Tag Archives: every

#982: Blur – One Born Every Minute

‘One Born Every Minute’ was officially released as a B-Side on Blur’s ‘Country House’ single in August ’95. There’s not much online about it, so I wouldn’t be able to relay many concrete facts about it. I want to say that its drums and percussion were actually recorded during the making of Modern Life Is Rubbish and are virtually the same as they appear in that recording. I also listened to drummer Dave Rowntree’s podcast a fair time ago, and when this track’s name popped up in conversation, he advised for the people who hadn’t heard it to, “Just don’t. Just don’t bother.” Said jokingly, but with sincerity. To any first listeners here, don’t be frightened. Now, there are some kazoos and a glaring use of those old-timey bike horns. I don’t mind those too much. You readers just might. If you get those out of your psyche, you’ll find there is a fine song underneath to be found. Still, you’ll see why it was just a B-Side and not alongside the stronger material that made it onto The Great Escape.

The track carries on the “We’re oh-so British” theme that the band had cultivated for themselves in ’93, but had taken to another level by 1995. With a musical, Cockney knees-up element to it, the song’s another observational take on Saturday nights out and Sunday roasts, talking to elders who gone through the war and commenting on how, when it comes to sex, everyone seems to be doing it with reckless abandon. At least that’s how I’ve taken it. When it comes to the chorus, I’m not sure whether the lyrics are meant to be sarcastic or earnest. There’s something within them that doesn’t totally match the tone of those berses. When Damon sings, “Oh, well, see how we’ve grown/One gets born every minute” is that somehow saying that we haven’t grown at all and are just carrying out the same routine, only for the next generation to repeat? Or is the chorus merely just a assortment of phrases that seemed to work together for the music. Maybe it’s a bit of both. Maybe I’m thinking too much about it.

Overall, it’s a very catchy tune with plenty of melodies and musical oddities that will catch your ear over repeated listens. Some of those highlights for me are: those climbing “ooh-ooh” harmonies by Graham Coxon in the choruses, his higher “EVERY MINUTE” alongside Damon’s lower vocal when he sings the same phrase, those harmonies on the “gin” before the second chorus that go all over the place but somehow work, and that piano that’s turned right up in the mix during the instrumental break before the final chorus. Some may find it all rather silly. But there’s always a time for that sort of thing.

My iPod #334: Nine Black Alps – Every Photograph Steals Your Soul

(Skip to about 6:10)

Now I always feel as if I have to be careful about what I say about Nine Black Alps songs. The band follows me on Twitter, you see, and I think it was because they read one of my posts. Whether they liked it or not is a mystery to me, but I guess they want to see more. I haven’t talked about a Nine Black Alps track in a while.

Well, here is one now. It’s “Every Photograph Steals Your Soul”, the third track from the band’s third album “Locked Out from the Inside” released way back in 2009. I first heard it when the album was exclusively put up onto we7.com. If anyone remembers that site, isn’t it a shame what happened to it? It started to change by becoming a radio only site in 2012, and then it changed companies altogether. A real shame, I liked that site.

But anyway, I was excited as fuck to be listening to that album. Was hyped from the day “Buy Nothing” was revealed a few months earlier, but when I heard the first strum on “Vampire in the Sun” I knew I was in for something special. Nine Black Alps were heavy again after “Love/Hate”, and were bringing back the noise.

The topic of the track is really all there in the title. The song is from the perspective of a photographer who is all about the money and stealing people’s innocence for their own personal gain. Well, I’m thinking that’s what the band intended to make out this person to be. There is low, sinister guitar playing during the verses which give me an image of some sleazy man taking pictures of somebody, and then the volume increases for the chorus; the guitars get loud and Sam Forrest yells the title phrase with a few ‘yeahs’ thrown in there for good measure.

Just throwing this in, but the part which gave me goosebumps on my first listen? The part where everything stops for a split second before a ear splitting “YEAH” brings everything back in again. That was when I realised that this album was the shit.