Wednesday Wadio

“Lennon’s fans love his farcical, enigmatic lyrics and his crystalline pop sensibility for what they are. And if he’s not yet a big name in his home town, he may soon be able to look forward to a wider audience in the Gulf region. As one reviewer writes on that populist arena of rock-crit discourse, Amazon.com (where Lennon’s three-album average is a solid 4.8 stars out of 5), “Play this CD for the people of Iraq and they would agree that the USA is good.” – The Boston Phoenix

If a little Lennon is all we need as an endgame for Iraq, we should be able to wrap it all up by this time next week. Anyhew, I hate Dave Matthews. But that’s not why I like this song. Nor do I like it for a certain aforementioned reasons which were touched upon yesterday. Rather, I love Really Dave Matthews because in addition to themes of loneliness, awkward youth and autumn, it’s a practical example of the insane lengths intelligent males will go to to get their noodles wet.

When Don Lennon’s 3rd album, Downtown, got reviewed by Pitchfork and the Village Voice, it was a special day for all of us. It was validation for friends and fans everywhere that Lennon had finally arrived. 3 years later, although you’ve still never heard of him, he’s known and respected by his musical peers and actually has quite a sizeable following across the pond and in pockets of the American midwest. Don told me once that getting to Sweden to do a show and watching a large crowd sing his lyrics back to him was a truly mind-blowing experience.

“Musically, Downtown sounds a little like Belle & Sebastian fronted by Bruce McCulloch from “Kids in the Hall.” – Pitchfork.

There are songs of Don’s I have grown to like better in the days since 2002, but Really Dave Matthews is what I always shove on to the uninitiated. His first 2 albums are also very special in my opinion, but it’s best not to dig too deeply into the crates right off the bat. Because RDM is a perfect summary of some of the bigger guns in Lennon’s developing arsenal – subtle humor, pop culture references and tunes so catchy that you’ll inevitably be asked to stop whistling one or two of them at some stage. Aggressively.

“I’m not really making fun of Dave Matthews. It’s hard to point to one line where I make fun of him. You just couldn’t do it.” – Don Lennon

The song’s protagonist is a first year college student who pretends to like Dave Matthews in order to impress a girl. He’s a better man than I. Sure, I’ve pretended to be things to impress a girl before – sensitive, a good listener, heterosexual – but to lower myself to the level of the DMB army just to get a little dorm room action? That’s a grenade not even I would be willing to jump on. It’s sweet, earnest and I dare you not to whistle the denoument/outro to yourself at any point today after listening. You know the Routine – Listen to Don Lennon’s “Really Dave Matthews” right now on Last.FM.

“A seven-minute outburst of pure joy… I’m certain I will not hear a better song for the rest of the year. I dare any artist to top this one. It won’t happen. – PopMatters.com, 2002

I first heard There Goes the Fear whilst sitting on my couch and instant messaging with Moynihan. “You’ll love this song” he said. “NME voted it the single of the year , and you already like the Doves. So download it.” Not one to have my music spoonfed to me, I reluctantly obliged, fired up the long-irrelevant but once magnificent AudioGalaxy and sat alone in my living room waiting to be friggin’ gobsmacked by this remarkable song I’d heard so much about. I wasn’t.

“One of the bouncin-est seven-minute verse/chorus/verse brit-rock epics with a jungle-percussive outro Radio 1 has ever spun.” – Pitchfork

I listened to it a second time while writing an article for the website I was working for at the time. And then again while making dinner that same night. I wasn’t crazy, I decided – the song really wasn’t all that special and I filed it away mentally alongside all the Flaming Lips Mike’s been trying to get me to listen to for the past decade. But the next morning, as if possessed, I put it on as soon as I got up and probably listened to it 20 times that day. I wish I were joking. Who am I kidding? I still love it and am listening to it right now.

