This song very rapidly and unexpectedly became my anthem for around the clock–walking to work, working, walking home, showering, and knowing me–singing it in my dreams. I never seek out Modest Mouse songs, they just sort of *find me* when I need them the most.
I think, in part, it was really the only appropriate theme song for my approaching-return-of-saturn apprehension. In general the lyrics are basically like, “if life isn’t gonna be a damn ball, then I’m fucking going down with it” hammered throughout with the “PLEASE bury me with it!” This was clicking really well with my nostalgic review of my 20’s–what was really rad that I don’t want to lose? What do I never want to experience ever, ever again? All underlined by Isaac Brock’s exasperated delivery of “I just don’t need none of that Mad Max bullshit.”
In terms of composition, the track has a lot of “regular visitors” from the Modest Mouse sound–not a bad thing. This quality helps you “feel like home” in many of their songs. I do love the little repeated bass licks in this track. It really helps keep it all moving forward. It’s also really fun to listen to how the drums and bass sort of flow in and out of each other–it’s very subtle, but is cool to focus on through a listen.
All in all, this is a great jam. In the same breath, I don’t know that I’d offer this as a first Modest Mouse song to a new listener. It’s sort of like your rowdy, drunk friend. They are a blast to hang out with, but it might be a little awkward to introduce them to a stranger before they sober up.
This song is so damn hypnotic. I considered not giving it a second shout out, since I’ve already reviewed it as new music–which, itself, was really just a redirect to the awesome Pfork review. BUT. It is really that fucking good.
I was already in love with it when I decided to make the purchase, and it has really blossomed into a steady obsession and is in the regular “pretend I’m a rock star in the shower” rotation. It has this slurry dubstep bass that just pulls at the raw part in my soul. This alone is enough to suck me into the jam time and again, but on top of that it has this beautiful sonic counterpoint of his soft, angelic melody floating through the verses–so that just as you are about to drift off into some falsetto induced reverie, you get hit with this deep, sludgy pounding that wakes you right the fuck up.
It really is a magic track. If you STILL haven’t listened, please. do. You won’t regret it, I promise. : D
This is a hilarious double header. I must say I haven’t been particularly nostalgic for my Sophomore year of high school of late, and yet my music obsessions this month would state otherwise. I have always been way more into Tool than H.I.M., so getting stuck on one of their songs isn’t too surprising. But! There are still a handful of H.I.M. songs that will make my heart go pitter-patter because that voice!! So perhaps this is just the tail end of this summer’s obsession with the “deep” boys of my collection. *shrug*
First up is “Bottom” by Tool. I have never been an enormous fan of Undertow. Is it momentous for 90’s rock/metal? Absolutely. It’s just not my favorite Tool flavor–with the exception of “Bottom.” I just cannot help singing along when he screams that first “dead inside.” (As a comical side effect of ripping this album from a friend, I had no idea the spoken part was Henry Rollins until…like this month. So I’ve always been really confused at why Maynard always sounds like such a dipdip in interviews when he sounds so manly here XD …I guess now I know.) Other than Maynard’s gorgeously powerful delivery of this song, I think another drive for my high play count was my recent reading of the lyrics, which I had never bothered to look into before. Frankly, I feel like they perfectly encompass the shitty angst of one’s late twenties. So perhaps I *couldn’t* have enjoyed this song fully until you know…shit started adding up at the bottom. lalala (As a second aside, if you have NEVER LISTENED TO TOOL for the love of God don’t let this be your first song lol. And if it must be, because now you’re curious… just realize that this song came out in ’93…so as cheesy as it may sound to our 2017 ears, it was very, very ahead of it’s time in many respects.)
Speaking of cheesy, guilty pleasures–H.I.M. Prepare thine guyliner. Can we just…for a minute…*goth drools* I have been very surprised to find that despite not being a 15 year old goth kid anymore, I still love the shit out of H.I.M. songs and I still find Ville Vallo’s pale, druggy-skinny, are-you-actually-a-vampire look really attractive. Honestly, I don’t think I have anything musically interesting to say about this song. They have chuggy, catchy rock/metal(ish) songs, but it’s really just Ville’s voice that carries them into something worth listening to over and over. So if you haven’t had the glorious pleasure of listening to “Right Here in My Arms” before (lol), go check out the video for it. You get to hear this great little jam and see Ville Vallo and the gang in peak goth-stardom sexiness (and pretend he’s singing to you : P).
All in all, there just aren’t that many guys who can go deep, ya know?? I like to appreciate the ones who do. BYE.
This song is HARD. I don’t mean a fun challenge. I mean it is a belter masterpiece. I have been intensely studying it for about 3 or 4 months and I have ONCE hit the belted high notes. For you non-singy people this is a different ball game from just singing “high” notes at a normal level. For example go try to sing the hook for “Only Girl (In the World)” by Rihanna at full force…kinda hard, huh? This is higher…
When I was pre-gaming for this post I wanted to rewatch this segment of The Bodyguard (the movie this song came from, in case you weren’t alive or live under a rock) and I noticed that the lip-sync performance in the movie does not imitate belting at all, which is utterly bizarre to watch. This prompted me to go watch some live performances on the YouTube to see just how much power she was actually using to sing this song. The answer is a fucking lot.
