Tag: Valentines Day
(Belated) Love Songs, ’11.
“So baby don’t worry, you are my only, You won’t be lonely, even if the sky is falling down, You’ll be my only, no need to worry, Baby are you down down down down down?” One of the unfortunate casualties of the work-bomb and accompanying radio silence the past ten days was the annual Valentine’s Day music post (’05, ’06, ’07, ’08, ’09. ’10.) D’oh!
To rectify the V-day oversight in part, below are a few peppier-than-usual ditties to help winter ease into spring. If, like me and the ladyfriend — yes, I’m very happily un-single these days! — you’re a fellow Dance Central enthusiast, or for that matter just a proponent of #gettngslizzard, you’ll recognize several of these.
“Push me, and then just touch me, tll I can get my satisfaction…“
“Fear and panic in the air, I want to be free from desolation and despair…“
“I get my kicks on channel Six. I get my kicks on channel Six…“
And, until next year…
Happy belated V-day, y’all.
Love Songs ’10.
A very happy Valentines Day to you and yours. To keep tradition going for its sixth year here at GitM — ’05, ’06, ’07, ’08, ’09 — time for the yearly musical valentines from yours truly.
First off, in keeping with the usual once-a-year romantic status-update, you’ll be happy to know that this 2010 post actually comes with 44% less whining than usual. (Yay, and there was much rejoicing.) I am still single on this end, as per the norm, which means my trusty sheltie sidekick is once again holding down the official valentine spot. (Aw, he got me Bioshock 2. How did he know I wanted it?) But, having at last escaped the egregious emotional, financial, and general personal sandtrap that is late-term gradual school, it’s safe to say I’m in a much happier place these days. And, since returning to DC, a town that’s been swell to me so far, I’ve at least been taking a few swings at the plate lately. So, no wallowing this V-day. I’m in a pretty good place, all in all, and hope springs eternal. In any event, on to the music:
So many places we can go!
I’m better than a Real World quest
You’ll touch my +5 to Dexterity Vest.
What role do you want to play?
I’m just a click away, night or day.
And if you think I’m not the one,
Log off, log off and we’ll be done…”
But can she kite the adds? First off, as always, I offer some quality cheese: Singlehandedly raising unrealistic expectations for gamergrrls the world (of Warcraft) over, The Guild‘s fetching Felicia Day scored a massive (multiplayer) online hit last summer with the supremely catchy “Do You Wanna Date (My Avatar)?” In some ways a peppy, poppy update to Kraftwerk’s “Computer Love” (which led off the order in ’06) this was one of two songs I heard in the past year that I knew — immediately — would make it into this post.
Now, having spent more than my fair share of time MMO’ing over the past few years — everybody say hi to Jacklowry — it’s safe to say that the bubbly, infectious enthusiasm that drives this track isn’t really a huge part of games like Warcraft. (In fact, everyone usually seems vaguely depressed — There’s a reason why some of the biggest facets of WoW-life are “grinding” levels and “farming” mats. If you take it seriously, it sorta becomes a day job.) But, all that being said, Day and The Guild crew know their WoW — how ’bout a little tank-and-spank? — and they’ve delivered a ditty that works as both a fun and knowing riff on the MMO life and a silky, effervescent pop song all on its own. Great job, y’all…Lvl 80 rogue lf healbot pst?
Why did you leave me, all alone?
Now you tell me you need me,
When you call me, on the phone.
Girl I refuse, you must have me confused
With some other guy
Your bridges were burned, and now it’s your turn
To cry, cry me a river.”
Don’t it make you sad about it? This song probably needs no introduction — most everybody knows it, and I’m sure a lot of people are totally sick of the durned thing. Still, since the last song, however cheesy, is already a gamer standard and perhaps not nearly as embarrassing a guilty pleasure as I’ve tended to offer in years past, I give you JT’s “Cry Me a River.”
It’s easy to playa-hate Justin Timberlake, and to be honest, I think I can only name three or four songs of his anyway. Still, I’d argue this well-crafted track and “SexyBack” put JT as the truly deserving 21st century pop heir to, say, Stevie Wonder or Michael Jackson. He’s got the pipes, he’s got the beats, he’s got the production values, the dance moves, and the marketing savvy, and to my mind “Cry Me a River” just holds it own as a classically catchy pop ditty. And when the scorned lasses of this world roll out Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive” as their peppy post-break-up standard on the dance floor, I in turn will call forth this track, Pokemon-style. Game on.
your hair upon the pillow like a sleepy golden storm.
Yes, many loved before us, I know that we are not new,
in city and in forest they smiled like me and you.
But now it’s come to distances and both of us must try,
Your eyes are soft with sorrow,
And I know when to say goodbye.
While I threw up some Dylan in both ’06 and ’07, I try not to repeat artists just yet for these V-Day posts. Still, while the sublime “I’m Your Man” — which quite possibly can’t be topped as a V-Day song — was part of the 2007 mix, I’m going with Leonard Cohen’s “That’s No Way to Say Goodbye” this year from Live in London. Not only because it is beautiful, but because, frankly, I played the hell out of this record over the past year.
When he’s at his best, as he is throughout Live in London, Cohen’ sheer rawness — his naked, direct emotion — cuts like a knife. He’s not one to dabble in misdirection, or to try to obscure his feelings with extended metaphors. He just goes right to the heart of it, every time.
With that in mind, I much prefer this version of “That’s No Way to Say Goodbye” to the original 1967 version. At times, the young Cohen sounds too callow to me. It took years, even decades, for his voice to catch up to the power of his poetry. And the slight change in lyrics here — Now it’s “I know when to say goodbye” — helps push this ballad from petulance to poignance. It’s one of many transcendant moments on this superlative album.
