I wrote about how I fell in love with Elbow and their first album, 2001’s “Asleep in the back”, in a couple posts about tracks that were amongst my favourites of that year*. Indeed, I became quite obsessed with the Manchester-based quintet, name checking them with all my friends, recommending their music at every chance I got, describing their sound as epic and bombastic. I’m sure my friends got sick of hearing about them and being who they were, took every advantage to rib me and poke fun. I didn’t care. I just pressed repeat.
When I heard a sophomore album was being released, I went out to the local HMV and purchased “Cast of thousands” on CD as soon as it was possible. I didn’t even consider there would be a letdown given my lofty expectations and thankfully, the album didn’t disappoint in the least. Titled for the idea that they enlisted and recorded the Glastonbury crowd singing the refrain of one of the album’s tracks but really evoking how the band doubled down on the followup to their successful debut. Listening to the album over and over again that first week, I came up with a new descriptor for them: beauty, personified.
I distinctly remember taking the CD with me on a trip down to Toronto to visit my friends, Discman company for the long Greyhound bus ride, there and back. I stayed with my friend Tim that weekend, whose birthday it was, if I correctly recall, sleeping on the pullout couch in his basement apartment. On one of the afternoons, a couple of other friends came over and we span tunes, drank beers, ate Pizza Pizza pizza, and played Axis and Allies** for hours. When it was my turn to select the tunes, I slipped on “Cast of thousands” much to the eye rolling of my friends and though I think they got more of an appreciation, I don’t think any of them were entirely sold or as enthusiastic about the album as I was. Maybe it was my fault for talking it up so much. Their loss.
“I blow you a kiss
It should reach you tomorrow
As it flies from the other side of the world”
The second single and track three on the album is “Fugitive motel”. It begins with the barking of dogs off in the distance, followed by sinister guitars, a brushing away at the drums, strings awash, and a lonely piano. Over it all is Guy Garvey’s plaintive vocals, a depth of tone, and a layer of guilt and hurt. His is a protagonist, disheveled and unshaven but unwavering in hope in the face of eternity. It is less a narrative than a feeling – lovelorn and lost and far away. Strong imagery, cinematic in scope, the cheap and seedy hotel room as a prison, a captive in a dream, the whole world desolate and forgotten. But still Guy waits.
Well, we’re finally breaking into the top thirty on this list of my favourite ever covers and it’s Pearl Jam frontman doing The Beatles’ “You’ve got to hide your love away”.
This is the fourth cover of a Beatles song we’ve seen on the list so far* and the third track to be pulled from the “I am Sam” soundtrack. In the two previous such posts, I mentioned how the soundtrack for the 2001 film consists solely of Beatles covers, faithful in track length and time signatures, given the filmmakers were not granted the rights to include the originals and that the songs had already been selected for already filmed scenes. It was a brilliant save by the filmmakers and the result is probably a more interesting soundtrack than it might have been, as great as The Beatles’ originals of those seventeen songs were.
It’s no accident that I am timing this post to follow the one counting down albums ten through six in my Best film soundtrack series. If you’ve been following along, you’d know that “I am Sam” didn’t appear as one my honourable mentions back on February 1st, nor was it amongst the latter half of my top ten. And when I saw this particular post on radar to write, I thought I’d take the opportunity to clear the air before moving into the top five – “I am Sam” won’t be one of them. Great concept yes, and some of the renditions were quite successful, but I’d say that almost of half of them were less so, making the whole less than its parts. An uneven listen.
Eddie Vedder’s cover was another one of the bright spots. Faithful to the original, not only in sound but also in spirit, a playful wink of the eye.
Much has been made of the fact that the John Lennon-penned “You’ve got to hide your love away” was his attempt at Bob Dylan. Successful or not, the fourth track on side one of 1965’s “Help” album is Lennon singing solo overtop a bed made of mostly acoustic guitars. Sure there’s a bit of percussion but it’s definitely before Dylan went electric and where Mr. Zimmerman would typically accompany himself with a harmonica, The Beatles opted for some flutes in its place.
Vedder opted for similar ethos with his cover. You can almost imagine him standing on a New York City street corner with a harmonica neck holder around his neck, a kick pedal attached to a high hat at his feet. The production even sounds dusty, DIY, and of a different time.
Lovely stuff indeed. Better than the original? Well…
Just over a couple of weeks ago I gave a sneak preview into my new “Best albums” series and provided a handful of ‘honourable mentions’ just to whet your appetite. If you missed that post, go on back and check it out. I’ll wait. If you’ve already perused that piece, you’d know that I am (or at least I was) almost as big a fan of films as I am of music.
What I didn’t mention two weeks ago is that I’ve never been a huge collector of film soundtracks. No. As much as I appreciate how the choice of music can elevate a film immeasurably, how much I enjoy well placed songs and picking and pointing them out when I recognize them, it’s a rare thing for me to want to sit down and listen to film soundtrack more than just the one time. The albums in this list will represent the exceptions to the rule. These are soundtracks that are not just great accompaniments to the films for which they were compiled but are also great listens in their own right. In some cases, they perfectly evoke the feeling of the films and remind of particular scenes. In others, the compilations stand on their own, even transcending the films to become a cultural phenomenon.