Which almost satiated my curiosity, and frankly my need for validation that this song is fucking hard…but. Video after video…after video…after video. Even the incredibly talented goddess of melisma HERSELF does not attempt to sing it as recorded for the studio album. In every live performance I’ve watched so far, they drop the key. This results in the song not sounding that much different, and to the average pop listener maybe not noticeable at all, but makes it much easier on the vocal chords because she doesn’t have to leap up to that incredible note on “close” of “don’t make me close one more door” while still leaping to a slightly more manageable note and sounding incredible (because she is). It’s a musical illusion that saves voices and embarrassment. (And by the way Rihanna does the same thing in her live performances of “Only Girl.”)
I bring this up not to disparage the approach, but rather to reinforce that these studio vocal gymnastics are HARD. We have no idea how many times it took these professionals to reach up there and make it happen for the record, so it’s kind of foolish to say “oh I’m no (insert Diva here)” –you might be!! Even they don’t hit those spectacular notes on most days, or reliably enough to bet on it in a live setting.
This is why “I Have Nothing” is such a demanding song that I obsess over. The crown jewel of The Bodyguard, her cover of “I Will Always Love You,” is beautiful and challenging in its own way; but “I Have Nothing” is the more stunning of the two. The gentle piano harmonies, the punching horns, all just caress the roller coaster of emotions. But to be honest, the musical accompaniment could be a dump truck pouring trash and I wouldn’t give a fuck–that voice is all I hear.
If you’ve never had the privilege, check out some of these live performances–she is brilliant.
Black Girl Magic: We go to 11.
This is one of my fav songs and occasionally I get re-addicted. For “12 Black Rainbows” this is sometimes more than once a year.
I first get hooked with the chugging guitars and “oh”s in the intro. The music itself, although good, is nothing especially unique to goth-metal. Almost every Type O song that I love is like 95% Peter Steele being an amazingly seductive vocalist and lyricist. To me, this is the gothy equivalent of “let’s get fucked up.” By the time I hit the wind up of the bridge’s “cause I’m already dead,” it’s just like pass me the bottle, let’s thrash. Elephants are a nice touch.
I don’t really have much deeper thoughts than that. Just go fucking listen to it on YouTube or something; or hell, go buy it! You won’t regret it. Even if you “don’t like metal;” just do it.
Here is a funny thing about bass singers for the road. Also can we just take a moment to appreciate the Peter Steele was 6′ motherfucking 8″ ??? Lawd.
5/5 always and forever
This may have actually been the “on repeat” from August…or September…or October. Who fucking knows; life has been wild lately.
On the surface, this track has a lot of the acid-dripping markers of a typical Animal Collective scream-tinged song BUT there is actually a coherent storyline, or rather, picture being painted. If you cruise YouTube for live versions of Avey Tare, he is clearly behind most of the manic-anxious-obsessive/nostalgic themes (and it’s really obvious that album production involves a lot of taking his wild roars down a notch or five). Incidentally his lyrics are usually the ones that make any fucking sense at all. *heart*
There is a lot of juxtaposition happening between the bright electronic loops and steel drum parts and the very tangible bitter surrender to the current-of-life in lines like “you find out you can’t ask a baby to cry.” Deep harmonizing chords fall just a split second before each measure’s downbeat which give the whole song a sort of sticky feeling; like your brain is trudging through honey. So while one part of you is trying to be all drowning-in-sunshine, the other half is being carried non-stop by the interplay of the vocal melody and the bright counter melody. All of this comes with a light sprinkle of baroque-esque keyboard licks. By the time you get to the screamy “ya-dah, ya-dahs,” it feels like this cathartic release to the endless tide pushing you through the song.
Not unlike what I imagine it would feel like to wake up one day, 33, making decisions based on money rather than interest, feeling kinda achy, and exasperated that little Timmy has once again woken you up at 6am on a Saturday.
For starters I have listened to this track roughly 80 times prior to this writing and will probably listen another 10-15 by the time I’m done. It’s clearly not getting old anytime soon. On that alone, I would recommend giving the track a whirl.
The solo lilting guitar lick at beginning used to bother me a lot…why are you so off-beat sounding? why does your guitar sound drunk?? but it has become so addicting–much like the piano plinking in “Try It On” from Interpol.
This song has so many elements that pull you deeper under its spell, much in theme with the story the lyrics seem to be spinning. Paul Banks’ half question, half command “come on baby” beckons you (his lover, obviously *sigh*) to hear him out. The alternating closed hi hat and claps force pauses into the melody and lull you further into the track. Sharply accented guitar bleats that slide into nothingness plead for attention and are the musical equivalent of the chest pangs of the lovesick.
The true gem of this song, though, is the bridge. Working up to it, Sam Fogarino plays this beautiful cymbal riff that has an almost cowboy-western feel to it, which melts right into the crescendo. The bass line goes from a chugging slew of repeated 8th notes and blossoms into a plucky riff with an almost Latin underlying pattern, which is subtle but thrilling nonetheless. All which follows the somewhat conciliatory “you won’t find no scars on me” from Banks. That, coupled with the transition into a brighter mode leaves a feeling of “I will defeat you by embracing my flaws.”
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: Sam Fogarino is the heartbeat of this group. Many of their artful chord progressions would fall completely flat without the immense texture of his rhythm section. The more I try to master his beats, the more I am astounded by his skills.
The lyrics are so contested for this song (and rightfully so…Paul Banks makes Zach Condon of Beirut sound like an enunciator) that I have a hard time diving into them. But I will say that the parts that can be understood have reached into me and will not let go. And honestly, not being able to clearly hear words can allow you to just hear what you want–other people be damned.
Here’s to another 80 listens! Enjoy!