Brian Eno – "St. Elmo’s Fire"

This tune comes from Brian’s third and quite probably most worthwhile album, and I am referring to “Another Green World.” This song is weird and majestic, the percussion is very alien. Brian always uses lyrical abstracts and as to what he is referring to exactly is beyond my tight little buttocks, and perhaps an individual somewhat more educated in the world of Eno can help me reach a worthwhile conclusion. The star of the show, so to speak, is the amazing guitar work of Young Master Robert Fripp of King Crimson and Robert Fripp fame. His guitar playing somehow sounds like a clarinet on fire having sex with a bisexual rattlesnake on the planet Boner Fart. Things are that intense in the lead guitar department on this cut, and I am shatting you not here, buster.

The little piano touches, all aspects of the composition are near perfection and let me make clear that this is one of Brian Eno’s very best songs, and that is saying a lot, especially if one thinks about all of the amazing vocal-driven material contained on “Here Come the Warm Jets.” This tune could have easily been included on the motion picture soundtrack to the Jim Henson film “Labyrinth,” it’s just that fantastical and strange. It is almost as if early Eletronica somehow mingles itself in with classic Psychedelia and with decidedly sexy results, mate.

I beg of you to rock your bottom violently as your ears greet you to the ecstasy that is Brian Eno’s “St. Elmo’s Fire.”

Joy Division – “Day of the Lords”

What does one say exactly? Well, do you know? Listen up, baby tears; Joy Division’s “Day of the Lords” is one of the most powerful jams in the history of dry land. Anyone who happens to disagree is quite clearly jealous. “Day of the Lords” is the second song that greets the listener on Joy Division’s icy melancholic debut “Unknown Pleasures.” The song gradually builds in intensity at various points until it reaches the chorus portion mantra with Ian Curtis bellowing “Where Will It End? Where Will It End?” Being world weary in ones early twenties is quite commonplace, but Curtis literally sounds as if the species is going to be wiped out within a few days time.

Listen to the razor sharp guitar and that violent death march of a drum beat, and most ominous of all may very well be the throbbing and relentless bass line. All sounds like a tin can in a blender, but yet, everything is very much musical and eerily catchy. Unlike more recent dorks of the mope mindset in terms of Rock, Ian Curtis actually makes the proceedings quite palatable from a musical perspective and no doubt rather potent as well. Lyrically, we almost have one of those dark and dreary Jim Morrison rambles, as portions of “Day of the Lords” sort of reminds me of The Doors highly dramatic tendencies on “The End.”

Here is a lyrical sample for you to decipher with the aid of your noodle:

This is the room, the start of it all,
No portrait so fine, only sheets on the wall,
Ive seen the nights, filled with bloodsport and pain,
And the bodies obtained, the bodies obtained.

Where will it end? where will it end?
Where will it end? where will it end?

Not bad, eh? I must admit that from a lyrical perspective I am also thinking of “Not to Touch the Earth” by The Doors as well. But hey, that’s just me. In terms of live performance, this song was given an added level of intensity and there is little to compare it to in this realm, simply pure Joy Division doing what they did best: which was rocking out. Certainly, some of my many readers may be surprised that I did not decide upon “Transmission” or “Love Will Tear Us Apart,” but that’s just how I roll, and I hope that you will understand. Who knows how corny and New Wave Joy Division would have gone, but at the very least, we are left with a worthwhile musical legacy where personal demons for Ian Curtis gave us plenty to shake our bums to.

Now then, “Day of the Lords,” and it’s live, buster!

Pearl Jam - "Jeremy"

"Jeremy spoke in...spppooookkkeee iiiinnnnn..."

Cho Seung-Hui spoke in class today:

Following a week filled with school violence (the Virginia Tech shootings, the eigth anniversary of the horrific Columbine Massacre), I found myself turning to a song (and video) that has, quite frankly, freaked me out since I was a child: Pearl Jam's "Jeremy".

I do realize that many of my co-writers (and readers) of this site are probably alienated, maybe even cringing by my love of Pearl Jam, admittedly not a popular band round these indie parts (their recent records don't really help my case, truth be told). And yet, I've been a faithfull Pearl Jam fan (defender?) since my father brought home "Binaural" some time around its release, and I bought "Ten" as a wee laddy.

