Tag Archives: you

#1172: 1990s – See You at the Lights

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1990s. A band I’d be surprised anyone would know. If you were to comment and say, “Hey, don’t be so sure”, then, nice. You’re one of the few. I couldn’t say I have much of an opinion on the band though. First time I’d heard of them was back in 2007 or something. That was the ripe time for indie bands in the UK, those mid-2000s. And watching MTV2 in those days, there was always something new around the corner. 1990s showed up occasionally on the channel with the video, ‘You’re Supposed to Be My Friend’. That tune, I thought, was all right. What struck me was how both old and young the band looked, all at the same time. Then a few months down the line, the video for ‘See You at the Lights’ came round and the song became an instant hit to me. Lot of time was spent trying to figure out the usual time slot that the video was usually shown in. But then YouTube became available and I could watch/listen anytime I wanted.

It all begins with that beginning wordless hook. If that doesn’t get you singing along, then there’s not much point listening to the rest of the song. It always come back to it. But when it doesn’t, the song concerns a narrator who’s going out with a lady and basically has nothing to say but good things about her. She could be the one. He sees the light in her. This time in the relationship appears to be taking place around Christmas time too, hence the references to snow, stepping into the ‘white’ and the obviously clue, the mention of a Christmas tree. I’ve always liked the general tone of the music in this too. I’ve always envisioned a busy city centre at nighttime with all these bright lights everywhere when I hear this song, which I think the song is going for. It all comes from the lyrics, brings about a lot of vivid imagery.

The music video in itself is very endearing too. It’s an animated one. Quite dated in today’s world. It looked quite dated back in 2007 too. But there’s no denying it’s a bit of fun to watch. It features an animated version of the band, sitting on the ledge of a giant building in Glasgow, staring at the moon and lip-syncing to the song. With each verse, they get up to slightly different antics, from bobbing to the music in the first verse to singer Jackie McKeown jumping onto the drummer’s heard during the last one. It’s all pretty simple stuff, but has a lot of charm. I never really followed up with 1990s after this, though. I do know that you can find this song the album Cookies, and they released another record a couple years after. If you happen to like both of them, I’m glad I could be of service.

#1158: The Pigeon Detectives – Say It Like You Mean It

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Well, the last Pigeon Detectives song I wrote about on here was ‘Everybody Wants Me’, just over ten years ago. In that post I mentioned how I didn’t know whether the band were still together. It’s a sentiment I still have today. They are, according to Wikipedia, and even released an album last year. I’m not sure if anyone, apart from their fans, are wondering what the band are up to these days. But there was a time in those mid/late-2000s where they were sort of the talk of the town. The band’s 2007 debut album Wait for Me was a wildly popular one in the UK, and almost a year to the day of its release came the second album Emergency. It did just all right in comparison. But that’s where you’ll find ‘Everybody Wants Me’ and today’s song, ‘Say It Like You Mean It’.

I only really know this song because it was released as the third and final single from Emergency, and its music video got the obligatory play on MTV2 during the mornings or whatever. But that’s not to say I only came to like it through some sort of Stockholm syndrome situation. When it came to their singles, The Pigeon Detectives usually delivered the goods. Handy with a melody, bursting with energy. They were always fine ones to sing along to. It’s very much the same with ‘Say It Like You Mean It’. I read a comment the other day that said it was their most Strokes-ish song. I couldn’t believe that I hadn’t thought of it like that before, because it certainly is, particularly when it comes to the interplay between the rhythm guitar and the lead.

The subject matter isn’t one that I’ve ever heard thought to think to deeply about. The lyrics seem to consist of clichés and typical thoughts ‘n’ feelings that you would find in a song about your standard relationship. And if you like the first minute and 10 seconds of the song, then you’ll certainly like the rest that follows because the verses and refrains never change. But it’s done well. I could never say it’s a bad song. It’s just a shame that it’s the last one by the band that I properly cared about because, after Emergency, the whole UK indie scene kind of died out and everyone, including myself, just moved on to different things. They had us for a while, though. They were all right times.

#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.

