Tag Archives: my ipod

#863: Brakes – The Most Fun

1 Reply

Brighton-based band Brakes’ first album Give Blood is funny in a way. It contains songs where they suddenly end, just when you were properly getting into their rhythm, or when they’re about to hit some sort of climax. ‘The Most Fun’ is one of them. It’s only a minute and a half, made up of two chords with no choruses or bridges. More one long verse with some periods where there’s no singing for a few seconds.

Vocalist Eamon Hamilton, backed by Matt Eaton (a member of fellow Brighton band Actress Hands), harmonise about the time the gypsies came to town and gave everybody a weekend to remember. Before then, they were just country boys doing usual country boy shit, I guess. But then the gypsie came. They put up a tent, invited everyone in, and it’s fair to say judging by the track’s last few lines that they all had a great time. And after the reveal that nothing was ever the same after those nights, the song ends and the band launch right into the following track. Those first few tracks really keep the album rolling along quite swiftly.

So there’s not much else to say about this one. The first few times I heard it, I did think it sounded more like an interlude more than anything else. But then I started to appreciate the gradual swell and increasing intensity of the music underneath the lyrics, and the almost droning effect that the guitars and vocals brought when combined together. It’s also a very relatable set of lyrics. It’s a nice one. Yeah, it’s short, but it really says all it has to in its time.

#862: Oasis – Morning Glory

Leave a reply

‘Morning Glory’ is the almost-title track from Oasis’ second album. In a video commemorating the 25th anniversary of that record, Noel Gallagher admitted that he felt there were a lot of songs that sounded unfinished. A lot of them consist of just one verse that’s repeated, a pre-chorus, and the main sing-along chorus. One of those songs he may be referring to include this. In ‘Morning Glory’, the second verse is the same as the first. Every time Liam Gallagher yells ‘well’, it sounds like each iteration is longer than the previous. But one thing’s for sure, this song’s an absolute corker.

In some ways, it precedes what was to come on Be Here Now. Like that album, it begins with distant helicopter blades, radio static and guitar feedback, before launching into this massive wall of barre chords that set the track’s chord progression. Liam Gallagher’s voice on here’s possibly the best thing about it. Has that rasp behind it, but also that power. He puts his all into every line sung, straight from the gut. And again, Noel Gallagher’s lyrics contain that faux-philosophical, somewhat cheeky and nonsensical, but somehow very relatable feel that he excelled at tremendously when Oasis were really on top. I like how he tells us that ‘Tomorrow Never Knows’ by the Beatles is his favourite tune. He kinda slides it in there. Not as obvious and throwaway like that ‘fool on the hill and I feel fine’ lyric from that other track.

The video’s possibly the way that I came across the track. It’s okay. The band play the song in an apartment, the angry neighbours come around and bang on the door wondering what all the noise is about. Meanwhile, the band play football and generally get up to no good. It’s probably one of the least memorable videos out of the singles from that album. Maybe it was more of an afterthought. The track was only released as a commercial single in Australia and New Zealand after all. But no matter how I feel about the video, it doesn’t stop me from turning the volume loud whenever this one comes on.

#861: Radiohead – Morning Bell/Amnesiac

Leave a reply

Now, you’re probably thinking, “Didn’t you do already do a post on this song just a few days ago?” The answer to that is yes, but also no. You see, Radiohead recorded two versions of the song ‘Morning Bell’. This one appeared a few months later, when the band released Amnesiac in 2001. To differentiate the two, the ‘Amnesiac’ was tacked on to the end of the song’s title. I think a lot of people prefer the ‘original’ that was released first on Kid A. On a lot of days, I think this version one tops it.

I won’t keep you long; it’s got the same lyrics and melody and all. But the feel is much more different. While there was some warmth to the track’s atmosphere on Kid A, the tone here is icy cold. I imagine Thom Yorke walking through a powerful blizzard miming to it. Or with a candle, stumbling around the inside of a dark and empty house. The 5/4 time is gone, replaced by standard timing, and replacing the usual rock instruments are acoustic guitars, bells, glockenspiels, and a whole lot of other things that I don’t know the name of. It’s so much spookier than the Kid A counterpart. Yorke sounds like a ghost while singing, his voice reverberates all over, and he really wails on this version too. It also doesn’t go through that melodic change, but what it does do is end with Yorke singing “Release me” over that riff by Colin Greenwood which, as I said before, is probably my favourite musical moment in both versions.

