Tag Archives: my ipod

#1263: Snow Patrol – Spitting Games

“Hey, Jamie. Do you listen to Snow Patrol?” No one’s ever asked me that in my life. But the answer I would provide if I was would be a short “No.” Not because I don’t like the band. I just don’t pay that much mind to them. I think the last Snow Patrol song I remember being around and promoted was ‘Just Say Yes’. And whatever spin you may want to put on it that stops you from acknowledging your age, that song is pushing 20 years since its release. There was a point where the band was everywhere. Mainly ’cause of ‘Chasing Cars’. I never understood the hype for that one. Oh, and couldn’t forget about ‘Run’ too. ‘Open Your Eyes’ was used in an episode of The Office US. They were featured in a Spider-Man film soundtrack too. But when it comes to Snow Patrol, there are two songs by them I really like. One of them I covered ages ago in ‘Chocolate’. And the other being today’s featured song ‘Spitting Games’, both of which are from the group’s 2003 album Final Straw.

‘Chocolate’ was the first Snow Patrol track I ever heard. In the process of writing this, I looked back at the post I did for it. What a throwaway that was. I was younger and clearly didn’t care as much. When it comes to ‘Spitting Games’, I’m not too sure when or where I heard it for the very first time. Maybe it was in an advert. Maybe I heard it in a TV show somewhere. When it comes to these sorts of situations, more than likely I saw the video on MTV2 or one of those music television programmes and got into it almost immediately. It’s all in that guitar riff/’ooh-ooh’ melody that opens the song. Once you hear that, it’s pretty much over, you won’t be able to get it out of your head. Or maybe I’m just projecting. At the very least, I’m sure that’s what happened to me when I initially came across it. I particularly like the song’s ending, which is a spontaneous recording by producer Jacknife Lee of singer Gary Lightbody performing the track on a staircase.

For the longest time, I was confused by the song’s title and what it had to do with the lyrics. Like the previous song I covered on here, it just made me think of this disgusting image of people literally spitting at each other for fun. But honestly, maybe only yesterday (I write this on 13th February 2025), I properly thought about the title and its other very obvious meaning. When you’re spitting game, you’re flirting. And that’s what this song’s about. Well, it’s about the narrator’s inability to flirt due to shyness. They feel much more comfortable telling the person they’re interested in how they feel through writing an undisclosed number of letters. It’s not made clear if these letters are even sent. But they just need to get the words down because otherwise they’ll never be physically said. They just can’t muster the courage. Yeah, I like this one. And below are a couple of alternative videos for the track I found in the YouTube search. Just a bit different from the one I’m used to.

#1262: Pavement – Spit on a Stranger

So I was talking about Pavement’s ‘Speak, See, Remember’ the other day, another song from the Terror Twilight album, and how I downloaded the LP on the 8th June 2012. Well, at the same time, I went ahead to check the properties of the other song files. It turned out that I had separately downloaded album opener ‘Spit on a Stranger’ a few months earlier, in February or so. Why? Only my 17-year-old self would know, ’cause this 30-year-old doesn’t remember.* But I’m thinking, by the time I decided to download all the other songs, I really liked ‘Carrot Rope’ and I must have grown to like ‘…Stranger’ a lot. So clearly it made sense to. Good thing I did too, because the album is one I can let run from front to back on any occasion. Feels good for my soul.

The image/concept of spitting on a stranger sounds understandably gross and needless, but it goes far more deeper than that in the way songwriter Stephen Malkmus approaches it. The track is a truly earnest falling-in-love song, in which the narrator – lucky enough to find themselves being one of the two involved in the relationship – begins to realize the positive effects this other person has on them, giving the narrator the determination to do whatever it takes to make the relationship work and hopefully last. So what does the ‘spit on a stranger’ phrase actually mean? Well, I think it’s roundabout way of referring to kissing. ‘Cause that’s what happens on dates that go well, I guess. We kiss, and we essentially get our spit on this person we’ve known for a relatively short amount of time. It’s a slightly ugly way to put it. The song is anything but, with the golden guitar work and wispy synthesizer and Malkmus’s sighing vocal delivery. A track to play to a glorious sunset, or sunrise even.

