A blog about music from my unique perspective (also a spot for some poetry I’ve written) |
A simple music themed blog for Jeff’s "The Soundtrack of Your Life" challenge, and also to dump my thoughts about the 48 Hour Media Challenges when I don’t feel like creating a story or poem from the provided material. I may also add random poetry in here if I feel like it doesn’t qualify for a separate item. |
My eighteenth and final choice is a cover, by Imagine Dragons, of… you'll never guess: Taylor Swift's Blank Space! In 2015 they appeared at the BBC 1 studio to perform her infamous song. I got such a chuckle out of this when I first saw it on YouTube in 2017. I couldn't believe a male band would even think of singing a female song, and lead singer Dan Reynolds didn't do me any favors by keeping the female pronouns: "you're the king, baby I'm your queen!" Blank Space was the first song I ever learned from Taylor Swift, and, being ultra fastidious, I was appalled at her apparent declaration of looseness. I didn't understand she was making a parody out of how others see her. So it bothered me every time I heard it. After watching the Dragons covering it, I felt more comfortable with it and eventually began to appreciate Taylor's expressive voice and sense of humor. And besides, "I can make the bad guys good for a weekend" sounds like a rather intriguing story prompt… It's been at least seven years since I watched this video. When I was recalling it as I compiled my list of six covers for Jeff's "Resurrection Jukebox" challenge, I couldn't remember if Dan sang Taylor's original bridge or not. You know, "boys only want love if it's torture… don't say I didn't warn you!" I couldn't imagine him saying that. Well, he didn't. Instead, the Dragons mashed up the bass melody of Ben E. King's Stand By Me and used those words as the bridge. Delightfully perfect and unexpected. I'd completely forgotten. If you take it seriously, it gives Blank Space an entirely different meaning. Either that, or it's just a band having fun mixing up other people's songs. The young Dan keeps his voice on a natural, even keel with this performance, avoiding the exaggerated yelling type of vocal he uses for his own work. In that regard, I've frequently seen him pressing a finger under his nose as he holds the mic, apparently a technique to recreate his studio sound. And no, his voice is not usually electronically modified unless the result is obviously intended to sound that way (ie, distorted). I know I wondered why he never sings the chorus of Believer live in quite the ferocious way he did on the original. Then he released a video sample showing him bellowing out the original chorus vocals a capella in studio. Yikes. I don't know how he did it, and I don't think he could ever duplicate it. Overall, this "Resurrection Jukebox" project has been a fun challenge for me. I've revisited old favorites, discovered new facts about artists long gone, and added a few tracks to my playlist. It gave me something to take my mind off Hurricane Milton. I hope you enjoyed reading (and listening to) the series as much as I enjoyed putting it together. Words: 503. |
My seventeenth choice is an unmistakable rock classic from the late Stevie Ray Vaughan, Pride and Joy. Released in 1983, it was his debut single, showcasing the unique "Texas blues" guitar style which made him famous. Mom often played this song as I was growing up. I knew very little of what he was saying, but I knew every riff by heart. Once years later, I heard a song in a thrift store somewhere, and I literally recognized the voice of his guitar. I think that was before I started taking copious notes about music, so I don't remember what other song of his it turned out to be that I'd never heard before, but it was indeed a Stevie Ray Vaughan song. It always seemed to me to be more a song about a daughter than a lover, until I learned he was saying "I'm her little lover boy…" Someone on YouTube suggested it refers to his guitar, which I never considered before. That would make sense. I suppose it's more the kind of song where the (decent) lyrics don't matter as much as the sheer talent involved in its composition. The riffs are complex and boisterous, almost rowdy: fun and energetic. I'm not the kind of person who usually dances to music, even my favorites, being more of a "close my eyes and dream" type. I wouldn't consider this a "dancing" sort of song, preferring to move, when I do, to a more well-defined beat and simpler melody. Sometimes, indeed, I dance to a song in my head rather than anything external… which usually means I invent choreography which is vaguely storytelling. Usually I only do that when I'm extremely bored and climbing the walls. Words: 289. |
My sixteenth track is a cover, by OneRepublic, of the 2006 Gnarls Barkley song Crazy. They played it several times over the years; the best one is from the Zermatt Unplugged show in 2011. Here you can see Brent Kutzle on the cello and hear some of Ryan Tedder's unique and mind-blowing melisma, along with an acoustic guitar solo by Zach Filkins. I remember I never paid much attention to the original, until I watched 1R covering it. The one I saw was probably from a TV show, because Ryan was talking about it before he launched into it, and he said how much he wishes he'd written it himself. The lyrics do have that whimsical, mysterious quality of his earliest songwriting; in fact, Ryan loves the phrase "bless your soul" and has used it in his own work for 1R and others. After knowing how much Ryan likes Crazy, it always makes me smile when I hear the original. I also smile because it's the only song I've ever heard from the artist who goes by that funny name, Gnarls Barkley. Having to choose six covers for Jeff's "Resurrection Jukebox" led me back to this piece, which I really hadn't thought about in years. I'm glad I did, because I loved watching the entire Zermatt Unplugged show years ago, added each track to its respective Genius page, and I didn't even know this was part of the performance. Did you catch the lit candles lined up on the piano? Or Ryan's youthful exuberance and high spirits? What fun. Words: 263. |
My fifteenth track is Hold Me Now, from defunct band The Thompson Twins. Released in 1983, it's a "big eighties" song in the best sort of way. I've liked this song from pretty much the first I became aware of it, sometime in 2017. The emotional tone of the lyrics appealed to me, as the narrator deals gently with a confusing relationship. Whenever it crops up it's a bright spot in the creepiness of cheap eighties surface hits which are all one hears in public from the era. When I decided to add it to my offline playlist last April or thereabouts, I designed a special cover art for it (as I did with dozens of my chosen tracks) using my favorite generative AI app, Wombo Dream. I prompted the AI with the words "vintage retro eighties style filter photo of a teenage boy and girl happy memories" and it gave me an image of twins It looks exactly like the opening words of the song. At the bottom I'll include the screenshot of my media player. The more I listen to Hold Me Now with increasingly better sound quality, the more I appreciate it. I love the slowly measured "bells and whistles" production, and the backing vocals which come in at the end to balance the gaps in the chorus. In order to write knowledgeably about the song, I read the Wikipedia page for The Thompson Twins, which I thought for sure I had looked at several times over the years. I was surprised to find the "real story" of the band: how they derived their name from The Adventures of Tintin, and how they changed it to Babble in the nineties to reflect a shift in musical style to something called "dub-influenced chill out…" don't ask me. I had no idea. Now that I do know the band's backstory, it makes the song more meaningful. I'm glad I chose to do this project, because I honestly thought The Thompson Twins was something like a brother and sister duo, similar to the image I created for the cover art Words: 368. |
My fourteenth track is from the late Tom Petty, released in 1989. Running Down a Dream has been a favorite of mine for a while. I remember when Mom would play it when I was a kid and I thought it was saying "right down the drain…" The lines about "working on a mystery" always excited me, like it was a song from a movie or something. Finding it was from Tom Petty (during my musical "coming of age") seemed perfectly natural, because I'd known it already for so long. It's a good song to put on as you're driving, because the lyrics are about chasing the dream, adventure seeking, and quite literally driving down the highway enjoying life. The intricacies of the melody are fun to get lost in, and the beat is surprisingly rapid. I found the Wikipedia description of the song's composition to be enlightening, as much as is possible for me, lacking musical training. It embarrasses me sometimes, that I love to write about music yet I have no real understanding of music theory. I describe songs as best I can, having picked up the vocabulary from reading countless professional critiques and artist interviews, and I take it all with obsessive seriousness. Sometimes I wonder if I should become a musician. If I did, I'd be starting pretty late in a highly competitive field. My chances of being even a fraction as successful as the artists I admire are slim to none. If I did learn an instrument, it would be merely for my own personal enjoyment or perhaps to create something for a YouTube channel… Anyway, here's a classic for you Words: 281. |
