Some Songs Considered - Posts Tagged '1986'

October 30, 2009

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

“Peter Piper” – Run-D.M.C.
(Words: Darryl McDaniels and Joe Simmons, music arranged by Jason Mizell, available on Raising Hell, Profile / Arista 1986)

Earlier this week, I gave my students a poem by Chicago based author Kevin Coval. This poem, titled “The Day Jam Master Jay Died,” eulogizes legendary DJ Jam Master Jay after his murder in a Queens’ recording studio. Coval’s poem also contains characters who are caught between different worlds – such as a light skinned Hispanic male mistaken for being white and a Spanish speaking, Hindu practicing girl in his class – the same way that Coval felt alienated by his Jewish upbringing. It was Run-D.M.C.’s music that eased him “over the bridge of whiteness and rock,” and, eventually, led him back to his faith. It’s an influence that Coval carries with him, infusing his knowledge and love of hip hop in both his writing and his works with young authors.

Coval ends his poem by repeating part of a line from “Peter Piper” (and includes an entire additional verse leading up to this line in the recording I played for my students) where Reverend Run refers to Jay as the Big Bad Wolf and clarifies that it’s “not bad meaning bad but bad meaning good.” It led me back to “Peter Piper,” and it makes sense why Coval’s poetic eulogy would end with this track. Not only do Reverend Run and DMC put Jay in the same mythical category as a litany of fairy tale creatures, but Jay’s turntable skills on this track make the bragging redundant. He effortlessly transitions from an a-go-go breakbeat to the distinctive, rhythmic record scratches. Somehow, he toes the line between supporting his two MCs and stealing the show. If nothing else, it’s easy to see why Run and DMC made such outlandish claims in the mid ‘80s, and how a poet could put Jay in the same breath as John Lennon a decade and a half later.

More on Run-D.M.C.: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

August 25, 2009

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

“Bizarre Love Triangle” – New Order
(Words/music: Bernard Albrecht, Gillian Gilbert, Peter Hook, and Stephen Morris, available on Brotherhood, Qwest 1986)

Pop music rarely treks into the gray area between “I love you” and “I hate you,” and even then it’s usually in the “I hate that I love you so much” vein. “Bizarre Love Triangle” sits squarely in the middle, with its protagonist feeling both the pull of love and hate. He acknowledges his confusion, yet he’s closed himself off to outside advice. Instead, he’s firmly inside his own head, offering a reaction to every thought and a con to every pro he considers. Perhaps because he’s so wrapped up in his emotional quandary, the narrator tells a vague story. It’s hard to tell where he stands with this mysterious second person; immediately, I assumed this was a long-time love who started to make him more frustrated than euphoric and he’s trying to decide whether to reconcile or find someone new. However, this might be a case of lusting over someone who’s already involved and feeling guilty about it. Either way, our narrator feels heartbroken and frozen by love.

The narrator’s vague situation does two things. First, it makes the song relatable to people in a variety of situations. Even if we haven’t been in a “love triangle,” most of us know what it’s like to have a crush on someone who won’t reciprocate the feelings. “Bizarre Love Triangle” is seductively catchy, and relatability will finish the job that wonderful synth arpeggio starts. However, the vagueness helps bring out the duality in the lyrics, especially in the chorus. “Falling” could either be a falling down (as in weakening) or swooning, depending on the narrator’s perspective. It also suggests a “pray/prey” pun, with the narrator either praying to be noticed or preying on his fallen former love. Ultimately, it makes the words the narrator wants to hear but can’t say either “I love you” if he’s the “other man,” or “we’re through” if he’s secretly hoping to end things but can’t drum up the courage to do it. It makes it hard to root for the guy without knowing what he wants (and I’d argue that he doesn’t know what he wants either), but with such a wonderful track pulsing behind it, it’s easy enough to get lost in the melody and leave this guy alone to deal with his emotional baggage.

More on New Order: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

July 6, 2009

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

“Red Rain” – Peter Gabriel
(Words/music: Peter Gabriel, available on So, Geffen 1986)

Generally, pop music uses rain as a setting rather than as a force of nature. In these songs, rain is an impediment to the day’s activities or an obstacle to overcome. It’s something to stand in, travel through, or keep us indoors. When it steps out of the background, rain often serves as a cleansing agent – something to wash over us - or as a manifestation of the doldrums. The Jesus and Mary Chain (and later Garbage) even equated rain with happiness, or at least happiness buried within a bittersweet memory. Rarely is rain the thing causing floods, erosion, or other types of destruction. When it is, it’s not called by its name – it’s a storm, or a hurricane/tsunami, but rarely rain. Thus, when “rain” pops up in a song title, most of the time it’s the source of a slight bummer or occasionally a setting for some grand romantic statement or introspection.

