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Certain Songs

Certain Songs #42: Best Coast – “Who Have I Become?”

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EP: Fade Away.

Year: 2013.

Bethany Cosentino got slagged on Best Coast’s great 2010 debut, Crazy For You, because “all of the songs sounded the same.” Which was true, to a point, but what the haters didn’t catch was  – like, say the Ramones and Neil Young – it was a great the same. Fuzzy guitars, heartfelt words, deep pop hooks, what’s not to like?

So naturally, on the follow up, they went out of her comfort zone, and the results were less than stellar. And you might think, well, that’s that: the pattern of great debut album, less than great follow-up and several releases that never even come close is an established cliche.

Except that Best Coast’s 2013 EP, Fade Away, blew that cliche to smithereens, as she went right back to her strength, but with a new fullness and maturity. And with its time changes and plaintive chorus "Who Have I Become?“ is easily the best example of a band balancing that fullness & maturity with the sunny pop that made them great in the first place.

And, naturally, "Who Have I Become?” features one of the typically strong guitar hooks of Bobb Bruno, who’s been Cosentino’s under-the-radar James Honeyman-Scott: laying down the guitar parts that actually make each of those “all sound the same” songs completely distinctive.

“Who Have I Become?” performed live at KEXP in 2013

My Certain Songs Spotify Playlist:

Every “Certain Song” Ever

Certain Songs #41: Belly – “Feed The Tree”

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Album: Star.

Year: 1993.

In retrospect, 1993 was kind of the peak of it, wasn’t it? Where whatever in the hell was going on with indie rock felt like the center of the fucking universe.  If 1991 was the year punk broke, and 1994 was the year that broke punk (and by “punk,” I really mean Kurt Cobain,“), then 1992 and 1993 were the sweet spot, where it seemed like anything was possible.

Which is all just bullshit, I know, but god damn it, that’s what it felt like. At least, in the alt-indie-whatever rock world. For me, that first Belly album always evokes that weird time where I was still living in the Tower District, but everything was changing around me and I knew that I needed to change it up as well, but wasn’t quite ready. Not yet.

Looking back, it seems to me that only in 1993 would you get something like "Feed The Tree,” a huge-sounding, impeccably produced pop song that is still weird, indie (Tanya Donnelly was in both Throwing Muses and the Breeders, for fucks sake) and lyrically nonsensical, but still for a second seemed like it might just actually top the charts.

It didn’t, of course.  I mean, “Feed The Tree” topped the Bilboard “Modern Rock” charts, but came nowhere near the real Top 40. Still, Belly’s Star – a near perfect record for that aforementioned sweet spot – went gold, whereas five years prior, it would have maybe sold 100,000 and five years later, lucky to sell half that much.

Official video for “Feed The Tree”

My Certain Songs Spotify Playlist:

Every “Certain Song” Ever

Certain Songs: Belle & Sebastian – “I’m A Cuckoo”

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Album: Dear Catastrophe Waitress.

Year: 2003.

What an uplifiting romp this song is!  And totally unexpected.

While they’d put out a bunch of great EPs in the years surrounding and following the epochal If You’re Feeling Sinister, Belle & Sebastian hadn’t even come close to putting out an album as good.  And honestly, as the 21st century dawned, it really kinda seemed – for all of Stuart Murdoch’s formidable songwriting chops –  like they were just going to fade away into the twee sunset.

Then Dear Catastrophe Waitress came out, signalling – via their version of glam rock, of all things – that Belle & Sebastian were in it for the long haul, that they were going to change up their music as needed. That record is epitomized by “I’m a Cuckoo,” featuring twin guitars, joyous horns, shuffle beat, call-and-response vocals and a chorus that I will sing until the day I die.

I’d rather be in Tokyo
I’d rather listen to Thin Lizzy-oh
Watch the Sunday gang in Harajuku
There’s something wrong with me, I’m a cuckoo

That “Thin Lizzy-oh” followed by the Thin Lizzy guitar lick absolutely kills me every single time.

Official video for “I’m a Cuckoo”

My Certain Songs Spotify Playlist:

Every “Certain Song” Ever

Certain Songs: Belle & Sebastian – “If You’re Feeling Sinister”

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Album: If You’re Feeling Sinister.

Year: 1996.

Normally, when something is absolutely perfect in its preciousness, I focus far more on the preciousness than the perfection. But not in the case of Belle & Sebastian’s wuss-rock classic If You’re Feeling Sinister, which I love almost as much as Love’s Forever Changes, which I’ve always seen as one of their key influences.

Maybe that’s why I’ve always loved this album – as epitomized by this almost-energetic title track – far more than antecedents like Prefab Sprout or Aztec Camera.  Not to mention, in 1995, after a half-decade of loud guitars, Belle & Sebastian felt nearly as radical of an indie-rock left turn as, say, The Chemical Brothers.

And just like The Chemical Brothers, this record gives me intense flashbacks of working at Organic Online in the middle of the dot-com era, when somebody (not just me!) would always seem to be putting this on the communal CD player that served as the soundtrack of building out the early websites for evil multinational corporations like Sony, Nike & McDonalds.

