Pages

Band: Bob Marley & The Wailers
Song: Buffalo Soldier (Listen)
Album: Confrontation (1983) (Buy)


The fantastic weather we Englishmen and women have had has disappeared as quickly as it arrived. Typical really, but for an all too brief week the summer of 2010 had graced us with its presence. Hopefully it will be back before too long. Anyway, for this one glorious week the general population was out in force getting tanned or hilariously burned on various patches of grass the country over, and all the summer songs were on full blast as a soundtrack to their roasting. For me, nothing says summer more than Buffalo Soldier by Bob Marley, and it has been on repeat once the sun came out and the mercury began hitting 25°C.

I guess I’m stepping out of my comfort zone a little with this one. Of all the genres of music I listen to, reggae is one of the ones I know least about. Bob Marley aside, I’d have trouble naming two other reggae artists. Not that this is a surprise to anyone; after all, he is pretty much the standard when it comes to the genre, and perhaps the token reggae artist that everyone has listened to a little bit. I mean, everyone loves a little bit of Bob, right? Not that this mainstream appeal detracts from his genius at all...

Regardless, I’ve always been aware of his music, existing somewhere just beyond my periphery so that I never actually listened to him properly. It was only last summer that he truly entered my musical conscience, when wherever I seemed to go someone was jamming along to Bob. Starbucks seemed to have Legend on constant play, and he turned up continuously on whatever speakers we had during our numerous cotches in Hyde Park. It was at this point in time, relaxing in the summer sun, that I properly started to get into his music. Now that the good weather is sort of starting to come back, Bob's songs have been seriously stuck in my head, and Buffalo Soldier the most of all of them.

Simply put, listening to this song just makes my head scream “YEAAAAAH SUMMER!!!” The slow tempo just makes me think of chilling in the park, and the bright chords make me think of a blue sky and vibrant green grass. The lyrical content may be somewhat more serious, but it’s certainly sung in a positive light, with the idea that the fight for survival that the song depicts will eventually be won. Regardless of the content, Bob’s vocals, especially the ‘woy yoy yoy’ later in the song, just make me think of happy times free of worry or concern, completely unaided by any variety of smoke-able plant. Honestly.
Band: Iron Maiden
Song: Moonchild (Listen)
Album: Seventh Son of a Seventh Son (1988) (Buy)


Moonchild is the first song off of one my of favourite band’s favourite albums. It also happens to be one of my favourite songs on there too. Unfortunately, I must admit that I’ve neglected the album as a whole until recently; it has simply been pushed to the back of my mind by other records I’m discovering. However, it has in the past week been launched back to the front of my mind thanks a small game called Beat Hazard. In a brief sentence, you blow shit up to the beat and rhythm of a song of your own choosing. I'm completely and shamelessly addicted to it. Anyway, it just so happens that Moonchild works absolutely brilliantly in it, giving me a decent enough reason to talk about an Iron Maiden song.

To talk about the song though, one must first talk about the album. Being a concept album, Seventh Son of a Seventh Son could have potentially been a sign of the band’s increasing self-importance and self-indulgence. The central story follows the traditional occult tale of a seventh son of a seventh son (surprise, surprise), who is blessed and cursed with a number of powers that place him at the centre of a struggle between good and evil. Not that you’d know this from listening to the album, as to its strength it largely plays down the story, instead allowing relatively subtle references to it to instead highlight larger themes. This more often that not prevents the album from being bogged down, as many concept albums are, with what is essentially a fantasy story. That said, the lyricists Bruce Dickinson and Adrian Smith can’t help but sometimes lapse into what for some may be confusing and bizarre lyrical content, a factor that makes or breaks the album depending on the listener. By and large though, the album avoids these concept album stereotypes, instead being one of the greatest albums ever made (in my humble opinion). There are plenty of classic songs here that stand just as strong on their own as they do as part of the album, with clever lyrics and a lot of the time even greater music, perhaps the best Maiden have ever produced.

But I digress. Moonchild is largely representative of the album as a whole, and as such it’s only potential weakness in my eyes is its lyrics, something that I love but that would hold me back from sharing the song with certain people. Told from the point of view of Lucifer (you can see we’re off to a good start), the lyrics are at best a mystical set of prophecies and threats delivered to the protagonists of the story, setting the scene for the rest of the album. They are at worst the insane ramblings of Satan. Take them as you will. You will be more than able to ignore them due to a Bruce Dickinson who was at the height of his vocal talent.