Peter Gabriel’s “Red Rain” sounds like the exception to this generalization. From the opening moments of the song, something sounds unsettling. In between declarations of being surrounded by this red rain, Gabriel details a series of dreams where he helplessly witnesses someone (the “you” in the song) suffering. He keeps returning to the sea yet still can’t remedy the situation. It’s either a series of reoccurring dreams – where Gabriel’s narrator keeps coming up short no matter how much he hurries or whatever he tries to do – or a prolonged torture outside of his control. Gabriel sounds anguished as he sings – not overtly tortured as if he experienced the pain himself, but rather helpless and frustrated by his dreams. He chooses to use rain as the manifestation of this suffering, but it feels like he’s drowning in guilt. Perhaps it’s guilt for being helpless in dreamland, or perhaps the guilt prompted the dreams. Regardless, the choice of “red rain” suggests a deluge of pain, one that’s drenches him beyond his control. It’s a despondent, anguished song on an album best known for songs associated with sweeping romantic gestures (“In Your Eyes”) and overt sexual come-ons (“Sledgehammer”).

As frequent commenter Jerad would point out, R.E.M. covered this song during a radio session in the 1980s (and is available on the In the Attic collection of rarities I.R.S. put out in the late ‘90s). In between two songs from Reckoning, Michael Stipe sings the chorus of the song and one other line – “I come to you defenses down / With the trust of a child.” This line is Gabriel’s final attempt to rid himself of the “red rain” – since all the extra effort did nothing to stop the suffering, he submits himself to the person in pain (and in doing so, suggests to me that he’s the one causing the suffering). Stipe’s selection of the line shares the same feeling of submission and works in a similar way. R.E.M.’s medley begins with “Time After Time,” a song that suggests a relationship damaged by the same fight over and over. The medley ends with “So. Central Rain,” a song about regret over eroded dreams. Both Stipe and Gabriel end up in the same place – after the rain, they’re left vulnerable and regretful. While Stipe apologies in the aftermath in his medley, Gabriel seems happy enough just to be able to put his umbrella away.

More on Peter Gabriel: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

January 20, 2009

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

“Cuyahoga (Live in Mansfield, MA – 13 June 2008)” – R.E.M.
(Words/music: Bill Berry, Peter Buck, Mike Mills, Michael Stipe, originally appears on Lifes Rich Pageant, IRS 1986)

When I saw R.E.M. this past June, Michael Stipe offered this song to Barack Obama. The choice is interesting because aside from the opening lines (as his dedication suggests), it doesn’t seem like an obvious choice; if I were to have guessed which song they dedicated, I would have probably guessed one of the more recent Bush-fueled political rants (like the ho-hum “Final Straw”) or one of the more overtly political songs (like “These Days” from the same album). The ban even played “I Believe” (key line: “and change is what I believe in”) in South America the night of his election. Sure, the song references the polluted Cuyahoga river - a cause that the environmentally friendly candidate would emphasize with, buy it still seemed like an odd choice (one I didn’t complain about that night, however, as it’s one of my favorites).

Thinking about it months later, I’m immediately drawn back to the lines that Stipe highlighted in his introduction – “Let’s put our heads together / and start a new country up.” It captures the sentiment of Obama’s “change” mantra as well as his message of unity. After watching the sea of humanity in Washington, D.C. this morning, it seems that his message of unity, hope, and yes, “change,” enticed millions of Americans. Appropriately, Obama’s inaugural address hit on the theme of working together – it’s not Obama or his party creating the “new country,” but everyone in America. It’s a refreshing change of message for someone like me, who has heard nothing but partisan dogma for almost a quarter century of life.

So as I thought about this earlier today, it seemed more and more appropriate. After all, many of R.E.M.’s songs blurred the lines between the personal and the political, as the Obama administration at least begins by stressing the individual’s role in government. “Cuyahoga” isn’t just about the death of a river, but about the narrator’s personal memories attached with the river. The song’s filled with “we” and “our,” to the point that the Cuyahoga is less a call to recycle more but a symbol of a proud and highly personal past that’s been corrupted (as the river now “runs read over it”). Even more importantly, the song focuses on gathering friends and moving towards reclaiming their pride rather than lamenting the death of their icon. It’s an appropriate song to dedicate to a man who wants to promote community, even at the national level.

_______

PS – Even though R.E.M. is one of my favorite bands (and, if pressed, probably the most important band to me), this will probably be the only post on one of their songs (I might pick one more at some point, but that would be it), in part because of Matthew Perpetua’s wonderful Popsongs 07-08 project, where he writes about these songs with eloquence and insight that I could only dream of possessing. I’d be remiss if I didn’t say that this site (along with the other excellent work he does on the web and in print) is a major inspiration for what I want to do over the next eleven and a half months. Here’s a relevant quote from Matthew’s entry on “Cuyahoga” from July ’07:

“Cuyahoga” may be a lament, but it’s also one of the most optimistic politically themed songs in the R.E.M. songbook. Even better, its optimism is not cheap and facile. The lyrics make a point of acknowledging the fact that we need to collaborate and work hard for change, because without that effort and emphasis on community, we stand to lose so much.

More on R.E.M.: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

About the Blog

Search Posts

SSC on Shuffle

Follow SSC On:

Elsewhere on the web

SSC on Twitter

Meta