I've been debating with myself for ages about whether or not I should play you today's song. (Should I? Shouldn't I? Should I? Aargh!).
I've been wrestling with my conscience because, although it's a bone fide power pop song and would fit right in on this here blog, I have to confess that there's only one thing about the track I like: the guitar part at the start of the song and in the choruses.
As for the rest of the song, well...
Generally speaking, I feel slightly awkward bagging a song (after all, they took the trouble to write it and record it, not me), but if questioned under oath I'd be forced to admit that I don't think much of the vocal melodies, or the singing, or the instrumental arrangements. But that guitar part – oh, man...
So I thought I'd stop wrestling with my conscience and let you decide what you think of the song. You may like it a whole lot more than I did:
(Musically speaking, that kind of guitar part is called a "drone" because the top notes are repeated while the bottom notes change. I'm a complete sucker for drones.)
It's only just occurred to me (feel free to call me Peter the Obtuse) that it's been ages (or, as people in the theatre would say: "simply aaaages, darling!") since I played you something from the 70's or earlier.
You, on the other hand, have probably been acutely aware of this, and have been waiting patiently for a track from your favourite musical decade. (It is the 70's, isn't it?)
Now that I've remembered to put an older track on the blog, I'm in the mood dfor something from the 70's, and something riffy. (I feel like hearing lots of riffs.)
Australians reading this will possibly let out a collective groan and say "No, not that again." Unfortunately, this song is squirm-inducingly familiar to most Australians, as it has been played regularly on Australian radio ever since it was first released way back in 1974. And now, with commercial radio's obession with nostalgia, it's played almost daily on any given station. (If you're Australian and still listen to commercial radio, you probably heard it yesterday.) However, international visitors to this blog (Hello, and welcome!) may never have been anywhere near it, which means they would have missed on hearing a great song.
By the way, despite the lyrics being about the 70's, I think they're still highly relevant. I reckon that their sentiments will be familiar to a lot of people (hopefully not you) who occasionally feel disconnected to the world they're currently in, and find themselves at odds with life in the 21st century:
I feel a little crazy
I feel a little strange
Like I'm in a pay phone
Without any change
I feel a little edgy
I feel a little weird
I feel like a schoolboy
Who's grown a beard
I'm livin' in the 70's
Eatin' fake food under plastic trees
My face gets dirty just walkin' around
I need another pill to calm me down
I feel a bit nervous
I feel a bit mad
I feel like a good time that's never been had
I feel a bit fragile
I feel a bit low
Like I learned the right lines
But I'm on the wrong show
I'm livin' in the 70's
I feel like I lost my keys
Got the right day but I got the wrong week
And I get paid for just bein' a freak
I feel a little insane
I feel a bit dazed
My legs are shrinkin'
And the roof's been raised
I feel a little mixed up
I feel a little queer
I feel like a barman that can't drink a beer
I know that with a music blog it's generally a good idea to offer the reader/listener a bit of variety, but I'm really diggin' the music of Montana at the moment. Now, because I tend to play you music that I like listening to – and I'm liking Montana (and listening to it a lot) – I feel compelled to inflict some more Montana on you:
Yesterday I ventured away from Australia but stayed on the power pop path. Today it's the reverse: I'm going to stay in Australia but venture ever so gently off the power pop path. Hopefully, there won't be a revolt. (As in "Peter, what's that garbage you're playing now?" Get it off!") It may not be what you're hoping to hear (I'm guessing that you're hoping to hear power pop), but I hope you have a listen to it.
(Many apologies for the ridiculous amount of hope in the above paragraph.)
Anyway, here are Offcutts, a band I know exactly 0.00% about, with a song that is possibly an ode to James Brown (or not – who knows in this post-modern/post-ironic/post-something era we seem to be living in?):
(*I have some advice: if you want to look for a photo of Offcutts, don't. When I searched for images using the word "offcutts", the results were primarily of things I'd rather not mention.**)
(**If you really want to know, think of things like hand injuries in great detail. And when I say "great" here, I don't mean "very good". Yuk. I don't ever want to search for "offcutts" ever again.)
Update: My friend Col managed to find a photo of Offcutts. Thanks, Col!
But I have to ask: why is one of the members holding a leaf blower? Are they being post-modern/post-ironic/post-something here? (I just can't tell with these modern bands.)
If you'll pardon this little detour away from the Southern Hemisphere, I'd like to play you a track from Blondie's Parallel Lines (1978). (No, it's not "Hanging On The Telephone".)
