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Certain Songs

Certain Songs #70: The Blow Monkeys – “Forbidden Fruit”

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Album: Animal Magic
Year: 1985

It will probably not surprise anybody when I confess that I’ve never been a big fan of U.K.-based blue-eyed dude soul singers. So you’re not ever going to find anything from Spandau Ballet, Simply Red, Style Council, Sam Smith etc. in this project. I know that all of these folks can sing and stuff, but it’s just not my scene.

Then, on the other hand, there is “Forbidden Fruit,” which is one of my favorite songs from the 1980s.  "Forbidden Fruit" features all of the things I dislike about the genre: overstuffed string-filled production, too-smooth guitars, tons of backing vocalists and a lead singer who knows exactly how good he sounds and can’t get enough of it.

But that horn line. Right? Oh. My. God. That horn line, slowly unfolding out towards heaven, where Otis Redding probably heard it and thought “damn, dawg, why didn’t I come up with that?”

If it was just that horn line, dayenu, but then there is this utterly gorgeous and perfect chorus, 

Do you know what I saw today?
A man blow himself away, over youuuuuuuuuuuuuu!!!!

In the mid-1980s, I probably sang that in my car and/or wrote it in my journal approximately  574,365,985,854 times as I skidded myself through various crushes and relationships.

“Forbidden Fruit” music video

My Certain Songs Spotify Playlist:

Every “Certain Song” Ever

Certain Songs #69: Blondie – “Dreaming”

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Album: Eat to the Beat.

Year: 1979.

For a four-year period between 1979 – 1982, Blondie were probably the premier singles act going. In terms of both quality and quantity, their only peers during that period were The Clash, The Police, Squeeze and, er Rush. But none of those acts cranked out as many singles that were as disparate, experimental AND popular.  And out of all of the classic Blondie singles from that era, my favorite is easily 1979’s “Dreaming”

And the reason I love “Dreaming” so much can be summed up in two words: Clem Burke.

I don’t know if it was Burke’s idea, or Chris Stein’s idea, or even producer Mike Chapman’s to allow Burke to do Keith Moon-style drumming underneath a pretty standard new wave tune, but it’s one of my most favorite drum performances on a huge hit single.

And the best part, of course, is the stop-time bit at the end of the bridge where Debbie Harry is so blown away, she can’t help tossing in a little “Whoo!”:

Fade away!

BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!

Whoo! Radiate!

Because Debbie Harry was so striking and such a great singer, the focus was always on her so much that the band countered with a “Blondie is a Group” campaign. Just in case you couldn’t tell from “Dreaming.”

“Dreaming” music video

My Certain Songs Spotify Playlist:

Every “Certain Song” Ever

Certain Songs: Bloc Party – “So Here We Are”

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Album: Silent Alarm.

Year: 2005.

When Silent Alarm came out a decade ago, it felt like a blast of fresh air. While completely identifiable as guitar-oriented indie rock, it somehow came across as indie rock by people who listened to everything else but. Like The Arcade Fire’s Funeral, it seemed to point the way towards whatever the future held.

While there were lots of great songs on Silent Alarm, the one that has always totally floored me was “So Here We Are.” A duet for jangly guitars that wouldn’t sound out of place on The Church’s Seance album, “So Here We Are” rides Matt Tong’s overly busy drums as the guitars – with every note exactly in place – switch up and then back again.

In the end, when Kele Okereke finally stops mumuring and exclaims “I’ve figured it out!” you’re really not sure what he’s figured out, but you’re willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Which is probably all he’s really asking for.

“So Here We Are” performed live at Glastonbury, 2007

My Certain Songs Spotify Playlist:

Every “Certain Song” Ever

Certain Songs #67: Black Uhuru – “Solidarity”

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Album: Anthem.

Year: 1984.

Oy, those mid-1980s synths. And double oy, those fucking syndrums, somehow taking a dub track that is basically a sparse bass, guitar, drums & synth  and making it sound overproduced.

But wow, this song.

Steven Van Zant has long had one of the most interesting and varied careers in all of popular culture, but one of the most fascinating was his short mid-80s stint as “Little Steven, political songwriter.” And “Solidarity” is pretty much the epitome of that time, tying the name of a freedom-oriented political movement with a lyric that could be a cousin to Sly’s “Everyday People:”

Everybody wants the same things don’t they
Everybody wants a happy end
They just want to see the game on Saturday
They wanna be somebody’s friend

As deconstructed by Black Uhuru on their Grammy-winning album Anthem, “Solidarity” gains a key element not found on Little Steven’s version – actual singing.  With Puma Jones and Duckie Simpson coming in on the choruses, and that damn synth weaving in and out and during the dub sections, when Michael Rose starts chanting “what we need! what we need!!” it feels like no one in the world is going to be able to keep him from getting it.

