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#977: Mac DeMarco – On the Level

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Mmm-mmm. Just want to wrap myself in a blanket and let my mattress swallow me whole when listening to this one. ‘On the Level’, another one of Mac DeMarco’s, was released as the third single from the then-upcoming release of his album This Old Dog in 2017. While the anticipation was building towards the records release date, I was studying for my final exams in university. I’m sure I did hear ‘Level’ when it was unveiled on YouTube, but I think I listened through my iPhone speakers and so didn’t really get the whole picture. But with some good headphones on, those warm ethereal synths that open the track and are a constant throughout are a cleansing sonic experience.

Because I’m usually so zoned in on the sound and Mac DeMarco’s lilting, heavily-reverbed vocal, I’ve gotta admit the lyrical content within the song is something that’s gone one ear and out the other over these years. From the titular phrase, I’ve always assumed the track to be about feeling content, on a certain wave, like there’s nothing much to do but just let life be and let time pass without feeling too guilty about it. But after looking up the lyrics for the purpose of writing this, I’ve found my interpretation to have been just a bit off. Though I still kind of like the way I’ve taken it. Really, it’s another instance of existential reflection on the album, with DeMarco somewhat coming to terms about getting old and coming to something of an understanding with his estranged father.

Coming near the end of the album, ‘Level’ provides that last moment of bliss before things become quite spacey in the following track and downright sad in the closer. DeMarco described it as a “kind of a sister song to ‘Chamber of Reflection’” from Salad Days. It’s hard to disagree. Both synth-heavy and led by very memorable synth melodies with a distinct lack of guitar in the frame. Whenever DeMarco does this type of track, it usually ends with impressive results.

#955: Maxïmo Park – Now I’m All Over the Shop

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I don’t have a deep connection to this one as I do to the others on A Certain Trigger, I gotta say. The other tracks I’ve talked about that are also from that album I came to know through seeing their music videos multiple on the television. ‘Now I’m All Over the Shop’ I had to come to grips with straight from audio, and it was maybe that second or third listen of it that it got that hold on me that songs can usually do for a lotta people. It comes near the end of the record, and when you come to that point in any album you start to think that the energy might give out a little or the song’s might start to decline in quality. But it isn’t this case, with this track proving the point. It’s a short, sharp burst of energy.

To be ‘all over the shop’ is a British way of saying ‘confused’, ‘disorganised, or ‘in a state of disarray’ if you want to get fancy with it. Lyricist and singer Paul Smith, or at least the narrator within this track, is left in this state it seems after the end of a relationship where nothing seemed to be going right anyway. He tried to be polite and tolerate the other person’s ways through gritted teeth, but ultimately realises that this way of dealing with things isn’t fooling anyone, especially not himself. In fact, judging by the lyrics throughout, he’s quite disgusted with the whole situation.

What really gets the gears going is the instrumentation throughout. It begins with this really tinny-sounding guitar line, then joined in by Smith on vocals and these strange out of key runs on a piano. It’s deceiving at first, but then the pre-chorus starts with a proper explosion of guitars and cymbals. From then on it’s an energetic and bustling composition. Instruments drop out and in again alongside emphatic strikes on the drums, scales climb and descend, drum rolls occur all over this thing. It’s one of those tracks to pogo to and not do much dancing to. Mainly thrashing around and flailing your arms in random directions. Again, it may not be considered to be one of the noteworthy tracks on here. I’ve got no evidence to support that statement. That’s just me assuming. But it’s a favourite of mine, so really that’s all that matters.

#952: Eels – Novocaine for the Soul

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‘Novocaine for the Soul’ is the first song on Eels’ debut album Beautiful Freak and was the band’s first released single back in ’96. It introduced the world to the detached outlook on life taken by frontman Mark Oliver Everett, commonly referred to as E, a theme would carry on throughout a lot of the band’s work. As a ’90s baby myself, I wouldn’t have come across the song until way later, most likely when its video showed on MTV2 out of the blue one day. The visual of the three band members floating in the air was quite the suitable accompaniment for the music, even if the video static censoring of the word ‘fucking’ in there is a bit much. I’ve had the imagery from the video in my head whenever I hear this one.

What the narrator is this track is asking for when they refer to ‘novocaine for the soul’ is basically anything meaningful to get at the least a bit excited about. I don’t know if the opening lyrics are ‘iconic’, I think that’s words thrown around a lot these days. But an opening line of “Life is hard, and so am I/You better give me something so I don’t die,” that’s a pretty good way to start things off in my eyes. Sets the scene straight. He’s a simple man who doesn’t want to die too soon. He knows he’s gotta go someday, but before then could someone give him something to be happy about. There’s a whole bunch of sarcasm going on, but it’s also very sincere in its ways which was what the ’90s in music was all about when it comes down to it.

