Friday, August 7, 2026

XTC - The Man Who Sailed Around His Soul


Todd Bernhardt: Let's talk about "The Man Who Sailed Around His Soul."

Andy Partridge: Oh, I am so proud of this song. These are my best lyrics, I think.

TB: Really?

AP: This week's best lyrics, anyway. [chuckles] No, honestly, these are in the top three, possibly number one, lyric-wise.

TB: So let's start by talking about them. On the demo of the song, you don't yet have all the lyrics.

AP: No! In fact, when Mr. Rundgren said, "I want to hear everything," the state of the demo -- which is the one you hear on the Fuzzy Warbles series -- was more of an idea than anything else. The demo is so unformed -- it's just this rather Can-like rhythm in 7/4, and me strumming a badly recorded acoustic guitar and mumbling these lyrics.
It was really him pulling it out and saying, "Yeah, I like this, I think it's going to be track 12 -- have you finished the lyrics up?" "I thought, "Whoa, I better finish these up!" A deadline is really good for me -- I have no deadlines these days, which is part of why I'm stuck in the wilderness, I think -- and knowing that I rather liked the melody and chords spurred me on.
Speaking of the chords and melody -- about a couple of years after we recorded it, I got to hear "Nature Boy." There is a similar feel in the melody. I probably heard that as a kid, on the radio, and it must have gone in. But at the time, I didn't own any Nat King Cole records, and I certainly wasn't consciously aware of it at the time.

TB: Yeah, that song was a huge hit for him.

AP: I'm not sure if it was a huge hit for him in the UK -- I could be wrong. We never had any of his records, but they did play him on the radio a lot when I was a little kid. So, I think it went in when I was very young, and it was that thing where you think you've invented this chord shape and this melody shape, when after all it's not a million miles away from something you probably would have heard hundreds of times as a child.

TB: But that's true of most music that anyone creates, right? Isn't it all some form of something that you soaked in earlier in your life?

AP: Yeah, absolutely. You're either mangling it up on purpose, to get some further juice out of it, or you're smashing together lots of different things -- you know, you're making these songs mate. "I'm going to take a bit of that Beatles song, and a bit of that song by Frank Sinatra, and a bit of that Captain Beefheart one, and I'm going to force them to have sex, until the obscene abomination is born."

TB: [laughing] Then you release their mutant spawn upon the world!

AP: Yes, that evil spawn that leaves a trail of fluorescent snot everywhere it goes! So, sometimes you do that on purpose, but sometimes it's by accident. You know, so many times in the past I've thought, "Wow, this is going to be great -- this song's wonderful! Oh no! I'm writing 'Hey Jude'!" Sometimes you catch yourself. But with this one, it wasn't until a few years later, when I got to hear "Nature Boy" -- I think it was on a TV documentary or something -- that I thought, "Wow, hang on a minute! That's not too far away!"

But, I did have to finish the lyric up, and I think it kind of goes hand-in-hand with the "Dear God" lyric. At that time, I must have been looking for deeper things.

TB: It seems as if you're rejecting conventional wisdom...

AP: Yeah. It's looking for the deeper meaning. Quite a few lyrics are like that on this album -- "Season Cycle" is another one.

TB: Although, in "Season Cycle," it seems as if you've found the meaning. You're saying it's all right here.

AP: I'm in the process of finding it, I think. Which is why the "Man Who Sailed Around His Soul" lyrics are the way they are, and the others are the way they are. You're showing people that you have found it, in a questioning song, if you see what I mean. You're doing your own interview -- asking yourself the question in the interview, and answering it. So, it must have been a time in my life when I was trying to find the answers to everything. But I'm really proud of this lyric -- I think I tapped into something good.

TB: Let's talk about where you were in life, because The Big Express had not done very well, but you did have the first Dukes album out, and that had done well.

AP: Yeah, The Big Express had sold about 30,000 in England, while 25 O'Clock had sold something like 90,000! [laughs] It just goes to show that people like nonsense!

TB: And you'd been given an ultimatum by Virgin, which is why Todd was your producer on the album?

AP: Oh, absolutely. That was a very low time my life. I'd been told, basically, to stop interfering with my own records. They were telling me to, "Let Colin" -- let the handsome one, the one with the hair, who doesn't wear glasses -- "let him do more of his sweet songs, and you shut up and don't interfere. You need to have a big hit in America, and so you've got to have an American producer. You mustn't argue with him, and you mustn't try to fuck up your songs by putting in interesting shit! Because if you don't, you're off the label."

TB: So, this feeling must have informed the lyrical content of the album.

AP: Maybe the fear of losing the label made me dig deeper. I was certainly at that point in my life where I was starting to question everything, and finding my own answers. So, the lyrics to "Man Who Sailed Around His Soul" are really of me saying, "There is nothing more -- you die, and you're wormcake." It's sort of an existential idea of, "You're haunting yourself." It's tricky to describe, really. [Cockney accent, aggressively] "It's all in the lyrics! It's self-evident, really." [laughs] That's a bit of an interview killer, isn't it?

TB: [laughing] In a way, though, it's true! The lyrics are very well constructed, and the meaning is pretty damned clear.

AP: I was proud of all the internal rhymes -- the tension and release of the internal rhythm and internal rhyme. But as for the meaning, you're right -- it's all laid out. For anyone who doesn't get it, it's the story of somebody who realizes that all there is to life is your body, with your brain in it.

TB: Hence the resolution at the end: "Now he sits all alone / Knowing flesh blood and bone / Is everything / He found the treasure he'd been seeking."

AP: The treasure you're seeking is yourself, and your own experiences and knowledge. And what you do with that -- that's the treasure. It's not a matter of, "Well, I'll be a complete asshole all my life, and then repent on my deathbed -- because God loves a sinner who repents -- and then I'll go and live for all eternity getting sucked off by angels!" It's not going to work like that. I hope that more and more people are starting to realize that that's not going to be the case.
It's my kitchen existentialism [chuckles] -- which has just been completed with a nice sunroof! There is nothing more than your blood and guts and bone, and when you die, that's all gone. So make the most.

TB: So, let's talk about the music. You had sent over this demo -- it's acoustic guitar and percussion...

AP: And he said, "Yeah, I really want to do this song." He wanted me to finish up the song, so I came up with the rest of the lyric and the other parts of the song, but I don't remember rehearsing it before we left for Woodstock. The only time I remember running through it is when we were left for about a week on our own, in this freezing-cold shed that was Utopia Sound Studios, running through all the numbers before Mr. Rundgren came off of his holidays, or whatever it was he was doing -- he wasn't around, and we were rehearsing ourselves for about four or five days. We were just sat around in a little circle -- "Oh yeah, it's this chord, or that chord, and try it like that" -- you know. We were knocking stuff up between us.
When he came in and we got recording proper, he said to me, "How do you see this? How do you want to do it?" I had in my head that I really wanted to out-do "Mack the Knife" -- the Bobby Darin version.

TB: What turned you from your relatively straight-ahead acoustic treatment of this?

AP: Because it was "The Man Who...", it sounded like a spy film title to me. So I thought, "It'd be great to do sort of a John Barry secret-agent soundtrack thing." I didn't know how to do that, of course. But I was proud of this existential lyric with this kind of Beatnik angle, so if we could do Beatnik/coffeehouse/spy music, that what's needed! That's going to cover all the requirements here.
So, we decided we were going to get Colin playing the Epiphone Newport with the damaged damper on, so it sounded like an upright bass, and we did finger clicks -- which is Colin. We all had to audition our fingers, and he had the loudest click. "Jump to a finger click," as he says in "King for a Day"! Dave and I failed miserably, and I think Todd did, too, but Colin excels at clicking, so we sampled some Colin clicks, and they're played in from a Fairlight, which Todd had just bought, so he was pretty Fairlight-mad at the time.