What makes the song for me isn’t the content, however, but the music. With a mastering of the keyboard-layered style they toyed around with on their previous album, the song features some great rhythm work, subtle during the verses and then rising with a great chorus riff. Top that with great singing and solos, as well as one of the best build ups to a song I've ever heard, and you’ve got a song that I can’t stop blowing spaceships up to.
Artist: volcano!
Song: Frozen In Escape (Spotify)
Album: Beautiful Seizure (Buy)


I remember the first time I heard volcano! a few years back. I was at a friends house on a summer afternoon listening to music on his computer between jamming and playing playstation, when his brother put on Apple or a Gun. It didnt hit me immediately, but something stuck with me, to the point I looked them up a few months later and bought their first album, Beautiful Seizure. I consider myself a relatively fickle person when it comes to music, and I can say that this is among only a handful of albums I've listened to fairly consitently since getting it, and I highly recommend you do the same. It's an album that definitely has its more immediate songs (Apple or a Gun, Easy Does It, Fire Fire) that I could all enthuse about for ages, but there were always tracks that eluded me until much recently. One of these was Frozen In Escape.

I'm not sure if it was something about me being much younger that lead to me never giving this song a proper chance, either skipping it on listens through the album or idly having it on in the background, but I know now that I was a fool. Maybe it was how slight it is, constituting only of Aaron With's piercing vocal and sparse guitar strums for the majority of the first half of the song. Maybe it was that it doesn't go far for the first 2/3rds of the song, relying on understatement to emphasise With's verses of longing for the past. I think I always appreciated the slightly chaotic ending to an extent, but it's not even half as affecting without 'getting' what precedes.

There's something about With's repeated croons of 'It's better there' that gets to me now where it didn't before. There's something affecting about that first guitar stab in the chorus and the way volcano! as a band seemingly effortlessly use the juxtaposition of loud and quiet to draw you so completely into a mood. It all makes me genuinely feel something now that I was stupidly oblivious to before. I'm not sure what that exact reason may have been, but I know now that my life would be much poorer without the music of volcano! and I urge you to give them the time and patience to become part of yours.
Artist: Rufus Wainwright
Song: Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk (listen)
Album: Poses
(buy)

Writing songs that are truly from the heart and that are intrinsic to your being is difficult. Of course it is. If it were easy, the Cheeky Girls would probably have released a beautifully poetic ballad on the struggles of a harsh life in Romania and Lady Gaga would be writing powerfully emotive songs about how difficult it is wear such few clothes and still hide her man parts. The issue is then writing something that means a lot to you but doesn’t come across as too self involved and pretentious. A tough task, especially since having already taken the role of songwriter, you have decided that the rest of the world needs to hear your own personal musings. How do you keep the vanity out?

Here, dear reader, is where I believe Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk comes into its own. I’m not trying to claim that it is unique in the fact that it’s a song which manages to be heartfelt and not-conceited but it does manage to roll so many different lyrical elements into one. It manages to be easily relatable, with you agreeing with each of the small temptations of everyday life, “If I should buy jellybeans, Have to eat them all in just one sitting”.

At the same time it feels so personal as Rufus Wainwright tiptoes gingerly around his own darker periods; when his addictions turned “A little bit deadly”, with the subtle change of key on “And then there’s those other things” throwing a sudden dark veil over what was developing into an uncomplicated ditty about life’s little temptations. So subtle though, that you can listen to it many a time and not even notice the darker more wizened lyrics, causing such complex and tumultuous emotions to appear utterly understandable.

Finally, it doesn’t shroud itself in ambiguity. Sometimes the beauty of a song is embedded in its hidden meanings and the listener’s ability to extrapolate their own understanding, however, this song manages to take the cigarettes and jelly beans and Raggedy Andy’s of everyday existence and weave them into a complex elegy to the vices that are struggled through by each of us.

Yours indulgently,
JoewMo
Band: Miike Snow
Song: Animal (listen)
Album: Miike Snow (buy)

I am very snobbish. I pride myself on being quite a liberal, unprejudiced individual, but it’s a lie. For example, as soon as I saw Miike Snow, I thought “Oh I shall listen to this and give it fair judgement.” Then I looked a bit closer and realised that there were two “ii”’s in Mike, for seemingly no reason and then instantly wrote off all of the music as overly pretentious dribble that in no way deserved my attention. To be fair, my thinking was sound, it’s like when you see somebody has dotted an ‘i’ with a smiley face or has written a SeNtEnCe LiKe ThIs. You just develop an irrational dislike for said person. The extra ‘i’ in Miike is totally superfluous as far as I can figure despite being Swedish and them having a penchant for additional vowels, but it has led me to re-evaluate my prejudice. Perhaps if Newton were alive today he would have been StAnDiNg On ThE sHoUlDeRs Of GiAnTs :).

Oh right yeah, the song. It’s good, you probably got that from the fact that I’m writing about it. I think I like it because it’s unashamedly what it is, which is dancey, happy electropop. It’s pleasant and catchy without becoming irritating, somewhere in between the effortless enjoyability of Temper Trap and the nails down a chalkboard Calvin Harris.

Miike Snow have made a habit of making this sort of music. Their eponymous debut album is just full of it, and although Animal is undeniably my favourite, there are some other songs that are well worth a listen. ‘Black & Blue’ having the feel of one of those songs that has been there throughout your life but have only recently bothered to put a name to. ‘Silvia’ being another, has a very tangible quality like a strangely pleasurable ice shower (really not good at analogies).

