Song of the Week #3

 

 Song of the Week #3: 10/22/22

    This week, I'm being a bit more timely. That's not to say there haven't been certain challenges I've had facing this blog post. I have been in one of those musical slumps where you listen to the same eight crappy songs over and over again, so it is rather tough to determine an apt Song of the Week. I don't want to pick something I've been super into for a long time, and I don't want to pick something I've only been listening to for a day or so. I need something that's been in constant rotation for about a week. There's one song that fits the bill for that, and although I feel like it's a bit bland since I've written about this band before, I'm going to go with it. This week's SOTW is none other than "Faithless the Wonder Boy" by Radiohead. This cut was a b-side on the "Anyone Can Play Guitar" single back in 1993 or 94. Unpopular opinion, but I love "Anyone Can Play Guitar," so it makes sense that I'd enjoy this track so much. If you didn't already know, this is my favorite Radiohead era by far, even if it didn't produce their best tunes. They were so raw and immature and their take on the noisy grunge-pop of the period was really, really fresh. I don't care what anyone says, the 'head were doing it different, even then. The songwriting isn't deep, sure, but it doesn't feel like it's trying to be, either. So many groups were trying to be different. Radiohead wasn't trying to be anything they weren't when they made Pablo Honey. It's simple and it's stupid, and that's the point! I think so many critics get it wrong about the debut in that regard. Is it Radiohead's worst album? Probably. Is it a bad album? Not by any means. If any other alternative band had released Pablo Honey, critics would be ruling it a classic of its time. Duh, it doesn't hold up to Kid A whatsoever, but does it really need to? Ok, ok, I'm getting caught up in this argument, but that's not the point of this post. "Faithless the Wonder Boy" is a really simple song in the group's discography. The lyrics are childish and incredibly repetitive (Thom can't put the needle in), the instrumental is basic as far as Radiohead goes, and there is absolutely nothing about the song to write home about. I don't say these things as criticisms though. I don't think there's a need to overcomplicate things. I think it is a catchy, fun, and enjoyable pop tune and that's all that matters. I think it would be idiotic to look any deeper into this. I like to think Thom Yorke was having fun, and if you don't like this song because it's stupid, that's a-okay. I'm going to keep on listening.

Selected Listening:

Song of the Week #2

 

 Song of the Week #2: 10/15/22

    Alright, alright, I'm a bit late on this (last) week's SOTW,  so I'm marking it as October 15th. After a lot of deliberation (two extra days worth), I have settled on a song of the week. This tune is from Elliott Smith, or more specifically, the album Elliott Smith. I have a very special spot for this album in my heart since it is my second favorite album of all time. Literally any song on this record is a contender for the "Song of the Week" title, but only one can be chosen. With that being said, I'm going to have to go with "Christian Brothers." It's the one song off the record that I come back to the most. This one is a classic and if you haven't heard it yet, you are missing out! It's one of the greatest songs in his entire discography, and I've been listening to it a lot lately. It's catchy, it's heartbreaking, and it's emotional, it's literally everything you could want in an Elliott Smith song.  The odd chord progression and unsettling lyrics make it to be one of the most haunting songs from the singer-songwriter, and the lo-fi qualities certainly don't help. I don't think I could say anything about this song that hasn't already been said before, so just go give it a listen! Even if you've heard it before, it never hurts to listen again. 

Selected Listening:

p.s. I've been brainstorming some new posts, so be on the lookout for that. I've got one or two posts about film/television so if that's interesting at all, stay tuned!