So, Colin's playing this [imitates Colin's intro bass part, while clicking his fingers] -- and you can just imagine Sammy Davis Jr. kicking in, can't you?

TB: Oh yeah, sure!

AP: Another song I wanted to hint at was "It Ain't Necessarily So." You can see where I'm coming from on that. So, there's this whole mash-up of stuff I was thinking of, and I said to Todd, "Ideally, make it like a Beatnik existential spy movie soundtrack. Can such a thing be done?" And literally, he went away overnight and came back with charts for this stuff. I don't read music, but he had these ideas mapped out. He said, "Look, this'll be flutes, and this'll be horns, and we'll get a high string line here" -- because I'd said, "Oh yeah, I want that Gershwin, Blues-y feeling." "Dear God" got that treatment, too, so that must have been in our heads at the time.
He did a fantastic job. I think the arrangement on this is immaculate. I think that was his strength -- it's not engineering, and it's certainly not people skills, but as an arranger, he's completely faultless, and he did a brilliant job of making this Beatnik spy music.

TB: Talk a little bit about the chronology of how this song was recorded. The album was done in both Woodstock and San Francisco...

AP: Do you know, I can't remember doing much of this song in Woodstock.

TB: That's what I wanted to ask -- did you do anything with this song before you went to San Francisco? Because there's so much orchestration.

AP: I don't think we did! We probably just booked the tape space with a click track or something. I remember 90 percent of it happening in San Francisco.

TB: Prairie wasn't just playing with a click -- he must have been playing with something else, right?

AP: We may have put the bass on in Woodstock -- certainly we did the finger clicks! [laughs] I remember that. But everything else, I think, was done in San Francisco. Todd got Mingo Lewis to do the bongos on this...

TB: Which is fantastic stuff.

AP: It's great, yeah. But he couldn't play shit until he got stoned, though. He was so nervous! I thought, "Oh god, are we making this fellow feel bad, or is he just exceptionally nervous when he gets in the studio?" But then he got himself stoned, enough to stop a rhino, and suddenly he was fantastic!

TB: I guess everyone has their own way of getting comfortable in the studio...

AP: He probably had enough dope to put the island of Jamaica asleep for the evening, but he was fantastic. And then there's Prairie showing off his Jazz chops...

TB: The drumming on this is incredible.

AP: Yeah, it's great -- lots of punctuation. That Big Band kind of thing.

And, listening today, I was reminded about how good the bass playing was, though it could have done with a little more of the Latin push, I think. Colin's very melodic, but he also puts all of the downbeats on the downbeat, whereas with the Latin bass it's more on the "ah-one" -- it's always pushing the beat a bit.

And Dave plays some great piano!

TB: Absolutely. He also does that low, spy-movie guitar, right?

AP: Right, which we did at Woodstock, after we got back from San Francisco. I said, "Look, we need a little more John Barry in there," and of course Dave came through with this great ersatz Bond guitar. But, for a man who says he's not a piano player, his piano playing is perfect on this! Just the right chords, just the right choice of inversions -- everything.

TB: And his sense of rhythm is perfect on this, too -- the way he punctuates against the horns, and all that.

AP: Oh yeah -- he's got a pretty good sense of rhythm. Always has.

TB: Was the piano done in San Francisco, or later on in Woodstock?

AP: You're really testing my brain on this one -- do you know, I cannot remember. I know Todd had a piano at Woodstock -- it was a big grand -- but I think there must have been a piano at San Francisco as well.

But I'm not playing on this. I'm just singing on this -- I'm doing nothing on the track other than that.

TB: What about the whistling in the song? Is that you?

AP: If there's any whistling, then it's usually me. I'm a bit of a whistle-aholic. In fact, Erica calls me "the whistler," because I'm whistling all the time at home.

TB: That's a sign of happiness!

AP: Or missing teeth. [laughs]

TB: [laughing] You had horn players and string players as well. They all played by themselves, I presume?

AP: Yep -- we did them all in session. We did all the horn parts one afternoon, then all the string parts another afternoon. All of this in San Francisco. And then the flute player came in -- there are multiple parts, but it's one flute player tracked up.
But the arrangement is so good -- it's got just the right sting at the end. It's just what I wanted. I wanted to beat "Mack the Knife" -- because, I mean, look at the pedigree of that song -- it's Brecht and Weill who did the music and lyrics, and that Bobby Darin version -- I loved that as a kid. That was on the radio a hell of a lot. I think I secretly wanted to feel as if I'd beaten out "Mack the Knife."
You've got to feel that you've beaten your influences. You've got to feel that you've beaten your heroes. You have to -- you have to kill them all, and stand on a giant heap of all your influences. They've all got to be dead, because you've written better things than them -- you know, you make a mountain formed of John Lennons, Paul McCartneys, Brian Wilsons, Brecht and Weill [laughs]. "You shall know them by their dead."

TB: Do you feel like you've done that, at least with this song?

AP: For me, I felt as if I had, but no other bastard bought the damn thing, because I didn't have Bobby Darin's charm -- or wig! [laughs]

TB: Well, the album sold pretty well, so some people must have thought you succeeded!

AP: Yeah, that album actually did save our career. Virgin didn't drop us -- phew.

TB: And you guys became college-chart darlings after that, for Skylarking through Nonsuch.

AP: Yeah, that's true. They couldn't scrape us off those charts. So, maybe I should have shut up and let other producers produce me! But the irony of it is that Todd was not like any other producer we've ever had, because he allowed us to be completely English. He did not Americanize us -- if anything, he took the Americanism out of us, because he was a big Anglophile.

TB: Yeah, when I was talking to him, last time they toured in this area, he was saying he was a big fan of you guys.

AP: Yeah, he was -- he had all our albums. Probably had them twice -- I think I saw them in his San Francisco house as well as his house in Woodstock. But, even so, I was instructed to shut up and be produced -- "You need a hit in America, so you've got to have an American producer, and you've got to obey" -- and weirdly, Todd allowed us to be as English as we wanted to be. He just allowed us to be the Dukes of Stratosphear, basically. Skylarking is the great missing Dukes album. 

