Some Songs Considered - Posts Tagged '2005'

February 5, 2010

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“King of Ska” – Desmond Dekker and the Cherry Pies
(Words/music: Desmond Dacres, available on The Definitive Collection, Sanctuary 2005)

When reggae music started to gather steam in the mid-to-late part of the 1960s, Desmond Dekker was right in the middle of things. By the end of the decade, Dekker wrote one of the most iconic tracks of the time period (“Israelites”) and found commercial success with several other tracks (including Jimmy Cliff’s “You Can Get It If You Really Want”). However, as early as 1964 Dekker declared himself “King of Ska.” Recording with the Cherry Pies (later known as the Maytals, reggae icons in their own right), Dekker seized the throne. While the music sounds dated to the mid-1960s, lyrically Dekker sounds more like a battle rapper than a young reggae star. “I am going to burn your skin like a blazing fire” he declares in the song’s contrasting section, giving his proclamation of power some more teeth to it. If nothing else, it foreshadows the unforgiving nature that made “Israelites” its urgency.

While I can’t refute Dekker’s royal lineage, I will always consider my friend (and frequent SSC commenter) Kevin to be “Ska Royalty” in my world. I met Kevin in college and to this day I’ve never met someone with a more complete knowledge of a genre both in its contemporary form and its historical roots. I’m pretty sure he was introduced to me as “Ska Kevin” and he certainly lived up to the name (all the while possessing one of the most open minds to non-ska music as well). Today is Kevin’s birthday and he’s currently coping with the “Snopocalypse” blanketing the mid-Atlantic region, so I send warm happy birthday wishes along with this post.

More on Desmond Dekker: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

TAGGED UNDER: desmond dekker | jimmy cliff | the maytals | 1964 | 1960s | 2005 | sanctuary records |

January 21, 2010

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“Stevie Nix” – The Hold Steady
(Words/music: The Hold Steady, available on Separation Sunday, Frenchkiss 2005)

I felt sad for selfish reasons today when I saw that Franz Nicolay, the keyboard player for the Hold Steady, announced his departure from the band. It sounds like Nicolay is leaving to focus on an array of other projects and seems like the right decision for him personally, so in that sense it’s a good thing for him. I say that it’s selfish because I’m going to miss seeing him perform with the Hold Steady.

Craig Finn’s distinctive storytelling and Tad Kulber’s classic rock-quoting riffs take up most of the attention, but Nicolay’s keyboard (going beyond piano to include harpsichord and accordion, among others) helped fill out the band’s sound. At their live shows, Nicolay set up on stage right, flanking Craig Finn’s manic preacher performance with an array of gesticulations on top of his keyboard parts and backing vocals. For most of the show, Nicolay remains a secondary player, content to let Finn and Kubler dominate the mix. Then, when the band starts playing “Stevie Nix,” Nicolay has his moment in the spotlight. After a couple blistering verses, the band stops and Nicolay turns the piano break before the final verse into a cadenza, improvising and extending the bridge with nimble trills and a giant smile. It’s the one time of the show where all eyes are on Nicolay, and every time he made the audience feel like our attention belonged there all night. As he finishes up and Finn resumes the story, the crowd erupts into thunderous applause (and if/when the band plays “First Night” in the encore, this routine repeats). Perhaps the Hold Steady will recruit a new keyboard player eventually, and while they may play Nicolay’s parts, they will not be able to replace the man who played them.

I met Franz after a Hold Steady show once and he graciously talked to all of the gathered people for far longer than necessary (which I can say about all of the members in this band), and he was the same ebullient soul that bounced along behind the stage. I wish him nothing but the best in all his new projects and look forward to hearing the end results.