But it’s of her I dream.
if I could sleep forever
I could forget about everything…“
And, really, who doesn’t love sleep? As a love-song sorbet of sorts, here’s The Dandy Warhols’ “Sleep.” Like Brian Eno’s “By this River” and Hot Chip’s “Crap Kraft Dinner” (written up in ’09), this is one of those songs I find endlessly soothing. It could just play on and on like this for twenty minutes and I’d be blissfully content…perhaps eventually nodding off, fading away into the wilderness of dream…
Playing with this bow and arrow
Gonna give my heart away
Leave it to the other boys to play
Been tempted for too long
Go on, give me a reason to love you
Give me a reason to wanna be your man
Give me a reason to love you
Give me a reason if you can.”
As I said back when hyping Third in 2008, Portishead’s Dummy was one of those ubiquitous albums for a few years there in the mid-nineties, with the most memorable track therein possibly being “the second single, “Glory Box.” I include the late guitarist John Martyn’s cover of “Glory Box” here not because it’s an improvement on the original — they’re both amazing — but because it captures so well that song’s hothouse sultriness, while managing to sound quite different in the end (and switching the gender dynamic.)
Also of note on this subject: Portishead’s “Scorn,” the ice-cold B-side version of this same song. I love how it completely inverts the sensation of the original tune, just by switching the beats involved. Now, the whole song plays out atop that sensual, brooding oil-tanker rhythm only heard when everything goes wobbly in the original version. And, conversely, only in the climax of this mix are the original lyrical strings heard, like a moment of clear-thinking grace before the hammers descend anew. (The Youtube of “Scorn” below cuts out the end, unfortunately, although you can hear the whole mix here.)
Laying everybody low with a love song that he made.
Finds a streetlight, steps out of the shade
Says something like, ‘You and me babe, how about it?’
Juliet says, ‘Hey, it’s Romeo, you nearly gave me a heart attack!’
He’s underneath the window, she’s singing, ‘Hey la, my boyfriend’s back.’
You shouldn’t come around here singing up to people like that…
Anyway, what you gonna do about it?”
You and me, babe, how ’bout it? Now, if forced, with a gun to my head, to pick the Dire Straits’ absolute finest hour, I’d have to go with “Sultans of Swing”, that testament to resolute keep-on-keepin’-on long after the crowd’s gone home and all the midnight oil is burned. Still, their brief retelling of “Romeo & Juliet” is an unabashedly lovely song indeed. (Full disclosure: This was, in fact, the favorite tune of one of my former ex’s, a long, long time ago. But, no plagiarism here. I ended up earning this streetlight serenade’s stripes myself…the hard way. Anyway, let’s move on.)
There are a lot of covers of “Romeo & Juliet” floating around — Indigo Girls, The Killers, Edwin McCain — but none of ’em really do the simple beauty of this song justice. Also, the original Dire Straits video is also online, but frankly it’s so bad and ridiculously Eighties-ish that it detracts from the timelessness of the tune. No wonder they later plunked down big dollars for “Money for Nothing“…
It’s like a story of love
Can you hear me?
Came back only yesterday
Moving farther away
Want you near me…
All i needed was the love you gave
All i needed for another day,
And all i ever knew,
Only you.”
As I’ve said ’round here many times, I’m a big Depeche Mode fan from way back. (Their “Here is the House” went up here in ’06.) And I think they became a better, darker, richer band in 1982 with Vince Clarke’s departure after Speak & Spell, when Martin Gore took over the songwriting full-time.
Still, with all due respect to melancholy Marty, Vince Clarke always had a way with a happy three-chord love song that the minor-key-obsessed DM never ever really got back to. Case in point: Yaz’s “Only You” (as well as almost all of Erasure’s many hits over the years.) There are no regrets or guilt or religious allusions or teenage scared-stiff-of-sex angst or black cars driving around in the distance. It’s just a simple, very pretty ode to that one special person.
There are a lot of very good tracks on the better of Yaz’s two albums, Upstairs at Eric — “Don’t Go,” “Situation,” and “Winter Kills,” for example. Still, I’d put “Only You” as the pick of the litter: It’s the perfect blend of Vince Clarke synth-pop and Alison Moyet soul.
It could just float away on a breeze!
(he said the same thing to me)
How can we ever know
We’ve found the right person in this world?
(he means he looks at other girls)
Love is a mystery, It does not follow the rules!
(this guy is a fool)
(he’ll always be a boy, he’s a man who never grew up)
I thought I told you to shut up…”
The first time you get dumped, it feels like a tragedy. It just plain sucks. The second time, it…well, actually it’s even worse. And by the third or fourth time, you start to really wonder what’s wrong with you. But, after enough iterations of the dismal cycle, as the Conchords’ “Carol Brown” points out, it does become farce. And a really funny one, for that matter.
Along with Felicia Day at the top, this is the other song I knew I was going to post here this year as soon as I heard it. The Flight of the Conchords’ second season included a lot of really hilarious tunes: “Hurt Feelings” (and its reprise), “Too Many Dicks on the Dance Floor,” “Fashion is Danger.” But “Carol Brown” is, imho, their magnum opus. It’s funny on its own terms (as well as a great riposte to Paul Simon’s smarmy “50 Ways to Leave Your Lover.”) But, more importantly, it’s just a funky-sweet song with truthiness to spare. (The Michel Gondry video is great too.)
