There they were, standing right in front of me. Four guys who seemed to be the best of mates, arms around each other for the majority of the night. In another set of circumstances, in another place, at another time -- this might seem like an odd display of affection between four twenty-something young males. But at the Oasis concert on Friday night, it seemed very appropriate.
Oasis are one of the few bands I can think of who can have this sort of effect on people. And even though it was the third time I have seen Oasis live, I couldn't help but feel that this night would be something I would one day be able to tell my grandchildren about. And I imagine that they would be just as envious of me as I am of those who got to see The Beatles in their prime (assuming, that is, that they inherit my taste in music).
Deciding to cleverly skip over the low-points of their catalogue (3rd and 4th albums Be here now and Standing on the shoulder of giants respectively), Oasis played the majority of their excellent new album Don't believe the truth and filled the rest of the set with vintage Oasis.
Set highlights included their classics Don't look back in anger and Champagne supernova, as well as more recent classics like Songbird and The importance of being idle. Watching the fans sing along to almost every word of the early Oasis songs was something that needed to be experienced -- there were no doubts that these are classic songs and that they will continue to be rediscovered, cherished and loved by future generations.
A pleasant surprise for me was hearing Talk tonight, a superb Noel sung B-side from The masterplan. Some notable omissions were Roll with it, Supersonic and Some might say. I'm still hanging out to hear my favourite Oasis song Half the world away at a gig, but I'm not holding my breath.
Unlike other huge bands of our era, Oasis are completely unpretentious. While Radiohead refuse to play their early hit Creep (as they have now "moved on"), Oasis clearly embrace their past and understand the power of a great song. While lack of reinvention can be the downfall of a band (*cough*Coldplay*cough*), Oasis are such amazing songwriters that even overplayed songs like Wonderwall continue to strike an emotional chord more than a decade later.
Their decision to close their set with a fantastic cover of the classic Who anthem My generation was entirely appropriate for a band who has defined the music of their generation. Oasis are truly masters of their domain.
Monday, 5 December 2005
Thursday, 1 December 2005
iPod random mixtape #001
There are currently 11,538 songs in my iPod. A metric shitload. The ultra-cool Shuffle Songs feature allows me to shuffle my entire collection to see what comes up. Every now and then (usually as it's nearing the end of the workday) I can't decide what album to pick next. So I let the massive random jukebox decide for me.
It's a great feature because songs come out of the mix that I haven't heard for a long time, and sometimes hearing them out of context of the album they are on makes me appreciate them more. A good example of this is Trout mask replica which is incredibly difficult to listen to as a whole album, but hearing a single song from it is easily digestable.
I had this idea a while back that I'd have a regular feature where I'd put the iPod into shuffle and then write a quick blog posting on the first 10 songs that come up. It really comes down to laziness on my part, sometimes I can't think about what to write and this just makes it easier for me. I'm fairly sure this isn't an original idea as I'm sure many other bloggers have done a similar thing.
Anyway, here we go:
1) Hey, Snow White - Destroyer
Interesting first selection. I don't actually know this song that well, because it's a relatively recent purchase and I've found it a very difficult listen mainly due to Dan Bejar's unique vocals and the length of the album.
Well, at almost 8 minutes in length it is certainly in the "epic" category. There's some interesting guitar work here, the lyrics are fairly repetitive. And the vocals do grate.
Actually, I have a confession to make. The album that this song is from (This night) is on the shortlist of albums that I am considering selling on eBay. It needs a few more listens before I make the final decision to grant it clemency.
And when I did a google for some of the lyrics from this song to quote them in this post, I actually typed "Hey Snow Shite" instead of "Hey Snow White". Call it a Freudian slip, if you like.
2) Apart - The Cure
Well, this is certainly turning into an epic mixtape as far as song lengths go. But this is more like it. While not one of my favourite songs from their excellent Wish album, there's no denying that this is vintage Cure. Moody and atmospheric music. A depressing Robert Smith vocal (double tracked in parts for extra effect). The usual dark lyrics you'd expect from anything in the Cure canon. A great overall vibe. I guess it's unfair to call this one of the lesser tracks from Wish, but that has nothing to do with the quality of this song -- more to do with the exceptional quality of some of the other songs.
3) Footstomp - Dan Brodie
A yeee-ha instrumental on his yeee-ha Empty arms broken hearts album which I purchased recently for five quid. Gets the toes-a-tappin' and the knees-a-slappin'.
4) It's gonna take an airplane - Destroyer
What's with this then? 2 Destroyer sings in the space of 3 randomly selected songs? Another song which is hard to comment on, but it is from their 2004 album Your blues which I must say I find more listenable than This night (it's not as long, and the tunes seem to be more melodic).
If you're reading this and wondering who the hell Destroyer are and why I have 2 of their albums in my collection, they are a side-project of Dan Bejar from Canadian supergroup The New Pornographers. His voice is definitely an acquired taste, the best comparison I can think of is Phil Judd from Split Enz.
Actually I'm getting near the end of this song, and it's a pretty cool cut actually. Surreal lyrics, an interesting vocal and some pretty awesome backing vocals as well.
5) Fall at your feet - Crowded House
Crowded House have an incredible hit rate, you could pick almost any song from their catalogue and be impressed.
This superb song should be known by anyone with good taste in music, and it's one of the highlights of their album-of-highlights that is Woodface, which also happened to be their most commercially successful album.
A brilliantly romantic lyric, melody to die for and chorus that is made for waving lighters in the air -- all the elements are in place in this classic slice of Oz-Kiwi pop.
6) The riddle of the Dead Sea Scrolls - D Generation
Here's the problem with the shuffle feature. Maybe I should have eliminated the Books and Spoken Word genre from the mix. I was very tempted to skip over this "song" and pretend it "never happened", but that would be dishonest now wouldn't it?
For those who don't know (or aren't from Australia), the D-Generation are some of the finest comedians Australia has seen in the past few decades. They had a brilliant show on ABC called the Late Show which aired on Saturday nights in the early-mid nineties'. They have been associated with other great TV shows like Frontline, as well as movies like The Castle.
Anyway, this is from a CD I have of their radio show from late 80's and early 90's, before they were TV stars. It's little snippets of their radio show, which was unfortunately very topical and therefore a bit hard to appreciate now as they are talking about things that happened over 10 years ago. An example is them interviewing Bob Hawke (or at least an imitation of him) who was the Australian PM at the time.
Still, you gotta appreciate the phone calls from Wayne from St Albans.
7) Come again - Dallas Crane
Ahhh...such a relief to hear some music after the 13 minutes of talking that was the last track.
This is a corker, one of the highlights from Dallas Crane's solid album Twenty four seven. A classic slice of Aussie rock, with a chorus that sounds like it has been genetically engineered for singing along in a pub with a pint in your hand, swaying from side to side.
Jet get international kudos for their highly derivative Get born album, while Dallas Crane are stuck being support acts for other bands who are more commercial successful. There isn't any justice in this world.
8) Let it be - The Beatles
The very poignant title cut from their swansong, everyone who has ever heard music knows this song. If you haven't, you have been living under a rock. Before I was a Beatles fan, I actually thought this was a mid-period Beatles song. I remember being very surprised when I found out this was from their last album.
