I always feel bad calling Billy Joel one of my "guilty pleasures"...he's one of the most commercially and critically successful songwriters and musicians of the past fifty years and has written countless hit songs. Perhaps I shouldn't call him a "guilty pleasure" and instead say that he's one of my favorite musicians who most people who know me would be surprised I'm such a big fan of given when compared to everything else I listen to. But really, it should make perfect sense: he's a fantastic piano player, songwriter, singer, and can write hooks with the best of them (and as anyway who knows me know, I am and always have been a sucker for a well crafted song with an infectious hook). Over the course of his active career, Billy Joel released album after album full of great songs and became one of the most successful singer-songwriters of the 1970s and 1980s before retiring from popular music in the mid 1990s.
William Martin Joel was born in 1949 in Oyster Bay, Long Island to a German immigrant concert pianist and an English immigrant mother. He had a troubled childhood, with his parents divorcing in the mid 1950s and his father moving to Vienna, Austria. Reluctantly forced into classical piano lessons at a young age, Joel was captivated, as so many millions of others were, by the Beatles when he saw them on the Ed Sullivan show in 1964 and decided to drop out of high school in order to pursue a career in music full time. After playing on several demos and sessions with a few small-time groups, he joined a local band called The Hassles who released two albums. Following that, in 1970 he formed a short-lived heavy metal duo called Atilla with former Hassles drummer Jon Small. The duo released one unsuccessful album and split up when Joel's affair with Small's wife Elizabeth was revealed. She broke it off with both of them and, distraught, Joel attempted suicide by drinking furniture polish (in his own words, "it looked tastier than bleach"). Surviving the attempt to take his own life, Elizabeth reconciled with Joel and they eventually married.
Signing a terribly lopsided contract with a label called Family Productions, he released his debut album Cold Spring Harbor in 1971. The album sold poorly, much of it due to the mastering being too fast and the songs and vocals being too high-pitched, something which wasn't corrected until many years later. Realizing he'd been ripped off, Joel managed to sign with Columbia Records, who bought out his contract with Family. His second album, Piano Man, was his commercial breakthrough, led by the title track as well as underground radio stations in the northeast (especially in Philadelphia) playing the album's closing track, "Captain Jack." Relocating to Los Angeles, his follow-up album, Streetlife Serenade, is an underrated and overlooked one in his discography. Without any immediate hit singles apart from "The Entertainer," it's a bit darker and more melancholy, with tracks such as the title song, "Los Angelenos," "The Great Suburban Showdown," "Roberta," and the instrumental piano workout "Root Beer Rag" as definite highlights. Homesick for New York City, Joel moved back for good and his next album, Turnstiles, reflected his happiness at being home. Songs like "Say Goodbye to Hollywood," "New York State of Mind," and "Miami 2017 (I've Seen the Lights Go Out on Broadway)" reflect this, and are among the highlights of the album, as well as the classic "Prelude/Angry Young Man." By this point, Joel had a steady band behind him that would last for the next fifteen years and solidify his sound both in the studio and live on stage.
1977 saw the release of The Stranger, Joel's commercial and critical breakthrough album and the work that is still considered his magnum opus. The Stranger was packed with classic songs...almost the entire album has been in regular rotation on the radio since its release, with such songs as the title track, "Movin' Out," "Scenes From an Italian Restaurant," "Only the Good Die Young," "Just the Way You Are," "She's Always a Woman," and "Vienna" as classics. This album would also mark the beginning of a fruitful collaboration with producer Phil Ramone, who would produce all of Joel's albums up to and including 1986's The Bridge. The following albums 52nd Street ("My Life," "Big Shot," "Zanzibar"), Glass Houses ("You May Be Right," "Sometimes a Fantasy"), The Nylon Curtain ("Allentown," "Pressure," "Goodnight Saigon," "Laura") and his homage to 1950s and 1960s pop, An Innocent Man ("Uptown Girl," "The Longest Time," "Tell Her About It") continued a ridiculously strong run of albums and songs. It wasn't just the singles that were great...numerous album cuts were as good, or in some cases better than, the radio hits. There was a bit of a drop-off from here: 1986's The Bridge was very good but not great, but still had some excellent songs ("A Matter of Trust," "This is the Time") as did Joel's final two albums. 1989's Storm Front contained the hits "We Didn't Start the Fire" and "I Go to Extremes" while his final album, 1993's River of Dreams, had the title track and "Lullaby (Goodnight, My Angel)" as highlights. At this point, Joel decided to retire from writing and recording popular music, a surprising decision for someone of his talents. Since then, he's focused on writing classical piano pieces and has continued touring, both with his own band and in tandem with Elton John, playing his hits and entertaining millions of fans around the world. He's definitely on my bucket list of musicians I want to see, and seeing as how he's played Fenway Park in Boston the last two summers, I'm hoping that I have a really good chance of making it happen.
Billy Joel today, in 2015
As for my own fandom, I grew up listening to my parents' copies of The Stranger and 52nd Street on vinyl. My dad isn't a fan, but my mum is, so between those records and hearing all of his songs on the radio when I'd be listening with her, I became a fan at a very young age. Additionally, my best friend from elementary through high school was a huge fan. We sang many of Billy Joel's songs in the high school chorus and acapella groups I was in (including "The Longest Time," on which I performed the solo). From the beginning, I've been captivated by his fantastic songwriting...he writes melodies with the best of them and is also quite talented at writing songs that tell stories. His phenomenal piano playing has always been a highlight for me, as well as his singing voice. In fact, he's one of my favorite musicians to listen to and sing along with. The range of music he's produced goes from story songs like "Allentown," "Scenes From an Italian Restaurant," "Miami 2017 (I've seen the Lights Go Out on Broadway)," and "Captain Jack" to ballads like "Honesty," "She's Got a Way," and "And So it Goes." There are belting rockers like "You May Be Right," "Big Shot," "Movin' Out," and "Los Angelenos," pure pop singles like "Uptown Girl" and "My Life," and numerous great album cuts like "Laura" (the best Lennon/McCartney song of the 1980s that they never wrote), "Vienna," "Roberta," "Zanzibar," and countless others. For many years during my youth, I used to hide the fact that I was such a big fan because he wasn't considered too "cool" by my peers. He also doesn't fit the mold of most of the musicians I listen to and I'd find many of my friends and family members to be quite surprised when I mentioned how much I liked him. However, as I've gotten older, I don't feel the need to be so coy about my fandom. So many of Billy Joel's songs have meant a lot to me throughout the various stages of my life and continue to do so to this day. Whether it's been during tough times or happy times, reflective, depressing times or exciting times, I've always found that his songs have a way of speaking to me as a listener and conveying their message and emotion both through their music and their lyrics. He may not fit in easily alongside the majority of what I listen to, but I'm proud and glad to be a fan of Billy Joel's music...it's meant, and continues to mean, so much to me and brought me such enjoyment that I can't ever imagine not having it in my life.
The latest independent band I'd like to present to you is Screaming Eagles, a hard rock band from Northern Ireland. I first became aware of them a couple of months ago and was really struck by their no-frills, straight ahead driving hard rock sound. It's very 1970s/80s sounding but with a modern feel, and a lot of fun. Sometimes you just want to rock out and have a good time listening to music. That's exactly what Screaming Eagles deliver. I was able to listen to their EP, entitled Save Me, and their brand new album Stand Up and Be Counted, which was released in July. My track by track review is below, but before that, here's some more information about the band from a recent press release:
"Northern Ireland rock quartet Screaming Eagles, who achieved international recognition after their single ‘Rock N’ Roll Soul’ was featured on the hit US TV Show - Justified, will release their 10-track second album STAND UP AND BE COUNTED on 13th July, 2015, preceded by a multi-track EP and first single SAVE ME in June. The band, whose debut album ‘From the Flames’ was described by Classic Rock Magazine as “absolutely smokin’, hotter than hell, the work of a group burning up with fiery ambition,’ are signed to Worldwide-Distributing label ‘Off Your Rocka Records’, home of the Quireboys and Bonafide.
“We had an incredible start to 2015 after signing a licensing agreement with Sony Music Pictures in the US,” said Chris Fry, Screaming Eagles’ lead vocalist, “who included our first single ‘Rock N’ Roll Soul’ on the first episode of the final season of Justified, to an audience of more than 4 million. We cannot wait to continue that success with the release of Stand Up and Be Counted and play it live to the masses. I’m extremely excited as when we got the final mixes through it sounded immense. I think it shows a progression, musically, with a mixture of what we do best - the Rock N’Roll anthemic sing along chorus’ and driving riffs, mixed with some darker rib-shaking belters." Of the first single "Save Me", Chris had this to say "it's a more grittier and intense sound than we're known for, from the sirens in the intro to the eerie guitar distortion, this song will live long in your memory and have you chanting the chorus in your sleep!"
