366 Songs 286: No Social

Rhyming “nose” and “so-and-so’s” is, of course, lyrical genius.

It’s the bleep bloop bleep bloop GUITAR of the song’s opening that gets me everytime. The rest of the song is an agreeable enough little ditty, sure – It’s very singalongable, and the Danger Mouse production does his thing of updating old fashioned techniques to create something relatively contemporary in a mysterious way, but it’s also somewhat slight. But that opening: It’s like hearing something blossom into pop music. If there was a way to build a song out of that level of surprise and excitement, it would be a thing of beauty – and likely very short, too.

(The bridge comes close, but that might just be because it’s the bleepy-bloopiest part of the song. Maybe my problem is that the rest of the song just doesn’t match up to that bit?)

366 Songs 285: Introducing The Band

One of my favorite songs to open an album, “Introducing The Band” is a great primer for what listeners should’ve expected from Dog Man Star, the second – and by far, the best – album from Suede way back when (That this album is almost 20 years old makes me feel depressingly decrepit): Something that managed to sound like grandiose glam rock science fiction that’s been particularly tarnished and beaten, with wonderfully over the top lyrics that hint at an awkward poetry (“Chic thug stuttered through a stereo dream/A fifty knuckle shuffle heavy metal machine/The tears of suburbia drowned the land/Introducing the band”) even as it acknowledges its own pretentiousness (“As the sci-fi lullabies start to build”) with some tongue-in-cheek comedy (“I want the style of a woman/The kiss of a man” always felt to me like a reference to this), all performed in a stupidly over-the-top manner. It’s a song that’s hypnotic – Really, that “Dying/I’m Dying/I’m Dying/I’m” loop is what does it – but almost daring you to pull away because it’s so ridiculous. I love it dearly.

This Is How Every Week Feels, Sometimes

This was a photo of a sign in the window of a restaurant that had had some kind of disaster – It had flooded, perhaps, or been in a fire and then flooded by the sprinklers? – and I loved the way it looked. I like that “Saturday” was the only day almost untouched by the whole thing.

“I Didn’t Destroy The Picture”

“I believe that if someone restores the [Rothko] piece and removes my signature the value of the piece would be lower but after a few years the value will go higher because of what I did,” he said, comparing himself to Marcel Duchamp, the French artist who shocked the art establishment when he signed a urinal and put it on display in 1917.

“I was expecting that the security at Tate Modern would take me straight away, because I was there and I signed the picture in front of a lot of people. There is video and cameras and everything, so I was shocked.”

“I didn’t destroy the picture. I did not steal anything. There was a lot of stuff like this before. Marcel Duchamp signed things that were not made by him, or even Damien Hirst.”

He said that he admired Rothko, describing him as one of the great figures in art of the last century, but added: “I don’t believe that what I have done is criminal. If the police are going to arrest me, then they are going to arrest me. I am OK with that.”

From here, and apparently a quote from the man who signed a Mark Rothko paining in the middle of the Tate Modern. As much as I love Rothko – and I genuinely love Rothko – I have to admit, I kind of love this.

Related: This Is Yellowism.

“Who Wins? Who Loses? You Decide!”

Another toy that drove the nine/ten-year-old me insane with excitement, the 1984 Super Powers line. Only the first “wave” of releases came out in the UK – the twelve figures above – but they were more than enough to please me. Even at that age, there was something iconic about the big-name DC Comics characters, and I remember being ecstatic when I found Super Powers characters in a toy store in nearby Gourock. I still remember that the first ones I owned were the Flash and Green Lantern, but I remember that I also ended up with an Aquaman, Lex Luthor and Superman, too.

In America, there were a further twenty-one figures released, with lots of characters that I hadn’t even heard of at the time. I wish that I’d seen them, though; the idea of these toys being an early introduction to the likes of characters to whom I’d later become massive fans of – Jack Kirby’s Darkseid and Mister Miracle, or the stoic Martian Manhunter – appeals to me, even if I’m not sure what I would have made of such characters back then.

366 Songs 284: Richard III

1997 was, in many ways, the hangover of Britpop; the bloom was off the rose, as they say, and the more interesting bands were looking elsewhere for inspiration already. Blur, of course, had “Beetlebum” and “Song 2” coming out, and Supergrass had “Richard III.” Like “Song 2” – the singles were contemporaneous – this is a song that throws away the cheeky-chappy persona for something heavier and purposefully less melodic, but what it lacks in tune it makes up for in force: This is a claustrophobic song that deserves to be played loud, so that the whole “I know you want to try to get away” overwhelms you the way it should, and you find yourself able to pick out the bouncy, McCartney-esque bassline, organ stabs and theramin amongst the aural soup. This is a song to get lost in, and find yourself exhausted by, by the time the fade-out finally arrives…

“All Memory Lies”

All memory lies. It paints nice colors over the ugly or disturbing things. Or it cleverly distorts them; bends and twists them, so that they fit better into the convenient history we’re all continuously writing and amending of our lives. No matter who you are, your memory is always and for everything an unreliable witness. Never trust it to tell the truth about who you are or how you got here.

From here; it’s from Jonathan Carroll’s new book, apparently.

A Change Is As Good As A Rest, Except A Rest Is Easier

And here I am at Time again, writing about the Robert Kirkman/Tony Moore legal tussle over authorship of The Walking Dead ahead of the television show’s return this weekend. I don’t normally write straight “This happened, and then this happened” pieces for Time – normally it’s more op-ed and conjecture – so this was a nice change, in terms of ease of writing (The structure was already in place!). We’ll see if people dig it, I guess.

366 Songs 283: All That I’ve Got (I’m Gonna Give It To You)

We’re at the point now where we can all agree that Billy Preston is a forgotten soul hero, right? He can even make this minor track from 1970s’ Encouraging Words – with a title that sounds like a threat – into something that just makes you want to dance. It’s the enthusiasm in the playing; it sounds as if everyone is ridiculously excited to be performing, and giving it their all and then some. There’s a palpable joy in the song, pushing the whole thing forwards with organ stabs and horns that push you out your chair. You can hear the Ray Charles influence on Preston here – Maybe not so much in the vocals, but definitely the piano and push and pull structure of the whole thing; if you can imagine Charles performing with Sly’s Family Stone, the result would probably be something not unlike this song, really.