A great Paul McCartney vocal, a classic George Harrison guitar solo, timeless lyrics and sentiment. The band may have been falling apart at the time, but when listening to this song they still sound like the greatest band of all time.
And if I close my eyes, I can picture Paul McCartney singing it, with that cool late 60's beard he was sporting at the time.
9) Sing - Blur
From classic British pop to early Britpop. This song was actually on the Trainspotting soundtrack, many may know it from there. But the copy that came up on the random mixtape was actually from Blur's debut album Leisure.
Leisure is a pretty poor album overall, but this is clearly one of the highlights. This is more psychedelic Blur, they weren't quite at the cockney stage of their Modern life is rubbish or Parklife albums, and they were galaxies away from their more experimental Blur and 13 sound.
Hard to really understand any lyrics from this song. But the chorus is really all you need. Ahh ahh ahh ahh! It's inclusion on the Trainspotting soundtrack does seem appropriate.
10) Song of our so-called friend - Okkervil River
Another newie for me, this is from Okkervil River's 2005 album Black sheep boy. Yes, I hadn't heard of them either about 3 months ago. But I read quite a few reviews of the album (many proclaiming it to be one of the best albums of 2005) and went out and bought it.
If I had to pigeon-hole this song I'd probably call it alt-country. I guess the singer is comparable to Bonnie "Prince" Billy, a little bit off-key in parts but it works well for the music.
Pretty catchy song. But I do need to get to know the album better.
It's a great feature because songs come out of the mix that I haven't heard for a long time, and sometimes hearing them out of context of the album they are on makes me appreciate them more. A good example of this is Trout mask replica which is incredibly difficult to listen to as a whole album, but hearing a single song from it is easily digestable.
I had this idea a while back that I'd have a regular feature where I'd put the iPod into shuffle and then write a quick blog posting on the first 10 songs that come up. It really comes down to laziness on my part, sometimes I can't think about what to write and this just makes it easier for me. I'm fairly sure this isn't an original idea as I'm sure many other bloggers have done a similar thing.
Anyway, here we go:
1) Hey, Snow White - Destroyer
Interesting first selection. I don't actually know this song that well, because it's a relatively recent purchase and I've found it a very difficult listen mainly due to Dan Bejar's unique vocals and the length of the album.
Well, at almost 8 minutes in length it is certainly in the "epic" category. There's some interesting guitar work here, the lyrics are fairly repetitive. And the vocals do grate.
Actually, I have a confession to make. The album that this song is from (This night) is on the shortlist of albums that I am considering selling on eBay. It needs a few more listens before I make the final decision to grant it clemency.
And when I did a google for some of the lyrics from this song to quote them in this post, I actually typed "Hey Snow Shite" instead of "Hey Snow White". Call it a Freudian slip, if you like.
2) Apart - The Cure
Well, this is certainly turning into an epic mixtape as far as song lengths go. But this is more like it. While not one of my favourite songs from their excellent Wish album, there's no denying that this is vintage Cure. Moody and atmospheric music. A depressing Robert Smith vocal (double tracked in parts for extra effect). The usual dark lyrics you'd expect from anything in the Cure canon. A great overall vibe. I guess it's unfair to call this one of the lesser tracks from Wish, but that has nothing to do with the quality of this song -- more to do with the exceptional quality of some of the other songs.
3) Footstomp - Dan Brodie
A yeee-ha instrumental on his yeee-ha Empty arms broken hearts album which I purchased recently for five quid. Gets the toes-a-tappin' and the knees-a-slappin'.
4) It's gonna take an airplane - Destroyer
What's with this then? 2 Destroyer sings in the space of 3 randomly selected songs? Another song which is hard to comment on, but it is from their 2004 album Your blues which I must say I find more listenable than This night (it's not as long, and the tunes seem to be more melodic).
If you're reading this and wondering who the hell Destroyer are and why I have 2 of their albums in my collection, they are a side-project of Dan Bejar from Canadian supergroup The New Pornographers. His voice is definitely an acquired taste, the best comparison I can think of is Phil Judd from Split Enz.
Actually I'm getting near the end of this song, and it's a pretty cool cut actually. Surreal lyrics, an interesting vocal and some pretty awesome backing vocals as well.
5) Fall at your feet - Crowded House
Crowded House have an incredible hit rate, you could pick almost any song from their catalogue and be impressed.
This superb song should be known by anyone with good taste in music, and it's one of the highlights of their album-of-highlights that is Woodface, which also happened to be their most commercially successful album.
A brilliantly romantic lyric, melody to die for and chorus that is made for waving lighters in the air -- all the elements are in place in this classic slice of Oz-Kiwi pop.
6) The riddle of the Dead Sea Scrolls - D Generation
Here's the problem with the shuffle feature. Maybe I should have eliminated the Books and Spoken Word genre from the mix. I was very tempted to skip over this "song" and pretend it "never happened", but that would be dishonest now wouldn't it?
For those who don't know (or aren't from Australia), the D-Generation are some of the finest comedians Australia has seen in the past few decades. They had a brilliant show on ABC called the Late Show which aired on Saturday nights in the early-mid nineties'. They have been associated with other great TV shows like Frontline, as well as movies like The Castle.
Anyway, this is from a CD I have of their radio show from late 80's and early 90's, before they were TV stars. It's little snippets of their radio show, which was unfortunately very topical and therefore a bit hard to appreciate now as they are talking about things that happened over 10 years ago. An example is them interviewing Bob Hawke (or at least an imitation of him) who was the Australian PM at the time.
Still, you gotta appreciate the phone calls from Wayne from St Albans.
7) Come again - Dallas Crane
Ahhh...such a relief to hear some music after the 13 minutes of talking that was the last track.
This is a corker, one of the highlights from Dallas Crane's solid album Twenty four seven. A classic slice of Aussie rock, with a chorus that sounds like it has been genetically engineered for singing along in a pub with a pint in your hand, swaying from side to side.
Jet get international kudos for their highly derivative Get born album, while Dallas Crane are stuck being support acts for other bands who are more commercial successful. There isn't any justice in this world.
8) Let it be - The Beatles
The very poignant title cut from their swansong, everyone who has ever heard music knows this song. If you haven't, you have been living under a rock. Before I was a Beatles fan, I actually thought this was a mid-period Beatles song. I remember being very surprised when I found out this was from their last album.
A great Paul McCartney vocal, a classic George Harrison guitar solo, timeless lyrics and sentiment. The band may have been falling apart at the time, but when listening to this song they still sound like the greatest band of all time.
And if I close my eyes, I can picture Paul McCartney singing it, with that cool late 60's beard he was sporting at the time.
9) Sing - Blur
From classic British pop to early Britpop. This song was actually on the Trainspotting soundtrack, many may know it from there. But the copy that came up on the random mixtape was actually from Blur's debut album Leisure.
Leisure is a pretty poor album overall, but this is clearly one of the highlights. This is more psychedelic Blur, they weren't quite at the cockney stage of their Modern life is rubbish or Parklife albums, and they were galaxies away from their more experimental Blur and 13 sound.
