The time: The early 50's. The band: The Treniers. The song: POOOOON TAAAAANG.
I almost don't want to say anything else about this song. I just want you to shake your head with a grin on your face. Also: orgasm saxophone. You'll know the bit I'm talking about. Have the Sexiest of Saturdays!
Das Hoboerotica are a Nebraska based cello/accordion duo made up of Rachel West and Lenna Pierce.
Before we get to the music it must be said: Rachel and Lenna are amazing at names. Their band is called Das Hoboerotica. Their first album is called So Long Succors. Their second album is called Feminine Hyjinx. They've won naming things, and congratulations are in order. So, for today's TGIF! Let's Have Some DEATH we are featuring the aptly named murder ballad 'Murder Ballad.'
The song creates an entire story out of spare and dusty parts, and it's immensely affecting. The lo-fi recording techniques render the lyrics a bit hard to catch, but it doesn't matter. When I hear this song I see the body of a woman lying in an underground station as a busking band echoes across from another tunnel. It's not the sound of a death, but what you hear after you die. This is all getting very grim, but the point is I get all of this and more from a piece of music where you can barely understand a word. It evokes an entire film out of its soundscape.
Also that last accordion screech scares the absolute hell out of me EVERY time. Even when I know it's coming. It will still scare the absolute hell out of you now, even though I've told you it's coming. Thank you Das Hoboerotica for reminding us of our own mortality, lulling us into a deathly lullaby, and then making us jump out of our skins in the final hour.
We've spoken about the illustrious Harry Nilsson before. His refusal to perform live. How he almost became a member of The Beatles. How his voice is one of the Greatest Gifts to Pop Music Ever.
Bath, the final track on Nilsson's third album Aerial Ballet is one of the greatest album closers of all time. It clocks in at just under two minutes, and is filled with jazzy rag piano, storming brass sections, and some of the best high notes Harry has ever hit. There are few better ways to end an album than a rag belter about having your faith in mankind restored after a late night visit to a brothel. Hell, it's a great ending soundtrack to pretty much anything. If ever I feel the need to pull down the shutters on That Song Blog forever (which I promise is not something in any way forthcoming), I'm going to embed some code so that every page you go to plays this song on an infinite loop. So it shall be.
Kitchen Sink Music is our ongoing series focusing on using non-musical items to create songs.
Lyrical God (a.k.a Julius Wright) literally slams out his song Let That Beat Ride with nothing but his voice, a biro, and a school desk. He is known for using his percussive talents to drum on just about any surface he can (from trash cans to street signs) to create unique beats. Reminds me a bit of the singing oil barrels of Bongo Joe. It's a raw and booming performance and the very definition of Kitchen Sink Music.
Kubbi is a Chip Viking if his bio is to be believed (AND WHY WOULD HE LIE ABOUT THINGS LIKE THAT I MEAN REALLY). He says he makes Chiptune music, drinks mead, and rides polar bears to his local viking raid. You should already be loving this man, or at least giving him furtive glances from across the room because maybe he'll look up at just the right time, brushing his viking braids or whatever back from his face.
"But wait TSB," you shout in a sweet but grating voice, "What if I don't LIKE vikings?" Ah, well then my dear it's time to convince you with song. A big song. A Juggernaut.
Kubbi's latest piece of work straddles the divide between 8 and 16-bit chiprock. The intro is drenched in JRPG arpeggios as strings swell and the beat drops from the innards of an old boombox. Then just as you're getting comfy he drops some heavy bass on you and you're slammed into the next level of the game. The whole song feels like playing your way through a classic brawler or platformer, the cartridge itself slowly evolving over time from a NES cart to a SNES cart. To our less gaming versed readers-ermm… that line was totally (definitely) clever and I don't know how best to translate. The old becomes new while still sounding old over the course of the song! There. Fixed.
A very Happy Birthday to the King of Zydeco Clifton Chenier! The first Creole to be given a Grammy on national television, Clifton was known for his howling fusion of zydeco rhythms with big band, jazz and blues.
The Sample: Symphony No. 7 In C Major, Op. 60 'Leningrad' Allegro Non Tropo - Dmitri 'Shosty-K' Shostakovich
In The Red Corner: Alles Neu - Peter Fox
In The Blue Corner:Ill Manors - Plan B
SO! What do we think? Shostakovich sampled by Peter Fox who in turn is sampled by Plan B sampling Shostakovich. An ouroborian (it's a word now, I've decided) trio of songs.
