Posted on

Key Albums #6: Blinking Lights and Other Revelations

Every moment’s built to last
When you’re living without a past

My list of key albums continues with the (still) incredible double album Blinking Lights and Other Revelations by Eels. It seems 2005 was a critical year for my tastes in music. My sixth entry in this list is the third album from this year.

I was 22, doing my Master of Animation degree, but still working the checkout at Coles and making websites on the side. I was out seeing live music every other week and spent most of the rest of my free time coding and designing my own websites and crafting 3D short films.

Most crucially as far as this album is concerned, I was feeling a little lost with life. I knew I enjoyed 3D, computer games, and movies, and was doing very well at Uni – but I wasn’t sure yet if there was a future for me in it professionally. I’d lost my last remaining grandparent. I couldn’t talk to girls, let alone get one to go on a date – and as a friend at the time frequently added, I looked like a “foetus”, so I’m sure that didn’t help.

The last year-and-a-bit, the pandemic, the isolation, the loss of people from life, has brought up a lot of similar feelings to when I was 22 and I recently rediscovered Blinking Lights as a result. It’s just as soothing as back in 2005.

Nothing hurts
Like someone who knows
Everything about you
Leaving you behind

And it’s a hard time
Trying to get through
All the days that drag on
Thinking about you

Last Time We Spoke

Melancholy is effectively the happiness of being sad. It’s also the word which captures Blinking Lights perfectly. Dark, sombre lyrics, dashed with just a sprinkling of hope and humour are layered over a bright and pretty sonic landscape. The album is paced beautifully and provides several (sometimes peculiar) instrumental moments where the listener has breathing room to ponder their own world.

Themes of death, loss, rejection, regret, and heartbreak are paired with admiration for the beauty of the world, be it the kindness of a pretty girl or the twinkle of car tail lights as they pass on the highway. Each song is either told with a smile and a hint of regret; or in sadness with a dash of optimism. That’s the trouble with reflection – happy memories can often bring a sense of sadness that those times have passed, while sad memories bring regret that they happened. Thinking about the past is lose-lose in this context.

Mark Oliver Everett puts it much better:

It’s also about hanging on to my remaining shreds of sanity and the blue sky that comes the day after a terrible storm, and it’s a love letter to life itself, in all its beautiful, horrible glory.

The tour which followed the album, Eels With Strings, is one of my favourite gigs of all time. It was raw, punchy, and at times hilarious (Everett is as good as any comedian between songs). It gave new life to the songs without losing their structure. The string arrangements added new life to the older songs, while unconventional percussion instruments (a suitcase kickdrum!) kept it down to earth, fresh and unique.

That breakdown at 2:35 is begging to be sampled

Prior to Blinking Lights, I was only really familiar with Eels’ Daisies of the Galaxy, a bright and sweet album which I had enjoyed but never loved. Following Blinking Lights I went on to explore the rest of his discography in depth. I became a huge fan of his entire body of work prior. There wasn’t a song I didn’t know. Unfortunately though, Blinking was so good it became hard to top, and my interest waned with subsequent albums.

But my love of Eels lives on in other artists such as Kishi Bashi and Big Thief – and Blinking Lights and Other Revelations will always bring a tear, and a smile, to my face.

My key albums list seeks to identify albums which I loved from beginning to end, which made an impact on me musically, lyrically and thematically, and sometimes even opened my ears to new sounds and new artists. Often they were paired with a highly memorable live show. It’s not necessarily representative of what I might consider my favourites in a traditional sense, although that is possible.

Posted on

Key Albums #5: Maniac Meat

You got sick from a lolli, lolli, lollipop
You feel free when you’re killing me

Tom Fec (aka Tobacco) is a musician whose sound can’t be described by use of comparison to other artists. Instead, I tend to think of a blender in which bubblegum, rainbows, sunshine, lipstick and workout videos are mixed with horror movies, demons, sweat, bodily fluids and acid.

I was familiar with his work as a member of Black Moth Super Rainbow (in particular Dandelion Gum) long before I’d heard of his work as Tobacco. I loved the dreamlike bliss which BMSR captured. Dandelion Gum is 45 minutes of low-fi psychedelic electronic hymns. You could close your eyes and picture yourself laying with the one you love in an open grassy field on a sunny day – a slight breeze carrying the smell of flowers and popcorn – as you held hands and melted into the earth. You melted into each other, and by the end you, your girl, and the field were one and the same.

Well, that’s the imagery I always conjured anyway.

As Tobacco, he takes this aesthetic and adds some crunch. There are blissful moments, but also moments of horror and creepiness. Maniac Meat is Fec’s second album under this moniker, but it was the first I heard (Fucked Up Friends is also worth a listen, and has one of my favourite album covers of all time).

From the first listen I was hooked. It explodes right out of the gate with Constellation Dirtbike Head – a song that begins abruptly as though you’ve already walked in late to a party. Fresh Hex kicks it up a notch with some alliterative imagery and power drums & spiraling synths. From there it goes up, it cools down, you get scared, then a warm synthetic hug grabs you.

Computer corrode connection counting camouflage cash
Crystal canary in a coal mine
Land a cortex cowboy kaleidoscope
Like a concrete cactus cracking in a colosseum

Lyrically, Maniac Meat is more about the imagery that words and sounds create rather than literal interpretation

This is no snoozer. This is an album to get pumped and perhaps a little psychotic. Throw yourself against the wall then lie in a pool of sweat as your mind drifts out of your body. I love it, but it’s certainly not for everyone. I haven’t yet recommended this successfully to anyone. They just don’t understand. But that’s fine – maybe this one feels more special for the fact it’s just for me.

I went on from here to explore a whole world of related acts – more Black Moth, Tobacco, Demon Queen, Malibu Ken. If, like me you’re on board with Maniac Meat, then you’re in for a treat with the rest.

Posted on

Key Albums #4: The Beach Boys with The Royal Philharmonic Orchestra

I-I love the colorful clothes she wears
And the way the sunlight plays upon her hair
I hear the sound of a gentle word
On the wind that lifts her perfume through the air

Hesitant as I am to include any collections or greatest hits compilations in my list of key albums, I’m willing to make an exception for The Beach Boys. Somehow, my go-to album for a group from the 1960s, who I’ve listened to my whole life, was released in 2018. And I love it so much that I rarely venture back to the older recordings.

My parents used to always have music playing in the house. It’s one of the greatest gifts you can give a child, and if I ever have a child of my own I’ll be doing the same.

My mum’s tastes were aligned along The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, Cliff Richard, Buddy Holly and 70s rock. Dad was into The Beach Boys, Fleetwood Mac, Van Morrison, Paul Simon, Jeff Wayne’s War of the Worlds (magnificent), ELO, Johnny Cash, Gregorian chants, Enya and that random whale-noise-music which oddly never set the top 40 charts on fire. Mum’s music was an education, but I didn’t come to appreciate it until I was older. But as a kid, dad’s tastes caught my ears and I latched onto them (except maybe the whale moans). The biggest of these was The Beach Boys and Paul Simon.

That first moment of Good Vibrations where Carl Wilson utters that first syllable ‘I’ could be my favourite one-second of recorded music. Somehow in that moment the whole essence of the song is captured.

On this version, it gets the foreplay it deserves.

The Royal Philharmonic version is essentially a greatest hits, but it brilliantly adds an extra layer of depth and stereo re-balancing without losing the charm of the original recording – the incredible harmonies and melodies. It also has the effect of evening out the sound so that all of the songs fit together.

I’ve long had this idea that I’d have been right at home growing up in 1960s California, much of that fed by a romanticised vision created by the music of the time – sunshine, beaches, burgers, cars, girls and love. Thankfully I can transport myself to that place at any time by slapping on this masterpiece.

Also, Good Vibrations may well be my favourite song of all time.

Posted on

Key Albums #3: Demon Days

In these demon days, It’s so cold inside
So hard for a good soul to survive
You can’t even trust the air you breathe
Because mother earth wants us all to leave

The album cover played upon The Beatles’ Let It Be, but became iconic in its own right

If there ever were a music group entirely catered toward my interests and tastes, it would have to be Gorillaz.

Illustration? Tick. 2D Animation? Tick. CG animation? Damon Albarn vocals? Guest collaborations? Rock, electronic, soul, rap, country, dub? Songs that switch gears half way through? Deep songs, fun songs, nonsensical songs? It’s like someone had studied what I was into and crafted it just for me. What’s more, it was served up as a fresh, subversive package of fictional band members, with a story to go along with it borrowing heavily from horror movies; intertwining zombie primates and Mesopotamian gods. I thought it was genius.

I couldn’t get enough. I was 18, I had my own money for the first time. I bought the music, the vinyl figures, the art book – and since I was on board before they exploded, some of those purchases have gained in value more than most investments I’ve made. I loved it, and that has only grown.

But this post isn’t about the group. It’s about their best album, Demon Days. Unlike my last two key album posts, I was already a huge fan prior to DD’s release. I’d had their self-titled debut on loop for the 5 years in between. There was nothing like it, and it spoke to me.

In my opinion, a great album isn’t just a collection of songs shoved together. It’s a collection of songs which sit together well thematically and musically as a cohesive piece. Gorillaz albums (save perhaps Humanz) have all done this. Demon Days opens and closes like a story and there isn’t a dull moment between.

This shit is B-E-A-UUTIFUL

The album follows some of the themes set out by their self-titled debut – the shallowness of celebrity culture and the manufactured music industry of the late 90’s, set to the backdrop of horror movies. But Demon Days extends on this with environmental themes (which Plastic Beach would take further) and how the world post-9/11 was going to shit. War, famine, garbage, greed, insecurity – Demon Days.

And musically it plays like a mixtape of everything I love. There’s Beach Boys inspired melodies and big orchestral arrangements on Don’t Get Lost In Heaven and the title track. O Green World opens with a basic drum machine set to an odd time signature and opens up to guitar-driven lo-fi vocals. Feel Good Inc had one if the best basslines ever recorded. There’s a short punk track which opens up to a straight-up nonsensical electronic dance song which slap you across the face before the triptych finale (starting with a story from Dennis Hopper).

Also, Every Planet We Reach Is Dead is one of my favourite song titles of all time, mostly due to how subversive it is. The song’s title suggests that every new place humanity reaches is not already dead but rather doomed to be; we are destined to kill all that we touch.

Kids haven’t harmonised like this since Pink Floyd’s The Wall

I’ve been lucky enough to see Gorillaz live twice – In Sydney on the Plastic Beach tour and in Los Angeles at the Demon Dayz LA festival when they were touring The Now Now. The latter show may well be my favourite gig of all time.

While we’re at it, here’s my ranking of their remaining albums:

  1. Demon Days / Plastic Beach
  2. The Now Now
  3. Gorillaz
  4. Humanz
  5. The Fall
Posted on

Key Albums #2: Guero

I prayed heaven today
Would bring its hammer down on me
And pound you out of my head
I can’t think with you in there

Marcel Dzama provides the artwork – which matches the music perfectly

Beck is easily my most played artist. I attribute this both to the enormous volume of work he has output, as well as the musical variety across all of that work. It spans genre and fidelity. It can be traditional or experimental.

In addition to this he’s very much an album-centred artist. I rarely feel like listening to only one song – if I’m in the mood for Beck then it’s an entire album I’m after, in order, as intended. And there’s enough flavours to suit a variety of moods. So the play count adds up quickly.

This didn’t really begin until 2005 when I was 22 and he released Guero. Prior to this, I was familiar with a handful of singles I’d heard on Triple J over the years. I guess I liked them but I’d never looked into who sang them. I might not have even realised all those songs were by the same artist. But Guero grabbed my attention. Is it my favourite Beck album? Well, I can’t say I have a favourite to be honest. I have two or three groups I lump them into. Guero is in the top group, but it makes my key albums list because it opened me ears to his world.

Guero explodes right out of the gate with the punch in the face named E-Pro, which samples the drum loop from Beastie Boys So What’cha Want and adds a crunchy guitar riff (and a whole bunch of na na na’s). It moves on to the bizarre and fun Cali-Mexican-slang-dense Que Onda Guero and the musically bright, but lyrically dark Girl.

Shynola video? I’m sold. Unfortunately this shoot also broke Beck’s back and ruined his very energetic live shows for the next 5 years

It doesn’t let up at any point. The entire work has a very distinct flavour, but every song maintains it’s own place in the mix. It’s like a delicious burrito. It all works together, but you can taste the guacamole, the tomato, and the coriander within.

Some favourite moments:

  • Black Tambourine will get me drumming my steering wheel or keyboard every time
  • Earthquake Weather is a hot desert breeze on my face that almost makes me wonder if I’m synesthetic
  • Broken Drum is 100% feels
  • Go It Alone is a GROOVE. A top-notch “fuck you, I’m walking away from this explosion” tune
  • Send A Message To Her has one of the most blissful bridges I’ve ever heard
Motion Theory directed this awesome MAD Magazine foldout inspired video

I was also a huge fan of everything that came along with the album. It had great music videos (still a thing in 2005). It had more remixes than album tracks (including some brilliant 8-Bit mixes by Paza and Guerolito, an entire album worth). It also introduced me to Marcel Dzama’s art.