Song of the Week #1

 Song of the Week #1: 10/7/22

    We've got a new segment on the Farewell Transmission. Every week, I'm going to give some brief thoughts on a special song I've been listening to for the past week. This week's song is none other than "I Miss That Feeling" by Tennis. I have known about this song for a couple years now, but haven't heard it in a while. I was reminded of it thanks to XMU (who plays them all the damn time), and I'm so thankful for that. It is an excellent song! Anything else I've heard from them does not stand up to this song's elegance, grandeur, or smoothness. Sonically, Tennis sounds like if ABBA and the Carpenters had a millenial child and that millenial's life was changed when it heard Tame Impala's Lonerism in college. As to be expected when compared to the likes of ABBA or the Carpenters, I really do think it's a beautiful song. I can't get over just how smooth and lovely it is, which makes the lyrics even weirder. Alaina Moore, lead singer for the duo, claimed she wrote the song as a love letter to her anxiety, which gives the song such an interesting tone. It's a crazy juxtaposition! A smooth, dreamy, modern soft pop tune, with lyrics detailing an anxiety attack. Whew. That's my song of the week! Give it a listen if you're into that new Psych-Pop stuff, or listen to it anyway because I'm definitely not.

 Selected Listening:

Fresh off the underground success of The Lonesome Crowded West (and a major record label deal), Modest Mouse set out to create their obvious opus, The Moon & Antarctica. Not only would it be their last great record, but it would ruin them forever.

"Everything that keeps me together is falling apart"

The 3rd Planet

    Before Modest Mouse released their Epic Records debut, they were nothing but an indie rock band from the Seattle, Washington area, which was still mourning the dying (dead) grunge scene of the early 90s. They had released their landmark record The Lonesome Crowded West just two years before they began recording their third studio album. Although most people you ask may argue that TLCW is their best record to date, I am a firm believer that the group matured just enough by '99 to record their obvious opus: The Moon & Antarctica. 

    With cuts like "Cowboy Dan," and "Doing The Cockroach," it's awfully hard to go wrong with TLCW. Isaac Brock was tired of the corporate BS and he wanted you to know it! He was angsty, he was frustrated, and he could *actually* play the guitar like a motherfucking riot, perhaps unlike his mainstream contemporaries. The opening riff to the seven-minute opener, "Teeth Like God's Shoeshine," makes your skin crawl, worse than a chalkboard being scraped. It was clear that their sound was still developing. Although their debut had its abrasive moments, it was largely a midwestern emo-esque record with a dreary, gray skies atmosphere. TLCW expanded on this, but in a far harsher way. It was filled to the brim with Isaac Brock's now-iconic howling and screaming. For some, it's tough to listen to. Others enjoy the rawness. I find myself to be in the middle of the road. I love his voice, I love the instrumentals, I think they're both great, but the music is missing just a little bit of polish. However, I do know that too much polish ruins their music, as everyone knows based on everything they've released post-Good News (I think it works on Good News). This perfect balance of polish and rawness is, in my opinion, achieved on their third record.

    There were rumors that the band would sell out and ruin their sound after signing to Epic, but thankfully they didn't do that for another record or two. To be fair, though, they have a drastically different sound on this one. It's more spacey, it's far more psychedelic, the emo influences are largely gone, and it's generally a more artsy record than what was expected of them at the time, I'm sure. The progression of their records is comparable to Built To Spill's, which had finally achieved that perfect balance of artsiness and rawness on their third album Perfect From Now On. Considering the obvious influence of BTS on the Mouse and this photograph of Isaac Brock, it is an apt comparison to make, especially since the similarities between the two albums are undeniable. Anyway, the instrumentals are considerably more layered and have the whole "ear-candy" thing going on for them. It's lush. I'm not entirely sure how I would describe the sound but I would describe the predecessing soundscapes as being relatively empty, especially on Long Drive. The most concise way of describing it is by calling it "dry." The effects, aside from distortion, are not heavy whatsoever. It is incredibly "tight," in that it has nowhere to go but the ears of a listener. There's a decent amount of layering going on, but nothing quite like what they would do past TLCW. The same sort of sound is still there on the second album, mostly on the Phil Ek recorded tracks (1, 6, 7), interestingly, but the big difference is that the production is grating and rough, like sandpaper (in a good way). This trend doesn't really continue on The Moon & Antarctica. It is layered, complex, and a hell of a lot more polished.