More on The Hold Steady: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

January 20, 2010

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“Since K Got Over Me” – The Clientele
(Words: Alasdair MacLean, music: The Clientele, available on Strange Geometry, Merge Records 2005)

Follow my logic here: “Since K Got Over Me” borrows a bit of the melody from The Crystals’ “Then He Kissed Me,” a song I strongly associate with Goodfellas. Martin Scorsese used the song in the film’s famous single-take shot of Henry Hill and date entering the Copacabana through the service entrance. As the camera snakes through the kitchen to the front of the club’s room, the Phil Spector-produced track lends some of its giddiness to this very unique date. “Then He Kissed Me” helps to set the mood in this scene perfectly, from the liveliness of the club and the people working behind the scenes to the surreal feeling of the world bending to Hill’s whim.

The connection between “Then He Kissed Me” and “Since K Got Over Me” led me to start thinking about the kind of scene this song would soundtrack. Even if the production isn’t like Spector’s “Wall of Sound,” “Since K Got Over Me” relies on reverb to create atmosphere. In fact, the cleaner, more distinct instrumentation gives the song a woosy feeling to it. Alasdair MacLean’s vocals describe feeling out of sorts, so I’m inclined to think that my “Since K Got Over Me” scene would not be capturing a rise to power (like Henry Hill in Goodfellas) but rather someone hitting a snag. Perhaps, as homage to one of cinema’s more famous scenes, my character could go through the same sort of gauntlet that Hill follows through the unseen side of the Copacabana. Wherever he is – entering a club through the service entrance, taking the long way in to work, or whatever – he ends by pulling up his own chair alone, left to sort out the issues running through his brain. While Hill becomes the most powerful man in the room, I’d want this character to seem powerless, or at least restrained by these issues.

Anyway, that’s just my idea. What kind of scene would you soundtrack with “Since K Got Over Me?”

More on The Clientele: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

December 2, 2009

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“Modern Girl” – Sleater-Kinney
(Words/music: Sleater-Kinney, available on The Woods, Sub Pop 2005)

The first time I heard “Modern Girl,” I thought the CD was defective. About halfway through the song, the sound became distorted and garbled, and even though the CD was brand new, I assumed that I must have scratched it or received a copy with a manufacturing defect. I went through all the steps – found another copy of the album , played both on a different CD player, and even found a torrent labeled “vinyl rip” – and every time, “Modern Girl” devolved from the cleanly looping guitar riff to the sound of an overloaded speaker. Maybe it was the big deal made about the album’s circumstances, particularly the band working with Flaming Lips’ producer Dave Fridmann for their Sub Pop debut, but the idea that this was intentional didn’t cross my mind.

Needless to say, I felt foolish soon afterward. Not only is it intentional, but it undercuts the song simple melody the same way Carrie Brownstein’s verses undercut her chorus. “My whole life / look liked a picture of a sunny day,” she sings, yet the rest of the song juxtaposes declarations of happiness with feelings of alienation, frustration, and anger. At Coachella in 2006, Brownstein described the song as “about a nervous breakdown in reverse,” and whether it’s a scene played in rewind or simply a relapse into a dark spot, the narrator spirals from contentment to despair, grasping onto memories of a happier time. Similarly, the arrangement follows suit, starting with that looped riff and sing-song melody only to watch the faders creep up and the distortion set in. By the end, it sounds the way Brownstein’s narrator feels – foggy, disjoined, and only vaguely remembering what it was like at the beginning. The song goes deeper than this downward spiral – for instance, it’s up for debate whether the protagonist is “happy” because she’s clueless or because she’s genuinely happy at the beginning – but even these possibilities didn’t become visible to me until I realized that the track was “broken” by design.

More on Sleater-Kinney: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

October 28, 2009

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“Ageless Beauty” – Stars
(Words/music: Stars, available on Set Yourself on Fire, Arts & Crafts 2005)

We all have those days where we feel like we’re walking around with the parking brake on. No matter how hard we try or how much effort we put in, some days just have our number. It’s doubly frustrating when it comes during a busy time, and even if we understand that these days happen, it doesn’t make them feel any better. Instead, we’re left exhausted and feeling like nothing got done.

