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#707: They Might Be Giants – Lady Is a Tramp

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When I found out that They Might Be Giants’ ‘Lady Is a Tramp’ – found on their B-Side compilation Miscellaneous T – was a cover of a classic musical number, I went to listen to an earlier take of the track from long ago. It’s been performed by some true greats. Frank Sinatra, Ella Fitzgerald, Bing Crosby, you name it. Once I did that, it really left me wondering how They Might Be Giants’ version resembled the song in any way.

The Johns’ cover is an instrumental of blaring synthesized trumpets and a bass guitar that gets louder and louder in the mix at various points. It’s only a minute and 20 seconds long. Someone, I assume it’s John Flansburgh, yells “Yeah!” twice and there’s a sample of Carla saying the word ‘tramp’ from her and Otis Redding’s song of the same name. After a few listens I realised that the trumpets loosely follow the original song’s melody in a very jumped up and hyper fashion. Lady Gaga and Tony Bennett coincidentally released their cover of the song the same year I heard TMBGs’ for the first time; the melodic similarity was right there. I think They Might Be Giants’ wild take just makes me appreciate their cover a lot more. It’s a very different way of taking on a Broadway musical number.

#693: Radiohead – Kid A

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The title track from Radiohead’s fourth album is a strange one. At least that’s what I thought of it when I first listened to it. I’ve just grown to like it because of its unsettling nature. I was a child in 2000 so I can only imagine how people who were expecting an OK Computer Part 2 reacted when hearing Kid A upon its initial release. 2012 was when I decided to take it on. I didn’t think ‘Everything in Its Right Place’ was too out there, but ‘Kid A’ certainly takes things in another direction.

The music, written by the band’s lead guitarist Jonny Greenwood, has an innocent child-like music box quality to it, which is layered upon by these soothing guitar chords that feel very warm and very comfortable. Then Thom Yorke comes in. He had some lyrics for the song that he didn’t want to sing. Instead, he spoke them into the microphone and Greenwood improvised a melody when processing the vocal through an Ondes Martenot. As a result, Yorke’s voice as a robotic tone to it that greatly contrasts with the comforting music box notes that persist throughout.

The lyrics, like many others, were assembled randomly after having been written and cut up. There aren’t many present on the track. There are six phrases throughout: “I slipped away/I slipped on a little white lie/We’ve got heads on sticks and you’ve got ventriloquists/Standing in the shadows at the end of my bed/The rats and children follow me out of town/Come on kids”. Very dark, visual and mysterious imagery on show. Clearly, there aren’t a lot of lyrics either. But the group are still able to make something grand out of very little. That’s a reoccurring theme throughout the album.

With a piercing wail, the song comes to an end and transitions into ‘The National Anthem’, which takes the unsettling tones to another level.

#683: Bob Dylan – Just Like a Woman

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It was around this time last year that I came to revisit this album. It’s in 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die – a book I got for my 22nd birthday and am still going through to this day. I am on 1968.

I’ve had Blonde on Blonde in my iTunes library since at least 2014(?) Maybe have been earlier. And I didn’t rate ‘Just Like a Woman’ back then. Thought it was okay but I immediately forgot about it. It took the revisit last year to find that it’s one of the best songs on the album.

It’a very pretty. Set in a waltz time with a calm Hammond organ and acoustic guitars. Really what takes up much of the soundscape is Dylan’s striking harmonica and that iconic voice of his. His vocals are not pretty, as you may or may not know, but it’s all about the feeling he gives behind his delivery which he never fails in providing.

#680: Feeder – Just a Day

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‘Just a Day’ was released as a standalone single by Feeder in the last few weeks of 2001. I would have only been six at the time but from what I’ve gathered it was the cherry on top to cap off a successful year the band had, having released their third album Echo Park earlier which was supported by popular hits such as ‘Seven Days in the Sun’ and ‘Buck Rogers’.

This song was featured on Gran Turismo 3, a game I remember getting for Christmas in 2002 and not being too impressed by it. I don’t think I understood how to play it at all and I ended up getting very frustrated with it. Something that sounds awful as an excuse because it’s just a racing game. It had great music in there though. I’ll say that’s how I got to know this track in the first place.

Years down the line I would see its video (above) here and there on TV, and it’s just a compilation of fans of Feeder performing/miming/dancing/acting to the track in their rooms on amateur camera footage. It’s a simple idea, but it’s clear that everyone involved is having the time of their lives. It is widely agreed that the two Asian guys who appear at various points throughout are the main highlight of the video.

It’s about being young, having great times with friends, waking up with a hangover in the morning and having the existential crisis that usually comes along with them. It’s also about feeling useless and not wanting to let people down via your excessive behaviour when it comes to drinking and all of that. It’s quite a downer. But with its high-energy and general catchiness – the ‘do-do-do-do’ hook is memorable – you probably wouldn’t realise.

Unfortunately, it was their last single to be released with original drummer Jon Lee who took his own life in the first few days of 2002. The band kept out of the public eye for a while to grieve and come to an understanding of what happened. They came back nearing the end of the year with Comfort in Sound, a fine effort that addressed Lee’s death among other sad subjects in its lyrics. Below is the band’s last live performance with Lee on Later with Jools Holland.

#619: The Band – In a Station

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I’m not a massive follower of The Band. I do have to admit that their self-titled album from 1969 is great though. Has a lot of great songs on there that I haven’t talked about but will in the future. Until last year that was the only album of theirs that I listened to. Music from Big Pink, the album that today’s song is taken from, is all right in my eyes. The follow-up is much better. Though it must be said that Big Pink is probably one of the most important releases of the 60s. A lot of contemporaneous groups were influenced by its organic qualities and noted it as a way forward in music following the heavy psychedelia of 1967.

‘In a Station’ is the third number on here, written and sung by the band’s pianist Richard Manuel. The Band had three main singers: Manuel, drummer Levon Helm, and bassist Rick Danko. Out of the three, Manuel arguably had the best voice. He had a lot of soul in it. Very vulnerable and his delivery could be devastatingly heartbreaking on some songs. That’s not too different here. Manuel sings about walking through a station, noting what he sees and what he hears and wonders if the people he witnesses would ever care to have any sort of personal interaction with him. It’s quite an existential track topped with vivid imagery and quasi-philosophical lyricism.

The main focus musically is all in that centre channel where Manuel’s vocal is along with those rich keyboards by Garth Hudson and the rhythm section. Then Danko and Helm join in for some fantastic harmonies in the choruses. Robbie Robertson’s acoustic guitar is on the right and Manuel’s rhythm keyboard is on the left but they’re really hard to notice when you’re listening to the melodies in the vocal. It’s a very sincere song; it can really take you out of yourself for a few minutes.