When I was a wee lad, I dutifully bought the 7" single of "Hanging On The Telephone" and played it relentlessly. (What else can you do? It's "Hanging On The Telephone".) However, I thought the B-side was just as good (sometimes better), and played that almost as much.
(Advance apology: DivShare is playing up at the moment and won't let me upload any MP3s. Grrr. I'm afraid that you'll have to do without MP3s for the moment until I find out what's going on with DivShare.)
I have no idea what Miriam is singing, but it sounds great. At the 54-second mark, Ms Makeba rather helpfully says: "Pata Pata is the name of a dance we do down Johannesburg way, and everybody starts to move as soon as Pata Pata starts to play. Whoo!". "Whoo!" indeed. This song got my head bobbing in no time at all. Rhythm, rhythm, rhythm! Mighty good. Then, at 1:55, Miriam says: "Every Friday and Saturday night it's Pata Pata time. The dance keeps going all night long 'til the morning sun begins to shine. Hey!" That "Hey!" was excellent. I like "Pata Pata" a lot. A very enjoyable way to start this week's suggestions.
Up until hearing this particular song, I knew exactly two things about Steve Earle: 1. He was responsible for "Copperhead Road", song that's played distressingly often on commercial radio here in Australia. (I've now heard "Copperhead Road" more than enough times.) 2. He got into a bit of trouble a few years ago for writing a song told from the point of view of a US-born terrorism suspect (whose name I've forgotten). As for "Hard-Core Troubadour", I wasn't much of a fan of Steve's vocal delivery. Instrumentally, it was pretty much par for the course in this type of song (rock/country, rather than country/rock, something that Steve Earle apparently specialises in – so maybe instead of "hard rock", I can call Steve Earle's kind of music "hard country"). I've just paid attention to the lyrics, and this song may or may not be about Bruce Springsteen. (Steve nicks* The Boss's lyrics by singing "Hey, Rosalita, won't you come out tonight".) Overall, this sounds very much to me like a Steve Earle song. And you can take that previous sentence as either a compliment or an insult, depending on how you feel about Steve Earle. By the way, the thing I like most about that video is that it features Mr Earle with extremely impressive sideburns.
You could suggest pretty much any Raspberries song and I'd go into paroxysms of hyperbole**. For me, there are two bands above all others who sit, side-by-side, in the Pantheon of Power Pop: Cheap Trick and the Raspberries. As far as I'm concerned, all power pop stems from those two bands. In other words, like the old saying "Everything tastes more or less like chicken", my brain tells me that power pop sounds more or less like Cheap Trick or the Raspberries. What's great about "Let's Pretend"? Well, let me see... I think it's the melody, the singing (talk about impassioned), the vocal harmonies, the guitar parts, the chord choices, the little bass fills in the choruses, the ultra-relaxed drumming etc etc etc etc etc.
A nice bit of slightly jangly, slightly country, slightly mild power pop. I liked it more than the Steve Earle song, but I was bothered by Willie's vocals. I thought they were a little weak. Well, maybe 'weak' isn't the right word. How would you describe it? For me, when Willie sings the words "ni-i-i-i-ght" and "de-l-i-i-i-ght", he sounds as if he's out of breath. And Willie's vocal vibrato is quick but shallow, which I found odd (and a sign of a weak voice). It just sounds as if Willie's voice isn't strong enough for the task at hand. Maybe that's the phrase I can use: Willie's voice "isn't very strong". But apart from that, the song was a pleasant enough way to spend four minutes.
When I saw the title I thought, "Hmm – I wonder if that's Jimi Hendrix's 'Machine Gun'. And if it is, I wonder how the Commodores will play it...". The track started, and I realised within about 0.92 seconds that it wasn't going to be Jimi's "Machine Gun". However, I was gettin' down to the Commodores' "Machine Gun" almost immediately. Groovy! Funky! Enjoyable! I loved the rubbery sound of the bass. (It reminded me a lot of the Moog synthesizer bass that Stevie Wonderoccasionally played on his recordings.) I could have done without all those synthesizer spaceship sounds (which I'll call "Triple S"), but I guess they add to the funky charm of the track. However, the short bursts of the Triple S (at the beginning of every bar for eight bars, starting at 0:56) were the most disconcerting, as they sounded to me like a little kitten miaowing. I still liked "Machine Gun", though. It puts the 'fun' in funky.
Excellent. A wonderfully varied batch this week (as usual).
(**Never mind that the phrase "paroxysms of hyperbole" sounds dreadfully high-brow – I reckon it'd make a great prog-rock album title. I can see it now: "To Be Released In October 2010: Dreams Of Gondor's latest album, Paroxysms Of Hyperbole. The new album that takes Dreams Of Gondor into realms of the Progressive elite. A sonic journey to rival Tales From Topographic Oceans and In The Court Of The Crimson King as a Prog voyage for the ages.")