The First Act

    My introduction to Modest Mouse was "3rd Planet." I had found 4chan board /mu/'s essential records chart in 2020 and decided it was time to expand my music taste beyond the 90's alt-rock I had indulged so heavily in during my freshman year of high school. I prematurely decided that music was my passion after playing the guitar for 6 months, and, lo and behold, I was right! One of the first records I decided to listen to was The Moon & Antarctica. I knew from the ringing notes in the intro of that first track that I was in for a treat. I knew I was about to listen to something unlike anything I had ever heard before, and I still feel that way to this day, over two years later. Something about that first track resonated so deeply with my 15-year-old brain; understandable given my disposition at the time. I was isolated, my first year of high school cut short by the COVID-19 pandemic, and I was longing for human connection. The title of the record suggests the two most isolated and lonely places known to man, and my bedroom felt like a close third. "3rd Planet" seems to tell the story of a miscarriage, and while I cannot relate to such a story, the message of losing someone and feeling lost and "finding blind spots" was something that resonated deep inside of me. I was going to attend a boarding school in the fall, leave behind all of my friends, and be pushed into an environment I was not comfortable in. I was feeling all of the above. The first five tracks of the record, what I consider the first act, are generally upbeat instrumentally yet lyrically deal with harsh topics like mortality and loss, as well as the idea of coming to terms with who you are, however frustrating such a journey might be. These ideas continue throughout the rest of the record.

The Second Act

    The second act begins with track 6: "A Different City." It's a sprawling, chaotic guitar-driven track with lots of yelling. It follows the loud-quiet-loud formula, with the choruses(?) being noisy and rough, and the verses being pretty toned down, and even lonely-sounding. Remember how I said Long Drive had this dreary, gray-skies atmosphere? It comes back here in the second act. While I would consider tracks like 3rd Planet to depict a sunny day (), this second act brings back that lonely isolating atmosphere found on the first record, although it is far more layered on this album. Isaac Brock really went all out on the overdubs. From "A Different City" to "The Stars Are Projectors," the general feeling of the music leaves you caught on a rainy day, with no signs of the precipitation stopping. It all comes to a head on that latter track, though, when the rain becomes a full-blown storm and explodes everywhere.  It's all over by "Wild Pack Of Family Dogs," which is a stripped-down, calmer track than the others before it.  The storm has finally run out of rain, concluding the second act of the record.

The Third Act

    The final act of The Moon & Antarctica begins with "Paper Thin Walls," a fast-paced song in which Isaac Brock confronts mortality (a topic known all too well to Modest Mouse fans). Compared to the rest of the album, the third part maintains a brash sound, especially in "I Came As A Rat" and the closer "What People Are Made Of." "Life Like Weeds" meshes well with the proggy indie rock on the second part of the record, but it really does read like a closer. That's a big thing on this part of the album, it feels like it's a long, drawn-out ending.  I cannot listen to any of the songs in this part without listening to the whole thing, and I think that's great. Although the third act maintains the sense of chaos found in the second act, it amps it up to ten at the sake of losing the atmosphere. That isn't to say that the loss of atmosphere is a bad thing, it's just different. The record closes in chaos, somewhat reminiscent of what The Lonesome Crowded West was doing. Still, there's something different about what they did on this track. I think the production of TM&A with the sound of its successor would have made for a very interesting album, but it wouldn't be very Modest Mouse, would it? Anyway, the third act is one of the best runs in Modest Mouse history and deserves a lot more attention.

TM&A

    Without a doubt, this is the greatest album of all time. Undeniably. Hands down. Whew. 

    

Selected Listening:

The Bends was Radiohead's first masterwork– and the perfect Britpop record. Consumerism, depression, and overnight fame seem like common topics for Radiohead at this point, but all they had in 1995 was the promising yet shallow Pablo Honey.