In retrospect, it's a bit of a shocking accomplishment that "Jeremy" managed to become the top ten hit it did. Among the seventies rock-worshipping grunge anthems of "Ten" lies this frightening look into the mind of a troubled teen, tormented by classmates, who "gnashed his teeth and bit the recess ladies breast" and was later driven to a suicide in front of the classroom. Over an undeniable creepy bass intro and "Ding! Ding!" response, Vedder paints a picture of a typically disturbed, violent adolescent:

Drawing pictures
Of mountain tops
With him on top
Lemon yellow sun
Arms raised in a V
Dead lay in pools of maroon below

History lesson: So, I've done some research on the inspiration for this song, and have come to find it was based on the tragic suicide of Jeremy Wade Delle at Richardson High School in Texas, 1991, a kid not that much younger than myself. "Jeremy was a good kid with a mountain of problems that he didn't deserve," said a teacher who knew him. Delle had recently switched into the school from a psychiatric hospital, and was almost immediately deprived of social contact in the In-School Suspension program. He arrived in English class on 1/8/91 and was told to get an admittance slip from the school office. Instead, he remarked, "Miss, I got what I really went for," put a .357 Magnum revolver in his mouth and blew his brains out in front of the class on that otherwise mundane Tuesday morning.

A girl named Lisa Moore knew Jeremy from the in-school suspension program. "He and I would pass notes back and forth and he would talk about life and stuff," she said. "He signed all of his notes, 'Write back.' But on Monday he wrote, 'Later days.' I didn't know what to make of it. But I never thought this would happen."
A fascinating collection of information on this incident.

Newspaper article of the school suicide, January 1991

Account of a fellow student at the school.

"An affluent suburb, 64 degrees and cloudy":

Anyway, this brings us to the song. Eddie "I Hate Being Famous" Vedder supposedly came across a newspaper blurb of this sad incident and wrote the song on the spot, attempting to get into the mind of the subject. Said Vedder in an interview:


"It came from a small paragraph in a paper which means you kill yourself and you make a big old sacrifice and try to get your revenge. That all you're gonna end up with is a paragraph in a newspaper...it does nothing...nothing changes. The world goes on and you're gone. The best revenge is to live on and prove yourself. Be stronger than those people. And then you can come back."

The song grows from this foreboding intro to a truly harrowing climax in which "King Jeremy the wicked speaks in class", so to speak. Eventually, parental neglection and peer alienation is too much to deal with.

Clearly I remember
Pickin' on the boy
Seemed a harmless little fuck
But we unleashed a lion

During the song's intense bridge, Vedder moans, groans and attempts to "forget this, to erase this from the blackboard." The blood literally splattered on to the blackboard, and I would imagine the witnesses to this horrific suicide remembered this image in their minds for years to come.

"Whoooahhh--ohh--oaahh! Hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo! Aye, aye, aye, aye,!"

Anyway, don't kill yerself - it's a rather cowardly exit from this often confuzzling world. Below is the creepy video for this cathartic song. I remember it giving me the chills when I first viewed it as a child and, despite its admittedly cheesy nature, I still get a bit creeped out by a bunch of ten year olds doing the Nazi salute. Fun fact: From watching the music video, it's easy to get the misconception that Jeremy shot his classmates, from the images of the kids splatted with blood, a la Columbine. However, in reality, Jeremy only kills himself. This isn't clear due to the fact that MTV forced Pearl Jam to censor some of the violent imagery of Jeremy putting the barrel into his mouth and pulling the trigger during the video's climax.



P.S. I really like that little "dananana-na-na" guitar riff that Stone does after the "Jeremy spoke in class today" line.

P.S.S. Despite popular belief, not everyone named Jeremy are a danger to themselves or others.

Anyhoo, now I gotta go listen to some Beach Boys or something to cleanse myself of this dirtyviolentsuicidal talk.

"The Piano Has Been Drinking (Not Me)" - Tom Waits

"Personification, or personification anthropomorphism is a figure of speech that gives non-humans and objects human traits and qualities. These attributes may include sensations, emotions, desires, physical gestures, expressions, and powers of speech, among others. As a figure of speech it has a very long history; its Greek name is prosopopoeia. Personification is widely used in poetry and in other art forms. Personification can also be used in English to emphasize a conversational point." -Wikipedia

We learned the definition of this literary device back in fifth grade Language Arts (that's what they called it) class. I have yet to figure out how exactly Tom Waits snuck into this class and traveled back in time to 1976 to record this song, but I suppose we should consider ourselves better for having heard it.