The first single from the album - a 7 track EP/single titled ‘Save Me’ will feature bonus material including a cover of Australian rock classic “Good Times” featuring guest vocals from Pontus Snibb of Bonafide as well as live material recorded at Hard Rock Hell 2013. The ‘Save Me’ video will debut on YouTube on 24 June via this link: https://youtu.be/VmtfMeMt8Os. Off Yer Rocka CEO Jonni Davis commented "we’ve watched our Irish Eagles with extreme interest since they won one of our national competitions and have seen their career accelerate in the UK, US, Germany and Australia 100 fold after the Justified release. This is exactly what we challenged them with for the next step and to say they have over delivered is an understatement." After exclusively debuting new album tracks at Hard Rock Hell Ibiza in May of this year, the band will soon go on tour including a date on the Main Stage at November’s Hard Rock Hell UK alongside Saxon and Black Label Society. Over the past 2 years Screaming Eagles have shared bills with the likes of Airbourne, UFO, Black Star Riders, Blue Oyster Cult, and The Answer, at various festivals such as Giants Of Rock, Minehead, The Great British Rock N Blues Festival, Skegness, Southern France Aquitane Showbike Montalivet and Hard Rock Hell, Wales and their biker edition in Ibiza."
Screaming Eagles are:
Chris Fry - vocals Adrian McAleenan - guitar Ryan Lilly - bass guitar Kyle Cruikshank - drums
Save Me EP
1. Good Times
The song sounds very much like mid-1970s AC/DC with crunchy guitars, steady drumming, and growling vocals. The singer has some range and at spots sounds like Bon Scott or Brian Johnson from ACDC. The lyrics name check lots of classic rock tunes (Bony Maronie, Long Tall Sally, Short Fat Fannie, etc) and this is a fun opening track.
2. Hungry For More
From here on to the end of the EP, these are live recordings from Hard Rock Hell in Wales. This tune has a really heavy riff like the best 1980s metal and sounds a bit like GNR (Guns n Roses) in terms of its sound, riff, and guitar solo. Slash would be proud!
3. Down the River
The riff is out of the Angus Young songbook and crunchy! This tune is very catchy.
4. Immigrant Song
A Led Zeppelin cover. Fry's vocals are a bit shaky when he tries to do the classic Robert Plant wails, but those would be extremely tough for anyone to do exactly as the man himself did. Who can sing like Plant circa 1970 anyway? Still, he does an admirable job, while musically it's a bit more metal-sounding than Zeppelin's version. That being said, they do an very good job on a tough cover of one of the defining Led Zeppelin tunes.
5. Blood
A brighter sounding song with a cool riff. There's a false ending at the four-minute mark before they come storming back for another couple of minutes, complete with a ripping guitar solo in middle. The sound reminds me a little bit of what a Black Crowes song crossed w/ACDC might sound like. Speaking of the rockers from Oz, the last couple of minutes morph into a cover of their song "(It's a Long Way to the Top if You Want to Rock and Roll)." Fun!
6. Rock and Roll Soul
This is the song that put the band on the map within the past year when it was used on US TV in the show Justified. It's got a pummeling riff and beat, a very Jimmy Page-ish guitar solo, and overall just awesome playing. There are a couple of fluffed guitar notes tucked in there but hey, this is live rock n roll and we don't care...it still sounds great! A great song and, for me, the highlight of the EP.
Stand Up and Be Counted:
1. Ready For the Fall
The album opens up with some thunderous drums and a massive guitar riff reminiscent of early 1980s Iron Maiden/Judas Priest. The nice thing about this song, and indeed all of the Screaming Eagles' songs, is that it is still very melodic and memorable. A nice, anthemic chorus rounds out this effective way to kick things off.
2. Save Me
One of the best songs on the album, starting off with some eerie sirens and guitar feedback before another very aggressive, chunky riff propels things along. There's not anything I can say that you can't hear for yourself in the video above...awesome song, I really dig it!
3. Stand Up and Be Counted
The title track. It's got a cool ascending/descending riff and another anthemic vocal and chorus...I can imagine a room full of people bouncing up and down with their fists in the air singing along. This song sounds a like what ACDC would sound like if they wrote far better melodies.
4. Bow Down to the Blues
It starts off sort of like a late 1960s/early 1970s Led Zeppelin song before it gets into a chugging bluesy groove. Not one of the more memorable songs on the album but still solid and enjoyable.
5. Chase You Down
A heavy riff and drums kick it off before it gets into a shuffle-type blues groove. As above, a fun, short but sweet tune.
6. Get Out While I'm Ahead
Brooding riffs and arpeggios, some pulsating tom-tom beats build the song up at the beginning. Another crowd-pleasing chorus and a bit of a curveball as to my ears this song sounds a bit like Rush (musically) which is fine with me since I'm a huge Rush fan!
7. Breakin' All the Rules
A slinky, bluesy riff with some subtle slide guitar in the background gives this song a very nice Southern rock/Black Crowes vibe before it gets into a cool open-string/alternating riff. A very southern, fun song.
8. Streets of Gold
Powerful, insistent riffing starts it off and there's a really trippy and great chorus/breakdown section. The guitar solo is old-school and drenched in wah-wah, which is right in my wheelhouse. It again sounds a bit like Slash but is still wholly unique...some of the best playing on the whole album.
9. Screaming Eagles
The band's title song! It's got an insistent, pulsing riff and drums before they lock into the groove. Once again it has that 1970s/80s hard rock/metal type feel, with a chorus that shouts out that "screaming eagles gonna block out the sun!" A bit cheesy, perhaps, but great fun which comes through in the band's delivery. Another awesome guitar solo in the middle is augmented with some sampled dialogue and airplane/machine gun/war noises in the background, all the while the excellent solo keeps going.
10. 27 Club
The album closer. A really rocking tune with lyrics obliquely referencing the tragic members of the 27 club. One final ripping guitar solo in the middle, played over a menacing riff. Some really cool vocal "oh's" end the song are lain over the wailing guitar as the song and album come to an end.
All in all, Screaming Eagles are straight-out rock and roll. No ballads, no slow songs, just balls-out rock n roll. These are songs where you want to raise your fist in the air (hence the entirely appropriate album cover!) and sing along to the choruses, headbanging along with the riffing and rhythm section. Screaming Eagles have a sound that draws on several influences but never sounds derivative...in many cases, they improve upon the best of what their inspirations have to offer, and an added strength of theirs is the always underlying melodic instinct which ensures that most of these songs will stay in your head long after you're done listening to them. I know the band are gigging in the UK...I hope they're able to build on their US success of "Rock and Roll Soul" and are able to play some shows here, as I know it would be a really fun gig to see!
As always, SUPPORT INDEPENDENT MUSIC! Buy their albums, go see them live, and spread the word! You can buy Screaming Eagles' music on Amazon...if you like what you've heard here, check them out and support them by purchasing it...rock on!
Welcome to Part 2 of this little series of posts where I try to choose the one, and only one, song that encapsulates all there is about some of my favorite bands. I won't belabor the point by rehashing the "rules" for this little thought exercise...if you want to refresh your memory, you can read them at the beginning of Part 1. With that out of the way, let's jump right in to Part 2!
Blur: One of my favorite bands ever, and really the only band from my own generation (although others are close) that I place in the same rarefied air as all of the 1960s bands I have in the top tier of my rock music pantheon. If you want to talk about a band that constantly changed and evolved their sound from one album to the next, Blur will be near the top of that list. While this factor is one of the things that has made them so successful, both critically and commercially, it also makes my task here that much harder. How on earth do I choose just one song that covers all of the different aspects of their sound, which encompasses everything like classic British pop and rock, American lo-fi, English Music Hall, electronic, and world music? Like any great band, they have an instantly identifiable sound but no two albums sound alike and they've spent their entire career constantly pushing forward. It took me a really long time to come up with that one song that captures everything about them, but I think I made a good choice with...
Beetlebum. It's probably my favorite Blur song of all time anyway, and the more I thought about it, it seemed like it was the right choice for this little game we're playing here. With that muted guitar intro before launching into a memorable riff, it grabs your attention right away. The chorus is gorgeous, catchy, and very Beatle-esque...in fact, the entire song is. I've read it described elsewhere as the darkness and light of the White Album all in one song, and for me that's a perfect description. It's the ideal mix of Blur's melodic gift, their edginess and experimental tendencies, imaginative production, and fabulous musicianship. While Blur's entire career is chock full of superlative moments on both the single and album scale, in my mind "Beetlebum" has always been not only their best song, but their quintessential song.
Rush: Rush is one of those bands you either love or hate...there doesn't seem to be any middle ground. Their fans tend to be predominantly male, musicians themselves, geeky (ie into sci-fi, philosophy, science, technology), and in many cases highly intelligent. Indeed, as a massive Rush fan myself I fit all of those criteria, as do 99% of the the fellow Rush fanatics I've met over the course of my life...the amount of guys I've known in my career as a chemist who are also Rush fans is huge. Musically, all three of the guys in the band are virtuosos, and lyrically they are very smart, philosophical, and playfully humorous. Even with a career spanning 40+ years and millions of records sold, people either love these guys or despise and dismiss them. Putting all of that aside, the biggest challenge for me in choosing just one Rush song to represent their long career has to do with all of the different musical phases they've had. First was the hard rock power trio prog era of 1974-1976. Starting with 1976's breakthrough album 2112 through 1984 they were one of the finest rock bands on the planet, melding hard rock with progressive rock's virtuosity and ambitious concepts and compositions. From 1984-1988 they heavily incorporated synthesizers into their sound, while from 1989 to the present they've returned to a more stripped down, heavier sound. There's an awful lot of ground to cover, although in the end my final choice wasn't as surprising to me as I thought it would be...
Red Barchetta. It's the second song off of their biggest selling and most well-known album, 1981's Moving Pictures, a record chock full of hits like "Tom Sawyer," "YYZ," "Limelight," and "Vital Signs." "Red Barchetta" is a fantastic song, but probably only known to hardcore Rush fans, so why did I choose it as my essential Rush song? There are a variety of reasons, the first being that it comes from an album smack dab in the middle of the period in their career when they were transitioning from the long, elaborate song-suites to leaner, more streamlined songs. Moving Pictures was the last Rush album to contain a long, 10+ minute song ("The Camera Eye") and they still had one foot (barely) planted in their prog past as they looked toward the more stripped down, synth-laden 1980s. "Red Barchetta" straddles this divide as it's nearly 7 minutes long and progresses through several distinct sections, yet is such a complete, unified song that it never seems that long. It's got tasteful yet essential synthesizer parts woven within the musical tapestry, but is still mainly reliant on the virtuosic instrumental abilities of Geddy Lee, Alex Lifeson, and Neil Peart. The lyrics are based on a short science fiction story set in a future when the simple freedom of driving a car is illegal and the world lives in fear of a despotic communist government who controls its inhabitants every move. It's an adventure tale of a young man who, along with his uncle, keeps an old antique sports car (the titular vehicle) hidden in a barn and takes it out occasionally for joyrides. On this particular day, the young man is caught by the police force and uses his driving ability and the smaller size of the car (when compared to the "gleaming alloy air-cars...two lanes wide" used by the police) to outrace them and return to his uncle's farm, where they laugh about the incident by the fireside that night. It's catchy, a fun story, some killer playing (that guitar solo!) and captures everything great about Rush, including their humor, something they have always had in abundance but which the uninformed tend to overlook. If you're not a Rush fan, give the song a listen...you just might like it!
The Smiths: They were one of the most legendary indie rock bands of all time and almost single-handedly kept guitar-based music alive in the UK and Europe during the dark musical times that were the 1980s. Splintering right on the cusp of international stardom in the US (where they already had a huge and devoted cult following), the Smiths' reputation has only grown and grown since they acrimoniously disbanded in 1987. They never strayed too far from their very British lush and powerful sound that owed so much to the great 45rpm singles and albums of the 1960s and the punk records of the 1970s Morrissey and Johnny Marr loved so much, but there was definitely a progression on their albums toward a more mature, powerful, and exciting sound. The debut album, while solid, is a bit underwhelming, but from there through their next few albums, as well as all of those fabulous non-album singles and B-sides, there's a veritable cornucopia of stuff to choose from in deciding which single song is worthy of encompassing the essence of Smiths. My choice...
There Is a Light That Never Goes Out. If you're a Smiths fan, this is perhaps not a surprising choice, but even so, how can you go wrong with such a fantastic song as this one? It's buried as the penultimate track on what is widely considered to be their masterpiece album The Queen is Dead (for me, as much as I love that album, I actually prefer Strangeways Here We Come or even Meat is Murder) but it's worthy of far better. The fact that such a song could have been sequenced on the album that way speaks volumes as to the quality of the Smiths' output. The song has an instantly recognizable hook kicking things off that is repeated throughout the song and its beautiful, lilting melody and rhythm is propelled by excellent performances from Marr, Andy Rourke, and Mike Joyce. On top of this all is one of Morrissey's finest vocals and lyrics, chronicling the doomed romanticism of the lovesick narrator who is too crippled by shyness and insecurity to express his feelings: he'd rather he and the object of his affections die together in a car crash and be linked together for eternity in death than to risk rejection. The Smiths (well, okay, Morrissey) are often mocked as being perpetually dour and depressing by those too unfamiliar or lazy to actually listen to more than one or two of their songs, but this song melds Moz's tragic story (along with his humor, far too often dismissed throughout his career) with the gorgeous musical backdrop written by Marr and brought to life by the three instrumental Smiths. It's everything special and unique about the Smiths in one three-minute song.
R.E.M.: It's ironic that I decided to choose an R.E.M. song to immediately follow the Smiths, as the two bands ran eerily parallel careers on opposite sides of the Atlantic during the 1980s, the main difference being that R.E.M. was truly more of an all-for-one-and-one-for-all band, whereas the Smiths were more of a creative partnership (Morrissey and Marr) and two subordinates. The other major difference between the two bands it that R.E.M. went on to achieve massive worldwide stardom and critical acclaim upon finally signing with a major label (Warner Brothers) in 1988, whereas the Smiths split before ever recording a note for their major label (EMI). Because of this difference, R.E.M. went on to have an extremely successful 31 year career as opposed to the Smiths' mere 5 years. R.E.M.'s music covered the gamut from jangly guitar rock, folk, punk, country, glam rock, Americana, and every other genre that influenced them. Even among R.E.M. fans, there are many who only prefer the earlier jangle-pop, some who prefer the later, lusher material, and some like me who love it all. Because of this last fact, I thought it would be difficult to choose just one song to represent them, but in fact the more I thought about it, all roads led back to my favorite R.E.M. song which I also think crystallizes their essence perfectly.
Man On the Moon. Yes, it's one of their most well-known songs and comes from their most commercially and critically acclaimed album, Automatic For the People. Even though it might seem like a safe choice, I really think it does everything it's supposed to do for this little thought exercise. It's got a ridiculously catchy chorus, showcases all four members' musicianship, and integrates multiple aspects of their sound such as rock, country, Americana, and pop. It's also got lyrics that are at once nonsense yet meaningful and funny, often at the same time. Coincidentally, it comes almost in the middle of R.E.M.'s career and covers all of the musical ground in a way I can't really explain any more. Just listen for yourself to see what I mean, unless you're a fan in which case you'll already get it.
Suede:Shifting gears back to the other side of the pond, I've already written a feature on Suede here on the blog, so I won't get into too much detail regarding their career. Briefly, though, while they've been around for 25 years, they've only released six albums (in addition to a host of superb non-album singles and B-sides). They certainly changed their sound up from album to album, but they definitely remained true to their roots, with all of their music drawing heavily upon 1970s David Bowie, the Smiths, and Pet Shop Boys. They did foray into more straight-ahead 1960s-tinged pop with 1996's Coming Up and electronic experimentation on 1999's Head Music, but by and large the sound they established on their 1993 self-titled debut has remained the foundation upon which all of it is built. That being said, Suede still managed to pen songs that rocked in equal proportion to dark, achingly beautiful and despairing ballads. Perhaps that's why my go-to song for Suede is none other than...
The Wild Ones. Repeatedly cited by Bernard Butler as his favorite Suede song ever, I find it hard to argue. A beautiful ballad with an incredibly complex guitar part running throughout, it also contains one of Brett Anderson's best vocals and lyrics and is at the top of the list for the best of the Anderson/Butler songwriting partnership. A romantically doomed ballad of a love rapidly slipping through the singer's fingers, the extended version has another fantastic Butler guitar solo (is there any other kind?) which was inexplicably edited out of the album version on 1994's Dog Man Star. For me, this only adds to why this song is definitive Suede and why it's the only choice if you have to choose only one song of theirs.
Frank Zappa: Perhaps Zappa is too weird or ambitious a choice for this series of posts: the man's career spanned 30 years and almost 100 albums before he died, and dozens more releases have appeared after his death, drawn from his almost endless vault of studio and live tapes. If ever one artist truly tried to, and oftentimes succeeded in, bringing just about every style of music in existence into his own work, it was Zappa. Blues, rock, jazz, classical, avant garde, spoken word, concept albums, doo-wop, electronic, and many more styles were all amalgamated into his music. As I've written in more detail previously, he was also a keen and wicked social critic and commentator, and there was usually an element of humor to his songs as well. Frank is probably the one artist of whom I'm a fan that is probably impossible to reduce down to one song, but I'm committed (or should be, hah!) at this point, so what the hell...
Montana. Yes, my choice is a song about a fictional dental-floss farmer in Montana who rides a pygmy pony in the moon-lighty-night, rustling his crop with a pair of zircon-encrusted tweezers in his hand. No, there's no cutting social commentary buried in the lyrics to "Montana"...it truly is just Frank having some fun and coming up with a silly, bizarre story. However, it never ceases to bring a smile to my face or elicit a chuckle even after having heard it hundreds of times over the years. Beyond the lyrics, musically this is as complex and rich a Zappa song as you'll hear. Some of the lines the horns, vibraphone, guitar, bass, and drums have to play in unison are staggeringly difficult and showcase the always fantastic musicianship Frank demanded of his band members, no matter who came and went over the years. The vocal arrangements are inventive and harmonically interesting, and of course when you're talking about Zappa, you can never leave his guitar playing out of it..."Montana" has one of the great FZ solos on record, with his snarling, nasty tone achieved through playing through a small amp at maximum volume. His inventive and wholly unique guitar style and technique come through loud and clear...this solo is but one of the numerous reminders that Zappa was a one-of-a-kind master of the guitar. "Montana" doesn't cover all of the musical ground FZ managed to cover in his career, but it incorporates enough of them that in my opinion it's the perfect song for showing anyone who has never heard him what he was all about.
So that's Part 2 wrapped up...I hope you enjoyed reading my picks and would love to hear from you on some of yours. If you're a fan of any of the above musicians, which tracks would you choose for them? And if you've never listened to any of these bands, how did you like these songs?
(stay tuned for Part 3, which will be coming soon!)
Recently I was having a conversation on Twitter with someone about the Rolling Stones when their great song "Can't You Hear Me Knocking" was brought up. The fellow I was chatting with mentioned that, to him, this was the quintessential Stones song. Since it's one of my favorite Stones songs, I could totally see his point, but it also got the wheels in my head turning. Does every band that any of us like have that one song that perfectly encapsulates everything about them? And could this be a fun and interesting way to help each other discover new music by grabbing our interest with that first, special song? I allowed my imagination to get away from me a little bit more and the longer I mulled this over, I decided to have some fun with it.
So here's the challenge:
Imagine that you've just met a time traveler...they could be from 100 years in the past or from 100 years in the future. Or maybe you've met an alien being from another planet who has no idea what music is. Regardless of the scenario, pretend that you are confronted with this person and have to describe what music is (doesn't have to be rock music, it can be any genre). You're explaining it and they're just not understanding what it's all about. You think to yourself "you know what? It'll be easier if I just play them some music...that will convey it better than mere words can." However, they don't have a lot of time before they have to be on their way...you've only got time to play them ONE SONG from each artist, so you need to make sure it counts. This one song needs to:
- encapsulate the artist's essence and overall sound - be memorable enough that it will stick in their head after just one listen - if the artist has distinctly different eras to their music, it should cover enough of them such that it can bridge most, if not all of them in the one song
Sounds tough, right?
After a lot of thinking and analyzing, here are the quintessential songs I've come up with for some of my favorite artists, with explanations why (and audio) to help my arguments. If you like some of these bands, please share your picks in the comments section, as well as your picks for other bands not mentioned here. This is Part 1 of what will be as many posts in the series until I run out of ideas, so here goes!
The Rolling Stones: I have to start with the band that was the impetus for this entire exercise, don't I? I thought long and hard about this because "Can't You Hear Me Knocking" as discussed above would be a great choice: it's got an iconic Keith riff at the beginning, a sexy groove, sneering vocals from Mick, and a killer jam during the second half. However, it's not my choice for their quintessential song mainly because it's not too well known outside of serious Stones fans. That's not to say that the quintessential songs should be the most popular ones, but they should have enough mass appeal such that someone uninitiated could pick up on why after just one listen...after all, that's the reason the song is popular in the first place, right? With that being said, my choice is...
Jumpin' Jack Flash. Released as a non-album single in 1968, for me this song (which narrowly beat out "Satisfaction" and "Gimme Shelter") has all of the ingredients that capture what the Stones are all about: an instantly recognizable riff, a slinky groove, a catchy chorus ("well it's aaaaaaaaaaall right now...") strutting, cocky vocals from Mick, and a darkness and swagger about the lyrics. It's also has one foot in the experimental 1960s Stones approach that they were soon to leave behind while the other foot is firmly planted in the powerful blues/roots rock approach they'd reach their zenith with over the next five years. In short, it captures everything great about the Stones as they were exiting the singles-driven Brian Jones era and entering the album-driven Mick Taylor era.
The Beatles: This was a really tough one because, I mean, how do you only pick ONE song to explain to someone how great the Beatles are? Beyond that, they had so much artistic growth in such a ridiculously short period of time that it's almost impossible to choose just one track that encapsulates everything they did. The early years were marked by infectiously catchy and exciting pop songwriting, the middle years had more complex songs, arrangements, and pioneering recording techniques, and the final years had a more stripped down but no less innovative approach. Beyond that, the sheer number of insanely popular and beloved songs means that there's a huge amount of stuff to choose from. That being said, I thought long and hard about this and came up with my choice, which is...
Hey Jude. Perhaps it's no coincidence that this is also my favorite Beatles song of all time, but I think it really does capture the essence of the band. Play, or even just say, those first two words of the song to anyone and they'll instantly know what you mean. Hell, all of my kids knew this song when they were so young that they could barely speak. It's got a beautiful melody, uplifting lyrics, a great arrangement, and an anthemic chorus that you can't help but sing along to every time you hear it (go ahead and try to resist...I dare you!). Seeing Paul play this (and singing along with the entire crowd) when I saw him in concert was one of the highlights of my life, and that's no joke. It hearkens back to the pop craftsmanship of the early years, the stripped down sound of the later years, and an ambitious production (strings and horns at the end) as in the middle years. Plus, John Lennon was on record for after stating that it was his favorite song that his longtime collaborator ever wrote...coming from John, that's got to count for a lot, doesn't it? (Songs it narrowly edged out: too many to list!)
The Who: There's a lot of ground to try and cover here with this band if you're going to reduce it down to just one song. There's the early, high-energy R&B stuff (1964-65), the mid-1960s power pop with all of those great, classic singles (1966-68), the rock opera/stadium anthems of the 1969-73 period, or the more introspective, cynical, and experimental later era stuff (1975-78). For me, there is and has always been one Who song that perfectly captures the essence of the band, and tough as it is to pass over classics like "Won't Get Fooled Again," "Pinball Wizard," "My Generation," "Love Reign O'er Me," "Slip Kid," and "Who Are You" among many others, the ultimate Who song for me is...
Bargain. First of all, this song has been hailed by critics, fans, and the band themselves as containing one of, if not THE best ensemble performances of the Who's entire career as captured on record. As Pete Townshend once said of this song, "I didn't play the guitar on that one...it played me." It's the perfect balance between the hard rock they were masters of and the melodic introspection Pete was always able to inject into his songs. And of course, you have Roger Daltrey getting inside the heart, mind, and soul of the main character, delivering the vocals with incredible passion and power. The chorus is instantly recognizable and hits you like a ton of bricks ("I call that a bargain...the best I ever had...the best I EVER HAD!"), and the quieter middle section sung by Pete Townshend is so beautiful and moving, musically and lyrically, that it's enough to make you cry. And that, to me, is what makes this the quintessential Who song: it goes from ass-kicking rock to tear-jerker back to kicking your ass again in the span of a few minutes. It doesn't hurt that in addition to Daltrey's and Townshend's tremendous performances, Keith Moon and John Entwistle turn in one of the performances of their lives. John's bass guitar is all over the place, melodic and powerful, while Moon is a monster on the drum kit but is at the same time incredibly tasteful and plays to the song. His double-bass drum flutters and the workout he gives his entire kit during the outro is exciting as all get out, and the final strummed guitar chords and synth melody still give me chills after all these years. Everything great about the Who, all in one song...that's the whole point of this post, isn't it?
(I had to include this live version from San Francisco in December 1971 because it's just so damn good!)
The Kinks: Along similar lines, the Kinks' career was so long and so varied that there are numerous distinct eras that need to be taken into account. There's the early R&B and proto-punk rock/heavy metal of early singles like "You Really Got Me" and "All Day and All of the Night." There's the mature, groundbreaking string of brilliant hit singles from 1965-1968 like "Tired of Waiting For You," "See My Friends," "Waterloo Sunset," "Sunny Afternoon," "Autumn Almanac," "Days," and more. There was the string of brilliant albums beginning with 1966's Face to Face and running through 1972's Everybody's in Showbiz. There was the concept album phase of the early to mid-1970s, their hard rock/arena rock phase of 1977-1984, and the gradual petering out of their career from the mid-1980s until 1996. Ray Davies was one of the most brilliant and prolific songwriters of his, or any, generation (and his brother Dave was no slouch in this department either) and managed to steer the Kinks on an always unpredictable course over their thirty-two year career. And as a fan of all of their material, I found it incredibly hard to choose just one song to encapsulate everything about this great band. How do you pick just one song to cover all of the ground that they did over such a long career? Surely some aspect of their essence, their sound will be left out, right? Keeping all of this in mind, and thinking long and hard about this, I came up with...
Lola. An obvious choice, perhaps, but hear me out. I was trying to come up with one of the more obscure, but no less excellent, Kinks songs to fit the bill and while several came close, all roads kept leading back to Lola. For me, it's the right song for a number of reasons. It has an instantly recognizable and iconic riff at the opening of the song. It straddles the hard rock side of the Kinks' music with a bit of theatrical camp. It has classic Ray Davies lyrics that are not only cerebral and thought-provoking, but very humorous. It's got great harmony vocals from Dave (which I've always found to be absolutely integral and vital to the Kinks' sound), as well as a great band performance from all involved. And the chorus is catchy and, at this point, known by just about anyone in the English speaking world whether they even know the song or not. It also fits perfectly within the Kinks' ethos of being a great standalone single, yet also fitting in context perfectly on the album it was lifted from. Finally, the seemingly humorous (and true!) tale of a man falling in love with a woman who may or may not be a man in drag hints at deeper things, such as questioning and reaffirming what it is that makes the singer masculine. The ambiguity when Ray sings "well I'm not the world's most masculine man, but I know what I am and I'm glad I'm a man, and so is Lola" is classic Davies: is Lola glad he's a man, or is Lola a man, too? It's left unresolved and for the listener to decide. In my mind, the answer to this open-ended question has always been "yes"...as unresolved as the question itself. That's the mark of a great song, and for me Lola is quintessential Kinks.
Led Zeppelin: Yet another band who had distinct phases to their career, although perhaps in a different way to the Kinks, Who, or Beatles. While they definitely incorporated different elements into their sound and effectively utilized dynamics and acoustic instrumentation, they never strayed too heavily from their heavy blues and folk roots. Still, they were definitely a 1960s band that evolved as the 1970s went along, unlike the one-dimensional heavy metal bands they subsequently inspired. That being said, it was still quite difficult for me to distill their musical essence down to just one song because there were so many facets to Led Zeppelin: hard rock, blues, Celtic/English folk, and more. Beyond that, there are signature elements of their sound, from Robert Plant's powerful vocals and Jimmy Page's virtuoso guitar work, to John Paul Jones' brilliant bass guitar and multi-instrument work and John Bonham's fantastic drumming. In addition, Bonham and Jones were one of the finest rhythm sections in the history of rock...one of the few that really locked in and could swing. I had to keep all of this in mind when making my decision, which ended up being...
Over the Hills and Far Away. No, I didn't go for the obvious choice of "Stairway to Heaven"...great song, but overplayed to death. As for other signature Zeppelin songs like "Black Dog," "Whole Lotta Love," "Immigrant Song," "Achilles Last Stand," and others in that same vein, they didn't have as much of the famous light and shade that Zeppelin traded in. Honestly, this song beat out "Kashmir" and "Ramble On" by a very slim margin: "Kashmir" just doesn't feature enough of Page's guitar or Jones' bass, while "Ramble On"...well, it's a GREAT song but I just feel "Over the Hills and Far Away" beats it by a nose. In my opinion, it's got it all when it comes to Zeppelin: a quiet acoustic intro that builds up, a hard rock main body of the song, Plant singing in his best, most powerful wail, driving bass and drums from the Jones/Bonham rhythm section, a great Page electric guitar solo, and a gentle acoustic outro. Plus, it's catchy and melodic, two things Led Zeppelin almost always was (and for which they don't get nearly the credit they deserve). It may not rock as hard as their heaviest moments, but Led Zeppelin was never only about being heavy, and to me "Over the Hills and Far Away" is the perfect cross-section of everything that makes Led Zeppelin great.
The Doors: For the last entry in Part 1, I've decided to pick a song from one of the greatest American rock bands to come out of the 1960s, and again, a personal favorite: The Doors. Besides being one of the biggest bands of the era, the legendary band from Los Angeles had one of the most unique line-ups and sounds in all of rock, consisting solely of guitar, organ, drums, and vocals. No bass guitar at all in the band except on some of their studio tracks. The bulk of the bass parts on record, and all of them on stage, were handled by keyboard player Ray Manzarek's left hand on a Fender Keyboard Bass; at the same time, he played his intricate and complex keyboard/organ/piano melodies with his right hand. Beyond Ray's talent, they had a solid and talented drummer in John Densmore who had more of a jazz background than in rock, but he had a very unique style and sound. The same can be said for guitarist Robby Krieger, who was not a blues and rock based guitarist like the vast majority of his peers, but rather was rooted in classical, jazz, and flamenco guitar. He played without a pick, had a one-of-a-kind style, and wrote the majority of the band's music (along with Morrison). While their various albums had subtle shades and shifts in sound, at their core the Doors were a blues-based psychedelic band with more classical and jazz leanings than anyone around at the time. With all of that said, and with all of their music to choose from, I perhaps still took the obvious way out by choosing their first #1 single...
Light My Fire. Written mainly by Robby Krieger (with significant input from Jim Morrison), the Doors breakthrough single from 1967 is widely considered to be their signature song and in my opinion, is the ultimate Doors song. Starting with a machine-gun crack of John Densmore's snare drum, it's got every element of the Doors sound wrapped up in its 7-minute duration. First, there's Ray Manzarek's throbbing keyboard bass and classical flourish lead melody line that drives the entire song. There's Krieger's bluesy/jazzy fingerpicked guitar licks filling the spaces between throughout, playing more of a supporting role to Ray's keyboards. Densmore's Latin-influenced jazzy drumming and rock-steady backbeat underpins it all and is the foundation the other three rest upon. Jim Morrison's vocals, ranging from his hushed baritone before he gets into his throat-tearing screams, build excitement before he ends the song by whipping himself into a frenzy at the end of the song. The lyrics range from a simple professing of the singer's desire for his girl's love to some slightly darker, almost mysitcal elements as to what needs to happen so that they can "set the night on fire." Sandwiched in between the beginning and ending verses is a long solo section that takes up half of the song and is a showcase for both Manzarek and Krieger, the former playing a hypnotic bassline with his left hand while his right hand solos masterfully, the latter playing a very jagged and dissonant solo that sounds nothing like all of the blues noodling of his fellow American guitar contemporaries. While the Doors had loads of great songs throughout their career, for me, "Light My Fire" is the song that has all of the elements that made the Doors one of the biggest American rock bands of the late 1960s and early 1970s.
So concludes Part 1 of this series! It was a lot of fun and made me really think about what it is about each of these bands that appeals to me when it comes to their music. If you're a fan of any of these bands, what do you think of my selections? Agree/disagree? And for your own favorites, what would your one song be to show an uninformed listener what they were all about? Part 2 will have more of these song choices from other bands, so I hope you'll stick with me as we go through this exercise!
The classic Suede line-up circa 1993, left to right: Simon Gilbert (drums), Bernard Butler (guitars, piano), Brett Anderson (vocals), Mat Osman (bass guitar)
Welcome to this next entry in my series of profiles on some of my favorite bands. Today's article is about Suede, a band that burst forth from the grimy underbelly of London in the early 1990s and became, for a short time, one of the finest British bands of the decade. Propelled by the exquisite songwriting team of Brett Anderson and Bernard Butler, along with Butler's equally impressive guitar playing and the great rhythm section of Mat Osman (bass guitar) and Simon Gilbert (drums), Suede explored a seedier, more haunting, and realistic urban vein of British rock than many of their peers in the 1990s BritPop scene. However, tensions within the band brought on by a variety of reasons led to the original line-up's implosion by the end of 1994. Regrouping with a new guitarist who also happened to be a 17 year old Suede superfan (Richard Oakes) and Simon Gilbert's cousin on keyboards (Neil Codling), Suede remade themselves and released a two more successful albums before quietly losing steam in the early 2000s and calling it a day. After solo albums and various side projects (including a surprise reunion between Anderson and Butler that led to the excellent, albeit short-lived band The Tears), Suede reformed in the late 2000s (with the Oakes/Codling configuration) and, with a great new album released two years ago, are again an active band producing great music. How they got to this point, as well as the excellent music they made along the way, will be the subject of the following profile now that you've read my potted Suede history, so read on and be enlightened...
The genesis of Suede was at University College London in 1989 when Brett Anderson met Justine Frischmann and, along with Brett's childhood friend Mat Osman, decided to form a band. After placing a now-famous ad for a guitarist in NME that read "Young guitar player needed by London based band. Smiths, Commotions, Bowie, Pet Shop Boys. No Musos. Some things are more important than ability. Call Brett," they received a response from a young guitarist named Bernard Butler. He was only 19 but even at the stage was an incredibly talented musician who was obsessed with Johnny Marr's work with the Smiths. Initially playing small club gigs with a drum machine, they eventually recorded a short demo with none other than former Smiths drummer Mike Joyce occupying the drum stool. Joyce declined to stay full time, not wanting to burden the young band (who were influenced by his former band) by staying on as a member (which is quite a gracious thing to do, actually!). Eventually they brought Simon Gilbert into the fold and, apart from Frischmann on rhythm guitar, the now classic Suede lineup of Brett Anderson (vocals), Bernard Butler (guitar, piano), Mat Osman (bass guitar), and Simon Gilbert (drums) was complete. This is where the great music (and later, the drama) really started...
By 1991, Brett and Justine had split as a couple but she was still in the band. Making matters worse, she then embarked upon what would eventually be a high-profile and extended relationship with Damon Albarn from Blur. Her tardiness or absences at Suede engagements, often because she was hanging around with Blur on video shoots, hurt and angered Brett enough that eventually she was sacked; according to all involved, it galvanized the band and crystallized their sound into what they would become famous for. (Justine would eventually go on to fame fronting Elastica). While their brand of dark, sweeping, and despairingly romantic music was out of step with the Madchester/baggy and shoegazing sounds then in vogue in the early 1990s UK, they continued to gig while the Anderson/Butler songwriting partnership began to bear real fruit. They began to attract the notice of the UK music press and even ended up on the front cover of Melody Maker with the headline "Suede: The Best New Band in Britain." Eventually signing with indie label Nude Records in 1992, they released a trio of singles that were stunning in quality and sound for such a young band: "The Drowners," "Metal Mickey," and "Animal Nitrate." Furthermore in what would become a Suede tradition these songs had B-sides that were as good as (or sometimes, better than) their A-sides. Suede's B-sides would continue to be of such high quality that many of them outshone album tracks and would eventually lead to a double-album release later in the 1990s.
