Tag Archives: my ipod

#858: R.E.M. – Moral Kiosk

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If I was properly updating my blog back in 2018, I would have fit in a post solely dedicated to R.E.M.’s Murmur. That year, I went through the band’s discography front to back, and found that the album was one that I had really been missing out on in all my years of living. I think I listened to it once in 2013, but didn’t care for it. But that revisit truly turned me over. I seemed to remember that ‘Aha!’ moment coming in on the first chorus of ‘Pilgrimage’. Then every song that followed just never let up with great choruses. It’s a chorus fest throughout this album. Another thing was that Michael Stipe isn’t really singing about anything that makes sense in a direct way on here. There isn’t that extra hang-up of thinking, “Oh, but what’s he trying to say?” It’s some kinda abstract/poetic lyricism set to jubilant melodies. You can’t beat that.

‘Moral Kiosk’ is the fifth song on there. I thought this song was okay initially, but nothing special. Not like, I dunno, ‘Shaking Through’ or ‘Sitting Still’. But further listens changed that opinion. I give it a lot more credit now. Once the beat kicks in, I can’t help but bop my head or air-drum to it. Everything’s delivered with this forward-driving moment, and that sort of call and response thing with Stipe’s vocal and those guitar fills by Peter Buck add a good dynamic. The track goes on, and then in comes that chorus. Here, Stipe yelps “Inside, cold, dark, fire, twilight” amidst these tom-tom rolls and humming melodies courtesy of bassist Mike Mills and drummer Bill Berry. Those harmonies are a constant in every chorus on the album, always coming in as a sort of cathartic release from the kind of sneaky verses. They always arrive with a sudden burst of energy. I’d also like to shout-out the final chorus where the rhythm’s changed to give the track a disco feeling before coming to an end. Such a good switch up when you hear it the first time.

You can try and get something out of Stipe’s lyrics for this if you Google ’em, but it’s probably not worth the effort. Not saying that the lyrics are bad. Not at all. But if you’re honestly looking to gain some intellectual substance, I think even the band members would say there’s nothing to them. As I said, that aspect of the album made me like it that much more. Obviously as the years went on Stipe found his voice and wrote some earnest, heartwarming/breaking, ironic narratives. All the works. But the lack of those on Murmur makes it so unique from the rest. Well, and Reckoning too. I’ll also take this short sentence to shout-out the song ‘Catapult’ which didn’t get a post, but would have done had I heard it sooner.

#857: Animal Collective – Moonjock

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I was a couple years late when it came to hearing Centipede Hz for the first time. Although it was released in the autumn of 2012, it wasn’t until my first year of university that I had my Animal Collective phase and went through their big four albums to see what all the fuss was about. The fuss wasn’t in vain. That run of albums is one of the greatest of mid-late 2000s indie music. Though through research, I witnessed that people didn’t take to Centipede Hz as kindly. Pitchfork Media likened the music on there to a burrito being thrown at a windshield. And it seemed that a lot of fans they had gained just wanted an MPP Part 2, and when they didn’t they got upset. As someone who wasn’t aware of any of that at that point, I can say with all my heart that Centipede Hz is all right. Not my favourite, but probably a lot of other people’s. I’d say it’s like a spiritual successor to Strawberry Jam. It has some great songs on there. ‘Moonjock’ is one, and it’s the first song on there.

So you put in the CD, or just click on the track name on streaming services, and you get these strange vocal samples that glitch and switch from one voice to another. Kinda like switching a radio channel, which was part of the concept of the album. A countdown ensues, and the track’s official rhythm begins with a stomping 7/4 beat accentuated by an open hi-hat. Sounds very metallic, like I’m in a factory with these pumps and other robotic things you find in those places. That feel’s maintained throughout. But it’s contrasted with the nostalgic lyricism by Avey Tare who remembers the good times of driving on the road with his family as a kid. His father would take the wheel, his mom would sing to pass the time, and generally they’d go from place to place to a point where he was hypnotized by everything he’d seen. It’s a burst of energy and youthful excitement, a good tone to start of any album with.

The track comes to a sudden stop just as things seem to start getting wilder, but all this radio interference lingers. Long enough that it transitions into the next track and the album carries on its momentum. But, you know. Well, maybe you don’t. Animal Collective fans know that the group tend to start their albums off very well. You can count on them for good album openers. ‘Moonjock’ is no exception.

#856: John Linnell – Montana

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Hospitals. No one really likes them do they? You go there for reasons concerning your health, and a lot of times they’re never very good reasons. But their general settings can be a source of inspiration for many an artist. That’s a particular case for They Might Be Giants, whose songs sometimes take place in hospitals and are sometimes from the perspectives of people having conversations in them, trying to escape from them, or lying in their deathbed waiting for sweet relief. It’s no different in their solo work. Today’s song, ‘Montana’ from John Linnell’s 1999 album State Songs, falls firmly in that final group.

