Tag Archives: like

#1158: The Pigeon Detectives – Say It Like You Mean It

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Well, the last Pigeon Detectives song I wrote about on here was ‘Everybody Wants Me’, just over ten years ago. In that post I mentioned how I didn’t know whether the band were still together. It’s a sentiment I still have today. They are, according to Wikipedia, and even released an album last year. I’m not sure if anyone, apart from their fans, are wondering what the band are up to these days. But there was a time in those mid/late-2000s where they were sort of the talk of the town. The band’s 2007 debut album Wait for Me was a wildly popular one in the UK, and almost a year to the day of its release came the second album Emergency. It did just all right in comparison. But that’s where you’ll find ‘Everybody Wants Me’ and today’s song, ‘Say It Like You Mean It’.

I only really know this song because it was released as the third and final single from Emergency, and its music video got the obligatory play on MTV2 during the mornings or whatever. But that’s not to say I only came to like it through some sort of Stockholm syndrome situation. When it came to their singles, The Pigeon Detectives usually delivered the goods. Handy with a melody, bursting with energy. They were always fine ones to sing along to. It’s very much the same with ‘Say It Like You Mean It’. I read a comment the other day that said it was their most Strokes-ish song. I couldn’t believe that I hadn’t thought of it like that before, because it certainly is, particularly when it comes to the interplay between the rhythm guitar and the lead.

The subject matter isn’t one that I’ve ever heard thought to think to deeply about. The lyrics seem to consist of clichés and typical thoughts ‘n’ feelings that you would find in a song about your standard relationship. And if you like the first minute and 10 seconds of the song, then you’ll certainly like the rest that follows because the verses and refrains never change. But it’s done well. I could never say it’s a bad song. It’s just a shame that it’s the last one by the band that I properly cared about because, after Emergency, the whole UK indie scene kind of died out and everyone, including myself, just moved on to different things. They had us for a while, though. They were all right times.

#1007: Radiohead – Packt Like Sardines in a Crushd Tin Box

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It’s P time. Everytime I start a new section of this, I’m always weary of the amount of typing that I’ve gotta go through. But it has to be done. I’ve had this voice in my head telling me to have this done by the time I’m 30. That gives me just over two years. Maybe that’s pushing it. There’s still so many songs to go. But it’s worth a try. So let’s get restarted.

‘Packt Like Sardines in a Crushd Tin Box’ is the opening track on Radiohead’s 2001 Amnesiac album, the second in the group’s iconic – for lack of a better word – left-turn experimental phase after Kid A preceded it a few months before. I want to say that it acted as a bit of a message on part of the band that if people who thought Kid A was strange, then they had no idea. No better way to start of an album with looping metallic chimes and electronic bleep-bloops to keep rock fans on their side. As I’ve come to know it though, that wait for some sort of melody or settled rhythm to kick in is well worth it once those (keys? synths?) come in at 36 seconds.

I’ll always remember where I was when I ‘listened’ to Amnesiac for the first time. ‘Listened’ being in quotation marks because I was asleep for the majority of it. It was a tiring day after A-Level preparation in year 13 days, I think I may have been feeling down at that point too, and Spotify had this free trial offer going on. Though I more or less missed the middle part of the record, I remember still being sort of awake during ‘Packt…’ and digging Thom Yorke’s pitch-corrected vocals and the overall glitchy vibe of the entire thing. Then my consciousness faded away gradually, but then suddenly perked up when ‘Life in a Glasshouse’ started. As a result, those two tracks were the ones from the album that I considered its highlights for some time. I’ve come to appreciate a couple more songs from it, but the record isn’t up there in my personal Radiohead album ranking, to be frank. Doesn’t have that good a flow, I feel.