"Small Change" as an album seems to alternate between drunken, late-night piano ballads and drunken, late-night white-boy beat raps. This song clearly represents the crop of the cream of the former category. Over a morbidly simple, yet effective and lovely piano (yup!) melody, Mssr. Waits sets a mood, and an image in your mind of a damp bar in the wee small hours of the morning. He's got a way with words, that Waits boy:

The piano has been drinking
my necktie is asleep
and the combo went back to New York
the jukebox has to take a leak
and the carpet needs a haircut
and the spotlight looks like a prison break
cause the telephone's out of cigarettes
and the balcony's on the make
cause the bouncer is a Sumo wrestler
cream puff casper milk toast
and the owner is a mental midget
with the I.Q. of a fencepost
cause the piano has been drinking
the piano has been drinking...

I smell it! Almost... *moves to dark alley at 3:00 AM* *Eastern Standard Time* *stuffs lungs with nicotine*

Anyway, I find that "Small Change" is filled with some majestically clever lyrics that you really gotta listen for. For example, the perverted sex-rap of "Pasties & A G-String": crawlin on her belly shakin like jelly
and I'm getting harder than
Chinese algebraziers and cheers

Or the classic:
I don't have a drinking problem
Except when I can't get a drink

This song describes a lightman "blind in one eye, and he can't see out of the other."

Somehow, in that sort-of twisted, kind of half-conscious, muddy way, it seems to make sense. Maybe the piano really has been drinking. *issues D.W.I.*

Sonic Reducer -- The Dead Boys

I’m pretty sure it was, Scott Bayo. I’m pretty sure he was the ‘drug dealer’ in this late 70’s/ early 80’s Afterschool Special called ‘Stoned,’ or something like that. I could always just check the imdb, but then it just isn’t that important.
The reason the Afterschool Special is even worth mentioning here is it has this fantastic line to reject any form of persuasion. A line to rebuff even the most benign suggestion, a line that says – I’m not risking anything. It’s from the scene where the dealer is pushing the protagonist to give ‘grass’ a try.

To which the protagonist replies,

‘I don’t have to eat dirt to know what it tastes like.’

Try it, it works.

Honey, maybe you could slow down to 65?
I don’t have to eat dirt to know what it tastes like.

See…rebuffed.

Here’s one of my own variations —

Co-worker: Maybe you could give a little heads-up about the priority stuff you’re sending on?
Me: I don’t have to run around flapping my arms to see if I can fly.

Re…Buffed!

The basic point of the declaration is this ‘people will try and exploit you with persuasion and it’s best if you just don’t risk anything – ever.’ Critical Thinking -001.

So my choice, ‘Sonic Reducer’ is a real safe one. It’s equally difficult for me to sell shit as it is for me to buy shit. And this is such an obvious great song (uh.. Pearl Jam did a cover) that I don’t even have to try and sell its greatness. It’s not only about not really risking anything, it’s also about minimum persuasion.

I don’t have to shove feathers up my ass to see if I’m a duck.


Getting
On
With it

There is plenty to say about The Dead Boys, about Stiv Bators’ career and all the connecting bands, the late 70’s scene and influences. Thankfully, there is plenty that’s already been said, so I’m just leaving links at the bottom, just in case you have to know. These links also minimizes the amount of bullshit (informative information stuff) I have to spout in order to get to what I want to say about the song. And that’s what we call a win-win.

Here’s what I have to say about the song --

1.) The man (Stiv Bators) just flat out had a power behind the words he sang.
2.) ‘Sonic Reducer’ is all about the power.

Okay, here’s a little more –

3.) Sometimes lyrists fuck up the content of a song by getting too elevated by the cerebral aspect of ‘expression’ in writing a song and entirely forget that we are all pretty much goddamn animals.
‘Sonic Reducer’ is the anima and the ego, the R-complex and the cerebrum. The animal lashing out at the social dynamic of how others judge and value and react to the disenfranchised. Better still, there is no melancholy here, no whining about how ‘my poor little intellectual mind is so isolated and misunderstood,’ it’s all said in a pretty straightforward potent statement.

Once my time machine is done (cerebral), you fuckers are gonna pay (animal).

‘I’m not just anyone! I’m not just anyone!’
I’m sure Nietzsche is smiling somewhere.

[side note:]…Just now I’m wondering about a correlation between the lines ‘I got my time machine’ and Pop’s ‘Look out honey, ‘cause I’m using technology’ from Search and Destroy. Hmmmmmmmm…….