Their self-titled debut album was released in 1993 and quickly went to #1 in the UK charts. It was full of incredible songs in addition to the first three singles, such as "So Young," "She's Not Dead," and "Pantomime Horse." The palpable sense of despair, longing, and doomed romanticism permeated every one of the album's songs and was so unique amidst what contemporaries like Blur, Pulp, and Oasis were doing. Even given the success of the album in the UK, as well as its respectable performance in the US (where it remains to this day Suede's biggest selling album), things were not well within the band. Bernard Butler was unhappy with producer Ed Buller while he and Brett, whose songwriting partnership had been so productive and successful, were moving in totally opposite directions. While Brett and the rest of the band were enjoying their fame and increasing their indulgences in drugs and alcohol, Butler was moving into writing and arranging more complex music. A grueling tour of the USA in support of their first album with the Cranberries as their opening band turned out to be the beginning of the end for Suede Mk. I as the two bands eventually swapped positions on the bill since the Cranberries were more popular with American audiences than Suede (there's no accounting for taste, I suppose). While the debauchery of the road was described years later as "wicked" by Mat Osman, Butler was dealing with the death of his father back in England and his recent engagement; he had no interest in partying with the rest of Suede and even took to riding on the Cranberries' tour bus between shows. Worst of all, they were sued by an obscure American smooth-jazz singer who had trademarked the name "Suede" in the USA; from then on the band have been legally forced to use the name "The London Suede" in the USA which not only sounds terrible but, as Brett said years later, is NOT the true name of the band. A standalone UK #3 single, "Stay Together" was released between the first two albums and while much loved by Suede fans, the song and its video have been disowned by the band (unfairly so, in my view). During their UK tour of early 1994 Bernard Butler played what would turn out to be his final show with Suede as work on their second album proved to be the final nail in the coffin for his tenure in the band. Brett Anderson had recently moved into an old, isolated Victorian mansion in Highgate and escalated his intake of hallucinogens in pursuit of artistic enlightenment and inspiration. He was also going through trying personal times in his romantic relationship while Butler took some swipes at him in the press. The major factors leading to his split from the band were Butler's presentation of longer and more elaborate songs and more critically, his dislike of Ed Buller's production: he felt it was lacking and that he could do a better job, while Brett, Mat, and Simon sided with the producer. Bernard gave them an ultimatum: Buller or me, and shockingly they called his bluff. The album, which would be released as Dog Man Star pate in 1994, was still some distance from completion and required overdubs from Butler which took place alone in a different studio, while Brett had to finish writing lyrics and replaced all of his guide vocals with proper tracks. One song, "The Power," didn't even have final guitar parts by Butler and was completed by a session guitarist who used Bernard's demo for reference. The end result was an album that, while a critical darling now considered Suede's masterpiece (an assessment I wholeheartedly agree with) which sold respectably and reached #3 in the UK album charts, was completely overshadowed in a year that was dominated by Blur's Parklife and Oasis' Definitely Maybe. It's a shame because from beginning to end it's a stunning record, from the striking album cover to the gloomy, romantic, and despairing music contained within. Such exquisite songs like "We Are the Pigs," "The Wild Ones," "Daddy's Speeding," "New Generation," and "The Asphalt World" stand up alongside anything anyone else in 1990s rock was producing. The album as a whole presents a look at England and relationships that is seedier, darker, more violent, and rougher than what was going on around them in the dayglo BritPop scene, making it out of step enough from the rest of the BritPop/Cool Britannia movement that it was never mainstream despite being as good artistically as anything else.
So there Suede found themselves at the end of 1994 with an album that deserved far better than its commercial fate and without their guitarist who also happened to co-write all of their songs. The latter issue was quickly resolved by bringing in Richard Oakes to fill the vacant spot. Oakes was a 17 year old Suede fan who had sent in a demo tape of himself playing Butler's parts note-for-note, much in the same way Butler had made tapes of himself doing the same to Johnny Marr's guitar parts from the Smiths a decade earlier. He even looked the part, with long black hair and a red Gibson ES-355 just like Butler played. Indeed, Bernard was less than impressed, criticizing his old band in the press as having replaced him with a "copy." The band toured Dog Man Star in 1995 but as it was an album recorded by an incarnation of the band that no longer existed, their hearts weren't really in it. Regrouping for their next album, Anderson decided the band would make a pop album where every track could be a single, similar to his and Osman's beloved 80s pop records. Bringing in Simon Gilbert's cousin Neil Codling on keyboards, the resulting album, Coming Up, was released in 1996 and was a bold and bracing statement from Suede Mk. II. Eschewing the dark, 70s glam sartorial style of the original lineup, the new version of the band favored of an all-jet black look (hair, leather jackets, t-shirts, jeans, and Dr. Martens) as they underwent a visual as well as a musical makeover. The resulting album showed that musically the band were as good as ever with Oakes a more than capable replacement for Butler while Codling's keyboards added a new texture to their sound. The album itself was a big success with Brett's prediction proven to be half correct; a whopping FIVE of the album's ten tracks were released as singles, all reaching the top 10. However, the following album would prove to be more problematic...
Suede Mk. II (1995-present), Left to Right: Gilbert, Richard Oakes, Osman, Anderson, Neil Codling
In between 1996's Coming Up and its follow up, 1999's Head Music, Suede released a double album compilation of their B-sides called Sci-Fi Lullabies. What this album did was show the rest of the world what Suede fans had known for years: that the band's B-sides were of a quality equal to or surpassing many other band's album cuts. Standouts like "My Insatiable One," "He's Dead," "To the Birds," "Together," and "Young Men" were just some of the riches to be found on this compilation. Focusing on new music, however, all was not well in the Suede camp during the making of Head Music. Brett had sunk even further into his drug habit, now becoming addicted to crack cocaine. In order to cope with the increasingly chaotic sessions, Richard Oakes began to drink heavily while Neil Codling began suffering from the effects of chronic fatigue syndrome (CFS). Coupled with a more electronic and experimental sound, it all added up to a recipe for disaster and while the resulting music wasn't terrible, it was inconsistent and contained the single worst song Suede ever recorded (the Neil Codling-penned "Elephant Man"). The album did, however, contain some absolute stunners like "Electricity," "She's In Fashion," "He's Gone," and "Everything Will Flow." It went to #1 in the UK album charts but there was a sinking feeling that Suede were a spent force as Brett's lyrics veered into self-referential self-parody and the experimental approach to the music didn't come off as well as hoped. Codling's CFS caused him to leave the band shortly thereafter, further upsetting Brett as he struggled to and finally succeeded in conquering his drug addictions. Feeling refreshed and rejuvenated, the band recruited former Strangelove member Alex Lee as Codling's replacement and recorded 2002's A New Morning. Vilified by the band and fans alike, the album proved to be Suede's nadir and while there are some decent songs ("Lost in TV," "Beautiful Loser," and "Astrogirl") overall it was an unsatisfying confection: Suede as toothless, middle of the road pop band. After playing some gigs where they performed each of their albums in full on successive nights and releasing a single compilation with two new tracks, the band quietly split up in 2003. Brett would go on to reunite with Bernard to form the band The Tears, who recorded and released an excellent album entitled Here Come the Tears. They played several gigs around the UK and Europe and even supposedly recorded a follow-up album that sadly remains unreleased as they quietly disbanded a short time after. In the immediate aftermath of his leaving Suede, Bernard had recorded two excellent albums with soul singer David McAlmont as well as two uneven but solid solo albums. Following the demise of the Tears, Brett released some low key solo albums that were quite good but sadly got little exposure. However, after years of rumors and clamoring from fans, Suede got back together (with Codling back in the fold) for a one-off show in 2010 for the Teenage Cancer Trust. They continued to play some festival shows and handfuls of gigs around the UK and Europe before the reunion finally became official. Their most recent album to date, 2013's Bloodsports, brought the band's sound up to date while still retaining all of their trademark touches...the result was a fantastic work that is among their best and stands up to any of their excellent 1990s work. The same goes for the B-sides associated with the album's singles. Suede are rumored to be working on a new album that will hopefully be released within the next year, showing that they are back for good as a creative force to be reckoned with; the music world and die-hard Suede fans are all the better for it.