I think my favourite aspect of the song is it resists the temptation to simply become chintzy, over-produced dance music and instead continues as a perfectly harmonised and multi-layered song. This song is comfortable in so many different scenarios, it could work on a relaxing playlist or could be pumped out (albeit slightly remixed) into clubs and still seem perfectly at home. That in itself is why I love this song, because no matter what mood I’m in, no matter where I am, I can listen to it.

Yours siincerely,
JoewMo
Artist: Red Hot Chili Peppers
Song: Police Helicopter (Listen)
Album: The Red Hot Chili Peppers (1984) (Buy)

I am a huge Chili Peppers fan. They were the first band I saw live, and Under the Bridge might just be my favourite song ever. However, I’ve always known deep down that I wasn’t a true fan: I’d barely listened to any of their earlier and somewhat funkier music. Higher Ground, which is admittedly incredibly funky and incredibly brilliant, was the closest I’d ever come, and that’s already 3 albums into their catalogue, meaning I was still always a long way from their roots. It’s a secret I’ve tried to hide for years, and one I’d refused to acknowledge, but a few weeks back I confronted my inner demons and set about finding me some old school Chili Peppers (thanks Spotify!)

The result of my search was Police Helicopter, one of the first songs they ever wrote. The quickest way to describe this song to you is to show you what Anthony Kiedis (the singer, in case you’re THAT uncultured) thought about the song, and also what their producer at the time thought of it:

Anthony Kiedis: “It embodied the spirit of the band which was the kinetic, stabbing, angular, shocking assault force of sound and energy”

Andy Gill: “Shit”

Suffice to say, Andy Gill was not their producer for long.

Anyway, when I first listened to the song, having already read about it 2 years prior in Anthony Kiedis’ autobiography, it was a case of not really being sure what I thought about it. I knew that a large amount of people would probably agree with Andy Gill; it’s certainly a world away from songs such as Californication. However, for all its simplicity and repetitiveness, there was an undeniably vast amount of energy in the song, and it’s all condensed into a very small amount of time. It’s over before you even know what’s hit you, but once it’s done you know that something big has definitely not just hit you, but rather completely done you in with a baseball bat. It’s a burst of funky energy, and now that I’ve learnt the bass line I can’t stop listening to it and jamming along. I think the best way I can put it is that the song has a bloody infectious groove, and once it sunk in after a few listens in I was hooked.

Also, man can Flea write a great bassline! Simple, but it’s definitely got its hooks in me, and it refuses to let go.
















Band
: !!!
Song: Dear Can (Stream)

Album: Louden Up Now (2004) (Buy)


I typically go through phases of listening to certain bands, genres and songs for a number of days before I get bored and move on to something else. This will probably be reflected in the articles I write in future, but I find Dear Can impossible to tire of. Really.

Just as !!! (chk chk chk) reside in that grey area between a dance outfit and an indie band, Dear Can resides in a sort of grey area between an instrumental and a full blown song. It has words, but they work more to allow the vocals of Nic Offer and John Pugh to function rhythmically. Sometimes it’s unclear what exactly is being sung, and to a greater extent, what the hell it's about (‘Burn the maps/the maps burn’‘I know you want more’ ). A friend of mine once said that she couldn't enjoy instrumentals because they can't have any meaning because they have no words. I see where she was coming from to a degree, but if anything, Dear Can is an example of the opposite; these lyrics mean absolutely nothing, but that’s part of the joy. They’re just phrases, repeated again and again – more riffs in a jam than lyrics.

3 steady bass drum blasts serve as the backbone for the majority of the song, over the course of which it becomes the most infectious beat in the world. I defy you to find a better one. The interplay of two guitars producing a recurring motif, cymbals, bells, shakers, and spacey keyboard sounds intertwine and drift in and out of each other demanding that you move. Around the 80 second mark the bass kicks in and you have no choice. It's amazing.

At times Dear Can meanders into 'ambient' sections typical of !!!. In other cases, (Must Be the Moon, Bend Over Beethoven) this is a trope that can take away from the inherent rhythm of their songs, but anchored with such a strong, relentless beat, these are used to best effect, giving the track some necessary breathing space.

There are a lot of elements used throughout the course of the song, including some unexpected brass, but it never feels overwhelming. Each musical line is subtle enough not to overshadow any of the others, whilst still adding something more to the song. Like the majority of dance songs, there's a breakdown, which highlights the nonsensical vocals of Offer and Pugh (can anyone work out what they’re singing?), before dropping into a typical 4-on-the-floor beat. It’s not a massive, anthemic drop by any stretch of the imagination, but this kind of subtlety allows Dear Can to bury itself into your head as well as being hella danceable, and I think it's all the better for it. However, it may not be the most accessible of songs, but it becomes so much more in spite of and perhaps because of this.

It may not have meaning, but it represents where I think my friend has missed the mark completely. Meaning isn't what this music is about, it's about feeling, and I don't think that there are many words out there that could give me the same feeling sheer escapism and elation that Dear Can does. Besides, who needs meaning when you have groove by the truckload?