Tag Archives: so

#1234: Blur – So You

In 2012, Blur released a massive boxset to celebrate their 21st anniversary as a band. In it, you would get (almost) all of their albums remastered. With each album came a bonus disc compiling B-sides and other additional material from the respective eras. ‘So You’ can be found on the “Special Edition” of 13, explaining why you see that album’s cover in the video up top. Originally it was released as a B-side to ‘No Distance Left to Run’ when that song was released as the album’s final single in November 1999. But I didn’t know of its existence until summer 2013 when I went through Blur’s discography on a whim. Heard it then, it’s been on the iPhone ever since.

What we’ve got going on here is a Blur track with a groove. Alternating between C minor and B major chords for the majority of the song, Graham Coxon lays an ascending/descending riff over the top, Dave Rowntree puts down a drum take that feels a little late on the beat with fills that sound like boxes falling down the stairs. All very tastefully done. The lyrics on show go into a category that Damon Albarn started to explore in this particular era of Blur. And that was to come up with lyrics that they don’t seem to mean anything and are more or less words made to match the feel of the music rather than tell a story or detail any personal feelings. A bit of a predecessor to what was to come with Gorillaz, I guess you could say. There are two verses of these “abstract” lyrics, followed by a melodica solo that echoes as each note plays, and the hypnotizing groove continues on until the energy fizzles out and we’re left with studio chatter to close the track out.

If you ever wanted to see Blur working on a song in the studio, you’re in luck. The making of ‘So You’ was captured in an edition of British arts TV series The South Bank Show in which the band were the main focus. The whole episode is worth watching if you’re a fan. But luckily someone on YouTube clipped out the parts showing the band rehearsing and recording ‘So You’, so I’ll just go ahead and embed that at the bottom there. So interesting to see the song’s transformation. What starts off as a discussion of chord progressions and initial showing of ideas swiftly goes on to be this fully formed thing where all the band members are locked in together. It probably happened over a longer period than the six minutes the video lasts for. But it’s still cool to witness.

#1233: The Who – So Sad About Us

Another track from The Who’s A Quick One. ‘So Sad About Us’ is a number that I don’t think I paid much attention to when I first heard that album way back in the early 2010s. Other cuts like ‘Boris the Spider’ and ‘See My Way’ were much more to my liking. The latter’s considered to be one of the weaker songs on there, but I’ve always dug it. But at that time, ‘So Sad About Us’ had its own Wikipedia page, so I gathered it must be quite important in some way. According to it, the song’s one of the Who’s most covered songs, with people like The Breeders and The Jam having their own takes on it. It wasn’t until I saw a live performance of the track the Who did (below) maybe only a few years ago that I thought I should maybe give the album version another listen.

Before The Who started getting into making albums with concepts in mind, the music becoming sort of artsy and extravagant as a result, their first two records showcased Pete Townshend’s abilities to write “simple” catchy 3-minute power pop wonders. You think of ‘My Generation’, ‘Substitute’, ‘The Kids Are Alright’. Things of that nature. ‘So Sad…’ falls into that category. It’s a strong performance by the four respective band members, and is more of their straighter numbers by Who standards. The rhythm section is usually the highlight in many a Who song, but I’d say ‘So Sad…’ relies more on the clanging guitar chords and the vocals/harmonies carried out by Roger Daltrey and John Entwistle.

It’s a break-up song, a topic that you rarely ever find in The Who’s catalogue, from the point of view of a narrator who’s upset by the whole situation. No malice is felt toward the other person. There’s no sense of bitterness. Just an honest account of acceptance that time has run out and the relationship is over. The track is two verses, a bridge and a repeat of the first verse surrounded by a memorable refrain of la-la-la’s, but to spice things up a little there’s a key change that occurs nearing the end. Just a general fan of how the song’s executed, to be honest, there’s not much else I can say. Although it’s one of their most covered tracks, I still feel like it’s underappreciated in the grand scheme of things. I’m sure there are a lot of people who don’t know about the song’s existence. But it does, and it’s great.

#1232: The BPA ft. Olly Hite – So It Goes

It’s been a while since Norman Cook, mostly known to you and me as Fatboy Slim, released an album. The producer’s fourth LP Palookaville was released back in 2004, and that’s still his most recent one to this day. Under the Fatboy Slim name that is. What I don’t think a lot of people know is that in 2008, he and good friend Simon Thorton got together, recruited a number of artists and musicians and made an album with ’em entitled I Think We’re Gonna Need a Bigger Boat, under the moniker of ‘The Brighton Port Authority’. The BPA for short. But to make the whole affair a little more interesting, the story was invented that the album was actually a compilation of recordings made in the ’70s that had been long-lost until they were found in a box next to a warehouse that was in development. Quite funny when you realise most of the guests on there probably weren’t born until a decade after.