On days like that, “Ageless Beauty” feels like it’s cruising right around the traffic jam. My brain wants me to travel as fast as the bass line, yet I’m locked down in a crawl. Still, I’m drawn to one specific line on these days – “Oceans won’t freeze / so loosen your heart.” It’s welcome advice on those days; after all, oceans won’t freeze because they are constantly in motion, even if it’s not as visible as it might be at other times. Like these giant bodies of water, we’re all going to have those days where the waves just don’t break as big as we want, but it’s ok because there will be other days where the tides move with the same grace and power as the synthesizers in this song. On those apparently motionless days, we just have to breathe a little deeper and wait for our wave to come.

More on Stars: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

October 27, 2009

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“300 Bars & Runnin’” – The Game
(Words: The Game, music: a lot of people, available on You Know What It Is Volume 3 mixtape, 2005)

Extended freestyle tracks remind me of extended drum solos – the technique and endurance demands respect even if the music output remains non-essential. On “300 Bars & Runnin’,” The Game unloads on G-Unit and its affiliated rappers for almost fourteen minutes. Lyrically, The Game sounds like he’s found a direct passageway into his surreal stream of consciousness. He repeats ideas and lines for his three hundred bars, yet barely takes a breath. What it lacks in clever turns of phrase and editorial precision (it is a freestyle, after all), it makes up for in endurance and bravado. Clearly, The Game isn’t looking for a diss track that cuts like either Nas’ “Ether” or Jay-Z’s “The Takeover.” Instead, he’s happy to go with volume over quality, unloading line after line as the beat keeps shifting between both hip hop classics and contemporaries.

Still, “300 Bars” makes for a compelling listen if just for the cavalcade of beats behind his flow. In an odd way, The Game’s near constant barrage blends into the background, somehow in support of the different tracks his DJ spins for him. In particular, The Game catches his second (well, maybe his third or fourth, to be honest) wind around the ten minute mark just as Kanye West’s “Diamonds from Sierra Leone” kicks in. To be fair, I think even I would sound good rapping over this beat, but The Game snaps out of a bit of a lull, riding out the last four minutes of his marathon.

It’s worth noting that this came to mind because today is the 300th consecutive day I’ve written about a song. Unlike the Game, I’m not done at three hundred, though. I think it’s safe to declare at this point, but it’s my plan to finish the year writing about a different artist every single day (with the exception that a solo project and a band are two separate entities). I realize that not every post is as strong as I’d like it to be, but I’ve been happy to hit a few moments like the ten minute mark on this track where everything seems to fall into place.

More on The Game: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

October 24, 2009

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“Life on Mars?” – Seu Jorge
(Words/music: David Bowie, available on The Life Aquatic Sessions, Hollywood 2005)

The marriage of David Bowie’s songs and a Wes Anderson makes sense if only because of the shared weirdness between the two. So it’s appropriate that The Life Aquatic, probably Anderson’s strangest movie, featured a character that played David Bowie songs in Portuguese throughout the whole film. It was an interesting way to incorporate the soundtrack into the film’s plot (although there are a few excellent songs used traditionally, especially the Zombies’ “The Way I Feel Inside” among others). Still, these performances share the same critique as the film in general. To quote Moe Syzslak, much of the movie was “weird for the sake of being weird,” and having a character who spends most of his entire time on screen singing Bowie songs ~~without a single line of dialogue (it’s been a while since I’ve seen the movie, so correct me if I’m wrong~~ He does have a few lines of dialogue. Thanks for the tip, Andrew) feels excessively odd.

That being said, Seu Jorge’s performances are compelling, even on their own. Not knowing a word of Portuguese, I find that I’m shifting my attention away from the words and to the music itself, whether it’s Jorge’s distinctive vocal style (which often mimics Bowie’s fast delivery) or the beautifully replicated songs. It also strikes me how a lot of the songs still have the same emotional resonance without having words to understand. “Life on Mars” in particular feels bittersweet, suggesting the same feelings of loneliness without words to tell the story. Jorge’s interpretations stand as tributes to Bowie’s versatile songwriting, showing how his songs still stand up (and, on occasion, take on a new life) even with the narrative power of the lyrics stripped away.