In today’s post, I’ll share albums ten through six of my list of ten favourite film soundtracks. Then, I’ll share the top five, giving each their due in their own post, over the next month or so, interspersed with the other lists that I’ve got on the go. As always, I welcome your comments and perhaps your own favourite soundtracks as we go.
Let’s start.
#10 “Marie Antoinette” (2006)
Sofia Coppola often used indie music to great effect in her films, especially in her early work. Her third feature length film was a biography on Marie Antoinette, beginning with her being married off to the dauphin of France and ending at the eruption of the French Revolution. If you put on the soundtrack without context, you likely wouldn’t guess the story it was meant to help tell, but accompanying the highly stylized film, it was perfect. Mostly pulled from the original wave of post punk and new wave of the 80s, which was seeing a resurgence in indie rock during the time that the film was released. Great tunes by Siouxsie and the Banshees, New Order, The Cure, and a well-placed “I want candy” by Bow Wow Wow, but the real treat was two tracks by newer indie rockers The Radio Dept., who I was just falling in love with at the time.
#9 “Clueless” (1995)
A retelling of Jane Austen’s Emma, disguised as a teen rom-com, set in Beverley Hills? AS IF! It starred a very young Alicia Silverstone and Paul Rudd in their earliest film roles, was mildly successful in the theatres but gained traction on video, and has become something of a cult classic. Of course, in the 90s, when alt rock was king, film soundtracks had a habit of playing like a mixed tape of the hottest things or the about-to-be hottest things. “Clueless” had to be hip to be a hit with the teen audience it was targeting and it didn’t fail. It starts with some interesting covers by The Muffs (Kim Wilde), Cracker (Flamin’ Groovies), and Counting Crows (Psychedelic Furs) and rounds things out with some hit Britpop (Radiohead, Lightning Seeds, Supergrass), my favourite Bosstones track, and introduced me to The Smoking Popes.
#8 “Fear & loathing in Las Vegas” (1998)
“We were somewhere around Barstow, on the edge of the desert, when the drugs began to take hold.” I remember being super hyped when I first heard that “Fear & loathing”, one of my favourite books at the time, was being adapted for the screen by Terry Gilliam and would star Johnny Depp and Benicio Del Toro in the principal roles. I went to see it in the theatre with my friend Crissy at the Promenade Mall north of Toronto and we howled all the way through, even as the half-empty theatre drained by half that, even before the quarter mark of the film. The soundtrack features psychedelic rock of 60s, notably, Jefferson Airplane’s “White rabbit” which features prominently in a particular scene in the book, as well as Vegas residency crooners (like Tom Jones and Perry Como). Dialogue bits by Depp and Del Toro lead into most of the tracks and are interspersed between them, as if Depp is narrating the soundtrack as he does the film. A drug fuelled trip chasing the American dream.
#7 “Vanilla sky” (2001)
Back at the end of the 90s, Tom Cruise convinced Cameron Crowe (who he had worked with on “Jerry Maguire”) to remake Spanish-language film “Abre los ojos”. I went to see it in the theatre, not for Cruise, but because I’d always admired Crowe’s work. I remember enjoying it at the time but remember very little of the film, save for its surreal quality and how it was left open to the audiences’ interpretation as to what was real and what was not. Of course, Crowe’s soundtrack contributes to the dreaminess of it all. On paper it might seem eclectic, ranging from R.E.M. to Bob Dylan to The Monkees and Peter Gabriel, but collected together, it’s a beautiful thing. Indeed, this soundtrack completely changed my outlook on “Solsbury hill” and “Sweetness follows” and it also introduced me to Iceland ambient rock band Sigur Rós. Lovely stuff.
#6 “(500) Days of Summer” (2009)
“This is a story of boy meets girl. But you should know upfront that this is not a love story.” “(500) days of summer” is an indie non-romantic comedy that stars Joseph Gordon-Levitt and indie it-girl Zooey Deschanel as its two principals. Their story was not straightforward but it was bound to end in heartbreak. Of course, it was. It had its start in a shared love of The Smiths. In a film where the music was almost a third piece in a love triangle, an integral character, the soundtrack would without a doubt be something special. It plays like a mixed tape put together by Tom and Summer from their collective collections, featuring Doves, Black Lips, Hall & Oates (!), Feist, Regina Spector, Simon & Garfunkel, and unsurprisingly, The Smiths. And if you get the deluxe editions, you get the songs performed by Joseph Gordon-Levitt (Pixies’ “Here comes your man”) and Zooey Deschanel (Nancy Sinatra’s “Sugar town”) during the karaoke scene. Definitely a compilation as fun as the film it accompanies.
Stay tuned for album #5 on this list. In the meantime, you can check out my Best Albums page here if you’re interested in my other favourite albums lists.
My (life in) music lists 