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#1403: Nick Drake – Tow the Line

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In early 2017, I was on the Christmas break, in between the first and second semesters of my final year in university. I was preparing information for what would become my dissertation. I was doing some reading required for coursework of some kind. But it was also in that cold wintertime that I found out about Nick Drake’s ‘Tow the Line’. Drake’s three-studio-album discography had been firmly set in my iTunes library for years up to that point. Pink Moon, one of my favourite albums of all time, any longtime reader on here knows how I feel about it. I can’t remember what directed me to ‘Tow the Line’. I can only think that after knowing Drake’s three albums for so long, I was on the lookout for more material of his, preferably in the same vein as the work on Pink Moon. This led me in the direction of songs like ‘Black Eyed Dog’ and ‘Hanging on a Star’. But it’s ‘Tow the Line’ I’m here to talk about. So here goes.

‘Tow the Line’ is the last song on the Made to Love Magic compilation, a collection of Nick Drake outtakes, remixes and remasters, released in 2004. Before that year, ‘Tow the Line’ had never been heard by anyone. It was only found during the making of the compilation after producer John Wood had left the tape containing Drake’s other “final” recordings running and, to his surprise, the song started playing after a few moments of silence. ‘Tow the Line’ is reportedly the very final thing Nick Drake ever put to tape, recording it in July 1974, just four months before his untimely death. I don’t know if there’s a sense of finality in the song’s message, but the sound of him putting the guitar down in the very last second does feel like a kind of auditory full stop. I wanted my Pink Moon-ish fill of more Nick Drake material, and I got it with ‘Tow the Line’. It’s been a good near-decade knowing this song exists.

Out of the last five songs Nick Drake did, it’s ‘Black Eyed Dog’ and ‘Tow the Line’ that are the frontrunners for me. I like ‘Rider on the Wheel’ too, but its original (and better) mix seems to not be widely available. While ‘Black Eyed Dog’ is this real bleak, stark, looking-death-in-the-face kind of song, ‘Tow the Line’ has this charging sense of urgency about it. Drake strums away on his acoustic guitar, a G-note on the bottom string droning, makes things feels quite tense. And I think it’s a tense situation Drake is detailing in the lyrics. It’s all or nothing in this period of time he’s singing about, and it seems that the outcome – success or total failure – depends on the ‘you’ person he’s directing the song towards. It’s an ultimatum, is what it is. There’s definitely a finality to it all, what was I talking about? Either the person sticks around and shows Drake the way or they leave and things turn out for the worse. It’s up for them to decide. That’s the final decision. And that’s how Nick Drake capped off his recording career, with issues unresolved, left in no man’s land. We all know it, the guy deserved so much more in his time.

#1402: Radiohead – The Tourist

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Ah, well, here’s another “last song” type deal again. As we slowly but surely get to the end of this series, Z and the numerals really aren’t that far away, I shouldn’t be surprised that these kinds of posts will occur more frequently. I wasn’t expecting four of them to happen on the bounce. But it’s all good. Here’s ‘The Tourist’, the last song on Radiohead’s OK Computer, the last song from that album I’ll be writing about on here. I don’t think there’s much else on a critical level about that record that I could say that hasn’t been stated already. Is it my favourite Radiohead album? I mean, it’s up there. Despite its arguable flaws, I rally moreso for Hail to the Thief. But I enjoy OK Computer a lot. Who knew an album wrapped around a theme of paranoia concerning the rapid development of technology in the late ’90s could be so thrilling to listen to? I didn’t get round to hearing the full album until 2010, years removed from its original 1997 release. It didn’t sound dated then. It still doesn’t sound dated today.

From ‘Electioneering’ onwards, the second half of OK Computer decreases in tempo with each passing track. Everything is brought to a close with ‘The Tourist’, the slowest song, I’m sure, on the whole album, delivered in a steady 3/4 time. I had the same experience with it that I had with ‘Let Down’ on my first listen-through. The verses of ‘The Tourist’ were going along at their relaxed pace, Thom Yorke melodically wailing, harmonising with himself and elongating notes that reverberated into the distance. All was just fine. But then the “Hey, man, slow down” chorus came in, and I had a strong, strong feeling that I’d heard it somewhere years before. The chugging guitars then entered the frame, and I was certain this was a song I knew already. I’m very sure it was used in an advert for something in the very early 2000s. For what brand is long-forgotten. But here was that song from that advert, and I wasn’t even purposefully looking for it. It’s always nice when those kinds of instances happen.