From: http://chalkhills.org/articles/XTCFans20100104.html



Mary Fahl - The Great Valerio (Richard & Linda Thompson cover)


When Mary Fahl fronted the October Project, she was the force behind the band. According to her contract, she was not allowed to write music or do anything besides singing. With these limitations, she used her hands to convey the power of the songs like an operatic diva. After the band broke up, she had to do things independently, including playing the guitar and writing songs. It is great to see such self-reliance, but I think she is at her most arresting when she sings, using her body language to amplify the heart and soul of the song. The Great Valerio is the first official music video from Can’t Get It Out Of My Head, the just-released album of her favorite songs. I had no idea she likes ELO, and this is a great surprise. 
So what’s the story behind her decision to cover this song? Here’s a little info: Directed and edited by Lisa Hancock, Mary Fahl reimagines this personal favorite by one of her greatest inspirations, Richard and Linda Thompson. She brings “The Great Valerio” to life utilizing archived footage of a tightrope walker to put a face to the name of this fictitious character made famous from the original recording off the album “I Want to See Bright Lights Tonight” originally released in 1974. Mary stays true to the beauty of the original recording while transforming this beloved cover into her own version with soaring chamberpop vocals and a unique, haunting arrangement.  From: https://spheremusic.wordpress.com/2022/08/06/mary-fahl-is-at-her-most-theatrical-with-the-great-valerio-official-music-video/


The Moody Blues - The Land of Make-Believe


For me, The Land of Make-Believe is one of the songs—maybe THE Moody Blues song—that I’m pretty sure I love way more than everyone else does. I think what elevated it to that level is when I realized the song structure.
A: we’re living in…
B: heartaches…
A: we’re breathing in...
B: Our prayer will be heard…
C: So fly little bird…
D: Whyyyyyy
E: Open all the shutters…
F: Oh say it’s true…
Repeat.
Justin was in such mastery of his songcraft that he wrote SIX achingly beautiful, song-worthy melodies for this one, sub-5 minute song. Plus the excellent band contributions, fuzz guitar, and flawless production… I love it to bits.
From: https://www.reddit.com/r/MoodyBlues/comments/1qtwzbf/daily_randomized_song_discussion_64_the_land_of/

Despite the presence of a pair of ballads -- one of them ("New Horizons") by Justin Hayward the latter's most romantic number since "Nights in White Satin" -- Seventh Sojourn was notable at the time of its release for showing the hardest-rocking sound this band had ever produced on record. It's all relative, of course, compared to their prior work, but the music is comparatively stripped down here, and on a lot of it Graeme Edge's drumming and John Lodge's bass work comprise a more forceful and assertive rhythm section than they had on earlier records, on numbers such as "Lost in a Lost World," "You and Me," and "I'm Just a Singer (In a Rock & Roll Band)." The latter, authored by Lodge, was -- along with Lodge's "Isn't Life Strange" -- one of two AM radio hits that helped drive the sales of this album, issued in early November of 1972, past all previous levels. Indeed, it was with the release of this album that the Moodies achieved their great commercial success in America and around the world, with a "Grand Tour" that kept them on the road for much of the year that followed. The irony was that it was all about to end for them, for years to come, and the signs of it were all over this record -- Seventh Sojourn took a long time to record, and a lot of the early work on it had to be junked ("Isn't Life Strange" was one of the few early songs to get completed); it was clear to all concerned except the fans that, after six years of hard work in their present configuration, they all needed to stop working with each other for a time, and this was clear in the songs -- many have a downbeat, pensive edge to them, and if they reflected a questioning attitude that had come out on recent albums, the tone of the questioning on songs like "Lost in a Lost World," "You and Me," and "When You're a Free Man" had a darker, more desperate tone. Perhaps the group's mostly youthful, collegiate audience didn't notice at the time because it fit the mood of the times -- the album hit the stores in America the day before Richard Nixon's landslide presidential re-election victory (the culmination of events behind the scenes that would subsequently drive him from office). But the members were not working well together, and this would be the last wholly successful record -- difficult as it was to deliver -- that this lineup of the band would record, as well as the last new work by the group for over five years. And oddly enough, even amid the difficulties in getting it finished, Seventh Sojourn would offer something new in the way of sounds from the group -- Michael Pinder, in particular, introduced a successor to the Mellotron, with which he'd been amazing audiences for six years, in the form of the Chamberlin, which is all over this album.  From: https://www.allmusic.com/album/seventh-sojourn-mw0000191080#review   



Morcheeba - Everybody Loves A Loser / World Looking In


 Morcheeba - Everybody Loves A Loser
 

 Morcheeba - World Looking In
 
This is a tale of cunning, of unscrupulousness. It is the story of a three-piece band called Morcheeba, which is appearing Friday at Metro. Morcheeba was once a wholly unknown outfit, just another collection of wannabe pop stars laying siege to the record industry but unable to conquer the affections of the A&R people lounging lazily beyond its corporate gates.
But then Morcheeba — brothers Ross and Paul Godfrey, and singer Skye Edwards — had an idea. Like the Greeks, who built that monster wooden horse to conquer Troy, the three would build an elaborate vessel with which to cloak themselves.
So in 1995, Morcheeba set about whittling the image of a group that looked like a trip-hop band. The trio piled inside their trip-hop horse and wheeled themselves up to those unyielding corporate walls. Hoodwinked, the A&R people gleefully pulled the offering inside the industry gates.
“We fooled a lot of people. Really, it was just a Machiavellian way of trying to get a deal and trying to get the press on our side,” says the younger brother, Ross Godfrey. “We were fully aware of what we were doing. We got the attention, and the songs were good enough to transcend any genre kind of thing. Now we’ve just jumped off the bandwagon and started doing whatever we like.”
The strategy has worked. Though the band’s first album, “Who Can You Trust?” was dreamy and pointless (all part of the trip-hop guise, they say), it propelled the group to music’s inner circle just one year after its birth in the seaside town of Hythe, England. Musical revolutionaries to the bone, the three then looked to affect change from within.
The result is Morcheeba’s sophomore album, “Big Calm.” Much less trip-hop — a blend of hip-hop beats with atmospheric rhythms — “Big Calm” is more a work of modern-beat folk, a blend of blues and hip-hop with a Cat Stevens, Crosby Stills and Nash edge.
The name Morcheeba is a combination of “M.O.R” (an acronym for Middle of the Road, a description the band reserves for what it thinks are mediocre talents) and “cheeba” (slang for marijuana). That the band came up with it in the first place was all part of the diabolical plan to deceive the record industry.
“We had about 15 different names that we were putting on the tapes that we were giving out to different record companies so that if they chatted amongst themselves they wouldn’t pick up on the fact that they were talking about the same band,” says Godfrey. “There were loads of others. The Montana Country Band was a great one, because it used to really confuse English A&R people.”
It’s no doubt that Morcheeba has been wise every step of the way so far. Glomming onto the trip-hop and electronica frenzy in ’95 was smart. And jumping off in ’98, just as it is becoming apparent that electronica may not be the musical panacea the critics thought it would be, is even smarter.
“It’s a very confusing time at the moment. No one really knows what’s going on,” says Godfrey.”That’s why we’re moving in our own direction, rather than follow anyone else’s.”
Indeed, “Big Calm” is the metaphoric antidote for a rave scene, which may finally be coming down from its media-fueled, chemically induced high. “Big Calm” is the music you put on after the rave hat is stowed in the hall closet, after the high-pitched wail in the eardrums becomes tolerable.
The track “Part of the Process” is country fiddle and bass. “Friction” is funky reggae with trumpet and trombone. The beginning of “Fear and Love” could appear in a Henry Mancini soundtrack.
“The thing is, we’re the first generation of kids to have cool parents,” says Godfrey. “My mum used to go see Jimi Hendrix and the Rolling Stones. There’s no way I can rebel against that. You can’t get more outrageous than Keith Richards was in the ’60s. You have to submit to the fact that everything’s already been done, so we might as well carry on, enjoying it and mixing it up with different ingredients.”
Morcheeba’s first single was the semi-hit “Trigger Hippie,” which is on the band’s first album. That stirred interest in the group from David Byrne, who had the brothers co-produce nine songs on his latest solo album, “Feelings.” To date, personalities as diverse as Madonna, Ozzy Osbourne and George Michael have rung up Morcheeba, expressing interest in collaborating and professing affection for the group’s groove.  From: https://www.chicagotribune.com/1998/04/24/morcheeba-the-band-that-faked-being-trip-hop/
 