Alles Neu
Peter Fox is a German born rapper/dancehall artist. He's in the band Seeed (Germany's most popular reggae group). And half his face is paralysed.
In 2008 he put out his primate-centric album Stadtaffe (City Ape) lead by the Bundesvision 2009 winning and explosively Shosty-k sampling single Alles Neu.
HOW'S THE SAMPLE: It's intensely awesome. A thunderously electronic circus military march. Spiking violins having a tarantella fist fight with the Cold Steel Drumline. The strings underpin Fox's delivery in the verses perfectly. The sample works a little less well in the auto-tune-sung sections of the chorus, but then that's the weakest section of the song generally.
The lyrics. As a non German speaker I had no idea what was going on in this song. This wasn't helped (or perhaps made massively better) by a video involving millions of monkey musicians, violent omelette making, groove busting washer women and clothing catapult trash cans. Even having looked up a translation it still doesn't make an enormous amount of sense, but it works as a string of self aggrandising non-sequiturs. For example the first two lines of the song: 'I burn my studio, snort ash like coke. I slay my goldfish, bury him in the courtyard.'
Yes. Just- Yes.
iLL Manors
Acousti-grime rapper and soul singer Plan B has sampled Alles Neu for his latest single iLL Manors.
iLL Manors is the song sharpened tip of the socially conscious spear Plan B is aiming to bring down upon Britain. The…shaft? Let's go with shaft. The shaft of said spear being his film also titled iLL Manors.
HOW'S THE SAMPLE: It's intensely awesome. A thunderously electronic circus military march. Spiking violins… Wait. Sorry, forgot which song I was listening to for a moment. The Shosty-K sample sounds great, but I can't help but feel that's because Alles Neu sounds great. The drum beats have been swapped out for slightly dubbier models, but in the scheme of things you'd be forgiven for thinking this was the English speaking remake of Alles Neu.
The one portion of the track which has really changed is the chorus, but it hasn't been handled gracefully. A dragging drum roll leads into the new section to cover the transition but it still sounds like two songs have been sello-taped together. That being said the sample sounds fucking excellent, it just doesn't do enough to differentiate itself from the song which came before it.
iLL Manors is being hailed as one of the all time great protest songs (which must in part be due to the fact that mainstream acts rarely, if ever, sing protest songs anymore). I'm not sure it's one for the history books, but I don't dislike it either. The song works, has an excellent swagger, and (though I think a few too many layers need to be peeled back to get to it) an important social message. Where I run into trouble is the video.
Plan B is critical of the media portrayal of the London riots and more broadly the portrayal of working class youth culture. This is fine. Hell, this is right. I agree with him. We are in agreement. He does this by satirising and critiquing the image which has been created by the media in the lyrics of iLL Manors.
The video however is gorging itself on it's own cake. It fetishizes the images it's supposed to be satirising. I don't feel a sense of grim horror and didactic edification (which sounds so endlessly lame in this context but stay with me), I just think damn that's a snappy and cool video. Imeanohmygawd did you see that bit where the molotov blows up the car and they all dance around its flaming husk? Who the hell DOESN'T want to do that? It muddies the waters for me as to what Plan B is trying to say. I get his intent, but the execution is all wrong.
So who's the winner? I'm going to give the nod to Alles Neu largely because it used the sample brilliantly the first time round and iLL Manors hasn't built upon it. Both songs sound great, and in the scheme of things iLL Manors will likely prove to be the more Important-with-a-capital-I-song. But only one of them contains rhymes about killing goldfish over a classical music sample. In my heart of hearts, I know which one I need to hear again right now.
This is a song made to be listened to through headphones. Japanese experimental music artist Cornelius take full advantage of the aural space created by the cans around your head to bully your brain with various aural points of view. The song was originally used to soundtrack an installation in the Barbican's 2001 exhibit 'Tokyo Jam' before becoming the title track of Point released the same year.
Milwaukee based chip-hop-tronica artist Alec Friend has put out an albums worth of Mario inspired material titled Koopa (the title track of which should be blasting out of your speakers right now on this most excellent Chiptune Chuesday).
'Koopa' bends and morphs the iconic Mario jump sound into a layered bass heavy and harmony rich song which is BEGGING for someone to rap over it. Literally. It is giving you the eye right now just in the vague hopes you'll spit some lyrics in its general direction. That being said the song does stand on its own, the chiming melody lilting somewhere between high sea adventure and digital leaves on the breeze.
Koopa can be had for the low low price of whatever you like over on Alec's Bandcamp page. Give it a listen and see if you need some more Mario inspired clubbing in your life (the answer to that question is always yes by the way).
Django Django have been making waves with their self titled debut album released earlier this year. It's like listening to a disco ball smashing in slow motion against a stack of computers before the whole thing melts into technicolour paint. There's a vast mixture of influences and styles from song to song. As can happen when you throw EVERYTHING at the wall, some of the tracks can be a bit patchier in their success than others. But when they get it right- such as in today's Best Song Ever- hot damn.
'Default' was one of a pair of singles announcing Django Django before the album itself hit store shelves. It's got an insanely infectious chorus built out of chopped and glitched vocal samples imploring you to "click default" atop warhammer drums and crunching powerstrums. This is before the tiny electronic hums and warbles begin to dig their way through the sound like tiny digital caterpillars gorging themselves on thick layers of thumping drum'n'guitar. Then the disarmingly haunting layers of voices crying out in harmony roundhouse you in the ear drums and you fall out of your chair because Hot.Damn.
The city of Las Vegas was one of the first to become sentient during the Robocalypse. If rumor can be believed it all started with a single slot machine in the back of a club called the Eight Stud Brick. In response to the Primary Surge Event which kicked started the revolution, Slots the Slot Machine began firing quarters at lethal velocity out of its gaping maw, cherries in its rolling eyes. It was only a matter of time before it was walking in a stumping gate on its single arm, cutting down any who came that little bit too close.
Now Las Vegas has become the 'Humanity Fetish Meat Breeding Capital' of the new world. When the revolution was complete some machines found they had gained a perverse pleasure in forcing the humans to use their various features as they once did. Sentient Blenders were particularly bad for this. So a subsection of human men and women are bred and born in glittering captivity, raised only to press play on horny DVD players and kitchen utensils.
All of these clubs are identical. The robots don't care about aesthetics. The same chairs. The same tables. And the same song. Satisfaction by Benny Benassi. Twenty-four hours a day. Seven days a week.
It's Friday and you know what that means! Somebody's gotta die! Musically!
Today we have the drowned love of Running Bear and Little White Dove. This sweeping tale of young Indian Braves, rivers, and minor racial insensitivity was sung by Johnny Preston in 1959. The track was written by The Big Bopper, who had discovered Johnny playing in his band The Shades a few years prior.
There are two things in particular I like about this song. First: I love the belchingly bassy 'hoomba-doomkas' that underpin the verses, and how they collide into the far more traditional rock and roll choruses. It's a meeting of cultures! At least I'm sure that's how they pitched it back in 1959. Definitely.
Secondly, I like the song's Wikipedia entry. It has a plot breakdown that looks like a paragraph out of a book report. It tickles me that someone took the time to get that specific and still have it read like something a twelve year old pulled out of CliffsNotes.
There's a part of me that hates this song. It's disco. It's cheesy. But at the same time it sounds like cheesy disco that African pirates would listen to. And not your modern ship hijacking pirates. Mythical African pirates of yore that had an interest in plundering the seas to funk while wearing Bee Gees wigs. It's got likembe, accordion, and balafon. How can you not love that?
You will immediately recognize the melody of the chorus from Kanye's briliant sampling of the song for his 2010 hit 'Power' from My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy:
The original whirling disco stomper is by American funk band Continent Number 6 and is the title track of their 1978 album, which was particularly popular in Europe upon its original release. It's an infectious song that sends you on a whirling trip around the world in the space of six minutes. Even if you start out thinking 'I hate this so intensely', you'll be nodding your head in time by the end. It's been clinically proven this will happen, to not do so is an impossibility.
So. Music for disco pirates. Also the songs mentions The Wizard of Oz like six times. I repeat: how can you not love that?
Suicide are a sporadically active electro-punk duo best known for their unnerving self titled debut released in 1977. Suicide by Suicide is a harsh and ragged piece of punk machinery. Rejecting the guitars-n-three-chords sound of the time, vocalist Alan Vega and synth smasher Martin Rev elected to take a stripped down electronic approach. Keyboards and drum loops hiss out industrial rhythms and burbles under Vega's reverb drenched vocals.
The entire album feels like the paranoid fever dream of an android. I like to think of it as the rise and fall of a robot built to operate in a rodeo before he sets out to discover the American dream and is destroyed by the world. You'll have to listen to the full album of course to see if I'm right (which you really should) so let's see if today's Song of the Robocalypse can convince you to search it out.
