Gun Club – Humanesque
I have decided to kick off my 90s with a track that truly harks back to the previous decade as so many early 90s tracks did. For me, Gun Club are and were one of the best bands of the 1980s, having had their most outstanding moments back then, but personally I feel they deserve to get a track in the 90s too. Jeffrey Lee Pierce is one of the greatest lyricists of all time and Humanesque is littered with great lines. JLP managed to churn these out like a great lyrics factory for around sixteen years, before his timely/untimely (delete where appropriate) death. JLP was already suffering from serious health problems, all of them pretty much of his own making, and therefore it was surprising he had made it to the 90s, dragging himself through the haze of sour whisky and cheap drugs like the true veteran of the music world that he was. Humanesque doesn’t have the ferociousness of early Gun Club albums, the grandeur of the Las Vegas Story nor the accomplished sound of Mother Juno; but it’s still a beautifully layered track and a great demonstration of JLP’s talent when his health was failing.
Pixies – Velouria
My first experience of hearing the Pixies was during my early teens. Just as my brother Jim had done with his discovery of my dad’s collection of Captain Beefheart, I laughed at the music and found it bizarre and crazy (Broken Face, I’ve Been Tired, Vamos); always the sign of a great band. Even though the albums the Pixies made in the 80s are my favourites, there were so many songs to choose from in this decade alone. Velouria, an instantly recognisable track with its velvety opening riff, theremin, and intriguing intro, is a shimmering example of the Pixies’ ability to twist a simple melody into a haunting, lonely, romantic pop song. The song takes me on a journey…I’m standing on a beach, all alone, it’s dark and I’m staring out into the black where sea meets space, moon dancing on the waves, with Velouria on an old-fashioned record player, recollecting old times, wondering what’s out there. Maybe it’s that escapism that I enjoy so much in this song that made me put Velouria forward as a favourite. Those disagreeing with anything or everything that I’m writing here, can do just that to their heart’s content (Konrad rubs his hands with glee, thinking “don’t worry, I will”). Brushing fancy writing and justification violently aside, I just really like this song and that’s why it’s here.
Blur – Sing
If it weren’t apparent to me enough by the first song, something is now staring me clearly in the face. This whole process is so bloody nostalgic, which I know is the point, but nevertheless it’s hard to know, using the whole ‘Death of the Author’ concept, whether the tracks I have chosen are actually nostalgic or whether they are nostalgic because of my experiences of them. My third track of the 90s stems from the Leeds Music Festival. During an outstanding performance from the Colchester boys, Blur played an amazing, spine-tingling version of Sing, famous partly for its appearance on Trainspotting, and at that moment then, I fell in love with the song. Sing is quite simply a beautiful, drawn-out, shoegazing behemoth of a track. When considering possibilities from Blur, I would have hardly thought of ‘Sing’ as my immediate standout favourite. It was only when recently, whilst making my way through my iPod A-Z, album by album, that I heard this track for the first time in a long time. It doesn’t have the rock-out factor of Song2 or Trimm Trabb, it’s not a pop classic like so many tracks off Parklife or the Great Escape, however, it does inhabit some of the same musical terrain of This Is A Low. It is a track that stirs the soul. The repeated piano chord progression never allows the song to steer away from its melancholic path and I love how the song travels though moments of emptiness to brimming full, with its staccato beat almost driving it to complete collapse during each chorus, before once again fading away into near darkness.
I have decided to kick off my 90s with a track that truly harks back to the previous decade as so many early 90s tracks did. For me, Gun Club are and were one of the best bands of the 1980s, having had their most outstanding moments back then, but personally I feel they deserve to get a track in the 90s too. Jeffrey Lee Pierce is one of the greatest lyricists of all time and Humanesque is littered with great lines. JLP managed to churn these out like a great lyrics factory for around sixteen years, before his timely/untimely (delete where appropriate) death. JLP was already suffering from serious health problems, all of them pretty much of his own making, and therefore it was surprising he had made it to the 90s, dragging himself through the haze of sour whisky and cheap drugs like the true veteran of the music world that he was. Humanesque doesn’t have the ferociousness of early Gun Club albums, the grandeur of the Las Vegas Story nor the accomplished sound of Mother Juno; but it’s still a beautifully layered track and a great demonstration of JLP’s talent when his health was failing.