Track’s got a nice groove, one that I don’t think you’d usually expect from the usual alternative rock of the ’90s. The three-piece of £ on guitar, Tommy Walter on bass and Butch on drums really lay down that foundation. What properly sets the track apart is the inclusion of these grand strings that appear throughout. Not sure whether it’s a real string quartet or a string-setting on a Mellotron. If it’s the latter, they certainly sound very real. Think that may be down to Jon Brion’s hand in the production. Looking at the things he’s worked on, he’s always been handy in getting some good-sounding strings on a song.

#922: They Might Be Giants – Nightgown of the Sullen Moon

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If you were one of the OG They Might Be Giants fans back in the 80s and around when ‘They’ll Need a Crane’ was released as another single from the band’s Lincoln album, you would have been lucky to stumble upon ‘Nightgown of the Sullen Moon’. The track was one of three B-sides on the They’ll Need a Crane EP, alongside ‘It’s Not My Birthday’ and ‘I’ll Sink Manhattan’. Once the two Johns were signed to major-label Elektra Records, another compilation was then released including all of the B-sides the band had officially released in the form of Miscellaneous T which a brought something of a larger attention to it.

There are a few interpretations as to what this track is about. There’s a selection you can see on the band’s dedicated Wiki page. From my point of view, I always saw it as a description of a person’s transition into the next life after falling into a door in an awkward manner and dying on the spot. Sounds quite tragic, but you’ll see the lyrics and kind of get it. The first verse describes the accident, I would take the titular ‘nightgown’ as heaven pretty much, and the following verse captures the person’s feelings of being within this new environment. They’re not on drugs, but they feel like they’re floating on air. And they begin to feel bored eventually, which shares the same sentiment as that Talking Heads song that’s also about heaven. In typical TMBG fashion, the song’s dang catchy and the melody throughout is off the charts, contrasting with the almost brutal subject. It’s also carried by this great I want to say Calypso-influenced rhythm, that’s accentuated by the introduction of bongos in the final choruses. There’s a lot of syllables John Linnell has to sing in each line, and there are points where you can him hear him inhaling sharply between them so he has enough breath. For a song that’s only two minutes, it’s filled with little things here and there that you can pick out with each listen

Like John Lennon with ‘Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds’, John Linnell was inspired to write the track of its name after being shown a drawing that a person’s child had drawn. It’s a very poetic phrase, ‘nightgown of the sullen moon’. Reminds me of something you’d see in those classic books. Very unique. But it came as a surprise to Linnell when he found that the phrase was already the title of a children’s book that had been published in 1983. Must have taken some of the magic out of the phrase just that bit. According to the wiki, it’s one of the band’s most popular songs, but they’ve never performed it live. If they ever did, it would be a sight.

#920: The Beatles – The Night Before

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‘The Night Before’ was one of the first few tracks of the Beatles where I heard it and thought, “Wow, these Beatles people aren’t actually too bad.” It was 2009. Earlier that year I downloaded Sgt. Pepper just to see how it was the greatest album ever as I had read in a lot of places. I thought the songs were just all right. The mixing didn’t do them much justice. So I kind of left the Beatles aside and pursued other things. But later that year their whole catalogue was released alongside The Beatles: Rock Band, all on the same day, and VH1 Classic was showing a “Beatlemania” slot that dedicated about 30 minutes of air time to Beatles music videos. Seeing those pretty much sent me down a bit of a spiral. I haven’t stopped being a Beatles fan since then.

Representing ‘The Night Before’ was its little section cut out from the Help! movie. The closest I can get to showing you that clip is via the video below, which uses alternative audio and switches some camera shots around. But seeing the four members actually ‘playing’ together, seeing how happy they were alongside the general catchiness and upbeat tone of the music was a bit of a revelation. Before then I’d only ever properly heard of the Beatles through the news and “Oh, how great they were” and all that, so the usual reaction would be “Well, how good could they have been really?” And with ‘The Night Before’ I was swayed to the other side that little bit. Then in that “Beatlemania” slot, ‘Penny Lane’ played and that was that. Went to search for those songs on YouTube on the daily.

You could definitely argue that it’s very difficult for a Beatles track to be considered ‘under the radar’, but I think in this case this song might just go under that category. There’s not a lot of people out there who you could say “Ah, man, “The Night Before”, that’s song’s great,” and expect a reciprocated response from. Except Beatles fans, and even then they might not listen to anything before Rubber Soul. I’ll always hold it dear though. For that sentimental value as described above, and because it’s just a good song. Paul McCartney belts out his lines, George Harrison and John Lennon harmonise in response. There’s an electric piano which makes it sound a lot smoother. Ringo Starr’s banging away on the drums. I think there’s meant to be a sense of sadness to the song, but I can’t help but feel good when it’s on.