I’m sure I wasn’t the only person at that company who waited and waited for the genius chorus to finally show up as the song was half over.

But if you are feeling sinister
Go off and see a minister
He’ll try in vain to take away the pain of being a hopeless unbeliever

 “If You’re Feeling Sinister” on Spotify

 Pitchfork Oral History of Making of If You’re Feeling Sinister

My Certain Songs Playlist on Spotify

Every “Certain Song” Ever

Certain Songs: Beck – “Jack-Ass”

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Album: Odelay.

Year: 1996.

You know how the biggest critical knock against the Coen Brothers (who are quite possibly my favorite filmmakers currently going)  is that their films are often too technically accomplished for people to connect with emotionally? That’s kinda like how I feel about the music of Beck Hansen.

Which isn’t to say that I haven’t gone out and found – and usually appreciated – every Beck album since Mellow Gold, it’s just that I’ve found very few songs in all those years to fall in love it.

For the record, I have no doubt that Odelay is a masterpiece – it topped my year-end list for 1996, and has definitely held up over time – but I sure don’t listen to it all that much anymore. 

But this song – based around a sample of Van Morrison-approved keyboard part in Them’s cover of “It’s All Over Now Baby Blue” – transcends all of my objections because it’s so damn purty. Not to mention, lyrics that presaged his more “confessional” records:

I been drifiting along
In the same stale shoes
Loose ends tying a noose
In the back of my mind
If you thought that you were making your way
To where the puzzles and pagans lay
I’ll put it together:
It’s a strange invitation.

As far as “New Dylans” go (and Beck may have been one of the last of those), pretty damn great words.

But in a weird way, outside of Odelay, I don’t think that Beck has ended up having the career that we all expected, even though he’s never been less than interesting, but never really more, either.

Beck performing “Jack-Ass” on The Late Show With David Letterman, 1996.

My Certain Songs Playlist on Spotify

Every “Certain Song” Ever

Certain Songs #37: The Beatles – “The Abbey Road Medley”

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Album: Abbey Road
Year: 1969

Once upon a time – for a short period of time in the overall scheme of things – context mattered. Where a song was on an album actually made a difference in how you enjoyed that song.  Think of how “Behind Blue Eyes” set up “Won’t Get Fooled Again,” or how perfectly sequenced the first few songs on The Joshua Tree or The Velvet Underground were.

And of course, perhaps the best object lesson ever in song sequencing is the group of songs that make up the bulk of side two of Abbey Road. When I first fell in love with this as a teenager, I didn’t even realize that it was basically bookended by two pretty great McCartney songs, in between were sandwitched a Lennon mood piece (which I hated for years) and three half-finished rock songs, and concluded by a jam session.

And yes, it’s responsible for some terrible things in the name of “art rock” as bands attempted to stitch songs together into “suites” or songs with “movements” or even make an entire album of a single song. (Of course, it’s responsible for some great things: “Close to the Edge,” “Supper’s Ready” & “Shine On You Crazy Diamond, among others)

However, after 35 years of listening to these songs all together, I would argue that none of these songs really work well as standalones (even "You Never Give Me Your Money” and “Golden Slumbers / Carry That Weight” are basically pastiches), but as a whole, it’s a glorious monstrosity that somehow maintains consistency while continually changing mood.

Which is why the first thing I did when I started listening to the entire universe on eternal shuffle is get some audio editing equipment and create a single file so that I listen to these songs together, or not at all. (I also did that with side one of The Who Sell Out, which is a whole other thing.)

So I do wonder what future generations are going to make of this, as these songs come at them completely without context? I guess if anything is ever going to be experienced as a whole album, it’s going to be something by The Beatles.

Fan-made video for “The Abbey Road Medley”

My Certain Songs Playlist on Spotify

Every “Certain Song” Ever

Certain Songs #36: The Beatles – “I’ve Got a Feeling”

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Album: Let it Be
Year: 1969

So first off, of course I’m aware that Let it Be didn’t come out until 1970, but this performance of this song was from 1969, and I’m trying to go with performance dates over release dates if things were shelved for any time.  

Anyways, I first saw the film of Let it Be way back in either the late 1970s or early 1980s on HBO at my grandparents house in Bakersfield. It was weird and depressing – at that time, I was still trying to sort out The Beatles as a story with a beginning, middle and end as opposed to the overwhelming cultural presence with which I’d grown up – but two things stuck out in the middle of all of the fighting and anger: the snippet of “Dig it” and the entire rooftop performance of this song.

“I’ve Got a Feeling” is majestic and melancholy at the same time, and it has always struck me as more honest and real than anything else going on in their “Get Back” project. After all, in a weird way, Paul & John are formally showing just how much their paths have diverged by singing completely different songs at the same time.

BTW, it’s goddamn shame that the film of Let it Be isn’t commercially available in any way, shape and form 45 years after it was filmed. It might not be as uplifting as A Hard Day’s Night, but it’s equally as important as a way to understand The Beatles. Maybe more so.

 It’s almost as if the gatekeepers of The Beatles legend would prefer to keep them as overwhelming cultural presence as opposed to a story with a beginning, middle and end. Which is a shame, and extends – of course – to not being able to embed a proper clip of this song.

Fan-made video for “I’ve Got a Feeling”

My Certain Songs Playlist on Spotify

Every “Certain Song” Ever

Certain Songs #35: The Beatles – “Dear Prudence”

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Album: The Beatles.

Year: 1968.

INT – MAUREEN O’ SULLIVAN’S APARTMENT – THANKSGIVING 1986

Two sisters are having a heated discussion at the dinner table.

MIA FARROW
(excitedly)

… and I really think that if I get an Oscar nomination for Hannah, it might be the best thing that’s happened to any of us.

PRUDENCE FARROW

John Lennon wrote a song for me.

MIA FARROW

Oh sure, and I was married to Frank Sinatra, but you don’t see me bringing that up.

PRUDENCE FARROW

John Lennon wrote a song for me, and I didn’t even have to sleep with him. How many songs did Frank write for you?

MIA FARROW

Well, Woody’s written plenty of roles for me. (Yells offscreen) How many roles have you written for me, Woody?

WOODY ALLEN is watching a Knicks game in the living room, not even paying attention. He doesn’t respond.

PRUDENCE FARROW

John Lennon wrote a song for me. Woody Allen wrote some parts for you. John Lennon. Woody Allen. John Lennon. Woody Allen. I don’t see the comparison. (Yells offscreen) No offense, Woody!!

No response from Woody Allen

MIA FARROW

I mean, that song come out the same year as Rosemary’s Baby, almost 20 years ago!

PRUDENCE FARROW

John Lennon wrote a song for me. And not just any song. On the same album where he’s singing about how tired and suicidal he his, he also takes the time to write me a beautiful, hypnotic and ultimately cheerful song, full of endlessly swirling guitars, evoking the beautiful day that John Lennon wants me to come out and experience.  

Even that Gothic punk chick from England with the Indian – I’m sorry, I mean Native American – name couldn’t make it sound dark when she did that cover version a couple of years ago.

John Lennon wrote me a song, and he even used my real name. It’s one of the best things that could possibly happen to anybody

FADE TO WHITE

Fan-made video for “Dear Prudence”

My Certain Songs Playlist on Spotify

Every “Certain Song” Ever

Certain Songs #34: The Beatles – “Hello Goodbye”

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Single, 1967.

You say goodbye

Immediately and forever dismissed as a trifle – I mean it was overshadowed by its own b-side! – when compared to the titanic accomplishments of The Beatles in 1967, “Hello Goodbye” is a song for which I have no good defense loving as much as I do.

I say hello

Therefore, I blame Sir Paul McCartney’s impeccable popcraft for winnowing this song insidiously into my head, and would like to point out that while the 1966 Beatles is clearly one of my favorite things ever, my heart has never been deep into their 1967 music.

You say goodbye

And I also blame Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. Well, not the album, which, you know is Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, but rather the fact that it has been lionized as THE GREATEST MUSIC THAT ANYBODY HAS EVER DONE OR WILL EVER DO WORLD WITHOUT END AMEN for my entire life and I’ve never once agreed with that sentiment. I mean, I’ve never even thought it was the best Beatles album, for fuck’s sake.

I say hello

So that means while I’ve enjoyed and acknowledged the greatness of songs like “A Day in The Life” or “Strawberry Fields Forever” or “I Am The Walrus,” etc. maybe I’m subconsciously punishing them by being contrary and not loving them as much as conventional wisdom says I should.

You say goodbye

On the other hand, free of dealing with “Hello Goodbye” on anything but the level of just a pop song – my default preference – it turns out that I can listen to it endlessly hello goodbye hello goodbye hello goodbye hello goodbye.

I say hello

So in other words, the reason this has always been slagged – it’s lightweight, just wordplay, and nothing more than a great hook, but certainly NOT ART – is the reason I love it.

Aloha!

Official video for “Hello Goodbye”

Certain Songs: The Beatles – “She Said She Said”

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Album: Revolver.

Year: 1966.

This fucking thing. The beautiful fucking thing.

There is an entire lifetime between the initial “She said” … “I know what it’s like to be dead.” Or an entire deathtime, I guess. It’s one of the most beautiful uses of negative space in all of popular music.

I know that “Tomorrow Never Knows” is the more formal experiment on Revolver, the song on which Mad Men spent a zillion dollars to once and for all to show us the audience that former King of the World Don Draper was now old and out of it. And no doubt it – and all of Revolver – is a major achievement.

But I said …

…

…

…

…

…  "She Said She Said" is pretty damn close to my most favorite song in the universe, combining the trippy drums of “Rain,” the tough guitar of “Paperback,” that infinite edge-of-consciousness organ, and maybe the best lyrics John Lennon ever put on paper.

What it’s like to be dead, what it is to be sad, and making no distinction, so that sadness is the same as death. And death is like having never been born.

Of course, it could just be the drugs, because when I was a boy, I never even thought about this shit. Or maybe I’m just lying to myself.

Fan-made video for “She Said She Said”

My Certain Songs Playlist on Spotify

Every “Certain Song” Ever