Tag Archives: my ipod

#1031: Bon Iver – Perth

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.

#1030: Pavement – Perfume-V

Slanted and Enchanted. Regarded by many to be Pavement’s best album. Regarded as one of the best indie-rock albums of the ’90s. I believe a few members of the band look fondly upon the album and the time it was made themselves. But personally, it’s low down on my ranking. Not that I think it’s bad. It has a few of their best songs on there. But then I hear how the songs are performed live compared to how they were released, and they just sound so much better in a live context. To be fair, I did listen to Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain before going back to it, so that may have played a part in my judgement.

When I did go through Slanted for that first time in 2012/2013, ‘Perfume-V’ wasn’t a track that I considered to be much of a highlight. Then again, I didn’t really like the whole lo-fi feeling the album was going for. Again, it just didn’t sound like Crooked Rain. It probably wasn’t until some years later where I watched videos of Pavement performing the track live, particularly this performance from their initial 2010 reunion tour and this from their ’92 Reading show, that I thought, “Hmm. This song’s actually pretty great.” It’s quite intense in its own short way. Gets a bit shoegazy at some points. No solos, no wandering breakdowns like you can get in many a Pavement track. It’s two verses, two choruses a bridge and then it’s outta there.

Not very clear on what it’s about. Contains the cryptic and surreal lyricism that Stephen Malkmus is known for. But to hazard a guess, I think it actually may be about a narrator who’s having severe guilt and a bit of an existential crisis after having a one-night stand with a prostitute. They question whether these one-nighters would actually be able to fulfil them for the long-term. When the sun comes up and the rays come down on the scene that’s happened on the bed, the narrator can’t help but be attracted to what they see, but still doesn’t feel too great about it. The rest of the lyrics is anyone’s guess. Well, all of what I’ve said is my guess too. But all in all, it’s always a good time when this one comes on shuffle.

#1029: Modest Mouse – Perfect Disguise

Unfortunately, this’ll be the last track from The Moon & Antarctica that I cover in this long-running series. There are many more that I could cover if I would, but they all precede the letter ‘P’. If you really wanted to know, they would be ‘Gravity Rides Everything’,‘A Different City’, ‘The Cold Part’, and ‘Alone Down There’. Some of you may argue that there should be at least a few clear contenders that should be coming up. But boo you, this is my list. ‘Perfect Disguise’ isn’t the worst note to leave on, anyway.

After the album’s three opening tracks raise the overall momentum to an all-time high – ‘Dark Center of the Universe’ is quite the intense number in particular – ‘Perfect Disguise’ comes in to slow things down and let the listener relax for just a few moments. Its introduction’s a slow build, starting with Isaac Brock’s lone guitar and followed by Eric Judy on bass and Jeremiah Green on drums. Judy’s bassline interweaves with the guitar, harmonising on instances while also maintaining its own melodic path. The three-piece’s performance here on its own is so relaxing, but is also added upon with a wailing guitar and banjo. Some twitchy synthesizers pan around the place during the verses. A great piece of music to just sink into a bed to.

Now, despite the alleviating music, the track’s lyrics concern a narrator’s realization that someone has been using them, or putting them down to in order to look better in comparison when in front of other people, and has chosen to not put up with their antics anymore. The narrator sarcastically wishes this other good luck in whatever these actions will lead them towards. And that’s really all there is to say. The harmonies throughout, which are singing ‘Broke my back’ but what I first thought were just some wordless vocals, repeat as the guitars fade out and alongside some glitch/spooky bleeps and bloops that transition into the next track. By itself, a bit of an erratic, sudden way to end things. When hearing it in the context of the album, though? Totally different experience. I reckon the track’s placement on there might give it a bit of an interlude-type track stigma, but to me it’s always been a highlight of mine for the relatuvely short time I’ve known it.

#1028: Lou Reed – Perfect Day

So before I knew that ‘Perfect Day’ was a Lou Reed song, I had only heard of it through one of those count down TV programs where celebrities were talking about a certain types of singles from the 1990s. ‘Perfect Day’ was chosen to be the single to represent the BBC Children in Need charity in 1997. It was a cover, and almost each line was sung by a different artist, from Elton John to Dr. John to Boyzone and countless others. I can’t remember what the exact category for that count down program was. But I only remember there was one guy who got a kick out of how Shane MacGowan sang the “It’s such fun” lyric with the most miserable look on his face. I’ll embed the video for it below. You’ll either think it’s all right or straight-up terrible.

Years later I’d find the original through listening to Lou Reed’s 1972 album Transformer, and hell yes this track is one of the best on there. Reed’s all quiet and up close to the microphone during the verses before the track opens up immensely into a grandiose chorus, backed by a glorious string arrangement courtesy of glam rock legend Mick Ronson. The track itself is about thoroughly appreciating the time spent with a loved one, doing things that relationship-people do like going to the movies and drinking in the park. Other activities are mentioned. And overall having a huge boost in mental health, feeling like a good person, rather than the sad, unstable person they would be when left alone for too long.

You see, I like that interpretation of the song. I think Lou Reed means just what he sings here. But a lot of people think it’s about really liking heroin. Then Trainspotting came out in the ’90s and everyone started to agree more that that’s what the song is really about. There’s no reason there couldn’t be a double meaning there. Plus, it wasn’t as if Lou Reed hadn’t covered that topic in another very, very popular song of his. But I truly think it’s as sincere as it gets here. The overall sentiment alongside the almost dramatic nature of the music, well, it’s almost enough to bring anyone to tears.

#1027: R.E.M. – Perfect Circle

Ah, R.E.M.’s Murmur. I’ve commented on this album before. How I came about it initially, and how I came to ultimately love it. For those not in the know, it’s not a long story. Heard it once in 2013. Went on to completely forget about it. Heard it again in 2017 and thought it was one of the greatest albums I’d heard up to that point. It’s a tie between it and Automatic for the People as my favourite record of theirs. The preference can change day-by-day. What I observed right away with Murmur was that the choruses on every song were downright incredible, even on the sole slower number ‘Perfect Circle’.

The record prides itself on a whole singer-not-making-sense-but-it-still-sounds-great theme, which I think endears a lot of people to it. The lyrics are more for the listener’s interpretation rather than setting a straight-up narrative or trying to signify a message. Placed right in the middle of it all, or as the closer to the first half if you’re a vinyl person, ‘Perfect Circle’ is something of the emotional centerpiece – even though it might be difficult to find something to latch onto with all the vague lyricism. For me, there’s a hint of something clear in the second verse, in which the song’s title is said for the one and only time in the song, where there’s a scene of friends getting together, drinking and enjoying each other’s company. But that’s all I can say at this time. Otherwise, I’m mostly getting lost in the comforting instrumental backdrop of pianos and lightly strummed guitars.

Whether this was well-known before 1998, I’m not sure, but it was that year when R.E.M. were on tour that they began to bring this track back to their live sets, announcing before they’d proceed to play it that the song was actually written by drummer Bill Berry. He had amicably left the band the year prior, and so every performance of the song was in dedication to him. By “written”, I think it would mean musically. Am sure Stipe was always behind the lyrics. But that the drummer was behind the music should be no surprise. It’s just another example of an R.E.M. song where Berry’s musicianship resulted in one of the band’s (in my opinion) best songs.