Songs that rip apart those higher up in the food chain are
not uncommon by any extent. From the music companies to the upper classes,
bands and singer/songwriters often attack these areas, but none more so than
The Kinks. In 1966 Ray Davies wrote and recorded a track, almost in demo form,
for their album “Face To Face”, titled “Mr.
Reporter”. The track remained unissued for many years due to the scathing
lyrics ripping apart the journalists and press at the time, who arguably helped
the band rise to stardom in 1964. Ray’s vocal on this version also doesn’t feel
quite so solid, and the track was shelved until 1969, when Dave, Ray’s brother
and bandmate, took on a re-recording of the track for his unreleased [until
2011] solo LP. It is in this version I would argue that the track really comes
alive.
“Hey Mr. Reporter, how
‘bout talking, about yourself – Do you like what you’re doing, or is it that
you can’t do nuthin’ else?” scowls Dave in the opening lines of the track,
with what are probably the nicest lines in the whole song. Dave’s vocal has
that distasteful twang to it that really adds to the bite all the way through
the track, only making the already angry track furious from start to finish.
Instrumentally at this point the track also keeps it simple, with an acoustic
guitar bed leaving little fleshed out, though this doesn’t last for long. Once
the drums kick in with the rest of the band, the track is off on a deceptively
playful bounce. You could play this track in the background and, with the exception
of the vocal delivery, be completely oblivious to its intent. “Don’t you twist my words around… I’ll kill
you, I won’t let you, distort my simple sound”. Here Dave rips right into
the heart of the matter – the press are renound to this day for playing with
people’s words to make the say what they want them to say, and here there is no
holding back in retaliation. I don’t think a death threat ever is a soft way of
looking at anything.
“The reason I am
stupid is 'cause I read you everyday…”
I don’t think any more words are needed here. This is one of
the most upright and frank songs with no attempt to hide intent or anger I have
ever heard, wrapped in a package you can’t help but love the sound of. And that’s
exactly what I want at times.
Track: “Let’s
All Make Believe” Artist: Oasis Year: 2000 Album: Go Let It Out [single] (7th Feburary 2000)
Oasis has always been a band I’ve sat in the middle with.
Don’t get me wrong, I adore the band, and many will likely know, but I can see
the flaws in their ways. That said, “Let’s
All Make Believe”, a simple b-side from the “Standing On The Shoulder Of Giants” sessions is a track I have no
intention of faulting to any extent. From the dreamy yet punchy production to the
powerful lyrics and succulent vocal delivery by Liam Gallagher, this is without
a doubt my favourite track release by the band to this day.
On top of this, it’s one of those songs that doesn’t really
just make me think of just one point in my life, but rather a few. Sure, some
spring to mind quicker than others – the conflict between me and someone I can
only now describe as a good friend made the track feel more poignant than ever,
but similarly general conflicts, be they friends, girlfriends or family, all
make the call for this track in my head. And it’s what keeps me looking up in
all these situations. “Let’s All Make
Believe, that we’re still friends and we like each other” begs Liam, and
more often than not, me. I’ve never been one to create conflict with anyone, or
anything, and this song certainly gives me the mental stance to uphold this
ideal.
So if you ever catch me singing this song, let it be. It’s
better than whatever the alternative probably is. Because hell if I know what
it could be…
- - Freddie
…Oh, I seem to have written something more manageable in
length. Yay.
Track: “Be My Baby” Artist: The Ronettes [Prod. Phil Spector] Year: 1963 Album: “Presenting the Fabulous Ronettes” (November 1964) First Release: A-Side August 1963
It’s quite telling when 2 of my top 3 albums feature
production heavily owing to that of Wall of Sound overlord Phil Spector – Springsteen’s
“Born to Run” (1975) certainly has a
decent stab at utilising the sound to suit his needs, while The Beach Boys,
specifically Brian Wilson, used a very similar production style on their 1966
production “Pet Sounds”, an LP whose
style arguably elevates that of Spector’s to something more wholesome. Regardless, his work has evidently had a large
influence on some of my most beloved music, and as such it is only right more
me to cover arguably his greatest pop 45 ever released – “Be My Baby”.
Released under the artist label of The Ronettes in 1963, “Be My Baby” is the pinnacle of Phil
Spector’s production catalogue. While later works, such as the incredible “You’ve
Lost That Lovin’ Feeling” and the awesome sound of “River Deep, Mountain High”,
are certainly strong records in their own right, neither perfect the pop 45
sound contained within “Be My Baby”.
As Brian Wilson said, hearing the record isn’t “like having your mind blown –
it’s like having it revamped” – taken
within or without the context, the sound is incredible. Brian’s reply, “Don’t Worry, Baby”, will likely feature
eventually here.
The song itself is pretty much the solid embodiment
lyrically of what it stands for too, which is always a bonus. “The night we met I knew I, I needed you so…”
sings Ronnie, with a voice that could melt your soul. Playing on the torn to
death ‘Love-at-First-Sight’ idea, we instead see what is a far more likely, and
genuinely possible, situation where one can fall hopelessly in love with
another after spending an evening with them, be it chatting with them about
common interests, or even just through getting to know one another [or both!].
