(Vinyl Love is a series of posts that quite simply lists, describes, and displays the pieces in my growing vinyl collection. You can bet that each record was given a spin during the drafting of each corresponding post.)
Artist: Slowdive Album Title: Souvlaki Year released: 1993 Year reissued: 2011 Details: Music on Vinyl, 180 gram
The skinny: Just over five months ago, another great 90s record turned 30 years old and this one an iconic shoegaze classic. But as I wrote when the song mentioned below appeared at number twenty-two on my list of favourite songs from 1993, Slowdive was a group from the original scene that I never properly appreciated until much later. I had “Souvlaki” dubbed to cassette but rarely listened to it. I had to track it down again much later when I felt compelled to give them another chance and of course, this time it stuck. So by the time the original members reunited again in 2014, I was getting to be quite the fan and I had already added this Music on Vinyl, 180 gram reissue to my record shelves. Of course, both of their post-reunion records are also on my shelves and I’ve seen them live now twice, including their amazing show in support of their newest record in Toronto back in September. And I can tell you, this record hit the platter a few times before and after that show for the mood-setting and memory shake-ups.
I’ve already written about the Help Warchild album on these pages* and tagged it as my favourite ever compilation. Another one that I really liked was Ruby Trax, a 3 CD set released by the NME in celebration of its fortieth anniversary. They collected together 40 covers of number one hit singles from over the years done by current artists of the day. I remember finding a used copy of it at the long defunct Penguin Music on McCaul street, four or five years after its release, and didn’t hesitate to open my wallet for it. I wasn’t looking for it because, lord knows, I never thought I would see it here in Canada, but I certainly recognized what I had in my hands immediately. A friend of mine** had put this cover of “Maggie May” by Blur on a mixed tape for me and being a pretty huge fan of said band, just had to know of its provenance.
“Maggie May” was originally recorded by Rod Stewart for his debut solo album. It was released as a b-side to what was supposed to be his first single, “Reason to believe”, a song I’m reasonably sure I’ve never heard. The b-side started get more play on the radio and has since become his best known song. The album version of this song about a young man’s affair with an older woman starts with this out-of-place acoustic guitar solo. But once it gets going and the hammond organ meshes with the 12-string guitar and the mandolin, it reminds you why it’s a classic, especially with Rod’s inimitable vocal chords providing the words.
Blur’s cover sounds like Blur right at the height of Britpop… because… of course, it was. Rowntree’s loose drumming, James’s bopping baseline, Coxon’s wailing and feedback-laden guitars, and Albarn’s freewheeling organs and cheeky vocal turn. It’s trimmer than the original and at four minutes, feels perfect.
Sure, theirs is not the original but they put their own stamp on it. And well, I love their stamp. Sorry Rod the Bod fans, I’m going with one of my favourite bands on this one.
Cover:
Original:
*In fact, a couple of its tracks have already graced this very list at #74 and #53 and we’re not near done yet.
**That same friend who had made a personal favourite mixed tape of retro 80s tunes.
For the rest of the 100 best covers list, click here.
“When you were here before
Couldn’t look you in the eye
You’re just like an angel
Your skin makes me cry
You float like a feather
In a beautiful world
I wish I was special
You’re so f*ckin’ special
But I’m a creep”
I’d say most, if not all English alternative/indie/rock fans, especially those of a certain age, know these words well and in fact, see in them a reflection of a certain time and place and feeling. Ah, yes, Radiohead’s first big hit, “Creep”.
Incredibly, there’s only been two posts* on these pages thus far dedicated to the well-known quintet from Oxford, England. One might think that yours truly was not really a Radiohead fan, but this is not the case. It just so happens that the series that I’ve been posting since this blog’s inception have not necessarily fallen in line with the years in which I feel that the group produced its best work. However, here we are in 1993 and this is where we find the song that introduced me and likely 99% of the world to their sound.
“Creep” is notable for being Radiohead’s very first single. It was originally released in 1992, almost seven months in advance of “Pablo honey”, the group’s debut album, upon which the single appeared. It didn’t immediately gain the traction that their label was expecting when it was hand-picked from some of their early studio sessions. It only first started to see success on Israeli radio, of all places, before finding regular slots in MTV music video rotation stateside. The label had to convince the band to reissue the single in 1993** and this is when it became the massive hit that was originally predicted.
In fact, “Creep” is still Radiohead’s most successful and most recognizable song, despite the fact that it is generally accepted that pretty much everything they released afterwards is more original and higher quality in songwriting and musicianship. This is why, for years, Thom Yorke and company had refused to include it on their live set lists, despite their fans’ unending calls for it. They have, however, softened their attitudes towards it in recent years, even pulling it out for random shows to everyone’s surprise and delight.
“Creep” had many of the hallmarks of 90s alt-rock – the crunchy guitars, the loud-soft-loud structure – but it also sounded fresh, especially to my ears. In spite of the band’s assertion that it is about an experience where Thom Yorke found himself following a woman he did not know, hence, “creep”, the sound became an angsty anthem for the disenfranchised gen X youth, kind of like a certain song by a particular band from Seattle. And I wasn’t at all immune to its charms and was often pulled to sing along with its lyrics wherever I was when I heard it played. It left a mark on many of us and ensured we took note of the band’s name so that our ears would be lubricated for their next release.
*A best albums post for 1997 and an appearance on my best tunes of 2000 list.
**Which is why I’ve included the song on this list rather than that of for 1992.
For the rest of the Best tunes of 1993 list, click here.
My (life in) music lists 