"She lives with a broken man, a cracked polystyrene man"

Decompression Sickness

   Believe it or not, there was a time when I did not really like Radiohead. I know, how can someone be a music nerd and not love Radiohead? There's a reason OK Computer has a 4.25 on RateYourMusic (not to mention the #1 album of all time), but for the longest time I thought it was idiotic. Don't get it twisted, I thought they were great musicians, but I couldn't stand the fact that they were held so highly. I didn't get what was so special about OKC, I didn't understand why Kid A was the greatest left turn in music history, and I really didn't get why Pitchfork gave like 4 of their albums a perfect 10. I didn't always feel this way though. When I was first getting into RYM-core stuff, ITAOTS and OKC were constantly in my rotation. Something about Radiohead was so crazy to me, since I had only heard "Creep" before then. I thought they were a mystical creature, and OK Computer was a crazy piece of music. I quickly moved on from it after discovering Modest Mouse (more on that at a later date), though, and ever since I haven't really enjoyed Radiohead too much. Until recently. A few months ago, maybe April, I decided to take a listen to that stupid 1997 album again, and I finally decided that Radiohead is worth my time. I've thought Kid A was a solid record for a while, but this cemented the group's legacy in my head. I had hated on them for so long, but now I finally understand. Yeah, sure, I think it's still a bit overrated but I get why people would think this is the best album of all time. Definitely in my top 20. Anyway, this post isn't about that album. It's time to talk about The Bends. 

    I can't say that The Bends is forgotten or underrated because if we're being honest, nothing in Radiohead's discography is underrated. Shit on any album of theirs and plenty of people will come crawling to defend it. But I will say that I misunderstood it. I always liked a few of the tracks off of it, like "High and Dry" and "Just," but it never really stood out to me or resonated with me in any way. It was, to me, what Coldplay was doing in 2000, which I liked well enough but didn't care for. It wasn't crazy, it was just there. I didn't get it.  Like I said, I've been listening to a lot of OK Computer so I decided to give another album a try. I listened through it again a few nights ago, after it being 2 years since I listened through it all the way. And guess what. I get it now. I really do get it now. I know, I'm about 27 years too late, but I finally understand what it is about The Bends. The guitars and the overdubs and the drums and the bass-lines and the song writing and every single thing about The Bends is masterful and connects in such a beautiful way. Something about every single one of those tracks hits me deep in my soul like nothing else has ever done. I can't believe I'm saying this about a Radiohead album. Freshman year me would be so ashamed. This album's tracks just join together as a whole so perfectly. Not to say that that the unnamed 1997 album doesn't come together, because it most certainly does, but it's just different on The Bends. It's a perfect journey. It's like experiencing a part of yourself that you've never known before. It is ego death. It is realizing that you are not who you think you are.

    My thing with OK Computer (there I go) is that I feel like the group dives too deep into the whole "I hate technology and I'm going to kill myself" (me too) thing that it just comes off as pretentious and rage-inducing. As much as I love that album I would be lying if it doesn't frustrate me sometimes. It's like Father John Misty's Pure Comedy, which is an album I can only listen to at certain times. It feels like I'm being preached to. As wonderful as that record is, I just cannot stand it. It makes me too angry. OK Computer is the same way, but it just makes me angry in a different way. I get tired of hearing Thom Yorke's welping and crying and I feel bad for saying that because he's been going through it for the last 30 years of his life but I'll be damned if it isn't true. I just feel like the depression and anti-consumerism are both at a pretty good level on this record, a level where I'm not feeling like I'm drowned in it. It's good, it's nice, I dig it. It just hits a balance that everything else I've listened to fails to hit. It strikes something inside of me, and that means it's good. The way the tremolo hits on "Planet Telex," the way Thom's falsetto lulls on "Fake Plastic Trees," Jonny Greenwood's guitar on "Just," the opening riff of "Street Spirit (Fade Out)," everything. I could go on and on and on about how wonderful this album is and how it just connects perfectly. From point A to point B to point C and so on. Everything is perfect. Every single note feels like it matters. This album is a beautiful, and perhaps the most beautiful, record from Radiohead's discography. And I have no clue how they did it.

Selected Listening: