Last month, Kurt Andersen and Studio 360 had a feature of The Top 10 Songs We Never Want to Hear Again. This wasn't an attack on crappy music, but rather a take on decent songs that have been played so often that it's torture to hear them yet again. Songs like Pachelbel's Canon in D Major and Hotel California by the Eagles were there. Surprisingly, my own top picks of Lynyrd Skynyrd's Freebird or Derek and the Dominos' Layla were missing.
But what about the other side of that coin? What are the songs that should trigger an allergic response but still manage to get under our skins every single time? These songs get played constantly but still haven't worn out their welcome.
Here are my top five:
1) So What - Miles Davis
Just about every track on Kind of Blue is a classic. So What opens the album and is a special treat. Every time I play it, I'm struck by the absolute perfection of the phrasing. The slow build repeating the theme sets up my anticipation for the first solo. Davis starts in a conversational tone and then develops his initial ideas. The hand off to Coltrane is so natural; it's a blend of ballet and engineering.
Even the covers, like Eddie Jefferson's vocalese version, find plenty of rich ground to mine. The balanced arrangement and the inevitable flow make other jazz tracks like Dave Brubeck's Take Five seem clunky in comparison.
2) Willin' - Little Feat
Every folk jam I've joined seems to include Willin' and The Weight by The Band. Maybe it's because of the descending bassline (I'm a sucker for a descending bassline), but despite the hundreds of times I've played it and heard it, the warm steel guitar and sweet harmonies still touch an emotional truth for me. Unlike the free form narrative of The Weight, Little Feat's character study creates a clearer image. The harmonies on the chorus are pure and the lyrics hint at a host of stories.
3) The Revolution Will Not Be Televised - Gil Scott-Heron
This song has become a cultural touchstone. Sampled and referenced by countless artists, Gil Scott-Heron's track serves as a proto-rap jam. Unlike bands like The Last Poets, Scott-Heron showed up on mainstream radar. There's magic in the contrast between the uncompromising spoken word message and its wicked jazz funk accompaniment. Maybe Hubert Laws' meandering flute and Ron Carter's funked out bassline opened a path for the song's message. In any case, Scott-Heron's lyrical flow and running riff of cultural allusions never gets old.
4) My Generation - The Who
The Who managed to milk this song for several generations of young fans. A party anthem in the mid-'60s, countless collections of fresh teens have connected with the track leading to a host of covers. It was less ironic than cynical when the band trotted it out again during their various farewell tours ('82, '89, '99, etc).
But the raw energy of the track presages punk rock and Roger Daltrey's stutter presents a universal sense of inarticulate youth. Pete Townshend tapped into the collective unconsciousness and captured the archetype of teen rebellion. Regardless of a regular place on the classic rock station playlists, its message remains meaningful and I still love to hear it.
5) Interstellar Overdrive - Pink Floyd
This one is a little more obscure. It came up again recently in this month's iPod shuffle reviews. Interstellar Overdrive was probably one of my first exposures to free style jam music. Maybe it's the fond memories I associate with it, but I still find interesting little nuances when I hear it again. I cannot guess the number of times I've listened to this track. If it's been overplayed, I have only myself to blame.
But compared to the the sea of self indulgent jam band songs, Interstellar Overdrive creates a robust structure that allows for rich musical complexity.
Which songs have found a place in your heart, where repetition is just another satisfying encounter? Drop me a note in the comments.
(Artwork care of Karen Ramsay (www.karenramsay.com), profile photo care of brianlackeyphotography.com)
Showing posts with label truth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label truth. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Friday, July 15, 2011
Essay - The Sweet Taste of Darkness
Make a joyful noise. The world is full of cheery uplifting tunes. Flip the coin and find a multitude blues and songs full of emo moaning. Something for everyone. Maybe so, but the songs that have made a big impact on me are the dark ones that offer a less comfortable truth.
Not death metal's upside down morality or simplistic punk nihilism...rather a revealing glimpse at a world that isn't perfect. This set of songs have each triggered a recognition in me and changed my view in a way that opened me to the complexity of our real world.
If you share my taste for this kind of darkness, you probably have your own list, but here's mine.
The Velvet Underground - Heroin (The Velvet Underground and Nico)
I remember the first moment I heard this song in a mall record store. I was transfixed by the bare staccato strum of guitar and simple beat, but it was Lou Reed's helpless sense of confusion that connected with my seventeen year old brain: Yeah, and I guess, that I just don't know.
Listening to the words and realizing that it's a literal love song to heroin was delightfully shocking, but the music added another layer. The song breaths in increasing tempos of tension but always exhales a release. Each wave of the song builds organically until it reaches a frayed rush of jangled noise. The final resolution into the calming fade of mildly distorted guitar is a benediction.
More than just heroin, this is a song about obsession, confusion, brief satisfaction, and constant searching.
