Tag Archives: it

#647: Blur – It Could Be You

I may have said this before but just to reinforce it again, I prefer The Great Escape to Parklife. I realise that the latter is recognised as Blur’s first classic album, it was immense for British culture during the time it was released. The former is mostly seen as Parklife‘s weaker follow-up nowadays. It also doesn’t help that none of the bandmembers don’t look on The Great Escape very fondly either. When it comes down to it, I enjoy a lot more songs from that album than I do its predecessor.

‘It Could Be You’ is a track from The Great Escape, released in 1995, and was also released as single – only in Japan – the following year. It is predominantly inspired by The National Lottery, which had recently become a thing around the time the album came out, with its title taken from the initial slogan that was used to promote the whole ordeal. Damon Albarn sings about what he could do if he were to win it, or at least sings from the perspective of someone who wishes to, alongside various phrases and observations on British society that he was prone to during those times.

Like a lot of songs on Parklife, the track is rich in melodies and general catchiness, pepped up with enthusiastic ‘doo-doo/ooh-ooh’ vocals here and there and quite the keen vocal take from Albarn. Actually, a lot of the vocals here seem almost camp in a way…. like it could be a musical number or something. Though it does help that they’re backed up by a relatively strong performance from Graham Coxon’s guitars and the rhythm section of Alex James and Dave Rowntree. Check out the fuzz bass that comes in for a brief moment during the chorus. It took me a while to realise that was even there.

#643: The Strokes – Is This It

This is it. The title track and opener on The Strokes’ debut album from 2001. And a lot argue that it never got a lot better than this. I’ve said I’m more into Room on Fire in the past but ‘Is This It’ is definitely one of The Strokes’ best songs, in my opinion.

Everything about it sounds so simple, warm and cozy to the ears; it is a song that couldn’t see anyone not liking for any particular reason whatsoever. Two seconds of silence are interrupted by the sound of a tape reel rewinding, before the track’s slow drum rhythm comes in along with the first guitar and Julian Casablancas’ trademark croon. The verse transitions into the first chorus where the second guitar is introduced, but it’s when that bass line kicks in on the second verse that the track is complete. It’s the full package. If you don’t like the hop/skipping catchiness of the bass with basically everything else you hear…. The Strokes aren’t for you. The band gives you what they’re all about right here in the short duration of time the song lasts for.

Did you know that the sound at the beginning is actually a take of ‘Someday’ that’s been sped up to a crazy amount and progressively been slowed down? It’s interesting to hear, if you care that much.

#642: The Who – Is It in My Head?

The ninth track on The Who’s 1973 rock opera Quadrophenia is just another introspective moment out of many on the album. Its protagonist has…. a lot on his plate – to keep it short and sweet – and is trying to figure out things he can do to try and make himself a better person without coming across as too eager or looking a fool in the process. By the end of the track, he gives up altogether and declares total apathy for anything in the following song ‘I’ve Had Enough’.

For the longest time I thought Pete Townshend sang the chorus. In actual fact, it’s bassist John Entwistle who takes the lead with Roger Daltrey singing the verses. Speaking on Daltrey, this album was definitely his vocal peak. He belts out every howl and bellow from the gut. I can only try and replicate the song’s ‘I feel I’m being followed’ bridge but would never be able to reach those notes with as much gusto.

Daltrey’s voice is really the focal point throughout. As the track is quite mid-tempo, there isn’t as much room for the rapid drum fills or inventive bass lines from the rhythm section. Townshend does add some guitar flourishes here and there, particularly to transition between verses and choruses. Still, it’s another emphatic and cathartic performance by all four members capped off with some warm synthesisers in the mix too.

#622: Supergrass – In It for the Money

So after Supergrass gained a ton of praise from their debut album I Should Coco in 1995, helped tremendously by their most recognisable hit and youth anthem ‘Alright‘, Steven Spielberg approached the band in an effort to make a television series with them based on that of The Monkees. The group declined, instead choosing to record their second album. This was most definitely the better route to take. Coco was a burst of sharp wit and energy. Its production made all the instruments sound very tight, like they were playing together in a tiny, tiny room. In It for the Money took a totally different direction.

Instead of carrying on with the usual breakneck velocity, Money is made of songs that are allowed to breathe. Take a breeze and chill with some slower tempos. The tracks also sound expansive. There’s also a wider variety of instruments. But the group never lost their playfulness and knack for great tunes. The title track shows it all in the three minutes it lasts for and is a fantastic taster for what’s to come It opens the album with an creepy organ drone that transitions into a heavy Beatles-like arpeggiated riff and Gaz Coombes’ vocal.

“Here I see a time to go and leave it all behind/And you know it’s wrong to fall/We’re in it for the money” are three lyrics that when put read together like that don’t seem to make much sense, though Coombes and bassist Mick Quinn on higher harmony deliver them with a power and confidence that make them sound like a formal declaration. There’s a musical build as the last phrase is repeated before the song explodes into its main refrain. The track takes another turn as it leads into another verse of repeated lines, accompanied with a beautiful guitar line and descending bass groove. A glorious fanfare of horns appear. It’s beautiful stuff.

It comes to a very abrupt halt but you have to listen to the album from front to back to understand the effect of that production decision. Summing it up, this was the introduction to a new Supergrass back in ’97 – definitely not a case of the sophomore slump.

#570: Ween – I Don’t Want It

I was about 18 when I listened to The Mollusk for the first time when looking for new music to get into. That album was released in 1997 so it’s not new by any means, but you know looking out for stuff that I’d just never heard before. I got to love that album but then I never thought about really digging into the rest of the band’s discography.

Fast forward to 2015. Twenty years old, just started a new job for my placement year. Things are going good. I was at home just chilling in the evening as you do before going to work again the next day and out of curiosity I decided to listen to GodWeenSatan: The Oneness on Spotify…… There was no turning back. I dove deeper into the hole that had opened beyond my ears. I’ve been properly listening to Ween for just over two years now, and I am convinced that they might be the greatest band on this planet. No one really knows it though.

And so, the first Ween song I’m able to cover is ‘I Don’t Want It’, the tenth song on the group’s 2003 album Quebec. The album arrived at the end of a dark period during the band’s original run in which drummer Claude Coleman almost died in a severe car accident and lead vocalist Aaron Freeman (Gene Ween) going through a crummy divorce. ‘I Don’t Want It’ is the song about that crummy divorce and depicts Freeman’s feelings about the whole situation. It’s a sad song, to put it straight, perfectly capturing the moment of realisation when a breaking relationship has come to an end. It’s obviously for the best, though the love is still there that you don’t want to let go.

For the most part the track is played straight. Verse, chorus, verse, chorus. Things slow down afterwards, a short break occurs, and then suddenly a burst of guitar feedback kicks in leading into one of the most glorious guitar solos I’ve heard, drowning out almost every other instrument, echoing into the abyss and backed by some heavenly ‘aah’ vocals. For a time I did think it was lead guitarist Mickey Melchiondo (Dean Ween) doing this solo. Why not? If there’s a solo in any other Ween song, it’s usually him who pulls them off. Then it dawned on me that it could possibly be Freeman himself… Turned out that it was, which made it all the more powerful and heartbreaking to me. It’s perfect.