Tag Archives: the

#868: Beastie Boys – The Move

Leave a reply

Some time in 2018, I went through the discography of Beastie Boys through Spotify while at work. It was the type of place where no one really looked at what you were doing, pretty much as long as you showed up. But I did it. One album each day, though I think I skipped The Mix-Up. All I can say is when it comes to a Beastie Boys album, you never know what you can get because the three members (MCA, Ad-Rock and Mike D) decided quite soon that they would make anything they wanted when making a record. Hard rock, dub, slow acoustic jams, those were always on there. But what they excelled at was hip-hop and their raps, bouncing off each others words with excitement and enthusiasm.

Their 1998 album Hello Nasty starts off too strongly. First comes ‘Super Disco Breakin” which’ll get its own post way later, and then the second punch arrives with ‘The Move’. The title phrase isn’t mentioned in the lyrics, or in any verse rhymed by a member, but I’d like to think it’s called as such because this track doesn’t stick to one beat. For a good chunk, it’s straight boom-bap, then a harpsichord comes in for a brief moment, the boom-bap starts again, then the beat changes into one led by this double bass groove, followed by a lengthy period where the last few words uttered by the three echo into the distance that unexpectedly turns into an interlude of ‘El Rey y Yo’ by Los Angeles Negros. You can’t say it’s not entertaining. All in three and a half minutes.

Overall, the track is yet another braggadocious offering by the trio. The Beastie Boys were back, it had been four years since their last album at that point, and they’re just as good as ever. There was never any need to doubt them. Some one-liners that always stick to me when listening: “I’m intercontinental when I eat French toast”, “Dogs love me ’cause I’m crazy sniffable”, and I particularly like the delivery on “‘Cause I’m that fool that broke the kEeEy”. Always brings a smile. There’s also a small part where the three exchange syllables in one line, which I never even properly realized until I saw a YouTuber’s reaction to this the other day. Good, good track. Fair to say that it’s overlooked in the Beasties catalogue? I would say yes.

#863: Brakes – The Most Fun

1 Reply

Brighton-based band Brakes’ first album Give Blood is funny in a way. It contains songs where they suddenly end, just when you were properly getting into their rhythm, or when they’re about to hit some sort of climax. ‘The Most Fun’ is one of them. It’s only a minute and a half, made up of two chords with no choruses or bridges. More one long verse with some periods where there’s no singing for a few seconds.

Vocalist Eamon Hamilton, backed by Matt Eaton (a member of fellow Brighton band Actress Hands), harmonise about the time the gypsies came to town and gave everybody a weekend to remember. Before then, they were just country boys doing usual country boy shit, I guess. But then the gypsie came. They put up a tent, invited everyone in, and it’s fair to say judging by the track’s last few lines that they all had a great time. And after the reveal that nothing was ever the same after those nights, the song ends and the band launch right into the following track. Those first few tracks really keep the album rolling along quite swiftly.

So there’s not much else to say about this one. The first few times I heard it, I did think it sounded more like an interlude more than anything else. But then I started to appreciate the gradual swell and increasing intensity of the music underneath the lyrics, and the almost droning effect that the guitars and vocals brought when combined together. It’s also a very relatable set of lyrics. It’s a nice one. Yeah, it’s short, but it really says all it has to in its time.

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

Leave a reply

‘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

2 Replies

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

Leave a reply

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.