Tag Archives: they might be giants

#1260: They Might Be Giants – Spine

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They Might Be Giants’ The Spine was the first album by the band that I owned physically. A lot of TMBG fans might ask why. The Spine, for whatever reason, isn’t considered to be one of their greatest moments. Was released in a bit of a wilderness period they were going through. Honestly, my request for the LP stemmed from desperately wanting to hear the transition between ‘Au Contraire’ and ‘Damn Good Times’ in an uninterrupted fashion. And it contained ‘Experimental Film’, which I found through Homestar Runner. I always had good times with the cartoon. But within the album is a number of strong songs, ones that I consider to be up there as some of the group’s best. Others not so much. But that’s how it usually goes with music.

Now a lot of people may argue that ‘Spine’ wouldn’t go in the category of best songs by They Might Be Giants. And I would probably agree. But there was a point where I was just singing it to myself out of the blue and on a frequent basis. So this obviously meant that I liked it without even really trying. ‘Spine’ is only 30 seconds long and is more of a transition piece between the album opener, aforementioned ‘Experimental Film’, and third song ‘Memo to Human Resources’. But even as that, I still get a kick out of it. It’s the first of two songs about the essential anatomic structure in our bodies. This one sung by John Linnell. ‘Spines’ by John Flansburgh comes around later on. I have it in my head that the two songwriters coincidentally wrote songs about the spine in their own respective free times, and once one had found out that the other had done the same, then it only seemed reasonable that the album they’d do next would be named The Spine.

In the six lines ‘Spine’ is made of, I think John Linnell is trying to depict a man going through a stressful time of some kind. Mentions of dragging feet across a back and walking fingers through a mind. Doesn’t sound like things are going according to plan in this narrator’s world. The band’s performance sounds quite heavy, but I put that to the fact that everything’s bunched up in the centre channel. Gives the whole atmosphere a very crowded feel. Initially, I thought it was a whole other singer on the track. Maybe someone the Johns knew and thought would do a good job. Really, it’s just John Linnell really delivering the words from his stomach, as opposed to the more nasal tones he usually provides. Just as soon as you feel the song progressing and feel like it’s going somewhere, it ends and you’re left wanting at least a minute more. At least when you’re in my shoes, that’s the case. But I can make do with what we have.

#1255: They Might Be Giants – Space Suit

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If you’re a frequent reader of this blog, you’ll have noticed the Giants’ stuff being a frequent occurrence here. I like their music a lot, to put it simply. 1992 marked the year that John Linnell and John Flansburgh had been playing together as the band known as They Might Be Giants for a decade. And in the same year they released Apollo 18, the second under their major-label contract with Elektra and their first self-produced record. Out of the first four albums which saw the two Johns performing everything except the rhythm section, Apollo 18 is the one sounding the most like a full rock band playing together. A bit of a precursor to what would arrive on their next album, when they actually did become a full rock band. But to cap Flansburgh and Linnell’s studio material as a duo off, they close out Apollo 18 with ‘Space Suit’, a reworking of the very first song the two made together when they created the band in 1982.

Things get a little bit hectic nearing the end of the album. One of the most notable moments on it comes in the ‘Fingertips’ suite, a collection of 21 little snippets of choruses and musical segments inspired by the jingles that play in the background of infomercials. That suite ends with the minute-long ‘I Walk Along Darkened Corridors’, which is played out to be the dramatic closer of the piece with Linnell putting on a faux-operatic voice alongside an emphatic “organ” and clarinets. But then ‘Space Suit’ comes along to properly end things in the form of a swinging, suitably spacey, 6/8-time instrumental, emphasising the ‘one man on guitar, one man on accordion’ setup the band originated with all those years prior.

John Flansburgh once had a guitar teacher in the early ’80s named Jack DeSalvo, who taught him a bunch of chords to use whenever convenient. With the chords he learned, Flansburgh went on to write ‘Space Suit’, but with its jazzy origins, it was originally titled ‘I’ll Remember 3rd Street’. The recording of the ‘3rd Street’ demo can be heard below. Much, much different from how it would turn out some years later. I can simply describe ‘Space Suit’ as an instrumental that consists of two parts, the one that has that ascending scale and the other containing the main melody, played by John Linnell’s accordion for the first time and then accompanied by Flansburgh’s vocals (buried deep in the mix) second time round. Makes it sound like the accordion itself is singing. Really enjoy when those cymbal crashes pack an extra punch about 40 seconds in. Put these all together, makes for some good listening.

#1241: They Might Be Giants – Someone Keeps Moving My Chair

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‘Someone Keeps Moving My Chair’ opens up the second half of They Might Be Giants’ album Flood, their brand-new record for 1990. My honest opinion, out of the first four LPs by the band featuring just the two Johns playing everything bar the rhythm section, Flood is maybe my least favourite. But it’s still really, really good. I just happen to like fewer songs from there compared to those from the other three. But when the songs are great on Flood, they’re instantaneous likes. At least they were to me, as was the case for today’s song in the hot seat.

