Some Songs Considered - Posts Tagged 'sony bmg'

September 27, 2009

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

“Give It” – X-Press 2 with Kurt Wagner
(Words/music: Darren Morris, Kurt Wagner, X-Press 2, available on Makeshift Feelgood, Sony 2006)

Eventually, “Give It” blooms into a lively, pulsing dance with synthesized horns and a choir of backing vocals. At this point in the song, it becomes a digital gospel choir joining Kurt Wagner’s promise to be patient. However, the track must grow into this the same way that Wagner’s narrator must learn to be patient. At the beginning of the song, his narrator contemplates the future, eagerly seeking it out yet fearing the impending change. He realizes that the moment he’s experiencing will pass and has the instinctive impulse to capture this specific moment. It’s not quite that simple, as Wagner goes off in a couple tangents, but ultimately this crisis of “now versus then” comes to the forefront. Alternately put, it’s the decision to focus on enjoying a given moment or think about how the moment fits into the larger picture. In that sense, it’s a self-awareness of immediately recognizing a given moment as important and knowing that this recognition will change the moment in progress.

I’ve discussed and thought about this idea a good amount recently in a few different contexts, eventually leading back to the same conclusion and the same example. I’m way too inside my own head sometimes, and for all the positives that constant self-reflection brings, it makes it very hard to experience something and then “sort it out” later. I then think about the first time I heard this song – earlier this summer at the end of Lambchop’s set at the Merge Records anniversary shows. By this point in the set, Wagner and his dozen backing musicians won over the entire room, and Wagner’s impassioned “Give It / Once in a Lifetime” closing went to the next level. It was a rare moment where I knew what was unfolding – the event’s signature performance – yet I found myself able to silence that part of my brain and be stunned into silence. Soon afterward, I described it as “a surreal moment that ended a memorable set,” and a few months later I’m still thinking about it. Ironically, by not immediately processing this moment, I’ve been able to process it a dozen different ways. I’m still not sure I have a definitive answer, but I’m not sure that’s the point; Wagner’s protagonist turns off his meta-commentary and turns patience into a spiritual revival, and in a way I have too – albeit a series of minor personal revelations. By quieting my thoughts for a few minutes, I sewed seeds for an entire series of ponderings. In many ways, I’ll be chasing down that performance (or similar ones) for the rest of my life, and I’m only starting to realize that sometimes it’s worth letting it get a head start so that I can see where it leads me.

More on X-Press 2: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

May 31, 2009

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

“Burn Baby Burn” – Ash
(Words: Tim Wheeler, music: Ash, available on Free All Angels, Sony 2001)

“Burn Baby Burn” has left and entered my life more times than I can remember; if it was a woman, we would have the textbook definition of an “on again/off again” relationship. When I actively think of the song, I’m in love with it. Simply hearing the first few notes of the song can pull me right in, and by the time the first verse kicks in, I’m hooked. “Burn Baby Burn” flies out of the gate at a brisk tempo and continues soon afterward with the kind of power chords that make my heart rate quicken instantaneously. In particular, I’m smitten with the first verse (and maybe this “song as a woman” conceit subconsciously comes from the “your golden hair and pale blue eyes” line), as it mixes equal parts desperation, restlessness, and romance in the Springsteen-esque sense. By the time Tim Wheeler declares that his band has “never been satisfied,” I’m already back in love with the song. We’ve fallen back into our old ways – “Burn Baby Burn” sounds as fast and melodic as it did years ago, and I’m questioning how I could ever go more than a week at a time without hearing this song.

Still, something’s missing – there’s the reason why the song and I always part ways at the end. Thinking about it now, the only part of the song that lags for me is the hook – for a song that’s so intensely catchy, it lacks a strong vocal hook. The opening notes “hook” me in, and even the song’s chords progressing gets stuck in my head. I can’t think of a single time I’ve ever felt a jolt when listening to the chorus. It’s almost like the song has an inverted pop structure – the verses are more memorable than the chorus. I’m not saying that every song needs a clear, visible hook – but for a song that leans more to the “pop” side of pop-punk, it’s a shame that it doesn’t finish the job. Ultimately, this is probably the reason why I’ve never fully “committed” to the song by making it a mix / playlist staple. It’s a hell of a song, and we have a great time together, but I guess we need our space. I’m sorry, “Burn Baby Burn,” it’s not you, it’s me.