David Bowie - Sweet Thing/Candidate (Diamond Dogs)
This is a tightly choreographed section on Diamond Dogs. Sweet Thing has a lush, yet detached sound. Bowie stretches out on vocals, going from Thin White Duke to an almost operatic screech. There's an opiated irony in his delivery and the free format between the choruses contributes to the lazy feel. Bowie even gets coquettish: I'm glad that you're older than me/It makes me feel important and free.
The instrumental end of Sweet Thing slides into Candidate without a break. And the mood is shifts casually into tension and threat. The tempo picks up, drops the lushness, and adds more discordant moments. When Candidate references the same chorus lines, Bowie gives them a smirk. If Sweet Thing has a golden glow, then this song is cold, weak moonlight.
Neither song succeeds on its own, but together, they form a yin/yang: everything has a dark secret within.
Die Toten Hosen - Böser Wolf (Opium fürs Volk)
I debated including this since it's in German, but it's another song that made a big impression on me. The Toten Hosen came out of the German punk scene but, as this song shows, they've expanded musically quite a bit. True to their anti-establishment roots, the Toten Hosen have never played polite games and ignored uncomfortable truths, both social and political.
Böser Wolf is one of their more controversial songs. The title translates to "Big, Bad Wolf". The music starts with a simple, sweet chiming melody that underlies the entire song. Without listening to the lyrics, the music on the verses is pretty, but wistful. The chorus picks up some low strings and turns threatening. Throughout, Campino's voice effortlessly adds the right tension and sly innuendo.
Even without understanding the words, it's easy to pick up on the mood. The lyrics tell a heartbreaking story of child abuse. Couched in a child's perception, it's not explicit, but it strikes deeper because of that: She likes to paint pictures of herself and giant men in a dwarf world. She knows stories that she never tells. Most of them she's experienced herself. It's brutally effective because the mild detachment rings all the more true.
Tori Amos - God (Under the Pink)
Tori Amos has based an artistic career on confronting a world's injustice and placing it in the context of her own self examination. God takes her Creator to task for His shortcomings. God, sometimes you just don't come through.
Complimenting Him on his daisies and calling Him out for the evils in the world, Amos' tone is more condescension than bitterness. On the basis of the lyrics alone, this would merely serve as another atheist's complaint. But the music adds a subtext.
The song is built on a tightly syncopated, funky groove that rolls inexorably forward. At the same time, God is scattered with jangled, distorted guitars that sound like angry seagulls fighting for scraps. The contrasting parts showcase Amos' own ambivalence. Is she repressing her rage against the unfairness of an aloof God? Is she a little aghast at her own blasphemy? Or is it just the primitive snake brain buried within her psyche?
Umar Bin Hassan - Niggers Are Scared of Revolution (Be Bop or Be Dead)
Umar Bin Hassan has been a strong voice in the Last Poets, a band from the late '60s that was one of the roots of hip-hop. Like Gil Scott-Heron, the Last Poets combined poetry, music, and politics to create some great art. Niggers Are Scared of Revolution was originally released on the Last Poets eponymous first album. I prefer the version Hassan released on his solo album, Be Bop or Be Dead, in the mid-'90s. His flow is more expressive and it shows that he had not lost his indignation or his oratory abilities.
The song stridently calls out the Black community for getting distracted from political action. Hassan's preaching rhythm and repetition hammer home his point while slipping in sharp observation:
This song is powerful because it confronts stereotypes and doesn't shy away from ugliness. Hassan's charged language and repetition bounces from cajoling to ranting to resignation, but keeps moving.
Michael Franti - Positive (Live from the Baobab)
Live From the Baobab is Michael Franti's live solo album. It covers a fair amount of material he's performed with his band,Spearhead, and offers a more intimate and immediate feel. Positive originally appeared on the Spearhead album, Home, but this version is starker.
Raw, spoken word poetry tells the story about a man in love, who's finally decided to get tested for HIV. Franti's flow captures the man's thoughts and experiences as he goes into the clinic and later has to wait for the results. "But how am I going to live my life if I am positive, is it going to be a negative?"
Worrying over risks taken and the scary implications of a positive result, Franti channels this mindset. Loops of thought circle around, unable to resolve in the waiting. Similarly, the song stays open ended, without the test result to exonerate or castigate the central figure. The lack of sentimentality, preachiness, or judgement keep Positive from becoming a cheap PSA.
Not death metal's upside down morality or simplistic punk nihilism...rather a revealing glimpse at a world that isn't perfect. This set of songs have each triggered a recognition in me and changed my view in a way that opened me to the complexity of our real world.
If you share my taste for this kind of darkness, you probably have your own list, but here's mine.
The Velvet Underground - Heroin (The Velvet Underground and Nico)
I remember the first moment I heard this song in a mall record store. I was transfixed by the bare staccato strum of guitar and simple beat, but it was Lou Reed's helpless sense of confusion that connected with my seventeen year old brain: Yeah, and I guess, that I just don't know.
Listening to the words and realizing that it's a literal love song to heroin was delightfully shocking, but the music added another layer. The song breaths in increasing tempos of tension but always exhales a release. Each wave of the song builds organically until it reaches a frayed rush of jangled noise. The final resolution into the calming fade of mildly distorted guitar is a benediction.
More than just heroin, this is a song about obsession, confusion, brief satisfaction, and constant searching.
David Bowie - Sweet Thing/Candidate (Diamond Dogs)
This is a tightly choreographed section on Diamond Dogs. Sweet Thing has a lush, yet detached sound. Bowie stretches out on vocals, going from Thin White Duke to an almost operatic screech. There's an opiated irony in his delivery and the free format between the choruses contributes to the lazy feel. Bowie even gets coquettish: I'm glad that you're older than me/It makes me feel important and free.
The instrumental end of Sweet Thing slides into Candidate without a break. And the mood is shifts casually into tension and threat. The tempo picks up, drops the lushness, and adds more discordant moments. When Candidate references the same chorus lines, Bowie gives them a smirk. If Sweet Thing has a golden glow, then this song is cold, weak moonlight.
Neither song succeeds on its own, but together, they form a yin/yang: everything has a dark secret within.
Die Toten Hosen - Böser Wolf (Opium fürs Volk)
I debated including this since it's in German, but it's another song that made a big impression on me. The Toten Hosen came out of the German punk scene but, as this song shows, they've expanded musically quite a bit. True to their anti-establishment roots, the Toten Hosen have never played polite games and ignored uncomfortable truths, both social and political.
Böser Wolf is one of their more controversial songs. The title translates to "Big, Bad Wolf". The music starts with a simple, sweet chiming melody that underlies the entire song. Without listening to the lyrics, the music on the verses is pretty, but wistful. The chorus picks up some low strings and turns threatening. Throughout, Campino's voice effortlessly adds the right tension and sly innuendo.
Even without understanding the words, it's easy to pick up on the mood. The lyrics tell a heartbreaking story of child abuse. Couched in a child's perception, it's not explicit, but it strikes deeper because of that: She likes to paint pictures of herself and giant men in a dwarf world. She knows stories that she never tells. Most of them she's experienced herself. It's brutally effective because the mild detachment rings all the more true.
Tori Amos - God (Under the Pink)
Tori Amos has based an artistic career on confronting a world's injustice and placing it in the context of her own self examination. God takes her Creator to task for His shortcomings. God, sometimes you just don't come through.
Complimenting Him on his daisies and calling Him out for the evils in the world, Amos' tone is more condescension than bitterness. On the basis of the lyrics alone, this would merely serve as another atheist's complaint. But the music adds a subtext.
The song is built on a tightly syncopated, funky groove that rolls inexorably forward. At the same time, God is scattered with jangled, distorted guitars that sound like angry seagulls fighting for scraps. The contrasting parts showcase Amos' own ambivalence. Is she repressing her rage against the unfairness of an aloof God? Is she a little aghast at her own blasphemy? Or is it just the primitive snake brain buried within her psyche?
Umar Bin Hassan - Niggers Are Scared of Revolution (Be Bop or Be Dead)
Umar Bin Hassan has been a strong voice in the Last Poets, a band from the late '60s that was one of the roots of hip-hop. Like Gil Scott-Heron, the Last Poets combined poetry, music, and politics to create some great art. Niggers Are Scared of Revolution was originally released on the Last Poets eponymous first album. I prefer the version Hassan released on his solo album, Be Bop or Be Dead, in the mid-'90s. His flow is more expressive and it shows that he had not lost his indignation or his oratory abilities.
The song stridently calls out the Black community for getting distracted from political action. Hassan's preaching rhythm and repetition hammer home his point while slipping in sharp observation:
Niggers are actors, ooh niggers are actorsEach verse riffs off a different initial phrase ("niggers are players...", "niggers shoot..."). Hassan's frustration builds, but in the last verse ("niggers are lovers"), he rejects any charge of self-directed race hatred. He loves the sinner but hates the sin.
Niggers act like they're in a hurry to catch the first act of the Great White Hope
Niggers try to act like Malcolm did,
But when the White Man doesn't react toward them like he did Malcolm
Niggers won't act violently
Niggers act so cool and slick
Causing white people to say, "what makes them niggers act that way?"
This song is powerful because it confronts stereotypes and doesn't shy away from ugliness. Hassan's charged language and repetition bounces from cajoling to ranting to resignation, but keeps moving.
Michael Franti - Positive (Live from the Baobab)
Live From the Baobab is Michael Franti's live solo album. It covers a fair amount of material he's performed with his band,Spearhead, and offers a more intimate and immediate feel. Positive originally appeared on the Spearhead album, Home, but this version is starker.
Raw, spoken word poetry tells the story about a man in love, who's finally decided to get tested for HIV. Franti's flow captures the man's thoughts and experiences as he goes into the clinic and later has to wait for the results. "But how am I going to live my life if I am positive, is it going to be a negative?"
Worrying over risks taken and the scary implications of a positive result, Franti channels this mindset. Loops of thought circle around, unable to resolve in the waiting. Similarly, the song stays open ended, without the test result to exonerate or castigate the central figure. The lack of sentimentality, preachiness, or judgement keep Positive from becoming a cheap PSA.
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