I Know You Say Love When You Mean Control
December 7, 2015 Leave a comment
Pour a drink for Sam Phillips’ wonderful Martinis & Bikinis, now up at 100 Albums.
December 7, 2015 Leave a comment
Pour a drink for Sam Phillips’ wonderful Martinis & Bikinis, now up at 100 Albums.
October 10, 2013 1 Comment
Introducing an occasional new feature where I dissect examples of various pop culture phenomena and, um, basically, it’s a top five list (in no particular order). For years, I’ve also wanted to write about my favorite album closing tracks (because the “side one, track one” thing has been done to death); here’s five out of many I could have chosen.
Sam Phillips, “Where The Colors Don’t Go” (from Cruel Inventions)
At best, a strong album closer encapsulates everything great about the whole record while also feeling like an ending, providing some sense of closure. This track at the end of Phillips’ second secular LP lyrically reads like a career-defining manifesto, while Van Dyke Parks’ stirring string arrangement sweetens what could have risked sounding like a mere diatribe in a plainer setting.
Roxy Music, “Prairie Rose” (from Country Life)
Often, the best album closers are songs you never previously knew existed. Take Roxy Music’s fourth album, whose singles were “All I Want Is You” and “Out of the Blue”–both great tunes, but “Prairie Rose” is better. Everything about it showcases the glam Brits at their peak, from its propulsive, sly groove to Andy McKay’s frenetic sax solos to vocalist Bryan Ferry’s inspired interjections (“you’re TAHN-talizing me!”).
Portishead, “Glory Box” (from Dummy)
Most great album closers seem tailor-made for that slot in the sequence–you couldn’t imagine it placed in any other position (consequently, it runs the risk of sounding really out-of-place on a compilation). This trip-hop primer’s finale is a grand one indeed, slo-o-o-w-l-y fading in until it reveals itself as a declarative anthem in its chorus. Then, it goes even further than that (Beth Gibbons sounds on the brink of a violent death as she loudly sings the line that begins with “THIS IS THE BEGINNING…”) before slowly fading back out into the ether.
Belle and Sebastian, “Stay Loose” (from Dear Catastrophe Waitress)
The last track on an album is often reserved for its most atypical song: it could be an experiment, a deliberate stylistic departure, or simply a weak throwaway (on occasion, it can be all three). This Scottish group’s shiny, happy 2003 album is, in its entirety a departure from their earlier, moodier work and a generally successful one at that; this six-minute closer goes further afield, sporting an acerbic new wave influence never present before, but splendidly executed in service of an excellent melody and gleeful dueling guitar solos.
Sparks, “Suburban Homeboy” (from Lil’ Beethoven)
I mentioned album closers that aptly summed up the songs that preceded them; I also talked about ones that pivoted towards something new. Ladies and gentlemen, this one does both simultaneously and although it serves as an exquisite jumping-off point for this venerable duo’s eccentric melding of operatic/classical embellishments and pop music, it also perfectly caps off an album full of similarly themed and arranged songs with its most outrageous and inspired idea: a Gilbert and Sullivan-like testimonial to white boys who act like they’re black.
August 20, 2013 3 Comments
20. Sam Phillips, “What Do I Do”
From her fittingly-titled first secular album The Indescribable Wow, a lush, Van Dyke Parks-arranged orchestral gem that I never tire of getting lost in, especially when the searching, questioning lyrics brush up against Phillips’ divine multilayered vocals. Although the world of Contemporary Christian music lost one of its rising stars, the rest of us gained a real, fruitful talent.
19. The Nails, “88 Lines About 44 Women”
A novelty song so obvious and unusual and witty and silly and charming and vulgar that at once you ponder why it didn’t cross over to top 40 radio and know very well why it remained an underground hit. This is the souped-up “RCA version” (as opposed to the deliberately amateurish original), but all you really need in both versions is that excitable, nerdy male narrator.
18. Was (Not Was), “Knocked Down, Made Small”
They eventually hit big with “Walk The Dinosaur”, but this hard-to-categorize collective of Detroit weirdos put out two crazy LPs earlier in the decade. This great lost single from 1983 shows they could combine new wave, hard rock and funk as well as Prince did at the time–possibly better, as they had gruff, powerful vocalist Sweet Pea Atkinson in their court.
17. The Go-Go’s, “Our Lips Are Sealed”
As perfect a pop song as #28 (though I also really like this version), The Go-Go’s updated the girl group for a more advanced and cynical age. Despite the sunny harmonies and a generally wistful air, the band’s knowing, cautionary performance lends the song a bittersweet edge. You could listen to it one hundred times before even discovering it, but it’s there.
16. ‘Til Tuesday, “Coming Up Close”
More emphatically bittersweet, Aimee Mann knows the fine line between being droll and dour; this was even apparent back in ‘Til Tuesday. Although many of their songs suffer from dated production, this lovely folk-rock number is a striking exception. The organic, pastoral setting brings out the reedy warmth in Mann’s voice and the chorus is more palatable than a fistful of period power ballads.