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#855: Queens of the Stone Age – Monsters in the Parasol

‘Monsters in the Parasol’ wasn’t an official single from Queens of the Stone Age’s Rated R album back around the time when it was released. But it has it’s own proper music video in which its protagonist on a mission, walking through the streets of what I guess is Los Angeles, to beat up some kids who’ve stolen a puppy and return it to its rightful owner. And to buy some new shoes while they’re at it. I’ll assume it was a promotional single of some kind. Whatever the reason a video was made for it is doesn’t really matter. What does is that it was one of the few Queens videos that would randomly show on MTV2 back in the old times of the mid-2000s. That’s how I came to know it.

The track was inspired by Josh Homme’s first experience with LSD, and its lyrics are just a description of the things he witnessed while high on the drug. There was real sister of Paul’s who Homme was attracted to, but when he saw her acid-tinted eyes she looked like an alien. The walls were closing in, things started to grow hair, and Paul’s dad seemed to be warped and bubbling. There’s nothing to look into very deeply with this one, it’s all from a personal experience. And it’s all surreal, which is to be expected when discussing the typical hallucinogen. There’s a lot of things I like about this one. It has a driving momentum; once it starts it never really slows down or loses its flow. And the track is also filled with these memorable riffs in each section, that catchy hook during the “she won’t grow parts”, those cathartic hits after the “covered in hair” mentions, and those freaky guitar hooks in both channels during the choruses. There’s a lot of creepy whispering in there too. All those little things elevate the song in my ears.

Many may not know, but the song was actually released a few years earlier under the name ‘Monster in the Parasol’ on Volume 4 of The Desert Sessions, another musical collaboration-type deal that’s mainly ran by Josh Homme. In its original form, the track’s a lot lighter. There’s not as much force on there as the album version. Homme sings like he’s trying not to wake someone up, he doesn’t sound as weirded out as he would do on the later version. With that being said, it certainly another great take of the track. Plus, you can properly hear what those whispers are saying here.

#849: Ween – The Mollusk

Beautiful, beautiful stuff right here. ‘The Mollusk’ is the title track from the 1997 album by Ween, and after intro track ‘I’m Dancing in the Show Tonight’ is where the records themes of the sea and other things related to it truly begins. Mollusks aren’t the nicest creatures to look at. Mollusks are things like, snails, squids, octopuses. Things you usually go ‘ew’ or ‘whoa, cool’ at. Quite polarizing emotions. But Ween’s dedication to these animals make them sound like some of the most out there, mystical creatures to exist.

It starts straight away with the hypnotizing acoustic riff that is backed by that bubbling, whistling keyboard note that fritters and echoes into the distance. I don’t know where else in you could be placed in your mind other than a beach next to a calming wave within those opening seconds. The instrumental properly sets this calming momentum that lulls you into the track’s opening line, one where Gene Ween asks a little boy what he has and in response the backing vocals as the boy answer “Kind sir, it’s a mollusk I’ve found”. The whole song follows this sort of call and response tactic in the verses, they work well. And then they come together during the chorus to I guess symbolize this new interest in this mollusk that this man and the boy share. Describing it, it does sound quite strange. But listening to it really takes you to another place.

One question that’s usually asked about this song arises from its closing lyrics. Gene Ween proclaims to the listener that ‘there are three things that spur the mollusk from the sand’. Yet people are confused as he seems to list only one of those. I do think he lists them in plain sight. The waking of all creatures etc etc., one faint glance back into the sea, and its wandering eye. It’s obvious, isn’t it? It did take me a while to figure out too, gotta say. Oh, yeah, there’s also an episode of SpongeBob where he literally says “Mind your wandering eye, you little mollusk”. Reference to this song. It’s not breaking news.

#833: They Might Be Giants – The Mesopotamians

I’ve gone on about They Might Be Giants being a great band on here many a time. You don’t have to hear that again. I guess I’ll say, to stray away from the praise, that the album The Else is maybe one of my least favourites of theirs. Weren’t expecting that were you? Any TMBG fans reading who really like The Else, don’t want to grind ya gears. There are just a lot of songs on there that I don’t feel very strongly about. The ones that I do though, I have a great love for and written about. Except ‘Feign Amnesia’, I started liking that one a bit too late to make a post about it. But today’s post is dedicated to the album’s closer, ‘The Mesopotamians’.