In conclusion:

Anyone who is feeling alienated, insignificant, undervalued, powerless….Get ready to feel better.


Video:



The Dead Boys
Stiv Bators

Banapple Gas by Cat Stevens

An exhilarating and curious song by good old uncle Yusuf. Yusuf Islam is what they call Cat Stevens these days, mate. Of course, I won't discuss his recent legit Pop record, literally his first album in decades (And you thought Kate Bush was slow to release a record!). Deeply involved and entirely complex issues are at the core of Cat's absence from the music scene, as most already know. However, we are going to travel back in time to the year of our Lord 1975, so that I may clarify a disturbing and comedic song included on Cat's "Numbers" concept album, and that song is "Banapple Gas." My interpretation is that this song is about somehow being able to breathe a combination of banana and apple, perhaps this is Cat's attempt at a jab in relation to the rather prominent drug culture of the '70's? This is a musically rewarding listen, as things get quite diverse with elements of Country steel guitar and Tropical flourishes as well.

Cat sings rather enthusiastically about this strange substance as if it were some sort of magical alien drug, if you will, and something that would make all persons rather goofy and happy at all times. It should be noted as well that the album this track comes from may very well feature Cat Stevens at his most musically and lyrically eccentric, as "Numbers" the album delves into heady topics in which numbers can be used to describe the universe in great detail. This is some pretty nerdy business that Cat is up to on this album, and as always, the religious imagery is very much plentiful. Perhaps it is surprising that I have not decided upon the more so cultural landmarks in Cat's oeuvre, such as "Peace Train" or "Wild World," but from my perspective, "Banapple Gas" really lets loose a very imaginative aspect of Cat's sound and one that is not quite as widely known or celebrated.

Certainly, Cat Stevens is a singer/songwriter to be reckoned with; and being able to cook up a whimsical novelty cut like "Banapple Gas" makes him all the more impressive, as it doesn't all need to be world weary social commentary. Regardless of the exact content or nature of a Cat Stevens song, rarely did he cut a song that was not musically worthwhile. It is interesting to note as well that "Numbers" was not much of a success when released, as it received poor reviews on the whole and "Banapple Gas" was a single that barely charted. However, observing this overall silly record and song in retrospective, what Cat has done is changed directions in a creative sense, but by no means did he lose his ability to craft a quality Folk Pop album, and because of this, I am of the opinion that "Banapple Gas" should be given an equal amount of weight on par with his better charting songs and that "Numbers" in its way should then be on equal playing field with an epic like "Teaser & the Firecat."

Here we have an infectious live version from 1976...



Finally, the concert from which this performance is taken is available in full as part of a 2004 DVD release entitled "Majikat (Earth Tour 1976)."

Idiot Wind by Bob Dylan

This song kicks a fair amount of buttocks, it's just one of those tunes you can endlessly play. And as is often the case with Dylan, all is a lyrical riddle, is it not? Just how exactly Bob Dylan expresses rage and desolation is quite fascinating, as the track in question contains what might be referred to as surreal Western imagery and a pessimistic viewpoint on intellectual pursuits. Of course, this is just my interpretation. Persons more educated than myself on Dylan probably no doubt realize that this song at least in part, deals with a serious breakup, perhaps even the breakdown of a marriage. Also, Bob Dylan makes clear to clarify that fame is not all it is cracked up to be. Needless to say, for a song that clocks in at a little over seven minutes, Dylan is killing quite a few birds with one incredibly large stone.

He runs the gamut of issues in his life, as if he almost has a lyrical checklist that he is working with. This is one of the most enduring and timeless Dylan cuts, and has a universal and generationless (Real word, no?) appeal, which is very refreshing for an artist so closely defined with 1960's Counter-Culture, which is slightly curious since Bob Dylan was never a Hippie and actually came to the attention of "The Young People" during those last few years of The Beat Generation, if you will. Also, so often is there complaints waged against Bob's singing or lack thereof, but what we have here then is a song that only Dylan could do justice to, it's a situation where Peter, Paul & Mary just wouldn't fit the bill. Bob's growl on this cut is unmistakable and undeniably good. Every aspect of the instrumentation on this cut just seems to reinforce the intensity of the lyrical content, and the song's chorus is like a dark mantra from Hell.

