“Machine Gun” – Slowdive
(Words/music: Neil Halstead, available on Souvlaki, SBC / Creation 1993)
Words fill my life, and sometimes I resent this fact. I love to study language and tear it apart, to analyze symbolism and specific imagery, and to obsess over using one perfect word rather than two vague words. It was my decision to study literature, to make a career out of sharing my love of language, and to spend almost all of my leisure time reading or writing, but some days I end up verbally exhausted. My relationship with music works on a similar arc as well. I first fell in love with music with well thought-out lyrics back in high school when I started to branch out from music on the radio. I’ve always loved a killer riff, but I started to seek out songs that told an interesting story or created unique images with their lyrics. I gravitated towards this kind of music especially when I was out of school, using long car rides and spare moments to parse dense lyrics and come up with grand theoretical ideas about albums or cycles or songs. I still love music that engages this part of my brain, but I’m finding that it’s not an everyday obsession anymore. Starting from when I went back to school, I found myself integrating music with less of a focus on words and more emphasis on instrumentation.
Around this time, I discovered Slowdive’s Souvlaki album and immediately loved its atmospheric and almost other-worldly feel. It’s not exactly ambient music, as these songs still retain structure and tempo; however, mood takes precedence over lyrics and song structure. Take “Machine Gun” as an example – the song has two distinct sections (characterized by the two different sets of vocals) yet retains the same hazy, swirling feel. Unlike its title, “Machine Gun” moves slowly and gently, filling the air with swirling synthesizers and repetitively strummed guitars. The lyrics (which I had to look up) focus on water and drowning, and the song shares this aquatic feel, with reverb as the sonic equivalent of ripples in the pond expanding out toward the outer boundaries. “Machine Gun” doesn’t sound like treacherous waters apt to drowning, but rather a calm lake at night – the ripples in the lake blend in with the steam rising gently into the night’s sky, feeling warm, inviting, and mysterious enough to pique curiosity to delve deeper.
More on Slowdive: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm




