that the last big vocal contributions we hear from Nick Oliveri before he was fired from the band are the manic and hysterical screams that pan from side to side in the bridge before the final chorus. It may have the least plays out of all the songs on the album, at least on Spotify – and by quite a large margin too, I don’t understand – but I think the track exhibits one of the best performances by the band on the entire LP. There’s a reason why people think of the Homme – Oliveri – Lanegan – Grohl line-up of Queens as the golden era of the group, and this song is just of one many of them.

First time I heard Songs for the Deaf in full, I was in primary school and a friend of my sister’s loaned the album to her. The tracks were playing out of the loudspeaker in the living room. It wasn’t very active listening on my part, but I think I was about 10 so cut me some slack. But the very vivid memory I have of the experience was hearing the guitars at the end of ‘A Song of the Deaf’ all kind of feeding back in that wall of noise before it sounds like their souls are taken from them with a ghostly echo. Me and my sister looked at each other, both sort of stunned, and all she said was “Whoa.” We hadn’t heard anything like it before. Since then I’ve always thought of this track as the one with the spooky ending.

#1245: The La’s – Son of a Gun

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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.

#1193: The Beatles – She’s a Woman

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I inadvertently ended up hearing The Beatles’ ‘She’s a Woman’ by listening to an entirely different song of theirs. When the video for ‘The Night Before’ was playing on VH1 Classic, there was a little moment during it where the action is taken away from the band momentarily and switching to a random character who is somewhere underground and listening to another Beatles song on the radio. Then the scene changes to the band playing the original song as normal. That other song was ‘She’s a Woman’. However long it took me to get to hearing it in full is a duration of time that I can’t remember. My old, old computer would probably still show the original date and time I downloaded the Past Masters compilation it can be found on. I could get back to you on that with a definite answer.

‘She’s a Woman’ was recorded during the time the sessions that would result in the band’s Beatles for Sale album. Released in the December of 1964, it was the second LP of theirs to be given to the masses that year after having unveiled A Hard Day’s Night five months prior. From what I’ve seen, …for Sale isn’t considered to be one of the band’s best works. Mainly because of a reliance on cover material, a result of the constant touring and lack of time John Lennon and Paul McCartney had to write anything original. But even when they did, they ended up with songs like this. Although credited under the usual ‘Lennon-McCartney’ tag, ‘She’s a Woman’ was fully written by the latter and was conceived as an idea in McCartney’s head, demonstrated to the other three members and completed as a Beatles recording all in one day. It was eventually released as the B-Side to Lennon’s ‘I Feel Fine’, when that was chosen to be the standalone single preceding the album’s release.

The track contains one of the most-disliked rhymes to be found in any Beatles song. At least from the opinions I’ve seen on Reddit. People can’t seem to stand the ‘presents/peasant’ occurrence in the first two lines. That’s usually followed by another user talking about what ‘peasant’ meant during the ’60s. And I look on and laugh because I couldn’t really care less about it. I guess it’s an obvious rhyme. But there aren’t many “smart” rhymes you can get to follow ‘presents’. But anyway, I’ve always considered it to be a very solid song. Got a nice groove to it with John Lennon providing those rhythm guitar stabs on the upbeat. Contains some nice little piano fills by McCartney that echo the vocal melody. And he sings in a completely different way than you’ll find he usually does in other songs. Sounds like an entirely different person almost. You could probably say the song’s portrays some dated opinions in regards to how women treat men in a relationship perhaps? It’s a product of its time, though. I wouldn’t stop listening to it.

#1192: Wilco – She’s a Jar

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Wilco’s Summerteeth was the second of the band’s that I listened to in full. Besteveralbums.com showed that Yankee Hotel Foxtrot was considered to be the group’s best work, and when I’d heard that and grown familiar with it, the logical step was to move onto the record that was apparently considered to be their next best. Think it was a couple of years or so between Yankee and Summerteeth that I decided to listen to the latter. For what reason, I don’t know. Things just get in the way to prevent you from listening to albums on the regular. But I distinctly remember doing so when I was interning at a music magazine in 2015/16. It was in either of those two years. And I think ‘She’s a Jar’, the second song on the album, was one that I liked quite a bit after only the first hearing.