More on Seu Jorge: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

October 5, 2009

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“Sleep All Summer” – Crooked Fingers
(Words/music: Eric Bachmann, available on Dignity and Shame, Merge Records 2005)

Beautiful autumn days – ones warm enough to sit out on a porch all afternoon – make me think about the end of summer. Perhaps I’m a pessimist when it comes to the weather, but I always take these days as the last gasp of summer before winter takes hold. While some people see changing leaves as a pretty backdrop, each falling leaf means another day closer to digging out my car. To be fair, I’m not sitting around thinking about icy windshields on these days – if anything, the impending frost motivates me to get out of the house and enjoy the warmth before it’s a fading memory.

I share this anecdote because these are the things I hear in “Sleep All Summer.” Sonically, it feels like these warm October afternoons, specifically in the way the guitar sounds. The gently picked acoustic guitar sounds warm yet tempered by the wistful slide guitar lines that gently come and go. Whenever the bright notes cut through to the forefront, the somber slide guitar swoops back in like a cool breeze. Eric Bachmann and Lara Meyerratken’s vocals tug at these emotional strands as well. Bachman, especially when reaching for the higher notes, sounds bright especially when contrasted with Meyerratken even keeled vocals. It’s when they sing together that Bachmann and Meyerratken bring out the best in each other’s voices and channel that early autumnal warmth. Even without listening to the words, it’s clear that these two characters sound conflicted – in this case, it’s a longing to reconnect with a lover while realizing that the spark is gone. Lots of pop songs use the seasons as a metaphor for life, but few feel as focused on the moments of flux between seasons as “Sleep All Summer.” It captures the feeling of summer’s last moments before fall. Like the love between these characters, change is inevitable, for better or worse.

More on Crooked Fingers: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

September 19, 2009

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“I’ll Bring the Sun” – Jason Collett
(Words/music: Jason Collett, available on Idols of Exile, Arts and Crafts 2005)

At this point in the year (at least in the Northern United States), the weather is beautiful during the day and a little chilly at night. Fall is starting to roll in and unlike summer we’re quick to flock toward direct sunlight while sitting outside. It’s days like today where the sun’s light cuts through the brisk fall air that make me think of Jason Collett’s song. From the first second, Collett’s song feels bright and sunny. The guitars ring out while the drums push the tempo, and Collett lets his voice crack as it lifts toward the high notes. Still, it’s the glockenspiel that cuts directly through the arrangement like the sun through a September afternoon. It’s used the same way Bruce Springsteen used it on “Born to Run,” as a way to punctuate the melody during the instrumental parts. In this case, it’s what gives the song its bright shine by putting the melody in the forefront.

Lyrically, Collett uses “sun” as the bright interpersonal spark between two people in love. With distance separating his narrator and his lover, the bright spots seem few and far between. In particular, I love the way that the “all of my love got stuck in traffic” line underscores the frustration of being separated from the one he loves. Rather than offer a plea that their love will transcend miles, Collett makes a realistic promise – he’ll bring the sun when he comes to visit. It’s easy to get focused on the distance in the situation or the promise of a future that may never come, but in Collett’s case, he’s focused on the next time he can get back into the sun and warm up for a little while.

More on Jason Collett: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

September 2, 2009

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“Shooter (f/ Robin Thicke)” – Lil’ Wayne
(Words/music: Dwayne Carter and Robin Thicke, available on Tha Carter II, Cash Money / Universal 2005)

I still remember the moment where Lil’ Wayne commanded my attention. While flipping through channels late at night, I caught the end of the Tonight Show just in time for the musical guest. I saw Jay Leno holding a CD, so I stopped to see who was performing. Admittedly, I stayed not because I had any interest in Lil’ Wayne but because the guy he was with was named Thicke (like the guy from Growing Pains?) and looked like he came out of an advertisement for a prep school. It was an odd pairing – Thicke in his sweater on one side of the stage and ~~a shirtless~~ Wayne running around the rest of the stage like his pants were on fire. In a way, the music sounded like this too – Thicke sang the introduction like a piece of slowed down blue-eyed soul (“Shooter” is adapted from his own track “Oh Shooter”), giving way to Hurricane Wayne when it came time for his verses. With a live band (and a DJ, I think) punctuating Wayne’s lines with horn kicks, Wayne ran around the stage like a man possessed.

This performance of “Shooter” (which I’ve only seen once and have never been able to find online) captivated me based on its on-stage theatrics, but the track itself is as endearingly odd. In other hip hop songs, Thicke might sing the hook. While “Shooter” has a repeated hook, Thicke feels more like the narrator pushing the story along with Wayne filling in the cracks with all of the details. Wayne’s in his normal mode with rhymes coming straight out of his subconscious by going off on tangents with unorthodox similes. In his second line, Wayne declares that “when I open up my mouth, all bullets come out,” and he certainly has a way with words. However, at times, it feels like he’s Yosemite Sam shooting off his guns into the air with abandon. Just when it seems like Wayne’s losing focus, he snaps back into lucidity and delivers a direct blow with the “stop being rapper-racists, region haters…” line directed at the business end of the industry. On Leno, Wayne delivers this line directly into the camera. Whether planned or instinctive, Wayne knew his best shot and took that extra second to aim at the target. By that point, Wayne was on my radar. Even with the mega-stardom that came along with Tha Carter III (and that surreal and wonderful interview he did with “Miss” Katie Couric), this TV performance I stumbled on accidentally remains my lasting image of Wayne.

More on Lil’ Wayne: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

EDIT: shityeahitscool shared a link to the video! Click through to check out the performance.

July 26, 2009

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“Plenty is Never Enough” - Tenement Halls
(Words/music: Chris Lopez, available on Knitting Needles and Bicycle Bells, Merge Records 2005)

Moderation makes practical sense but far too often remains an ideal. We understand the concept of it intellectually at least, but it’s also hard to shake that base instinct that suggests that more of a good thing will be even better. The past few days at XX Merge have been an exercise in excess. I’ve felt inundated with great music yet feel like I’ve had too much of a good thing. I’ve seen a lot of excellent sets over the past four nights but can’t help feeling that I might have enjoyed some of the bands more if there weren’t as many of them. Some bands were excellent (Superchunk and Lambchop among others), but I found myself thinking on a few occasions that I might have enjoyed some of the other bands if it weren’t for seven hours of standing in a room being blasted with loud sounds night after night. It came to a point where I had to give up on some bands – either sitting down in the back room, wandering outside, or going home to get some rest – in order to have energy for the rest of the week.

Tenement Halls, the new band from the Rock*a*Teens’ Chris Lopez, became one of these casualties. They played an outdoor show in the 97 degree North Carolina heat that was in addition to the seven hours later that night. As much as I wanted to see them (and Portastatic), cooler heads prevaled. I couldn’t help but think about his song “Plenty is Never Enough” while mulling through the merits of a full day of music and fatigure or trying to enjoy just a few of the bands in the lineup. “Plenty is Never Enough” is an upbeat pop song draped in a curtain of reverb and slight delay. It’s peppy, bouncy, and a little blurry – the perfect musical metaphor for the week itself. I know I would have loved hearing this if it was a single night out where I could drain all of my energy bouncing along. Instead, it became a casualty in the quest to survive to the end. At a point, there can be too much of a good thing, and I’m glad XX Merge gave me the opportunity to fill up on great music – I’ve just realized the diference between filling up and consuming everything. I’m also glad tonight’s show has seats!