Official video for “Solidarity”

My Certain Songs Spotify Playlist:

Every “Certain Song” Ever

Certain Songs #66: Black Uhuru – “Youth of Eglington”

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Album: Red.

Year: 1981.

If memory serves, Red was on of the very first (non-Marley) full-out reggae albums I ever purchased, and I was instantly captivated by the opening track, “Youth of Eglington.”

A protest song written and sung by Michael Rose, “Youth of Eglington” is driven by a single, repeating guitar (or at least I think that’s a guitar) figure and in-and-out harmonies from Puma Jones and Duckie, “Youth of Eglington” was also the first time I ever heard the riddim section of Sly Dunbar and Robbie Shakespeare.  

It was obvious from that very first listen that they were monsters, masters of groove and hypnotism. Just on this song, listen how Robbie lays back on the verses, and then just totally drives the chorus straight through to completion.

In 1981, reggae was still pretty new and alien to me. Of course it was all over my beloved Clash albums; Tim had turned me on to Catch a Fire and Burnin,’  and I’d also gone out found the seminal soundtracks to The Harder They Come and Rockers. 

But most of that was rummaging around in the past. Red was different: it was contemporary reggae by a relatively new artist, meaning that it was forward-looking, and hopefully the tip of a music that was moving forward and could even take over the world in the 1980s.

“Youth of Eglington” performed live in 1981

My Certain Songs Spotify Playlist:

Every “Certain Song” Ever

Certain Songs #65: Black Sabbath – “Megalomania”

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Album: Sabotage
Year: 1975

“Megalomania” is a weird beast, even for a Black Sabbath song.  It starts on the heels of the acoustic fade-out of “Symptom of the Universe” with a slow, doomy death march, where Ozzy is singing about – what else?? – insanity and wanting to be be left alone with his madness.

Why don’t you just get out of my life, yeah?
Why don’t you just get out of my life now?
Why doesn’t everybody leave me alone now?
Why doesn’t everybody leave me alone, yeah?

But after a few minutes of this, Iommi switches the song into an uptempo – if not one of his more memorable – riff, and driven by Bill Ward’s cowbell, the song kicks in for good. For the rest of the way, it alternates between that riff and a chorus that – musically, at least – is almost good-time rock ‘n’ roll.

The cool thing is that everytime they return to that not really memorable riff, they’ve overdubbed more guitars. And more guitars. And more guitars..

By the end of the song, they’ve actually overdubbed more guitar parts than there are guitars in the universe.

Fan-made lyric video for “Megalomania”

My Certain Songs Spotify Playlist:

Every “Certain Song” Ever

Certain Songs #64: Sonic Youth – “Skip Tracer”

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Album: Washing Machine
Year: 1995

. . .

“HELLO, 2015!”

“HELLO … 20 …15!!!”

That’s what Lee Renaldo shouts at the end of this spoken-word piece with guitars, bass and drums near the end of Sonic Youth’s last universally acclaimed album.  It’s not really about the future, but rather about seeing a band stumble through a live performance. But, to me, that “Hello, 2015” felt like a declaration of purpose.

Here’s what I wrote about it with my very first Pazz & Jop critics poll ballot in 1995:

“Hello 2015!” Lee Ranaldo screams, somewhat optimistically, near the end of this record, just before they launch us on a sparkling sailing voyage towards that very year.

It’s like, for the first time, they’ve really considered their place in our past and, more importantly, in their future. And they like what they see. And if they keep making records this strong and loose, they just might meet themselves on the other side.

In 1995, when Washing Machine came out, 2015 seemed an impossible distance away. Another century, another millennium, another universe. And yet, out of all of the bands active in 1995, I was sure that Sonic Youth was going to be one of the ones still standing here on New Years Day 2015 and shout back “Hello, 1995” as they did an All Tomorrows Parties set of Washing Machine in its entirety.

Meanwhile, 1995 still seems impossibly close, like if I turned around and walked around that corner over there, I’d be able to say hello to it. For much of 1995 I was living in Oakland and Rox was living in Hollywood, and – just like Ranaldo points out earlier in the song – LA was the most confusing place I’d ever been to.

