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#987: Pink Floyd – One of My Turns

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Within the story of The Wall, ‘One of My Turns’ comes at a point where the main character, Pink, finds out that his wife has been cheating on him while he, a rich musician, has been up to no good on the road himself. Despite his own wrongdoing, he obviously wasn’t prepared for the tables to be turned. He brings a groupie back to his apartment, sits down blankly staring at the television, and suddenly explodes in a fit of rage throwing his possessions around the room. Without properly delving into the whole concept, you’d only be able to sort of gauge what’s going on because of the sound effects that occur during the song. Thankfully, though, there’s a film where everything’s depicted in the frantic and frightening manner you would think a director would take if that situation happened in real life.

So this track is pretty much split into two sections. The calm before the storm, and the sudden explosion. Richard Wright’s synthesizer adds one note after the other to create this uneasy tension while we hear the groupie marvel at the size of Pink’s apartment and the amount of things he has. After she asks Pink if he’s feeling okay, FYI he isn’t, is when Roger Waters finally enters the frame to sing the first verse. Singing all calm-like alongside Wright’s synthesizer, he essentially describes Pink’s emptiness and overbearing depression with a short series of similes and heart-wrenching statements. Among them he warns the listener that he can feel “one of [his] turns coming on”. Not too soon after he says that, that turn arrives and the rest of the song is a hard-rock number with the guitars and drums entering the mix.

Just like many other songs on The Wall, Roger Waters makes it his mission to sound as unhinged as he possibly can, straining his voice to the peak of its limitations during this section of the track. Those are some high notes he’s reaching, but he pulls them off even though it’s like his voice could break there and then during the take. I personally have always got a kick of how he sings “Would you like something to eat?” There’s something a cartoon-ish about it. After a brief solo, the groupie runs out of the apartment, leaving Pink to scream into the night, which segues right into the next song on the album. If you want to listen to someone fall apart and lose it entirely, these are two songs which may pique your interest.

#951: They Might Be Giants – Nothing’s Gonna Change My Clothes

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Hey, this is no joke one of my favourite songs of all time right here. First time I heard ‘Nothing’s Gonna Change My Clothes’ was when I would have been going through They Might Be Giants’ debut album in early 2011 or something. The connection I had with the song from that initial point was instantaneous. The band’s debut album is my personal favourite of theirs, and I believe that this song encapsulates everything the album offers in its two minute runtime. A fun melody, great hooks, undeniable catchiness, little moments that leave you thinking “what the hell was that?” It’s all there. And it’s so darn repeatable, I could listen to it for an hour straight.

There’s an interpretation about this track that I’ve seen online that kinda shocked me a bit. Before I’ll reveal it, I’ll tell you my initial thought, which I was quite happy to go along before I did the further research. Making it quick, I thought it was about a person who was basically happy with their life even though there was all this chaos going on around them. Everyone’s going crazy, yet this narrator looks in the mirror and is happy to be alive – a dancing skeleton in a fleshy overcoat. Although everything actually as great as everyone’s making it out to be, living in an ‘ignorance is bliss’ type state, I guess. The narrator isn’t be the one to bring everyone down. Their just gonna go ahead and live their life. Nothing’s gonna change their world, or in this case, clothes. So when I recently read an idea that the track was actually from the point of view of a dead person in their coffin describing the gifts that have been left in the casket, it left me with some thinking to do.

Whatever the track may or may not be about, I never let it get in the way of how I feel when that swinging high-hat pattern starts. It’s a programmed high-hat, but that doesn’t stop the foot from tapping. Things from then on just come as a bonus. The song’s filled with these small licks and moments that occur for mere seconds, but when you hear them enough they’re very hard to forget. Like those drawn out ‘yooo’ backing vocals, or that ascending guitar riff that comes in before the choruses. Of course, I have to tip my metaphorical hat to John Linnell, who sings the tune with a cool combination of looseness while also staying in time and reaching notes with an incredible tightness. The heavy breakdowns of the chorus endings add another unexpected angle to things and then to add to that John Flanburgh’s “Ever? AAAHHH!” right at the song’s conclusion, makes for one of the most cathartic endings in TMBG’s catalogue. I’m gonna go ahead and link the track’s demo below ’cause it’s just as good, and Linnell sounds even looser than he does on the album.

#948: Sum 41 – Nothing on My Back

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Here’s another fill of early-2000s pop-punk for ya. ‘Nothing on My Back’ is the first real track on Sum 41’s 2001 debut, All Killer No Filler. The combination of this track and the jokey faux-heavy metal speech ‘Introduction to Destruction’ delivered by drummer Steve Jocz properly introduced listeners to the band’s world. That is of course if they had gone blindly into it and somehow not heard ‘Fat Lip’ being played everywhere before the album’s release date.

