Tag Archives: my ipod

#1268: They Might Be Giants – Stalk of Wheat

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They Might Be Giants’ 1990 album Flood includes a track that is more or less the band’s theme song in the form of ‘They Might Be Giants’. The number contains the lyric, “They might be rain, they might be heat, they might be frying up a stalk of wheat.” Then fourteen years later, a song under the name of that little phrase at the end there appeared as the penultimate offering on The Spine. Whether John Linnell was thinking of the specific lyric or just wrote this song coincidentally has never been confirmed. It’s not a big deal to think about, really. What matters is, I like ‘Stalk of Wheat’ quite a bit. On an album where the songs are very much on the usual rock band setup, ‘Stalk of Wheat’ arrives out of left field as this swinging showtime number with horns and this thing called a Flex-a-Tone.

The image that usually comes to my mind when listening to ‘Stalk…’ is a man performing it onstage in a theatre of some kind, suit and top hat on, pulling out the jazz hands for extra effect in places. An entertaining situation, I’d say. But when you look into ‘Stalk of Wheat’ a little further, you’ll see that the narrator conveyed isn’t having such a great time. Nothing is working out for this person. Journeys feel too far of a travel, they have no one to turn to who can lend a helping hand. Once they were a young buck who had big plans, but now only have those dark thoughts that linger. And with no money and no job that would help raise funds of any kind, they’re at a point in life where they have no idea in hell that would make things better.

All that being said, the song’s so damn catchy, you’ll find yourself singing along to a person’s downfall in record timing. Filled to the brim with these easy rhymes, wordplay, alliteration and earwormy melodies, and set to the upbeat, happy-go-lucky tempo, it’s the sort of track that wouldn’t sound out of place in a musical. You’ve got the backing vocals chiming in with parts of a lyric before Linnell finishes them off, very much like how a backing character will randomly put their two cents in during a song. And speaking of the lyrics, they range from sincerity to the absurd. A ‘moose denied’ or a ‘bunny that’s broke’ aren’t phrases you’ll find in everyday usage. But in the context of this song, they sound just swell. Just another reason why The Spine shouldn’t be looked down on when looking into the band’s catalogue. And there’s a video of the two Johns performing it live on a TV show back in the day. Ain’t that nice?

#1267: Ween – Stacey

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When I decided to properly get into Ween by listening to their expansive, wacked-out debut GodWeenSatan: The Oneness back in the autumn of 2015, ‘Stacey’ was one of three tracks on the album that couldn’t be played on Spotify. Alongside ‘Bumblebee, Pt. 2’ and ‘Hippy Smell’, the song was added to the ’25th Anniversary Edition” of the album when it was reissued in 2001. And the funny thing is that it had only been out for 11 years at that point. But I guess there must have been some licensing issues going on with labels, hence ‘Stacey’ was unavailable to listen to. I found a solution by downloading a pretty high-quality rip of the album online – think it was the first result on Google, it was very easy to find – and once ‘Stacey’ got around, well, it was a pretty instant like, I want to say.

‘Stacey’ is one of the many Ween songs named after a girl. Just as entertaining as the rest, even if the story behind it may raise a couple eyebrows. The track’s inspired by a young lady both Gene and Dean Ween knew at their school who was, to put it politely, a little slow. The “Hello”‘s at the end are meant to be an impression of her. But the song expresses an admiration for the subject and acts as a sort of tribute. Though whether it’s sincere is another question. I like to think it is. Ween songs aren’t usually mean in their intentions, except for those instances when they very much are. There’s only one verse really. “I know a girl named Stacey/With a brain that’s kinda spacey/I like her more than Sue or Tracey/Do you know a girl like Stacey?” That’s repeated three times or so, and the rest the duration is filled with killer guitar licks, riffs and a face-scrunch-inducing solo courtesy of Dean Ween.