Hard to really understand any lyrics from this song. But the chorus is really all you need. Ahh ahh ahh ahh! It's inclusion on the Trainspotting soundtrack does seem appropriate.
10) Song of our so-called friend - Okkervil River
Another newie for me, this is from Okkervil River's 2005 album Black sheep boy. Yes, I hadn't heard of them either about 3 months ago. But I read quite a few reviews of the album (many proclaiming it to be one of the best albums of 2005) and went out and bought it.
If I had to pigeon-hole this song I'd probably call it alt-country. I guess the singer is comparable to Bonnie "Prince" Billy, a little bit off-key in parts but it works well for the music.
Pretty catchy song. But I do need to get to know the album better.
Monday, 28 November 2005
When size does matter
Albums, like lots of other things, come in all sizes.
There's mini albums like Pink moon or Nashville skyline, which may disappoint someone who has invested good money in them. While I'm an advocate of quality over quantity, I still feel a little bit ripped off when the little LCD on my CD player shows a time less than 30 minutes.
Then there's the epics like Sunset studies and Urban hymns, albums which truly take effort to listen to. I find that when I'm considering playing an album like this, I ask myself some questions:
How have they done this? Through a survey of course. Who did they survey? Music fans of course. Why have they done this? Because they can. Why am I writing about this? Because I can. And I also haven't posted for a while, and I'd like to keep this blog active.
Well here are their findings.
The optimal album length is 45 minutes. The optimal number of tracks is 12.
Here's their justification behind these figures:
If anyone disagrees with ARMAC's survey results, speak now or forever hold your peace.
*Obviously this is making a bad assumption that TV ads are not entertaining, and this is simply not true in many cases. TV ads are often entertaining, but for all the wrong reasons. "As a mother I feel it's my job to give my kids Nutella for breakfast." Need I say more?
There's mini albums like Pink moon or Nashville skyline, which may disappoint someone who has invested good money in them. While I'm an advocate of quality over quantity, I still feel a little bit ripped off when the little LCD on my CD player shows a time less than 30 minutes.
Then there's the epics like Sunset studies and Urban hymns, albums which truly take effort to listen to. I find that when I'm considering playing an album like this, I ask myself some questions:
- Do I have time to listen to this album?
- Will I be able to listen to it uninterrupted?
- Can I do it justice in this sitting?
How have they done this? Through a survey of course. Who did they survey? Music fans of course. Why have they done this? Because they can. Why am I writing about this? Because I can. And I also haven't posted for a while, and I'd like to keep this blog active.
Well here are their findings.
The optimal album length is 45 minutes. The optimal number of tracks is 12.
Here's their justification behind these figures:
- Most humans are able to digest one hour television shows quite well. Subtract the advertisements from a one hour television show, and you have yourself about 45 minutes of actual entertainment*. Music is another form of entertainment, and it should be in the same digestable "portion size" as television.
- For the mathematicians among us, this gives an average track length of 3 minutes and 45 seconds. Here's some brilliant 3:45 tracks, in no particular order:
- Blueline Medic - At least we had the war
- Big Star - Watch the sunrise
- Elvis Costello - Watching the detectives
- The Pogues - Dirty old town
- Nick Drake - Northern sky
- George Harrison - All things must pass
- John Lennon - How?
- Manic Street Preachers - Democracy coma
- 12 track albums give us a chance for the vinyl fans amongst us to divide a CD into virtual "sides" of 6 tracks each. So you get 2 opening tracks and 2 closing tracks. How cool is that? [As a side note, Belle & Sebastian actually put a gap in the middle of their albums to simulate the act of "flipping over the record"]
- 45 minutes used to be about the time it took me to get to work when I lived at my folks' house, which meant I could listen to an album fully before I got to work. It was a great feeling arriving at work just as an album finished. Now it only takes me about 15 minutes to get to work, so I need to stick with EPs if I want to get this same feeling.
- At the time of writing, 49 albums from my collection of 877 are 5-star albums. 14 of these 49 albums have 12 tracks, clearly the statistical mode in my set of 5-star albums. Of these 14 albums, 10 of them are +/- 10 minutes from the 45:00 length. I think these albums speak for themselves:
- The La's - The La's [35:10]
- Elvis Costello - This Year's Model [35:34]
- Elliott Smith - Either/Or [36:53]
- Queen - A Night At The Opera [43:17]
- R.E.M. - Murmur [44:05]
- Manic Street Preachers - Everything Must Go [45:18]
- Kate Bush - Hounds Of Love [47:27]
- Radiohead - The Bends [48:31]
- Oasis - (What's The Story) Morning Glory? [49:58]
- Pulp - Different Class [51:57]
- Radiohead - OK Computer [53:21]
If anyone disagrees with ARMAC's survey results, speak now or forever hold your peace.
*Obviously this is making a bad assumption that TV ads are not entertaining, and this is simply not true in many cases. TV ads are often entertaining, but for all the wrong reasons. "As a mother I feel it's my job to give my kids Nutella for breakfast." Need I say more?
Tuesday, 15 November 2005
Benefit of using an iPod #001
Appreciating singles again.
Before I got an iPod, a single would never get any space in my CD case. Who wants to waste a precious space in a 32-disc case for a CD that only lasts 10 minutes? I actually sold many of my singles on eBay for this very reason (although I kept a few really choice ones, like Paranoid android which has some cool B-sides).
Before the days of the iPod, one had to hope that the artist would release a great B-sides and rarities compilation so you could justify keeping the CD in your case. Many bands including Oasis, Suede and Belle & Sebastian have done this. But it doesn't happen as often as it should.
On an iPod, a B-side can take pride of place on a playlist. Singles can be listened to as they were intended to be listened to. No more discrimination against the little guy.
Come back to me you neglect-o-rino singles!
Before I got an iPod, a single would never get any space in my CD case. Who wants to waste a precious space in a 32-disc case for a CD that only lasts 10 minutes? I actually sold many of my singles on eBay for this very reason (although I kept a few really choice ones, like Paranoid android which has some cool B-sides).
Before the days of the iPod, one had to hope that the artist would release a great B-sides and rarities compilation so you could justify keeping the CD in your case. Many bands including Oasis, Suede and Belle & Sebastian have done this. But it doesn't happen as often as it should.
On an iPod, a B-side can take pride of place on a playlist. Singles can be listened to as they were intended to be listened to. No more discrimination against the little guy.
Come back to me you neglect-o-rino singles!
Tuesday, 8 November 2005
Top 10 songs not sung by the regular lead singer
In my description of this blog, I say the following:
Generally this blog will contain ramblings about music, with an emphasis on music lists of all sorts.
Ever since my many "top 10 years for music" posts, there haven't been many lists. So I figured it was time to pull the thumb out and churn a list out. I have many more ideas for lists, and these will all come in due course.
I would feel wrong to start this whole list concept without giving credit to Stylus Magazine, which is one of my favourite musical websites. They have a weekly feature called Staff Top 10, and this is what has inspired me to do a similar thing. As far as I know, all the lists I am going to include have not been included on Stylus Magazine. So just to make it clear, it's the concept of the top 10 which I'm "borrowing", not the actual lists.