(Update: You can ignore the text below, which was typed in a frenzy of "Why isn't DivShare working? Why??")
Unfortunately, DivShare is playing up at the moment so I can't provide you with an MP3 of "Cassandra" for the time being. [Insert un-smiley face here.]
I'll try to have that situation rectified quicksmart pronto. In the meantime, you'll have to be content with the video.
I have to admit that I can't stay away from Japanese girl duo Puffy for too long. After posting a song of theirs three weeks ago, I'm still in a Puffy phase. This may be an unfortunate state of affairs for you, because what I enjoying listening to tends to gravitate towards the blog. And what's gravitating at the moment is Puffy:
As a bonus, here's a mono version of "Nice Buddy" which I actually prefer to the stereo one. Although everything else about the track is identical to the regular version, for some reason the bass guitar in the mono version has been given a different sound and is cranked way up in the mix, making it pretty much the loudest thing on the track – which is entirely fine by me (being a bass player, I always appreciate a noticeable bass):
Great party, where's Sally? Have you seen her rhinoplasty? I'm seeing her doctor, he's going to make me a star.
I will be chart topping, my name you should be dropping, my friends all adore me. How could you just ignore me?
Hey you! Don't you know who I am? Hey you! Don't you know who I am? Hey you! Don't you know who I am?
Great party, where's Timmy? He's smoking crack with Billy. Those guys are so funny, they're making so much money.
It's so cool to be a star, I'm shining here in my car. You'll wave as I go by, pretend you know who we are.
Hey you! Don't you know who I am? Hey you! Don't you know who I am? Hey you! Don't you know who I am? (repeat)
Now that's vicious.
(Catchy, though.)
Happyland was formed by Janet English, the singer/bass player in snarky Australian band Spiderbait (see yesterday's post), and her boyfriend at the time, Quan Yeomans, the singer/guitarist in ultra-snarky Australian band Regurgitator (see the day before yesterday's post), as a side project while they were both still in their respective bands. Considering that both Spiderbait and Regurgitator regularly used their succcessful positions in the music industry to bite the hand the hand that fed them, maybe the two of them didn't feel as if they were criticising the industry they were in enough, and wanted to bite the hand that fed even harder than usual. "Don't you know who I am?"
Link I sometimes think that this is the greatest thing ever recorded in the history of everything. I love it more than words. (I'm going to try very, very hard not to overuse the word "love" here, because my natural urge is to simply describe the various aspects of this song with an excited "Yeah! And I love that bit too!") Now, let's break this song down into the individual components that I think contribute to this possibly being the greatest thing ever recorded in the history of everything:
The spoken introduction: "[Take] 22. Swingin' 22..." I can dig it, cat.
That drunken trombone. Excellent.
Those sharp intakes of breath at the end of each chorus make me laugh every time. Every single time. By the way, is that a chorus? Does this song have choruses? And verses? Does it actually have a traditional song structure? But when this song is so over-the-top in every way, does it matter? (Note to self: no, it doesn't.)
The Gene Pitney-style staccato singing. Beyond magnificent.
That falsetto "me-eeeeee!".
The musical backing. It's groovy, baby.
The little instrumental break that appears at 1:34 for no particular reason. Is it a solo? A middle eight? What is it? Well, whatever it is, it lasts precisely eight seconds. Genius.
The song was released in 1961, the year I was born. Destiny.
It could go on and on (and in excruciating detail) about many other aspects of this song, but then I probably wouldn't get around to the other songs you've suggested (or even not get around to finishing this post).
This was a disappointment. (But then anything after "Tower Of Strength" would have been a disappointment). It's a nice song. I didn't think the rhythm suited the song. It sounded like a sort of gumbo-ya-ya, New Orleans-ish, Mardi Gras-esque track. (It put me in the mood for Professor Longhair's Crawfish Fiesta. I love that album.) I'd have preferred it be treated like a Hudson Brothers song such as "If You Really Need Me", or "Lonely School Year", or even "With Somebody Else" – those kinds of styles. But despite how "Crazy In Love" was recorded, I liked it. I thought Mr Smotherman's voice was a little weak, especially in the higher register (I know that I'm in no position to criticise anyone's voice, because my own singing voice is awful), but it suits the song. I'm mighty glad you suggested this, because I was completely unaware of both Micheal* Smotherman and "Crazy In Love". Incidentally, I liked it more the second time I heard it. And a little more the third time. Thanks for giving me the opportunity to hear it.