Coming after the somewhat groovy and spirited opener of ‘Can’t Stand It’, a song I would have written about had I known it at the time the C’s were going on. ‘Candyfloss’ too, while we’re at it. ‘She’s a Jar’ brings the album into a more reflective, slower mood. To this day I haven’t got my head around the lyrics all too well, but from what I can gather it’s from the perspective of someone in a relationship who’s essentially laying down an examination of their other half to the listener. A lot of lyrical metaphors are in there, so it’s difficult to properly suss out. At least to me. And there’s generally many words in there to remember. And I think to compensate for that, the song has something of a very easy structure that it keeps to. Each verse almost runs into the next, utilising the same vocal melody over a three-chord progression, before that eventually changes up for the “Just climb aboard” choruses that are capped off with a memorable harmonica “solo”.

And while the musicality of the track may be considered to be quite easily understood, multi-instrumentalist Jay Bennett’s work on the keyboards and Mellotron is a different conversation. While Jeff Tweedy, John Stiratt and Ken Coomer lay down the song’s foundation, Bennett’s magic on the keys is the highlight, very much taking the majority of the soundscape filling in the would-be empty spaces with fills and melodic riffs that take the proceedings to another level. The song’s also known for its ending in which the song’s first verse is repeated but with the devastating switch-up on the very last line. “She begs me not to miss her” all of a sudden becomes “She begs me not to hit her”. It’s a bit of a “Hold up, what?” moment, for sure. But Jeff Tweedy once said we should consider that it isn’t actually the narrator enacting the physical violence. I can get with that. I have no large opinion on it. I just think it’s a good song.

#1183: Wu-Tang Clan – Shame on a Nigga

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A representative from one of the greatest hip-hop albums of all time. Shame – no pun intended – that this will probably be the only track from Enter the Wu Tang that I cover on here. But my appreciation for the LP goes a long way. 2013 was the 20th anniversary of the album’s release, and around the same time was when I first heard the thing in full. It’s a wonder how Wu-Tang is even a thing that continues to this day. You’d think a group of nine strong-minded individuals, all with their respective wants, styles, etc, would come to blows and wouldn’t remain stable for any length of time. But, bonded by family, the borough of Staten Island, an interest in martial arts films, and an obvious appreciation for hip-hop, the Wu gave us their debut and shot to legendary status almost immediately.

You might have already heard this song if you were intrigued by the post I made a couple of days ago. But if not, well, here it is. Before it was covered by System of a Down some years later under the name ‘Shame’, ‘Shame on a Nigga’ was released, appearing as the second song on Wu-Tang Clan’s 1993 debut album. Though if you were offended by the ‘rude’ language, a radio version of the track was also made entitled, ‘Shame on a Nuh’. Over a beat that features samples from Syl Johnson to Thelonius Monk, Ol’ Dirty Bastard, Method Man and Raekwon the Chef deliver respective verses in which they more or less tell the listener why people will fail if ever they step up to them, either in an aggressive way or when it comes to rap. When it comes to rap, they’ll lose because of their lack of skill. If things get violent, they’ll get shit. And that’s how it goes. As the song progresses, a new rapper’s brought into the frame just to add their own distinct voice to the mix. Makes the song that more engaging to listen to. And Ol’ Dirty closes the track off with the longest verse in which he again tells us why he isn’t the one to pick a duel with while referencing that old film The Warriors and telling us that he had gonorrhea sometime in the past. It’s a funny verse.

It’s a good, good song. Much different from how System of a Down provided it, for very obvious reasons. And even though that cover was the iteration of the track I heard before hearing the original, I’d say I’ve liked both on an equal level for a while at this point. You may ask why this song will be the only song from 36 Chambers that I’ll write about on here. I said that in the first paragraph. Well, ‘Clan in da Front’ was one I added when I think I’d already all the ‘C’ songs. And the obvious ones like ‘C.R.E.A.M.’ and ‘Method Man’ I got tired of due to my old iPhone seemingly playing those two nearly every day, even when I had all my songs on shuffle. I know those two are classics, but I could go a long while without hearing them again. But I’ll always have a lot of love for Wu-Tang. It’s for the children, as that old saying goes. The group’s music’s one thing. When you bring all the respective members’ solo material into it, it’s a different ballgame altogether. So, you know, if you never knew Wu-Tang before, the time to get to know them is now.