Tag Archives: my ipod

#1095: Gorillaz – Re-Hash

Well, I don’t have so much of a personal connection with Gorillaz’s first album as I do with, say, Plastic Beach. That debut album was released back in 2001, when I would have been five, but I do remember seeing the videos for ‘Clint Eastwood’ and ’19-2000′ at the time and being confused by the former and sort of more aware of what was going on with the latter. I didn’t come round to hearing Gorillaz in full until 2010 or so. Plastic Beach was, then, the new album, and everyone knew about Demon Days – think I got that for my birthday that same year – so it only made sense to complete the trilogy by downloading it off the random mp3 sites that you could go to in those days and hearing where it all started.

‘Re-Hash’ is the opener. Where it all started. Commercially, at least, I think I read somewhere that the very first song made under the Gorillaz name was ‘Ghost Train’. Though you all understand where I’m coming from. I feel like I read somewhere that the song is meant to be a veiled criticism of the simplicity and repetitiveness of the general music scene that was going on around 2001, when people like Britney Spears and N*Sync and other manufactured pop groups were existing. This was something that irked Damon Albarn, and was one of the main reasons that he and Jamie Hewlett created Gorillaz in the first place, and so it only made sense that he mimicked the thing that was so “hot” at the time. Hence why ‘Re-Hash”s dub bassline and drum pattern barely changes throughout the song, or why the lyrics in the second are the same as the first. And the chorus is made up of only one line, “It’s the money or stop”, another phrase that is repeated to high heaven. But in that is where the meaning lies. It’s all for the money.

It’s songs like this that make me miss the Gorillaz of old times. I’m sure I’ve said this before in the previous Gorillaz album-related post many moons ago, but this clean pop direction that Albarn’s taken the project to in recent times is one that I couldn’t care less about. You could expect something different from each upcoming Gorillaz album 15-20 years ago, which somehow immediately worked, but since coming back in 2017, things haven’t clicked with me as immediately as they once did. The trip-hop, dubby era of Gorillaz is one that I have a lot of heart for, even if people will die by the sword and say Demon Days is the certified classic. I mean it’s all right, I do like it myself. But I really like this.

#1094: The Strokes – Razorblade

Been a while since I wrote about a song from The Strokes’ First Impressions of Earth on here. Last time was 2019, goodness, that feels like a lifetime ago. Having listened to that album a few times over the years, I’ve come to the conclusion that the particular album has some of the band’s best songs of their catalogue on there. It also suffers from having the dullest 11/12 minutes on there out of all the records they’ve made. The stretch of ‘Killing Lies’, ‘Fear of Sleep’ and ’15 Minutes’ is, in my eyes, not so great. I can never remember how those songs go after hearing them. That’s not the case for ‘Razorblade’ though, no, no. That’s one of for the best songs category.

Now, I remember the release of First Impressions pretty well. I was in my final year of primary school, 10 going on 11. The video for ‘Juicebox’ appeared on the TV and was shown very regularly during the day despite how racy it got. I dug the track. Now, not so much, but that’s going in another direction. My sister was going through a Strokes phase herself, and a school friend of hers lent her a First Impressions CD, which she immediately ripped onto Windows Media Player and returned to that friend not too long after. And even with that nice origin story, it took me years until I actually listened to ‘Razorblade’ in full and appreciated how good it was. Being that young an age, I don’t think I had the patience to sit through albums and mainly listened for the singles. It definitely could have been a single, though. If I was 17 years older, in the band and had my way, I would have made an argument for it.

The song’s this somewhat upbeat sounding song about emotional manipulation. I say upbeat because I hear that opening guitar riff by Nick Valensi in the left channel, those fiddly guitar lines he does during the verses, or Albert Hammond Jr’s solid rhythm guitar work all throughout, and I can’t help but think there’s something summery about the sound of it all. Like all this relationship turbulence is happening at the beach. Julian Casablancas is not singing about an actual razorblade here. The razorblade is a metaphor for love, as he states in the first line of the track, and he places this razorblade as the central component within this relationship of a couple who sound like they can’t stand each other, but, deep down, care for each deeply. Casablanca’s melody choices and delivery, that chorus reminds me of one of those old schoolchildren taunts from back in the day, make it sound like the whole affair’s pretty trivial and a bit silly. But love can be that way, I guess.

#1093: Pavement – Rattled by the Rush

This song does have an official music video, but because it uses its radio edit, the guitar solo is cut out entirely. It’s only right that I have the album version up here first. I’ll embed the video after the final paragraph, though. Now that that’s out of the way, let’s get into this properly. ‘Rattled by the Rush’ is the second track on Pavement’s Wowee Zowee, the band’s third album, released just over a year after Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain. Story goes that critics couldn’t wait for Wowee Zowee to arrive because Crooked Rain… was just that good, but when it came around they were somewhat disappointed in its sprawling, eclectic direction, coming to the conclusion that Pavement were trying to sabotage their careers and were afraid of success. Stephen Malkmus replied to these notions, stating that it was mainly the marijuana usage that steered things along. It was also the marijuana that made ‘Rattled…’ sound like a smash hit to him, which resulted in it being released as the album’s first single.

