Tag Archives: my ipod

#1306: The War on Drugs – Suffering

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Welp, The War on Drugs are a band that I’ve dug very deep into at all. The reason I know of them is because, back in 2014, they released Lost in the Dream. Around that time I would have been in my first year university and was a bit of a Pitchfork nerd then. So when the album got a ‘Best New Music’ marking and a rating of 8.8, I was all in. “Let me see what this is all about”, and other thoughts of that degree. I wasn’t really into it all that much. It’s been a while since I’ve listened to it. But from what I can remember there was lot of music on there that wore a Bruce Springsteen influence on its sleeve. And I’m not all into the works of the Boss either. The one track on Lost in the Dream that got me on that first listen, and has stuck around in the saved songs pile ever since, was the one you see in the blog title for today.

‘Suffering’ is the third song on the album. I don’t have the knowledge to say what the general consensus is on it, whether it’s popular among War on Drugs fans or not so much. To me, it feels like one of those songs needed at a festival when it’s time to let whatever energy’s been built up before dissipate, so people can bring out their joints and have a smoke or just stand in their ongoing buzz and really let the music just wash over them. A proper mood-setter, one for the vibes. The chords alternate between, I think, F major and G major, for a good chunk of it with a lot of space in between the two to allow those notes to soak in. And then things properly open up for the smooth instrumental break when a grand piano is introduced alongside the established guitars and Fender Rhodes, alternating between C major and F major this time, before an echoing guitar solo then enters the frame. This is a track that’s very tasteful in its delivery.

I’ve been carrying out a practice of listening through a track and simultaneously reading through its lyrics before I go ahead and write about it on here. I’ve realised that in this case, I’ve never actually properly sung along to ‘Suffering’ all the way through. Only little phrases within, here and there. I’ve usually been more focused on the music around the words. But having read through them especially for this… I’m not gonna say the lyrics don’t make sense, but it does seem like they were definitely written to fit the music and evoke a sort of imagery and emotion rather than trying to lay out some sort of message or narrative. And I’ve got no problem with that because usually those are the songs I’m into. Probably makes sense as to why I like this one so much. If I was to hazard a guess, it’s probably about the end of a relationship of some kind But according to songwriter Adam Granduciel, he said the titular word during a scratch recording, and that alone influenced the sound of the end product. So whatever meaning people may want to have, possibly doesn’t go as deep as they’d like. All good with me though, I’ll say.

#1305: Billy Talent – Sudden Movements

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If you were to search for Billy Talent’s ‘Sudden Movements’ in Google and come across a few Reddit threads or something in the results, you might just find a common theme. Quite a number of people don’t hold the track in a very high regard. This thread asks what the worst song on the band’s third album is, someone answers ‘Sudden Movements’, and the replies are like, “Yep, couldn’t agree more. Thread finished.” The song is the top answer. It’s not even as if the replies go into detail as to why they think so. It’s stated like it’s a well-known fact. And people just agree like it’s nothing. I’m freaking out a little bit over here. It may not be my absolute preferred track from Billy Talent III, but it’s a favourite, for sure. A shame seeing it be dismissed so casually.

‘Sudden Movements’ is in the penultimate slot on the record, a placement where sometimes you’ll have an album’s dark horse or a bit of filler before the album’s proper closer. Slotted in between single ‘Turn Your Back’ and closer ‘Definition of Destiny’, it seems as if people see throw it into the latter category. I’ve never seen it as a dark horse, really. Simply thought it was a pretty cool song. The way all the guitars and cymbals come crashing in immediately to start things off gives the track a huge presence already. Ian D’Sa isn’t playing those signature finicky guitar riffs that are a staple in many a Billy Talent number, but rather blasts out these open chords which I think gives the track this expansive feel. I see an image of giants (or tall figures of that type) marching over buildings when this chord progression plays. All so very emphatic.

What’s the song about? I’ve never thought about it before. But for the purpose of this post, I can look at the lyrics and say I think the whole thing’s about a general feeling of paranoia. Laid out in the first line, “Well, I’m scared of my reflection / Is it mine or is it yours?”, this sense of having to look over your shoulder and keeping your guard up is further built upon as the track goes on. All summed up in the song’s chorus, “No sudden movements / Gonna give us all away / Or they’ll blow us all away”. The narrator asks the listener to not think they’re going crazy, which is something that deeply paranoid people say. Usually if this was some sort of TV show, the paranoid person turns out to be right and then the non-believers all looks stupid. We don’t get that kind of resolution here.

#1304: Red Hot Chili Peppers – Suck My Kiss

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Been a long, long time since I’ve covered a song from Red Hot Chili Peppers’ Blood Sugar Sex Magik album. I wouldn’t say it’s a personal Desert Island pick of mine. I’m rarely ever in the mood to want to listen to it the whole way through. But the couple times I have, it’s usually been a good time. I’m rambling on about my experiences with that particular record, just because it’s the one where you can find the subject of today’s post. Really, back in 2005 or something, my sister was loaned the Chili Peppers’ 2003 Greatest Hits compilation by a friend of hers. ‘Suck My Kiss’ was on there. But I don’t think I was into the band’s funkier tracks back then, compared to the sing-songier ones that were usually played on TV too. But I grew up a few years, revisited the song through BSSM and immediately saw it as one of the best songs on there.

It’s all about the bass line. Honestly, I’ve sung along to that more times than reciting Anthony Kiedis’s words when I’ve listened to the song. Flea on bass, along with John Frusciante on guitar, play this mainly two-note riff during the verses in unison, with Flea’s bass more forward in the mix. The groove is tighter than anything and infectious as anything. Gets stuck in the head very easily. Chad Smith on drums brings it all together. You can sort of tell this must of been the result of some sort of jam between the three instrumentalists. Have you ever noticed how those bass-guitar stabs after the “Is she talking dirty” / “Is she gonna curtsy” lines are played three times in the first chorus, two times in the second, and then for once only in the the last one? Once I did, I thought it was very clever stuff. The type of move that I can only assume a group of musicians really in tune with each other would come to think of.

But if I have to do some kind of analysis of Anthony Kiedis’s lyrics, I don’t think it would go any more in-depth than what you reading this would think about them. Typically of that era of the band, he’s rap-singing, delivering words which may not align with one another or have any narrative structure, but are more to fit with the music surrounding him. And fair play to him, it’s a formula that hasn’t let him down. Especially on Blood Sugar…, a lot of the lyrics concern Kiedis’s desire to seek out a beautiful woman and have a good time with them. To put it lightly. And that’s what ‘Suck My Kiss’ boils down to, funnily enough. There’s lyrics like “Little Bo Peep coming for my stun gun”, “Do me like a banshee”, “Do me now, do me here, I do allow”. These are the words of a very horny man. Nothing wrong with that, I don’t think.

#1303: Arcade Fire – The Suburbs

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‘The Suburbs’ is the first song on the album of the same name, Arcade Fire’s third LP, released back in the summer of 2010. The lead up to this album’s release is one that I missed completely, I have to say. During that time, I was getting into The Who and seeing what their discography was all about. It was by chance that I heard ‘Ready to Start’ in an advert for the TV show Skins a month or so after the album’s release, otherwise I would’ve stayed unaware that The Suburbs was a thing that was existing. So I got to downloading it. The title track started it off, and it was a strong, strong opener. It wasn’t the orchestral, spooky, mysterious epic of an introduction that ‘Black Mirror’ was on previous album Neon Bible. ‘The Suburbs’ had a shuffling tempo, a skip in its rhythmic step, with its opening piano part sounding quite upbeat. It was warm, it was inviting. I would have been a little late to the party, but there was something very refreshing with ‘The Suburbs’ being the first thing to hear on an album after three years of waiting for a new one.

