Tag Archives: my ipod

#1075: The Who – Pure and Easy

Look at that. Another Who song. So, the consensual opinion is that Who’s Next is their best album, right? I mean, I’d agree it’s an outstanding piece of work. I think Quadrophenia‘s better, but we’ve been through all of this already. But did you know that Who’s Next started off as a completely different monster altogether? There’s a whole Wikipedia section dedicated to the Lifehouse project, envisioned by Pete Townshend to be another rock opera, following on from Tommy, this time with a more science-fiction take to it and accompanied with this thought-out live show performance experience. At least I think it was something along those lines. But no one apart from him could understand the opera’s plot line, and so the whole thing was laid to the wayside except for eight of the nine songs that became the album we know today.

‘Pure and Easy’ was one of the tracks recorded during the Lifehouse/Who’s Next sessions. As part of the Lifehouse story, it was meant to act as something of the theme song for the opera’s protagonist and also introduced the concept of music/rock and roll being able to save the world – or something along that effect – that the opera’s plot was based on. Townshend has gone on record to state his great disappointment that the song wasn’t included on the final cut. It did however make a small appearance on there, with Daltrey singing a different take of the song’s first lines during the ending of ‘The Song Is Over’. Two versions of ‘Pure’ have been commercially released. There’s the take of the track that appeared on a Who’s Next reissue. It’s faster, and a lot of people like it for that reason alone. But the version that trumps that by many a mile in my eyes is the one that appeared in the band’s Odds & Sods compilation. It’s the one you can see up there. It’s slower, but the performance sounds massive in comparison.

Think it’s saying something about Townshend’s writing at the time that the band decided to leave this song in storage for so long. ‘Cause a track like this could be any other band’s greatest ever achievement. Lyrics aren’t my thing usually, but even here when I hear the words and read them, there’s a definite beauty and poetic feeling to them. “I listened and I heard music in a word/And words when you played your guitar/The noise that I was hearing was a million people cheering/And a child flew past me riding in a star”. I mean, that’s a pretty cool set of lines, I think. And Daltrey sings ’em really nicely too. Track’s filled with these uplifting key changes and guitar hooks, there’s a massive change to a minor for the bridge, before switching back and finishing off with a rocking finale as Pete Townshend takes over the microphone, telling the listener to listen out for the note. Poorly typed out words can only do this one so much justice. Would suggest taking the time to hear it, really.

#1074: The Who – The Punk and the Godfather

Been a long time since I’ve written about a track from Quadrophenia. Looking at my phone, it appears the previous song from it would have come in the ‘I’ series. Couldn’t even begin to remember what year I was doing that in. I’m sure I would have discussed how much the album means to me (for lack of any less melodramatic phrase) in at least one post out of the eight songs I’ve covered from there in the past. But I’ll sum it up here by saying simply it’s my favourite Who album by miles, came across it when I was 15 and feeling a bit lost and it seemed like the perfect soundtrack for the whole time. Plus, the four band members are firing on all cylinders on every cut. I’m a big fan of By Numbers too, but there is a reason why many a person including Pete Townshend himself regards Quadrophenia as the last great Who album.

The big point about Quadrophenia is that it’s a rock opera. One about a kid named Jimmy who’s a Mod, trying to find where he belongs in the Mod scene, all while having a sort of split personality disorder, separated into four different characters based on the four individuals of The Who. These four personalities also have their own individual musical motifs that will appear in one song, become the main refrain in another, before then appearing again as maybe a little melodic hook somewhere else. It’s a whole thing. You really should hear the record in its entirety. In the album’s fifth track, ‘The Punk and/meets the Godfather’, Jimmy goes to see a band to find some kind of inspiration in the dull life. The track takes on the narrative perspectives of who I think are the security letting the people into the venue, or the punks, and the performers onstage who try to possess the audience in the palms of their hands.

This might just be my favourite Who song. It’s definitely up there. Like I said earlier, every instrument strum/strike/finger pick is delivered with a ferocious urge. Those slamming beginning power chords set the scene, Keith Moon amps it up with his hectic drum fills. John Entwistle enters the frame by mimicking the strum pattern of the guitar chords on his bass guitar and they all fall together to allow Roger Daltrey to begin his vocal. Daltrey knocks it out the park here too. Upon the initial listen years ago, I thought another person began singing when it came to the “I’m the guy in the sky…” choruses. But it’s just him putting on a voice, I guess to just help him reach those notes. Townshend offers his own vocal during the song, coming in during the gentler, introspective bridge – one where he harmonises with himself too. After the final chorus, the dust settles with the melodic stuttering of ‘My generation’ among a twinkling acoustic guitar, a fantastic bass riff and the sound of an audience cheering. It’s like they’re applauding the song that’s just happened. In the story though, Jimmy’s left disappointed and disillusioned by it all. It’s a beautiful track. Might just listen to it right now.

#1073: Supergrass – Pumping on Your Stereo

Back in the old days, I’d find myself flicking through the music video channels as per usual. Some of those times, I’d come across the ending of the video for Supergrass’s 1999 tune ‘Pumping on Your Stereo’. I can’t remember ever seeing its video from front to back in one sitting. It’d always be on its way to finishing, and I’d change the channel to find it at the point where the band hit that huge ending chord followed by the studio chatter that comes afterwards. Then YouTube came around and that was quickly rectified. Supergrass videos were something of a regular occurrence on the TV. And after seeing them for myself and coming to the conclusion that this band were actually really great, their albums were a usual request in any Christmas/birthday list whenever those times came around.

‘Pumping…’ is found on the band’s self-titled album. It’s a bit of a party, good times rollin’, sing-along get together of a song. The band repeatedly ask the listener if we can hear them pumping on our stereos. They also don’t hide the fact that they’re clearly singing ‘humping on your stereo’ throughout the entire thing. Even in the music video, the word ‘humping’ is visibly mimed by the band members. Not that I’m complaining though. I don’t mean to be if it sounds like I am. The whole thing reminds me of how the Beatles got away with singing ‘tit’ in ‘Girl’. Someone probably questioned the band whether the band were singing ‘humping’, to which they said no and said they were singing ‘pumping’ instead. At least that’s the story I’ve come to in my head.

Really though, the song’s not really about anything of any great importance. There’s a bit of an allusion about feeling lost while touring and being on the road in the second verse. But everything sounds so groovy and cheery that it very much slips by. I don’t think it’s any secret that the lyrics are something of an afterthought in a lot of Supergrass songs. But what matters is that they all sound good in the context, and the main chorus does its job of getting stuck in your head in the melodic mantra-like way it’s delivered. The track I think is also the first in Supergrass’s discography in which they really wore their glam-rock, Bowie/Bolan, T-Rex influences on their sleeves. They would dive even deeper into them on the album that followed Supergrass. But the seeds were sewn right here.

#1072: Green Day – Pulling Teeth

Green Day’s ‘Pulling Teeth’ gets a bit of an unfair deal. The sixth track on the band’s massive breakthrough major-label debut Dookie from 1994, it’s sandwiched by two of the trio’s most well-known and well-beloved songs (singles, too) in ‘Welcome to Paradise’ and ‘Basket Case’. Kinda sticks out like a sore thumb in its placement too, marking a sudden change in pace compared to the other songs that surround it on the album’s first half. But with all that being said, I’d still much rather listen to ‘Pulling Teeth’ rather than those other two. Would explain why there isn’t a ‘Basket Case’ post on here, nor will there be one for ‘Paradise’ either. I’ve just heard both too many times, you know? Sort of lost their power after a while.

The lyrics don’t leave much to the imagination. What you see/hear is what you get. And what that is is the account of a narrator who’s been physically abused by their girlfriend and is having a bit of an internal crisis about the whole situation. Inspired by a real-life incident where bassist Mike Dirnt broke both his elbows during a playful pillow-fight with an ex-girlfriend, the track takes things to the next level where this injury is caused on purpose leaving the narrator to deal with something of a bit of an existential crisis as they ponder on whether this relationship is really worth continuing with all the pain that’s bound to happen.

And despite the somewhat heavy subject matter, the track’s general tone is one of a relaxed kind that’s established from the very start with those dream-like, hazy guitar chords. They only alternate between two chords, but just the sound of them have this entrancing quality which I can’t pin down a cause to. Billie Joe Armstrong and Mike Dirnt pretty much harmonize throughout the whole track on lead vocals, and I can’t think of another Green Day song where this occurs. From what I know, it’s usually Mike Dirnt coming up with harmonies here and there. But for an entire track? Surely, this must be the only one. I’ve seen comments that commend it for its Beatles-like quality, which I guess I can see. Not sure about similarities to the Beatles myself. I hear an almost surf-rock influence in there, but I don’t know of any bands to base this opinion on. Whatever’s going on here, I’m all for it. Everyone will go for the big hits from Dookie, but from the majority of other posts I’ve done for the album on here, you can see I’m for the deeper cuts. And with that, you’ll never see Dookie here again. More Green Day though, for sure.

#1071: Talking Heads – Pulled Up

A lot of Talking Heads songs I’ve written about on here tend to come from Fear of Music. There’s one other one post on here for a track from Remain in Light. There would be so many more songs on here, had the timing been different. Like in the case of tracks from the band’s debut album Talking Heads:77, I’ll only be able to cover ‘Uh-Oh Love Comes to Town’ and the closer ‘Pulled Up’. I’m a huge advocate for ‘The Book I Read’, ‘Don’t Worry About the Government’ and ‘First Week/Last Week… Carefree’. Alas, there time wasn’t ever to come on here. That might leave you asking, “Well, where’s the post for ‘Psycho Killer’, eh?” And the answer is, I rather prefer this live version to the one that you can listen to all the time on say, Spotify, for example.

But speaking of ‘Psycho Killer’, it comes before ‘Pulled Up’ on the record and, as a result, provides probably the most notable mood whiplash in the band’s discography. After a creepy-creep song with French lyrics and hectic breakdown ending about comes this great mood boosting, uplifting track about a person who’s been feeling low and down but has now gained a new lease of life via the help of an undisclosed presence. David Byrne sings from the perspective of a man, could even be himself – I don’t see why not, who’s now living a life of success and basically wants everyone to know how good he’s feeling. With a little help from friends/family/unrevealed sources, he’s found the strength to overcome his adversities and come out the other side with a brighter outlook on life. Seems too good to be true if we’re discussing a Talking Heads song here, but I think the track’s as genuine as it gets.

Tracks filled with those usual Talking Heads quirks. Byrne is as eccentric as ever in his vocal delivery, covering a range from restrained yelping melodies to wild, barbaric howls. He’s anything but inhibited when it comes to recording vocal takes. He even chuckles a little on the “There’s really no hurry, I’ll eat in a while” lyric, something which I always thought was because it doesn’t even attempt to rhyme with the line that comes before it. Only he’ll know what’s so funny about it, I guess. But in general, the whole track from its music to the tempo to all the ascending scales (a typical characteristic of songs about going up) make for such a relieving burst of energy, something that builds and builds until it finally releases with the strike of the song’s final chord and thus the album’s. Talking Heads album endings never disappointed, and they set the bar high on the first go.