12 posts from October 2006

Peter Gabriel - "In Your Eyes" - So

I think I might go as Lloyd Dobler for Halloween this year.

Peter Gabriel's career may have hit an apex with this album.  "Sledgehammer" (and that video!), "Big Time," "Red Rain," and "In Your Eyes" are a murderer's row of classic 80's tracks, and they comprise nearly one-third of this album's runtime.  Bonus point, "In Your Eyes" was never a single in Britain, nor did it crack the top-20 in America.  This kills me, since, in retrospect, this record is such a gem, especially so in comparison to the other crap which did manage to chart.

Lyrically, this is one of the finest love songs to come of the 80's, perhaps of any decade.  It's earnest but without sounding like cheese.  It's the credible counterpart to "Take Me Home Tonight" by Eddie Money, which is totally Velveeta.

In your eyes
I want to be that complete
I want to touch the light
The heat I see in your eyes

How incredibly hot.  Had I a vagina, or even a sexy pair of underoos, I'd most certainly be bombarding Mr. Gabriel in concert.

The music is fairly simple, four huge-sounding piano chords during the verse, ultimate lack of guitar at the forefront of any portion, synthesizer during the pre-chorus and chorus.  Peter Gabriel, known for the implementation of African rhythms certainly employed them well on this track; the cymbal, congas and backing vocals during the chorus, as well as the African sub-lead vocal during the outro sound amazing.

The fact that Cameron Crowe, a man with impeccable music taste, chose this song for Say Anything... lends it that much more street cred.  That the song's inspiration was Rosanna Arquette, well, I'm not quite sure what to think.  I mean, can you imagine if Peter Gabriel would have had a muse that wasn't fugly?  The resulting composition probably would have brought about the peace on earth that only Wyld Stallyns are capable of, that's how good it would have been had he chosen a different member of the female species.

I wonder if it was distracting for him, having images of her in his head while in the studio recording the vocals.  And don't give me any of that "she was hot for an 80's chick" jibber jabber.  People weren't uglier on the whole in the 80's, more often than not it was the fashion that made a pretty girl less than.  In Rosanna Arquette's case, she's just icky, and barely tolerable as an actress.  Guh.

Back to the song, it fucking melts my brain.  It's amazingly good, I'll go as far as to say "timeless."  This is the sound of a man bearing his soul to the woman he's in love/like/infatuation with.

...I get so tired of working so hard for our survival
I look to the time with you to keep me awake and alive...

...Without a noise, without my pride
I reach out from the inside...

Let's clasp our hands below our chins and partake in one big simultaneous "Awwww..."

Love,
Hoffie

Pixies - "Gigantic" - Surfer Rosa

I have seen this performed live on, um, three occasions, I think.

Only one time was I fortunate enough to see Kim Deal sing and play this sexiest of sexy ditties.  It's very voyeuristic, this song.

You see, it's about watching two people, you know, do it.  Specifically, a black man and a white chick.  I'm left wondering if this was Kid Rock's inspiration for the seminal closing track from Devil Without a Cause, "Black Chick, White Guy."

Kim Deal just sounds super hot, purring over the steady bassline, and the jammy guitar bits toward the end are spectacularly huge in sound.

My favorite part, instrument-wise, is the guitar bridge, with the single notes.  Damn that's funky.

Oh, back to the part about seeing this song.  I saw it once a long time ago, and for the life of me cannot recall which band did it.  Accoriding to wikipedia, Reel Big Fish covered this for a tribute album, so there's a good chance they covered the song one of the times I saw them.  That's why I think I've seen it three times.

The second was when The Frames, opening for Damien Rice, covered it at the Commodore Ballroom in Vacouver, British Columbia.  I was with Jenne and Joel.  We learned from a sign in Vancouver that it is a "Nuclear Weapons Free Zone."  I wonder if that's talking about the city as a whole, or just the park by which we saw the sign.  Always nice to see a fusion-free swingset.  Anyway, good times, fun trip.

The last time I saw it was at the 2004 Coachella Music & Arts Festival.  Ryan was there, and we made sure to get to the main stage early in order to have prime viewing for the Pixies/Radiohead back-to-back sets.  We ended up with our backs against the sound booth, dead center, leaning over a railing.  On the other side of the railing?  Nothing, just a long walkway directly to the stage that afforded us a perfect view of the entire event.  Fucking. A.

I thought my head was going to explode when I heard it.  Seriously.  Kim still sounds great.