But, ah, the song. What is ‘Packt…’ about? Well, if you’ve been a longtime reader here, you may have come across a few posts where I’ve flat out stated that I’m not much of a lyrics guy. Even when it comes to writing these, I usually see what other people have said and see whether I agree with it or not. In rare cases, there are some tracks where I’ve felt I got the meaning down, which makes sense to me. This isn’t one of those times. Knowing that during the making of Kid A/Amnesiac, Thom Yorke utilised a method of cutting up lyrics and randomly linking them together, there’s a good chance that there isn’t a truly deep meaning to pick up from these sets of lyrics at all. They do sound great together, though, which to me is really all that matters. Oh, actually the main message is Thom Yorke wants some peace – leave him alone. There we go.

#744: Unknown Mortal Orchestra – Like Acid Rain

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My friend from university suggested that I listen to Unknown Mortal Orchestra one day in an English literature lecture one day in 2017. I don’t know how we got to that topic. But at some point she asked ‘Do you listen to [the group]?’ to which I replied ‘No… heard of them though.’ You know that standard reply. She said ‘You should, I think you’d be into them.’ I took her advice on board. I went home and listened to Multi-Love not too long afterwards. I have to thank her because it was an album that I added to the library with no hesitation. This was/is a great record.

A lot of the tracks on Multi-Love are based on UMO’s songwriter Ruban Nielson’s polyamorous relationship he had with his wife and a younger Japanese woman. The others are about drug-taking, partying, and feeling overwhelmed in the position of being a musician. ‘Like Acid Rain’ concerns the drug-taking aspect. In two minutes among a funky beat and washed out guitar chords, Nielson sings about buying some opiates and hallucinogenics and then seeing some weird actions going on while under the influence.

I always find myself air-drumming to this one. The fills during the ‘la-la-la’ hooks are so off the wall and erratic and they brilliantly close out the song too. “You and I are doomed to burn like white people in the sun” is a lyric on there that I’ve slightly side-eyed too sometimes. One of those ones where I’m not sure whether it’s meant to be a little joke or not. But apart from that there’s nothing I despise about this one. It’s a track that keeps things moving swiftly in the track list.

#743: The Knife – Like a Pen

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Silent Shout is another album I found while exploring new music in those years when revising for my A-Levels would have been the more advisable option. Pitchfork had named it the best album of 2006, and seeing as that place was meant to be seen as the top critic for indie music – I thought I would give it a listen. I did. There were some songs I liked, and others that I didn’t much care for. ‘Like a Pen’ took a while for me to get into. But once I did, it’s been a mainstay on the brain since.

The track was released as a single in ’06, and came out with a music video with an edit that made the song about three minutes shorter than the album version. I much prefer it the way it is on the album. The building and the adding of layers during the introduction, as well as the lengthy instrumental outro, add so much more to the energy of the track that is missed from the video edit. I’ll put the music video down below though.

An aspect of Silent Shout that always stuck out to me was singer-songwriter Karin Dreijer’s voice. There’s a tone to it that sticks in my head. The fact that her accent heavily affects its delivery may have something to do with that feeling. And her vocal delivery mixed with the video-game like production makes for a catchy listen, although it does manage to give off this slight ominous quality that gives the track that slight edge. Genius said it’s about body anxiety, ‘with the narrator wanting to minimize their body to something visible’…. I think it’s about something a lot more personal. If you were to see the lyrics, you could take a guess.

#683: Bob Dylan – Just Like a Woman

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It was around this time last year that I came to revisit this album. It’s in 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die – a book I got for my 22nd birthday and am still going through to this day. I am on 1968.

I’ve had Blonde on Blonde in my iTunes library since at least 2014(?) Maybe have been earlier. And I didn’t rate ‘Just Like a Woman’ back then. Thought it was okay but I immediately forgot about it. It took the revisit last year to find that it’s one of the best songs on the album.

It’a very pretty. Set in a waltz time with a calm Hammond organ and acoustic guitars. Really what takes up much of the soundscape is Dylan’s striking harmonica and that iconic voice of his. His vocals are not pretty, as you may or may not know, but it’s all about the feeling he gives behind his delivery which he never fails in providing.