The big question I have about ‘…Stranger’ are the additional vocals on the right-hand side that come into the mix at around a minute and 38 seconds in. Anyone know what’s being said? I don’t, but I always try and sing along to them all the same. They provide a very nice countermelody during the proceedings. Had things gone producer Nigel Godrich’s way, ‘Spit on a Stranger’ would have been the closer on Terror Twilight. His proposed tracklist was put into practice on the 2022 Farewell Horizontal reissue. I’ve gotta say, it works beautifully as “the last song”. Ending the whole record on the line, “I’ll be the one that leaves you high”, would have been very suitable. But introducing the listener to the album’s “world” with the number is something I’m just too used to at this point. I would have only been four at the time of the album’s initial release, but even I get some sort of nostalgic feeling from the song. Feels like one that symbolises the end of the ’90s. And the end of the band during the initial run.

*08/01/26 – Thinking about it now, I’m sure I downloaded ‘Spit on a Stranger’ on its own on the mere fact it was a single by Pavement, and I wanted to test the waters before fully diving into Terror Twilight as a whole. You can see why I forgot, because it was a very simple decision that I thought nothing of at the time.

#1261: They Might Be Giants – Spiraling Shape

And continuing talk about They Might Be Giants songs that leave me wanting more, today’s song is ‘Spiraling Shape’, the ninth song on the band’s Factory Showroom album from 1996. The track is almost four minutes longer than ‘Spine’. But when it reaches its end where everything cuts to sudden silence, I usually think “I could listen to that one again.” And I usually do. When I first came round to listen to Factory Showroom, in about 2010 or something, ‘Spiraling Shape’ appeared to be one that fans considered to be their best according to the Song Ratings list on the the band’s fan-run Wikipedia site. In the top 20, I want to say, even back then. I won’t say it was an immediate hit on the first listen. I was probably being a dumb hater. Usually was at 15. But then it was those listens that followed that got me thinking, “Yep. This song is a good one.” Something along those lines.

Another TMBG number written by John Linnell, the track is about a little thing known as a ‘fad’ – an intense and widely shared enthusiasm for something, especially one that is short-lived; a craze. Thank you, Google, for that definition. And in the case of the song, this enthusiasm is for the titular subject. People see this spiraling shape, immediately stop what they’re doing and are drawn in to this hypnotising presence that looms before them, like lambs to the slaughter. Perspectives from the people who haven’t yet experienced the shape but have heard what others have said about it, those who did but were left disillusioned by it, and those who know they could even come to harm by being allured by it are told. And the melodies utliised throughout are oh-so sweet. “The spiraling shape will make you go insaaaaaane”, Linnell sings. “Everyone wants to see that groovy thiiiiiiiing”, Flansburgh replies. There are some pitched-up Linnell harmonies that show up to in the midst of it all. You’ve gotta love it. I know I do.

The song actually has origins as early as 1992. In that year, They Might Be Giants made a demo for the song ‘Rocket Ship’. Quite the groovy number about travelling in a rocket ship that may or may not crash during its journey. Linnell switches up his vocal during the verses to make it sound more unusual than normal. But then suddenly out of nowhere, the chorus that would end up being used in ‘Spiraling Shape’ starts playing seemingly out of nowhere. Two somewhat disparate sections brought together to make a whole. Linnell recognised the greatness he had achieved with this section, reserving it for use at a later date. The parts making up the verses were never used again. Maybe they will be one day. It’s looking more likely that they won’t. But just goes to show that if a complete song doesn’t seem to work, as long as there’s one memorable part within it, you can always recycle it to make it its own thing some time in the future.

#1260: They Might Be Giants – Spine

They Might Be Giants’ The Spine was the first album by the band that I owned physically. A lot of TMBG fans might ask why. The Spine, for whatever reason, isn’t considered to be one of their greatest moments. Was released in a bit of a wilderness period they were going through. Honestly, my request for the LP stemmed from desperately wanting to hear the transition between ‘Au Contraire’ and ‘Damn Good Times’ in an uninterrupted fashion. And it contained ‘Experimental Film’, which I found through Homestar Runner. I always had good times with the cartoon. But within the album is a number of strong songs, ones that I consider to be up there as some of the group’s best. Others not so much. But that’s how it usually goes with music.

Now a lot of people may argue that ‘Spine’ wouldn’t go in the category of best songs by They Might Be Giants. And I would probably agree. But there was a point where I was just singing it to myself out of the blue and on a frequent basis. So this obviously meant that I liked it without even really trying. ‘Spine’ is only 30 seconds long and is more of a transition piece between the album opener, aforementioned ‘Experimental Film’, and third song ‘Memo to Human Resources’. But even as that, I still get a kick out of it. It’s the first of two songs about the essential anatomic structure in our bodies. This one sung by John Linnell. ‘Spines’ by John Flansburgh comes around later on. I have it in my head that the two songwriters coincidentally wrote songs about the spine in their own respective free times, and once one had found out that the other had done the same, then it only seemed reasonable that the album they’d do next would be named The Spine.

In the six lines ‘Spine’ is made of, I think John Linnell is trying to depict a man going through a stressful time of some kind. Mentions of dragging feet across a back and walking fingers through a mind. Doesn’t sound like things are going according to plan in this narrator’s world. The band’s performance sounds quite heavy, but I put that to the fact that everything’s bunched up in the centre channel. Gives the whole atmosphere a very crowded feel. Initially, I thought it was a whole other singer on the track. Maybe someone the Johns knew and thought would do a good job. Really, it’s just John Linnell really delivering the words from his stomach, as opposed to the more nasal tones he usually provides. Just as soon as you feel the song progressing and feel like it’s going somewhere, it ends and you’re left wanting at least a minute more. At least when you’re in my shoes, that’s the case. But I can make do with what we have.

#1259: Coldplay – Speed of Sound

Hey there, everyone. Guess who’s turned 30? This guy right here. Incredible stuff. It really creeps up on you, honestly. I’m gonna hope this next decade brings nothing but happiness and good fortune. The 20s were fine. Thirties are the new 20s. That’s what they say, right? Anyway, thanks for reading. This has gone on for a good 12 years now, and it’ll be a while until it finishes. But we’re getting there every two days at a time. And we continue with Coldplay’s ‘Speed of Sound’, released 20 years ago, the big first single to announce their comeback in anticipation to what was the band’s upcoming third album X&Y. I’ve come to think of that particular record as their ‘biggest band in the world’ statement. It’s not my favourite. And funnily enough, the band don’t look too fondly on that era either. What can you do?

And I kind of remember ‘Speed of Sound’ being the new song. If I recall correctly, its music video made its premiere in the UK on Channel 4. I didn’t care all that much for Coldplay then. Green Day was more my thing in 2005. And the premiere was at a really late time too. So, I figured I wasn’t missing out on anything much if I went to bed instead. I more remember the discussion around the song that was happening at the time. Mostly that it sounded too similar to ‘Clocks’, which I didn’t get initially. Speeding up ‘Speed of Sound’ (hardy-har-har) makes the similarity a little clearer. Then, to rub more salt in the wound, this track by what was supposedly the biggest band in the world made it to number two in the singles chart, beaten by the annoying, novelty ringtone era kingpin Crazy Frog with (its?) cover of ‘Axel F’. And at a time when it felt like Coldplay hate was at its highest, some people took great pleasure in that happening.

Fast-forward some years later, and I ended up asking for X&Y as a gift for one of those yearly occasions. Mainly because I just wanted access to the singles from it. I listened through it I think the one time, and it felt like it went on for ages. But before then I don’t think I’d properly listened to ‘Speed of Sound’ and given it full attention. It was through the full album listen where I sort of realised the song wasn’t half bad. A song about feeling insignificant and needing a sense of direction in this big, overwhelming world that still has so many questions left unanswered as to its origins. Not a bad topic. “All those places I got found” is a phrase that’s never sounded right to me, but that’s a little nitpick I have. But I really enjoy the way Chris Martin sings the whole thing, even though he apparently can’t stand it now. There’s an actual groovy bassline that you don’t find in a lot of Coldplay songs that begins at the “Look up, I look up at night” verse. And everything’s all tied together by the far out synths and reverbed guitar work that aid in giving the song this spacey atmosphere. One of these days I’ll maybe listen to X&Y again. ‘Least I know this one will always be in there.