Remixes worthy to stand beside the originals. This slowed down BoC mix of Broken Drum adds an extra level of emotion

If I ever had to recommend a good place to start to get into Beck, it would be Guero. It sits right at the middle of his career, and depending on your tastes, you can use it to branch off to his other work:

  • Like E-Pro and Rental Car or the intricate layered production work of The Dust Brothers? Give Odelay a spin
  • How about if you like the album overall but wouldn’t mind more synths and experimental stuff? The Information is for you
  • Do you love Missing? Try Mutations
  • Is Broken Drum your flavour? Sea Change or Morning Phase might float your boat depending on whether you’re heartbroken or hungover respectively
  • Keen for more Hell Yes, with some Prince-inspired sexx rhymes on top? Midnite Vultures is for you my friend

I could go on, but it would only waste time that could be spent listening…

Posted on

Key Albums #1: Hello Nasty

Fifty cups of coffee and you know it’s on

Packed like sardines in a tin

A recent conversation started me thinking about my favourite albums, or at the very least, the albums that shaped me and my personality (or possibly spoke to the personality I already had). It’s impossible to rank such a list, but some items that make the shortlist are obvious.

The first album I ever bought with my own money was Hello Nasty by Beastie Boys. At that time I was familiar with their previous work, but not intimately. My knowledge was largely drawn from their clever and often amusing music videos.

So in a similar vein, Hello Nasty was introduced by way of the video for Intergalactic. It was hilarious, fresh, and experimental. And I can’t pass a robot voice nor a thumping beat. That song was, and still is, a JAM. I wanted to see more, hear more and learn more.

Big Power Ranger energy

In 1998 I was 15. I had a job at the local pharmacy delivering medication to little old ladies on my bike. I made $6 for my 90 minute shift after school, two days a week. On a good shift, I’d get to deliver to Gladys Day – who, despite living only a block away from the pharmacy would give a whopping $2 tip. There’s a reason I remember her name 22 years later.

So in a good week, I’d make $15. An album was over twice that, and in those days all you had to go off was what you’d heard on the radio or seen on TV. I took the plunge and bought it, and got far more value than I had paid. I listened to that album on loop. I was a regular on the (very active for 1998) Beastie Boys message board and made friends from all over the world.

The first two minutes of this are pure comedy, as is Mike’s dance move at 3:25

Last year I read Beastie Boys Book, which I thoroughly recommend to general music fans. One thing that delighted me was a chapter by Adam Horovitz titled “Hello Nasty Is Our Best Record”. Horovitz goes on to outline his reasoning, and what grabbed me was that I agreed with all of it. Hello Nasty is weird, genre hopping, lyrically both deep and goofy, and yet all works. And the cover artwork encapsulates all of this. Horovitz says it best:

Hello Nasty is more mixtape than record. A gift from us to you. When you get a sec … listen to the songs Song for Junior, Song for the Man, Sneakin’ Out the Hospital, I Don’t Know, and Body Movin’. Are those songs supposed to be by the same band on the same record?

Adam Horovitz, Beastie Boys Book
This song still gets me – and only holds more weight after Yauch’s death

Most of those who only casually know Beastie Boys seem to draw their conclusions from Fight for your Right (To Party). In my case, I wasn’t even aware of their first album until years later and was surprised how different that was from the band I’d come to know from listening to (in this order) Hello Nasty, Check Your Head, Paul’s Boutique, Ill Communication, and To The Five Boroughs. To this day I still surprise friends when I play tracks such as I Don’t Know or Song For Junior and tell them it’s Beastie Boys.

I was fortunate enough to see these guys play three times, the highlight being their 2005 “dress to impress” tour at the Hordern Pavilion in Sydney – right up front in the January heat. When Adam Yauch died of cancer in 2012, it was the first time that a celebrity death had ever affected me. These guys were always true to themselves, did things the way they wanted, and pushed boundaries. They were never afraid to speak up for injustice, be it Tibetan freedom, endless war, or sexism (“Like you got the right / to look her up and down“). And all the while they were happy to goof around and have a laugh (“Dogs love me cause I’m crazy sniffable“) or drop cultural references in French or Spanish. When I visited New York City for the first time in 2011 I felt I already knew my way around based off Beastie lyrics.

They were never in it for money or fame – they just did what they loved and said what they felt. Ad Rock, Mike D and MCA had an overwhelmingly positive impact on that 15-year-old-me and the life that followed.

Play or fold, love is bold
What is the future that will unfold?
Some like it hot, others like it cold
But we all want to hold the remote control

Remote Control