My thirteenth track is another CCR, as a defunct band. I had a hard time deciding between this one and Looking Out My Back Door, as I have fond memories of and enjoy them both, but I settled on Down on the Corner, which was released in 1969 on their album Willie and the Poor Boys. It tells a folksy tale of a family street band… now that I think of it, John Fogarty may have been inspired by the old song "Johnny Morgan played the organ." Reading the Wikipedia page, I see he rather got the idea from Winnie the Pooh, which he declared to be his favorite character. Hey, Pooh Bear is mine as well Mom played it often, and it became part of my childhood in Tennessee. I enjoyed it, despite not knowing most of the lyrics. As an adult, I find it to be the kind of song where the words don't matter so much as the music. I love getting lost in the flow of the melody. Down on the Corner became such an instantly recognizable American classic, that Walgreens sampled the music for a series of radio commercials they ran in 2012 or so, much to my youthful delight. It tied into their slogan: "on the corner of happy and healthy." The comments under the YouTube audio I chose are amusing… one person said "I'm thirty years old, a native English speaker, and I can only understand about thirty percent of the lyrics." I thought I was the only person who had no idea what John's saying. Another person remarked, "Walgreens ruined this song." Honestly, I didn't think anyone else noticed or remembered they used it. What can I say? It's a favorite of mine. Enjoy Words: 304. |
My twelfth track is a cover from… guess who… yes, Imagine Dragons. Though ID has never officially released any covers, they've done quite a few live ones, as probably most big bands have over the years. 500 Miles (I'm Gonna Be) is originally by the Scottish duo The Proclaimers, from 1988. I remember hearing the original and looking it up somewhere between 2015 and 2017, and being mildly impressed by the lyrics. Then later on YouTube I watched ID playing it at a live show in Scotland, and because of ID it became a song I grew fond of. I think it was ID's first ever Scottish show, or their first time at the one called T in the Park, in 2014, because lead singer Dan Reynolds spoke about how grateful he was to be there and how he'd never imagined he would be so successful in his career as a musician. The Dragons handled all parts of 500 Miles quite well, from Dan's imitation of the Scottish accent and the "tra-la-la," to the beats and guitars. I've added their cover to my offline playlist, though sometimes I wonder if it wouldn't make more sense to go with the original and cut the ad-libs. But I think I smile more with this cover. Dan and his bandmates and the crowd all really poured their hearts into it. At the time Dan had not yet publicized his diagnosis of Ankylosing Spondylitis; he was most likely in rather a lot of pain here. But you'd never know. Words: 260. |
My eleventh track is from a defunct band, Love Power by one-hit wonders The Sandpebbles. Released in 1967, it became their only notable Billboard chart before they faded into oblivion. Mom played this song for years, and occasionally still does. I never particularly cared for it myself. She told me how she used to say that someone should cover it and bring it back into the spotlight. Eventually Luther Vandross did, mashing it up with Power of Love in 1991, and she was like "see? I knew it would be a hit." The theme is one of holding your head high because even if you're poor, you still have love, and that's a powerful thing. I like knowing it exists, simply because few people do. I never thought of adding it to my own playlist until now, though. It never really meant that much to me. I've squirrelled around on YouTube and found a good clear mono copy of it; the only stereo (binaural) is an extended remake someone made, and I don't like how they messed with the drumroll, pacing and backing vocals. As I've given it a proper listen, I find it's well produced, with intriguing rhythms and good all-around talent. It's a classic bit of 60's soul. Words: 214. |