‘…My Chair’ is a John Linnell-led TMBG composition and, in his words, “notes the exaggerated importance of petty concerns when everything else is going haywire.” And to lay this notion out, the song is a tale about a Mr. Horrible who seems to be idly going about his day while unnamed characters are desperately trying to get him to talk to ‘the ugliness men’ who are the phone. These no-names are intentionally attempting to annoy Mr. Horrible, being all up in his face, asking him a bunch of inane questions. But their antics are of no matter to Mr. Horrible, because the thing that’s really on his mind and taking up his time is that somebody insists on moving his chair behind his back. And there’s the ‘petty concern’ Linnell refers to.

The tune’s a lively, upbeat number, featuring one of John Linnell’s more nasally vocal performances which add so much character to the proceedings. The words and delivery wouldn’t hit as hard without that aspect of his voice. Same for all the others songs he takes the lead on. There’s something about those opening keyboard chords that make the track sound fixed in its time. Reminds me of some backing music to a ’90s shopping mall advert or montage in a TV show. I’m convinced that the guitar rundown during the “Mr. Horrible says I don’t mind…” part is lifted from Bruce Springsteen’s ‘Thunder Road’. But that doesn’t affect my enthusiasm for the song. You get the melody and the quality, all in a matter of 2-and-a-half minutes. It’s a good time.

#1227: They Might Be Giants – Snowball in Hell

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They Might Be Giants’ ‘Snowball in Hell’ from Lincoln is a number that I remember liking almost immediately after listening through that album for the first time sometime in 2010. I had actually heard the track years before when I was an actual kid who had just got broadband in the house and was checking out this Internet radio station on a place called LAUNCH, owned by Yahoo!. Before YouTube existed, if you wanted to listen to music and watch music videos, that site was the place to go. It’s thanks to that site that I have any idea who They Might Be Giants are. ‘Snowball in Hell’ played on a station one day. Being the, I think, 8-year old I was, I promptly forgot about it. Short attention span.

But hearing it again all those years later, in context with the album and fully paying attention, it felt like a song I properly knew and had been listening to for years up to that point. There was a warmth and familiar feeling to it proceedings, it felt like a given that it would be one of my favourite songs on the album. The track revolves around this two-note doorbell “ding-dong” melody, over which John Flansburgh sings about being in a less than ideal situation spurred on financial troubles. He sings with much sincerity, backed by harmonies from John Linnell, incorporating wordplay and lyrical twists that result in a few of the band’s most memorable and devastating lyrics. “Money’s all broke and food’s going hungry”. That’s a good one. “If it wasn’t for disappointment, I wouldn’t have any appointments”. That’s a great one.

The song is also notable for the breakdown, over which dialogue taken from a how-to-organize-yourself cassette plays. Given to him by album producer Bill Krauss for his 25th birthday, Flansburgh went on to find that the tape didn’t contain much in the way of advice. But he, Krauss and Linnell all found it interesting enough to let it have its own little snippet in ‘Snowball’. Permission wasn’t asked to use it. No one’s threatened to sue. And its inclusion goes down as one of many memorable moments in TMBG’s discography. Back in June, a cassette of rough mixes from the Lincoln sessions was found in the archives of a university in Canada, and a work-in-progress ‘Snowball in Hell’ was found on it. As you can tell, the mix is a bit different. The acoustic guitar is given more prominence, a different model drum machine is present and more snippets from the self-help cassette are used. It’s the same song in essence, but sometimes I prefer this rough mix to what ended up on the album. It’s certainly a different approach. All the more happy to know it exists.

#1225: They Might Be Giants – Snail Shell

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They Might Be Giants’ 1994 album John Henry was the first of the group’s to be performed by a full, rock ‘n’ rolling band, as opposed to the synthesized rhythm section and guitar and accordion performed and arranged by Johns Linnell and Flansburgh on the records that came before. I frequent the band’s subreddit from time to time. A common opinion among users on there is that John Henry is a definite favourite. I think it’s swell. In my mind, you can’t go wrong with any TMBG album, really. ‘Snail Shell’ is the second song on there and also had the great privilege of being its first single, the representative chosen to introduce the band’s new formation and sound.

Fans of They know that the two Johns aren’t your usual songwriters who explore the standard themes in their lyrics, and ‘Snail Shell’ is no exception. As I’ve come to see it, the song is told from the perspective of a narrator who becomes extremely grateful after being helped out of an uncomfortable situation by another person. They want to make it known to this saviour that their act of selflessness is appreciated, and they have a bit of an internal crisis in the process. If I were to describe a real-life situation, think if you did something as simple as open a door for someone and they then continued to thank you and ask if they could do something for you in return when all you want to do is walk on and get to where you need to be. This is the song written by that strangely grateful person.

According to the band’s drummer at the time, there was a lot of hope that the song would match the success of ‘Birdhouse in Your Soul’. That tune’s known to be one of the band’s signature numbers. ‘Snail Shell’ not so much. Though I’m a fan of it myself, Linnell’s vocal has this sort of phasing effect that I dig, Flansburgh’s guitar has a scratchy tone to it which makes the sound all the more better when he pulls of those crazy fills and runs, I do have to admit there’s a bit of an creepy feel to it. Think it’s the minor key that’s the catalyst behind it. The music video reinforces it. It doesn’t give much of a ‘first single’ vibe like I’d say ‘Destination Moon’ does for example, or ‘No One Knows My Plan’. Flansburgh had ‘Sleeping in the Flowers’. Probably more suitable choices. The track maybe didn’t bring the commercial success they wanted, but I’ll always be singing along to it. And that’s what this whole thing is all about.