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#1348: The Velvet Underground – That’s the Story of My Life

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‘That’s the Story of My Life’ is a tune from The Velvet Underground’s self-titled album from 1969, one I heard when I came across that particular record… I think some time in 2013. I was going through a best ever albums list on a site called besteveralbums.com. That’s a place I’ve shouted-out many a time on here, it’s never done me wrong. The Velvet Underground was placed relatively high on that list, and through listening 18- or 19-year-old me was exposed to tracks like ‘Pale Blue Eyes’, ‘Beginning to See the Light’, ‘Jesus’… There’s a lot of good stuff on there. ‘That’s the Story…’ is the album’s shortest song. Some may even argue it a little inconsequential, more a palate cleanser for the huge experimental track that follows. I’m sure I probably felt the same way, initially. But at this point it’s more or less one of my favourites on the LP. Once you’ve got the lyrics down, it’s hard to get the whole track out of your head.

And it’s very easy to memorise those words because there’s only one verse, one that’s repeated a couple more times before the song finishes with a flourish. “That’s the story of my life / That’s the difference between wrong and right / But Billy said that both those words are dead / That’s the story of my life”. Very concise, very simple, great little melody alongside a swinging acoustic feel. It does the job as a song. What it all means is something that’s passed me by. Even with the limited number of words used, I’ve always kind of felt there was a lot being said. But what it is, I couldn’t tell. Thankfully, this YouTuber did a video essay all about the album – I’m linking to where they talk about ‘Story’, but the whole thing’s worth a viewing – covering the track in some depth. In a way, they highlight ‘That’s the Story…’ as being one of the most important songs on the LP as it sums up the paradox at the core of it. The difference between wrong and right, good love and bad love. I’m just typing out what they say. It would be much better if you saw it for yourself.

So yeah, that’s the story of my story with this song. Why aren’t there more songs from The Velvet Underground on this blog, you might ask. I made the decision to stop adding songs to my phone in about 2021, and it seems between 2013 and then ‘Jesus’ and this one were the only two on the album that I really, really enjoyed. I’ve got a few more from there on my Liked Songs playlist on Spotify, a streaming service that I know very few people like anymore for very understandable reasons. I’ve come to appreciate the album a lot in the past few years. Not ’cause of the whole context of the band doing a whole 180 in sound after founding member John Cale left and seemingly took the abrasive, freakier side of the music with him. I think I’ve just matured enough as a person that I can listen to each song on there and realise how good each one is. Plus, it must have influenced so many people. Anyone else hear Julian Casablancas or Stephen Malkmus throughout it all? Sounds like they got their whole style from this one project. I’m glad it exists.

#1338: The Used – The Taste of Ink

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I had a whole paragraph set out for this post where I was going on about the mix in this song’s music video being different from how it actually sounds on the album. Had a feeling Bert McCracken’s vocal was way more upfront. It may just be down to how the audio on YouTube videos is compressed automatically upon upload. So I guess it does sound different in a way, but not incredibly. But anyway, it was through the video for The Used’s ‘The Taste of Ink’ that I got to know the tune. It was just one day I was on the computer, MTV2 was on in the background, and there was ‘The Taste of Ink’ on the TV. I wasn’t really paying attention to it, but that “Here I am / It’s in my hands” chorus kicked in. It pricked the ear, I turned around and began to pay attention to the song. I write this and it sounds like it was this sort of cliché movie moment. Im pretty sure that’s how it all went down, though. And I think by that point I was into In Love and Death, so it was cool to hear another song by the band from another period of their time together.

‘The Taste of Ink’ is the second song on the band’s self-titled debut album from 2002 and was selected to be the band’s very first single. Quite suitably too ’cause of the song’s whole statement. McCracken sings about being stuck in a deadbeat town where there’s nothing to do and where chewing the tip of a pen is a choice of activity that helps pass the time. Hence the song’s title. But he’s had enough of it all, he’s ready to get out of there and just live life, do whatever he wants to do and have a good time while doing so. It’s a strong message. If you want to get things done, it’s all up to you. And I think it acts as a little love letter to fans too, as kind of a “If you’re with us for the ride, we’re gonna give you all we have” thing. Could also be a reach out to a person he was seeing, but I’m throwing something out with that suggestion. Musically, I’ve always dig the stop-start pattern in the instruments. The guitars and drums all play each downbeat and then all-out for the choruses. Cool dynamics going on. And it’s quite funny how they start to mess around with the chord progression just as the song begins to fade out. There’s probably a radio edit that edits that part out, but it’s all essential, I think.