The reliability of the lyric takes the song even further. Sure, it may fit a
generic framework – “Won’t you say you
love me? I’ll make you so proud of me!” – but I’ll be damned if it doesn't
bring the emotions to your soul every time you hear it. Even the 2nd
verse manages to add to the situation, taking it from admission to desperate
justification – “I’ll make you happy
baby, just wait and see…” – leaving the listener eager to see where this
may go, and thus willing to dive in. This is a relationship of hope and
potential, not another one night stand. And like that relationship, you won’t
be leaving this record anytime soon.
That feeling of love and desperation continues on into the
chorus – “Be my baby, my one and only
baby” – the sentiments of true love are there, and this is not a relationship
to be shared, issuing the idea that, if rejection is had, no-one else will do. “Be my baby now!” yells Ronnie, so eager
and excited she could burst. The anticipation of the relationship is killing
her, making the desperate justification of the 2nd verse all the
more powerful. As I mentioned, this potentially ‘generic’ lyrical fit has been so
finely crafted it’s impossible not to relate to your own experiences and needs –
right to the core.
And then the backing track. As I said earlier, while this is
not Spector’s most grandiose or powerful sounding record, it packs what I would
see as the perfect punch. Hal Blaine’s thunderous drumming throughout, from the
highly influential drum intro, to his simple, yet driving beat until the end,
fuels the entire track, and with the right touch brings it to a climactic finish
without overplaying his way over the music. There is a reason he was the session drummer, and arguably the
heart of The Wrecking Crew. Meanwhile the percussion fills out what is missed
by the lack of cymbals, the strings [Spector’s first use of] add a largely lush
texture through the track, and the ‘mess’ of Piano’s, guitars, basses and other
assorted instruments creates a sound so thick a steak knife couldn’t cut it. To
pick it apart would be a distortion of its intent – this unintelligible mess is
what makes the record sound so perfect.
And when that’s all done, you’re left with arguably one of
the greatest records of all time. A perfectly produced and arranged record
musically, and a lyrical sentiment perfectly close to the heart of anyone that truly
has one. All this is creamed off with a vocal of luscious you question if what
you are hearing could possibly be made any better.
Track: “No Through Road” 3:46 Artist: Michael Dermot Year: 2013 Album: “Pilot” (30th April 2013) First Release: “The No Through Road EP” (22nd January 2013)
Sometimes the music you love the most comes from the most unexpected places. On the 6th December 2012, a user on the Smiley Smile Message Board under the username “Gohi” created a thread in the “Smiley Smilers Who Make Music” sub-forum for “No Through Road – my new music video”, going completely unnoticed bar a complimentary reply from user “rab2591” that day. Fast forward to the following day, and one Harrison Hedges would link me to this thread, after it had also been posted on a forum called “AllThingsWeezer”, a place I would come to frequent within the next few months. I clicked on the link and was greeted with the following:
“This is my new single. It's a bit alt-rock and a bit 60s in some parts. There's another song on the album that sounds much more beach boys-like but I didn't wanna spoil that one for you guys before the album's even out. Lemme know what you think!”
With my friend’s good graces and the small amount of info contained here, I clicked the enclosed YouTube link and watched the video. Poor editing, Cheap Camera Work and Terrible lip-syncing was seen, some mirth was had, and most all, catchy hooks were remembered. I had the words “Don’t follow me” stuck in my head for days, and I’d only played it once. I immediately messaged this “Gohi” to see if I could get a hold of this track. I was soon greeted with a file labelled as “No Through Road rough sept 13”, The first of many erroneous files I would garner under the “Michael Dermot” tag.
Following this, the track went everywhere with me. I played it solidly during free periods at Sixth-Form, between every LP I played at home, and even called my dad up to give it a test run on him. The ironic thing here is that the rough mix, while uncompressed [woo!] pales in comparison to the powerful final mix, and yet it was perfect to me. I would anticipate any further music by this “Michael Dermot”. And play them all to death. But that’s a story for another entry…
The track itself is a 90s Alt-Rock classic in my book, with a bit of 60s Pop blended in for good measure [See the Spector-esque Bridge… broken down live one expects “Be My Baby” to kick in!], and carries itself solidly throughout. The melody is mostly solid, with some neat guitar work, especially going into the chorus, and a structure that develops rather than repeats, ensuring an enduring listen. The last chorus especially stands out, taking the extended 2nd chorus and adding in extra backing vocals to create a worth climax to a great song. Don’t follow me tonight indeed.
Regardless, to musically examine this song, as I did “Please Let Me Wonder”, would defy the point of its inclusion here. This song introduced me to Michael Dermot [Rowland], who, as many of you reading this will likely know, forms a huge part of my life. I try to turn everyone I possibly can onto his music, I have near enough officially played the Pilot LP more than anyone else in the world, and, through interactions with the man himself, have “attempted” [successfully or not] to shape his next impending musical project. His comments during his acoustic set on the Weezer Cruise 2014 near enough summarise how I feel about the whole endeavour, or more why I feel the way I do about it:
“…He keeps me goin’ sometimes… y’know… I make music in my mind and in the basement, but I know with his help and support, I’m gonna go onto something great”
Track: “Please
Let Me Wonder” 2:47 Artist:The Beach Boys Year: 1965 Album: “The Beach Boys Today!” (8th
March 1965)
First Release: B-Side of “Do You Wanna Dance” US only 45 (15th Feburary 1965)
Please Let Me Wonder, like
many tracks I often adore today, never was a track I originally had a great
relationship with. During my earlier days of working through The Beach Boys
back catalogue, mainly through pickups at record fairs and the odd lucky find
at a boot fair, Today! was not an LP I was quick to find. Many of their other
LPs, most notably the 60s LPs, had found their way into my collection, but for
a while The Beach Boys Today! was left
stranded as a collection of files on my PC. I’d played what I had a few times,
but it was the 2nd side of the LP [figuratively speaking] that
bothered me. 6 tracks of pure up-tempo pop goodness suddenly ground to a halt
in a cloud of muddy ahhhs and ooooohs, and I couldn’t work with it. THEN I got
the LP, and the understanding of Please
Let Me Wonder clicked.
Sticking of side 2 of an LP always allows for a fresh start
to the collection of tracks. One can make a statement on side 1 and then make a
completely different, yet cohesively linking one, on the next side. And Today!’s
second side of Pet Sounds Prequel ballads does this perfectly, and Please Let Me Wonder is without a doubt
the perfect example of this.
The aforementioned muddy quality of this track is certainly
an easy reason to dislike the track within the first few seconds. The group
vocals of the intro seem far less distinct at first compared to the first half
of the LP, and the instrumentation refuses to stick out. This, along with the
mono mix of Don’t Back Down from the previous “All Summer Long” LP, seem like unusual occurrences under Wilson’s
watchful eye, but even the phasing on production masterpiece “Good Vibrations”
shows audio quality probably wasn’t his priority. Regardless, once Brian’s
beautiful [And single tracked!] lead vocal kicks in, it all makes sense. The
voice manages to leap out of the fog, like a beautiful thought surrounded by a
confused situation. “This would have been
worth waiting forever” Wilson sings, bringing the listener into the moment.
Finally, alone with the person of his dreams, he likely has the chance to admit
his true feelings to them, but, like anyone who has been in the situation has
felt, he is shaking. His heart is breaking. The fear is creeping in. Does his
dream really love him? Is he going to leave heartbroken? The words can’t even
come out his mouth.
And then the chorus kicks in. “Please let me wonder, If I’ve
been the one you love, If I’m who you’re dreaming of”. The search for answers
has been left stilted, and Brian [though the chorus lead is sung by Mike] is
left with a preference that instead of total rejection, he should just be left
wishing, WONDERING, if his love feels the same way as he does. He is not
seeking answers, rather an alternative to what seems like another devastating
heartbreak.
The 2nd verse continues the fight in the first
verse for a sign of love from Wilson’s dream, desperately trying to prove just
how much this girl means to him. “I build all my goals around you” Brian weeps
into the microphone, “[So that] my love would surround you”. The words of a man
desperately trying to prove his love to someone he knows may be fading from him
quicker than he can bring them back. The struggle is noted perfectly in Brian’s
voice. He’s trying to keep it straight, but there is a clear shakiness in his
delivery that creates an uncertainty with the listener. For Brian defeat is
just around the corner, and if anything, it’s tearing him apart. Brian’s
lyrical conclusion rounds out the reasoning for the distress in his voice. “For
so long I’ve thought about it, and now I just can’t live without it”. Brian’s
perspective of his love is one he wants to be unchanged, an idea later
reflected upon in his 1966 solo single [and later Pet Sounds closer] “Caroline, No”. The swift transition back
into the chorus only further leaves Brian no choice but to surrender before he
is defeated. He knows what he truly dreams of will never be his, but to be
officially denied it will destroy him. He needs to be left pondering on the
matter, with no real closure, even if he has near enough been granted it. The
solo section simply serves to allow the listener to reflect upon Brian’s
distress, before hammering the point home with another chorus to fade. However,
just before Brian calls it out and leaves, he surrenders to himself, and quite
plainly states – “I love you”. The ponderous instrumentation and quick fade leaves
the listener begging to know what may have occurred next, although Brian’s
attitude throughout has, in theory, addressed the point already.
Interestingly, an earlier version of the track, sung by Mike
Love, features a far more distressed, if melodically unstable, set of lyrics,
most notably in the line “so please don’t say what you plan to say”. Here the
concept of leaving the love in question out in the open is disregarded – Mike doesn’t
want to know, and makes this point clear. However, from a musical stand point,
this version is certainly the inferior take. Mike’s vocal does not emit the
emotion in Brian’s heartfelt delivery, and the lyrics and melody seem forced at
the best of times, leaving the listener uneasy without having tossed their
emotions around.
In conclusion, Please
Let Me Wonder is easily one of my favourite Beach Boys tracks, and well as
one of my favourite musical moments in general. The emotion of the song feels
spot on, as does Brian’s perfect vocal and the instrumentation. Mike’s
alterations to Brian’s original lyrics also manage to create a more structurally
sound track, leaving me moved each and every time.