We'll kick off this new (hopefully regular) feature with a list of songs by bands, in which the regular lead singer of the band is not the singer of the song. But I hear you say - "that's easy, just pick any George Harrison lead vocal from the Beatles catalogue". Not that easy. To qualify for this list, it has to be sung by a member of the band who is not known for singing. Unfortunately, the late Mr Harrison (or even Ringo Starr for that matter) have sung enough songs for the Beatles to make them semi-regular vocalists. So it really has to be a rare vocal appearance to make this list.
Before commencing with the list, I'd like to say that Nicky Wire of Manic Street Preachers need never get behind the mike again. His vocal performance on Wattsville blues (from their Know your enemy album) almost ruins that album for me. Stick with what you are good at, Nicky. Cross-dressing.
Shall we begin?
10. Italian Plastic - Crowded House (lead vocals: Paul Hester)
Late drummer Paul Hester took lead vocals on this fun Woodface cut. While some of Hester's songs (such as My telly's gone bung) should have been left on the cutting room floor, this song comes as a welcome bit of fun on the second half of the album. This song definitely has its haters, but I've always been a fan of it. It's also a very romantic song lyrically:
When you wake up with me
I'll be your glass of water
When you stick up for me
Then you're my Bella Bambina
Rest in peace, Mr Hester.
9. Coffee and TV - Blur (lead vocals: Graham Coxon)
This song is such a recognisable Blur tune that many probably don't realise that it isn't Damon Albarn on lead vocals, but lead guitarist Graham Coxon. I didn't realise myself until someone pointed it out to me. This song is a real red herring on their experimental 13 album, being the song which looked into the past on an album which predominantly looked into the future.
8. I'm a Man You Don't Meet Every Day - The Pogues (lead vocals: Cait O'Riordan)
Adding a nice twist of irony to this traditional song, female band member Cait O'Riordan (formerly Mrs Elvis Costello) sings this song about being a man that you don't meet every day. You can't help but smirk hearing her sing these lyrics, on their excellent Rum, sodomy & the lash album:
Oh my name is Jock Stewart
I’m a canny gun man
And a roving young fellow I’ve been
So be easy and free
When you’re drinking with me
I’m a man you don’t meet every day
As with almost any Pogues song, this is a great drinking song!
7. Cups and Cakes - Spinal Tap (lead vocals: Nigel Tufnel)
While Nigel is traditionally known for his brilliant (self-confessed) solos and his classical piano trilogy in D-Minor (including the superb piece Lick my love pump), you have to give him kudos for his brilliant lead on this old Spinal Tap song. On the surface it seems like a fairly shallow song about enjoying afternoon tea with a friend in the English countryside, but look deeper and you'll see deeper political statements:
Cups and cakes
Cups and cakes
I'm so full my tummy aches
How sad it must end
But I'm glad I've a friend
Sharing cups and cakes with me
And cakes with me...
Ahhh Spinal Tap, where are they now?
6. I'm Not Like Everybody Else - The Kinks (lead vocals: Dave Davies)
A great unknown Kinks song, this is a deeply personal song sung by Ray's younger brother Dave Davies. One of my favourite songs in their catalogue, this one makes me wish that he'd sung more of their stuff.
I won’t take all that they hand me down,
And make out a smile, though I wear a frown,
And I won’t take it all lying down,
’cause once I get started I go to town.
’cause I’m not like everybody else,
I’m not like everybody else,
I’m not like everybody else,
I’m not like everybody else.
5. I'm In Love With My Car - Queen (lead vocals: Roger Taylor)
While he's no Freddie Mercury vocally (but who is?), drummer Roger Taylor injected a dose of humour into their classic A night at the opera album. While many have written love songs about cars (Bruce Springsteen has based his whole career on this idea), nobody has written a song with so many classic double entendres as this one:
With the pistons a pumpin’
And the hub caps all gleam
...
When I’m holdin’ your wheel
All I hear is your gear
When my hand’s on your grease gun
Oh it’s like a disease son
...
Get a grip on my boy racer rollbar
Such a thrill when your radials squeal
...
Told my girl I’ll have to forget her
Rather buy me a new carburettor
One of the best songs on this classic album, and a great singalong.
4. Texarkarna - R.E.M. (lead vocals: Mike Mills)
This song has a great jangly guitar riff and a fantastic melody. Sounds like typical early period R.E.M., does it not? Except that you wouldn't even think this was an R.E.M. song after you've heard it, because it doesn't have Michael Stipe on vocals. It really makes you realise how integral Mr Stipe's vocals are to the R.E.M. sound.
This is definitely in my top 5 R.E.M. songs. Was this a single? If not, it should have been. I guess what makes this so good is that nobody except R.E.M. fans really know it. It's tucked away near the end of their Out of time album. It hasn't been overplayed like a lot of their other songs. In fact, it hasn't really been played at all as far as I know.
I'm listening to it on my new iPod now. This song makes me smile. Choice cut :-)
3. With A Little Help From My Friends - Sgt. Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band (lead vocals: Billy Shears)
Ahh, good old Billy Shears. Lots of people bag his vocals, but this is one of his most passionate performances. If you've only heard the Joe Cocker version of song, you need to hear the original.
Great vocals and a fantastic bassline. The 'Peppers only released one album in their brief lifetime, but what an album it was. And it's songs like this which make it so amazing.
2. You're So Great - Blur (lead vocals: Graham Coxon)
Yes, this is the 2nd Blur song to make this list. What can I say, I just love "lost classics". Songs tucked away on albums that nobody really knows about. Everybody knows Song 2 from Blur's self-titled album. It has been overplayed almost as much as Alanis Morrisette's Ironic. But nobody really knows this song. And that's what makes it so bloody good.
I could quote the lyrics from this song, but without the music to put it into perspective, it would come across as overly sentimental schmaltz. So I won't. This song sounds like a lost White Album cut. It's amazing. I wish Graham Coxon had sung more songs before he left the band.
1. The Guns of Brixton - The Clash (lead vocals: Paul Simonon)
I have stated the virtues of London Calling in a previous post, so I won't do it again. Instead I will talk about this song, because it's a great one. Joe Strummer and Mick Jones wrote some fantastic songs for The Clash, but I'm pretty sure neither of them wrote a song as good as this one by bassist Paul Simonon. Not to be confused with Paul Simon, of Simon & Garfunkel and Graceland fame.
A sublime bassline and reggae beat holds this song together and odd sound effects add sparks of interest here and there. But it's Paul's vocal performance and the menacing political lyrics which elevate this song to the top of this list.
Situated perfectly at the end of Side-B on the original double vinyl (that's the 2nd side of the first record), the effect of this song relative to the album it lost a little bit on CD*. It just doesn't sound as menacing when it is following by the upbeat ska of Wrong 'em boyo.
* Before you start telling me to act my age, and stop acting all wanky about the old days (strange considering I was born in the same year that London Calling was released) - I will admit that I did hear this album on CD before I heard it on vinyl. But I own the vinyl now, so I am allowed to say that ;-)
Generally this blog will contain ramblings about music, with an emphasis on music lists of all sorts.
Ever since my many "top 10 years for music" posts, there haven't been many lists. So I figured it was time to pull the thumb out and churn a list out. I have many more ideas for lists, and these will all come in due course.
I would feel wrong to start this whole list concept without giving credit to Stylus Magazine, which is one of my favourite musical websites. They have a weekly feature called Staff Top 10, and this is what has inspired me to do a similar thing. As far as I know, all the lists I am going to include have not been included on Stylus Magazine. So just to make it clear, it's the concept of the top 10 which I'm "borrowing", not the actual lists.
We'll kick off this new (hopefully regular) feature with a list of songs by bands, in which the regular lead singer of the band is not the singer of the song. But I hear you say - "that's easy, just pick any George Harrison lead vocal from the Beatles catalogue". Not that easy. To qualify for this list, it has to be sung by a member of the band who is not known for singing. Unfortunately, the late Mr Harrison (or even Ringo Starr for that matter) have sung enough songs for the Beatles to make them semi-regular vocalists. So it really has to be a rare vocal appearance to make this list.
Before commencing with the list, I'd like to say that Nicky Wire of Manic Street Preachers need never get behind the mike again. His vocal performance on Wattsville blues (from their Know your enemy album) almost ruins that album for me. Stick with what you are good at, Nicky. Cross-dressing.
Shall we begin?
10. Italian Plastic - Crowded House (lead vocals: Paul Hester)
Late drummer Paul Hester took lead vocals on this fun Woodface cut. While some of Hester's songs (such as My telly's gone bung) should have been left on the cutting room floor, this song comes as a welcome bit of fun on the second half of the album. This song definitely has its haters, but I've always been a fan of it. It's also a very romantic song lyrically:
When you wake up with me
I'll be your glass of water
When you stick up for me
Then you're my Bella Bambina
Rest in peace, Mr Hester.
9. Coffee and TV - Blur (lead vocals: Graham Coxon)
This song is such a recognisable Blur tune that many probably don't realise that it isn't Damon Albarn on lead vocals, but lead guitarist Graham Coxon. I didn't realise myself until someone pointed it out to me. This song is a real red herring on their experimental 13 album, being the song which looked into the past on an album which predominantly looked into the future.
8. I'm a Man You Don't Meet Every Day - The Pogues (lead vocals: Cait O'Riordan)
Adding a nice twist of irony to this traditional song, female band member Cait O'Riordan (formerly Mrs Elvis Costello) sings this song about being a man that you don't meet every day. You can't help but smirk hearing her sing these lyrics, on their excellent Rum, sodomy & the lash album:
Oh my name is Jock Stewart
I’m a canny gun man
And a roving young fellow I’ve been
So be easy and free
When you’re drinking with me
I’m a man you don’t meet every day
As with almost any Pogues song, this is a great drinking song!
7. Cups and Cakes - Spinal Tap (lead vocals: Nigel Tufnel)
While Nigel is traditionally known for his brilliant (self-confessed) solos and his classical piano trilogy in D-Minor (including the superb piece Lick my love pump), you have to give him kudos for his brilliant lead on this old Spinal Tap song. On the surface it seems like a fairly shallow song about enjoying afternoon tea with a friend in the English countryside, but look deeper and you'll see deeper political statements:
Cups and cakes
Cups and cakes
I'm so full my tummy aches
How sad it must end
But I'm glad I've a friend
Sharing cups and cakes with me
And cakes with me...
Ahhh Spinal Tap, where are they now?
6. I'm Not Like Everybody Else - The Kinks (lead vocals: Dave Davies)
A great unknown Kinks song, this is a deeply personal song sung by Ray's younger brother Dave Davies. One of my favourite songs in their catalogue, this one makes me wish that he'd sung more of their stuff.
I won’t take all that they hand me down,
And make out a smile, though I wear a frown,
And I won’t take it all lying down,
’cause once I get started I go to town.
’cause I’m not like everybody else,
I’m not like everybody else,
I’m not like everybody else,
I’m not like everybody else.
5. I'm In Love With My Car - Queen (lead vocals: Roger Taylor)
While he's no Freddie Mercury vocally (but who is?), drummer Roger Taylor injected a dose of humour into their classic A night at the opera album. While many have written love songs about cars (Bruce Springsteen has based his whole career on this idea), nobody has written a song with so many classic double entendres as this one:
With the pistons a pumpin’
And the hub caps all gleam
...
When I’m holdin’ your wheel
All I hear is your gear
When my hand’s on your grease gun
Oh it’s like a disease son
...
Get a grip on my boy racer rollbar
Such a thrill when your radials squeal
...
Told my girl I’ll have to forget her
Rather buy me a new carburettor
One of the best songs on this classic album, and a great singalong.
4. Texarkarna - R.E.M. (lead vocals: Mike Mills)
This song has a great jangly guitar riff and a fantastic melody. Sounds like typical early period R.E.M., does it not? Except that you wouldn't even think this was an R.E.M. song after you've heard it, because it doesn't have Michael Stipe on vocals. It really makes you realise how integral Mr Stipe's vocals are to the R.E.M. sound.
This is definitely in my top 5 R.E.M. songs. Was this a single? If not, it should have been. I guess what makes this so good is that nobody except R.E.M. fans really know it. It's tucked away near the end of their Out of time album. It hasn't been overplayed like a lot of their other songs. In fact, it hasn't really been played at all as far as I know.
I'm listening to it on my new iPod now. This song makes me smile. Choice cut :-)
3. With A Little Help From My Friends - Sgt. Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band (lead vocals: Billy Shears)
Ahh, good old Billy Shears. Lots of people bag his vocals, but this is one of his most passionate performances. If you've only heard the Joe Cocker version of song, you need to hear the original.
Great vocals and a fantastic bassline. The 'Peppers only released one album in their brief lifetime, but what an album it was. And it's songs like this which make it so amazing.
2. You're So Great - Blur (lead vocals: Graham Coxon)
Yes, this is the 2nd Blur song to make this list. What can I say, I just love "lost classics". Songs tucked away on albums that nobody really knows about. Everybody knows Song 2 from Blur's self-titled album. It has been overplayed almost as much as Alanis Morrisette's Ironic. But nobody really knows this song. And that's what makes it so bloody good.
I could quote the lyrics from this song, but without the music to put it into perspective, it would come across as overly sentimental schmaltz. So I won't. This song sounds like a lost White Album cut. It's amazing. I wish Graham Coxon had sung more songs before he left the band.
1. The Guns of Brixton - The Clash (lead vocals: Paul Simonon)
I have stated the virtues of London Calling in a previous post, so I won't do it again. Instead I will talk about this song, because it's a great one. Joe Strummer and Mick Jones wrote some fantastic songs for The Clash, but I'm pretty sure neither of them wrote a song as good as this one by bassist Paul Simonon. Not to be confused with Paul Simon, of Simon & Garfunkel and Graceland fame.
A sublime bassline and reggae beat holds this song together and odd sound effects add sparks of interest here and there. But it's Paul's vocal performance and the menacing political lyrics which elevate this song to the top of this list.
Situated perfectly at the end of Side-B on the original double vinyl (that's the 2nd side of the first record), the effect of this song relative to the album it lost a little bit on CD*. It just doesn't sound as menacing when it is following by the upbeat ska of Wrong 'em boyo.
