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#1085: Eels – Rags to Rags

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I’m not sure if this is something I’ve ever talked about on here. For now, let’s say I haven’t. I had a YouTube account from 2008 – 2011 where I uploaded full albums and other various musical related stuff on there. This was back when you could actually get away with that stuff. But one day I went a bit too far, got my final strike and the account was shut down. Terminated. I was devastated. Three years of my life sorta gone just like that. My own fault, I know. Looking back on it, I think it caused slight bout of depression that coincided with my final two years in secondary school. It wasn’t a fun time. I was still going through that when listening to Eels’ Beautiful Freak album in September 2012. How am I so specific with the month? Well, ’cause it was a year on from when YouTube took my channel down. ‘Novocaine for the Soul’ I’d known prior to that first full listen to the album, but it was ‘Rags to Rags’ that seemed to capture how I was feeling at the time.

The track is written from the perspective of a guy who looks in the mirror, doesn’t think much of what he sees and has something of an existential crisis despite having gone through the ideal American Dream of coming from nothing to suddenly having everything he could ever want. All this is spurred on by the sight of a lone spider crawling on the reflection of the narrator’s eye. Singer/guitarist E might just be singing about himself on this one, correct me if I’m wrong. He’s fulfilled his dream, but still feels worthless like a bunch of rags and rust, coming to the conclusion that this ‘dream’ was ultimately pointless. The only time he gets some solace is in his dreams when he thinks of his hometown, reminiscing about the railroad tracks (something he’d sing about again later in the band’s material) and the pussy willow (something I didn’t know existed until I heard this song).

It’s been 11 years now since that first listen. Some ways it really feels like that amount of time has passed, in others it feels like it was just last week. Either way, the song still provides that feeling-down comfort, even if its lyrical subject matter is a bit of a downer. Some good alternative rock music right here. ‘Rags’ was released as a single in 1996, and from what it looks like a music video was made for it, but the complete version of it seems to be wiped off the face of the earth. You can see a good portion of it, but its beginning and end are missing. Funnily enough, the video finishes before E delivers the line about the American Dream not meaning ‘a fucking thing’. Surely that’s just coincidental, right? If anyone from Eels is reading, let’s get the video back.

#1043: Nick Drake – Place to Be

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Well, well, it’s Nick Drake again. Though this won’t be the last time I write about him on this website, it’ll be the last time you’ll see a track of his in this particular section. Who knew that basically a quarter of the songs on Pink Moon began with the letter ‘P’? Never would have thought about it without this, would you? Not like it’s very useful information anyway. Representing the last of the Ps from Pink Moon today is the album’s second track, ‘Place to Be’. With the preceding title track providing a more surreal, symbolic take on Drake’s outlook on life, ‘Place to Be’ is where he lays the facts down straight.

I believe this track is the last one on the album on which he uses a plectrum to play his acoustic guitar, with the rest all consisting of his intricate fingerpicking. And as a result, just like the ‘Pink Moon’ track, ‘Place to Be’ has a very driving momentum to it with Drake playing the guitar with an air of confidence and striding force. The strings ring out with a rich tone to them, and the music overall lures you in with its warmth. But on top, Drake tells the listener how he is as the man who sings to you compared to the days of yesteryear, and he’s not doing too well. The lyrics are plain to understand. When he was younger, he was ignorant to the cold, hard truth. But now he has himself hardened as a person and can see things for what they are. He used to be vibrant and bright, but now has become darker in his moods. He asks to be given a place to be, and by that I assume he means a place to just exist without any troubles. Maybe somewhere to belong. It’s left up in the air, but it taps into a feeling I’m sure is felt universally.

The third and final verse contains the most telling and hard-hitting revelation out of those listed in the previous two. Referencing his ‘Day Is Done’ track, which bear in mind was only released three years prior, he tells the listener that compared to then he was now the weakest he’s ever felt. So weak in a need for something or someone that isn’t fully disclosed. They’re just referred to as ‘you’. Maybe you is the ‘place to be’ itself. Maybe it’s a loved one. I’ve seen interpretations that suggest that ‘you’ is death. Any way you look at it though, it’s a sad affair. But instead of making it too melodramatic, he transferred his energy into an beautiful earnest acoustic performance. It does make you wonder how things changed so much for the worse for him in that relatively short amount of time.

#1016: They Might Be Giants – Part of You Wants to Believe Me

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Just another They Might Be Giants song. There’s still a lot more to come in this thing. Maybe I might have said that they’re one of my favourite musical groups ever. If I haven’t, which I’m sure isn’t the case, I’m saying it again. ‘Part of You…’ was initially released as the fifth and final promotional track in advance of the band’s then-upcoming album BOOK in 2021. Slightly over a year has passed since the record’s release, and I’ve come to feel that it’s probably their best since Join Us arrived in 2011. Though it’s all subjective. You can’t go wrong with all the other releases that came in between.

What ‘Part of You…’ is is a delightful three-minute power pop ditty, primarily composed by John Linnell out of the two Johns. The opening descending/ascending melody of the keyboard in the introduction drew me right away, and that it’s also the same melody that Linnell sings in the opening verse really buried it in the brain. There’s no real discernible chorus, but more three sections that each have their own distinct melody. There’s the opening verse, the “Tiny voices” section, and the “Somewhere else” section which goes over the chord progression of the introductory verse. They make up the first half of the song in that order and are then switched around to make up its second. You’ll understand what I’m blabbering on about when you actually listen to the thing. What really matters is Linnell – Flansburgh too, but he’s not the song’s writer – is a master of melody and good hooks in a song and that’s all on display yet again in this one.

