Tag Archives: my ipod

#1129: Nick Drake – Road

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Time for another song from Pink Moon again. Have I mentioned that it’s one of my favourite albums of all-time? Would be a major misstep if I haven’t done so in any of the posts from the six songs I’ve already written about from there. Nick Drake felt let down by the music business, withdrew within himself and became heavily depressed, recorded the album in two days with just his acoustic guitar with a tiny piano overdub and left his studio output at that as sadly passed away a couple years after its release from an accidental-ish overdose of antidepressants. Despite the dark context, the album’s intentional ‘less is more’ production works wonders for the eleven tracks it holds. It also puts a strong emphasis on the impeccable guitar work by Drake, whose finger-picking style on the album is properly introduced on its third track, ‘Road’.

On the songs that precede ‘Road’, those being the title track and ‘Place to Be’, Drake plays his guitar with a lively strum. There’s an energy behind the chord changes that occur under the words he sings in both. But just as the last chord of ‘Place to Be’ fades to silence, ‘Road’ comes in with a finger-picked pattern that contrasts the low strings with the higher ones which ring out and shine like the sun on a clear winter morning. That’s right. Metaphors for you. That pattern then segues into another which focuses on a melody on the lower strings, utilising triplet timing for a brief second, before going back to the initial pattern the track began with and eventually getting to Drake’s vocal. I could actually go through a line-by-line analysis of this song. There are only four of them in there. I’d like to think Drake thought the guitar figures were too good that he didn’t have to fill the song up too much lyrically. Most likely he thought he said all that needed to be said in those few words.

The guitar work may give an idea of hope and optimism. To some anyway, most might not see that at all. But if you do get that idea, it’s to deceive you away from the actual resentment and bitterness Drake expresses in the lyric. “You can say the sun is shining if you really want to” – You can say everything fine and dandy. “I can see the moon, and it seems so clear” – I can see things for the way the way they really are. It’s not all that good. “You can take a road that takes you to the stars” – You can take a path in life that’ll bring you fame and fortune. “I can take a road that’ll see me through.” – I’m just looking to make it to the end of the day. Or something along those lines. That’s how I see it. So there’s a fine example of juxtaposition going on here between music and lyric. But it’s that juxtaposition, present here and very much throughout the album, that gives the track that edge. Plus, the melodies are great and it’s very easy to sing along to. And the sound of those guitar strings are wonderful.

#1128: Billy Talent – River Below

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Ah, the very first song I ever heard by Billy Talent. I can sort of remember it like it happened a few weeks ago. I want to say it was late 2003, but Wikipedia says the track was released as a single in the summer of 2004, so it couldn’t have been. I know I was in Year 4 at the time, so those two years check out. I was watching MTV2 as per usual, its video showed up, and I genuinely thought it was the greatest song I had ever heard. If this did happen in 2004 – which thinking about it now, it probably did – I was just about getting into rock music as a whole, spurred on by a huge liking for The Darkness. ‘River Below’ showed up on whatever day it was, the guitar riff was killer, I thought the chorus was amazing, it was unlike any other type of song I’d come across. Take into account I was either eight or nine, so cut me some slack.

The song was awesome. But because I was so young, I didn’t have the attention span to properly absorb the artist/song name when they appeared on the little banner that popped up near the end of the video. And for more than a year, I was left wondering what the name of that cool song I saw on MTV2 that one time was. “Into the river below/Running from the inferno….” – I could have sworn I typed those words into Google and nothing would ever come up. It was an itch that desperately needed to be scratched. Eventually I did find it. Someone decided to use it as the music for their Ed, Edd ‘n’ Eddy music video, which had been uploaded on a fansite dedicated to the cartoon. That show is one of the most underappreciated of its kind, by the way. The search was over. The song was just as I remembered. And that started my obsession with Billy Talent, as I went to their website, listened to the songs they allowed to be played in full on there + the music videos and found that I had a new favourite band on my hands. A strong following of the band that would last for many a year started via this very song.