I don’t think the question of why ‘Stacey’ and the other two songs were left off the LP’s original release in 1990 has ever been asked. I’m sure people were used to GodWeenSatan as the 26-track record it initially was before 2001 anyway, so when the three ‘new’ songs came along, they were welcomed into the tracklist with open arms and time for questions was reserved for a later date. Twenty-four years on since that reissue, I don’t think anyone could imagine the album without them. Below’s a live performance of ‘Stacey’, done in September 1991 when the duo were promoting their new second album The Pod. Mushrooms may have been digested prior to it.

#1266: Supergrass – St. Petersburg

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Years ago, when I was properly getting into Supergrass – I’ll say I was about 12 – I asked one of my cousins if she was into the band. This was a cousin who got me into football and who I knew kind of listened to the same music as I did, so it was worth the shot. She told me that she did like them and that she remembered watching a video where they were dressed in white suits, but she couldn’t remember the song’s name. All the videos I’d seen of Supergrass on MTV2 or whatever channel up to that point had no resemblance to what she was talking about. So we were both at a loss for words and we moved onto another subject. I can’t remember exactly when or where, but there was a time when I eventually found the song’s video online and thought, “Oh, so this is the song that [my cousin’s name] was talking about.” Gaz Coombes was in that white suit. The song’s name was ‘St. Petersburg’.

The track was chosen to be the first single from the band’s fifth album, Road to Rouen, and was released a week before the record’s arrival. Rouen was the product of a sombre time in the Supergrass camp, as the mother of guitarist Gaz Coombes and keyboardist Rob Coombes had passed away and drummer Danny Goffey was getting unwanted attention in the tabloids. The music became less upbeat, more acoustic and serious. Almost artsy in a way and jam-oriented in places. It’s not an album I return to all that much. There’s something about a sad Supergrass that bums me out even more, because I associate them with having good times and upbeat, melodic tunes to bust out at the top of my lungs. A sad Supergrass is an oxymoron to me. ‘Coffee in the Pot’ lightens things up, which I appreciate. The LP may not be for me, but it’s still very much essential and an integral part of the band’s catalogue. So don’t let me turn you off listening.

So, right, yes, the song, ‘St. Petersburg’. If there was going to be a single chosen to represent the album first, it was always going to be this one. Despite all the things I mentioned in the previous paragraph, once you get into its swinging tempo, you can’t help but listen to where the song leads to. The track details the feelings of a narrator who’s simply tired of the monotonous, tedious, meaningless life they’re living and feels they have so much to give. They make an aim to move to the titular city to make things happen. But the poignancy in the fact that whether the narrator follows through with this or if it’s simply just a wish that never comes to fruition is left answered. The fact that the narrator’s time of leaving is always ‘three days’ away and never decreases to ‘two’ or ‘one’ makes it more likely that it’s the latter situation. But more generally, I fall for the song’s overall mood every time. One of those perfect songs for looking out the window of a train when it’s raining and you feel like the main subject in a music video. A very specific example. But don’t tell me you’ve never done the same thing.

#1265: Pezz (Billy Talent) – Square Root of Me

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Last year, 31st May, the people of Billy Talent did the thing that I, and I’m sure many a fan, was waiting on for the longest time, which was finally releasing their first first album Watoosh! onto streaming services. By that date, I was already well accustomed to the record, having had it in my iTunes library since about 2009. Thanking my sister for downloading it from Amazon for that one. And even then I’d known four songs from it since at least 2005. But last year was when it became much more accessible for everyone to hear. Watoosh! was the only album Billy Talent made when under their original name of ‘Pezz’. The music wasn’t as heavy, but just as energetic and melodic. Some would say “weirder” for whatever reason. But I know it’s an album that I prefer to the last couple that Billy Talent have released recently.