(*It took me a while to find out that Micheal Smotherman's first name is actually Micheal, not Michael.)
I can't really think of any comments – positive or otherwise – to make about this song. It just is what it is. It's Joe Jackson being his usual sneering self. (Or maybe not. In the YouTube video above, Joe introduces the song by saying that it's about being single, not about having a hit song.) The tunes are OK, the lyrics are OK, and the instrumental backing was typical of Joe's backing band at the time (clean and punchy). However, I couldn't quite see the point of the drums starting out fast and then slowing down before the song begins properly. I must admit that whenever I see the name of Joe Jackson I instantly think of "Happy Ending" which is probably my favourite Joe Jackson song of all (despite considering his debut album great all the way through). As far as I'm concerned, "Happy Ending" is pretty close to a perfect song.
(A non-Frank suggestion) Joe Jackson - "Happy Ending" (1984)
Link Very nice. Robin Ward has a lovely voice. Sort of like Annette Funicello, but even sweeter. Lovely. And the song's lovely, too. I'm guessing that Robin Ward was a one-hit wonder (assuming that "Wonderful Summer" was a hit). If so, I wonder how many other one-hit wonders-with-wonderful-voices there are out there. I dare say you'd have a fairly good idea, because I never got to hear these forgotten artists in Australia.
The main tune of this was one of the first things I ever learned to play on a guitar. It's a great tune. It's a great song. Great! The version you sent me sounded suspiciously newish (the bass and drums sound distinctly modern and un-60's), so I have a feeling that it wasn't the original. I just found out that Paul Mauriat re-recorded "Love Is Blue" (along with a number of other tracks) in 1994. The version you sent me sounds like it's the re-recording from 1994. Yuk. The YouTube video here is the far better original.
Incidentally, there have been plenty of different versions of "Love Is Blue" but this particular one may interest readers of the blog:
Link I don't know about you, but I think this is weird. It's an easy-listening song, but with Jeff Beck playing over the top of it. Jeff Beck.
Thanks again for the suggestions, O Frank. Apart from the "it doesn't do anything for me" song by Joe Jackson, this week's tracks have been absolutely magnificent. I like those songs!
I think this song is about the singer having trouble with his video game. (As far as I can tell, he experiences what the young-uns call an EPIC FAIL.) But why does he keep singing "What's at the end of Satan's rainbow"? Huh?
"Sweater" was Eskimo Joe's debut single, recorded back when they were young upstarts. Their songs were chipper little ditties, and usually about nonsense (such as sweaters). Unfortunately for me, the lads grew up and became terribly serious. Eskimo Joe now look like this:
The last couple of posts here have been a right royal Pet Sounds love fest – not to mention both of them featuring non-Australian artists on this purportedly Australian blog (although I just mentioned it).
I can't think of an Australian version of something that sounds like Pet Sounds-era Beach Boys, so I'll take that as a cue to move away from All Things Non-Australian and All Things Wilson. I'll have to leave behind beach-related-baroque-pop-infused-with-melancholy for the time being. Instead, I have something a little more up-tempo for you.
Here to blow the cobwebs out of your speakers (or headphones) is an Australian blast of testosterone-fuelled fun:
I must admit that the two main reasons I chose this track are the "yeah-yeah"s (I really like those "yeah-yeah"s) and the little (possibly unintentional) reference to "Jumpin' Jack Flash" at 2:34. Yeah-yeah!
A few years ago I went to the cinema with one of the junior campers (Hi, Natalie!) and we watched The SpongeBob Squarepants Movie.
(Don't worry: I will get to the point very shortly.)
Anyway, as the end credits of the movie rolled along a couple of songs appeared. One of them was an absolutely superb rip-off of Pet Sounds-era Brian Wilson that tickled my ears relentlessly until I couldn't take it anymore and shouted to myself: "That's great!".
If you're a reader of this blog then you're probably a power pop fan. And if you're a power pop fan then you're probably familiar with the scarily revered Pet Sounds. You may have heard that album a few times, or know someone who's heard it a couple of dozen times – or even a couple of hundred times. Either way, Pet Sounds is a pretty well-known album to power pop fans.
I'm mentioning this because today's song is a cover of a track from Pet Sounds. Now, I don't know exactly how you feel about hearing a cover of a Pet Sounds song. If you're a huge Pet Sounds fan, you may not take too kindly to someone covering something so treasured. But then again, you may be the kind of person who thinks: "They're only songs. They're not sacred artefacts that can never be tampered with. Let's see what someone else can do with them."
