Tag Archives: is

#892: Weezer – My Name Is Jonas

One of the greatest album openers to ever exist? It might just be. I’ve had a physical copy of Weezer’s Blue Album for so long now, almost all of its lyrics and guitar parts and vocal embellishments… guitar feedback, you name it, are all embedded in that thick head of mine. And that album begins with this song, one that I want to say I can remember properly hearing for the first time in 2006 on proper quadrophonic computer speakers that my uncle installed because he was a nerd about that sort of stuff, pausing and rewinding at certain parts because I was so wowed that guitars were playing different things in each speaker.

The acoustic riff, written by the band’s original guitarist who left before the album was finished, that starts everything off is all jolly and unassuming. Then Rivers Cuomo comes in with the track’s first line alongside the band proper, and from then on it’s a whole different ball game. With its 6/8 timing, the track has this huge swaying momentum – heave-hoing back and forth with that wall of crunchy guitars. And the fact that this track doesn’t have a real chorus means that there isn’t a break or change of some sort. Sure there are those parts where the guitars fade and let the acoustic riff come in, but then they launch back into the frame again. Every section seamlessly rolls into the next, culminating with that final “Yeah, yeah, yeaaaargh”. Musically, it really throws you all over the place. Pulling and pushing, lifting you up and then gently placing you down.

Sometimes I kind of forget that there are words to this track that you have to follow. The lyrics aren’t necessarily about one thing. They touch upon nostalgia, childhood… memories in general. One main point in there is when Cuomo recollects a phone call he received from his little brother who had (then) recently been in an accident at work. But there’s such an towering confidence in the delivery of these words that it’s easy to let them just wash over you. Melody’s fantastic. I remember reading somewhere that after Kurt Cobain killed himself, kids found their next musical saviours in Weezer when the Blue Album arrived. And dammit if “My Name Is Jonas” didn’t get their hopes up when they popped the album into their computers, then I don’t know what more they could have wanted.

#890: Big Star – My Life Is Right

This is the second post with Big Star that I’ve written in the entire history of this blog. Had I started the whole thing earlier, I would have a few more songs of theirs up. And if I did, you would have noticed that I prefer the band’s songs by Chris Bell compared to those of Alex Chilton. ‘Feel’ and ‘Don’t Lie to Me’ would have received my high praise in a few paragraphs made up of waffling sentences. And while ‘In the Street’ was a Chilton song, it’s Bell’s lead vocal on it that gives the track its grit. These three tracks are all from #1 Record, the only album of Big Star’s that Chris Bell featured on before leaving the group, and so is today’s.

‘My Life Is Right’ is another Bell-penned track, and an older song that he had performed with an previous band before joining Big Star. He was really into his Christianity. His love of the Lord was a message in quite a few of his compositions, and it’s clear in this one too. He sings about having no one to share his troubles with, until one day he was shown the way and now feels that he has purpose in life. He was lost and now he’s found. Though listening for the first time, you wouldn’t be wrong to assume that it was about a new love or a woman, something along those lines. But nope. It’s God. Or at the very least, Jesus.

And although it’s got a religious overtone to it, it’s nothing that’s preachy or overbearing. It’s a wonderful upbeat power pop tune with brilliant production and an uplifting tone. Things start off with this wandering piano with a double-tracked Bell singing the first few lines concerning loneliness and frustration, but then the bass guitar and acoustic guitars join in to mirror the change in mood with the lyrics where he then sings on how he’s been shown the way before the whole band kicks in for the huge chorus. For a track made in the early 70s, there’s a grandness and pristine sheen to every strike of the guitar and crash of the cymbals that make this track sound massive. It’s common throughout the whole album. Might just be one of my favourites of that decade.

#821: Eels – The Medication Is Wearing Off

Ah, this is a sad song. Listening to it the first time you might think it’s not too emotional, but knowing the context of it all adds some weight to it. Mark Oliver Everett, commonly known as ‘E’ and the main man behind the music of Eels, found himself to be the only surviving member of his family when both his sister and mother passed away within a short amount of time of one another. Him coming to terms with their loss became the main theme of the Electro-Shock Blues album, released in ’98, and ‘The Medication Is Wearing Off’ is the penultimate track.

The song sees E staring at this watch that he’s been given as a present by either his mother of sister (not quite sure which one) that’s still working and ticking away the seconds while both of his dearest relatives are no longer living. I feel that the song’s a blunt depiction of a person who really feels like they have nothing left. Going through the motions, walking down the street and looking through emails, but wondering what’s the point of it all when you feel so alone. You know that scene in The Simpsons where Homer’s mother leaves him again, and he sits on his car and stares at the night sky while the credits roll? This song is that scene.

The music’s so calming too. That glockenspiel that introduces it and those woodwinds that follow… Makes the whole track sound like a lullaby. Those programmed drums that keep the tempo are never intrusive and the bass is so warm. It’s not necessarily uplifting, though you can’t help but feel a bit good when listening to it. But then you see the lyrics and you think, “Oh”. It’s a conflicting thing. Obviously, you feel however you want to feel when you hear it.

#775: The Darkness – Love Is Only a Feeling

The Darkness was probably the first rock band I ever got into. I believe this is a statement I’ve said a few times before along this long road I’ve chosen to go down, but I haven’t looked back to see exactly where. As an eight-year-old going on nine, I can still remember the group being one of the most popular in the UK during 2003-04. ‘I Believe in a Thing Called Love’ was massive. Initially, I thought it was a joke song because… just watch the damn music video. But I actually sat down and fully took it in one day and it suddenly clicked. And I still don’t think the tag of a band you shouldn’t take seriously had gone even when they released ‘Christmas Time (Don’t Let the Bells End)’ later that year, a song that I wanted to be number 1 in the charts but was beaten by the ‘Mad World’ cover by Gary Jules.

‘Love Is Only a Feeling’ was released as the final single from Permission to Land in March 2004, and I think it was this song and its great video that convinced me to ask my older cousin to get the album for me as a birthday gift. The track is an emotional power ballad. Not so much the chugging rocker of ‘Thing Called Love’, ‘Feeling’ is led by these emphatic guitar downstrokes and dueling/harmonising guitar solos that appear throughout. The track’s meaning is very much clear in the title. Singer Justin Hawkins says it’s about how wonderful love can make you feel, but how it can also be a danger too. It’s a song that’s really from the heart, and I think that’s what really attracted me to it all that time ago. Any reservations I had about the band not being very serious about their stuff was gone. This song was really good. Still is almost 20 years later.

#766: Guttermouth – Looking Good Is All That Matters

After ‘I’m Destroying the World’ by Guttermouth became a song that I was always looking forward to hearing while playing Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater 3 back in the day, the band’s album Covered with Ants was a constant request for birthdays and Christmases. I never did get the CD. It took until 2012 when Spotify had just properly got going, that I was able to listen to the album in full. And it wasn’t bad. Not the greatest album of all time, but if you’re into skate punk and like some sarcasm in your music then it’s worth a shot.

‘Looking Good Is All That Matters’ is the fifth track on Covered with Ants, and is a basic criticism of those who have no self-respect for themselves and only motivated by physical appearances. The first verse sets the scene, with the description of a date where the man clearly can’t stand the person he’s with but she looks good so he may as well stay. The second describes a girl who throws up to maintain her slim figure. The whole message is summed up in the sarcastic chorus: “Looking good is all that matters/God bless our society.”

This track got my immediate attention when listening through the album the first time. I always enjoy a bit of humour in the music I listen to, and ‘Looking Good’ runs on that. Nothing like jokingly pointing out people’s insecurities to fast-paced punk chords.