Personally, Suede were a band I discovered relatively late in my musical development; it wasn't until I was around 20 or 21 years old when I finally bit the bullet and sought out some of their music to listen to. I'd been a Blur fan for several years by this time and had certainly heard of Suede but I'd never taken the time to listen to their stuff until I hit my early 20s. I can say without exaggeration that I was absolutely blown away from the very first listen. Beyond the great music and the mood and emotion they conveyed, the guitarist in me fell in love with Bernard Butler's playing and I added another huge influence to my pantheon of guitar heroes. His sound, his guitar tone, his songwriting, and his approach to playing all loomed very large in my own playing and he's a major influence on me to this day. Like another mutual hero of ours, Johnny Marr, Butler mastered and expounded upon the approach of playing chordal lead lines and rhythm parts at the same time. He even influenced some of the gear I now use: his red Gibson ES-355 (with a Bigsby vibrato arm) played through a Vox amp is a key component of his sound. While I've long been a lover of Vox amps, I hadn't ever used semi-hollow bodied electric guitars but after getting into Suede, in 2005 I bought an Epiphone ES-335 (a great guitar made by the Gibson company but for a quarter of the price!) and I installed a Bigsby vibrato on it. Since then, it's been my go-to guitar for the majority of my playing, a really versatile workhorse that not only affected my playing by my songwriting as well. I've also worked very hard at incorporating Bernard's technique into my own playing...while I'm not nearly as good as he is, I'm getting there! Musically they've given me a wealth of material to enjoy and are one of the bands where absolutely every track they release is essential to have. I've got all of their B-sides and oftentimes will listen to just those on their own, they're that good. Because I don't have personal experience with most, if not all, of the aspects touched on in the darker reaches of Suede's music, I can't personally relate to much of it even though I continue to enjoy the hell out of it. There still are, however, many, many of their songs that mean a lot to me for reasons having to do with love, loss, uncertainty, confusion, and yes, even happiness. Just like the Smiths, Suede are often unfairly labeled as a "depressing/gloomy" band, but they have their fair share of songs about the various joys of life, love, and music. Perhaps more than most bands from my own generation that I'm into, they've had the strongest impact on my own music-making and as such, deserve their lofty position in my hierarchy of favorite bands.
Blur: L to R Graham Coxon, Dave Rowntree, Damon Albarn, Alex James
The most surprising thing about this band profile you're about to read about Blur is that it's taken me as long as it has to finally write it. They are one of my most favorite bands in the world and probably the only band of the past twenty years that I hold in as high esteem as many of the legends from the 1960s. Let me rephrase that, actually: while many bands of the past twenty to thirty years can stand up to the legends of the 1960s and 1970s, in my opinion Blur are at the top of that heap. Better? My obsessive fandom of Blur is rivaled only by the way I feel about the Beatles, Who, and Kinks although I've spent more time and energy on channeling that love of Blur's music into something constructive than I have for any other band. I certainly didn't spend months and years of research on (insert shameless plug here) writing on two books for a band I don't care much about.
For those uninitiated in all things Blur, they are a band from London whose career spans 1988 to the present, although they've been in an on-again-off-again hiatus since 2003 (we'll get into this later on). Three of the band, Damon Albarn (vocals, songwriting, piano/keyboards/synthesizers, guitars, melodica), Graham Coxon (lead guitar, vocals), and Dave Rowntree (drums) grew up in Colchester while Alex James (bass guitar) is from Bournemouth. However, it wasn't until Alex and Graham met as classmates at Goldsmiths college that they decided to forma band, bringing Graham's childhood friend Damon and another fellow he'd played in bands with as a teenager (Dave) into the fold. They initially called themselves Seymour and rehearsed in a studio Damon was managing as they built up a repertoire of original material and got to know one another as musicians. Even at this early stage, musically they were a very tight and powerful outfit: Graham would soon emerge as one of the premier guitarists of the 1990s, Alex would emerge as one of the great British bass players of the 1990s with his endlessly inventive and melodically basslines, and Dave as a powerhouse drummer with plenty of chops who always played for the song. The wild card at this early stage was Damon, who was ambitious to the point of overconfidence but struggled to find his voice as a singer and songwriter.
Their early material was loud, discordant, dissonant, and played at breakneck speed: a cross between punk, ska, new wave, and noisy Syd Barrett-era Pink Floyd. Graham brought influences like the Who, Beatles, and King Crimson to the table, while Damon was into British Two-Tone ska and new wave. However, while Damon's lyrics at this stage were mostly rubbish, there was (usually) a strong melody lurking beneath the sonic assault. Eventually, via word of mouth from gigging in and around London, they caught the eyes and ears of Dave Balfe and Andy Ross, who owned and operated an indie label called Food Records that had the backing and distribution muscle of EMI Records behind it. Signed to the label in 1990 as Balfe's quest to find "the next Jesus Jones" (anyone my age or older will remember them), the first order of business was for the band, at Food's insistence, to change their name. They eventually settled on Blur and began recording their first single, which would be released later in the year. "She's So High" was a simple song with vague lyrics and a repetitive chord sequence, but it was saved by the band's high energy playing, sinewy guitar work from Graham, and the psychedelic and trippy atmosphere of both the song and the accompanying video. The song did respectably in the charts, but it wasn't until their second single, "There's No Other Way," released in 1991, that they had their first breakthrough into the mainstream. The song went top 10 and the band exploded onto the national scene. A debut album, Leisure, was recorded and released in 1991 as well. As far as debuts go it's not bad, but it's very uneven and not a true representation of what Blur would go on to sound like. It suffered on the one hand from too much record company interference (too many producers, Balfe's overbearing presence and personality clashes with Damon which I'll touch on in a bit) while on the other hand, the songs just weren't that good. For each gem like the aforementioned singles, the haunting "Sing," the bouncy and catchy "Bad Day," and the power pop of "Come Together" there was weaker fare like "Fool," the slight (but unfairly maligned) "Bang," and the vapidness of "I Know" and "High Cool." That's not to say I don't like the album...I do, and even the weaker songs have things to redeem them, usually a great bassline or a killer guitar lick. But the overall impact was a far cry from such powerful and fully realized debuts such as those by Blur's two biggest rivals and contemporaries in the 1990s British scene, Suede's self-titled debut from 1993 and Oasis' "Definitely Maybe" in 1994. However, one good thing to come out of this entire experience was the chance to work with former Smiths producer Stephen Street, who would go on to be the George Martin to Blur's Beatles for most of the decade.
Their initial success in 1991 began to erode as subsequent singles sold poorer than the last and the band's sound was seen as riding on the coattails of dying trends, in particular Madchester/baggy and shoegaze. Their 1992 one-off single "Popscene" was a abrupt musical about-face and is one of the great lost singles by any band...it sank without a trace and baffled the public, being too far ahead of its time to gain mass appeal although in the years since, it's been rightly hailed as a call to arms that British rock music, too often brushed aside in favor of the hair metal and grunge music being imported from America in the late 1980s and early 1990s, was finally worth noticing again. Their subsequently miserable American tour of 1992 and a legendarily drunken and embarrassing London charity gig in 1992 led to Food threatening to drop them if they didn't get their act together and their prodigious drinking under control. This seemed to be the wake-up call that was needed, the proverbial hitting of rock-bottom before beginning the climb to the top. Blur would spend the rest of the decade as the premier British band, comparisons to the Beatles being not mere hyperbole but apposite and warranted. Beginning with their second album, 1993's Modern Life is Rubbish and continuing through with 1999's 13, Blur released a series of albums and singles that helped to define their decade and that stand alongside any great British rock albums of the 1960s, 70s, or 80s. Initially rejected by Balfe for "not having enough singles," Albarn wrote two of the best songs of his career that eventually ended up on Modern Life. Opening track "For Tomorrow" is a despairing and beautiful portrait of a London on the decline complete with singalong "la la la la la" chorus, while "Chemical World" looks at the superficiality of modern life with a shimmering and spidery guitar riff that would make George Harrison proud. The rest of the album, a look at the crass consumerism of 1990s Britain in contrast with its decaying traditions, is no less powerful, from the bludgeoning Ray Davies-esque character studies of "Colin Zeal" and "Pressure on Julian" to the psychedelic 1960s English music hall revival of "Sunday Sunday," the proto-metal of "Oily Water," the gorgeous Lennon and McCartney-flavored "Starshaped" and "Blue Jeans," and contempt that is both sneering ("Advert") and wearily accepted ("Resigned"). In between, there are German-inspired punk interludes, boozy ballads, and the kitchen sink. In short, it is the greatest 1960s British rock album of the 1990s. While it wasn't a smash hit, it sold respectably, hung around the middle-reaches of the charts, and built momentum for the band's new musical manifesto that was enhanced by their relentless schedule of live performances. All of this set the stage for their breakthrough...
1994's Parklife has rightfully been called one of the defining albums of the 1990s and it's easy to hear why even 20 years later. It's a collection of songs that just bristles with energy and defines its era in a way that very few albums manage to do. From the opening sleazy synth-pop blast of "Girls and Boys" to the dark, shadowy, and majestic closer "This is a Low," the album runs the gamut of styles from Kinks-style character sketches to Euro-thrash punk, Beatle-esque melodies, noisy Husker Du power pop and everything in between. Combined with an instantly memorable and eye-catching album cover and superb production from Stephen Street, it marked Blur's ascension to the top of the mountain in British rock and made them megastars.