I’m sure most of y’all out there know the old Annie Hall joke: “This guy goes to a psychiatrist and says, ‘Doc, uh, my brother’s crazy; he thinks he’s a chicken.’ And, uh, the doctor says, ‘Well, why don’t you turn him in?’ The guy says, ‘I would, but I need the eggs.’ Well, I guess that’s pretty much now how I feel about relationships; y’know, they’re totally irrational, and crazy, and absurd, and…but, uh, I guess we keep goin’ through it because, uh, most of us…need the eggs.“
That’s the gag that “Carol Brown” gets so well. The whole song is a litany of ugly dumpings for most of its run. But every time that peal chimes (at 1:15) and the angelic chorus kicks in for the first time (“He doesn’t cook or clean…“), you can hear exactly why Jemaine — and so many others of us, for that matter — keep leading chin first regardless. Carol Brown took a bus out of town…but I’m hoping the next gal sticks around.
That’ll do for ’10, I think. Have a safe and happy Valentines Day, everybody. I’ll see y’all on the flip side. And, until next year…
Love Songs ’09.
Happy belated valentine’s day, all. I know this is a few days late now, but just to keep the streak going (’05, ’06, ’07, ’08), here’s the usual yearly song-blog entry. And with that, the obligatory V-day, behind-the-curtain status-update: Well, as per the norm, I’m as single as a one-dollar-bill. (The last time I had an actual, honest-to-goodness valentine on this day, l’il Berk notwithstanding, was in 2004. Before that, 2000.) At any rate, it’s now been years since the last gal, figuring she could do better, left with a shrug and disappeared forever…just like the one before and the one before that. And, since then and right up to now, there’s been no one in sight.
This obviously can get to be a little depressing, and, now that I’ve reached my mid-thirties by myself, I sometimes struggle with bitterness over it. Didn’t virtually every movie, tv show, song, and book I’ve ever consumed consistently promise I’d have someone in my corner? It’s not like I’ve been a bad guy. (Then again, all the evidence tends to suggest that that might well have been part of the problem. Like the old Stephen Wright joke, women have often told me I’m “wonderful” …usually right as they kick my sorry ass to the curb.)
But, oh well. I’ve got my health, my faculties, and a First World quality-of-life, so I’m already way ahead in the game compared to a lot of folks out there. And to be honest, I’ve got enough problems on my plate right now without getting pulverized yet again by someone else’s caprice anyway. Besides, given my current steady-jobless, apartment-less, penniless, PhD-less existence, which, frankly, seems less and less “transitional” as the months go by, I probably wouldn’t date me either. (As a colleague noted, nostalgically studying the depression era is turning out to be quite a bit more preferable than actually living it.)
So, no worries. Some politically-minded freelance writing gigs should get me through the next couple of months even if no steady employ is forthcoming, and one day soon, I’m sure, I’ll rise like a phoenix from the ashes of my current lowly existence. And, lo, it’ll be a New Day…just like on The Wire. At any rate, to the music:
Told you I’ll be here forever
Said I’ll always be your friend
Took an oath, I’mma stick it out ’till the end
Now that it’s raining more than ever
Know that we still have each other
You can stand under my umbrella…
As with ABBA last year and Kraftwerk in ’06, I like to kick this post off with a happy, guilty pleasure. This year, it’s Rihanna’s “Umbrella”. Yes, it got played into the ground during its single run, even getting its own Clinton v. Obama version on Mad TV last year. But, just as with Titanic, sometimes things are popular for a reason. With its Jay-Z opening, infectious hook, not-very-oblique double entendre, and inescapable chorus, “Umbrella” is pure, unadulterated pop, and a perfect lyrical counterpart to another quality hip-hop ballad, Method Man’s “All I Need”. (“Even when the skies were gray, you’d rub me on my back and say ‘baby, it’ll be ok.’ Now that’s real to a brotha like me baby…”) And now, with a lot of things “comin’ down with the Dow Jones” in this current economy, “Umbrella” is starting to sound more and more like one of the quintessential 21st-century Depression-era ballads, the kind you might find on “Sister, Can You Spare a Dime?”-type mixes fifty years hence.
[Note: I thought about writing up “Umbrella” this year before the unfortunate Chris Brown situation last week, which can’t help but inflect the song negatively. At first, I figured it might be in poor taste now and that I should choose some other pop song. But, in the end, I just decided to go with it anyway — hopefully, the song stands on its own, and will continue to long after recent events have receded.]
“Yes indeed, I’m alone again.
And here comes emptiness crashing in.
It’s either love or hate, I can’t find in between,
’cause I’ve been with witches and I’ve been with the queen.
It wouldn’t have worked out anyway.
So now it’s just another lonely day…”
On the other side of the emotional spectrum from “Umbrella”, Ben Harper’s “Another Lonely Day” is an acoustic, bone-dry lament to the most recent smash-up. (“Yesterday seems like a life ago, ’cause the one I love today, I hardly know.“) To be honest, there are elements of this otherwise-beautiful break-up song that rankle. Unlike, say, Chris Isaak (listen to anything on Forever Blue) or Tom Waits (last year‘s “Make it Rain” for example), this reads like an I-got-dumped song by a guy who’s never, ever been dumped. (“I’d rather walk alone than chase you around.” Oh, it’s your call, then? How nice that you have the hand. “Further along, we just may?” Again, not up to you, pal.) If, as the song says, this final kiss-off is of Harper’s doing, I wish it’d had more of the conflicted brio of U2’s “So Cruel” or most any of Dylan’s impressive stable of “It’s been real, it’s been fun, hasn’t been real fun” farewells. But, not to lose the forest for the trees, “Another Lonely Day” is still close to perfect in its simple, painful delicacy, and it definitely well captures that grim “Solitary Man” sensation of “Ugh. Here we are again.”