I’ll listen to both versions back to back anytime. But overall, I’m glad that this version of the song exists. One isn’t supposed to replace the other in terms of playability. And you get two totally different experiences with the same lyrics and music. I could have tacked it on to the previous post, but I think this one deserves its own.

#860: Radiohead – Morning Bell

Leave a reply

While those strange noises at the end of ‘Idioteque’ are still ringing and begin to fade out on Radiohead’s Kid A, a drum pattern bursts into the soundscape from out of nowhere. This drum pattern signifies the start of following track ‘Morning Bell’, a song that’s a bit about divorce and a bit about mostly nothing at all. I believe it’s one of the tracks on the album where Thom Yorke put words into a hat and sorted them randomly to make a lyric. But please correct me if I’m wrong. The likelihood of that being the case is quite large.

When I heard Kid A for the first time, I don’t think I rated ‘Morning Bell’ that highly. There were three tracks on there that I was immediately hooked on to. The rest took some time. All I remember is that one day I was either on a bus or a train going somewhere, and the part where Thom Yorke sings “Release me” along with that nice bassline by Colin Greenwood just kept repeating in my head. That small part sometimes makes the whole song for me. Its first half comprises of Yorke on the keys, Greenwood and Phil Selway on drums, all playing together in 5/4 time and really locked in, and there’s a real warmth produced by the music, it feels so cozy. It subtly builds and builds. Guitars join the frame, and there’s a sudden freakout in the middle where everyone plays that ends just as quick as it starts. Then the whole song’s mood changes for its second half. Like it changes key or just changes it melodic movement. Happens so quick you don’t realise it that much. It definitely ends in a way that you wouldn’t think you were listening to the same song. Radiohead are usually really good at that sort of thing.

I hope that we see a reissue akin to the OKNOTOK release for a 20th anniversary of Kid A and Amnesiac. Honestly, I think it would have been set to go last year if everything that happened then didn’t happen. Though I believe it still could. No harm in wishing.

#859: Good Shoes – Morden

2 Replies

2007 was a good time to be an indie band from the UK. Since Arctic Monkeys had exploded the year before, the floodgates opened and those groups just kept on coming. But even if they had only one popular song, they could go at least somewhere and get a bit of hype before they eventually disappeared. Good Shoes had more than just one good song. They had a few actually. ‘All in My Head’ was their first single, came with a great music video too. And from my experience, whenever a new Good Shoes video arrived on MTV2, the song it was made to promote was usually very good. And one day I was sitting there, watching music videos come and go on that channel, when the video for the band’s ‘new’ single ‘Morden’ appeared.

I’ve been in Morden once. Not for any great length of time. I passed through the place during an Uber ride to its train station. I really should have gone home that night instead of getting too drunk that I had to stay round at a friend’s who lived near there. It was a long journey back to my place, I tell you. From what I saw of Morden, I didn’t think it was that bad. I don’t live there though, so my opinion shouldn’t matter much. However, the members of Good Shoes are, and the band’s track ‘Morden’ is a tale of just how shitty the town can be. Or at least how shitty the place was in the eyes of singer Rhys Jones.

The track’s a sweet 2-and-a-half minute jangly pop tune, but in it Jones straight out tells the listener that Morden isn’t a place you want to take your kids too. People are apparently racist, some might stab if you walk into the wrong area, kids are killing themselves, and overall it’s just a very uninspiring place that you wouldn’t want to live in. Now, I didn’t realise that when I was 12. Then, it just sounded good, and the one word chorus was quite memorable. Seeing the lyrics now I guess puts a downer on it, doesn’t affect my enthusiasm of it though. I find it funny in a strange way.