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

April 9, 2009

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

“Molly (Sixteen Candles)” - Sponge
(Words/music: Tim Cross, Mike Cross, Vinnie Dombrowski, Joey Mazzola, Jimmy Paluzzi, available on Rotting Piñata, Work/Sony 1995)

Sponge, in many ways, typified the mid-90s. They are a band that, to most, blends into the ether of modern rock radio. Most people couldn’t pick them out of a lineup, let alone describe what distinguishes them from the other bands with moderate success during this era. Still, you probably know one of their songs even if you never knew their name (or have long forgotten their name), and that’s far more than most bands ever accomplish. Sponge’s enduring semi-anonymous legacy (and to be fair, there are a dozen different bands that one can substitute in here) isn’t unique to the 1990s – watch one of those Time Life infomercials late at night to see a hoard of performers whose songs have outlasted their personal fame) in a strange way better represents the era than its iconic performers. We’re quick to latch onto the transcendent bands from any given time period, and with good reason since these bands are the ones who create those rare works of art. Still, a lot of these bands are beloved because their music goes beyond a specific era, falling into the “timeless” realm. In that sense, it’s the bands like Sponge – the middle class of the modern rock era – that represent the time period in a more direct and honest way. Simply put, with egos out of the picture, the focus shifts to the songs.

While “Molly” reaches back to the 1980s with its nod to John Hughes Sixteen Candles, it’s a distinct product of the 1990s. From the quieter beginning building into the main riff of the song to Vinnie Dombroski’s throaty, sub-Weiland vocals, Sponge sounds like a brighter version of Stone Temple Pilots. While many of the STP records trudged along, “Molly” leaps out of the speakers in a rush of joyous energy. In particular, the chugging rhythm guitar keeps the song moving along as much as the drums. My favorite bit is the bright arpeggiated guitars behind the “don’t ask why” lyric. This brief, chiming riff mixes well with the long, drawn out backing vocal and this sonic pileup makes the part when the band cuts out even more effective. Even if the spotlight moved on a long time ago, “Molly” still radiates every time it comes on the radio, and while the members of Sponge might disagree, it doesn’t matter if you can’t remember if it’s a Sponge song or a Refreshments song or whomever. All that matters is that when “Molly” comes on the radio, the dial doesn’t shift for a few minutes.

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

February 8, 2009

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

“Bleeding Love” – Leona Lewis
(Words/music: Jesse McCartney and Ryan Tedder, appears on Spirit, Sony BMG 2007)

These days, I only really listen to the radio in two locations – in my car and in public places where it’s playing. Even when I listen in the car, I usually have my iPod or someone to talk to, so rarely do I scan the stations looking for something. My point is that when I hear pop music now, it’s usually as some kind of background music – part of a commercial, pumping through a speaker while I’m shopping, or the sound I put on in the car to keep my thoughts from consuming myself, so I find that I recognize a lot of pop songs but don’t really know them – unless it’s someone I knew already, I rarely associate the song with the performer. What this means is that the pop songs I end up knowing have to be recommended by someone or ubiquitous enough to transcend the role of background music.

“Bleeding Love” was one of those songs – it seems like everywhere I went for a few weeks in a row those booming drums and that huge voice filled the air. It’s the kind of song that demands attention – every time I heard it, my ears perked up and I would linger around just long enough to try to hear a DJ give the song credit or to try to catch the hook or something. Lyrically, “Bleeding Love” is another pop song with bad romantic advice (in this case – “you hurt me emotionally, but I still love you”), but let’s be honest – pop hits need more than words (and, in some case, just need words that aren’t completely idiotic). Those huge drums contrast with the R&B synth and organ flowing through the song (and don’t be surprised if Kanye has a taiko drum / church organ song on his next album, it seems like the next obvious step for him) and make it interesting – it’s not the typical Whitney/Mariah/et all diva ballad. Ultimately, it’s Lewis’ performance that makes the song remarkable. Her voice drips with the emotion of a confused and wounded lover – conveying emotion more than the Livejournal-like lyrics penned for her.

Tonight, “Bleeding Love” is nominated for the Grammy award for Record of the Year and not for Song of the Year, and it’s appropriate that the track is honored for its performance and production rather than its penning. I’m convinced that the magic happened in the studio with Lewis’ producers setting her up for these four perfect minutes. We put a lot of weight onto the pop stars that sing their own material, but there’s also room for those who can take others songs and execute them in a way no one else can. This is the type of performer Lewis is, and I hope she embraces it.

~~Oh, and give her (er, her producers) the Grammy.~~

EDIT: To be fair, my favorite of the songs nominated is “Paper Planes,” but it came out almost two years ago. Granted, “Paper Planes” got huge in 2008, but it ended 2007 with a lot of steam. “Bleeding Love” seems much more 2008 and thus, in my opinion, seemed more appropriate to win an award for 2008. “Bleeding Love” is also much more in the vein of what usually wins these awards (more than “Paper Planes” at least)

Of course, about 5 minutes after I posted this, Robert Plant and Allison Krauss won. I forgot that T-Bone Burnett has sizable blackmale on the Recording Academy.

More on Leona Lewis: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

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