*********
Feeling like I needed you,
Like I’m walking up surrounded by me,
A&E.“
Ever looked at the words of a song you thought you knew decently well and discovered that it’s not at all about what you thought it was? (I would guess a lot of Republicans had this experience when discovering that “Born in the USA” wasn’t even close to a pro-Reagan anthem of the heartland.) This happened to me just this past week when I decided to write up Goldfrapp’s A&E. Given the upbeat tempo, the video, and the snippets of lyrics I knew, I always thought this song was about someone slowly emerging out of the clouds of a bad break-up and enjoying a day outdoors. (“It’s a blue, bright blue Saturday, and the pain’s starting to slip away.“) But, I was wrong. Reading more closely, it seems the “backless dress” is a hospital gown, A&E is the British term for the ER, and Alison Goldfrapp is basically waking up druggy after a botched “Then he’ll be sorry!” suicide attempt. (“I think I want you still, but it may be pills at work.“) Uh, oops.
Ok, so this is less like Bjork’s All is Full of Love” and more like The Sundays’ “Here’s where the Story Ends” than I originally thought. Still, it’s a great song, and not half as depressing as it reads on the page. Goldfrapp more often go for cinematic Portishead-like atmosphere (Felt Mountain) or sultry, come-hither dance numbers (“Ooh, La La,” “Strict Machine”), and I’m a big fan of both settings. Still, the organic, pastoral feel of Seventh Tree is a grower, as is “A&E.”
*********
All the people that I love can’t hear.
All the people I love are drunk.
All the people that I love aren’t here.”
After getting “A&E” wrong, I’m not even going to try to make heads or tails of the lyrics to Hot Chip’s obscenely catchy “Crap Kraft Dinner”, a current staple of my driving time. At first it just seems to be about a happy, drunken party buzz (i.e. the exact opposite of “This Place is a Prison,” by The Postal Service.) But, eventually amid the haze, there’s clearly somebody missing, and/or sort of break-up happening. (“All you can hear is my refusal, ’cause i haven’t got the time for a jerk-off loser.“) Regardless, both strands intertwine, then fade into that sweet, melancholic outro. Like Brian Eno’s “By this River,” this isn’t really a love song per se, but one I find strangely soothing.
*********
The fame, the vanity, the glitz, the stories.
One day I’ll become a great big star.
You know like the big dipper.
And maybe one day you can visit my condo.
On the big hill you know like 9-0-2-1-0…“
Speaking of obscenely catchy , Felix the Housecat’s “Madame Hollywood” isn’t a love song either. And, granted, almost every cut featuring Ms. Kittin has almost exactly the same “ritzy, raunchy, and bored” monologue somewhere therein. (Cases in point: “Frank Sinatra,” “1982,” “Nurse.”) So I don’t have much to say about this one, except that I could listen to the crisp, old-school-Modish backbeat that drives this track for just about forever.
*********
“And have you ever wanted something so badly that it possessed your body and your soul, through the night and through the day, until you finally get it…and then you realize that it wasn’t what you wanted after all? And then those selfsame, sickly little thoughts now go and attach themselves to something — or somebody — new! And the whole goddamn thing starts all over again…”
Well, I’ve been crushing the symptoms, but I can’t locate the cause. Unfortunately, The The’s “True Happiness This Way Lies”, the stand-up-routine opening track to Dusk, one of my desert-island discs, doesn’t appear to yet be on the Youtubes. (That is, aside from one well-intentioned misfire of a cover.) [Update: It is now. Added below.] But in it is distilled much of what makes Matt Johnson’s better albums (Dusk, Soul Mining) so powerful — the relentless self-questioning (“Slow Emotion Replay“), the soaked-through melancholy (“This is the Day“), the dismal sensation of being endlessly driven astray by one’s passions (“The Dogs of Lust.”) So, for the next day or two, and as per the old-school method around here, you can grab this track here. And remember: The only true freedom is freedom from the heart’s desire…and the only true happiness this way lies.
Happy (belated) Valentine’s, y’all.
Love Songs ’08.
Happy Valentines’ Day, everyone. As per previous years (2005, 2006, 2007), I’ve gone ahead and thrown up some songs for the day (for the first time via the magic of Youtube.) The obligatory once-a-year update from behind-the-curtain: Sadly, no romantic life to speak of around here, uh, whatsoever. But, that’s fine. Particularly given that my last serious break-up metastasized into Something Awful, and I spent basically all of 2007 with a virulent case of the broken-hearted blues, I’m actually feeling pretty happy about being single right now. Even as little as two months ago, I might’ve gotten defensive about it, and, to paraphrase our dear Senator from New York, grumbled that “false hope” is not a luxury I can afford to indulge in at the moment. But, these days, all the old wounds feel cauterized, and I’m actually just content to live as I am, I am Legend-style, with Berk, new movies, the most exciting election in a generation, and goodly amounts of dissertoral work taking up my plate. There are much worse ways to spend your days. Anyway, to the music:
If Kraftwerk’s “Computerlove” didn’t tip you off two years ago, there’s a certain kind of cheesy, toe-tapping, heart-on-your-sleeve love song to which I’m highly susceptible. Yep, I’ll admit it, occasionally I can be a huge softy. I saw Titanic five times…in the theater. I’ll go hit the dance floor when somebody plays Madonna. I thought “Cry Me a River” was an inordinately good pop song. And I’ll admit to digging such obviously embarrassing groaners as “Always,” “Truly Madly Deeply,” and “Your Body is a Wonderland.” (Hey, admit it: Sometimes, only sometimes, you must be as embarrassing as me.) Still, I figured, if you’re really going to commit to outing your cheesy streak this Valentine’s Day, you might as well go straight to the source. Sigh…so, here it is. All I’ll say is, God help me, I can’t not smile and shimmy a little when I hear this tune.