If I tried to explain on here what I think ‘Rattled by the Rush’ is about, it’d probably be a waste of your time and mine. And no matter what Genius might have to say about it, I think this song is one of those occasions where the lyrics are just what they are and don’t have to be interpreted to any length or depth. There’s a clear stream of consciousness technique to them, the second verse in particular is a favourite of mine in terms of the rhyming and the words used in general, with ideas of one line running into a different idea in another (“cross your t’s, shirt smell”), and the words are accompanied by this stop-starting rhythm that makes it all sound very awkward, like it’s struggling to get going, before cascading into these heavy guitar breakdowns after the choruses. It’s a strange, strange song for sure. Especially one to choose for a first single. ‘Grounded’ was right there. But you’ve got to give it to Pavement for sticking to their principles.

The music video for the song caused some controversy back in the day. The band chose the guy who directed their former drummer’s ‘Plant Man’ music video to do the same job with ‘Rattled…’ (If you have questions about that linked song, don’t ask.) Band members mentioned that it wasn’t the greatest experience filming the video, and when it was shown on MTV2, it was banned for making people too dizzy because of the constantly spinning/zooming in and out camera work. An additional music video was made to make it more “pleasant” to watch, where the original video is shown on a bathroom tile next to a grotty bathtub. Fair to say, the track deserved better in terms of visuals.

#1092: They Might Be Giants – Rat Patrol

Until 2007’s The Else, They Might Be Giants’ 1996 album Factory Showroom had the distinct characteristic of being the album by the band with the fewest tracks on there, a mere 13, compared to the 18, 19 or even 38 that fans had become so used to. I’ve built it in my head that the reasoning for the reduction in numbers was a reaction to Showroom‘s predecessor John Henry, which had 20 tracks, but was also almost an hour in length – almost a double album in TMBG respects. They Might Be Giants recorded many more songs than those that eventually appeared on Showroom, a few of appeared a few years later on 1999’s Long Tall Weekend, the group’s equivalent of Physical Graffiti in that it included new songs and oldies from previous album sessions that’d been left on the cutting room floor. ‘Rat Patrol’ was one of those Showroom outtakes.

Before ‘Rat Patrol’ ended up being the two-minute minor-key, almost heavy, hard-rocking Linnell-sung composition that it is, the original demo recorded for it revealed much more simpler beginnings. Sometimes played on their Dial-a-Song service, the recording is John Flansburgh singing the lyrics a capella in an kind of showtime-y fashion. Clearly a lot of fleshing out needed to be done. Flansburgh once stated that the track “caused quite a bit of division-even among those within the inner sanctum of TMBG”. Why it caused the division, we’ll never know. But somewhere along the way, decisions were made to let John Linnell take the lead vocal (Flansburgh sings in unison with those high-pitched backing vocals) and turn the track into a thrilling ride with dueling/harmonising guitar lines and dramatic piano/guitar vamps.

According to the band’s great Wikipedia-esque fansite, the ‘rat patrol’ phrase was taken from an American TV show of the same name that aired between 1966 and 1968. Not the first time that television has influenced a song or two by the Giants. And I’ve always sort of imagined this track being the very dramatic theme song for a TV show that’s waiting to be made. It probably wouldn’t work too well though. There’s something very menacing and almost frightening about this track. It’s also described in a TMBG document as ‘witchy rocker’, and I can understand, it is quite spooky. Like that lingering falsetto note by Linnell at the end that echoes off into the distance and eventually into silence. I wouldn’t want to hear that at night when I’m walking home alone. It’s a shame this didn’t make it onto Factory Showroom. I’d have had it as a hidden track after ‘The Bells Are Ringing’ to bring a more mysterious end to proceedings. What do I know about album sequencing, though.

#1091: The Automatic – Raoul

Whoa, whoa, whoa, this is the first time I’m talking about The Automatic on here? That just doesn’t seem right. It’s very much the truth, though. Anyone who doesn’t know who The Automatic are, they’re one of the countless, many, multitude of indie bands from the UK that appeared really from out of nowhere during the mid-2000s. They released three albums, one would follow with a little less success after the other, and what was meant to be a temporary break starting in 2010 became clear that the band was never going to get back together any time soon after a few years had passed. Today’s track, ‘Raoul’, is taken from their 2006 debut Not Accepted Anywhere, which also included their signature tune ‘Monster’ and ‘Recover’, which will get its own post on here very soon from what I can tell.

‘Raoul’ is the second track on that album, was released as the band’s second single ever and was also the second song of the group’s that I got to know. After hearing/seeing another song of theirs before on MTV2, which I took note of immediately ’cause I liked it so much, maybe some months or so had gone and there appeared a new music video for this new single. So many times on here, I’ve been able to recall to the best of my ability how I felt when hearing a particular song for the first time. Whether I was impressed or had my doubts. When it comes to this one though… I’m sure I thought it was good, and that was about it. It did the job. I don’t think I liked it as much as the single that came before it, but I liked it enough that I was intrigued by what the band would come up with next. Or at least whatever the equivalent of “intrigued” is to the 10/11-year-old that I would have been at the time.

The song is an ode to the owner of the sandwich shop where the band would go to get away from periods of heaviness and tension in the studio. But ‘Raoul’ is also meant to symbolise that centre of freedom that people may go to and find solace in when their day-to-day routine is starting to get to them a little bit. The band go see Raoul, and after doing so make the decision to ‘go back to work’, which is repeated until the song’s end. After the band’s success with ‘Monster’ making the top five in the UK singles chart, the decision was made by their record label to re-release the song in 2007 to capitalise on the momentum. Either the song was remixed or re-recorded. In the end, to me, it didn’t sound as good as the original. Got a fancy new music video for it, though.