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#1183: Wu-Tang Clan – Shame on a Nigga

A representative from one of the greatest hip-hop albums of all time. Shame – no pun intended – that this will probably be the only track from Enter the Wu Tang that I cover on here. But my appreciation for the LP goes a long way. 2013 was the 20th anniversary of the album’s release, and around the same time was when I first heard the thing in full. It’s a wonder how Wu-Tang is even a thing that continues to this day. You’d think a group of nine strong-minded individuals, all with their respective wants, styles, etc, would come to blows and wouldn’t remain stable for any length of time. But, bonded by family, the borough of Staten Island, an interest in martial arts films, and an obvious appreciation for hip-hop, the Wu gave us their debut and shot to legendary status almost immediately.

You might have already heard this song if you were intrigued by the post I made a couple of days ago. But if not, well, here it is. Before it was covered by System of a Down some years later under the name ‘Shame’, ‘Shame on a Nigga’ was released, appearing as the second song on Wu-Tang Clan’s 1993 debut album. Though if you were offended by the ‘rude’ language, a radio version of the track was also made entitled, ‘Shame on a Nuh’. Over a beat that features samples from Syl Johnson to Thelonius Monk, Ol’ Dirty Bastard, Method Man and Raekwon the Chef deliver respective verses in which they more or less tell the listener why people will fail if ever they step up to them, either in an aggressive way or when it comes to rap. When it comes to rap, they’ll lose because of their lack of skill. If things get violent, they’ll get shit. And that’s how it goes. As the song progresses, a new rapper’s brought into the frame just to add their own distinct voice to the mix. Makes the song that more engaging to listen to. And Ol’ Dirty closes the track off with the longest verse in which he again tells us why he isn’t the one to pick a duel with while referencing that old film The Warriors and telling us that he had gonorrhea sometime in the past. It’s a funny verse.

It’s a good, good song. Much different from how System of a Down provided it, for very obvious reasons. And even though that cover was the iteration of the track I heard before hearing the original, I’d say I’ve liked both on an equal level for a while at this point. You may ask why this song will be the only song from 36 Chambers that I’ll write about on here. I said that in the first paragraph. Well, ‘Clan in da Front’ was one I added when I think I’d already all the ‘C’ songs. And the obvious ones like ‘C.R.E.A.M.’ and ‘Method Man’ I got tired of due to my old iPhone seemingly playing those two nearly every day, even when I had all my songs on shuffle. I know those two are classics, but I could go a long while without hearing them again. But I’ll always have a lot of love for Wu-Tang. It’s for the children, as that old saying goes. The group’s music’s one thing. When you bring all the respective members’ solo material into it, it’s a different ballgame altogether. So, you know, if you never knew Wu-Tang before, the time to get to know them is now.

#1073: Supergrass – Pumping on Your Stereo

Back in the old days, I’d find myself flicking through the music video channels as per usual. Some of those times, I’d come across the ending of the video for Supergrass’s 1999 tune ‘Pumping on Your Stereo’. I can’t remember ever seeing its video from front to back in one sitting. It’d always be on its way to finishing, and I’d change the channel to find it at the point where the band hit that huge ending chord followed by the studio chatter that comes afterwards. Then YouTube came around and that was quickly rectified. Supergrass videos were something of a regular occurrence on the TV. And after seeing them for myself and coming to the conclusion that this band were actually really great, their albums were a usual request in any Christmas/birthday list whenever those times came around.

‘Pumping…’ is found on the band’s self-titled album. It’s a bit of a party, good times rollin’, sing-along get together of a song. The band repeatedly ask the listener if we can hear them pumping on our stereos. They also don’t hide the fact that they’re clearly singing ‘humping on your stereo’ throughout the entire thing. Even in the music video, the word ‘humping’ is visibly mimed by the band members. Not that I’m complaining though. I don’t mean to be if it sounds like I am. The whole thing reminds me of how the Beatles got away with singing ‘tit’ in ‘Girl’. Someone probably questioned the band whether the band were singing ‘humping’, to which they said no and said they were singing ‘pumping’ instead. At least that’s the story I’ve come to in my head.

Really though, the song’s not really about anything of any great importance. There’s a bit of an allusion about feeling lost while touring and being on the road in the second verse. But everything sounds so groovy and cheery that it very much slips by. I don’t think it’s any secret that the lyrics are something of an afterthought in a lot of Supergrass songs. But what matters is that they all sound good in the context, and the main chorus does its job of getting stuck in your head in the melodic mantra-like way it’s delivered. The track I think is also the first in Supergrass’s discography in which they really wore their glam-rock, Bowie/Bolan, T-Rex influences on their sleeves. They would dive even deeper into them on the album that followed Supergrass. But the seeds were sewn right here.

#1060: Blur – Pressure on Julian

I feel it’s fair to say that if ever anyone was to think of Blur’s Modern Life Is Rubbish album, its fourth track ‘Pressure on Julian’ wouldn’t be the first that would come to mind. That specific album comes at a weird space in Blur’s career. With it, they began to embark on the whole British music for British people aesthetic which would be their inspiration for their following two albums. But they also weren’t the massively popular band that they would become once that first following album arrived. Out of that ‘Life’ trilogy, as it’s become to be known as, Modern Life… has been my preferred record for the longest time, and while songs like ‘For Tomorrow’ or ‘Chemical World’ may be firm favourites among Blur fans, it’s the deeper cuts from there that have been right up my alley for up to 10 years now.

Actually, it was probably a re-listen to the album in about 2015 where a lot more of the songs clicked and I recognised the record’s strength as a whole. The one note that people may know about ‘Pressure on Julian’ is that the Julian in the title is a reference to Julian Cope, lead singer/songwriter for The Teardrop Explodes, who was also former bandmates with Blur’s manager at the time, Dave Balfe. The reference was only included because any lyrical/music reference (usually done intentionally by Damon Albarn) would drive Balfe insane. However, the song really has nothing to do with Cope, and if you were to have a read through of the song’s lyrics I couldn’t blame you if you were left clueless as to what Albarn was singing about here. I’m not even too sure myself. The ‘magical transit children’ phrase in the first verse was taken from some graffiti spotted during a photo shoot. But all in all, there’s not much coherency within those verses overall. Maybe the whole thing really was just a ploy to annoy their manager. With the “We planned it all this way” repetition in the choruses, it’s only come to me now that that is most likely what they were trying to achieve.

The song is led by this rolling drum pattern that I can only describe as sounding like a train pulling out of a station, joined by Alex James’s jumping bassline and Graham Coxon’s swirling guitar work. Albarn comes in on the vocal, harmonising with himself when the verses build in intensity with what sounds like the addition of more guitars in the mix, before falling into the short choruses that reach a climax with the elongated utterance of the song’s title. There’s also the notable instrumental middle part where the track’s tempo speeds up slightly bit by bit, increasing in tension before exploding into a finish with a climactic guitar chord and falling back into the train-type rhythm established at the song’s start. If only I were into my music theory or composition, maybe I could write this in a way that would make this much more informative to read. Hopefully, you’d be able to tell what I’m on about through listening to the song. And if not, you could at least watch Graham Coxon talking about the track himself. He did play on the track himself, when it comes down to it.

#1035: Good Shoes – The Photos on My Wall

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.

#1017: Test Icicles – Party on Dudes (Get Hype)

How ironic that a track about getting ready for a party and building up excitement for it would be the final track on the one and only album that Test Icicles would release during the short, short time of the band’s existence. I was 10 years old when the video for ‘Circle. Square. Triangle’ was in rotation on the regular on MTV2. I was the same age when the band announced they were splitting up just under a year later. At the time, I was very much into them, so my reaction to that announcement was one of a large indifference.. But it was when I was 15 that I revisited For Screening Purposes Only for reasons that I’ve forgotten at this time, and found out how much fun the album was. Released in that dance-punk era of the ’00s, it very much handles ‘dance’ and ‘punk’ in its brash and noisy way.

I feel ‘Party on…’ is very much an account of lead vocalist Sam Mehran, witnessing the kids of 2005 feeling alive, being out in the town and knowing the places to go to have a good time. Under the pressure of being one of three vocalists and songwriters in a band, he can forget that feeling of unadulterated joy and freedom. He reminds himself that he’s just “gotta catch it”, with a nice reference to the track of the same name on the album. When he does, and the band perform, throwing out the energy to the crowd, everything comes together. He witnesses the fans waiting in anticipation to get into the venues they’re playing, people try and push in to the queues, and it seems like as soon as things get underway and the band do their thing, it’s time for everyone to leave and the band to move on to the next place. But no matter where they go, what matters is that a party’s gonna go down and things are gonna get wild.

And that was the final statement made on the band’s sole album. Well, that is if you don’t count the hidden track that followed after a few minutes of silence. That one’s a bit of a mess. From what I recall, the three members of the band really weren’t interested in the music they were doing, and weren’t expecting to create as much of a buzz as they did. They weren’t their separate ways and pursued their own individual careers. Rory Atwell became a producer, made remixes for a ton of bands and played in a few other bands of his own. Devonté Hynes became Lightspeed Champion before then evolving into Blood Orange. Mehran also forged out his own solo career under various aliases and was in the midst of making another project when he sadly passed away in July 2018 by suicide at the age of 31.