And with all the personal stuff out the way, let’s put a little more focus on the subject at hand. The track’s lyrics describe a man who’s a little messed up in the head, has never been able to fit in and generally feels the world’s against him. He makes a bomb, planning to take himself out and other innocent people in the process, taking them into ‘the river below’ upon their quick and sudden deaths. It’s a nasty subject matter and a bit of a commentary/take on the same types of people who commit devastating acts of terror for news recognition, using situations like Columbine, the ’95 Oklahoma Bombing and the then-recent 2002 sniper attacks in Washington D.C. as inspiration. Like a lot of Billy Talent songs, Ian D’Sa’s guitar playing is very much the highlight throughout, playing licks and guitar phrases that sound like the work of two people. There’s a call/response dynamic going on through the verses. D’Sa and bassist John Gallant are the callers with lead vocalist Ben Kowalewicz retorting. There’s the cool pre-chorus, again with D’Sa’s unique chord progressions, and it falls into the almighty chorus, which I think is one of the best in the band’s catalogue. There are a lot of songs in this style that I used to like but wouldn’t think of listening to in these times. But 20 years on, ‘River Below’ is still one-of-a-damn kind. Just as good as I first remembered, then forgot, then found again.

#1127: Massive Attack – Risingson

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Massive Attack’s Mezzanine is an album that’s generally regarded to be a stone-cold classic. In music, yes. But especially within the trip-hop genre that the collective from Bristol practically brought into existence. The record taps into a darkness and possesses this sinister aura that I feel a lot of people couldn’t have seen coming. Blue Lines and Protection, the two albums already released by the outfit, were arguably more-relaxed and optimistic in their delivery. I say that, it might not have been such a surprise. The album’s second track ‘Risingson’ had already been released to the public as its first single, nine months before Mezzanine’s arrival, and was the sign that there was certainly something different to be expected on the LP that was on the way.

I don’t think I listened to Mezzanine in full until about 2013, when I was going through a best ever album list on a website somewhere. ‘Teardrop’ was the only song on there I was accustomed to, having seen its video multiple times on the TV. There was something effortlessly atmospheric and as I said before dark about the entire project. I downloaded it to my computer. It sat there for a while. Then I revisited it in 2018 or so, and it was then that I suddenly recognised ‘Risingson’ as a ‘new’ favourite. Its ‘toy-like people make me boy-like’ lyric was one that had been stuck in my head for years since that first time, but with that re-listen, I had a new found appreciation for the slick bass line, those reverbs on 3D’s ‘dream on’ vocals that float like dust into the either, Daddy G’s nod to ‘Where Have All the Flowers Gone’ by the Kingston Trio, the ‘I Found a Reason’ Velvet Underground sample that comes in near the end. Little things like that. It was also upon research with a new-found interest in the song that I learned it also had a music video too. A cool one at that, directed by Walter Stern, where the band are in a house that’s being attacked. A lot of tension’s built where it looks like the members are in danger or are on the brink of being harmed. But it’s a happy ending as absolutely nothing happens to them.

The song’s lyrics concern the goings on in a dank nightclub, observed from the perspectives of both 3D and Daddy G in their respective verses, who particularly make notes on how people seem to change once drugs come into the picture. The former watches on with a sort of disinterest and pity, the latter wants to leave altogether. They deliver their words in talk-singing styles that seem to symbolize their numbness to the whole ordeal. And against a hypnotizing groove with contrasting melodic elements in the mix, it makes everything being described by the two vocalists sound shady and of a questionable nature. The making of Mezzanine was one that was fuelled with tension and frustration between members. Its production and the drastic sonic shift in tone was something that member Andrew “Mushroom” Vowles couldn’t get along with. So much so that he left the outfit soon after the album’s release. The trio Massive Attack was at the time became a duo. It was a six-year wait until the next album. They were never quite the same.