So I really like ‘The Taste of Ink’. Not so much that I’ve gone on to check out the whole album it’s on, though. Am I missing something from not listening to The Used? Answers on a postcard, please. I don’t think it could get much better than In Love and Death. Even then, there are tunes on there I enjoyed a whole lot more in my adolescence than I do now. Another song from that album will be featured on here one of these days. But it would be interesting to hear how the band started out. By the time I heard ‘…Ink’ for the first time, I want to say Artwork was the band’s most recent album. Maybe Vulnerable. But by then, the type of music the band were making was on a completely different path from what I would have been listening to. Their original guitarist who had a huge hand in writing the songs was kicked out. It’s a whole story. What am I trying to say here? Maybe I’ll listen to The Used, maybe I won’t. It’s not something to dwell on.

#1298: U2 – Stuck in a Moment You Can’t Get Out Of

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1,298 songs in, and we reach the first U2 song. It’ll be the only one, though, sorry. There are people out there who despise the band, mostly because they don’t like Bono. Me? I don’t have anything massive against them. I’m neither here nor there. I can’t say I’m the biggest fan. But they do have some fine, fine songs. When I really started getting into alternative/rock music in about 2004, it was during a time when the video for ‘Vertigo’ was playing almost every day on MTV2. The How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb era. And nine-year-old me thought it was a cool song. So I can sort of thank U2 for getting me into the genre a little more. But today’s song isn’t from that era of the band. It’s from the one that preceded it a good four years earlier. In 2000, U2 returned from an experimental phase during the ’90s with a back-to-basics rock album in All That You Can’t Leave Behind, and ‘Stuck in a Moment You Can’t Get Out Of’ – the second song on there – was released as its second single in 2001.

And this is one of those occasions where I have a clear, clear memory of seeing its music video on TV during that time, even though I would have only been five years old. It was playing on The Box, which was kinda the mainstream UK pop music video channel of the time, and there was Bono on the TV screen rolling around on the floor over and over again. And because I was a child and still had years until my voice dropped, whenever I tried to sing, “Stuck in a moment and you can’t get out of it,” that “can’t get out of it” part was too low for my register. I didn’t have the diaphragm for it yet. For the longest time, in the back of my mind, I thought that if I was able to sing that phrase, it must have meant that the process of puberty had finally happened. I can gladly say at the age of 30, I can sing along to the track just fine. It wasn’t until a few years back that I revisited the song, gave it a few more listens with that core memory flashing in the brain and realized that I liked it a bunch.

Think it’s common knowledge that the track was written as a tribute to Michael Hutchence, a good friend of Bono’s, who was famously known for being the original lead singer for the rock band INXS. Hutchence passed away in 1997 through suicide, the action of which is kind of alluded to by Bono in the song’s bridge (“I was unconscious, half asleep” / “I wasn’t jumping, for me it was a fall” / “It’s a long way down to nothing at all”). Bono, saddened by what happened, wrote ‘Stuck in a Moment…’ as a things-he-wished-he-could-have-said song. He expresses his admiration for Hutchence and is still effected by him even with absence, but wishes he could have told him that whatever tough times he was going through, they would eventually pass and there was no need to feel so down. Guitarist The Edge also gets a moment on the lead vocal near the song’s end with the falsetto on the “And if the night runs over…” section. Though funnily, it gets pushed back into the mix to make way for Bono’s adlibbing. I like this one a lot. A track that reminds you to reach out to your friends in times of trouble. Or just on a frequent basis. ‘Cause you never know what could be happening.

#1279: Pavement – Starlings of the Slipstream

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‘Starlings of the Slipstream’ is the penultimate track on Pavement’s Brighten the Corners album, released back in 1997. I can’t recall if I’ve ever said on here, but usually I switch between Crooked Rain… and Terror Twilight as my go-to listen-through Pavement albums. But over the years, Brighten the Corners has been slowly creeping up and calmly nudging it’s way into pole position too. My view, you can’t go wrong with any Pavement album. I’ve enjoyed a good chunk of Brighten… for the longest time. But as I’ve revisited over the years, with the big 3-0 approaching and being 30 now, the record’s become a great comfort. Being the ‘turning 30’ album it is, I can sort of relate with Stephen Malkmus who was going through the same stage of life at the time of making the album, even with surrealism and lyrical wordplay he tends to incorporate in his songs.