Now, ‘The Suburbs’ as a song is one that probably a lot of people out there hold very dearly. I’m not going to say it doesn’t matter that much to me. I will say I don’t think I’ve had that experience where I thought, “Man, this song really hits home,” or something to that degree. Though, I’m sure that time will come soon enough. The track is frontman Win Butler’s recollection of growing up in the suburbs with his brother Will, learning how to drive and having those dreams of what they’d do when they were old enough to leave. And then it gets to a part where he asks a higher power to provide him with a daughter or a son, to show them some beauty before the world truly turns to shit. That tugs on the heartstrings a little. You can call me out for being superficial or whatever, but what I really appreciate about the track is Win Butler’s vocal. He just sings the track really well. And if the “Sometimes I can’t believe it / I’m moving past the feeling” melodic line doesn’t ingrain itself into the memory bank, then the song just probably isn’t for you. And that’s fine. But it is such a great melody, you’ll probably find yourself singing it spontaneously.

Well, according to my phone here, it looks as if this’ll be the last Arcade Fire song I ever talk/discuss/ramble about on this blog. May come as a surprise to some, maybe not so much to others. I’ve never been the biggest Arcade Fire fan. I’ve always followed them whenever there’s a new album around the corner, particularly during that nine-year span from Funeral (2004) to Reflektor (2013) when they were the big, big indie act that it felt like everyone was waiting in anticipation for when it came to the thought of new music. I think I even gave my thoughts on ‘Reflektor’, the song, when it was very, very new at one point. Though if I was a rabid supporter like you’d probably find somewhere out there, there’d be many more songs by them on this blog. It is what it is. But the Arcade Fire songs you can find on here are a bunch that I have a huge appreciation for. So click on that ‘arcade fire’ tag and have a look through, whenever you want.

#1302: They Might Be Giants – Subliminal

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It’s a story I’ve mentioned/told/referred to in a lot of the past They Might Be Giants posts I’ve done. Originally, the band consisted of two good mates, Johns Flansburgh and Linnell, with their songs mainly relying on a strong combo of accordion, guitar and synthesized rhythm section. This was the setup for a good 10 years of the duo’s career. But then it came to around 1992, when they both decided things needed a little shaking up, and they toured with an actual bass guitarist and drummer for the first time. This “normal” band configuration remains to this day. Initially, a lot of fans accused the two Johns of selling out due to this change. But they persevered, and 1994 saw the release of John Henry, their fifth album, and their first of many to be made in the typical rock band setup.

The LP is They’s longest, clocking in at just over 57 minutes. Up to you whether that’s too long or not. But there’s no arguing that with ‘Subliminal’ as the track setting it off, things get to a generally pleasant start. Linnell’s accordion is the first thing you hear, a familiar sound to listeners up to that point, followed by a real drum kit (double-tracked too) by Brian Doherty, and John Flansburgh’s guitar and new bassist Tony Maimone. The tones of their respective instruments provide a sort of crunchiness to the proceedings. And there’s a whole swinging feel to it. All very catchy. And then John Linnell begins singing about finding messages in the strangest of places, once while flying through the windshield during a car accident and another whilst lying in his bed. Unusual, I guess you could say. But if there’s anything TMBG is known for, it’s not for trying out a ‘usual’ thing.

Buckling the whoever-writes-the-song-sings-the-song practice that tends to go down in TMBG’s discography, ‘Subliminal’, although sung by John Linnell, was originally written by John Flansburgh. A big, big shock, maybe. Well, at least the lyrics were. And then Linnell wrote the music. It’s one of those hugely appreciated times when the two members collaborate to create a piece of work and when we’re all better off for it. As always, a Linnell-sung TMBG composition has a sweet melody to go along with it, but I think the big highlight is when all the countermelodies come in during the repeats of the chorus towards the song’s end. Flansburgh joins in on these in the left channel. I like to think of the whole moment as a sort of subtle mark of celebration. Here was the band at the start of something of a new era, with a proper rhythm section, but the two Johns were still gonna be singing for you no matter what. And then those final choruses play in reverse to play up the whole ‘subliminal’ idea. Perfect way to finish.