I must admit that I'm in the latter camp (i.e., "They're only songs..."), so I'm happy to hear someone else's take on something from Pet Sounds. When I heard Scott Bennett & The Dotted Line's version of this particular track, I thought "Oh, yeah – now this is a good cover version":
I like the little reference to "Hey Bulldog" at the end of the song.
"I Know There's An Answer" appears on Scott Bennett & The Dotted Line's self-titled album (2004).
By the way – and this is one of those "isn't it a small world!" things – Scott Bennett just happens to be a member of Brian Wilson's band. Small world, isn't it?
Link Morrissey is a chap I've always been mildly annoyed with. I see him as a combination of arch, camp, and miserable (can somebody be those three things simultaneously?). His persona doesn't appeal to me very much, which unfortunately puts an instant bias into anything of his I'm about to listen to. Before I press "play" I'll try not to picture Morrissey flouncing in an open shirt and drawling in a world-weary way as he monotonises* about whatever he finds too dreary. OK. Time to press "play"...
Well, that was a surprise. As soon as it started, the syncopated guitar part reminded me of T. Rex's "Ride A White Swan":
Then Morrissey started singing. Yep, that's Morrissey alright. Still sounding dreary. But musically, I liked the song. Now, if there was a way to remove Morrissey's vocals and keep the rest of the track...
(Update: I've listened to "Certain People I Know" five times now, and I've read the lyrics twice. Final thoughts before I go back to not paying attention to Morrissey's records: I like the song. And I still find Morrissey annoying.)
Pete Droge - "If You Don't Love Me (I'll Kill Myself)" (1994)
Link I'm pretty sure I've never heard of Pete Droge before, but this song sounds very familiar to me. (Maybe it's appeared on a TV music video program). The more I play this song the more I like it. And I'm sure I've heard it before. I like the guitar sounds (nice slightly distorted tone). The second thing I noticed about this song (after being convinced I've heard it before) is that Pete Droge sound a lot like Martin Plaza from Australian band Mental As Anything:
(Another non-Frank suggestion) Mental As Anything - "Berserk Warriors" (1981)
Link I haven't heard much Elliot Smith (translation: approximately two songs, and one of them was a cover of The Beatles' "Because" due to it popping up at the end of American Beauty). About the only things regarding Elliot Smith I'm fairly sure of are: he was a huge Beatles fan; he wrote songs that were beautiful but depressing (beautifully depressing? depressingly beautiful?); and after a while he wasn't keen on living anymore. According to the Wikipedia entry on "Say Yes", this song is unusually optimistic (well, unusually for Elliot Smith). Now to listen to it. I must say that I didn't find "Say Yes" particularly optimistic. As I listened to the song over and over again, I kept thinking that for the instrumental backing I would prefer to hear a harpsichord instead of the guitars. (The song's melody, chords, and structure sound like it'd make a great Baroque Pop ballad.) Oh, and if someone wants to record a cover version of "Say Yes", two more suggestions: add a string quartet and remove the swearing. But, as it is, it's a nice song. Apart from the swearing.
Link Another country-ish song. I wasn't especially keen on this one. I didn't find it terribly memorable or noteworthy. This is yet another another "Saturday" song that reminds me of a particular Paul Kelly song that I think I've already pestered you with:
Link Yay! David Bowie! I'm a huge fan of The Ever-Changing Artist. But I guess not every power pop fan loves Monsieur B. I know that Steve Simels over at PowerPop absolutely loathes The Bowie and thinks he's a terrible poseur, so I suppose if I generalise in the most sweeping way possible I can recklessly assume that David Bowie has a fairly polarising effect on the power pop community. Nevertheless, I can't get enough of DB (although I'll cheerfully admit that I find just about anything after 1980's Scary Monsters to be mildly to moderately dreadful). Incidentally, before listening to all of today's songs, I was listening to Rooney's self-titled debut (2003). Now that I've heard "Speed Of Life" again, all thoughts of Rooney have evaporated and I'm currently in the mood for "Station To Station". Excuse me while I play "Station To Station":
I've only just noticed that with all songs on offer here, there seems to be a bit of a theme. Starting with Mopey-Drawers Morrissey, then moving on to Pete Droge saying that he doesn't want to live without someone loving him, then Elliot Smith with his "life's too beautiful for me to cope with" sentiments, and Robbie Fulks wanting to kill Saturday Night (good luck there, Robbie, because I think a lot of people would want to stop you – they like Saturday night). At least there's David Bowie focusing on life, and discussing the speed of it (albeit instrumentally).
Were you feeling a little down when you chose those songs, perhaps?
(*I have a feeling that "monotonises" isn't actually a verb.)