More on Tennement Halls: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

July 18, 2009

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“Chicago” - Sufjan Stevens
(Words/music: Sufjan Stevens, available on Come On and Feel the Illinoise!, Asthmatic Kitty 2005)

At his core, Sufjan Stevens sings folk songs. He specializes in first person narratives focused on a few individuals and their struggles – sometimes with spirituality, sometimes with interpersonal conflicts, sometimes with internal emotions. We rarely talk about his stories, or at least not within the first few breaths. The spotlight gravitates towards his ambitious declaration to write an album for each of the fifty states (don’t hold your breath) or his sprawling, symphonic arrangements. Whether intentional or not, Stevens buries his songs beneath layers of strings, album-sized ambitions, and paragraph-sized song titles. He offers so many different paths to enter his work that we often overlook the most obvious ones. We’re seduced into scouring the details he includes from a given state or marvel at the grandeur of his arrangements (or, on some occasions, his religious identification) yet look right past the universal narratives starring right back at us.

Compared with much of the rest of his album, “Chicago” sounds straightforward and confessional. There’s an economy of language in the song’s lyrics (and the title, one of the few without a compound sentence), focusing less on the details (even if he gives locations) and more on his character’s feelings. We don’t know what he’s running away from (or who he’s running to), we only know that he’s running. However, Stevens gives some clues into his narrator’s mindset – he repeatedly acknowledges his mistakes and refers to the way things come and go freely in life. The city might change and the details may be different, but his narrator still cries in his van and longs to do it better the next time. He knows that he’s erred and sees his shortcomings, yet he has an understanding that he’ll end up in the same story again. His arrangement works in conjunction with this story, gracefully accentuating the melancholy feelings in Stevens’ song. He layers these strings and the female vocals in the chorus but pulls the adornments back when he needs focus on his words rather than his arrangement. Even with a song named after the state’s biggest city, Stevens isn’t hiding his uncertainty nor his personal revelation on this song.

June 28, 2009

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“Go Crazy (Remix)” – Young Jeezy with Jay-Z
(Words/music: D. Cannon, J.L. Jenkins, B. Krass, C. Mayfield, available on Let’s Get It: Thug Motivation 101 – Deluxe Edition, Def Jam 2005)

Two things stand out in this remix of “Go Crazy.” The first is the beat – built around a sample of Curtis Mayfield’s “(Man, Oh Man) I Want to Go Back,” this track feels like a lot of the soul based sampling from the middle of the decade. The thing that makes it unique is the way the beat flows – it’s a half-time beat but those drum rolls make it feel like an off-centered washing machine. It still moves in time, but half of the bar feels heavier than the other. Between this odd beat and the hazy use of the sample, producer Don Cannon creates a surreal feel to the song. Jeezy’s verse locks right into the beat, making the drums sound like they’re embellishing around his steadiness. It works perfectly with Jeezy’s style – one that I’ve always felt works better rhythmically than it does lyrically.

Of course, the “Go Crazy” remix benefits from having Jeezy’s then boss Jay-Z on the track. It’s not Jay’s best verse nor his best guest verse, but his presence commands attention. I first heard this track on the radio and had no idea that Jay was on it, so when he emerged it almost sounded like a daydream. Still, even if Jay sleepwalks slightly through the track, he still drops a few gems. As a baseball fan, I’ve always loved the “more than the relief pitcher, I’m the closer / the Mariano of the Mariott” line. If guest verses are like bringing in a relief pitcher to finish it off, bringing Jay-Z in for a verse would be like handing the ball to Mariano Rivera to close out the game.