‘Starlings…’ was originally known as ‘The Werewolf Song’, assumedly because of the “ah-woooo” refrains during the chorus, and was introduced as so when the band played the Tibetan Freedom Concert in 1996. They did this performance on either 15th or 16th June, and a month later, they were in a studio in North Carolina recording the music that would end of being Brighten the Corners. Somewhere in between, Stephen Malkmus found the time to get some lyrics down to set amidst the music. Or maybe even during the recording sessions he did, the band usually got the performances to tape first and he would lay down his vocals afterwards. And with the final lyrics, you get a set of words that aren’t very easy to break down and get to the nitty-gritty about. They’re vague in typical Malkmus fashion. But just the song title of ‘Starlings of the Slipstream’ is enough to bring an image my head, much like a lot of other lyrics you’ll find in the track. So maybe it’s more about the imagery in this song, rather than the meaning.

So it would be the logical move to go through this song line-by-line to try and express what imagery’s conjured up by each respective lyric. But I feel that would kind of be a waste of my time, and you probably wouldn’t want to read that either. Rather, I’ll just list the few things that stick out to me when I think about the song. Overall, the chord changes and the stopping/starting motion the music holds in the verses. Each smack of the crash cymbal with the guitar strum feels very releasing. And then those stop-starts transition into the werewolf choruses where Malkmus recites the song’s title. Those moments are quite entrancing in their own ways too. The way Malkmus intensifies his vocal on the “I put a spy-cam in a sorority” line. Didn’t need to do it, comes from out of nowhere, but always grateful that he chose to sing it that way. And I like how the track just falls into this noisy outro with two guitars wailing between notes before everything fizzles out to an end. Somewhere I read a comment that referred to ‘Starlings…’ as the song that sounds like the final track but isn’t. And while I got a laugh and did think that the comment was sort of right, it does the best job as the second-last one. Gives us that last bit of levity before ‘Fin’ really ends the album on a poignant note.

#1268: They Might Be Giants – Stalk of Wheat

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They Might Be Giants’ 1990 album Flood includes a track that is more or less the band’s theme song in the form of ‘They Might Be Giants’. The number contains the lyric, “They might be rain, they might be heat, they might be frying up a stalk of wheat.” Then fourteen years later, a song under the name of that little phrase at the end there appeared as the penultimate offering on The Spine. Whether John Linnell was thinking of the specific lyric or just wrote this song coincidentally has never been confirmed. It’s not a big deal to think about, really. What matters is, I like ‘Stalk of Wheat’ quite a bit. On an album where the songs are very much on the usual rock band setup, ‘Stalk of Wheat’ arrives out of left field as this swinging showtime number with horns and this thing called a Flex-a-Tone.

The image that usually comes to my mind when listening to ‘Stalk…’ is a man performing it onstage in a theatre of some kind, suit and top hat on, pulling out the jazz hands for extra effect in places. An entertaining situation, I’d say. But when you look into ‘Stalk of Wheat’ a little further, you’ll see that the narrator conveyed isn’t having such a great time. Nothing is working out for this person. Journeys feel too far of a travel, they have no one to turn to who can lend a helping hand. Once they were a young buck who had big plans, but now only have those dark thoughts that linger. And with no money and no job that would help raise funds of any kind, they’re at a point in life where they have no idea in hell that would make things better.

All that being said, the song’s so damn catchy, you’ll find yourself singing along to a person’s downfall in record timing. Filled to the brim with these easy rhymes, wordplay, alliteration and earwormy melodies, and set to the upbeat, happy-go-lucky tempo, it’s the sort of track that wouldn’t sound out of place in a musical. You’ve got the backing vocals chiming in with parts of a lyric before Linnell finishes them off, very much like how a backing character will randomly put their two cents in during a song. And speaking of the lyrics, they range from sincerity to the absurd. A ‘moose denied’ or a ‘bunny that’s broke’ aren’t phrases you’ll find in everyday usage. But in the context of this song, they sound just swell. Just another reason why The Spine shouldn’t be looked down on when looking into the band’s catalogue. And there’s a video of the two Johns performing it live on a TV show back in the day. Ain’t that nice?