* Before you start telling me to act my age, and stop acting all wanky about the old days (strange considering I was born in the same year that London Calling was released) - I will admit that I did hear this album on CD before I heard it on vinyl. But I own the vinyl now, so I am allowed to say that ;-)
Tuesday, 1 November 2005
Whitlams gig [29th October 2005 @ Corner Hotel]
I used to be more of a fan of the Whitlams. To paraphrase a Regurgitator song, I like their old stuff better than their new stuff. Their 1997 album Eternal Nightcap is one of the great Australian albums of all time, a sombre tribute to founding member Stevie Plunder who died tragically a couple of years earlier.
Unfortunately, time has proven that Eternal Nightcap was a fluke in the post-Plunder Whitlams lineup. They are a very different band thesedays, the passion that Stevie brought to the group seems to have been pushed aside in an attempt to establish a more commercial sound. It doesn't sound right to call them a sellout, because they are certainly not commercially successful, but they are such a different sounding band nowadays that it almost seems like trademark infringement to be recording under the Whitlams name. Okay, maybe that's a slight exaggeration. There's still Tim Freedman's vocals, and the style of music is still jazzy piano-based pop. Kind of like an Australian version of Ben Folds Five, if I had to describe them to someone who hadn't heard of them before.
But I was offered free tickets to this gig (thanks Sheri!) so it was hard to turn it down. I dragged my fiance Lorin along (definitely not a Whitlams fan) and while she didn't have a ball, it was still probably a bit better than she expected. It was a sellout gig, and we spent most of the first part of the gig right near the front, packed in like sardines. Hot night + Sellout gig + Corner hotel = Low comfort factor. We ended up moving towards the back of the venue about halfway through, and it was much more comfortable.
They played a good mix of songs from their 5 albums so far, but I was glad to see that they played a lot of tracks from Eternal nightcap and earlier. They also played several songs from their 6th double album, which is going to be released in February 2006 according to Tim. The songs they played from their new album sounded promising, in some ways stripping back to a rawer sound than their last two albums, which is definitely a plus for me.
Opening with Royal in the afternoon (one of the highlights of their latest album Torch the moon), they followed this up with the upbeat You sound like Louis Burdett. One of the surprises of the night was hearing Where is she, one of the lesser known cuts from their debut Introducing the Whitlams. Hard to believe that this album is over 12 years old now.
Tim introduced a song by saying that it about the 2nd girl he fell in love with from Melbourne. I expected him to play Melbourne from Eternal Nightcap, but it was actually No aphrodisiac from the same album, albeit a slowed-down version.
Highlights for me included the early classic I make hamburgers, their semi-title track Gough (which closed the encore and thus gig nicely) and Buy now pay later (Charlie No. 2) which is one of my favourite Whitlams songs and one of the most beautiful piano ballads I have heard. Great stuff.
All in all an enjoyable gig, but I just wish I could lose myself in the moment more instead of feeling sorry for myself in a state of discomfort.
Unfortunately, time has proven that Eternal Nightcap was a fluke in the post-Plunder Whitlams lineup. They are a very different band thesedays, the passion that Stevie brought to the group seems to have been pushed aside in an attempt to establish a more commercial sound. It doesn't sound right to call them a sellout, because they are certainly not commercially successful, but they are such a different sounding band nowadays that it almost seems like trademark infringement to be recording under the Whitlams name. Okay, maybe that's a slight exaggeration. There's still Tim Freedman's vocals, and the style of music is still jazzy piano-based pop. Kind of like an Australian version of Ben Folds Five, if I had to describe them to someone who hadn't heard of them before.
But I was offered free tickets to this gig (thanks Sheri!) so it was hard to turn it down. I dragged my fiance Lorin along (definitely not a Whitlams fan) and while she didn't have a ball, it was still probably a bit better than she expected. It was a sellout gig, and we spent most of the first part of the gig right near the front, packed in like sardines. Hot night + Sellout gig + Corner hotel = Low comfort factor. We ended up moving towards the back of the venue about halfway through, and it was much more comfortable.
They played a good mix of songs from their 5 albums so far, but I was glad to see that they played a lot of tracks from Eternal nightcap and earlier. They also played several songs from their 6th double album, which is going to be released in February 2006 according to Tim. The songs they played from their new album sounded promising, in some ways stripping back to a rawer sound than their last two albums, which is definitely a plus for me.
Opening with Royal in the afternoon (one of the highlights of their latest album Torch the moon), they followed this up with the upbeat You sound like Louis Burdett. One of the surprises of the night was hearing Where is she, one of the lesser known cuts from their debut Introducing the Whitlams. Hard to believe that this album is over 12 years old now.
Tim introduced a song by saying that it about the 2nd girl he fell in love with from Melbourne. I expected him to play Melbourne from Eternal Nightcap, but it was actually No aphrodisiac from the same album, albeit a slowed-down version.
Highlights for me included the early classic I make hamburgers, their semi-title track Gough (which closed the encore and thus gig nicely) and Buy now pay later (Charlie No. 2) which is one of my favourite Whitlams songs and one of the most beautiful piano ballads I have heard. Great stuff.
All in all an enjoyable gig, but I just wish I could lose myself in the moment more instead of feeling sorry for myself in a state of discomfort.
Wednesday, 19 October 2005
Musical memories and discoveries
I started writing this as a reply to Pete's comment in the Cold Fact post, and then realised it was probably worthy of a new post of its own.
I made a statement in that post that music rarely does it for me as much as it used to. Pete made the following comment:
I think too that we tend to romanticise that part of our life a bit much, and it may be that your memory of the music's effect at this time is a bit clouded... but then again, I agree, it ain't what it used to be.
I agree that it is human nature to romanticise the past when thinking about musical memories and discoveries. But there's still no denying the fact that music still doesn't do it for me as much as it used to.
Ahh the memories...
There was this cool library in the Union Building at Monash Uni where you chose a record from their collection, gave it to the attendant, and spent an hour or so just kicking back on the couch with earphones, listening to the record. A great way to kill time between lectures. The first time I heard The Smiths' The Queen Is Dead and Elvis Costello's My Aim Is True was in that library at Monash. I'd never even heard ANY Elvis Costello at that stage, and in hindsight this probably wasn't the best album to get into him, but I'll always remember hearing it in that library. While it probably wasn't as exciting at the time as I am now making it out to be, it's still a fond memory nevertheless.
Discovering Beatles in the mid-late 90's was another big musical turning point. Of course I knew their hits, but I didn't really know their albums that well. There was of course the infamous Beatles night. But I also have a fond memory of copying Rubber Soul and Revolver off Brett on to 2 sides of a 90 minute audio tape. I remember there being something wrong with one side of the tape near the start, so from Taxman until halfway through Yellow Submarine, Revolver didn't quite "sound right". I could still make out the tunes, but the pitch was off and it sounded slow in parts. It was only when I bought the CD a few years later that I got to hear I'm only sleeping and Here, there and everywhere as they should be heard. These are now 2 of my favourite Beatles songs.