You won't find any goofy lead guitar solo on "Idiot Wind," as Bob, as already mentioned, has quite a lot to get off of his chest. Of course, you wouldn't expect anything less than near-perfect from a track featured on the epic "Blood On The Tracks," and while I love a great many Bob Dylan songs, like "Jokerman," for example. And while I may even prefer "Nashville Skyline" as an album on the whole, the rough and tumble, strangeness and darkness that is "Blood On The Tracks" contains one of the most thoughtful and intense songs in the history of Pop. And here we have a rather powerful live version:

The Crystal Ship by The Doors

When one takes the time to ponder The Doors, they think about breaking on through to the other side or lighting various fires, oh my brothers. But, no, not I. The song which I feel is the very best by this now much reviled Psychedelic Rock outfit would have to be the curious and strange "The Crystal Ship." Just what is this little tune exactly? A generic prom song? A longing love song with lyrical stress that somehow conjures up Edgar Allan Poe? One ultimately tends to wonder, believe me you. Others celebrate the latter day Doors music found on albums like "Morrison Hotel" and "LA Woman," which is fine, as they are quite apt at Blues Rock much as they were earlier in their career as Jazz Rockers and Acid Rockers with an impressive improvisational bent in a live setting.

However, it is still that first self-titled record that is most revered to this day, and even amongst those who may very much dislike the band for the most part. And it is on that record then, that "The Crystal Ship" is contained. In fact, I believe it was the B-side to the "Light My Fire" single. This is such a curious and other worldly jam that it almost somehow gathers a timeless quality that is not easily expressed in words or even in the sacred poodle alphabet. Is this a fleeting love song in a shanty town? Because I am at a loss here, people. Jim Morrison almost sounds like a cheesy '70's Pop Ballad dork, but so be it. This is essentially the opposite of some of The Doors more muscular songs like "Five to One." I must admit that I much prefer the Light Rock variation of The Doors, as it is just naturally more tuneful and melodic, and the sort of cut that made The Lizard King quite impressive on the Teen Idol circuit in the late '60's.

Here we have a song that has nothing to do with The Doors musical trademarks, no bizarre extended poetry, no eleven minute Psychedelic freak-out, not even any standard Jazz or Blues Rock. This is a Pop Ballad with dark lyrical content that is uplifted by a beautiful piano melody and minimalist percussion. The guitar casually strums away as Morrison does his best Mel Tormé. Enjoy, you whimsical romantics:

"Meth of a Rockette's Kick" - Mercury Rev

Ba ba ba bap...ba! Ba ba baba ba!

One of my favorite opening tracks of all time comes from Mercury Rev's fractured 1993 messterpiece "Boces". I'm a sucker for good "ba ba ba" harmonies, and the way this harmony-laden hazy stew fades in just kills me. There's a flute in there, somewhere. I wish I had a flute. The beginning of 10 minute song is just a blurry mess of melody and fuzz, a brilliant fader. Original singer David Baker mumbles song stuff I can't quite make out, but I suppose it's better if you just view the voice as another instrument. And what an instrument it is!

Swirl. Fuzz. Mush. Repeat.


Submerge me in the water `till I'm free of all crime..." (I understand that much.)

At almost 2 minutes, the stunning guitar noise makes an entry, as Baker mumbles about holes in his head. Any fan of early-90's Flaming Lips is familiar with that classic Jonathon Donahue guitar tone - not quite noise, not quite music. It's fuzzy, dreamy reverb-drenched...mesmerizing and terrifying textures.

"I'm free!"

But wait, we're back to the opening slime! The harps and horns coexist in stunning harmony, like marshmallows on a green ocean. The second verse brings us one step closer to psychedelic moksha.

"Make it connect! Make it connect! Make it come true!"

And there's a second chorus, of course. It's not all that different from the first, is it? But it's bigger, bolder and sublime. It serves as a gateway drug into the guitar solo of sorst, as Jonathon Donahue bleeds his noise all over the place, right on top of that gorgeous horn flute solo. But at about 4:47 the noisy absolutely consumes the track, the "ba ba ba ba!"s come back! It's god, ween, and satan all in one!

I'm free!

The flutes break saves us from the madness, but at 7:00 everything comes together in a jazzy freak-out mess. Who the fuck invited the school choir? And the ghost of Coltrane? What the hell are they chanting? Why are my boxers what?

The song ends with noise. The type of noise that makes one think they can breathe underwater.

At some point, David Baker went mad (I assume?) and Mr. Donahue went on to lead the group to their true album masterpiece, 1995's "See You On The Other Side". However, they never topped this wondrous song. I am a better person for hearing it, and so are you.