Sunlight, sunlight fills my room
It’s sharp and it’s clear
But nothing at all like the moon….
From its fragile opening to its shimmering close, “If You Wear that Velvet Dress” may just be U2’s sultriest song. (I mentioned this the other day, but I’d have loved to hear this one through the IMAX system during U2 3D.) As in Achtung Baby‘s jauntier “So Cruel” (today’s U2 runner-up), all is not right with Bono and his ladyfriend here — The end is obviously near, but neither party wants to talk about it. (“It’s ok, the struggle for things not to say. I never listened to you anyway.“) In fact, the two have fallen into a self-destructive pattern that’s only making things worse. (“We’ve been here before, last time you scratched at my door.“) But, when the moon is in the sky, and she’s wearing that velvet dress, the clock stops, and nothing else matters. (This isn’t the official video — I’m not sure if there even is one — but it gets the point across: Whatever else is going on, something about that certain someone under a certain light will always take your breath away.) [Update: The fan video is down now — it’s just the song below.]
(See also the Live in Rotterdam version.)
I’m close to Heaven, crushed at the gates,
They sharpen their knives on my mistakes.
It’s the same old world, but nothing looks the same…Make it rain.
I ran a Leonard Cohen ballad (“I’m Your Man”) last year, and Tom Waits is of the same gravelly, take-no-prisoners persuasion. But while the older Cohen sings with grim resignation, and often sounds like he’s got a handle on his heartbreak (even when he clearly doesn’t — see “In My Secret Life“) Waits is flailing about in the center of the maelstrom. You’ll either see it or you won’t, I guess, but I find this performance of “Make it Rain” from Letterman a few years ago almost frightening in its intensity. It’s like Waits crawled out from the black, primordial, whiskey-soaked depths of the male Id to bellow away his rage and hurt. (He can sometimes ruminate on the happy times too, of course, such as in this lovely waltz (and a close runner-up for this post), “All the World is Green.”) One wretched soul’s undiluted howl of pain, anchored and drowning in a bluesy murk, “Make it Rain” is a song to beware of in concentrated doses. (But, as Bob Dylan once said of another classic, play it f**king loud.)
It’s the poison that in measures brings illuminating vision.
It’s the knowing with a wink that we expect in southern women.
It’s the wolf that knows which root to dig to save itself.
It’s the octopus that crawled back to the sea.
Instinct. Gut. Feeling…feelings.
Looking at the ledger of my 33 years thus far on Earth, I’d say I’ve been in love four times and had three all-consuming (unrequited) crushes, none of which I will delve into here. Nevertheless, for those seven women — and, even though none of you are in my life anymore, y’all know who you are — this one’s for you.
You’ll be taken care of
You’ll be given love
You have to trust it
Maybe not from the sources
You’ve poured yours into
Maybe not from the directions
You are staring at
Twist your head around
It’s all around you“
As a bonus track, I’m recycling this one from 2005, and why not? Even notwithstanding all the imagery from this jaw-droppingly beautiful Chris Cunningham video that I’ve pilfered for GitM over the years, it’s really the best Valentine’s Day message one can hope for. So, happy V-Day, y’all. Have a safe and happy one.
Love Songs ’07.
Oof, Valentine’s Day. Not a holiday I’ve been looking forward to of late, even if it does provide the chance to write up some favorite songs here, as per recent tradition. As many of y’all surely know, V-Day and all the attending hoopla is rarely much fun when you’re single, and it’s even worse when you’re walking wounded, as I’d number myself these days. To wit: Late last year, I got kicked right in the teeth by someone I was really fond of, and even though it’s been many months now since it all went down — long enough that I really should’ve just gotten over it and moved on — most days since then are sadly still kind of a struggle.
But, oh well…no hope, no harm, just another false alarm. I’ve loitered on the Injured List before — in fact, you could say much of my adult romantic life has been Grant Hillish to the extreme, all burgeoning potential cut short by season-ending injuries — so I’m pretty sure, at an intellectual level if not yet a gut one, I’ll get back in the game someday. In the meantime, here’s some music for ya. Usual rules apply: the files will be only up for a few days, right-click to save them, and please don’t link to them directly.
things fall apart, and tend to shatter
she like that s**t don’t matter
when I get home get at her
through letter, phone, whatever
let’s link, let’s get together
s**t you think not, think the Thought went home and forgot?”
For all the genre’s many strengths, the slice-of-life relationship song isn’t normally what you’d consider a central feature of hip-hop. Cuts like Method Man’s “All I Need,” Outkast’s “Mrs. Jackson,” or the Tribe’s “Bonita Applebaum” notwithstanding, shake-your-booty jams and odes to the playa lifestyle outnumber romantic ditties by at least five or six to one. “You Got Me,” from the Roots’ 1999 album Things Fall Apart, numbers among the exceptions.
Co-written by Jill Scott (who performed the song in Dave Chappelle’s Block Party and on tour for the Roots) and co-sung by Eykah Badu (on the original cut and video), “You Got Me” is a story of a meet-cute (“We used to live in the same building on the same floor and never met before until I’m overseas on tour“) that grows into a relationship that works despite the odds (“When you out there in the world, I’m still your girl“), and despite the loose talk all around. (“Lies come in, that’s where the drama begins.“)
It ain’t easy for the couple in “You Got Me,” but they’re making do. They got each other, and most of the time, that’s enough to get by. (And bonus points for ?uestlove’s infectious drum-and-bass outro — our time with this pair ends with the fade, but their story clearly continues.)
You Got Me — The Roots feat. Erykah Badu (3.9MB, 4:19)
(song removed)
From Things Fall Apart.
[Update:]
Relationships have all been bad.
Mine’ve been like Verlaine’s and Rimbaud.
But there’s no way I can compare
All those scenes to this affair,
Yer gonna make me lonesome when you go.“
I picked a Bob Dylan song last year (“Most of the Time”), and I freely admit that, however brilliant, Blood on the Tracks is now one of the hoariest of breakup-album cliches. Still, “You’re Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go” was on my mind a lot over the past year (see also my review of The Fountain), so it’s going up anyway (and, hell, maybe I’ll pick a Dylan song every Valentine’s Day from now on — he’s got enough to go around.)
Here, unlike most of the cuts on the album, Bob is actually happy (“I could stay with you forever and never realize the time.“) — Life is good to him, he’s got a good woman by his side. But, though he’s ignoring it, the insurmountable problem — “the crystal…in the steel at the point of fracture,” to borrow a phrase from All the King’s Men — is already manifest, a tiny speck on the horizon soon to loom over everything. Despite his euphoria, Dylan can already recognize that this relationship is finite: Eventually, “Yer gonna have to leave me now, I know.” So, Dylan listens to the crickets and the river instead, and does his best to relish what happy moments still lie ahead, before the axe inevitably falls.
(Everybody and their brother owns Blood on the Tracks — if you don’t, buy it! For you and your brother! — so I’ve also thrown in a cover version by Mary Lou Lord. It’s a bit alt-chickish, sure, but I prefer it to other versions I can name, such as Elvis Costello’s too-jaunty-by-far take on Kojak Variety.)
You’re Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go — Bob Dylan (2.8MB, 2:55)
(song removed)
From Blood on the Tracks.
You’re Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go — Mary Lou Lord (5.3MB, 3:46)
(song removed)
From Hard Rain: A Tribute to Bob Dylan, Vol. 1.
[Update:]
And if you want a doctor, I’ll examine every inch of you.
If you want a driver, climb inside
Or if you want to take me for a ride,
You know you can…
I’m your man.“
Canada’s answer to Dylan, the inimitable Leonard Cohen has also been mining the joys and perils of romantic entanglements for four decades now. To be honest, I’m hit-or-miss with his early stuff, but I just can’t get enough of his “Satan’s lounge act” later period. (As I’ve said before, and as with Dylan, Tom Waits, etc., I’m basically a sucker for the “broken, gravelly voices with tales to tell” genre.)
Like “Everybody Knows” and “First We Take Manhattan,” “I’m Your Man” is one of the better-known songs from Cohen’s later incarnation (and the name of a recent tribute documentary to him, which I haven’t seen.) “I’m Your Man” combines a lot of Cohen’s strengths — that debauched, plaintive, and world-weary croak, a knack for memorable imagery and earthy allusions (even at his most bathetic, Cohen never lets you forget there’s a primal beast that “won’t go to sleep” raging inside him, one with carnal appetites inseparable from his professions of love — see also “In My Secret Life,” “Waiting for the Miracle,” or countless others), and a second-act twist that complicates what initially seemed to be a straightforward pop ditty.
Here, what appeared to be a confident ode to that special gal in his life becomes instead a hail-mary plea for forgiveness. (“I’ve been running through these promises to you, that I made and I could not keep“), one that he already knows is not going to shake out as he desires (“A man never got a woman back, not by begging on his knees…“) The joke is, Cohen’s not her man anymore. No matter how many times he says otherwise or tries to contort himself to regain his muse’s affections, Cohen is stuck being himself, the guy who blew it somewhere along the line. Sorry, Leonard. At least you got Manhattan.
(song removed)
From I’m Your Man.
[Update:]
‘There’s too much caffeine
In your bloodstream
And a lack of real spice
In your life’
I said :
‘Leave me alone
Because I’m alright, dad
Surprised to still
Be on my own.’
Oh, but don’t mention love
I’d hate the strain of the pain again…
Since I already lyric-checked the Smiths earlier in this post, why not go straight to the source? Maybe they just captured a certain zeitgest of feeling alone, different, and melancholy in the Reagan-Thatcher era. Still, the Smiths have a lot to answer for their part in helping to fashion a generation of angst-ridden, self-absorbed romantics (in which I include myself.) Either way, nobody does “way over yonder in the minor key” quite like Morrissey, Marr, & co., who built an entire career on the twisted, solipsistic pleasure one comes to take in excessive moping.
What the Smiths perfectly capture in song after song is the narcissism of the whole enterprise. With all the horrible things happening in the world every day to people who don’t deserve them, it takes no small amount of self-absorption and lack of perspective to luxuriate in a slough of despond for weeks on end. And yet, we all do it all the time, dwelling on our own petty problems while the world seems to crash and burn — it’s virtually inescapable.
In “A Rush and a Push and the Land is Ours,” probably my favorite Smiths song (well, along with “This Night Has Opened My Eyes”), the band brings this irony front and center. In the lyrics’ biting condescension even in the midst of gloom (“people who are uglier than you and I, they take what they need and just leave“), in the vague disreputability of the land-grab metaphor at the heart of the song (“A rush, a push, and the land that we stand on is ours! It has been before, so why can’t it be now?“), and in Morrissey’s trademark wailing, swooning, and growling, “A Rush, A Push, and the Land Is Ours” captures both the varied emotions and uglier facets of heartache that will attend all too many of us this holiday Wednesday. (Also, courtesy of Youtube, here’s what appears to be the vintage video.)
