Some Songs Considered

“Against the ‘70s” – Mike Watt
(Words/music: Mike Watt, available on Ball Hog or Tugboat?, Columbia 1995) 

My copy of Ball Hog or Tugboat? currents sits on the far end of a translucent bin of LPs sitting in my living room.  It’s the only one visible through the container right now, so while sitting watching TV the album caught my eye and prompted two distinct thoughts.  First, I realize that it’s been years – probably back to the same time I found the LP in a record store – since I’ve listened to the entire thing.  Secondly, I tried to fathom something similar happening – specifically, a major label putting out a record brimming with alternative rock’s all-stars.  That second thought ended quickly, as it took the right mix of charm and chops to assemble such a revolving door of talent and make it a compelling listen. 

However, the famous names don’t make this a great record.  It’s the quality of the songs above all that made this record great.  “Against the ‘70s” isn’t great because of Eddie Vedder’s presence alone; instead, it’s the urgency in his voice that stands out.  Same thing with Dave Grohl and Krist Novoselic’s cameos – I’ve seen enough underwhelming award show duets to know that celebrity alone doesn’t guarantee a good performance.  Instead, it’s when these guests play with the fury and intensity they bring to their own projects that something special comes together.  In that sense, Watt deserves as much credit for orchestrating this runaway train as he does for fueling it with his nimble bass lines. 

More on Mike Watt: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

“History Lesson, Part 2” – Minutemen
(Words/music: Mike Watt, available on Double Nickels on the Dime, SST 1984)

My favorite line in “History Lesson, Part 2” – a short song with a disproportionate number of lyric gems – starts the third verse.  “Mr. Narrator,” D. Boon says, “this is Bob Dylan to me.”  This reference speaks louder than the list of Boon and Watt’s musical heroes that they used to emulate growing up.  It reads as a plea for legitimacy for punk rock – an intergenerational attempt to explain how these songs mean just as much as Dylan’s songs meant to the previous generation.  It’s a specific choice to compare it to Dylan and not the Beatles, Rolling Stones, or even Led Zeppelin because punk rock (or at least the kind of punk rock the Minutemen made and gravitated toward) shares a lot with Dylan.  Both touch on political themes, both ruffled feathers of the previous generation, and both are (to some) an acquired taste.  Boon delivers this line with the genuine tone of a teenager seeking validation, and it’s this sincere tone that makes “History Lesson, Part 2” (and most of Double Nickels on the Dime) so compelling.  Sure, Boon and Watt deliver a compelling argument for punk’s place in history, but it works because it’s 100% honest.

It’s important that Boon follows this line with one containing the word “story” because I’ve always been enamored with punk rock’s storytelling capabilities.  Two main themes run throughout punk rock – viewing the world as an outsider (or viewing yourself as outside of the mainstream at least), and punk rock as a participatory democracy.  Some take this as a violent rejection of mainstream culture, but I prefer to see it as a way to tell your own story – one that may not fit in with what’s popular yet may overlap on some points.  Some take punk rock to its nihilistic end and boil it down to finding something to rebel against, but that misses part of the picture.  Take Boon and Watt – they include Blue Oyster Cult’s E. Bloom with their list of punk rock icons and cover Steely Dan and Van Halen on Double Nickels.  Punk rock, to them, is the vehicle to tell their story.  The opening line to the song – “our band could be your life” (the title of Michael Azerrad’s excellent book about the 1980s American underground) gets read as a sign of fandom – making the bands you love a critical part of your life.  In the context of the song, it’s also meant the other way – we could be in Watt and Boon’s place, singing our own song about our own music.  I’ve seen the Hold Steady play this song changing the references to Minneapolis’ punk icons (and the Minutemen as well), and my version would be yet another musical generation removed.  In this case, the details of the story aren’t as important as the actual act of telling it.

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

“Into the Groove(y)” – Ciccone Youth
(Words/music: Steve Brey and Madonna, available on The Whitey Album, Enigma 1988)

Today marks the release of The Eternal, the sixteenth studio album by Sonic Youth, and I’m impressed with how vivacious this band sounds twenty seven years after the release of their first record.  Sure, their new album doesn’t push as the “golden era” Sonic Youth records, but I’m hard pressed to find a band that puts so much into their craft when they probably could coast.  Let’s face it, Sonic Youth could make a healthy living touring on their old material (think of how well a Daydream Nation tour would do), so it’s admirable to see them push their creative boundaries at all, let alone find it successful.  Having seen the band a few times now, I’ve seen the band’s passion for creating and performing and find it inspiring; I hope to one day hit my stride the way Sonic Youth has and find the inspiration to keep pushing myself for the sheer joy or creation.

I’m drawn to Sonic Youth partially because of the variety of emotions they wring out of their music.  They create these dissonant and jarring bursts of noise, yet their compositions teem with emotions behind this curtain of noise.  Take “Into the Groove(y),” the product of a collaboration with Mike Watt dubbed “Ciccone Youth” – their reinterpretation of one of Madonna’s best singles as a gnarled mess of distortion and darkness.  Immediately, I’m drawn to the sinister feel created by the oddly voiced guitar chords, megaphone-like vocals, and the clanging echoes.  This dark interpretation seems intentional, yet a mischievous joy runs throughout the entire song.  Whether it’s the samples from the original or the way Thurston Moore kind of locks into the song’s rhythmic pattern, it seems like the band truly loves the song.  Once you get past those odd sounds, the group stays faithful to the original’s arrangement, even preserving the tempo.  It’s like the band took a song they liked, took it apart in order to learn about how it’s built, and used some of their own pieces when putting it back together.  This is how a song sounds like a slower, darker dirge while still maintaining the same tempo and melody as the original.  It’s an impressive feat for any band, yet even more impressive when considering this was a side project.

More on Ciccone Youth: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm