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#738: The Dismemberment Plan – A Life of Possibilities

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Think it was 2013 when I tried to listen to The Dismemberment Plan for the first time. I was on my Pitchfork tip during that time, trying to hear ‘new’ albums particularly in the indie scene. And Emergency & I, the band’s album released in 1999 is considered to be something of a classic in that genre. I went onto YouTube, searched for this track, listened to the first few seconds and really wasn’t into it. Why was this man singing like that? And what was with the squirty keyboard bass? Get that outta here. That was more or less my line of thinking from what I can recall. This was a major error.

Fast forward a few months later. I was in my first year of university and decided to really sit down and give the full album a listen. ‘A Life of Possibilities’, if you don’t know, starts Emergency off so there were the strange vocals and the keyboard bass again. But this time those two things sounded great together, and were backed with an undeniable groove too. This is what happens when you give a song more than a mere few seconds of your time. Then the dueling guitar hook came in and I was instantly hooked. If there is one thing about Emergency & I that I appreciated straight from the bat, it’s that almost every track has a great chorus. There’s no proper chorus in ‘Possibilities’ but those harmonizing guitars act as one, coming in between each verse in which singer and lyricist Travis Morrison goes on about – I think – someone who isolates themselves from society but finds that at some point they’ll have to get out there to truly live their life.

So yeah, do check out Emergency & I if you have the time. Don’t be like me when I was seventeen and disregard it because you don’t like a few sounds on it. The record is suitable for those going through their quarter life crisis, or just those who have hard times growing up in their 20s. That’s a large demographic.

#710: Meat Puppets – Lake of Fire

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Anyone who reads this blog and is very much into the same music will see this and think, “Hey, that’s that song Nirvana covered in the Unplugged concert for MTV”. Then, if you haven’t heard the original, you’ll click on the video above and think “Wow, Kurt did this song way better, this man can’t sing at all!”

Personally, I’m not a big fan of Kurt’s voice in that session and prefer the original by a mile. Curt Kirkwood doesn’t really “sing” the original. It’s more of a strained yelling, (almost) in tune, with a scream that occurs for a split second in the midst of it all. I can’t say that cliché where the singing doesn’t matter because it’s the passion with which it’s sung because Kirkwood sounds either very high or drunk behind the microphone. But I really like it still, I’ve got to say.

Despite it’s almost lo-fi style and the really loose way the music is delivered, there’s still an almighty sense of swing and menace to the track. The bass is thick and melodic, right in the centre, and the lead guitar in the right sounds ferocious with its triplet licks and emphatic downstrokes. It’s clear how Cobain took influence from their music in the first place. There’s also this strange clicking noise that you can hear throughout the track… Don’t know what it is, but it only adds to the dark and quite strange atmosphere.

I’ll leave Nirvana’s cover below – but it’s all about the Meat Puppets for me.

#701: They Might Be Giants – Kiss Me, Son of God

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When listening to They Might Be Giants’ second album Lincoln you wouldn’t think that, after starting with ‘Ana Ng’, the record would then go on to close with ‘Kiss Me, Son of God’. Musically uplifting, it’s led by a soundscape of rising violins, saxophones and a cello that provide the backdrop to Linnell’s lyrics which detail a dictator who has lost the respect of his closest friends and associates.

In typical TMBG fashion the song juxtaposes happy music and darker lyrical subject matter to create this undertone of tension and uneasiness. The listener however isn’t able to tell unless they really search out those lyrics just because of how upbeat and strident the melodies are. I’m thinking that, as the track is from the point of view of this awful, awful person, the music is meant to reflect the fact that the narrator truly doesn;t care about the hurt he’s causing these people and is in fact very happy about his situation.

Very descriptive in its language and vivid in its imagery, the lyrical highlight arguably occurs in the bridge:

I look like Jesus, so they say
But Mr. Jesus is very far away
Now you’re the only one here who can tell me if it’s true
That you love me and I love me

You see, ’cause as a listener you’re expecting Linnell to sing ‘I love you‘ in that final line but he turns it around and sings ‘me’ instead. You have to hear it to appreciate it.

Linnell and Flansburgh had originally recorded the track during the sessions for the group’s first album. It was released a B-Side on the ‘(She Was a) Hotel Detective’ single, and is very different from how it appears on Lincoln. With no backing music by The Ordinaires, it’s just the two Johns singing in harmony with an accordion at hand. Here is that version:

#700: Kings of Leon – King of the Rodeo

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This is another one of those songs where I was actually alive and could remember its video showing on the TV as opposed to finding it years later. One thing I remember about this track is that I, somehow, always managed to change the channel to MTV2 when the video for this song was almost finishing. I don’t think I ever saw the beginning until YouTube came along. Or maybe it was on the band’s official website when bands used to have their music videos on their in a .wmv format back in the day.

‘King of the Rodeo’ is on Kings of Leon’s second album Aha Shake Heartbreak, released in 2004. It was the album’s third single. I still don’t really know what Caleb Followill is saying throughout this thing. It’s never come to mind that I should find the lyrics and truly understand what he’s singing. I’ve always appreciated the sound of his voice here. The coarse tone, the breaks when he’s reaching for the high notes. It’s a characteristic that made the Kings of Leon those days very exciting to listen to. Yes, I’m one of those people. I think the real main highlight in the track is the guitar work of Matthew Followill. While Caleb pretty much plays two chords for the whole song, Nathan keeps the momentum going with the crunchy riffs and string bends. It’s in the left speaker if you’re using your headphones. Or the right, if you’re watching the video.

Now, I have read the lyrics. Apparently, there are a few references to the film Withnail and I in the track. I wasn’t expecting that. Other than that, there’s not much meaning to the lyrical content. I’ll take it that about they’re about some relationship between a guy and a girl in the South.

#699: The Tallest Man on Earth – King of Spain

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The Wild Hunt by The Tallest Man on Earth turns 10 in just over a week’s time. I got into the album around 2012/13, when I was on a folk tip and trying to find more acoustic-based albums to hear after listening to Pink Moon too many times. The Wild Hunt is much more optimistic in tone, with the songs within mainly threaded by themes of moving on, moving forward and having dreams for the future.

‘King of Spain’ is the sixth track on the album, was the second single from it too, and sees Kristian Mattson – the “Tallest Man” – dreams of becoming the song’s title after unexpectedly starting a new relationship with someone. In his eyes, he could be almost anything now that he’s got that someone who he thought was way out of his reach. And it’s just him and his guitar that do all the magic on here.

Now it’s not out of line to say that here, Matsson wears the Bob Dylan influence on his sleeve from the folk-centric music to the raspiness of his voice. This is something he has gracefully admitted himself. ‘King of Spain’ makes reference to the Dylan song ‘Boots of Spanish Leather’ too. But even so that shouldn’t get in the way of one’s enjoyment of this song. Or the album for that matter. It’s a tour de force delivered by a man and his guitar about daydreams of high hopes and wonderment. You can’t ask for more than that.