Anway, I dropped her name yesterday in the Mon Frere post, so I thought I could probably see my way to posting something featuring the ever-lovely Kim Deal.

And, yes, I know she has a kid and is married and is a little older than me, but I still totally have a crush on her.  Maybe I'll leave this one up for a while in the hopes that a Cease & Desist order would bear her phone number...

Love,
Hoffie

Mon Frere - "Y.M.M.W.D.S.B." - Blood, Sweat & Swords

Seattle has found it's newest Kim Deal (good looking, great voice, plays a sexy instrument), and I'd say she is more than a little pissed off.

Okay, let's begin with the ridiculously addictive synthesizer.  Holy cow.  I still remember the first time I previewed this track in the RainyDawg studio.  I needed nothing more than the introduction to know that I wanted to play it on my show IMMEDIATELY.  Throw Nouela's killer mic control into the mix with the cool-as-hell single string guitar during the verses and it's a hit.

Winners of EMP's SoundOff competition in 2005 (all bands must be under age), this three piece was presented with a lot of cool stuff, including studio time.  They recorded a rad EP, recipient of lots of well-deserved hype at the ol' station.  Cake Records said, hey, let's do business, bubbie.

This is the lead track from their Cake Records debut, and all I know is that I'm glad to be sitting on my couch in Spokane, assured of the fact that I'm not the target of Nouela's venom.  I assume I'm not, since this song was written before I had a chance to meet her.  

Not only is she pissed, she wants to die.  Either he goes, she goes, or she goes home and sledgehammers some Littlest Hobo figurines.  Somebody did a number on this lip-ringed cutie.

I'll say it once, I'll say it again:
I wanna watch you beg
I wanna hear you cry
I wanna watch you die

It's that last line (and that she's willing to say it multiple times), the way she wails it that really, I mean REALLY, sold me on this record.  The way she squeezes the very last of her lungs onto the tape during the last chorus is damn cool too.  Did I mention that she plays the keys on this track too?  Hot damn.

Cool points: Mon Frere has no bassist.  Keys, a huge guitar sound and driving drums.  Simple and effective.
Bonus cool points: Mon Frere played the RainyDawg Radio Birthday Bash this past year.  Free shows are THE BEST!

Love,
Hoffie

Rage Against The Machine - "War Within A Breath" - The Battle Of Los Angeles

If your speakers are not dangerously close to blowing, your eyes not dangerously close to tears, your ire not close to full, you need to re-evaluate how you listen to this song.

Every official that come in
Cripples us, leaves us maimed
Silent and tamed
And with our flesh and bones
He builds his homes

Ostensibly, this song is about the struggle for immigrant rights in the area surrounding Los Angeles.  Zach De La Rocha is inciting those who are oppressed by the policy levied against them to rise up and take back a city that is built upon their efforts.  Cripes, it's the final track on an album titled The Battle Of Los Angeles.  You thought it was going to be chocolate chip cookies and handjobs?

Speaking as though from a podium in front of a rally at the Lincoln Memorial, De La Rocha is pissed.  Like that's a big departure, but he seems especially angry here.

The distorted vocals that open the track from the left channel contrast with the heavily effect-laden guitar part in the right channel.  The guitar is harsh and relentless, reminiscent of a Public Enemy beat, for this you can thank the folks at DigiTech for producing the Whammy pedal.  Timmy C's wah-wah bass line smoothes out the song during the verses.  Tom Morello's insane ability to structure riffs around simple progressions of thirds and fifths lends a heavy weight to the choruses.

Think of this more like a call to arms for everyone.  I personally can't relate to the struggles of the average migrant in America.  I can relate to the feeling of struggling for that which seems unattainable.

Everything can change on a new year's day.

Not the holiday, specifically, but tomorrow, or the next day.  Whenever you strike out against a struggle, that's your new year's day.  All it takes is a single breath to effect change.

Next time you're taken to task, will your next breath be the catalyst of change?

Love,
Hoffie

PS - Server issues have prevented me from posting the past two days, so I'm making up for it.  This was to be Monday's song.

Currently, my favorite song to hear when I wake up.

In an earlier Ghost, I noted that Al Green's "Love and Happiness" was my ringtone for  non-related callers bestowed with two X-chromosomes.  Currently, and for the foreseeable future, this is the ringtone which serves that purpose.  As a guy, who is single, it's nice to receive calls or text messages from the females.  Ladies, this song is currently yours.