#1126: Brakes – Ring a Ding Ding

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No more Brakes after this one. Some of you may read this post and think, “So?” Maybe this is the first song you would have ever heard by the band. Well, if that’s the case, this would be a good place to start. ‘Ring a Ding Ding’ is the first song on the band’s debut album Give Blood, released back in 2005. The first song I’d ever heard by this band was ‘All Night Disco Party’, which you can listen to and read about via clicking on the title name. That’s a fun one. It’s also on the same album. Choruses come at you fast throughout the record, in styles ranging from country to disco to punk, no time to dwell on verses, and it all begins with this track right here. There’s an official music video for this song, which for some reason isn’t on YouTube. You can see it on Apple Music, though.

‘Ring’ opens with a small “woo”, a confident strumming of an F-sharp chord and some guitar feedback before the band come in altogether with Eamon Hamilton’s gravelly vocal. The narrator here describes the messed-up state he’s in brought about by the nonsensical, surreal things that are happening around him. There’s a cowboy in the court who’s singing to the monkey macaroni (which I think is meant to be a dance of some kind) and he finds solace in Super Skipper Sue who he hopes will provide some comfort to him. What I take the song to be is a big metaphor of going to work, just being sick of the people and different characters you have to deal with on a daily basis, and them coming home to your girlfriend/wife/significant other who makes things better when you walk through the door. But going literal with the lyrics wouldn’t make it that interesting, would it? After a passing mention of the phrase from which the album gets its name from, the song ends abruptly, leaving you hanging for a short while before proceedings continue on the following track.

Yeah, BrakesBrakesBrakes. They were a good band. They are a good band. Still not sure whether they’ve split up or not. The band’s Touchdown is their most recent album to date, and it was released 15 years ago. Not looking like there’s any new music on the horizon, which is a shame. But like so many of those UK indie bands from the 2000s, they just seemed to fade away. Pitchfork described Give Blood as ‘a gift to short attention spans everywhere’, and that is very much a sentiment that could be carried for the other two albums that make up what I guess you would call a trilogy. Don’t think things got as unpredictable as they were on Give Blood, which is why I would say it’s my favourite of the three. You can find the band on your local streaming platform. Can’t go wrong with any album you start with.

#1125: Ween – Right to the ways and the rules of the world

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Maybe the best way to listen to The Pod is through the way its broken up on its vinyl releases. Split up into four sides, having the time to digest one of those at a time with some breaks in between would probably allow a new listener to at least digest the 15-20 minutes that each side of vinyl provides. I didn’t do this. When I was fully on my Ween exploration in 2015, I dove headfirst into the album on Spotify and listened to it the whole way through. All 76 minutes. That first time was a slog. I don’t know if you know, but the album is known for having extremely shitty production, even though a lot of the songs are classics. At least to us Ween fans, anyway. ‘Right to the ways and the rules of the world’ is only the seventh track on there. On that first listen, it felt like I’d been listening to the album for much longer than when the song arrived. And it also felt like it went on for a lot more than the mere five minutes it lasts for.

Now of course I’m used to it all. The track is a slow, slow one though. Coming after the little non-song of ‘Pollo Asado’ (a very popular one for Ween people), ‘Right…’ is what I believe to be a mimic of those old, melodramatic ’70s progressive rock songs by bands who would write about things like folklore or traditions of the past… myths and legends and the like. Gene and Dean Ween take on this melodramatic route, singing about nothing but a bunch of silliness – brilliant imagery though, gotta be said – all of which is crowned by the aloof harmonies that recite the song’s title phrase. “Monsters that trinkle like cats in the night/The cosmic conceiver continues his plight.” Those are just the first couple of lines.

The screeching organ that blares throughout is the melodic linchpin throughout the song, really hammering home that sort of medieval type of sound that I think the song’s going for. Something of a vocal chameleon, Gene Ween puts in another captivating performance. Increasing in intensity throughout, it culminates in the final verse where he lets out a shriek and then falls into a fit of laughter as the instrumental continues. Some people may argue that the song takes some momentum out of the album’s proceedings. Whatever “momentum” that may be, going through this album can feel like being in a state of purgatory sometimes. It’s just as essential as any other track on there, I feel. The production is so murky, you could almost choke on it. But the song at the core of it stands strong.