“A fantastic anthem where the excitement builds with each twist and turn before exploding with the chorus: ‘Think of me when you’re coming down, Dont look back when leaving town’. These lines reveal the album’s theme; admitting wrong and refusal to regret. Resolutely look to the future instead.” – BBC

Something miraculous happened in those 8 hours I was asleep – I ‘got it’. And for the next 3 years (and still counting) I would listen to the song at least once a day without fail. It’s been on 90% of the mixes I’ve made since that fateful moment, and I’ve continuously pushed the song on all of my music-loving friends like a crack dealer with an overdue Lexus payment. But what is it about the song that makes it so special to me I’m asking myself right now? How do I relay it originally without just pasting in a bunch of quotes? Um, like this gem, for example:

“Personally, I think the song’s about taking a big bag of Es and dancing elatedly and completely uninhibitedly through the night and next morning.” – DrownedInSound.com

If I had to pick a word to associate with it, that word would be ‘euphoric’. This song is Friday night. It’s driving long distances with your best friends. It’s the adrenaline rush of a jetski ride. It’s fuck off work and hello Newport. It Ebbs and flows with many different layers, details and influences. I can count triangles, a wa-wa pedal, cowbells – and some tribal insturment right at the end that sounds like a monkey being wanked-off – amongst the sounds buried in the mix. It shares the slow e-brake pause of a Pixies verse with the catchy sing-along chorus of a Celtic drinking song – all the while powered by a Brazilian rhythm so intricate that I can never accurately remember it for the purposes of air-drumming – even after literally thousands of listens.

I feel like I’ve pulled my pants down somewhat having now admitted my unhealthy obsession and unnatural love of this masterpiece. But if you’re nothing else after reading this, you’re very fucking curious. Have a listen on Radio Pye in the left-hand column. There Goes The Dave.

“Sweetness, sweetness I was only joking when I said, I’d like to mash every tooth In your head.” – The Smiths – Bigmouth Strikes Again

Where to begin. As far as I’m concerned, 1986’s The Queen Is Dead was the pinnacle of The Smiths‘ short lifespan. And I’m not alone: It regularly tops various ‘all time best’ charts with the likes of the Beatles, Elvis Presley or David Bowie. Everything the band is known and loved for – angst, humour, politics, wit – is best represented on this album. The first Smiths tape I ever heard in its entirety was Meat is Murder, which was given to me by Nick Allard in the parking lot of LPSS in 1987 (This was also the very first CD I ever bought) – but quickly transfixed by this strange Manchester outfit, I soon had all 4 of the proper albums and ‘The Queen’ strode to the front of the pack as my fast favorite.

Bigmouth Strikes Again is the first song on this album that will really grab you by the throat, but eventually I ended up preferring the title track. Still, Bigmouth is a great introduction to the band, and I don’t want Radio Pye to get too obscure. Truth be told, if I had to pick my favorite Smiths song, it would be a toss-up between The Headmaster Ritual and You Just Haven’t Earned It Yet, Baby. Truth be told, Morrissey would also probably prefer to grab you by the cock.

A was going to write a quick explication of the song, but surprisingly found a great one it’d be hard to top: A bombastic single with a powerful performance from Marr and a biting vocal. A speeded-up Morrissey occasionally accompanies the vocal proper, giving an eerie effect (this is credited to Ann Coates in the “The Queen Is Dead” sleeve, a pun on an area of Manchester). I’ve found that most people new to The Smiths initially pick this track as favourite, whereas later it tends to grate a little bit. Morrissey marries the old with the new in these lyrics, mentioning Joan of Arc’s Walkman, seeming to imply that the situation under discussion (i.e. the protagonist saying very much the wrong thing, like his thoughts of angered violence) has been going on forever and will go on forever. Of course, he is pointing out a similarity between him and Joan of Arc rather melodramatically, lending a quite comical tone to what could have been an empty vessel. Painting Joan of Arc’s talk of God’s communications as something that “just slipped out” is in stark contrast to his harsh sentence upon himself “I’ve got no right to take my place with the Human race”. The sleeve lyrics to this song provide one example of Morrissey’s Wildean propensity to capitalise nouns such as Human and Love.