Check the guitar.  Backed by a simple bass line, the instrument tells its own tale through two double-upstroked guitar chords followed by a snaking lead line.  It's so glimmery and shiny that I feel like putting on some aviators.  Throw in the xylophone lightly backing it; great googly-moogly, we're experiencing quite the twee-gasm.

There's a very 60's-esque quality about the recording itself; with the reverb-drenched rhythm guitar, the plain and effective bass, the xylophone and acoustic guitars hiding in the sheets, and overall dreamy soundscape harken to the hits found on local oldies stations.  There's a reason the ratings for oldies stations are consistently among the top stations in every market.  Hits!

And how about those hand claps in the outro?

There's a very earnest quality to Ramesh Srivastava's tenor.  Not as "thin and breathy" as the voice of his contemporary Ben Gibbard, Srivastava's voice comes through extraordinarily clear, and seems very original. 
The singer sounds like a man baring himself, laying it on the line for the target(s) of his affection.  I am of the opinion that this song is intended for a general target audience, that being women.  Employing "you" in the later verses would make many a listener think that this ditty is directed at a single person.

Look at the statement, "I wanna catch a love and make it stay."  The target of certain lines may be a past love which did not work out, but the overwhelming message from above is "Ladies, Ramesh is on the prowl, and he wants 'forever.'"

Give the poor man a chance, he's bursting at the seams with love to give!  I'm sure he'd sing you songs, maybe even write one about you.  Or include one of your inside jokes in the liner notes.  Or a picture of you, but just in the background.

Love,
Hoffie

The Von Bondies "C'mon C'mon" - Pawn Shoppe Heart

A simple and addictive surf rock-inspired riff.

The thing that is most often overlooked is the buried guitar playing fills in the background.  This is one of my favorite production tricks.  As a fan of el guitado and Mr. Spector's "Wall of Sound," I love it when there's more to the song's guitars than just the rhythm, solo and obvious fills.

With my teeth locked down I can see the blood
Of a thousand men who've come and gone

I can't say for what reason, but I really like these lines.  They just seem cool, and make sense, ya'know?

I love that it's so short.  It gets the job done and does so quickly.  Listen to it a couple of times and expect an earworm in the next day or two.

It's because the whole song repeats itself twice over a catchy riff, kind of like a jingle.  The vocals could be described through music patterning as [A1-B C-B D A2-B C-B D D E].  There's the chorus (D), actually repeated three times.  That's to be expected though.  There's a second part (C), repeated in each verse, that functions more like a pre-chorus than anything else.  The verses each end with the part labeled B.  The coda has different lines, perhaps as a means to stress their importance. 

Since the A1, A2 and C parts are so short and very simliar in vocal patterning, we can essentially eliminate them from the bracket. The song goes from the above (look up between the brackets, then look back here) to [B B D B B D D E].  Throughout the song, there is little variation between the intro riff, the verse and the chorus, all having the same chord progression.  The melodies remain constant as well.  Under this assumption, that the verses and choruses are so similar, the song could become [A A A A A A A B], where A is the B's and D's and, here, B is the coda (E from above).

Deductive logic shows that this song is a jingle.  Repetition of slight variations on a theme beat into your brain that you enjoy it.  Kind of like a Bill Simmons column.  The major difference between this song and the Sports Guy is that I haven't grown tired of it in the past two years.  It's great!

But don't be fooled by the repeated lines of:

Now we grieve cause now is gone
Things were good when we were young

Because the end, the emphasis, is on the following

...a million lies that speak no truth
Of a time gone by that now is through

This song is about looking to the future and fretting not about the past.  What's done is done folks, so C'mon C'mon.

Love,
Hoffie

It's all about me.

Not the song.  This song is obviously about the man who wrote it.  But there are certain truths which we can glean from its words.

I love myself better than you
I know it's wrong so what should I do?

Let's just straighten this out from the get go, there's nothing wrong with a little bit of narcissism.  It's healthy.  After all is said and done, who's going to be there for you in the end?  If a person doesn't hold themself in high esteem, why should anyone else?

There's a vast difference between being cocky and confident; both, though, involve elements of self-love.

A cocky person is one who is narcissistic and cares little for the welfare of others.  Their perspective is skewed to a degree which makes them socially less-acceptable.

The confident person is narcissistic, yet cares greatly for the welfare and feelings of others.  Love of self, yet compassion for others.  Often times, people make the mistake of calling someone cocky due to jealous motives.  There is a typical misunderstanding of the "cocky" person's confidence by persons who have less than stellar self-esteem.

I'm fine with being called either, cocky or confident, for I care little about how I am judged or perceived by persons who do not closely know me.  Nearly all who do know me well would call me confident.  It's true, I love myself, and after this point in the lyric is where Mr. Cobain and I diverge.  Narcissism may have been his downfall, but narcissism keeps me on the path which I need to follow.  It's not wrong.

I'm on a plain, mmmm
I can't complain, mmmm
I'm on a plain, mmmm

It's still my 25th birthday for just a shade over an hour.  For the duration of October 6th, it's all about me.

It's been a damn fine day, with promise left.

I don't even care that you weren't here to enjoy it with me.  But if you were lucky enough to spend time with me today, or any other day, con-grat-u-freakin-lations.

How much of this is how I really feel and how much of it is simply for shock or contemplative value?  I'll leave that to the reader to figure out.

Love,
Hoffie

Better known to many by the title "Teenage Wasteland," this is one of the most often mistaken song titles.

Upon hearing the synthesizer intro, whose ears don't immediately perk up.  It conveys an energy, nay, exuberance which keys the listener into the song, the ridiculous pace of the notes work like body shots from a boxer; a build up to the big one.

Then comes the enormous-sounding piano.  Contrasting with the synthesized sounds, playing deliberate chords on the 1-, 4- and 1-beats.  The drums kick in, and together with the piano lend an amazing power to the 3-chord song.

Roger Daltrey's voice takes hold of the listener, clean and at the forefront.  There's a blue collar feeling to the first verse.  Pete Townshend's simple and effective phrasing adds to the overall power of the recording.

Interestingly, this song doesn't feature a guitar until nearly 40% of its runtime has eclipsed.  The song was written by a man who's known for his guitar!  It's not self-defeating, it's humble.  And it's the mark of a man who cares about his craft, letting the programmed synth take the reigns and drive the sled.

Back, now, to the famous lines, "Don't cry // Don't raise your eye // It's only teenage wasteland."  Daltrey's vocal melody carries the audience to a new plateau.  And sometimes I mist up when I hear it.  I'm not going to lie.  Roger and Pete get together to say, "Hey, it's all gonna be cool, alright.  Forget all that bullshit, it doesn't matter."

Wait, verse two?  It's a love song?  Really?  "Sally, take my hand...//...Let's get together // Before we get much older"   Hey, that sounds like a good idea.  Live for the now!  Wasteland be damned.  And conventioni be damned too!  We'll include a violin solo during the outro!

Yowza!

So, what inspired today's selection?  Twenties are the new teens.  People say kids are growing up so fast, but if that's the case, I'd expect not to see my peers acting ultimately hedonistic.  Acting without consideration for the outcome of their actions, if you will.  In a land devoid of ultimate responsibility, id rules. 

I did stupid shit in high school.  People I know did stupid shit in high school.  That's being young and learning.

People in their early- to mid-20's are doing the same stupid shit, only on a slightly more legal and mature level.  Only slightly though.

Making out furiously in a parking lot, getting wasted on a Tuesday night, spending all your money on shit you don't need (guilty, not guilty, guilty).  Just three examples that I saw on one day this week!  The future of America is doing everything it can to prolong its inevitable need to replace those ahead of us.  I'm guilty of it as well, but I'm really enjoying the ride.

The "teenage wasteland" is no longer just teens!  Twenty-somethings, please embrace your new anthem.

You're all wasted.

Mull that shit over.

Something I didn't know:  This is the title song for CSI: New York.  This kinda pisses me off.
Something else I didn't know: Uber-attractive wakeboarder Shaun Murray's session on Counterfeit This featured this song.  I'm totally okay with this.
Something I did know:  Pearl Jam covers this all the time.  Fucking fun.

Love,
Hoffie

Sublime - "Hope" - 40oz. to Freedom

Here lies Sublime's cover of The Descendents' "Hope."  I am not opposed to lending you a cover.  This is 10,000 Ghosts, and it's going to be 10,000 of my favorite songs (and versions) of all time.

When he starts to lie,
when he makes you cry,
You know I'll be there.
My day will come,
I know someday
I'll be the only one.

Because of the speed and ferocity (unlike the slower tempo of the original) with which the instruments back the vocals, some may miss the message.  It's a desperate plea for a girl to understand that she's hurting herself by pursuing continued relationships with jagoffs and dismissing the lead singer who, through extrapolation, feels that he'd be perfect for her.