Another song of They that only John Flansburgh and John Linnell could write. Gonna go on a limb and say that it’s mainly written by Linnell. He sings the lead vocal on here. This may be the only song in existence that even touches upon ancient Mesopotamian mythology. I did learn a bit about a Mesopotamian tale with Gilgamesh in my first year of university. But I’ve forgotten about that, and I’ll continue to pretend that Mesopotamia was led by the four characters as described in the Giants song. Within the track, Mesopotamia is described as this barren place that is ruled by the heroes of Sargon, Hammurabi, Ashiburnipal and Gilgamesh as they go around the place as a travelling band. They drive around in their van and play shows to no one, but they etch their lyrics into the ground with hope that anybody in the far-distant future stumbles upon them. There’s a reference to the whole Beatles ‘Paul Is Dead’ conspiracy theory in there too.

It’s a cheery number. It’s not a track that shouts ‘album closer’ to me. I saw the tracklist, saw it was the last song on the album, and when it ended I was still surprised that nothing came afterwards. There’s not that sense of finality to it. But that doesn’t stop the track itself from being an enjoyable one. It’s a playful take on these ancient figures from years and years ago which I assume are meant to be taken seriously. Nothing bad about that.

#823: Bob Dylan – Meet Me in the Morning

Bob Dylan does the blues on ‘Meet Me in the Morning’. The sixth number on Blood on the Tracks, the break-up album of all break-up albums (I think I read that somewhere), is in a standard AABA form that you’ll hear almost every other blues song. But it gets my head nodding every time that rhythm section kicks in. On the track, Dylan howls for his love to come back to him. He wishes to meet her at the intersection of 56th and Wabasha, gives all these poetic and wild examples of the things he’s done to prove that he’s earned her love. By the end, it seems he’s been waiting all day for her to arrive. Safe to say she doesn’t show. Guess he’s left in some pain; the way he sings the track symbolises that, I think.

It’s just that groove, man. There’s a lot of oomph behind that kick drum and the overall rhythm, but there’s also a stiffness to the delivery. It’s all hi-hat, open hi-hat and snare. Never a slam on the ride or crash cymbals. I guess this allows the different guitars and Dylan’s vocal to take over the soundscape. It’s been said that Dylan doesn’t have the greatest singing voice, but I can’t think of another track of his where he tries his hardest than on here. He reaches notes that could really surprise some people who listen to this for the first time. Reaches those higher notes with his chest and giving it a lot of gusto.

It took me a while to properly get into this track. It’s the most recent from that album that I added to my list. That was a couple years back or so. When I really sat down and listened to the record all the way through one day, ‘Morning’ suddenly stood out to me. It carries on a run of 10/10 tracks beginning with the album’s opener. None of which were written in the happiest of times for the man. Definitely my favourite album of his though.

#821: Eels – The Medication Is Wearing Off

Ah, this is a sad song. Listening to it the first time you might think it’s not too emotional, but knowing the context of it all adds some weight to it. Mark Oliver Everett, commonly known as ‘E’ and the main man behind the music of Eels, found himself to be the only surviving member of his family when both his sister and mother passed away within a short amount of time of one another. Him coming to terms with their loss became the main theme of the Electro-Shock Blues album, released in ’98, and ‘The Medication Is Wearing Off’ is the penultimate track.

The song sees E staring at this watch that he’s been given as a present by either his mother of sister (not quite sure which one) that’s still working and ticking away the seconds while both of his dearest relatives are no longer living. I feel that the song’s a blunt depiction of a person who really feels like they have nothing left. Going through the motions, walking down the street and looking through emails, but wondering what’s the point of it all when you feel so alone. You know that scene in The Simpsons where Homer’s mother leaves him again, and he sits on his car and stares at the night sky while the credits roll? This song is that scene.

The music’s so calming too. That glockenspiel that introduces it and those woodwinds that follow… Makes the whole track sound like a lullaby. Those programmed drums that keep the tempo are never intrusive and the bass is so warm. It’s not necessarily uplifting, though you can’t help but feel a bit good when listening to it. But then you see the lyrics and you think, “Oh”. It’s a conflicting thing. Obviously, you feel however you want to feel when you hear it.