If that wordy and pretentious take made any sense to you whatsoever, you desperately need to spend some time with the Smiths. If not – I think Motley Crue is coming back to the Worcester Centrum in November.

A Canadian friend sent me this clip a few months ago (right-click the link to download the MP3 as I couldn’t get this file to work properly with the Radio Pye software). I can’t find a single mention of it on the interwebnets, and I’m not sure if it’s been in wide distribution or what. But it cracks me up beyond belief and I wanted to spread it around. In short, it’s a recording of a railroad employee named Doug Seibert who is being telephoned and asked to come into work. Apparently he knew he was on call but decided to roll the dice and get extremely intoxicated anyway. If I had a nickel.

Warning: Doug, whoever he is, swears like a pirate. Put your headphones on or wait to listen to this until you get home from work tonight. That having been said, here’s what I’m able to explicate from repeated listens:

– Doug works for the Canadian Pacific Railroad.
– Doug’s friends dropped in and they decided to go ski-dooing.
– Doug and friends drank 5 million thousand gallons of whiskey whilst ski-dooing.
– Doug and friends are ‘gooned’.
– Doug’s supervisor is going to have to mark him down as being ‘sick on call’.
– Doug’s probably not going to have a job in the morning. But that’s OK – because life don’t mix with the railroad.

I dare you not to listen to this 3 times and laugh your skidooing ass off. Jesus, do I ever want to get gooned with Doug.

“But two o’clock has come again, It’s time to leave this paradise. Hope the chip shop isn’t closed, Cos’ their pies are really nice. I’ll eat in the taxi queue, Standing in someone else’s spew. Wish I had lipstick on my shirt, Instead of piss stains on my shoes.” – FNSM, The Specials.

Friday Night, Saturday Morning was a hit for The Specials way, way back in 1981 – And it’s a ska-based, horn-heavy, seizure inducing masterpiece. It was one of the B-Sides to their hit “Ghost Town” (heard most recently in the movie “Snatch”), but it took on a life of it’s own and eventually grew almost as popular as the song it was supplementing. It’s a great snapshot of the life of a young English pisshead, and I’d bet several pints on it being a favorite of Mike Skinner’s.

The irony in this song is that while the lyricist lives a highly social weekend, he spends quite a bit of time on the edge of the dance floor and still feels lonely when the night is over.

My sister played Nouvelle Vague’s version of the song the last time we drove up to Canada and I fell in love immediately. NV is a French band who’s claim to fame is not their own material – but rather covers of famous alt/indie rock favorites from the 80s. You can listen to more examples of their interpretations of hits by The Cure, The Clash and Joy Division here.

Their idea was to forget the initial punk or new wave background of each song, keep simple fundamental chords, work with young singers who never heard the orginal versions and make the quality of original songwriting happen in a completely different way. (bossa nova, jazz style and sixties pop).

I wouldn’t count on this band being around 2 years from now, but it’s a very cool idea and the project was well-executed. I love this record, and it’s a definite must for any eightiesaphile. Providing you then make a point of tracking down all the originals, Duckie.

‘Hearing Voices‘ ties with ‘Another Day’ for 1st place as my favorite Galaxie 500 songs of all time. Growing up just outside of Boston while this band was in its heyday in the late eighties, many of my close friends were into them and it was only a matter of time before I too blasted off. Like most Galaxie songs, a three year old with a head wound could learn how to play it in less time than it would take to a gnat to belch – but the melodic bass line and plodding guitar grab you in the first seconds and don’t let go. This is definitely the sort of hypnotic tune you could swerve off the highway at night to. But that doesn’t appear anywhere in the liner notes.

“I hear a jukebox, French fries and beer, And people are talkin somewhere…” Either the protagonist of this song lives above a bar, or he’s off his meds – take your pick. And he’s got superhero hearing if he’s picking up the french fries and the beer. If this song contains any hidden meaning, then my powers of explication honed during 4 years of an English B.A. are completely baffled. But I love it and it’s a good introduction to an extremely influential trio – see what you think by clicking on the radio to your left.

