Tag Archives: days

#1177: Dananananaykroyd – Seven Days Late

After having known Dananananaykroyd’s second and final album There Is a Way for 13 years, listening to it since near the day it was released in 2011 and becoming very familiar to every song on there in the process, I made the decision to buy it outright and get a physical copy back in January. It wasn’t cheap. Almost £20, it was. But I knew the music was good, so it was worth it. A lot of things became clear once the copy came in the mail and I opened those liner notes up. For one, I’d been singing along to the majority of the tracks on there, completely differently to how they were originally written. And two, almost all of the music was written by guitarist David Roy and, bar three songs, the lyrics were covered by John Baillie Jnr, who’d been more of the backing vocalist on the band’s previous album while mainly acting as the second drummer. I guess that’s why those two stuck together in a new band when the ‘Kroyd split up a few months after the album’s initial release.

I’ve gone on a bit of a tangent there. Let’s take it back to the point about singing the wrong words. Yeah, that’s what I’d been doing all this time. ‘Seven Days Late’ is a track on the album where there’s a lot of shouting involved. And being the people of Glasgow they are, they were unapologetically Scottish in the way they enunciated their lyrics. It’s an endearing quality. I could only mimic what I could understand, apart from those phrases where it was very clear what was being said. ‘Seven Days…’ is the most intense song on the album. I remember being sort of blown away by Bailie Jnr’s scream at about 2:20 when I first heard it. Bear in mind, I was 16. But there was nothing from Hey Everyone! that made me think they had that kind of scream in them. Really from the chest, sounded truly pissed off. And I’m sure the whole song is simply about someone deciding to stay in a room somewhere and do nothing until their mum and sister comes to take them away.

Thinking about it, there should be no reason why a simple subject like that should be matched with such ferocity and urgency in the music. And if it does, you’d think it probably wouldn’t work out too well. But that’s exactly what goes on here and, in contrast to what I stated in the last sentence, it works out very well indeed. This track makes me damn-near want to punch a wall. Multiple times or something. That’s sometimes what it has to come down to. There’s a frustration and tension that builds and builds throughout, and when the track leaves you hanging when things pause for a brief second near the end, those anxious feelings are beautifully alleviated by the final chord where the band members breathe an almighty sigh of relief – like sitting in a nice, warm bath after a tiring day. It’s such a good moment, I get goosebumps every time.

#1152: Mac DeMarco – Salad Days

Mac DeMarco’s Salad Days turned 10 this year. Back when music release dates were on Mondays (or Tuesdays in the US), it was released on March 31st or April Fools’ Day 2014 depending on where you lived. I was in my first year of uni, checking out Pitchfork on my old laptop. The album got the Best New Music mark. I listened. My following of the dude started right there. I was hooked. So much so that I even dedicated a post to it on here. Check out the writing of the 19-year-old I was. Had so much to learn. Now I’m six years older than DeMarco was when the album originally came out, and I find myself relating more and more to the lyrics as the time passes.

Although my previously linked article of my initial impressions of the album may be underwritten and not so substantial, the points I make on there still hold up. The album is indeed ‘sweet’, the eleven tracks on there are ‘enjoyable’ and I still really like the guitar tone on there to this day. The record is most definitely my favourite of DeMarco’s. The melodies are on point. Each tracks flows by like a breeze. And the whole package begins with its title track, a good old existential crisis indie song in which Mac sings about potentially having passed his peak in life but also telling himself to get over it and try again for another year like all the rest of us have to. Quite a melancholy way to start things off. But it’s real, it’s a universal feeling and the deliver of it makes it easy to digest. A very fine combination.

Seems appropriate that this song will be the last representative of the album in this whole series. Finishing off where my Mac DeMarco discovery began and all that. There are still more songs of his to come though, so stay tuned if you’re really looking forward to them. I would have written about a couple other tracks from Salad Days had the stars aligned. ‘Blue Boy’ was an instant favourite on the first listen. ‘Brother’ took some time, but I eventually got ’round to it. I noted ‘Chamber of Reflection’ as a highlight in that old, old post, but I sort of fell out with it quite quickly actually. Think I just found it to be a drag. That’s just me. But all in all, this album means a lot to me, no doubts there.

#620: The Cure – In Between Days

I heard this song in an advert way before I even knew who The Cure were. Possibly in about 2003. I was eight years old. If I can remember correctly, it was an advert for ‘best driving songs’ CD or something along those lines. It had to do with a car. Only about 15 seconds of the song were played; those seconds consisted of the rushing guitar and synths from the song’s intro. It would be many years later that I would listen to the whole song, purely by coincidence when it’s video played on the television one day. Just exactly when, I can’t say.

‘In Between Days’ is the song’s name. Performed by The Cure, as I have mentioned already, it opens the group’s 1985 album The Head on the Door – arguably their most accessible effort just because of the catchy and immediate all of the songs are. ‘Between Days’ is a bit of a rush. Very quick, propelled by brisk acoustic guitars and a strong rhythm. It’s done just as soon as you’re getting into it, I feel. But it still has a lot going for it that you’re not let down when it comes to the eventual fade out.

It’s another of those where I’ve never bothered to overtly analyse the lyrics again, but I always assumed it was about getting older and losing touch with someone you felt deeply for. That’s just from the first verse and a few lines in the chorus. He would actually focus on that subject emphatically on Disintegration I’ve seen interpretations saying it’s about an affair and Robert Smith’s asking for his true love to come back after she finds out. That could be true. I just like the music to be honest. I’ve always gathered a happy but sad mood from its tone.

My iPod #486: The Beatles – A Hard Day’s Night

John Lennon took on the task of writing the theme song for The Beatles’ movie debut; something that grabbed the audience’s attention as soon as the first shot of the film hit appeared on the screen, would get the crowd excited for what was to come. He did so over one night. He then came up with a final lyric whilst on the way to Abbey Road Studios to record the track the next morning. Less than three hours later, “A Hard Day’s Night” was complete.

Taking its name from an accidental but witty remark by Ringo Starr, “A Hard Day’s Night” begins both the album and film of the same name with a strident, hard-to-replicate guitar chord, before launching into its first verse in which Lennon declares to us that it has been ‘a hard day’s night’ because he’s been working too much. He wants to sleep, but when he gets home to his lady all the stress goes away. Pretty standard subject matter, right? But Lennon used it to make one of the most exciting album openers of the 1960s. Paul McCartney provided some help too.

You have probably heard it already, if not, take some time now. It’s only two and a half minutes.

My iPod #485: Small Faces – HappyDaysToyTown

Ogdens’ Nut Gone Flake would be the last album the English rock band Small Faces released during their original stint from 1965-1969. It utilises different styles from bass-heavy psychedelia to full-on hard rock, but it is the second half of the album that separates it from many, many other albums out there. On top of providing the listener with six unrelated, memorable songs the following six are based on a fairy-tale on a boy named Happiness Stan, who goes on a journey to find out where the other half of the moon has gone after seeing only the other half of it during the night. You think I’m making this up? It has to be heard to be believed.

“HappyDaysToyTown” concludes the story, as well as the whole album, with a good ol’ Cockney knees-up about the meaning of life. Sung by both lead singer Steve Marriott and bassist Ronnie Lane, the track teaches us that “life is just a bowl of all-bran” and to generally enjoy every moment you have in this world as best you can. Have a sing, a dance, and give a happy-days-toy-town-newspaper smile. What does that mean? It means a lot actually, despite the nonsensical phrasing.

And with that ended one of the most unusual albums to come from the 60s, as well as one of the most influential mod and psychedelic acts of the time too. They would (kinda) reform in the 70s, but no one talks about that so much. Good song.