I haven’t been able to wrap my head around what the track is about, though. Like a few other Linnell songs, the lyrics are framed in this circular, elliptical manner that you have to take some time to think about. Not in the “Oh, you really have to think about this, man.” way, but more in the “That’s a funny way of wording a simple thing.” manner. There are double-negatives, maybe even a triple, so it kind of adds a bit more for the brain to process. But, from my general understanding of themes that can show up in TMBG songs, I think Linnell is writing from the perspective of a narrator who has either lied or said something straight up wrong to another person, and that person – who has to take medication for unknown reasons – is having an internal struggle on whether this person is telling the truth. Then I think the rest of the track is about what is happening in this person’s body as they try to process this potential lie the narrator’s telling them. Just my two cents, though. It’s known that TMBG just want you to enjoy their songs and not analyse them so much. But it’s hard not to have the urge when the lyrics are written in such a unique manner.

#969: Pavement – Old to Begin

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Stephen Malkmus turned 30 years old in the spring of ’96, and, you know, turning 30 is supposed to be a big change in your life. Meant to be a time of reflection. Have you grown to be the person you thought you would when you were a kid? What’s next? Or is this all there is? I’m getting there, so the existential crisis hasn’t hit just yet. But I think Malkmus had one in his own way, and his concerns and feelings about the milestone were somewhat detailed in Pavement’s 1997 album Brighten the Corners. In his own cryptic, surreal and sarcastic style as always. The music reflected it too. A bit of switch-up from the winding and unpredictable nature of 95’s Wowee Zowee, Brighten… was much more straighter and somewhat digestible. No less entertaining though.

After offering observational takes on the music industry and touring respectively with ‘Stereo’ and ‘Transport Is Arranged’ and contemplating about settling down in ‘Shady Lane’, Malkmus puts the focus of aging within the lyric for ‘Old to Begin’. ‘Embrace the senile genius, watch him reinvent the wheel’ is the song’s first line, which I’ve always thought was a funny way to start things off. Considering he’s probably writing about himself, it couldn’t be a more self-deprecating statement for a guy that was seen as this indie prince-god-man to a lot of adulating fans. From there he puts in an idea of ‘feeling like a fixture set in 1966’, referencing the year that he was born, and in the track’s final verse utlises a list of things that you sort of begin to worry about once you hit the big 3-0, like credit cards, back problems and general stress. I’m telling you, once he hit that age, Malkmus started to feel the hands of time creep up on him a bit. Although, I could very much be wrong and be spewing a bunch of nothing. It’s my take, is all.

I get a personal kick out of the introduction, myself. One guitar strum is followed by a climbing bass guitar chord progression, followed by a synth that imitates the bass, followed by a guitar that plays the same chord progression again before the drums enter and everyone comes in together. It’s an engaging way to start things off for a track that has a real mid-tempo, slow-moving feel to it. For a guy who knows that he can’t sing strong enough, Malkmus can certainly reach those chesty high notes when he wants. His ability to sing low and quiet before suddenly putting some power into his vocal as he does in the verses here is not an easy feat for any vocalist. But he’s able to do so with ease, and it all culminates with the track’s cathartic ending where the intensity ramps up and he’s roaring some “la-la”‘s in your ears. It’s not a track that a lot of Pavement fans will seek out, but it does the job for this guy typing.

#965: Mac DeMarco – Ode to Viceroy

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Honestly, when it comes to ‘…Viceroy’, I’m not too sure I can pinpoint the exact moment when it clicked with me. I can say for sure that I would have heard it the first time when going through Mac DeMarco’s 2 for the first time in 2014, not too long after Salad Days had dropped and was instantly one of my favourite albums of recent times. I do recall wondering how the word ‘Viceroy’ was pronounced before the track started. Being from the UK, I don’t think I’d ever seen/heard that word in my life. Once DeMarco sings the word, it’s actually very obvious. I also remember ‘…Viceroy’ being a bit of a slow burner for me. The track’s the longest tune on the album, but it finishes off just under 4 minutes, which is a pretty standard song length. But still, it took a few listens for it to sink in. But once it did, well, just couldn’t get enough of it. Whoo, it’s a jam.

This jam is exactly what it says in the title. It’s a dedication to Viceroy cigarettes, one that came about after DeMarco started trying another brand of cigarettes, realized they were terrible and fully appreciated how great his beloved Viceroys were. There was a period in the mid-10s where DeMarco was the poster boy of indie rock, and his dedicated followers really wanted to be like him, wearing similar attire to the guy and smoking Viceroys just to be that closer to him. He however has made it clear that this is not a track that is meant to endorse smoking, but rather one that’s meant to put emphasis on his terrible smoking addiction. I think that unsettling outro with those heartbeat-like pulses that go on and on while a deep-pitched DeMarco starts choking puts a highlight on that too. But the glorious minutes are formed by a glorious song, one that only consists of two verses and two choruses, but the melodies are so memorable and the mood is so enticing. Really, it’s no wonder that fans wanted to smoke after hearing it. It’s too good not to smoke to.

What I’ve come to appreciate more and more is the contrast between those reverb-soaked guitars and DeMarco’s drier vocal that sits over the top of them. The juxtaposition is one that works too well. When you hear it, you come to realise DeMarco doesn’t really sing that much, and it’s the guitar that’s doing a lot of the melodic work. A lot of string bends and fills going on in those verses. And then those culminate in the call and response choruses with DeMarco singing and the guitar soloing in response. Man, it’s just good structure. And you can sing along to every part. This song’s great. Centerpiece of 2. Admittedly, I think Salad Days is slightly better. Just a bit more consistent. But 2 has very high highs, and ‘Ode to Viceroy’ is right up there. This’ll be the last track from that album I write about. If I had started just a bit later, ‘Cooking Up Something Good’ and ‘Dreamin” would have had their own posts on here. Wasn’t meant to be, but I’d suggest you check those out too.