Once I had the album, I obviously had to go look up some facts about the songs on there. Do my due research. When it comes to ‘The Tourist’, the big thing I remember finding out was that it was written by lead guitarist Jonny Greenwood. I never knew if ‘written’ just referred to the music, but a quote from Thom Yorke recalls how Greenwood wrote it in disdain for American tourists who were frantically working around some spots in France. The “Hey, man/idiot, slow down” refrains were very literal. So I guess it was both music and lyrics. And in another way, it loops the album around with the chorus lyrics preceding the car crash that happens in first track ‘Airbag’. It was the last song to be included on the album, and it was after its inclusion that Thom Yorke stopped waking up early in the mornings a nervous wreck because OK Computer now had its resolution. What better way to finish it than with a ‘ding’ of a bell, like a microwave when the time’s run out. Got to give a lot of love for a very hot album.

#1400: Klaxons – Totem on the Timeline

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There I was pouring my heart out a couple days ago about the last ever post by a band on the blog, but had I known that the same thing would be happening for Klaxons right after, I probably wouldn’t have bothered. Yeah, it’s the last time you’ll see Klaxons on here too. But including today’s song, I only wrote about four of the group’s tracks. I don’t have as close a personal feeling towards them. But Klaxons were a big thing in their time. It’s something I must have said in the other Klaxons posts, but 2007, that was their year. They were the figureheads of the “new rave” scene that was happening. I remember NME being all over that, highlighting bands like Hadouken!, New Young Pony Club, CSS… and others. I wonder how they’re all doing. Klaxons’ debut Myths of the Near Future was the album everyone was waiting for, myself included, and before it was officially released, NME had the album as an exclusive on their website. I don’t think I ever said anything about that before, but the link is proof. Just have to select “Just albums” and click next, you’ll see ‘Klaxons’ eventually.

And that’s how I got to know ‘Totem on the Timeline’. By the time the album exclusive was up, I was well aware of tunes like ‘Atlantis to Interzone’, ‘Golden Skans’, and ‘Magick’. They’d all been singles in the months prior. Oh, ‘Gravity’s Rainbow’ too. The album begins with ‘Two Receivers’, which is all right, a nice start to everything. But ‘Totem…’ was the first album track that I really got into. The tune has a remarkably simple structure. The second verse is the same as the first, and otherwise it’s all chorus bar a bass guitar-driven instrumental section. Lyrically, it’s a bit of a surreal one. Apart from the refrains where the three vocalists sing about being in Club 18-30 and meeting a number of historical figures, whatever else they’re singing about is anyone’s guess. I don’t mind those kinds of songs. You know those ones that maybe go for more of a feel rather than relying on the substance. I can’t hate it. Maybe others would feel differently.

I guess what I like most about the song is it just sounds like all four members, raw, in a room playing it in one run-through. Maybe there’s a vocal overdub, probably that falsetto one, but I think that would be it. Probably the most straight-up rock tune on the first half of the album, with a little keyboard on top. I dig the ascending / descending guitar riff that the vocal melody almost follows too. Now, like I said earlier, because of the way ‘Totem…”s structured, once you’ve heard the first verse and chorus, you’ve more or less heard the rest of the track. To anyone who likes a little variety in their favourite songs, I’m just saying. But this is my blog. I can take a dense song from time to time. And other times, a repetitive number will do the trick. ‘Totem…’ ticks that box for me. So, thanks Klaxons. 2007 was definitely a time to be alive. Never did get round to listening to their second or third albums. I should get to them one of these days.

#1369: Kanye West – Through the Wire

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I remember ‘Through the Wire’ being a single when it first came around in those halcyon days of 2003. Its music video was playing somewhere, and little notifications popped up covering how Kanye West was in a car accident where he almost died, but didn’t, and had to have his jaw wired shut. Whoever was running those notes made it very clear that he hadn’t passed away, he was very much alive. But eight-year-old me didn’t get the picture. Aaliyah had died a couple years earlier, and the video for ‘More Than a Woman’ came out posthumously. I don’t think I’d got over that and was convinced that ‘Through the Wire’ was that type of deal. But then 2004 came around, videos from The College Dropout were dropping for ‘All Falls Down’, ‘The New Workout Plan’ and others. I slowly but surely became convinced that Kanye West might not have actually died after all. My sister got The College Dropout, either as a gift or by her own actions, and there’s many a memory I have of hearing its music around the house during those days.