#966: David Bowie – Oh! You Pretty Things

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It was a sad day when David Bowie died. I remember it well. If you’re into hearing about that experience, I covered it in my post about ‘Life on Mars?’ some time ago. The story’s all there. His passing was something that came out of nowhere, and something of a trigger that set off the strange year that 2016 turned out to be. Bowie was gone, but the music remained, and the most logical thing to do was listen to his music just to feel good and listen to his voice. I most certainly did that. The Hunky Dory album had been in there ever since I got my laptop in 2013. However, ‘Changes’ and ‘Mars’ up to 2016 had been my favorites from that record, and I was sure that wasn’t going to change anytime soon. But Bowie died, and then I came across a 1972 live performance of Bowie singing ‘Oh! You Pretty Things’ on the BBC. It was watching that that made it properly set in that the man was gone. Also made me appreciate the song a lot more than I did before.

Well, I think the main thing to take note of is Bowie’s vocals throughout. The track is about a master race of some kind taking over the world, based on the ideals of Nietzche and Aleister Crowley. Quite dark origins. But Bowie turns it into something positive and relatable by basing the lyrics on the kids – the pretty things – of the ’70s who were into these strange new things that parents just weren’t able to understand. And Bowie sings about all of this right from the heart with the most sincerity. That delivery ‘put another log on the fire for me’ in the first verse, that hits the sweet spot. If the whole track had been just Bowie and the piano, I wouldn’t even mind, but it’s a very cathartic moment when the rest of the band enter on the first beat of the chorus. That sense of tension is all released in that burst of energy. And still, Bowie continues to blow the track away with his vocal. Joined along with Mick Ronson on the backing vocals, the chorus is the greatest opportunity for a singalong if ever there was one.

I don’t know what else to tell you, readers. Between the quieter contemplative verses with Bowie and the piano and the rousing choruses where the rest of the band joins in, I can’t find much fault with this song. Makes me wonder why it had to take Bowie’s passing to make me listen to it again. It was right there that whole time. But it’s nothing to work myself up about, I know. Same thing applies to a lot of people in that situation. I do wish I knew how to play the piano though. If I learned it enough, I could wow people by playing the intro/outro to this track. Not a lot of people did it better than Bowie though. What a wonder he was.

#940: John Lennon – Nobody Loves You (When You’re Down and Out)

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In 1974, an advertisement was made to promote the release of John Lennon’s forthcoming album, Walls and Bridges. His former bandmate but good friend Ringo Starr provided the voiceover, and two of Lennon’s new tracks were previewed. One being ‘Whatever Gets You thru the Night’, his first number one in the US, and today’s song, ‘Nobody Loves You (When You’re Down and Out)’. Decades later, I came across the latter through seeing the advert on YouTube, and that small clip left me wanting to hear the whole thing. So, I guess that commercial fulfilled its job.

‘Nobody Loves You’ encapsulates Lennon’s feelings and cynical takes he had garnered during his “Lost Weekend” period, a time when he was separated from Yoko Ono and spending his days drinking and getting high with his buddies in Los Angeles. He was ultimately depressed and lonely, but also let down by the critical and public reception of his then-latest music. He had given the world hope with the Beatles. He’d been at the forefront spreading the message of peace and love. He’d laid his soul bare countless times in previous albums. But the indifference in return at the time left he feeling cheated and disillusioned with the music industry. Probably why he decided to retire for a bit not so long after.

Lennon said that the track was one that Frank Sinatra could have sung. Listening to it, you can kind of see why. The tense strings and the smoky-nightclub-esque horn section provide the music this grand cinematic feel, and its crawling tempo lend a feel that the best of those iconic crooners could belt out a note to. Though funnily in a way, Lennon doesn’t go the ‘My Way’ route and instead sings the lyrics in a hushed and rather casual manner. The restraint makes it all the more harder when, after a sweet slide-guitar solo, the music rises with tempo and urgency and Lennon lets everything out on the “Well, I get up in the morning” section. That doesn’t last too long though. The music returns to that of the verses, and after the now quite chilling line “Everybody loves you when you’re six foot in the ground”, Lennon sends us off with some happy-go-lucky whistling. To think, had he not come back with a new record in 1980, this could have been his last original song on an album. It’s not a song to feel happy to when you’re listening, but it’s certainly relatable. Not in the way that we could see it from Lennon’s point of view as an almighty mega-rich superstar. But it ultimately distils a sense of loneliness and cynicism that all of us feel from time to time.