Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts

29 December 2009

Christmas songs

Christmas is my favourite time of year. For all the talk of higher rates of suicide and such, there is just a magical feel to Christmas for me no matter how commercialised it may get.

I'm sad it's now over - and also that I didn't get around to making this post before it took place.

One of the things that many people loathe more than anything else is the Christmas music.

In principle, I should loathe it too.

My ambition is to be a music journalist and I style myself as a connoisseur. And Christmas music is some of the worst of the worst, right?

Wrong.

There's a whole bunch of artists who I will only listen to at Christmas, and no matter how bad the songs may be, I love Christmas so much that I will listen to virtually any Christmas song when this time of year rolls around.

So in no particular order, here are some of what I think are some truly classic Christmas songs.


This is probably my favourite Christmas song. I never listen to Jethro Tull except for this song at Christmas. I adore it. It doesn't actually mention Christmas itself, to be fair, but it does mention the Winter Solstice and that's good enough for me. I actually get a lump in my throat every time I hear that opening flute.


Shakin' Stevens, another terrible, awful musician but with a Christmas song that I really can't argue with. Has a faintly bizarre video but the sentiment of the song is about as Christmassy as you can get.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gUxxXIwGvK0
This one won't embed by request, but it's Proper Chrimbo by Avid Merrion. This song isn't just Christmassy by itself, but is also a very funny video for any number of reasons. My personal favourite is Bob Geldof shamelessly abusing Merrion and the both of them dropping their wine glasses on the floor.


Reuben are a band I miss a great deal, who made three great albums before splitting. Their third was a bit miserable and the videos a bit serious for my liking (mostly) so I was happy with this return to their style of madcap humour. The lyrics in this song sum up a Christmas, especially in Britain, so brilliantly. The best lyric is probably either 'look out for Mistletoe or I will kiss your face' or 'sorry about all of that "nailed to a cross" business.'


A lesser known one, this, I've never heard it played on TV or the radio. It starts off with the typical blink-182 toilet humour but then the closing refrain is fairly euphoric and emotional.


This version of 'Little Drummer Boy' is taken from an utterly bizarre Christmas special starring David Bowie and Bing Crosby which was aired after the latter's death. The pairing makes no sense, the song is odd and the whole thing is just baffling. Good tune, though.

25 November 2009

The pitfalls of artist compilations

Artist compilations are one of the notorious pitfalls of the music business.

There's a never-ending list of questions that come up before the album is listened to or even released. What's the motivation, commercial or artistic?

Should an artist release a greatest hits or best of when they're still together?

And most of all - what should you include, and what shouldn't you?

To try and figure this out, let's take a look at some of the good and bad best ofs, and some of the ones in between.

Let's start off with a band I've touched upon in a previous blog - Nirvana, fronted by everyone's favourite shotgun enthusiast.

Nirvana are a band who'd suit a compilation. So many of their essential songs are b-sides, offcuts or one-off singles on Sub Pop, but 2002's Nirvana compilation was pretty pathetic.

At less than an hour long, the compilation doesn't even make the best use of its space - but the little space it does use is filled with inessential songs.

It also has unreleased song 'You Know You're Right,' which makes it essential for hardcore fans (sigh). It's a very good song but not really worth the asking price alone.

A much better Nirvana compilation could be stitched together by anyone with a passing knowledge of their catalogue - namely me. And even I wouldn't be stupid enought to omit 'Aneurysm' but still put 'Rape Me' on it.

Who else has managed to epically fail at the compilation?

What's that, another band I've already mentioned?

Yes, the Panic Fleet Teachers.

I really must stop making jokes that only I will find remotely funny.

Yes, Manic Street Preachers, after running out of creative juices in 2001 decided to put out a compilation in 2002 called Forever Delayed. (The creative juices must have reeeeally run dry considering the debacle of an album that followed).

Now on song-strength alone, Forever Delayed is predominantly brilliant. What's more, it mops up a couple of single-only releases, 'Motown Junk' and 'The Masses Against The Classes' which were well worth including on an album somewhere.

But it's also an example of what can go terribly wrong with such releases.

It has two new songs tacked onto it. I've noticed a pattern when it comes to having two new songs on your compilation; if you have one song, it might be alright.

If you have two, then one will be great, the other will suck. REM's 2003 compilation In Time had that problem ('Bad Day' was great, 'Animal' was not) and so does this one.

'There By The Grace Of God' is an elegaic, wistful number with a beautiful guitar figure. 'Door To The River' is so forgettable that I might just forget that I'm writing this sen-...

The rest of the album is apparently the bizarre result of committee thinking. Four cuts are taken from 1996's magnificent masterpice Everything Must Go. But only one song is taken from the brilliant, if disturbing, Holy Bible.

How does that work?

There is no fathomable reason for the tracklisting. It doesn't play like a live gig. It's not chronological, and it doesn't have only the big hits (just look at where they charted in the liner notes). And it doesn't seem to consist of band favourites or fan favourites, otherwise as already stated there'd be more Holy Bible.

We end up with room for 'Tsunami,' but no room for 'Ifwhiteamericatoldthetruthforonedayitsworldwouldfallapart?'

Join us next week (or whenever else I bother to write another blog) to find out some of the better artist compilations that've been released.

20 November 2009

When did rap lose its bass?

I am possibly the whitest man you'll ever meet.

Well, except one.

And being a white, suburban-bred male that means I'm obviously into rap music.

As ridiculous and stereotypical as that is, I have a genuine appreciation for the poetry of rap and genius of its sampling.

