Tag Archives: my ipod

#1035: Good Shoes – The Photos on My Wall

Leave a reply

Well, this’ll be the last song by Good Shoes I cover on here. It’s been fun. I’ve written about only two others. But they’re worthwhile to check out. Of course they are, otherwise I wouldn’t have bothered to express my great thoughts about them. Out of these three, ‘The Photos on My Wall’ is the one that I have the least of a personal attachment to. It was the second single to be released from the band’s 2007 debut album Think Before You Speak, the album title also taken from a lyric within the song, but I don’t think I properly listened to it in full until years later. Think it may have been used in an Inbetweeners episode or something. Hearing the song in that context made me want to search it out, and upon that revisit, it became an instant add to the library.

Here’s another case where I’ve heard the track for so long, but never thought to take time out to what the lyrics are going on about. So here it is, my first analysis into them. Well, I’ll say that I think the narrator here expresses a similar view to the one in fellow Good Shoes song ‘Never Meant to Hurt You’. They’re both prone to saying things without thinking, hurting their significant other in the process. Though while the narrator shows at least some remorse in ‘Never Meant…’, the voice in ‘Photos’ knows their shortcomings, but isn’t willing to do anything to improve themselves. Though then again, when Rhys Jones sings ‘I think I could do better/So arrogant’, maybe that’s him saying he could be a better person, realising that he can be a bit full of himself. All this time I thought he was saying he could do better as in finding someone more suitable to be in a relationship with. Though I guess there could be the intentional double-meaning… You see? You get me started on lyrics and I’ll never stop. Thoughts just pour out of me.

The track’s under two minutes. Perky and upbeat in its delivery. I believe the riff that opens the track was what I heard on the Inbetweeners. Or at least some show similar to that that would be showing on Channel 4. Wherever it was, it reminded me that the song did exist and that maybe I should check it out because it sounded so damn catchy. By that point, Good Shoes would have just released their second album No Hope, No Future. Maybe that title was an omen of some sorts because the band broke up after its release. Another one of those countless indie rock bands of the ’00s falling by the wayside. A shame. But they did make some great tunes.

#1034: The Kinks – Phenomenal Cat

Leave a reply

You know, for all the talk that the Kinks’ Village Green Preservation Society album gets about it being threaded by a theme of looking back on the past, thinking of the good times and trying to maintain those good old-fashioned values in the present day – the second half of the album deviates from all of this quite drastically, containing songs about the local prostitute, Ray Davies’s account of an embarrassing period of his life and a spooky witch-like character. ‘Phenomenal Cat’ also arrives in this half of the album and is about what it says in its title.

From observing a lot of artist/band interviews from the 1960s, I’ve come to gather that the word ‘cat’ was generally used to refer to another person. “I saw that cat walking down the street the other day…”, “He’s a cool cat, man.” Etcetera, etcetera. Well, in this song’s case, Ray Davies has written the track as a story about a literal cat who has travelled the world and spends its days in a tree. Sort of in the spirit of the Beatles’ ‘Yellow Submarine’, I think it’s meant to be a bit of a children’s song. In the land of idiot boys, the cat lived in a tree and ate a lot, but wasn’t shy in telling the people who were willing to listen all the places that he had been to in its life. To anyone who can’t decipher the lyrics, the locations are: Cowes, Sardinia, Kathmandu, the Scilly Isles and the Sahara.

Gotta love those Mellotron flutes that are a mainstay throughout the entire track. Those flutes at the beginning that are sort of unrelated to the rest of the song that follows are a bunch of preset samples on a Mellotron that could be activated just by pressing the right keys. You too can play the song’s intro if you own one yourself. But a big nod has to go to the band’s performance too. Everything about the track is so softly and tastefully delivered, from those flutes to Davies’ vocal delivery, capped off with pitched-up wordless vocals courtesy of Dave Davies who provides the voice of the cat during the choruses. All the components provide a hazy, psychedelic fairytale feel. If only we could all be as content with life as this fat cat.

#1033: Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks – Phantasies

Leave a reply

Does anyone out there have an insight as to how Stephen Malkmus feels about his early, early “solo” albums with the Jicks? I guess, just like any artist, as time goes on you become more focused and familiar with the more recent stuff and you may not feel the same closeness you once had with that old material. Would be a bummer if that’s the case, because the Stephen Malkmus album from 2001 is my favourite out of the Jicks albums to date. Not saying that everything he’s done since then hasn’t matched up to it. I just enjoy a large number of the tracks on there.

‘Phantasies’ is the second song on the album, and going a unique way in terms of a lyrical narrative, Malkmus sings from the persepctive of, presumably, an Inuit living in Karakatu, Alaska – a town that doesn’t exist – and going about their daily business with their fellow Inuit colleague. It’s a nice, little, upbeat tune. Coming after the sorta surreal opener of ‘Black Book’, ‘Phantasies’ turns the album’s direction into a more approachable direction. And a fun one too. Malkmus sounds like he’s having a blast just singing it. There are keyboard-activated vocal samples that are played like a kid in high school when the teacher’s left the room. The synth that follows the vocal melody during the verses has a childlike innocence to it. The “Whoa a-whoa-ohs” in the choruses are kinda silly, but that’s really what the whole song is going for. Silly and carefree, but still with a lot of heart.

All of this, the music, the lyrics, the performance, the whole untroubled air of it all, I’ve come to link with Malkmus’ then-newfound freedom after the breakup of Pavement two years prior. There’s that clip of him in the last Pavement show where, with a pair of handcuffs dangling off his microphone, he says to the audience – “This is what it’s been like being in a band all these years.” Something along those lines. And now that was over, it was like a huge weight was lifted off his shoulders. The whole feeling of freedom isn’t confined to just this song though. The whole album revels in it. Malkmus sang he wasn’t having fun anymore on Pavement’s final album. In this song you can hear the huge difference in tone when he was.

#1032: The Beach Boys – Pet Sounds

Leave a reply

You know, I’ve always got time to spare for the appreciation of a good instrumental. Can’t remember the last time I covered one of those on here. Maybe one of you guys could look back and tell me. When you think of The Beach Boys’ Pet Sounds, your first spout of knowledge may go to ‘God Only Knows’. Considered to be one of the greatest songs of all time, that one. Maybe ‘Wouldn’t It Be Nice’. I’ve been hearing that in a lot of adverts lately. The instrumental title track, though? Not so much. But I honestly really enjoy this one, maybe even more than some other songs on there where the vocals are present.

‘Pet Sounds’ is the second of the two instrumental tracks on the album. ‘Let’s Go Away for Awhile’ may be in the hearts of listeners. But to me, ‘Pet Sounds’ wins the battle between them. It puts me in such a relaxed mood. Carried by a steady percussive backing of bongos, a guiro and oddly enough Coca-Cola cans with sticks, the track evokes bright sunny skies on a beach where the colours are vibrant, the people are looking their finest and the drinks are flowing. Either a beach or something like a cruise ship. You can pick whichever one you feel suits better, but the general feel always remains the same. Oh, and a huge note should go to the guitar which takes the lead, playing the song’s main melodic hook. Gotta love it on that first when it jumps an octave higher to repeat the line 52 seconds in.

Originally title ‘Run James Run’, Brian Wilson wrote the music with the intention to use it in a James Bond film. Don’t know about you, but that’s a bit humorous to me. Couldn’t think of any moment in that type of movie where this piece would work. Maybe at a point where Bond has retired, but that was never gonna be the case in 1966. It’s all too major-key in its approach. I appreciate it all the while. It’s something like the last ray of sunshine before it fades out and gives way to the album’s heartwrenching closer.

#1031: Bon Iver – Perth

Leave a reply

And so I’ve reached the first Bon Iver song in this series. Anyone expecting more, don’t get too excited. It’s also gonna be the last. Bon Iver goes into a self-noted group of indiehead-worshipped artists/acts that have never been that special to me. I only properly like three songs by Justin Vernon’s band. Songs that have left me feeling like I’d want to hear them again, and soon. Two of them beginning with letters coming before ‘P’. Have never been able to truly get into them, and I’ve listened to For Emma…, 22, A Million and Bon Iver, Bon Iver – the last of that list being the source of today’s song.

Now, Bon Iver, Bon Iver as an album, for the longest time, was a bit of an enigma to me. Up until about last year, I would hear the record, think it was nice, but have trouble recalling any of the songs I had just listened to. Up until about last year, I’d listened to the album about three times. That’s probably the most times I’d listened to try an album. Not for enjoyment purposes, but to try and ‘understand’ it. It’s probably the only album I’ve done that for. For an album that was so critically acclaimed, it didn’t seem so amazing to me. Still doesn’t, to be honest. A lot of people like ‘Holocene’. Think it’s one of Bon Iver’s best songs. I mean, it’s all right. For me though, ‘Perth’ has always been the special one from the album. It’s been on my shuffle playlist since at least 2016.

It all begins with the track’s opening riff. That’s really all you need when you listen to this one. As soon as you have that riff’s melody locked in your head, you’ll have it stored in there for the long time. I’m very sure that’s what made me add it to my list in the first place. Plus, the whole track relies on it. If there’s no riff, the song won’t work. The lyrics are said to be inspired by the death of Heath Ledger, so to say they have some importance may be an understatement. But even then I think the lyrics conjure up for imagery than being a recount of personal feelings. Vernon’s vocals to me add more to the music rather than being the focal standpoint. It’s the instrumentation that truly gives me chills when I hear this song. Every time too. Particularly during the “still alive for you, love” choruses and the instrumental ending that finishes with a goosebump-inducing chord. I see waves crashing off a shore in slow-motion in that section of the track, I don’t know what it is.