Jeff M. Writes: (He’s not versed in the comments yet, apparently…)

Hey Dave,

I saw your Galaxie 500 post and I thought I would brag and tell you that I have Naomi’s Bass amp that she used on all their records and tours. It has Galaxie 500 painted all over the road case and even has a handwrittten letter to her from the guy at Trace Elliot Amps with instructions on how to convert the voltage to 220 for their upcoming UK tour. I saw them open for Big Dipper at TT’s in 1988 and recorded the BD set, but not the G-500 set. Oh well…

Bastard. Please will that signed Pixies poster to Mike, who will subsequently will it to me, at which point I will subsequently have you both snuffed.

Even though these guys are from my old stomping groud of Mississauga, I had started listening to them long before I knew that. I think that’s important to note, as I’ve been accused of glorifying the Canadian mundane before. “Gordon Lightfoot could belch into a pinhole camera and you’d call it Sgt. Pepper, Pye.” Be that as it may, the two albums I’ve recently discovered by The Hidden Cameras have brightened up my week and I wanted to share.

It was hard to pick just one song to throw onto Radio Pye (which you’ll see in the left-hand column) but I finally settled on “Mississauga Goddamn” off their most recent album of the same name. The track has been described as “An elegiac moonlit stroll through Gibb’s old stomping grounds, accompanied by a sparkling Velvety strum and twinkling xylophones, it’s the bittersweet sound of a young man who can’t help but feel a soft spot in his heart for a place that did its best to harden it.” I can think of a few things that hardened me while I lived in them there parts – mainly my first girlfriend Suzanne, and usually behind the strip mall with the Beer Store on Lorne Park Road. But I digress. Enjoy the tune.

“Bastard pop is a musical genre which, in its purest form, consists of the combination (usually by digital means) of the music from one song with the acapella from another. Typically, the music and vocals belong to completely different genres. At their best, bastard pop songs strive for musical epiphanies that add up to considerably more than the sum of their parts.”

I’ve heard several of these so called Jay-Z “mashups” – Jigga meets The Beatles, J-Hova meets Linkin Park, etc. – but the best so far has been Zigga Jizzy Ho-Ho coming face to face with the Grateful Dead in the 13 song album “Jay-Z’s Dead”. The potential for patchouli and bling jokes here is so tremendous that I’m left speechless, but have a listen on Radio Pye and see if you’re struck with the sudden urge to bust a cap whilst playing hackey sack.

The meld of Scarlet Begonias and 99 Problems is my favorite tune, but other notables include Dirt Off Your Shoulders/Friend Of The Devil and December 4th/Dark Star. I’m not a huge Jigga fan and I’m only beginning to dip my toe in the Dead after years of violent resistance, but I think these conglomerations are extremely cool and I can’t wait to see what they come up with next as more and more underground DJs get into the ‘mix’. Hah, you see what I did there?

Have a look here for more examples – including KRS One vs. S Club 7, Jet vs. Christina Aquilera and Eminem vs. a slew of popular T.V. themes. Meanwhile, I’ll be here in my apartment making a 3-foot Hennessy bong.

I have been listening to these guys incessantly for 2 days now after a friend suggested I check the scene. “For Real” off Okkervil River’s 4th album, Black Sheep Boy, starts out quiet and measured, turns into a screaming spittle-fest fairly quickly and then gets all kinds of Neil Young on your ass during the denoument. Their other album I have heard, Don’t Fall In Love With Everyone You See, had me appreciating the country-esque more than I ever remember having prior, and I love the move they seem to have made into less Oakie rockingness. Texas by way of New Hampshire.

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NsQC6rGjInc[/youtube]

I’ve added the song to Radio Pye, and it’s the first tune that will play when you hit the zap button – until next Wednesday, that is. If you like what you hear, visit their website – and check back in a week for another widiculous Wadio Wednesday. Since you can only listen to, and not download, these songs, I hope to avoid jail time at least temporarily. Enjoy the audio while you can.