The desperation is evident, and though he didn't write the lyrics, Bradley Nowell's interpretation of them comes off both venomous and as a plea for understanding.  There's a sorrow which alludes to the singer's feelings of lonliness without this girl for whom he plainly longs.

After seeming like a lonely, understanding and reasonable gentleman who will wait for the one he truly loves, Bradley's venom spews forth the following lines late in the song:

You say you want perfection,
I see your self destruction.
You don't know what you want,
it's gonna take you a year to find out.

In the end, the singer's conviction shines through, knowing full well that the lover who spurned him will realize in time what exactly she's lost.  That which was lost never was though, as the singer reassures his unrequited love that he understands her need to see if there is anyone better than he.  There isn't.

To all men stuck in the friend zone:  You're retarded.  Just tell them and move onward.  No equal and opposite reaction can come from initial inaction.

Women who have really, really close guy friends:  There's a 99.8% chance that he worships the ground you walk on, but is too scared to tell you.  It's easier to live with the idea of what may be than the prospect of what ne'er will.

We don't control the outcome of the events in our life, but we hold ultimate power over our actions which contribute to the end result of said events.  I never claimed innocence from hypocrisy.

Love,
Hoffie

At The Drive-In "Arcarsenal" - Relationship of Command

Some days, I wake up in a mood.  Often, it's for no particular reason, independent of events from the previous evening or day.

Today was not one of those days.  I had a pretty decent morning, slept in a bit, then went to work.  All in all, it was a pretty good [Tuesday] (I had to look at my calendar).

But listening to this song reminded me of waking up in a mood that can best be described as one of the "punch-babies-and-infants-repeatedly" variety.  Now, I disclaim that I would never do such a thing, and only use this as a common example of general frustration.  I think it's hilarious when someone gets so upset that they can't speak, and it's even funnier if they vent by exclaiming, "I'm so mad I could punch a baby!"

Today's song uses a shaker, toms (drums), angular guitar notes, and breathy-mic sounds which build to a frenzy, culminating in the slamming bass and unrestrained strumming which, when put together, incite a lot of energy in this young man.

I MUST HAVE READ A THOUSAND FACES
I MUST HAVE ROBBED THEM OF THEIR CAUSE...

...BEWARE!
BEWARE!

Ire.  Unrestrained ire.  I now want to punch infants in the face.  But in a happy sort of way.  I need some sort of activity in which to put all my energy.  Punching babies is productive, right?  That's what I heard.

No coincidence, then, that this song is the traditional opener for any and all of Hoffie's mixes which elicited feelings of "Getting Psyched."  Typically these mixes will simply be titled "pscyhe."  Not to be confused with "Psyche!" mixes, which are jokes, full of guilty pleasures and joke tracks. 

Snowboarders...think about hopping on your first lift of the day, approaching the let off, and pressing play to this.
Footballers...in the locker room, on blast, before the game.
Gardeners...on the drive home after you've selected your tulip bulbs for the spring.
Video Gamers...the load screen for your favorite frag-tacular game.
Knowledge Bowlers...just let the home-schooled kid answer all the questions, you can listen to this during the final round and think about whose house you're going to egg this weekend.

What do you do that requires an abundance of energy?  This song fits perfect with a diet of Nutrageous bars, cocktail peps, AM/PM Spicy Jumbo Hot Dogs and Rockstar Energy Drink (or Whoop-Ass if your local retailer carries Jones Soda Co. products).

Lastly, keep this song away from the stereo at all times when hosting a house party.  First, it's irresponsible to play music that doesn't make girls shake their asses like they're auditioning for the background of a Hot Boyz video.  Second, you're likely to have all your shi-ite effed the eff up.  However, if you're at some random party filled with booze-fueled co-eds ignoring the girls on the living room dance floor and reminiscing about "the time when they were playing for their high school's varsity football team...," crank this up and see if the night devolves into chaos.  Again, I would never do nor encourage this, but I can see it happening in whatever movie they're touting to be "this generation's Animal House."

Email me at vicstarsky [at] gmail dot com (I don't know why people write it like that, I'm doing it to be cool like everyone else).  I want to know what you think of the first few days, any suggestions you have for themed weeks, or if I should take directions towards specific mix moments.  And if you're not confused yet, you're not paying attention.  Keep reading, confusion will come.

Love,
Hoffie