More on Young Jeezy: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

June 6, 2009

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“Moving to L.A.” – Art Brut
(Words: Eddie Argos, music: Art Brut, available on Bang Bang Rock & Roll, Fierce Panda 2005)

“Moving to L.A.” isn’t as musically sharp as some of the other (arguably better) tracks on Bang Bang Rock & Roll, but that’s not the point. After all, California (at least to us on the Atlantic Ocean) represents a slower paced, less stressful existence. Musically, “Moving to L.A.” captures that feel with the bright strums and the guiro keeping the pace. It seems like the typical escapist fantasy, but Eddie Argos has to put his own twist on it. For example, rather than just relocate, Argos wonders whether he should get himself deported and at least have some fun before leaving England. It’s this wicked streak that makes the song so interesting – when Argos co-opts typical rock cliches, he highlights the absurdities of these actions – imagine if Argos really rode down Sunset on a motorcycle. Of course, Argos’ word choice takes the absurdity to the next level, preferring “strip naked to the waist” to “shirtless” and makes sure to name check Axl Rose, who I can’t imagine spending more than five minutes with Argos before having him removed. Same with Morrissey – I can’t imagine Argos and the ‘Moz tipping back glasses of Hennessey in the Hollywood hills, but it’s Argos’ dream and he clearly dreams big.

I’m in the process of moving this weekend (and honestly, over the next few weeks in tiny bits and pieces). It’s not quite Los Angeles (nor the Los Angeles Argos imagines), and in fact it’s much quieter. Trust me, if I wanted the same excitement that Argos plugs in the song, it would be equally as absurd. Instead, I recognize that the collision between the dream of moving – the hope and optimism – and the mundane details that go into moving in (utilities, buying toilet paper, building a desk for hours at a time). It’s worth noting that Argos’ plans never get past considering – he’s merely thinking about it. At least that way he can always associate L.A. with shirtless rides, Axl Rose, and a new wardrobe.

More on Art Brut: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

June 1, 2009

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“Here Comes the Summer” – The Fiery Furnaces
(Words/music: Eleanor Friedberger and Matthew Friedberger, available on The Fiery Furnaces EP, Rough Trade 2005)

I’ve been to the opera once in my life. In high school, I saw La bohéme at the Metropolitan Opera House and enjoyed the experience about as much as a teenager with only the most cursory understanding of classical music could. Since I didn’t understand a word of the libretto, I ended up focusing more attention on the ways that the music told the story, whether through the vocal performance, the specific key, or the choice of instrumentation. To a much smaller degree, I approach the Fiery Furnaces the same way – the lyrics are often interesting but often the music carries some of the story as well. In a sense, the early Fiery Furnaces records have operatic tendencies – recurring themes, sweeping arrangements, and ambition everywhere. I think this is what makes the band such an acquired taste – one person’s masterpiece is another’s pompous misfire I suppose. Still, whether as entire albums or independent songs, the Friedberger siblings aim to tell stories and use every element of their songs – arrangements, lyrics, and performance – to bring the story to life.

At the heart of “Here Comes the Summer” lies a promise Eleanor Friedberger makes about the impending summer. “I’ve been waiting since I don’t know when and now it finally seems about to start,” she sings, adding, “I swear, I swear that I will do my part.” There’s a mix of excitement and let down in this line, with the joy of an anticipated event arriving and the realization that the dreams for the future might lie slightly out of reach. The music tries to balance these two emotions, countering bouncy, squealing keyboards with slower, more wistful phrasing. In what seems like a straightforward arrangement (at least for the Friedbergers), this musical pivot point contains the heart of the song – the point where daydreams and reality merge together.

Today marks the same moment “Here Comes the Summer” captures, and we’re at the same place Eleanor Friedberger reaches when the song shifts into those long keyboards. We have the same opportunity to make the same promise – to do our part – to make the summer into what we want it to be. Personally, I’m a few weeks away from my summer, but I’m looking to embrace the longer days, warmer nights, and free time as much as possible. Even if the summer doesn’t turn out to be as good as the one I imagined when scraping the ice off my car in January, I’m going to make the most out of it. I’ll do my part. How about you?

More on The Fiery Furnaces: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

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