But now I have all the Beatles albums. I know them all so well. Despite the fact that they have many great albums and songs, the discovery has been made, and the magic is gone. Never will listening to The White Album thesedays recapture the magic of hearing it for the 3rd or 4th time, when I was just beginning to realise how brilliant it was.
Discovering Elvis Costello was another adventure. A friend (Adam) had lent me his best-of CD in an attempt to get me into his music. He also lent me his album Brutal youth. I tried and I tried but I simply couldn't get into it. Eventually I gave the CDs back to him, and resigned to the fact that I'd never get into his music. As mentioned earlier, eventually I gave a listen to My Aim Is True at Monash uni. Even then, I didn't get into him.
Many months down the line, I suddenly got an urge to listen to some Elvis Costello clips on Amazon. I listened to the low quality clip of Indoor fireworks, and after only listening to a 30 second 64kb/s clip, I couldn't get the song out of my head for a week. I had to buy his greatest hits CD. I did, and I loved it. I'm not sure what I missed the first time. In the next few months, I had to buy all of Elvis Costello's albums. Now I have them all. He is still one of my favourite artists, but the magic is gone.
And that's the problem with music. It takes time to discover it, but eventually the magic will go. And it's not often that I get that magical feeling again. It seems that as I hear more and more music, I compare it to other things I've got in my collection. The chance of a particular album or artist standing out from the crowd diminishes over time.
I think I can summarise it with the following line:
The potential for getting that giddy feeling from listening to music is inversely proportional to the amount of music one has already been exposed to.
Sorry for nerding it up, but it's true.
It's not every day that I get to discover a band as amazing as The Beatles, and that's what I really miss. But every now and then, an album comes along that brings back that feeling of discovery. Cold Fact was one such album.
I'd be interested to hear about your musical discoveries, and whether you agree with what I've said here.
I made a statement in that post that music rarely does it for me as much as it used to. Pete made the following comment:
I think too that we tend to romanticise that part of our life a bit much, and it may be that your memory of the music's effect at this time is a bit clouded... but then again, I agree, it ain't what it used to be.
I agree that it is human nature to romanticise the past when thinking about musical memories and discoveries. But there's still no denying the fact that music still doesn't do it for me as much as it used to.
Ahh the memories...
There was this cool library in the Union Building at Monash Uni where you chose a record from their collection, gave it to the attendant, and spent an hour or so just kicking back on the couch with earphones, listening to the record. A great way to kill time between lectures. The first time I heard The Smiths' The Queen Is Dead and Elvis Costello's My Aim Is True was in that library at Monash. I'd never even heard ANY Elvis Costello at that stage, and in hindsight this probably wasn't the best album to get into him, but I'll always remember hearing it in that library. While it probably wasn't as exciting at the time as I am now making it out to be, it's still a fond memory nevertheless.
Discovering Beatles in the mid-late 90's was another big musical turning point. Of course I knew their hits, but I didn't really know their albums that well. There was of course the infamous Beatles night. But I also have a fond memory of copying Rubber Soul and Revolver off Brett on to 2 sides of a 90 minute audio tape. I remember there being something wrong with one side of the tape near the start, so from Taxman until halfway through Yellow Submarine, Revolver didn't quite "sound right". I could still make out the tunes, but the pitch was off and it sounded slow in parts. It was only when I bought the CD a few years later that I got to hear I'm only sleeping and Here, there and everywhere as they should be heard. These are now 2 of my favourite Beatles songs.
But now I have all the Beatles albums. I know them all so well. Despite the fact that they have many great albums and songs, the discovery has been made, and the magic is gone. Never will listening to The White Album thesedays recapture the magic of hearing it for the 3rd or 4th time, when I was just beginning to realise how brilliant it was.
Discovering Elvis Costello was another adventure. A friend (Adam) had lent me his best-of CD in an attempt to get me into his music. He also lent me his album Brutal youth. I tried and I tried but I simply couldn't get into it. Eventually I gave the CDs back to him, and resigned to the fact that I'd never get into his music. As mentioned earlier, eventually I gave a listen to My Aim Is True at Monash uni. Even then, I didn't get into him.
Many months down the line, I suddenly got an urge to listen to some Elvis Costello clips on Amazon. I listened to the low quality clip of Indoor fireworks, and after only listening to a 30 second 64kb/s clip, I couldn't get the song out of my head for a week. I had to buy his greatest hits CD. I did, and I loved it. I'm not sure what I missed the first time. In the next few months, I had to buy all of Elvis Costello's albums. Now I have them all. He is still one of my favourite artists, but the magic is gone.
And that's the problem with music. It takes time to discover it, but eventually the magic will go. And it's not often that I get that magical feeling again. It seems that as I hear more and more music, I compare it to other things I've got in my collection. The chance of a particular album or artist standing out from the crowd diminishes over time.
I think I can summarise it with the following line:
The potential for getting that giddy feeling from listening to music is inversely proportional to the amount of music one has already been exposed to.
Sorry for nerding it up, but it's true.
It's not every day that I get to discover a band as amazing as The Beatles, and that's what I really miss. But every now and then, an album comes along that brings back that feeling of discovery. Cold Fact was one such album.
I'd be interested to hear about your musical discoveries, and whether you agree with what I've said here.
Tuesday, 18 October 2005
Cold Fact
It is quite unfortunate, but music doesn't have the same effect on me as it used to. Even though great albums come and go, they never seem to stir the same emotions as they did in the past, like when I heard The Smiths for the first time. Or when I took a risk with The Stone Roses and was absolutely blown away. Or the feeling of hearing opening track The everlasting from This is my truth tell me yours for the first time (when I borrowed it off Pete). Music was really exciting back in those days; I didn't have anywhere near as many CDs as I have now, and it felt like there was so much to discover. The possibilities were endless.
Every now and then an album comes along which takes me back to those days where music truly felt exciting. Cold Fact is one such album. When listening to this album for the first time, it felt like I had discovered the holy grail. It's a real paradox of an album. It feels simultaneously of its time and timeless. It feels like the album you have known your whole life, yet at the same time you know you have never heard.
Sixto Rodriguez (who generally performed by his surname only) has created a vibe on this album that is hard to describe but easy to love. His vocals are haunting, his lyrics are surreal, his music is so early 70's but it has aged so well. He sounds like Bob Dylan and Leonard Cohen's more accessible cousin.
But even those descriptions can't do this album justice, it truly is something you need to hear for yourself. Like so many great albums, it's the intangible quality to this music that makes it so good. There's the reverb-soaked fadeout at the end of Sugar man. The way that he can make songs like Crucify your mind and Inner city blues sound so bloody cool despite the fact that the music can almost be considered cheesy. The urge you get to press play again after the final bars of Like Janis fade out. The little cracks and pops from the vinyl to CD transfer which just add to the charm of this magnificent work.
I can't throw enough superlatives at this album. It's an album which needs to be experienced, cherished and loved. It deserves the coveted title of lost classic. In a perfect world, this album would have been as big as any of the Beatles' albums. It would be in more homes than Dark side of the moon. But in a way, being so unknown makes it even more exciting.
If this review has in any way made you curious to hear this undiscovered gem, head down to your local JB Hi Fi (if you are located in Australia) and pick this album up. You can get it for $12.99, and I have even seen it for as low as $9.99. I'll even give you the Jiggy Money Back Guarantee (TM)*.