So how do you follow a masterpiece? Blur unleashed The Great Escape in 1995, another #1 album, and after winning a protracted and nasty singles chart battle against Oasis, they were the kings of British rock music. However, the mania surrounding the band nearly tore them apart and in particular led to some immense strain between Damon and Graham. Revisionist reviewing by the UK music press after the initially laudatory reviews of Blur's new album and their tepid reviews of Oasis' new album led to the former album being slated in subsequent years while the latter took on almost mythic status. The truth, as usual, lies somewhere in between. While The Great Escape overall was strong, it took Damon's character sketches to a darker, sneering extreme. Realizing the band's music and cohesion couldn't last if they continued down this path, they spent 1996 reinventing themselves and released what is probably the best album of their career, 1997's self-titled masterpiece.
Similar to the White Album, it's a sprawling yet cohesive work that is at times dark, humorous, despairing, and affirming as it covers a range of styles from perfect Beatle-esque rock ("Beetlebum" and "Look Inside America"), Bowie-ish psychedelia ("Strange News From Another Star), noisy thrash ("Song 2," "Chinese Bombs"), trip-hop ("I'm Just a Killer For Your Love," "Death of a Party"), and everything in between. They continued further in this direction with 1999's 13, this time breaking from Stephen Street and working with William Orbit. It's a much dirtier, noisier, and more harrowing album inspired in part by Damon's split from Justine Frischmann after nearly a decade as the premier power couple of 1990s British rock. Pieced together from Damon's demos and long, weird jams the band played in the studio, the album is as emotionally draining to listen to (check out "Battle" or "Caramel") as it was for the band to make, although there are also moments of fun ("Coffee and TV") and beauty ("Tender," "No Distance Left to Run," "Optigan 1"). However, when working on the follow-up in 2002, Graham left the band under mysterious circumstances. The resulting album, Blur's final album which was recorded as a three-piece with Damon taking over guitar duties, was 2003's eclectic Think Tank. Often called a Gorillaz album masquerading as a Blur album and drenched in Damon's ongoing fascination with world music and hip-hop, it's every bit as dark and dense an album as 13, from the uplifting opening track "Ambulance" to the despair of "On the Way to the Club" and the heartache of "Battery In Your Leg" (which is the only album track to feature Graham on guitar). After the tour to promote the album, the band went on a hiatus that, apart from some rumored activity in 2005 that never came to fruition, lasted all the way through Damon's worldwide success as the creative force behind Gorillaz and other various side-projects, until the end of 2008 when Damon and Graham repaired their friendship and got the band back together.
From 2009 through 2014, Blur toured around the world (although they inexplicably only played a mere two shows in America, where they have a large and dedicated cult following, including yours truly!) and released three new songs: 2010's one-off single "Fool's Day" on Record Store Day, and 2012's "Under the Westway" backed with "The Puritan." They showed that their live shows were as powerful and that the band were as tight as they ever were (more on their live performances in a bit), and the setlists were a nice cross section of their entire career, including quite a few rarities thrown in on the 2012 and 2013 set lists. However, while there were a few attempts to record a new album (most famously, sessions with William Orbit in early 2012 that ended in a public row in the musical papers, as well as some demo sessions in Hong Kong later in 2013 that came to naught), their final show in Tokyo in early 2014 has been the last we've heard from Blur as a band. Damon has been active, as usual, with an excellent debut solo album and a tour that started in 2014 that shows no signs of slowing down heading into 2015. However, for the foreseeable future (and in my gut feeling), Blur are finished. Besides Damon's solo career, Graham continues to record and release a series of interesting solo albums that he begun in 1998, Dave is a solicitor and radio/club DJ, and Alex is a writer and farmer.
I don't make the following comparisons lightly, but there are MANY parallels between Blur and the Beatles. Taking the Beatles' huge impact on pretty much every aspect of Western culture out of the equation and focusing solely on music, the two bands are much more similar than you probably think. As an obsessive fan of both bands, I've spent countless hours pondering these similarities, so here goes. First, both bands consist of four members and only those four members throughout their years of fame. Yes, the Beatles had Stuart Sutcliffe and Pete Best, as well as countless other transient members in their earlier years, while Blur had additional members who came and went before they settled on their classic line-up. But from the moment when both bands began their recording careers and started their career ascension, they both had stable line-ups that never changed. John, Paul, and George all grew up together and were best friends; Ringo, who they got to know years before he joined the band, fit right in and the band became known as a tight unit made up of four distinctive personalities. The same is true for Blur: Damon, Graham, and Dave were friends growing up and when Alex was brought into the fold later, the personalities meshed. Again, a band that looked like (and was) a gang of brothers, all with unique and instantly identifiable personalities. In both bands, every member was integral to their sound and image and each was 100% irreplaceable. Both were led by two dominant creative individuals, although in the Beatles' case it was collaborative (Lennon/McCartney) whereas in Blur there is one songwriter (Albarn) and his lieutenant who helps with arrangements (Coxon). Both bands have rock-solid rhythm sections led by incredibly melodic bass players (McCartney and James) and drummers who have the chops to stretch out when they need to but always play for the song (Starr and Rowntree). The Beatles were obviously more prolific, releasing 13 albums (one of which is a double album) and 14 non-album singles and b-sides over the course of their 8 year recording career, whereas Blur clock in with only 7 albums and 6 non-album singles over the course of their nearly 25 years of existence. However, what both have in common is that they always pushed forward and continually developed and evolved their sound, never releasing an album that sounded like anything before it. While the Beatles' and Blur's closest peers, the Rolling Stones and Oasis, respectively, made many great records and stood neck-and-neck with them in the charts, both had a tendency to not deviate much from their signature sounds. Not so for the Beatles and Blur: while the Beatles obviously made much larger leaps, going from Please Please Me to Revolver/Sgt. Pepper to Abbey Road in a span of 7 years, Blur's jumps from Modern Life is Rubbish/Parklife to Blur to 13 were no less dramatic in the 1990s.
Where the two bands differ significantly, however, is when live performances enter the equation. I realize it isn't an entirely fair comparison because the Beatles gigged relentlessly in their pre-fame days and were hampered by being famous during the infancy of the rock concert era, when amplification and PA equipment was woefully inadequate for the enormous venues and audiences they were playing. However, during their fame years, they only toured from 1962-1966 and by the end were only playing 20-30 minute sets that no one (including the band themselves) could hear anyway. By contrast, Blur undertook years of grueling, year-long world tours every year from 1990 to 1997 before scaling back, although their schedules in 1999, 2003, and 2012-13 were no less rigorous. And where the Beatles spent most of their touring years limited by their equipment as to what they could reproduce onstage, Blur were much more adventurous, throwing in a lot of deeper album cuts and b-sides into their set lists over the years. (You can, of course, read all about this in my two books on Blur's live performance history...sorry for the shameless plug but the segue was right there!).
As for what Blur's music means to me, they were the first band who were active during my lifetime that I followed absolutely religiously the way I obsessed over the Beatles, devouring every scrap of news and eagerly awaiting every new single and album. There were other bands I followed seriously during their careers while I was a teenager and into my 20s (notably R.E.M.) but I wasn't as fanatical about them the way I was with Blur. I first heard Blur's music without really knowing it in the early to mid 1990s when "There's No Other Way" and "Girls and Boys" were minor hits on the alternative rock and college radio stations I used to listen to. My first real exposure was in late 1996/early 1997 when I heard tracks from their self-titled album (which was released in February 1997) on the radio. "Song 2" and in particular "Beetlebum" just blew me away and led me to buy the album and devour it. Later on that year, my roommate happened to have a copy of The Great Escape that he didn't particularly care for. With that, I was on my way and I've been a rabid fan ever since. My only lament about my fandom is that I wasn't able to somehow be in the UK during all of it, because while they are huge in the UK and also hugely popular in Europe, Asia, and South America, they've always been a cult band here in the USA, darlings of Anglophiles and indie rock lovers in the know and all but ignored by mainstream music and radio. For perspective, while in the UK Damon is first and foremost the lead singer of Blur and Gorillaz is known to be his side project, in America the script is flipped: he's guy behind Gorillaz who also used to be in "that band that did that woo-hoo song." That being said, I am fortunate enough to have seen them in concert, once in 2003, and it was a fantastic show. I had a chance to see Blur in 1999 as well but passed on it due to scheduling conflicts with my exams, a decision I've regretted ever since. I've also seen Gorillaz (2010) and Damon (2014) and in all cases, Damon has proven that he is one of the most talented and diverse musicians of the past 25 years. Blur's music has not only soundtracked most of my life but has led me to write books on them and allowed me to connect with so many people around the world through the online fan community, some of whom I consider true friends (we will meet one day soon!). It's also been really gratifying when I've introduced my friends to their music over the years and converted them into big fans.
Blur now: Alex, Damon, Graham, Dave
While many bands have claimed to take up the mantle of the Beatles, I really do think that Blur are the closest anyone has gotten, checking off all of the relevant boxes: stable band membership, unique individual personalities, timeless music, and an ever-changing and developing sound. If you're still skeptical, I hope you'll dig a bit deeper than the overview I've presented here and discover their music for yourself. I bet you won't be disappointed!
