Last week, the social network rollout of my new covers EP, I Didn’t Want to Say Anything, was a modest success. Now, for those less into feeds and more into downloads, I’ve put up the whole kit and kaboodle — five songs, cover art, and even cut-out art for burnt copies — right here in the recording section of the site. You can also listen to the whole thing streaming there. And for those who are reading THIS in a feed, here’s a direct link to the ZIP itself. Once again, it’s not for sale, just for fun. Enjoy!
ALSO just for fun, I’ve decided to re-paste all the “liner notes” I posted per-song last week. Like so:
1. Johnny Boy – “You are the Generation That Bought More Shoes and You Get What You Deserve”
Johnny Boy is (was?) a U.K. duo known most (if at all) for this song, a Phil Spector-like girl-group production with a bombastic title to match. It came out in 2004 and scraped its way into Pitchfork’s top 50 singles of that year, but then it came in at #121 for their decade list, so it seems to have grown in estimation over the years. With good reason. Between that chorus and the first line (“I just can’t help believing / though believing sees me cursed”), I knew I had to at least try to learn the song. I actually took a stab at it a few years ago, but I couldn’t believe the lyrics I was finding online. I basically had to wait until their debut album came out to trust that they really were singing exactly what it sounded like they were singing (“Burberry Beamers beakheads gleaming / Addidas sleek mystique reversed”, etc.). After a while, at about the same time I stumbled across a guitar rhythm that I think fit well, I came to really appreciate the stream-of-conscious wordplay. It actually sounded fantastic, and it fit the fevered blur of consumerism I assume they were attempting to skewer. The way I play it, I’m trying to make it sound like a long lost Billy Bragg song. Not sure I got there, and this thing has consistently worn out my arm, over the last few months. But it’s hella fun to play.
2. Pulp – “Common People”
The first time I heard “Common People,” it was the William Shatner version, the one recorded with Ben Folds and Joe Jackson for the Has-Been album a few years ago. Say what you will about William Shatner, he really commits to a lyric. And sure, with “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds,” it’s going to sound silly and surreal. But with “Common People,” it just underscores what is already a lyrically devastating song. And so he’s already sneering in his maniac spoken-word way when Joe Jackson comes in and out-bitters him on the best parts (“You will never undersdtand / how it feels to live your life / with no meaning or control.”) I literally had goosebumps the first few times I heard it. Eventually I got the Pulp version, brilliant in its more arch, British way, the nonchalance of Jarvis’s delivery almost camoflauging the “Like A Rolling Stone” bitterness of the words. Genius, envy-inducing stuff. The chords were easy to learn — quite similar to my own “Johnny Without June,” and I saddled it with the same slow country swing. I was so excited about it that I chose to play it at a friend’s weding reception happening during the same week I’d learned it. I got halfway through and cut myself off, realizing I was probably bumming everyone out. Great song, though.
3. The Bevis Frond – “He’d Be a Diamond”
The Bevis Frond is really just one guy (how pretentious!) named Nick Saloman. He’s been releasing albums for decades now, all of which are mixtures of long, sludgy, proggy jams…and brilliant, concise, British-invasion pop jems. (When I first moved to Chicago, I sold all my CD’s and just had some cassettes, including a Bevis Frond mix made by my friend Mark. It cut out the sludgy stuff and kept all the pop, so for a while I was in the dark about the schizoid nature of the ‘Frond.) So yeah, it can be a confusing listen, and in all honesty, I usually skip the long stuff. “He’d Be a Diamond” is probably the song most Bevis Frond fans would say is his “best,” a harmony-rich tale of a chronic screw-up who can’t get his girl back. Told from the perspective of a third party, I love its almost conversational asides (“And he told me just last night / that if he had his chance again”) and overall sense of humor (“Though you feel like shit / he says you look beautiful”), which only makes the sentiment of the song feel more genuine. For some reason, as soon as I learned this song, I started playing it faster and faster. I just thought it was more fun that way — like the Hamburg version of an early Beatles song, eh? My brother Scott came through town and we did it together at a show, and he thought the speed took away from the lyrics, but I kindly disagree. Anyway, feel free to judge for yourself…
4. The Killers – “When You Were Young”
The Killers are and always wanted to be a big band, and as an indie kinda guy, I’m sure I’m not “supposed” to like them, but I do because of songs like this. Sam’s Town was a notoriously crtitcal flop, yet its first single, “When You Were Young,” sounded brilliant to me. This in spite of the undeniably over-reaching lyrics (“He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus”)…but then again, also a little because of the over-reaching lyrics (“On the back of a hurricane / that started churning when you were young”). I have no idea what possessed me to try this song out, since the thing I really love about the original is the overwhelming wallop of the guitars. There was no way I could reproduce that. But I first got a clue that this could be a more refelctive song when I played the guitar lead on my parents-in-laws’ piano over Christmas break. Then when I learned the chords, I was pleased to notice how similar they were to “Hey Jelousy” by the Gin Blossoms. Once I turned the guitar lead into a Simon and Garfunkel style “lie-lie-lie” thing, it was all over. I happened to be learning the song at the same time my high school class was staging a reunion, and everyone was getting absorbed in Facebook, and…the thrust of the song just resonated with me. Time flies, etc.
5. Oasis – “The Shock of the Lightning”
I basically love Oasis because I think they’re sort of idiot-savants, songwriting-wise. As they’ve gone on, they’ve indulged in overlog intros and outros, and they’ve always recorded everything at max volume, a non-stop supersaturation of color. I happen to like these things — a sound as obnoxious as their interviews is kind of fun. But I maintain that under all the noise are some of the most brilliant, catchy melodies rock music has ever known. The “idiot” part is, of course, the lyrics — but even there, they get my respect. Noel Gallagher has always admitted to being far more interested in how a lyric SOUNDS than in what it MEANS, and for a nerdy songwriter like myself, I often forget how effective that approach can be. May lyrics like the ones in “The Shock of the Lightning” (“Love is a time machine / up on the silver screen”) ever remind me. And, as with many an Oasis refrain, the “Shock” chorus ends up producing a mantra I can fully get behind in terms of both sound AND meaning (“All in good time”). Like with the Johnny Boy song, this was an attempt to take something completely beyond the scope of a solo performance, and squeeze it into a Billy Bragg framework. As such, it’s a workout for me, but I hope it still brings out some dynamics missed in the onslaught of the original. I will say, as a rabid fan, that this song is from what’s turned out to be their last album, Dig Out Your Soul, the first side of which is, in my opinion, some of the best stuff they’ve done in years…though the rest of the record falls apart in short order on side two. Geek!