(song removed)
From Strangeways, Here We Come.
However you stand on this Valentine’s Day, have a safe and a happy one out there, as always. (And, as I noted last year, if you want more music, Fluxblog does the mp3blog thing day in and day out, and is considerably better at it than I am. And Max of Lots of Co. offers choice dance/techno/pop mixes around the start of every month.)
A World of Addicts.
Love is a stranger in an open car…or is it just a much-needed dopamine fix? Somebody writes this story every Valentine’s Day. Still, I guess it’s something to keep in mind. (And sorry, Berk, you may be my Valentine again this year, but the same type of deconstruction applies to you. No hard feelings, bud.)
Wish It Were Sunday.
How does it feel when your heart grows cold? Statisticians have deemed today “Blue Monday,” the most depressing day of the year. Um, if you say so. Clearly, these geniuses have never heard of Valentine’s Day.
Love Songs ’06.
Happy Valentine’s Day. In keeping with a GitM tradition started last year, and since y’all out there, dear readers, are once again my Valentines for the day whether you like it or not (I long ago stopped delving into personal detail around these parts — Suffice to say that, my fellow Americans, the State of the Love Life is, um, not good. In fact, like those pesky WMD, its existence has been almost entirely theoretical for some time…Ah, well.) — I’ve thrown up more tunes for your holiday perusal. At any rate, as per the usual mp3blog rules: the files will be only up for a day or two, right-click to save them, and please don’t link to them directly. Otherwise, enjoy!
Stare at the TV screen
I don’t know what to do
I need a rendezvous
For sundry reasons involving the Internet Age, Kraftwerk’s “Computer Love” has taken on all kinds of ulterior meanings since it first debuted on 1981’s Computer World, when 300 baud modems (“I call this number for a data date“) and TRS-80s operating on tape decks were the order of the day. When these German electronica pioneers weren’t creating the music of the future, it seems, they were presciently anticipating our current era of Instant Messaging, online dating sites, and the like. Still, its newer resonances notwithstanding, I’ve always found something giddily innocent about this track. While the lyrics suggest a much more downbeat affair, the chirps and whistles in this song never fail to bring a big goofy grin to my face — particularly in this clubbier 1991 remix version, when those syncopated synths take off like a bird in flight. There are some songs that just make ya happy, no matter what — for me, this is one of those.
Computerlove — Kraftwerk (6.2MB, 6:37)
(song removed)
From The Mix.
[Update:]
And it feels like home
And there’s someone
Calling on the telephone
Let’s stay home
It’s cold outside
And I have so much
To confide to you
As I’ve wrote in this review of Ultra years ago, Depeche Mode is a band that’s been misunderstood and misunderestimated by a lot of people here in America. Which is not to say they’re some hidden secret — obviously, they’re one of the biggest bands in the world, and have had a huge US following for decades now.
Still, even today, in the reviews of DM’s recent Playing the Angel, rock critics trod out the doom-and-gloom “Depressed Mode” copy that’s been circulating since at least 1986’s Black Celebration. But they miss the point. Very few DM songs — Ok, “Satellite,” from A Broken Frame is one — are out-and-out depressing in the way, say, most Nine Inch Nails songs are. Rather, almost all of the songs on Black Celebration, one of my Desert Island discs, work in the same groove, including this one, “Here is the House.” As one review of “Enjoy the Silence” summed it up, it’s “me and you against the world.”
Yes, Celebration argues, this earth can be a cruel, unrelenting place, filled with misfortune and disappointment. But, maybe, just maybe, you and I can rise above all that, and together light a candle that’ll warm us both through another unforgiving night. In sum, DM’s best romantic ballads aren’t depressing so much as poignant and ever-so-slightly hopeful. I’ll be the first to admit that the band has come close to over-mining this particular mode after 25 years, but still, when they do it right, it’s a thing of beauty. (Also, since I’m sure a lot of people out there already have this song in their collection, I’ve also posted Martin’s early demo version, which actually fits the song really well in a lo-fi Magnetic Fields kinda way.)
Here is the House — Depeche Mode (4.1MB, 4:19)
Bonus Track: Here is the House (Demo) — Martin Gore (4.3MB, 4:35)
(songs removed)
Original version on Black Celebration.
[Update:]
running through my veins
the blood of eden keeps rushing through me
when I’m sure there’s none that remains
I had a hard time figuring out which song I wanted to post from Peter Gabriel’s sublime rumination on romance, Us (1992), ’cause almost every song — particularly on the A-side — is a certifiable classic. (A younger friend of mine once musically conflated Gabriel’s oeuvre with that of his Genesis bandmate Phil Collins, which almost drove me to apoplexy. I mean, I don’t hate Phil Collins or anything, but, c’mon now — Gabriel is a lot more than just “Sledgehammer,” and even “Sledgehammer” isn’t “Susudio.”)
In the end, I opted for this cut of “Blood of Eden” from Wim Wender’s Until the End of the World (which for some odd reason was left off that otherwise great soundtrack.) The Us version is disarmingly beautiful, but the lack of Sinead O’Connor’s backing vocals here lend the track a different resonance.