Pixies – Velouria
My first experience of hearing the Pixies was during my early teens. Just as my brother Jim had done with his discovery of my dad’s collection of Captain Beefheart, I laughed at the music and found it bizarre and crazy (Broken Face, I’ve Been Tired, Vamos); always the sign of a great band. Even though the albums the Pixies made in the 80s are my favourites, there were so many songs to choose from in this decade alone. Velouria, an instantly recognisable track with its velvety opening riff, theremin, and intriguing intro, is a shimmering example of the Pixies’ ability to twist a simple melody into a haunting, lonely, romantic pop song. The song takes me on a journey…I’m standing on a beach, all alone, it’s dark and I’m staring out into the black where sea meets space, moon dancing on the waves, with Velouria on an old-fashioned record player, recollecting old times, wondering what’s out there. Maybe it’s that escapism that I enjoy so much in this song that made me put Velouria forward as a favourite. Those disagreeing with anything or everything that I’m writing here, can do just that to their heart’s content (Konrad rubs his hands with glee, thinking “don’t worry, I will”). Brushing fancy writing and justification violently aside, I just really like this song and that’s why it’s here.
Blur – Sing
If it weren’t apparent to me enough by the first song, something is now staring me clearly in the face. This whole process is so bloody nostalgic, which I know is the point, but nevertheless it’s hard to know, using the whole ‘Death of the Author’ concept, whether the tracks I have chosen are actually nostalgic or whether they are nostalgic because of my experiences of them. My third track of the 90s stems from the Leeds Music Festival. During an outstanding performance from the Colchester boys, Blur played an amazing, spine-tingling version of Sing, famous partly for its appearance on Trainspotting, and at that moment then, I fell in love with the song. Sing is quite simply a beautiful, drawn-out, shoegazing behemoth of a track. When considering possibilities from Blur, I would have hardly thought of ‘Sing’ as my immediate standout favourite. It was only when recently, whilst making my way through my iPod A-Z, album by album, that I heard this track for the first time in a long time. It doesn’t have the rock-out factor of Song2 or Trimm Trabb, it’s not a pop classic like so many tracks off Parklife or the Great Escape, however, it does inhabit some of the same musical terrain of This Is A Low. It is a track that stirs the soul. The repeated piano chord progression never allows the song to steer away from its melancholic path and I love how the song travels though moments of emptiness to brimming full, with its staccato beat almost driving it to complete collapse during each chorus, before once again fading away into near darkness.
Well, to be perfectly honest with you, so far so good :) The Gun Club is a band that I've grown to respect, Blur's offering is actually very much like other things I really like and even the Pixies show that to every rule there is an exception. And as for me, allegedly, criticising everything and everyone, the only thing that made me mildly nauseous was that drivel about standing on the beach :> I know that one man's shite is another man's Slint, but hey, be fair, you should remember better how much of the musical taste we actually SHARE ;)
ReplyDeleteI know that bit about the beach is nauseous drivel, but it's the image that came into my head, so I described it. I thought about omitting it every time I read back through what I had written. I know we share a lot of music taste and it wouldn't be anywhere near as much fun if all had the same taste and kissed ass whilst sucking one another off. I was so tempted by Lucky Jim from Gun Club and who knows, maybe there are other Pixies songs out there that you don't feel completely indifferent to? Bossanova is the album you would most likely enjoy. Francis Black was obsessed with sci-fi and aliens by this time and his songwriting was maturing. The emphasis was on melody and texture.
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