 


Lyle Lovett - If I Had A Boat


Since I have been going over Texas Songwriters…I have saved Lovett for a while. I knew of him because his name is huge where I live and I’ve seen him on different shows throughout my life. So I started to listen to some of his music recently with high anticipation and was not disappointed.
The thing about these songwriters I like so much are the lyrics. What surprised me were the lovely melodies that sold those lyrics to listeners. You can write the best set of lyrics in the world but without a good melody they will just stay just lyrics.
He was born in the German farming community of Klein, Texas and was influenced by blues and country greats such as Ray Charles, Hank Williams, Willie Nelson, and more. His music has a little bit of everything in it.  Western, folk, swing, jazz, bebop, blues, and gospel music. Lovett earned two degrees from Texas A&M University in Journalism and German, and music was his career of choice. One of his roommates in college was no other than fellow Texas songwriter Robert Earl Keen.
Lovett said that If I Had A Boat was based on a true story. He did try to cross a pond on a pony but he wished he had a boat when it happened. This song was about getting away from things and not being tied down. This song was released in 1987 on the album Pontiac. The song peaked at #66 on the Billboard Country Charts. The album peaked at #12 on the Billboard Country Album Charts, #18 in Canada,  and #117 on the Billboard Album Charts.
He was asked if him and Robert Earl Keen were trying to carry on with the tradition that Townes Van Zandt and Guy Clark started. He answered: There’s a direct line from those guys to Robert and me. We learned how to play those Guy Clark songs from Guy’s first record, and we sought out Guy and Townes as we came up, because we admired them so much, and got to know them. So their version of storytelling, their take on what a song was supposed to be, was something that Robert and I actively pursued.
On what Texas is to him: Texas is just home. I’m tethered here and lack perspective. My whole experience, every day in my life, is wrapped up in being from here. I’m what in the horse business we call barn blind. I really like my horses better than anybody else’s.
Lyle Lovett: Somehow you can tell the difference when a song is written just to get on the radio and when what someone does is their whole life. That comes through in Bob Dylan, Paul Simon, Willie Nelson. There is no separating their life from their music.  From: https://powerpop.blog/2024/04/27/lyle-lovett-if-i-had-a-boat/

 

Juliana Hatfield - I See You


Juliana Hatfield achieved alterna-rock stardom with the release of 1993's Become What You Are (recorded under the group name The Juliana Hatfield Three). Several songs from the album received regular airplay on major North American rock stations, with Hatfield's song "My Sister" becoming the biggest hit of her career with the video becoming an MTV staple. Another one of her songs ("Spin the Bottle") was used in the soundtrack of the Hollywood film Reality Bites (1994). Hatfield also made the cover of Spin magazine. Hatfield's popularity coincided with the success, in the mid-1990s, of many other female musicians (such as Liz Phair, PJ Harvey, Belly, Letters to Cleo, Velocity Girl, The Breeders, Hole, Veruca Salt, Poe, Throwing Muses, Magnapop, Bettie Serveert). Although she has always maintained that her gender is of only incidental importance to her music, Hatfield was pleased to have been invited, in 1997, to tour with the first Lilith Fair, a prominent all-female rock festival founded by singer Sarah McLachlan. Hatfield was profiled in a number of girls' magazines at this time and was embraced by many pre-teen and teenage girls as a role model due to the positive way she addressed serious issues faced by young women in her songs and interviews. About this period she says: "I was never comfortable with the attention. I thought it had come too soon. I hadn’t earned it yet." She gained notoriety in 1992 for saying that she was still a virgin in her mid-twenties in Interview magazine. In a 1994 interview for the magazine Vox she said she was surprised by the effect 'outing' herself had: "I think there are a lot of people out there who don't care about sex, but who you never hear from, so I thought I should say it. The magazine I did the interview for is full of beef-cake hunky guys and scantily-clad models, so I thought it would be really funny to say that I didn't care about sex in a magazine that's full of sex and beauty - but no one really got the joke."  From: https://www.reddit.com/r/Music/comments/78r7js/juliana_hatfield_i_see_you_90s_alternative/ 


 

Love - My Little Red Book / You Set The Scene / Your Mind and We Belong Together


 Love - My Little Red Book
 

Love - You Set The Scene
 

 Love - Your Mind and We Belong Together
 
Arthur Lee is no Dionne Warwick, which makes it all the more surprising that Love's first single was written by Burt Bacharach and Hal David. "My Little Red Book," first performed by Manfred Mann in a London discotheque scene in the film What's New Pussycat?, was originally almost a ballad, the somewhat self-pitying tale of a playboy brought to grief by unexpected romantic yearning. (It's no surprise that Woody Allen reportedly originally wrote the lead role in the film for notorious horndog Warren Beatty.) Manfred Mann's version, the one used as a template by Perry Como and other middle-of-the-road crooners, is a typically Bacharach-like piece of jazz-tinged sophistication. For Love's remake, which became a garage band classic for the ages, Lee and lead guitarist Johnny Echols simplified the chord sequence into a primeval garage band unison riff that they blasted out over a stomping, tambourine-fueled rhythm. Similarly, there's none of the playboy's unctuous charm to Lee's snarling delivery of the vocals, which seem only barely to mask a suppressed fury; based on the way he yells "All I did was talk, talk about you/Hear your name and I start to cry" in the chorus, one imagines that these nights tended to end abruptly, with Lee's dates fleeing the restaurants in a panic. In an unexpected second act for this song, "My Little Red Book" unwittingly inspired one of British psychedelia's most legendary songs: Pink Floyd's original manager, Peter Jenner, was trying to describe Love's song to Syd Barrett by humming the main riff, which he didn't get quite right. Barrett turned Jenner's misremembered riff into the centerpiece of Pink Floyd's early signature song, "Interstellar Overdrive."  From: https://www.allmusic.com/song/my-little-red-book-mt0036975681#review

America raced heatedly westward, found Los Angeles waiting, and devoured itself. I think that’s what Arthur Lee was saying. Right?
1967 Forever Changes is a revelation. Echoing down the canyons and across the dusty, sun-baked pavement of the coast, Lee’s modern apocalypticism is arch but optimistic, the voice of a man eager to cultivate a new world but not before reducing everything to rubble.
In the melting pot of Southern California, Lee walked among the hippies and dwellers of the barrio. Briefly in the Summer of Love, he couldn’t decide whether to join or condemn them. Forever Changes is the sound of a man–a band–determinedly dismantling the achievements that had put him in that position. His band Love was pulling apart, and their refusal to tour imploded their success, but Lee was too autocratic and willful to let success get in the way of making the music he felt anyway.
The album is strung from one end to the other with a churning mixture of wavering resolve, apprehension, confusion, hope, and comaraderie among misfits. In angle and sentiment, it varies little from Love’s previous LP, Da Capo (also from ’67), but Forever Changes has the more deeply layered heart of a man recording his last will and testament. Indeed, Lee said of the album, “I thought I was going to die at that particular time, so those were my last words.” It is indeed a kind of last hurrah. The Love lineup that produced the sound of these classic albums would collapse soon after, and no Love LP would capture the same spark again.
Where “The Daily Planet” bemoans tedium, agitating for something, anything, new to move on to, Lee still boasts of his little community in “Maybe the People Would Be the Times or Between Clark and Hilldale.” Contradictions abound; condemnation is bred from understanding, though great comfort is found there too. Though society on the whole is burning to the ground (“The Red Telephone”), little pieces of joy still twinkle brightly (“The Good Humor Man He Sees Everything Like This”).
Forever Changes is a sterling achievement because, like many other sterling achievements, it raises so many issues, so many problems, presents them from a singular point of view (well, most singular–there are two Bryan MacLean songs, which complement the rest amply), and practically relishes its inability to resolve anything. The end track, “You Set the Scene,” gathers everything from the preceding 36 minutes–the ups, the downs, the smiles, the freak-outs–and arrays them attractively by one another.
There’s an ascending feeling of resolution, a sense of realization, but ultimately Arthur Lee just walks off. He asks the requisite questions, makes a few observations, but in the end just throws up his hands. Toward the end of the song is a line as telling as anything on the album: I want to love you, but oh… It echoes into halting dissolution, with Lee longing to embrace his world but still dismayed by its failings. And then soon afterward the album is swept to a close by a pageantry of lush strings and horns. “You Set the Scene”–and by extension, Forever Changes–is traced by darkness but churning within with great wonder, presumably precisely as Arthur Lee felt it.  From: https://rockoclock.wordpress.com/2010/06/25/love-you-set-the-scene/

Following the November 1967 release of Love’s Forever Changes album, Arthur Lee—Love’s lead singer and primary songwriter—was forced to reassess his situation.
Forever Changes had failed to sell on release and was not properly recognized in this country for more than a decade. (Elektra Records has never let it go out of print.) The album’s single, “Alone Again Or,” was, as expected, a hit in California but charted nowhere else.
It was now early 1968. Lee’s band, a once-kinetic ensemble now lazy, drugged out, rusty, and drained of confidence, was crumbling around him. Love was never a happy good-time group, instead choosing to anchor itself on the left coast in voluntary isolation, holing up and staying local as other Los Angeles bands traveled the globe.
Racially integrated at a time when such a thing was rare, the daringly eclectic band wore its alienation on its collective paisley sleeve. Some on the Sunset Strip felt that Love should have been called “Hate,” as the band put out strange, aggressive vibes on stage and in its interactions with writers and other musicians. Some of that might have been due to drugs; much was surely due to Lee’s volatile personality.
Now, with 1967 in the mist, Lee switched gears once again. Gone were the lovely string and horn arrangements of Forever Changes, and the jazzy experimentation of the album before, Da Capo, faded even further into memory.
Henceforth, Lee would compete with the harder rock sounds of the day. On January 30, 1968, the fivesome—Lee, Bryan MacLean, and John Echols on guitars, Ken Forssi on bass, and Michael Stuart on drums—gathered in L.A.’s Sunset Sound studio to record a new single.
You couldn’t call the two songs Love recorded that day “commercial.” “Laughing Stock,” which would be the b-side, quoted lyrics from the band’s first 45, “My Little Red Book,” and exaggerated its aggressive stop-start rhythm to an almost parodic level. The ending fade, in which the band literally falls apart, was far too close to the bone.
The a-side, “Your Mind and We Belong Together,” in some ways resembled Forever Changes: it had a typically odd Lee title, it combined several interesting fragments into a sort of suite, and was impossibly sad, as if written by a man watching a dream evaporate like water on a hot day.

I’d like to understand just why I feel like I’ve been through hell 
and you tell me I haven’t even started yet.
To live here you’ve got to give more than you get—this I know.

So many people, they just seem to clutter up my mind
And if it’s mine, throw it away. Throw it again, once for my girlfriend.

After months of barely playing, the band wasn’t tight; it took 44 takes to get a perfect (?) recording of “Your Mind and We Belong Together.” Outtakes that Elektra released on its Forever Changes expanded CD indicate that Lee ran a tight ship in the studio and sometimes had to be unpleasant to urge a better performance.
The final product, though, is stunning, an extension of the high-art pop single in the tradition of “Good Vibrations,” “Paint it, Black,” “Whiter Shade of Pale,” and “Strawberry Fields Forever." Lee produced a minor masterpiece.
The multi-part paean to a lost love opens with a zippy folk-rock beat and odd time changes. After a couple of loopy but hypnotic verses, it stumbles into a gorgeous flamenco-like section, and just as suddenly veers back into catchy pop, but with an impossibly dark twist.

I’m locking my heart in the closet. I don’t need it anymore.
You find me behind the door and all of the far-out faces
From long ago, I can't erase this.

Echols’ gritty, sloppy guitar solo takes the record to the fadeout. Elektra’s decision to release this odd, winding, but riveting single, all 4:22 of it, might have been more about letting the notoriously chippy Lee have his way rather than any feeling that the song could actually be a hit. While the record got a bit of airplay on the west coast, it was not a hit in Los Angeles, San Diego, or anywhere in between.
Oddly enough, “Your Mind and We Belong Together” reached #11 on Toledo, Ohio’s top 40 station, an event that can be put down either to incredibly progressive listeners, an aggressive promotion man, a program director with nothing to lose, or pure lunacy.

From: https://tenrecords.blogspot.com/2017/06/a-song-day-love-your-mind-and-we-belong.html 
 



Kalandra - Nerver Live Session 2018


Kalandra are not a heavy metal band, and yet they've bewitched the underground metal scene all the same "We never know what genre we fit into,” Katrine Stenbekk muses, earrings chiming as she tilts her head in thought. “It’s quite interesting that metalheads resonate with our sound.”
As she sits before us, delicately piecing together her thoughts, Kalandra’s frontwoman seems at odds with the metal world. Her doe-eyed, gentle demeanour is that of a nymph plucked straight out of the forest. It perfectly pairs with the band’s ethereal formula of prog-infused riffs, fluttering birdsong and mystical Nordic alt folk. Second record A Frame Of Mind, released last year, was like a series of lessons learned from therapy sessions, with single Untie The Knot questioning what life would look like if she let go of limiting beliefs and accepted herself fully.
“I write because it’s a healing experience for me,” she admits. “Because I have a stammer, singing and putting melodies to words allows me to express myself properly. I went deeper than ever on this record, and I hope that our music can be a form of therapy for people. I hope it helps people learn to forgive themselves.”
The cover depicts a woman’s body and hair flowing into the roots of a tree, the sun shining above her head like a halo, bringing home our connection with the natural world – something that’s important to Katrine. The band include the sounds of the outside in their songs.
“I’m a big sucker for field recordings,” Katrine says. “Sometimes the band will have a song nearly finished and I’ll be like ‘...samples?’ The guys focus more on the instrumentation, the chuggy riffs and the arrangements, and I’m obsessed with the natural side of things.”
“The birds on the record are all recorded by me,” she continues. “One is from a trip last summer, and I was sleeping in the guest room of my friend’s cabin. It was 5am, and this bird outside was so loud. I just thought, ‘If I don’t record this, I’ll regret it.’ So I shoved my phone out the window, and I recorded it straight away.”
Bittersweet songs such as I Remember A Time mourn the past as birdsong flourishes, while the wordless Hytta paints a mesmerising soundscape of a place Katrine once held dear.
“Hytta is my favourite track,” Katrine smiles. “I wanted to capture the atmosphere of my family’s cabin that was demolished in 2023. It was just getting too old, too difficult to restore. The track is part of me, and the cabin lives on through it.” Katrine is touched that such a delicate, unspooling record has sparked recognition in listeners – especially those from the heavier end of the spectrum.
“A Frame Of Mind is very soft, melodic, and atmospheric, but it’s incredibly introspective,” Katrine says. “Metal is a very reflective genre – you’re allowed to express your anger and happiness in their most extreme forms. Our music certainly explores the extremities of human emotion, in that sense.”
Katrine is unsure where Kalandra will go next, but she knows what she wants in the long run.,“We’ll have to see how our wavelengths align for the next project,” she ponders. “But, talking about the bigger picture, I can’t wait to retire. I want a hobbit life, one day. That’s the dream.”  From: https://www.loudersound.com/features/kalandra-introducing-interview

Elvis Costello - Armed Forces - Side 1


01 - Accidents Will Happen
02 - Senior Service
03 - Oliver's Army
04 - Big Boys
05 - Green Shirt
06 - Party Girl

After beating the sophomore jinx with his second album, 1978's This Year's Model, Elvis Costello set out to prove he was here to stay. On Jan. 5, 1979, Costello did just that with his third LP, Armed Forces. In some ways, Forces represented more of the same from Costello, who held onto his backing band the Attractions for the second consecutive album and reunited with producer Nick Lowe, who'd supervised the sessions for both of Costello's previous LPs. But if this set of songs sprung from a period of relative consistency in terms of personnel, they also found Costello moving forward in musical terms, tempering the aggressive overtones of his early work with a fuller, more pop-friendly sound.
"He wants to be daring, but he also wants to dance," Janet Maslin wrote in her Rolling Stone review, and that's as succinct a summation as any for Elvis Costello at this juncture. Armed Forces stitches a sonic patchwork that at times nearly borders on pastiche, but his lyrics are so subversively clever that it's clear he's in total control of his craft. Rather than concessions, the record's sweet arrangements function as necessary correctives to the caustic vinegar of the lyrics – a spoonful of sugar to help the medicine go down.
The album's first single, "Oliver's Army," is a perfect case in point, with an infectiously ebullient arrangement that, in just about any other artist's hands, would have served as a delivery mechanism for two minutes and 58 seconds of lines about love and heartbreak. Costello's lyrics are far darker, however: Inspired by a recent trip to Northern Ireland, he penned a cheerfully bitter screed against imperialism and governments' propensity to use young working-class men as cannon fodder for their conflicts.
It's the kind of thing that might have turned into an achingly serious anthem if someone like U2 had recorded it, but Costello's winking approach paid off – especially in the U.K., where "Oliver's Army" went on to become a No. 2 pop hit.
"There was an awful lot riding on it," engineer Roger Bechirian said in Sound on Sound, reflecting on the heightened expectations following Costello's first two LPs: "It was also a much more grown‑up record in terms of the writing, the band and the way it was put together. It was a much more dense production than This Year’s Model, which was very sparse and had involved a quick, off‑the‑cuff way of working."
That production stood in contrast to the increasingly catch-as-catch-can approach that Costello was forced to take with his songwriting. "Most of this record was written in hotel rooms or on a tour bus," he told Sound on Sound. "Every shop front or nightclub sign seemed like a line from a song. In some cases, that was just what they became."
Still, if Costello's constant touring made it hard to stop and think, it also fostered a period of unique personal and musical unity; as he put it in the same article, "The confidence and cohesion of the Attractions' playing is the product of 12 months of intense touring. The sessions were not without dissent and tension, but we probably never had quite this level of consistent musical agreement again."  From: https://ultimateclassicrock.com/elvis-costello-armed-forces/


Iron Butterfly - In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida - Side 1


01 Most Anything You Want
02 Flowers And Beads
03 My Mirage
04 Termination
05 Are You Happy

Its “strictly chickenshit” organ may have “bored to death” Rolling Stone in 1968, but Iron Butterfly’s second album In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida was a monster US hit and the first album ever to be certified platinum (for sales of a million copies) in America (it’s now sold 30 million). 
The sound of summer 1968, these days its reputation is predicated on the sprawling title track, which takes up the whole of the second side of the vinyl version. A cultural phenomenon, the track is far from the sole positive on an album where dysfunctional psychedelia meets a pumping garage sound – like listening to Led Zeppelin on the wrong drugs. 
As the band’s name laboured to suggest, their riffs caught the moment flower-power first flirted with heavy metal. They epitomised the burgeoning counter-culture almost unconsciously. That title track was a studio soundcheck, fortuitously taped while they waited for the producer to arrive, and its refrain a slurred mondegreen.
While its near-gothic meanderings owe a bass-line debt to Cream’s Sunshine Of Your Love, it still prowls and growls with stoner certitude. Often overlooked is the fact that other songs, such as Most Anything You Want and Are You Happy, have a tingle of inspiration too. My Mirage and Flowers And Beads are also effective. The dark side of hippy ideology.  From: https://www.loudersound.com/reviews/in-a-gadda-da-vida-iron-butterfly



Rickie Lee Jones - Living It Up


Especially on her early records, Rickie Lee Jones would often create characters for her songs that would play out events based on real-life experiences. "Living It Up" stars Eddie, C--t-finger Louie, and a girl named Zero. They all come together, pulled like magnets, to a strange place where it seems everyone is "living it up."
Jones had broken up with Tom Waits when she wrote the song, so listeners often ascribed at least some of it to him.
The "Oh yeah" backing vocals are by Sal Bernardi, Jones' collaborator and sometimes romantic partner around this time. He's the "Sal" of the song "Weasel And The White Boys Cool" from her first album.
Pirates was the second Rickie Lee Jones album, following her stunning debut that earned her a Grammy for Best New Artist. She became more drug-addled and less reliable after that first album, so the sessions for Pirates were a lot more challenging. By her own account, she would show up hours late for the sessions, but still expected the session musicians to remain engaged and develop and understanding of the songs.
On this particular session, she and her drummer, Jeff Porcaro, had a major dustup. Jones asked him to follow her, changing tempo as she did. He accommodated, but couldn't please her. Later, he was playing his part and she kept telling him (into his headphones) to play harder. Porcaro got so frustrated that he stuck his drumsticks like daggers right through his tom-tom heads and walked out of the session. Jones was furious, but got over it a few years later; she brought Porcaro in to play on her 1984 album The Magazine. No drum heads were damaged that time.  From: https://www.songfacts.com/facts/rickie-lee-jones/living-it-up

 

The Jimi Hendrix Experience - Are You Experienced


"Are You Experienced?" is the title track from the Jimi Hendrix Experience's 1967 debut album. It has been described as one of Jimi Hendrix's most original compositions on the album. The song is largely based on one chord and has a drone-like quality reminiscent of Indian classical music. It features recorded guitar and drum parts that are played backwards and a repeating piano octave. Live recordings from 1968 are included on The Jimi Hendrix Concerts album and Winterland box set. 
"Are You Experienced?" was recorded at London's Olympic Sound Studios on April 3, 1967, the final day of recording for Are You Experienced. The backwards guitar track was recorded four times, with the last take being used for the final version. According to engineering assistant George Chkiantz, "The original idea for the guitar recording was to do a loop, but that gave a problem... we tried looping it and then we couldn't get it to loop... in the end Jimi got so impatient doing this, he said 'look, it's quite easy, we're just gonna play' and played it in". It is also possible that Hendrix performed some of the backwards drum parts on the song in addition to drummer Mitch Mitchell.
Hendrix historians Harry Shapiro and Caesar Glebbeek have praised "Are You Experienced?" as "a majestic setpiece of declamatory anthem rock": Mitch Mitchell's military snare raps out behind the startlingly contemporary hip-hop scratch sound-effects of tapes running backwards punctuating Jimi's condition for being your guide ('If you can get your mind together'). To what? Sexual ecstasy? Altered states of consciousness? Or just finding yourself, taking time out to view what you're doing from the outside, 'from the bottom of the sea', letting go of the daily grind of the 'measly world'. It is all there for the taking. The secret is being at peace with yourself – 'not necessarily stoned, but beautiful'. Despite its studio complexity, "Are You Experienced?" was performed live by Experience several times in 1967 and 1968.  From: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Are_You_Experienced%3F_(song)  