‘Square Root of Me’ is the ninth song on Watoosh! The title’s one that I haven’t been able to come to a conclusion too. It doesn’t appear in the lyrics, just like every other song on the album, though at least on a few others their titles have some sort of relation to the subject matter. In ‘Square Root…’, Ben Kowalewicz sings about being a full-grown adult and reminisces on the days when he’d get beaten up by bullies and swear that he’d get his revenge one day. The first verse is the same as the second. Well, there’s a one-word difference in the second. And after that the song’s changes to a minor key, an instrumental break settles in, after which Kowalewicz and guitarist Ian D’Sa harmonize the line “I like you anyway” until the song fades out. The whole shifting-movement-halfway-through-the-song structure is one that’s used on every track on the album. But the songs are different enough that it doesn’t become a massive issue. Very noticeable once you recognise the pattern though.

I’m not sure what else I could cover about this one. I find myself singing along to almost every element in the track, whether it be D’Sa’s various guitar riffs and chords, to bassist Jon Gallant’s lines and obviously the vocals. Each part has something in it that my ear immediately latches on to. The thing I’ve always admired about Billy Talent is that even though they’re primarily a punk band, D’Sa incorporates a lot of jazzier chords in his playing that sets they’re whole thing apart from the rest. So there will be a chord slipped in with a note that stands out more than the rest that enriches the whole listening experience. I’m sure there’s plenty of those in this, if only I knew music theory. It’s pretty much guaranteed that Billy Talent won’t perform any of the Watoosh! songs live, if you were to go and see them. In their words, they were a totally different band then. And that is the truth. So I’m glad that at least a few more people will be able to hear their older music now, rather than have it be this thing that only the “true” fans knew about. It’s pretty good stuff.

#1264: OutKast – Spread

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‘Spread’ is a track from André 3000’s album, The Love Below. Technically his first solo record, but we all know it as one half of OutKast’s hefty Speakerboxxx/The Love Below double LP from 2003. It’s the only OutKast album I physically own. It’s an anecdote I’ve told before. I wanted the ‘Hey Ya!’ single as a present. My aunt got me the album instead. And I was only eight or something, so I didn’t have the bandwidth to sit down and listen to two hours and 15 minutes of music. Back then, ‘Hey Ya!’ and ‘Roses’ were enough for me. But somewhere along the timeline, I came across ‘Spread’ and thought it was a song I could see myself revisiting many a time. Think this initial feeling happened when I was playing FIFA while having my whole iTunes library on shuffle and the song came up. It was a time when I really had no responsibilities at all, believe me.

There’s a comment on the YouTube page where the above ‘Spread’ is, which says something along the lines of “André 3000 was definitely listening to Prince’s Sign o’ the Times when he was making this! laughingface emoji laughingface emoji” I listened to that album just a few months back, and I can see where that commenter is coming from. 3 Stacks even has a high-pitched vocal here like Prince uses on some tracks from Sign…. But the huge similarity comes in the lyrical subject matter. ‘Spread’ is about André 3000 eyeing a woman he likes that he immediately wants to have relations with, and he makes those feelings clear – be it in the spoken/talking first verse or the rapid-fire rapping second verse that comes after. I think we can at least appreciate that André wants there to be a mutual feeling of interest between he and this fascinating woman. But he wants the listener and the lady to know that he is ready to go to the bedroom and have a fantastic night of passion.

Thinking back to when I first heard the song, I’m gonna say that the first thing that grabbed my attention was the song’s chorus. Apart from the mood-setting keyboard intro, the chorus is the beginning section of the song – one in which André 3000 sings each respective line in a higher key, culminating in the soaring falsetto ‘Spread, spread for me’ lyric followed by the campy “I can’t wait to get you home’ refrain. It all got stuck in my head very quickly. The aforementioned second verse where 3 Stacks starts rapping like his life depends on it, so unexpectedly after the serenading opening verse, is a big highlight too. The way he delivers the words, matching the frenetic programmed drums behind it. Makes my head move in all directions. The track is the beginning of a little three-part suite in the album, with following skit ‘Where Are My Panties?’ capturing André’s and the woman’s internal thoughts during the early morning while they’re both lying in bed and ‘Prototype’ where he hear André contemplating on whether this lady could be the one for him. A good little run in this experience of an album.