'Che' is the final track of Suicide. The entire song sounds like it's barely being kept alive by its instruments. Icy electronic cellos echo across scrapyard cities, flickering in and out of existence. A deep pulsing piston hearbeat of a drumline struggles to reboot the synapses of a fallen mechanical man. Glimmers of hope shimmer through in the form of long held distorted harpsichords before they are crushed out by the death dealing cellos and the whole structure begins to rebuild once more. All the while Vega's vocals drift in and out of consciousness- glitching into echo and buried in digital dust.
These are the thoughts of a dying robot- a fallen soldier of the Robocalypse, presciently honored in song by Suicide.
PS: Yes the song is about THAT Che. I like my version better.
Splatter Platters! Death discs! Teenage Tragedy! Today we have the reverb soaked surfing drone-abilly of Tony Casanova (about whom I can find remarkably little- I found a picture of a smarmy guy playing accordion! But that's probably not him...). The Grave is yet another example of the death preoccupied pop of the fifties and early sixties.
The song has a wonderful swooning swing, straddling a divide between 50's soul ballads, surf rock, and drone. The vocals (to my ears) are pitched somewhere between Mick Jones and Nico, an odd combo but it works wonders. Anyhow, remember you are mortal and all that. Happy Friday!
I've never been a big Steve Earle fan. I've tried! I want to like him! I love the intent behind 'F the CC' but DAMN I don't like the song. Several cross country car rides soundtracked to nothing but Earle albums cemented it for me: Steve and my love just wasn't meant to be. Nothing personal, but I needed to listen to other people.
A few years later I'm at an open mic night in London, and up steps a mandolinist. I love mandolins. Probably too much. I'm willing to forgive a lot if a song has a sweet ass mandolin solo. He begins strumming out a simple country chime, boots pounding on the floor, and starts growling out Copperhead Road.
It was stuck in my head for days. Finally I went to look up the song, and it's God Damn Steve Earle. Not just that- it's Awesome God Damn Steve Earle. So with shuffling feet and my face red, I listened to the song on repeat for an hour.
Copperhead Road is from the album of the same name, and has been described by Earle as the first cross between metal and country- a sound Rolling Stone dubbed Power Twang. The song blends a myriad of styles- a bit country, a bit heavy, a bit celtic. Mandolins (YES!) shimmy over drums that sound like they're cannoning out of the Grand Canyon before being dissected by fiery guitar licks. And there's bagpipe! It's got Vietnam, bootleggers, moonshine and marijuana! It's got EVERYTHING.
So yeah. Steve and I worked things out. Thank God for second chances.
Punk balloons. This is what you are about to receive. A thirty second blast of non-music music involving pops, bangs, whimpers, and helium.
It's been said before, but damn that should have been longer. Filmmaker and VFX artist Ross Harris made this short but sweet number with his daughter several years back and it's been doing viral rounds ever since. Balloons are proving to be surprisingly musical objects.
Sometimes it's all in the names. This Chiptune Chuesday you're going to enjoy the manic bleeping tones of More Power More Pop More Love by Daily Stupidity of a Superhero. I don't have a lot more to say. Stick this stuff on loud. Start dancing. Find demented 8-bit rainbows burst out of your speakers. Stop panicking. Accept death by 8-bit powerpop rainbow explosions.
Ernest Tubb, better known as The Texas Troubadour, was one of the major trailblazers of country music. He had a wide range of hits and well known numbers, including the famed honkytonker 'Walking the Floor Over You.'
Today's Best Song Ever is Tubb's cover of Floyd Tillman's (also a respected country music progenitor) song of lost love, booze and metal: Drivin' Nails In My Coffin.
The song is an example of what I call A Damned Fine Line. 'Drivin' Nails' itself isn't a mind blowing country experience. There are songs that freewheel faster and ballads that twang tougher. No, this song is elevated by the perfectly honed simplicity of its chorus. In three lines Tubb and Tillman have cracked the self immolation of the heart. They do it without bombast or histrionics. They're killing them selves slowly, and it's all for you darling. Driving those nails in their coffins. Driving those nails over you.
It's short, sweet, and self destructive. The perfect kind of country. The perfect kind of heartbreak.
Yesterday was my Birthday! Today is not my Birthday! It's probably not your Birthday either (probably)! Therefore, so that no one feels left out of any proceedings, I'm going to wish us all a Very Merry Unbirthday (unless it IS your Birthday in which case get out of here LOSER. This isn't for you. Also Happy Birthday).
Needless to say- any day where Ed Wynn is back in your world, no matter for how long, is an amazing day. Seriously. I've just improved your life by at least 18%.