 

The Decemberists - Leslie Anne Levine


Recently (in the last couple of months) I got really into a band called The Decemberists (not the Russian decembrist revolt). For those of you who don’t know, The Decemberists are an indie folk band from Portland Oregon. The band is made up of Colin Meloy, Chris Funk, Jenny Conlee, Nate Query, and John Moen. They released their first album in 2001 entitled Five Songs, and they have been nominated twice for a Grammy for their song “Down By The Water” but never won any. Their most popular song, according to Spotify, is “Don’t Carry It All” from their 2012 album The King Is Dead.
The song I want to look at is probably mine, and many other fans’, favorite song by The Decembeists. It’s from their 2002 album Castaways and Cutouts Entitled “Leslie Anne Levine.” This song is somewhat special because it is a narrative song. The song follows the story of Leslie Anne Levine, but more specifically the story of the ghost of Leslie Anne Levine. 
While researching this song I learned that this is actually a prequel to one of their newer songs “We Both Go Down Together” released in the album Picaresque in 2005.  Explaining the connection is rather difficult so I’ll use a quote from Colin Meloy, the person who wrote the song explaining the connection, colin meloy wrote on substack that he’s  “gone on to suggest that this couple, Leslie’s doomed mother and father, are, in fact, the couple we meet in ‘We Both Go Down Together.’ This implies that the woman survives the man (hooray!) and goes on to die in childbirth in a ditch (ohhhhhh).”  
Before the first verse there is a riff played on the guitar, which my Dad, Patrick Lambert, who has been a fan of them since 2005, said, “independent of the words or lyrics, musically, I like the opening chords they sound very big and open and there’s a lot of open strings.” open strings are when you play a note but don’t change the semitones of the note. 
Anyways, on to the actual lyrical analysis. The first lyrics are probably the darkest this song gets, apart from the connections to other songs (I.E. the suicide in “We Both Go Down Together”): 

“My name is Leslie Anne Levine
My mother birthed me down a dry ravine
My mother birthed me far too soon
Born at nine and dead at noon”

The ravine that she mentions is the ditch mentioned in the interview with Colin Meloy. The ravine was probably just meant to rhyme with her name or vice versa, but it might also be emphasizing her childishness because to a child a ditch would look rather large and very much like a ravine. Fifteen years after her death, Leslie still wanders the parapets of buildings in Dover clinging to her Mother’s petticoats,which is just a skirt that goes on under a skirt. 

“Fifteen years gone now
I still wander this parapet
And shake my rattle bone
Fifteen years gone now
I still cling to the petticoats
Of the girl who died with me”

We know that it takes place in Dover because in “We Both Go Down Together” they plan to jump from a cliff in Dover. Parapets could mean trench parpets, but it could also mean building parapets. (parapets are low protective walls along the edge of a roof, bridge, balcony or trench). But we also know that she is talking about the parapets of buildings because of the verse that comes directly after it.

“On the roofs above the streets
The only love I’ve known’s a chimney sweep
Lost and lodged inside a flue
Back in 1842”

This verse is explaining how she found a chimney sweep, which was usually a young orphaned boy, stuck inside of a chimney or flue, which is really just another way of saying chimney.  When I saw them on tour In August, they performed this song, but they changed the lyrics in the verse so instead of “Chimney sweep” it was “Chimbley sweep,” which is a reference to their 2003 album Her Majesty The Decemberists and a song on that album called “The Chimbley Sweep.”  Colin Meloy talks about this on his blog on substack, which provided a wealth of info on some of Colin Meloy’s  earlier songs and is just really interesting to read: “I’ve since grown accustomed to swapping ‘chimney’ for ‘chimbley’ when we do this live – I like the idea that there is some through line here, some connection between Leslie’s true love and the libidinous chimbley sweep from Her Majesty The Decemberists.” The fourth verse has some obscure language, which is consistent with other Decemberists songs:

“Fifteen years gone now
I still wail from these catacombs
And curse my mother’s name
Fifteen years gone now
Still a wastrel mesallied
Has brought this fate on me”

Rand Hollman, a freshman at the iSchool, pointed out the line “still a wastrel mesallied”  saying how he thinks it “reveals how Leslie feels about his mother and when I learned what waestral meant it revealed a lot about the song.” Mesallied is a pretty obscure French word.  I really like how Colin Meloy talks about how he came across this word on his blog on substack “I fell on this word because it felt good singing it, in this song’s rhythm and meter. I may have actually chosen the word, and then fit the circumstances around it. ‘Hmmm, mesallied,’ I thought, ‘That fits well. What does it mean?’ Of course, the definition is rife with all sorts of drama — a couple mismatched for one reason or another — and I ran with it.”
Wastrel is just a way to call someone a good-for-nothing or wasteful. The line “I still wail from these catacombs” could mean that she thinks of the city as her tomb or catacomb and the wailing could be her terrorizing the locals with ghostly wailing. This interpretation reminds me a lot of “The Chimbley Sweep” specifically the verse where the chimbley sweep says, 

“Upon the rooftops in dead of night you’ll hear me cry, I’ll shake you from your sleep” 

compared to Leslie’s 

“I still wail from these catacombs.” 

Another connection I made between the two was that  both characters have no parents; Leslie’s are dead and The Chimbley Sweep’s parents have orphaned him – “I am an orphan, an orphan boy I’ve known no love, I’ve seen no mother’s joy.”
This is the last, important verse of the song:

“My name is Leslie Anne Levine
And I’ve got no one left to mourn for me
My body lies inside its grave
In a ditch not far away”

Her parents both died so they can’t mourn her, and her grandparents did not acknowledge her parents’ love for each other, so they wouldn’t want to acknowledge a child born of a relationship that they did not approve of. The grave is probably just a metaphor for the ditch. I mean she has no surviving family that might want to bury her or even know of her existence. 
 Benjamin Becker, a freshman at the iSchool, said that he likes this line of the song:  “I don’t know why I liked it but when I listened to it, it made me feel something.” In my case, the line makes me feel kind of sad because nobody cares about her death. This line also makes me feel a little gross with the talk of dead bodies. The final verse:

“Fifteen years gone now
I still wander this parapet
And shake my rattle bone
Fifteen years gone now
I still cling to the petticoats
Of the girl who died with me” 

The song concludes by repeating the chorus. I think that the repetition of “15 years gone now” throughout the song is meant to show the passage of time and the things that she has done over those 15 years. Rattle bone is a line that means absolutely nothing as admitted by Colin Meloy on substack “I don’t know what a rattle bone is, I may have just made it up. Some amalgam of the Smiths’ line, ‘Rattle my bones all over the stones / I’m only a beggar man whom nobody owns.’” Despite it being entirely meaningless, it is still some people’s favorite line. For example Patrick Lambert said, “I guess I always thought of it as a play on a baby’s rattle, since they died as a baby and they’re talking about haunting it seemed like maybe it was a reference to a kid’s toy.” 
I had a lot of fun scouring the internet for people’s takes on the song’s meaning, some better than others (I don’t think this song is “actually about a flying machine created by Lord Quentin Cavendish Levine whose wife died in childbirth on the same day as the machine’s first voyage. He named the machine after his still born daughter who was to be named Leslie Ann.” as a user of the song meanings website might suggest). I was overjoyed when I found a version of the song annotated by Colin Meloy himself. I appreciate him not leaving us to wonder as to the song’s meaning, especially after my demoralizing experience trying to unpack the meaning of other songs only to be stopped dead in my tracks by users of the aforementioned song meanings website and by parts of interviews with Colin Meloy. 
This isn’t the only narrative song by The Decemberists. Other notable examples are The Hazards Of Love, which is a whole fifty-seven minute long album telling a story, The Tain, which is more like a rock song than a folk song and tells the story of “The Tain” which was an ancient Irish legend often called “the Irish Iliad,” and last but not least “The Mariner’s Revenge Song,” which is almost eight and a half minutes long and tells the tale of a mariner seeking to avenge his mother’s death.

