Tag Archives: comes

#1391: Gorillaz – Tomorrow Comes Today

‘Clint Eastwood’ is the official first single by Gorillaz. I’m sure it goes down as that. When it was released in 2001, I was but a small child, but I have a vague memory of watching The Box or something and seeing Noodle kicking a gorilla in the face, having no idea what was going on. Seemed weird seeing a cartoon set to music. That’s seen as the song that introduced the world to Gorillaz. But a few months before, the first batch of Gorillaz material was released in the form of the Tomorrow Comes Today EP. A very pivotal time in Damon Albarn’s life. Only a month before the EP was out, he was appearing on TV shows with Blur, doing promotional work for the band’s Best Of: compilation. But that work was over, it was a new millennium, and it was time to unveil this new project. Gorillaz, hell yeah. ‘Tomorrow Comes Today’ was really the first Gorillaz song to be unveiled, along with a music video that, according to the Bananaz documentary, was done in two weeks.

I… did not like this song a very long time. I heard Gorillaz for the first time in 2010. I may have heard ‘Tomorrow…’ here and there before then, but here it was in the context of the album. With its placement after ‘Re-Hash’ and ‘5/4’, ‘Tomorrow…’ felt like such a downer. Albarn melodically mumbling syllables over downcast music. It wasn’t for me. I didn’t get it. But then, I remember, I was on a train, more specifically the Underground, back home one day. Couldn’t say what year. I was looking at people’s faces, most of them blank, expressionless, tired. The song came to my head, and that was it. I feel I finally understood what the tune was going for. Even though I don’t think anyone really knows what Albarn’s saying apart from the man himself, I get the feeling it’s about being anywhere else than a place you’re currently in – whether that be physically or mentally too. It might have to do with the rapid development of technology or something as well. Albarn’s vocal’s perfect for it. The best part is probably when Miho Hatori, as Noodle, harmonises with him on the last line. Icing on the cake.

The song goes back as early as 1999. We know this because, in its demo form, it was released as a bonus track on Japanese releases of Blur’s 13. Check out Damon Albarn just messing around on his Casio. Obviously, he saw enough potential in the song he had to develop it into the fleshed-out composition it would become. In its album form, it’s led by a really deep bass guitar, sparse piano tinkles and the melodica, an instrumental you’ll find in many a Gorillaz song. I never realized how sample-assisted the track is too. The drum beat is taken from Allen Toussaint’s ‘Get Out of My Life, Woman’. And if I hadn’t looked at Genius, I would have never known there was a recording of a Gregorian chant during the introduction. Thinking that’s down to the involvement of producer Dan the Automator, who was also working on Deltron 3030 almost at the same time. That’s a whole other bag we don’t have to put our hands into. But to sum things up, ‘Tomorrow Comes Today’ is a song I like a lot now having disregarded it for many years. I can find a lot of solace in its gloom.

My iPod #516: The Beatles – Here Comes the Sun

Skiving from a tedious Apple meeting on a sunny day in April, George decided to chill at good friend Eric Clapton’s house. The joy of being there and not at work inspired him to pick up an acoustic guitar and write “Here Comes the Sun”, a song that would become one of his, and the group’s, most beloved songs. Only he, Paul, and Ringo play on the song as John was in the hospital recovering from a motorcycle accident, but every Beatles fan will know that not all of them were needed to make sweet music.

As the listener ponders on what they’ve heard during the abrupt ending to “I Want You (She’s So Heavy)“, George’s acoustic guitar peeks into the soundscape like a beam of light amidst the darkness and begins to deliver the song’s delightful introductory riff before being further joined by a soothing Moog synthesizer and orchestra when Harrison starts his vocal take. It is not long after that that Paul and Ringo give the track its driving rhythm and provide a solid backbone to the track’s cheerfulness and optimism. Filled to the brim with sweet melodies provided by almost instrument bar drums, “Here Comes the Sun” is a perfect example of a three-minute wonder. A great pop rock song if ever there was one.

It took much longer than it should have, but it was during the making of Abbey Road that John Lennon and Paul McCartney finally realised that George Harrison was not as below them in terms of songwriting as they had regarded him to be during the years they were together. At long last. The damage had already been done by that point, though it was fitting that on their last recorded material, George really showed what he was about.

My iPod #515: The Young Knives – Here Comes the Rumour Mill

Excuse the quality of the music video above; YouTube had only been existing for a year when the video was uploaded and couldn’t handle the same standards as it does today.

The Young Knives are a three-piece indie rock band consisting of brothers Henry and Thomas “The House of Lords” Dartnall on guitar and bass respectively, and Oliver Askew on the drums. They were quite the thing in 2006 (not as much as… say Arctic Monkeys were but were still a group that got people talking) releasing a string of enjoyable singles which led up to their debut album Voices of Animals and Men in August of the same year. Took me a while to find out who the band actually was. The original video for the band’s first single “The Decision” was played on MTV at sporadic times but the little animation that showed you the song’s name and artist never showed up. It also made me assume that The House of Lords was the band’s lead singer. Viewing the first video for “Weekends and Bleak Days” and “Here Comes the Rumour Mill” showed that he, in fact, was not.

And, if you didn’t see from the title, the second song is what I will be talking about today. “Here Comes the Rumour Mill” was The Young Knives’ second single released early 2006, and is about the paranoia and mistrust brought about by constant gossiping and rumours. The track is driven by a constantly moving guitar line that intertwines with Henry Dartnall’s vocals amidst a solid rhythm section before the power chords are brought out for a rip-roaring chorus in which Dartnall leaps an octave or so, shouting about the uncontrollable spread of the lies that are spouted by people. I think the track is another one of those that sound so much better when seen with its music video. It’s one that brilliant captures what the song is about visually, and what better way to exhibit it than through having the lead singer aggressively yell with huge bug-like eyes towards the camera, seeing hallucinations brought on by his mental condition? It’s a wild listen, much more so than compared to “The Decision”, and was the track that convinced me that the group was worth listening to. Most definitely my favourite song of theirs.

It’s a shame they gradually faded from the airwaves, but they’re still going strong. Their most recent album Sick Octave came out in late 2013. Still, it’s their first album that I feel most connected with. Takes me back to a simple times.