I can’t tell if this song is meant to be upbeat and tremendously sad. In this track, a person’s lying in their hospital bed – how they ended up there, we don’t know – but after what must have been time of just staring into space, they’re suddenly hit with a revelation. An epiphany. One that makes so much sense thinking about it that they wonder how they never saw it before. The state of Montana… is a leg. It’s a leg. And with that question answered, they’re ready to die. But they’re so happy that they’ve figured this out, that they want the realization to be shared to the other patients and for it to be known as their last words before they pass away. It’s funny, but it’s sad. I think it’s relatable in a way that their are most definitely a lot of people who have said the most random things before they move on to the next life. And I think this song captures a pleasant balance. It’s a bummer that this person’s going to die, but at least they’re content with the world and good to go.

Maybe you’ll listen to this and think the song’s standard band performance. John Linnell sings in his usual style with the standard great melody to boot. But then the chorus comes in and your jaw drops. Linnell really sings “leg” with his chest. I think that note he reaches is the most powerful one he’s sung in any of those he’s written, in solo work and with TMBG. He’s never been the powerhouse vocal style person, so when that “leg” arrives the first time, it’s like where did that even come from. As the only song of his where this fully happens – I guess you could say it happens in ‘Canajoharie’ too – it’s one that always stands out from the rest. The song, despite the somewhat maybe morbid subject matter, was released as the album’s first single alongside B-side ‘Louisiana’, which was made available on streaming and download formats just last week.

#855: Queens of the Stone Age – Monsters in the Parasol

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‘Monsters in the Parasol’ wasn’t an official single from Queens of the Stone Age’s Rated R album back around the time when it was released. But it has it’s own proper music video in which its protagonist on a mission, walking through the streets of what I guess is Los Angeles, to beat up some kids who’ve stolen a puppy and return it to its rightful owner. And to buy some new shoes while they’re at it. I’ll assume it was a promotional single of some kind. Whatever the reason a video was made for it is doesn’t really matter. What does is that it was one of the few Queens videos that would randomly show on MTV2 back in the old times of the mid-2000s. That’s how I came to know it.

The track was inspired by Josh Homme’s first experience with LSD, and its lyrics are just a description of the things he witnessed while high on the drug. There was real sister of Paul’s who Homme was attracted to, but when he saw her acid-tinted eyes she looked like an alien. The walls were closing in, things started to grow hair, and Paul’s dad seemed to be warped and bubbling. There’s nothing to look into very deeply with this one, it’s all from a personal experience. And it’s all surreal, which is to be expected when discussing the typical hallucinogen. There’s a lot of things I like about this one. It has a driving momentum; once it starts it never really slows down or loses its flow. And the track is also filled with these memorable riffs in each section, that catchy hook during the “she won’t grow parts”, those cathartic hits after the “covered in hair” mentions, and those freaky guitar hooks in both channels during the choruses. There’s a lot of creepy whispering in there too. All those little things elevate the song in my ears.

Many may not know, but the song was actually released a few years earlier under the name ‘Monster in the Parasol’ on Volume 4 of The Desert Sessions, another musical collaboration-type deal that’s mainly ran by Josh Homme. In its original form, the track’s a lot lighter. There’s not as much force on there as the album version. Homme sings like he’s trying not to wake someone up, he doesn’t sound as weirded out as he would do on the later version. With that being said, it certainly another great take of the track. Plus, you can properly hear what those whispers are saying here.

#854: Ween – Mononucleosis

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I saw someone describe Ween’s track ‘Mononucleosis’ as ‘basically’ (or was it “virtually”..) ‘the title track to The Pod. This is Ween’s second album, released in 1991. And when I saw that I thought, “Yeah, it kind of is, isn’t it?” The track mentions the album name in the lyrics. Plus, the infection itself is partially one of the reasons the record came out sounding the way it did. The main reason is probably that it was recorded on some very cheap equipment in a rented apartment. Yeah, The Pod is an enigma of an album. From my experience of listening to it over the years, you can’t deny the songs sound like absolute crap. But they have some great melodies, rhythms and hilarious moments that make it so entertaining to listen through. But anyway, yes, ‘Mononucleosis’, let’s get to that.

Gene and Dean Ween, the two guys and main brains behind the Ween name, both came down with mono during the making of The Pod, but on separate occasions. When Dean had it, Gene wrote this song which is pretty much him describing the whole situation and detailing his feelings upon seeing his good friend suffer from the infection. Each verse on here is underlined by a blunt expression of “Oh, dude”, which I think is sometimes all you can say when you’re feeling sympathy and sadness for someone who’s suffering in some way. I also think I read a description somewhere that said that this song sounds how having mono feels. While I can’t relate to that, I can probably understand. The track really drags, guitar notes ring out and drone with a very groggy tone, Gener sounds like he’s singing at the bottom of a well with all the reverb that accompanies his vocal. It’s a track about a very unfortunate situation, yet when I first heard it in about 2015 I couldn’t stop repeating it, I was enjoying it so much.

I believe this is the first song from The Pod that I’ve come to talk about on here. More are to come. But because I couldn’t write about it due to time and whatnot, I’ll point you in the direction of ‘Captain Fantasy’. Another personal favourite of mine. If you like what you’re hearing, kudos to you, not a lot of people would. You might as well dive in to The Pod and the 77 minutes of music it has to offer. You probably won’t be able to listen to music the same way after.