…Bigger Boat is bookended by two covers. As it begins with Iggy Pop singing The Monochrome Set’s ‘He’s Frank’, it goes on to end with ‘So It Goes’, a take on the Nick Lowe original, sung by Olly Hite. While that Lowe original contains more of a rollicking, swinging ’70s power pop feel, the ‘So It Goes’ by the BPA and Olly Hite goes for the warm and intimate approach, similar to that you’d find in an NPR Tiny Desk concert or something. Hite sings alongside a tastefully played Rhodes piano that mirrors the chord progression of Lowe’s guitar in the original. The idea that it’s being performed live is reinforced by the cheering, handclaps and adlibbing by various people in the background, who then go on to applaud Hite as he sings the final words and steps away from the microphone. Other Norman Cook/Simon Thornton production tricks occur throughout, but not so much that they get in the way of the bittersweet end-of-the-night, time-to-go-home mood the track gives out.

According to Lowe, the song isn’t about anything much and is just a bunch of interesting words strung together, though was influenced by Thin Lizzy’s ‘The Boys Are Back in Town’. Though if you want to try and get something out of it, the three verses respectively describe scenes at a music show, a political meeting in the Twin Towers, and I think the embrace between a couple of some kind. With the chorus stating “And so it goes, but where it’s going no one knows”, maybe the whole track’s a comment on how these things happen in life, life goes on until you die, and what happens after death is anyone’s guess. Whereas the original fades out on the lyric, here Hite turns the words from “no one knows” to “I don’t know”, switching the perspective around to leave the album on a sweet, personal note. It looks more and more unlikely that Norman Cook will make another album again. But if this were to “his” last song… for the time being, I wouldn’t be too mad at it.

#1231: Nine Black Alps – So in Love

Although I wished it wasn’t the case, I remember being slightly disappointed by Nine Black Alps’ Love/Hate album. Their debut Everything Is was and is so great. The power and energy from the songs on there was off the scale. The 12-year-old me in late 2007 was expecting the same when the band’s sophomore album came around. That wasn’t to be the case though. There was less power and more of a focus on the musicality and the melodies with a rougher recording style too. The songs didn’t leave much of an effect on me, except ‘Forget My Name’ which I’ve written about before. I ripped it to my iTunes library, though. Could always have another listen one day.

And years later I did. I can’t remember what year exactly. I’m sure it would have been after the band released their third album. Maybe even their fourth. But it was on that re-listen that ‘So in Love’, the ninth song on Love/Hate suddenly sprang out to me. That particular track is the shortest one on the album, a sharp shock lasting for just over two minutes. It’s led by an ugly-sounding riff that’s more Nirvana than anything they did on the first album, as Sam Forrest alternates between softly singing and harshly yelling about the chokehold being in love can have on a person. Or at least that’s what I get from listening and looking at the lyrics.

‘Burn Faster’ was the first single to be released in the lead-up to Love/Hate. If you listen to that song, you can probably tell why. But I like to imagine a world where ‘So in love’ was that first piece of new music Nine Black Alps provided after those couple years of waiting. It’s really nothing like anything on Love/Hate and is a bit of a ‘What the fuck’ moment as a result, but it still has those melodic hooks than can win you over. The “Try to get out, try to get out” choruses sound so ’90s and are fun to sing along too, there’s a use of two-part harmonies during the verses that they never did on their first album. The whole track gives a huge rush that is sorely missing throughout the whole record. A lot of the B-sides from this era of the band probably could have been on here instead. There’s one in particular that will come around on here soon.

#1230: Bloc Party – So Here We Are

I was around when Bloc Party’s Silent Alarm was the brand-new debut album released by the band….. 20 years ago. It creeps up on you, doesn’t it. It wasn’t like I was following the group’s every move, ’cause I was nine at the time and was probably thinking about cartoons and football more than anything else. But I knew of the band as I’d seen the video for ‘Helicopter’ on MTV2, months before the album was out. But as 2005 went on, it was difficult to go onto MTV again, or any other alternative music television channel for that matter, and not see Bloc Party in some sort of capacity.

Every site and streaming platform will tell you that the album was released on the 2nd February 2005, but at least in the UK it came out on Valentine’s Day. ‘So Here We Are’, released alongside ‘Positive Tension’ as a double A-side single, was the first track to be unveiled in the proper run up to Silent Alarm, two weeks before. And it’s a song that I completely missed initially. I remember seeing ‘Banquet’ and ‘The Pioneers’ on a much more frequent basis at that time. I’ve a feeling ‘Two More Years’ was even out as a single before I knew about ‘So Here We Are”s existence. But its video came on TV one day, I was thinking if it was a new song. It definitely wasn’t. But I ended up liking it all the same.

Even if this song were to be an instrumental piece, its effect would be just as strong. The twinkling arpeggiated guitar intro, which extends into the verses and beyond, between Kele Okereke and Russell Lissack is enough to put anyone into a kind of meditative trance. But what I’ve always found to be the highlight of it, along with many other Silent Alarm numbers, is drummer Matt Tong’s performance. Among the serene guitars comes this bustling source of rhythm that adds a huge rush of energy to the track. The drums sound like a loop of a sample or something, they’re done that well. The song has no chorus – made up more of one long verse and the coda – all of which concern how people feel after taking ectasy. And it’s during the coda that Okereke sings about having that MDMA-induced epiphany over a glorious solo. It’s beautiful stuff.