From: https://inewsnetwork.net/10764/arts-entertainment/a-lyrical-analysis-of-leslie-anne-levine-by-the-decemberists/

 


 

Laura Love - All the Pushin' / Capricorn & Hominy / Octoroon / Blind Bartimus


It took a hard lesson in integrity to turn Laura Love from a partying-down, dabbling musician into a rich and dignified songwriter. Love, who arrived in Seattle via Portland from her native Nebraska in the early 1980s, has just released her major-label debut album, "Octoroon."
It is a radiant mix of earthy Cajun tones and hypnotic Caribbean rhythms, and follows three relatively successful, self-released solo albums (and two less-fondly remembered records with her old band Boom Boom GI).
"I had joined the band trying to be a bass player," Love says. "We had a singer who wasn't showing up much and I ended up with the job, but they weren't my lyrics." With the band's songwriting already taken care of by the guitarist, Love found herself the female figurehead of a male rock band, mouthing the kind of crass statements some male rock bands are all too fond of.
"I was so stressed about learning to play the bass at the same time that I learned the words of the songs phonetically," she remembers. A local music paper printed a review that called the band "annoyingly pointless" and picked out Love as a mindless mouthpiece. A stunned Love took a step back and saw what she was doing. "That review told me that I do have a responsibility to say what I believe, and whatever it is, it should be honest," she says.
"The cold and bitter lyrics of Boom Boom GI weren't my perspective, they weren't things I agreed with. In my life I have tried to be kind and tried to be accepting and tolerant, and actually embrace things and people who are different from me, and try to find our common ground."
Love clearly is no railing rock chick, but a self-confessed granola-type who in her spare time works on salmon restoration. "I started this group, Friends of Creek and Urban Salmon, FOCUS!," she says. "I mean, you can't get more granola than that!"
Love's stint on the Seattle grunge scene turned out to be merely an introduction to being a musician and a songwriter. "The music I've always enjoyed and listened to has never been grunge. That stuff was always fun to play, but never fun to listen to," she admits with a giggle. But among her rootsy compositions on "Octoroon" is a more or less faithful cover of Nirvana's doleful "Come As You Are."
"One of my biggest regrets in life is I dismissed grunge after I left," she says. "It's just this narrow . . . shallowness. Like when people say, `Hey man, I hate rap.' What do you mean you hate rap? There's good music and there's bad music. There are people who are saying stuff and it's stupid and redundant, and there are people who are innovative who are worth listening to.
"I didn't really allow myself to listen to any of (Kurt Cobain's) music until he was gone. I've been kicking myself ever since; it's been a lesson to me to keep my mind open. You know, I just love `Come As You Are.' "
Her big influences, however, come from decidedly different directions. "I love Sly and the Family Stone and James Brown," she says, her voice gliding over the names fondly. "Now I'm into bluegrass. Jo Miller and Ranch Romance got me into that."
Love recorded a bluegrass record with Miller and played some shows before Ranch Romance split early last year, and the influence is still strong in Love's new songs - a heady mix of blues, folk and bluegrass. Her transition might sound somewhat typical: Alternative rocker entering her 30s turns to an alternative folksinger-songwriter style instead. But Love takes a detour from the stereotype: She still plays bass.
"I tried to play guitar, but there were just too many strings and they were too little and too close together," she laughs. "So, I just went for the bigger string thing . . .
"I just get a groove going, just a mantra kind of thing; it gets good to me after a while and then I start moving my neck. You know, that bass-player neck thing! Then I get a melody and the words come last. "The songs just shape themselves. By the time the beat is there and the melody is there, you know what kind of song it is."  From: https://archive.seattletimes.com/archive/19970525/2540982/earthy-laura-love-finds-a-new-groove



Rockfour - Arnold Layne (Pink Floyd cover)


The Rockfour rock band won first prize Saturday evening at an international music competition judged by David Gilmour and David Bowie.
The competition called for various groups to record a cover version of the song Arnold Layne, Pink Floyd's first single composed by the late Syd Barrett, released in 1967.
Members of the group Baruch Ben Yitzhak, Isser Tennenbaum and Mark Lazar won a day of recording at the Abbey Road Studios in London. The studio was used to record a host of classic rock and roll albums, but it is primarily known due to the Beatles' album that bears the studio name.
Once the award was announced, David Gilmor's blog congratulated the winners and all those who took part in the project, saying he hoped everyone enjoyed it they did.
Members of the group are currently on a tour in the US which includes Philadelphia, New York and Texas. Overseas performances are expected to end on March 16th, and at the beginning of April the group is expected to release its new album "Memories of the Never Happened." The group recorded the album in the US last year and it will also comprise only English lyrics.  From: https://www.ynetnews.com/articles/0,7340,L-3372142,00.html 


Rhiannon Giddens - Avalon


Rhiannon Giddens’ new album, They're Calling Me Home, recorded with Italian multi-instrumentalist Francesco Turrisi, will be released April 9 on Nonesuch Records and is available to pre-order here. Giddens and Turrisi, who both live in Ireland when they aren’t on tour, have been there since March 2020 due to the pandemic. The two expats found themselves drawn to the music of their native and adoptive countries of America, Italy, and Ireland during lockdown. Exploring the emotions brought up by the moment, Giddens and Turrisi decamped to Hellfire, a small studio on a working farm outside of Dublin, to record these songs over six days. The result is They're Calling Me Home, a twelve-track album that speaks of the longing for the comfort of home as well as the metaphorical "call home" of death, which has been a tragic reality for so many during the COVID-19 crisis.
They're Calling Me Home features several traditional songs that Giddens hasn't played for years, including some of the first old-time pieces she ever learned: "I Shall Not Be Moved," "Black As Crow (Dearest Dear)" and "Waterbound." The album also includes a new song Giddens wrote, “Avalon,” as well as an Italian lullaby, “Nenna Nenna," that Turrisi used to sing to his infant daughter that took on new resonance during the lockdown.
The minstrel banjo, accordion and frame drums that have become characteristic of the pair’s sound are well represented on the album, but it’s the viola and cello banjo combination that captures unexpected emotion and intensity. Joining them at key moments are Congolese guitarist Niwel Tsumbu and Irish traditional musician Emer Mayock on flute, whistle, and pipes. Engineer Ben Rawlins was key to the shape and sound of the record while Giddens and Turrisi produced and Kim Rosen mastered.  From: https://www.nonesuch.com/journal/rhiannon-giddenss-new-album-theyre-calling-me-home-francesco-turrisi-april-9-nonesuch-2021-02-10