And if you love this album, please reply to this post and comment on it. Nothing would make me feel better than knowing that I have added this album to your CD collection.
* Album must be purchased prior to 18th October 2005 for this to be honoured
Monday, 10 October 2005
I am a bird now
I have not been inspired to write a review for an album in a long time. Most of the reviews I have posted on this blog are re-runs of reviews I have written previously, and I'm just importing them into the blog so they will be archived for the ages. The album I am a bird now from Antony & The Johnsons has changed that.
I don't remember being so emotionally affected by an album in a long time. Antony is an androgynous singer/songwriter who has an utterly distinct vibrato voice. If there's anyone I could compare him to (and believe me - it's difficult) it would be Nina Simone.
Lyrically, this is an incredibly sad album. Take the opening line:
Hope there's someone
Who'll take care of me
When I die, when I go
The album seems to be a rites-of-passage for Antony. It starts out with him hoping that someone is going to look after him when he dies. A few songs later, he is singing about wanting to grow up to be a woman, but "for today [he] is a boy". He gets some comfort from Boy George*, who he duets with in the stunning album highlight You are my sister. And in the end, he gets his wings ("I'm a bird girl, and the bird girls can fly").
Words cannot do this album justice, you really need to hear it for yourself. If you (like me) are sick to death of soundalike bands releasing derivative crap, and want to hear something original, leave your prejudices at the door and buy this album.
And a few final points in case I haven't convinced you yet:
- This album won the coveted Mercury Prize this year, and it was a controversial win. I'm not going to go into details here, but you gotta love a bit of controversy!
- Music has very rarely given me a physical reaction, but this album has given me goose bumps on several occasions.
Wednesday, 5 October 2005
A slice of music?
For those who don't know, I have just put in an order for a 60GB iPod. Yes, I am joining the fashionable ranks of the white earphone club.
Readers of this blog know that I have not taken this decision lightly. But I've decided to live with an almost-full 60GB iPod and hopefully they'll have a bigger model by the time I get close to exceeding the capacity.
So for the past week, I have been very busy ripping my CD collection. I manage to get through a case of 32 CDs per day, using iTunes to do the ripping.
I started with digipaks (i.e. CDs with cardboard or non-standard sleeves) as they are kept separate in my collection on the top shelf. These are normally the CDs that get discriminated against when I'm deciding what to put in my CD wallet for the week, because it takes more effort to take the disc out of these delicate sleeves than it takes to get a CD out of a standard jewel case. So I'm glad the iPod is going to remove that barrier of discrimination.
I'm now well into the jewel cases, which I have sorted into alphabetical order by artist name, and then chronological order within the artist. I am well into the D's now, and it's already been a week. Yep, there's lots of CDs.
Each day, I listen to all the songs I have ripped so far using the iTunes "Shuffle" feature. For the first few days it was fairly predictable, with not many tunes in the library and I found myself listening to a lot of artists over and over again. Since the 15 Beatles CDs have been ripped, I find myself getting at least a Beatles track a day. I guess the odds are in favour of that. It's cool hearing a Beatles cut that I haven't heard for a while, and probably wouldn't have heard for ages had I not been getting an iPod. I'm a loser from Beatles for sale being one such cut. Choice cut, great lyric.
Each day more artists, songs and albums are getting added to the mix, making the shuffle more exciting each day. And I'm only up to D! It feels like I'm baking a giant musical cake, where the first few days contained the flour (Augie March, Badly Drawn Boy, Beatles) then the eggs are slowly added to the mix (Belle & Sebastian, David Bowie, Jeff Buckley) and now we are getting to the sweet sweet sugar (Elvis Costello, Crowded House). It's fascinating listening to the collection on shuffle, it really is. It makes me realise even more what a brilliant songwriter Elvis Costello is, when I hear a great song like Poor fractured atlas after a mediocre song off David Bowie's Diamond dogs. It really puts things into perspective.
Today I added the dark paprika of The Cure to the mix. The bleak Cold from their bleakest album Pornography came up in the mix. A song I hadn't heard in a long time, and didn't even remember it to be frankly. It's great rediscovering songs like this, although it doesn't even feel like a rediscovery, simply loads of music potential that was waiting to be unleashed.
Tomorrow's going to be an exciting day - the mysterious Doors aroma will be added. And one of my absolute favourites, the spicy Bob Dylan. This cake is getting tastier by the day, and I'm not even a quarter of the way there.
This is going to be one mighty strange tasting cake when it's finished baking in about a month.
Readers of this blog know that I have not taken this decision lightly. But I've decided to live with an almost-full 60GB iPod and hopefully they'll have a bigger model by the time I get close to exceeding the capacity.
So for the past week, I have been very busy ripping my CD collection. I manage to get through a case of 32 CDs per day, using iTunes to do the ripping.
I started with digipaks (i.e. CDs with cardboard or non-standard sleeves) as they are kept separate in my collection on the top shelf. These are normally the CDs that get discriminated against when I'm deciding what to put in my CD wallet for the week, because it takes more effort to take the disc out of these delicate sleeves than it takes to get a CD out of a standard jewel case. So I'm glad the iPod is going to remove that barrier of discrimination.
I'm now well into the jewel cases, which I have sorted into alphabetical order by artist name, and then chronological order within the artist. I am well into the D's now, and it's already been a week. Yep, there's lots of CDs.
Each day, I listen to all the songs I have ripped so far using the iTunes "Shuffle" feature. For the first few days it was fairly predictable, with not many tunes in the library and I found myself listening to a lot of artists over and over again. Since the 15 Beatles CDs have been ripped, I find myself getting at least a Beatles track a day. I guess the odds are in favour of that. It's cool hearing a Beatles cut that I haven't heard for a while, and probably wouldn't have heard for ages had I not been getting an iPod. I'm a loser from Beatles for sale being one such cut. Choice cut, great lyric.
Each day more artists, songs and albums are getting added to the mix, making the shuffle more exciting each day. And I'm only up to D! It feels like I'm baking a giant musical cake, where the first few days contained the flour (Augie March, Badly Drawn Boy, Beatles) then the eggs are slowly added to the mix (Belle & Sebastian, David Bowie, Jeff Buckley) and now we are getting to the sweet sweet sugar (Elvis Costello, Crowded House). It's fascinating listening to the collection on shuffle, it really is. It makes me realise even more what a brilliant songwriter Elvis Costello is, when I hear a great song like Poor fractured atlas after a mediocre song off David Bowie's Diamond dogs. It really puts things into perspective.
Today I added the dark paprika of The Cure to the mix. The bleak Cold from their bleakest album Pornography came up in the mix. A song I hadn't heard in a long time, and didn't even remember it to be frankly. It's great rediscovering songs like this, although it doesn't even feel like a rediscovery, simply loads of music potential that was waiting to be unleashed.
Tomorrow's going to be an exciting day - the mysterious Doors aroma will be added. And one of my absolute favourites, the spicy Bob Dylan. This cake is getting tastier by the day, and I'm not even a quarter of the way there.
This is going to be one mighty strange tasting cake when it's finished baking in about a month.
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