Of course, little did I know 20 years ago that by the time 2015 rolled around, I’d have been living here for over 13 years, with that initial confusion (you drive SOUTH to get to the ocean?) long since dissipated. 

So hello, 2015. Please be better.

“Skip Tracer”

Certain Songs #63: Black Sabbath – “Symptom of the Universe”

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Album: Sabotage
Year: 1975

While Paranoid is generally considered the greatest Black Sabbath album, and Master of Reality is often cited as the most inflential, my favorite Sabbath album has long been their 6th album, the eternally underrated Sabotage.  And my favorite track on Sabotage – quite possibly my favorite Sabbath song ever – is “Symptom of the Universe.”

Anchored by maybe the last of the classic early Iommi riffs (filled to the brim by Geezer Butler’s bass, natch), “Symptom of the Universe” comes chugging out of the gate even faster than “Paranoid,” with plenty of space for Bill Ward to remind contemporaries like Ian Paice (and warn newbies like Neal Peart) that he knows his way around a drum fill. And Ozzy has never sounded better as he’s screaming “a symptom of the universe is written in your eyes!!”

Pure speed. Pure power. Pure Sabbath.  

But then, after one of those Iommi guitar solos that sounds like angry hornets suddenly attacking from out of the sunshine – the song suddenly changes into an acoustic guitar jam not unlike the one at the end of the Rolling Stones “Can’t You Hear Me Knocking.” Nary an electric guitar is heard again, instead, it’s 666 overdubbed acoustic Tony Iommis all playing off of each other

In no way, shape or form should this ending work after the proto thrash metal that started the song, and yet it does, working as a chill room for anybody overwhelmed by the first part of the song.

No speed. Hidden power. Pure Sabbath.

Video for “Symptom of the Universe”

My Certain Songs Spotify Playlist:

Every “Certain Song” Ever

Certain Songs #62: Black Sabbath – “Sabbath Bloody Sabbath”

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Album: Sabbath Bloody Sabbath
Year: 1973

It’s weird: I’m discovering that my favorite Black Sabbath songs are so ingrained in me, I’m having trouble figuring out what to say about them. Like for example, “Sabbath Bloody Sabbath.”  

Do I point out that’s one of their great multi-part songs? Do I walk you through how it starts with a typically doomy multi-part riff in the verses before dropping into an acoustic chorus? And that it features a relatively organic Iommi solo prior to becoming a completely different song?  And that at the end, it changes again, with a nearly-psychedelic storm of guitars, some of which might even be backwards?

Or do I point out that because it was their fifth album in a little under 4 years, the strain is definitely beginning to show, especially on Ozzy’s voice? So much so that you can practically see him straining to hit the notes he hears in his head when he sings “Whe-aaairrrr can you run to?”

Maybe I’ll just I point out that it doesn’t matter, because I simply love how Ozzy screams “You BASTARDS!!!!” just before Iommi’s solo? For sure should  point out that for nearly 40 years I’ve been playing this song just to hear Ozzy sing:

Sabbath, bloody sabbath
Nothing more to do
Living just for dying
Dying just for you
Yeah!!

… which is followed by one last amazing Iommi riff that would power an entire song by a lesser band before jumping into that nearly-psychedelic coda?

Video for “Sabbath Bloody Sabbath”

My Certain Songs Spotify Playlist:

Every “Certain Song” Ever

Certain Songs #61: Black Sabbath – “Paranoid”

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Album: Paranoid
Year: 1970

Contrary to popular mythology, it is my firm belief that Black Sabbath’s overarching lyrical theme wasn’t really Satan or whatever ( :: makes devil horns ::), but rather, mental health. Especially the type of mental health issues where the sufferer is continually worried about their sanity.

Since neither Ozzy (or Geezer Butler, who wrote a ton of the lyrics) could ever be mistaken for subtle, it’s right there in song after song:  "Fairies Wear Boots,“ "Am I Going Insane,” “Megalomania,” and of course, their most popular song, the actual world-wide hit single “Paranoid.”  

Anchored by a speedy, bass-filled repeating riff, with drummer Bill Ward heavying it up by lagging behind the beat, “Paranoid” is the musical and lyrical link between Led Zeppelin and the Ramones, and – unlike most great Black Sabbath songs – short, simple and to the point.

“Paranoid” performed in 1970

My Certain Songs Spotify Playlist:

Every “Certain Song” Ever