On the album, you can actually hear “the union of the woman and the man” in O’Connor and Gabriel’s lush harmony, but here, with Gabriel plaintive and alone, it’s just a fading memory, the echo of happier times. And yet, at certain moments (such as in the bridge), the memories come flooding back. “The blood of eden keeps rushing through me, when I’m sure there’s none that remains.” With love in the rear-view mirror, disappearing over the horizon, Pete still has the echoes of the past to keep him keepin’ on.
Blood of Eden (Wim Wenders Version) — Peter Gabriel (6.2MB, 6:40)
(song removed)
From Blood of Eden (Single).
[Update: The Wim Wenders version is hard to find on the tubes, but below is the original version with Sinead O’Connor.]
It’s well understood,
Most of the time
I wouldn’t change it if I could,
I can’t make it all match up, I can hold my own,
I can deal with the situation right down to the bone,
I can survive, I can endure
And I don’t even think about her
Most of the time.
Speaking of which, nobody does keep-on-keepin’-on like its coiner, the inimitable Bob Dylan. From “Don’t Think Twice” to “Like a Rolling Stone” and Blood on the Tracks to Time out of Mind, one of Bob’s career trademarks has been the post-mortem relationship song. Some are angry and vindictive, some are haunted, some are jaunty and could care less, some are resigned and reflective, some are (love)sick with remorse and regret. There are so many great songs that could have gone here, but I ended up choosing “Most of the Time,” from the somewhat underappreciated Oh Mercy (1989), the forerunner to Dylan’s recent revival. In this song, Bob’s basically got his act together and has moved on from an old love…most of the time. In direct contrast to Gabriel in “Eden,” the past here is treacherous. (“Most of the time, I can’t even be sure, if she was ever with me or if I was ever with her.“) Dylan’s learned to live with his scars, but at any moment — a passing haircut, a fleeting remembrance, a scent of perfume in the air — and he is undone once again, as if it were yesterday. After all, even for a guy like Bob Dylan, who once seemed to carry the weight of the world as if it were nothing, you don’t get very far in life without some ghosts in the machine.
Most of the Time — Bob Dylan (4.5MB, 5:03)
(song removed)
From Oh Mercy.
[Update:]
Ok, hopefully five tunes won’t kill my bandwidth…Have a safe and happy Valentine’s Day out there, y’all. (And, as a side note, if you’re looking for more quality music, be sure to check out the splendiferous Fluxblog almost-daily, and don’t miss out on the Max Music Mixes every month at Lots of Co.)
Love Songs.
I’m off early this morning to catch up with college friends for one of our semi-annual reunions, so I expect it’ll be quiet around here until next week. But, since it’s a holiday weekend of sorts, and since I’ve been perusing a number of MP3 blogs lately, I figured I wouldn’t leave on a jet plane before regaling you, my dear readers, with the Valentine’s gift of music. (The usual mp3blog rules apply: the files will be up this weekend and this weekend only, and please do not link to them.) So, without further ado:
You have to trust it,
Maybe not from the sources
you have poured yours
maybe not from the directions
you are staring at,
Twist your head around
it’s all around you
As y’all know, iconography from the stunning video to Bjork’s “All is Full of Love” has graced this site for years now, so it seemed a logical choice for GitM‘s Valentine. It’d be hard for me to introduce the song any better than Bjork did herself: “That song’s from a moment when I’d had a pretty rough winter and then it was a spring morning and I walked outside and the birds were singing: Spring is here! I wrote the song and recorded in half a day. It just clicked – you know: you’re being too stubborn, don’t be so silly, there is love everywhere. The feeling, the emotion of the song was like completely melting and loving everything and feeling like everything loved you, after a long time of not having that. The song, in essence, is actually about believing in love.“
Strangely enough, I experienced a very similar revelatory moment, traipsing around outside after a blizzard several years ago, while listening to this “Plaid” version of the song. It’s missing the languorous beat that’s so memorable in the single version, but I adore the fugue-like intro and textured, contrapuntal rhythms of this mix — They lend it a timeless, ethereal beauty that perfectly matches the celestial coo and growl of its Icelandic muse. I don’t want to hate on Love, Actually for too many posts in a row, but to my mind this song brilliantly encapsulates what that movie tried and failed to get at — Even in our loneliest moments, love surrounds us and binds us.
All is Full of Love (Plaid Mix) — Bjork (5.88MB, 4:17)
(song removed)
Original version on Homogenic.
[Update:]
***
I want you
I’m not ashamed to say I cried for you
I want you
I want to know the things you did that we do too
I want you
I want to hear he pleases you more than I do
I want you
I might as well be useless for all it means to you…
Bjork too sappy? Well, if, on the other hand, you prefer to spend Valentine’s Day prodding scars and excavating the thin line between love and hate, then here’s a streetlight serenade for you — a blistering-hot live version of Elvis Costello’s most savage, searing slow burn. Much of the resonance of the original “I Want You” lies in how what starts off as a run-of-the-mill torch song slowly degenerates into something much more complicated and sinister. This spooky, haunted-house version from the 2002 tour skips the set-up, but it’s nevertheless a poisonous mirrorball of rage and regret, bitterness and betrayal, loss and (self-)loathing…all those quintessential consequences of a love implosion that they just don’t seem to make Hallmark cards for (and it’s all topped off with a brief twinge of Yankee Power.) Our man Costello may be enthralled with Diana Krall these days, but as this song makes emphatically clear, there are still some things you just don’t wanna know about his dark life.
I Want You (Live in Nashville 2002) — Elvis Costello (15.1MB, 8:15)
(song removed)
Original version on Blood and Chocolate.
[Update]:
Either path you choose, have a safe and happy weekend, and I’ll catch y’all next week.