So, ‘Through the Wire’. What could I say about it that isn’t covered in its Wikipedia page, really? It was Kanye West’s debut single, properly introducing the world to the man if they hadn’t paid attention to the production credits he’d racked up to that point. It’s the song he initially recorded vocals for with his jaw wired shut while he was recovering from the near-fatal crash he experienced when he had fallen asleep at the wheel of his car. When the song first came around, I didn’t think his voice didn’t sound all that bad considering his situation. It turned out he had just re-recorded the vocal when his jaws were free again. The original recording shows how much he could really only mumble in the state his face was in. So, as he says, he was very much delivering his message through the wires. Plus, it heavily samples Chaka Khan’s ‘Through the Fire’, with Khan’s vocals pitched-up to the maximum, a standard in the “chipmunk soul” West brought to the mainstream during that period. Chaka Khan says she didn’t like what West did to her voice. She also performed her song live alongside him at the VMAs. Who knows how she feels? All I can tell you for certain is that I like it, if it wasn’t clear.

I listened to this song again yesterday, just to gear myself up and gain some thoughts on what I wanted to write. I only just realised that at about 1:40 in the song, whoever’s playing the bass guitar plays a bum note before carrying on. It’s hard not to notice it now. But that miniscule detail can’t detract from the overall result. ‘Through the Wire’ is a classic tale of the phoenix rising from the ashes, with West humorously recounting his experiences of the crash, the aftermath and his experience in the hospital. “The doctor said I had blood clots / But I ain’t Jamaican, man”. I’ve always liked that lyric. It’s simple, but it does the job. I could go through the track line-by-line, but there’s no fun in that. And there are websites available for that purpose anyway. Generally, it’s a track like this that makes me miss how Kanye West used to be. He poked fun at that kind of sentiment in 2016. But in these times, it rings truer than ever. The Life of Pablo was his last album, though, wasn’t it? Can’t remember him releasing anything else afterwards.

#1358: Nick Drake – Things Behind the Sun

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It always comes back to Pink Moon. There have been a few “last songs from an album” posts around recently. After this, there’s only one more to come from Pink Moon. Any fan of it will be able to correctly guess what song that post will be for. But for now, this one’s for ‘Things Behind the Sun’. The track is the longest one on Nick Drake’s third and final studio album, positioned right in the middle of it, acting more as the closing number for the LP’s first half before you’d flip the vinyl around and listen to the second. Even back when I first heard the track in late, late 2012, it did feel like I was listening to what was meant to be considered the record’s most poignant moment. This and the preceding instrumental, ‘Horn’, together make up a one-two punch of poignancy. They both sounded so much sadder than anything else than the numbers that came before. But then again, I think ‘Horn’ acts as more of the tone setter, the moment of quiet reflection before the storm of ‘Things…’ begins soon after.

Not like ‘Things…’ is this wild, raucous rock number or anything. It’s just as acoustic as everything else the album delivers. It’s a storm in terms of the tone… there’s something uneasy, disquieting about it. It’s probably the minor key it’s in for the verses. That would do it. ‘Things Behind the Sun’ sees Drake detail his disillusionment with his musical endeavours. He goes out to perform, but he doesn’t trust the people who go and watch him. And as he goes about his way, observing people on his idle travels, he sees how they act and concludes that there’s no point in trying to win their hearts with his music – the likelihood is they won’t listen anyway. It seems to me that this is a track – another being ‘Harvest Breed’ – where he more or less implies that he won’t be around for much longer, or at least has thought about the end of his life, but doesn’t want to “name the day” on which it happens or reveal that he’s tried to end it before. So until then, where the more sprightly, happier chord progressions come in, he’ll take his time, find delight in the dark humour he appreciates that makes other people frown and generally keep to himself with his head down while he carries on feeling depressed. He’s comfortable in his state of dejection. It’s all very bittersweet.

And just like almost everything other song on Pink Moon. the track is provided to you solely by Nick Drake with his weary vocal and fingerpicked acoustic guitar. Goes to show how much you can do with so little. One thing I’ve always liked about this tune is how rhythmic Drake’s playing style is. He sort of skips around from one chord to the next throughout, playing a root note or two in between. It really shows during the guitar break halfway through when he jumps higher and higher with the progression before dipping back downwards again and repeating the process again. I’ve always thought this and ‘Which Will’ – which if you didn’t guess, will be the next song – both had a rhythm that could have been infused into a hip-hop track of some kind easily, which I guess would be sacrilege to some for weird reasons, but it’s just how I feel. Then Kendrick Lamar used a re-recorded sample of ‘Things…’ in one of his own songs – unreleased, mind you – and my point was proven. But overall, it’s disheartening to listen Drake’s track and hear how let down he was by the fact – and it was a fact at the time – that his music wasn’t going anywhere, not making him the big star that he wanted to be and that people told him he could be. It happened eventually, people love his music now. If only he’d stuck around.