And it kicks off with a riff in 7/4 time. I’ve always thought that was an interesting move. I didn’t get to listening to the album in full until about 2010, when I thought about downloading other LPs that weren’t in my own personal collection of CDs. Standard pop-punk it might be, but that opening riff at least differentiated a bit from other bands I knew like Blink-182 or Green Day. Can’t think off the top of my head of any of their songs which mess around with timing a bit.
The riff ends, going into this tom-tom heavy breakdown, before transitioning into the first verse in which the song’s theme is sort of established: Feeling low and sad when there’s nothing to really be sad about. It becomes a lot clearer in the choruses. With nothing on the narrator’s back, there’s still something out there that brings them down. I’ve always appreciated how the second verse took on a completely different melody from the first. Usually you’d just repeat the first verse melody, very sure that’s how it goes most of the time. Just another small thing that’s got my attention over time.

I think the big highlight of the whole track is the instrumental breakdown that occurs after the second chorus is over. Steve Jocz pounds on the tom-toms accompanied by Cone McCaslin’s bass, the guitars join in, forcing out these strident chords and ringing harmonics alongside every heavy thrash of the cymbals. And it’s not until Deryck Whibley starts singing again that you realise that the song’s key has changed entirely and gone up a few notches. It changes right when the breakdown begins, but it’s so subtle that it doesn’t come off as those typical cheesy key changes. With Whibley now singing the chorus with a more intense delivery, the whole musical aspect brings a thrilling conclusion to what’s been a fantastic opening to the album so far. Just when you think the guitars will fade out, they fade in again and abruptly end to give way to following track ‘Never Wake Up’ – a hyper sub-minute song that I’ve written about before. Judging by the album’s first three songs, its title wasn’t something to laugh off.

#930: They Might Be Giants – No One Knows My Plan

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They Might Be Giants’ 1994 album John Henry was the first where Johns Linnell and Flansburgh were accompanied by a live band rather than the drum machines and synth-instruments that had been their go-to method up to that point. Upon the album’s arrival, fans were greeted with guitar-prominent instrumentals, an actual bass guitar and live drums, and brass. There’s a lot of horns on this album. Today’s track, ‘No One Knows My Plan’, is one of those tracks to feature them. Brass can sometimes be one of those instrumental groups where, if heard too much in one sitting, they can be a bit overbearing. But you’ve got to appreciate the instrumental melody of the trumpet that triumphantly opens this song. Once you do that, it’s plain sailing from there.

The track arrives at the album’s midpoint, acting as something of an opener to its second half. With its conga-esque rhythms and ascending/descending scale riffs, it helps pick up the momentum after the contemplative turn the preceding song takes. In ‘No One Knows…’, the narrator is planning an escape from a prison cell, and the track is practically the tale of the narrator’s thoughts, feelings and experiences they’ve had while trying to fulfil this act. They tried to escape before, but have since realised that they’ve had to change their tactics. They’re always scheming, but they’ll never tell anyone the full angle. All this described under a skipping drum pattern, a horn group that undergo the role that a rhythm guitar would usually cover, and with a reference to Plato’s Allegory of the Cave put in for good measure.

This one’s been a favourite of mine for the longest time. Not just from John Henry, but out of the whole TMBG catalogue. The melody’s so infectious. Once you’ve got that in your head, it’s hard to get rid of it. I’ll go ahead and admit that the album in particular isn’t one of my favourites by They, but it’s not without its highlights. ‘No One Knows…’ is for sure one of them. Back in the day, someone at the Cartoon Network offices must have liked the track too. It was used as the intro music to Cartoon Planet for a while.

#894: Jay Reatard – My Shadow

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I remember the news of Jay Reatard’s death appearing on the NME website in January 2010 and thinking, “That sucks,” and moving on to another thing. I was 14 at the time, cut me a bit of slack. What else do you do when someone that you don’t know dies? You know that he was important to many other people, so that’s always a downer. I just never listened to his music to feel very strongly about it. After that I still didn’t think to find out more about Reatard. Had too much school stuff going on. Years passed and it was suddenly late 2015, I was working at Songlines magazine, and his track ‘Oh It’s Such a Shame’ appeared in my Spotify Discover Weekly playlist. Then I realised I might have missed out on something.

Things led to another and there I was listening to Blood Visions. A thing to note about this album is that it is loud. ‘Death Is Forming’ will start playing on my phone when I’m listening on shuffle and it will make me jump from how loud that first crash cymbal is. Damn good song though. But we’re not hear to talk about that. It’s ‘My Shadow’ time. That track is the longest one on the album, only at three minutes and 18 seconds, but still has that furious, fast and powerful approach that’s consistent throughout.

One interpretation I read about this track is that it’s from the POV of a narrator afraid of their own shadow. Another stated that it was part of a whole story that runs through the album, detailing a murderer who has become obsessed with this girl who he’s determined to make his next victim. While those may or may not be true, I’m mainly focusing on those guitars and Reatard’s vocals too. He’s got that faux-British vocal thing going on that some American punk rock singers tend to use, and he’s kinda got this melodic wailing thing going throughout the verses that then change to some howling screams in the choruses. It’s good stuff.