My tenth track is an old favorite from the late Johnny Cash. Originally released in 1956 I Walk the Line has been recorded several times, and a remastered version direct from the vintage Sun Studios label is available on YouTube, along with several live performance videos and movie cuts. This is one of the only Johnny Cash songs I enjoy. I generally find him to be a dreary lyricist, who wrote and sang dusty Americana style ballads about gritty subjects I'd rather not think of. His voice is a distinctive deeper one, which I do admire. The first time I ever heard I Walk the Line was kind of funny. Does anyone remember the days when Walmart would have a "jukebox" somewhere around the candle section? It was a display of CDs with "atmospheric" music, and there would be a soundbox with buttons you push to hear samples of each CD. They took those out a long time ago. One day when I was a kid, Mom and I were looking at the selection of music. She pushed one button, and the soulful words of I Walk the Line came out. I found the pretty green cover of an Irish CD more interesting, and pushed that button, expecting to hear a Celtic instrumental. Instead, I Walk the Line was interrupted by a beer flavored bar doggerel belting out, much to Mom's dismay. Afterwards, she fetched I Walk the Line on the computer, and it became an instant classic in my book, with simple words sung in a comprehensible way. It was one of the only songs I memorized and wrote down the lyrics to, in the same notebook where I kept all my favorite poetry I'd gathered over the years. When Mom and I read about Johnny Cash's personal life, she said it was bad for him to have divorced his first wife (who he wrote the song for) to marry June Carter. I wasn't sure if I should pass judgment on him, because he seemed to be very happy with his second wife and stayed with her for the rest of his life. I asked myself if maybe sometimes a person could marry the "wrong" spouse and then find the one they were "meant" to have, and would it be such a bad thing to let the first one go if they felt they were better suited for the second one? But a person might do that over and over again, and be mistaken every time, or find someone else they feel is "just right…" Hold on while I overthink this… At any rate, I Walk the Line is a song no one can argue with. While reading the Wikipedia page on it, I learned about the "chicka chicka boom boom" phenomenon. I'd never given any thought to the goofy phrase; indeed, I couldn't have told you where I heard it before (a brand of popcorn, maybe?) I remember when we watched a live TV performance from the 50's, the backing bass note was carried by a double bass (a giant standing violin) alongside Johnny. I did not know about the paper folded into his guitar to produce the other sound, which I now recognize as the onomatopoeic equivalent of that phrase. Becoming aware of key shifts and why he hums through the song makes me listen to I Walk the Line more carefully, even though I know nothing substantial about music theory. This is a classic song I'm happy to have on my playlist. Words: 604. |
My ninth track is a cover: I Heard It Through the Grapevine, by Creedence Clearwater Revival. Released in 1970 after having become a stage song of theirs, it features an extended jam session and John Fogarty's unique vocals. I only know about this through my mom, who became enamored of it at some point during the pandemic (alongside Creeque Alley) and declared it far better than the more well-known and popular Marvin Gaye version. I didn't really think much of the rather pathetic theme in those days. As I built my own playlist later on, however, I added it as part of my CCR collection. Once I put on my good earbuds, I knew what Mom was so impressed with: the eerie, Voodoo-esque drums, combined with John's anguished voice, definitely hits differently from anything else I've ever heard. It becomes almost hypnotic. The funny thing is, neither of us listened to the full eleven-minute version. It was always the just-under-four-minute mono version, and that's what I have saved on my old phone. To write a proper blog post, I sat down this evening and played the "real thing." I don't think I've ever listened to an oldies band jamming together before, certainly not with proper binaural sound. (Dolby Atmos on my budget Galaxy, YouTube, with a $5 pair of truly wireless earbuds. It doesn't take much to have good audio quality these days.) Wow. What an experience. I haven't the faintest understanding of the music theory behind the improvised composite sound, but I know it's the kind of thing I could indulge my sensory sensitivities in, with layers of John's guitar, Clifford's drums, and goodness knows who on bass, all working in amazing synchronicity. It's easy to tell the band members were "in the zone" when they recorded this. In the comments below the full version, people were chiming in with praise and memories: some trite, speaking about where they were when it hit them hardest; some more intellectual, marveling at the sheer skill of John's guitar licks and how much of a bond the band must have had to be able to improvise so well. I'm glad I got a chance to experience CCR's complete I Heard It Through the Grapevine tonight—on the edge of a hurricane, no less, as I'm preparing these posts ahead of time. Words: 394. |