So let me ask you; when did rap lose its bass frequencies?

The hip-hop I love is predominantly late eighties, early nineties kind of stuff.


I'm talking NWA.

I'm talking The Notorious B.I.G.

And most of all, I am talking about André Young, known to me as, your friend and mine, Dr. Dre.

Actually I'm much more of a fan of Biggie. But as far as bass frequencies go, Dr. Dre is what you're after.

Hip-hop was all about the bassline and the beat. Something that'll pound your chest in the clubs and make you want to dance.

Possibly the greatest rap beat I've ever heard is from Dre's first solo album, The Chronic, which has a drumbeat so heavy that it's actually sampled from Led Zeppelin.

If you have the ability, crank the bass up on your speakers a bit and feel how hard that beat hits.

Now let's take a look at some modern hip-hop, shall we? Even Dizzee Rascal has managed a bit of big beat in his time on 'Fix Up, Look Sharp,' but how about the more acclaimed modern hip-hop acts.

Let's say, oh I don't know, Chipmunk.



That is TERRIBLE. And in fact, that's not the worst that's out there. Most snare drums in modern hip-hop sound more like someone cracking their knuckles than they do a beat.

I place most of the blame for this squarely at the door of Timbaland, who has made everything he's involved with sound exactly the same.

Come on people. Bring back the bass frequency in hip-hop.

15 November 2009

1001 albums, concluded

The last album I want to talk about from the 1001 albums series is Manic Street Preachers' Everything Must Go.

With lyricist and anti-guitarist Richey Edwards disappeared and presumed dead in 1995, it all seemed finished for the Manics.

Instead, they regrouped as a trio, wrote the greatest song in history (as far as I'm concerned) and created the rock masterpiece that is Everything Must Go.

For the most part, there's nothing fancy about Everything Must Go. In an interview with Q magazine this year, vocalist/guitarist James Dean Bradfield said that 'there are times when I just want to write a good f**king tune,' and he's done just that twelve times here.

The majority of the album is hard-rocking songs played with pride, and sung with the most ridiculous amount of passion you'll ever hear.

But there are subtle undertones and elements you wouldn't expect. The aforementioned 'A Design For Life,' along with other cuts like the magnificent title track, are accompanied by sweeping strings.

The song which best illustrates how unique the Manics are, however, is opener 'Elvis Impersonator: Blackpool Pier.'

Apart from anything else, opening an album that's predominantly fast-paced with the sound of the ocean and a strummed acoustic guitar is an interesting move. But it's the lyrics which are extraordinary, detailing the suicidal contemplations of the titular Elvis Impersonator.

No other band could come up with that kind of image, few other bands would begin an album with a punt out of left field like that.

Everything Must Go may not reinvent the wheel much, but it's simply a classic album without a single song that needs cutting.

14 November 2009

1001 albums, continued

In my last blog, I discussed Iggy Pop's The Idiot.

This time round, I want to discuss Nirvana's In Utero.

I could write a whole other blog entry about Nirvana in general, but In Utero is a fascinating album in and of itself.

Nevermind, as heavy as it was on songs like 'Stay Away' or 'Breed,' had a production that the band weren't happy with, and they enlisted famous Pixies producer Steve Albini.

Trapped by fatherhood and mired in a heroin-enabling relationship with Courtney Love - both of which I'm sure made him very happy at times as well - Kurt Cobain struggled to reconcile his punk ethics with the millions of records Nevermind sold (referenced in the excellent 'Radio Friendly Unit Shifter').

The result is an extraordinary record, a howl into the abyss that was Cobain's life at that point.

On my first few listens, I didn't really see a great deal of difference between the two albums. But when I listened to them back to back, I realised that if the most commercial song and lead single on your album is 'Heart Shaped Box' maybe this isn't as much of a pop record.

The lacerating, metallic riffs on this album are set to wilfully sardonic lyrics from Cobain, claiming on 'Scentless Apprentice' that 'you can't fire me 'cause I quit.'

Indeed, the very opening line of the album is 'teenage angst has paid off well, now I'm bored and old.'

But oddly, alongside these blasts of glorious noise are understated, possibly even bluesy tunes like 'Dumb,' 'Pennyroyal Tea' or the highlight of their MTV Unplugged setlist, 'All Apologies'.

All in all, Nevermind may be the poppier album, but it's by no means the better one. In Utero is a bruising, jagged but at times serene ride - and by far the better album.

6 October 2009

No-one gets The Beatles Remasters

On the 9th of September 2009 - 09.09.09 if you're counting - every single Beatles studio album, plus the Past Masters singles collection, was re-released in a remastered form.

Yesterday I purchased the remastered Revolver and a while back I reviewed a sample of the remasters for www.rockmidgets.com.

Now maybe I'm biased just because of the angle my review took. But am the only one who thinks that literally every single other review has totally missed the point?

Every review I read, be it in the Times or on Pitchfork (don't get me started on how much I despise them) has reviewed the albums one by one based on their merits as records. How completely pointless.

We all know The Beatles were probably the greatest band ever. They were pioneering, they were brilliant, they've sold literally a billion records - what more can you say about them?

These releases are about the mastering. The first four or five albums have only previously been available in mono anyway, that's why they were re-released. We don't need telling again that Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band is one of the greatest albums ever made. Tell us how they sound.

They sound great, by the way.

So, I'm going to shamelessly self-promote and say read my review, because mine is the only review that addresses these recordings the way they should be addressed.