(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: The Coral Album Title: The Coral Year released: 2002 Year reissued: 2011 Details: Black vinyl, 180 gram, Music on Vinyl
The skinny: Just a few days ago, I wrote about this ridiculous ear worm that appeared at number three on my Best tunes of 2002 list. But “Dreaming of you” is by no means the only incredible tune on The Coral’s self-titled debut. Indeed, the (at-the-time) young sextet from Merseyside, England had put together a twelve-song kooky and psychedelic party, that you might say is reflected in the colourful pastiche album artwork. When I saw a reasonably priced copy of this Music on Vinyl reissue pressed to a 180 gram disc, I did not hesitate. And I can happily say that I am just as pleased with this pressing as I have been with everything else I’ve purchased by MOV.
You want an ear worm? Well, have I got one for you!
Those who are already fans, you know what I’m talking about. If you’ve heard this before but maybe have forgotten about its pure joy, chances are you’re going to thank me for the reminder. If you haven’t heard this track before, well… press play below and get ready to jump up and dance like a maniac.
This is The Coral’s third ever single and early hit, “Dreaming of you”.
The group was formed in 1996 in Hoylake, England when its six members were all still in high school. By the time the group released its debut, self-titled album, they had developed and fine-tuned a sound that was uniquely their own but one that was made up of instantly recognizable sounds. Steeped in old country folk, dub reggae, and all things psychedelic, they sounded old, yet new, and really, out of time altogether. Their relative youth fed their experimentation, their tendency towards fun and the lack of any sense of what shouldn’t work but in the end, did. The album was nominated for the Mercury prize and it and the band are seen as the first in the new wave of British guitar rock bands that kicked off the 2000s.
“Dreaming of you” comes in at track four on the album so if you’re listening to “The Coral” in full, you are already warmed up to the group’s energy, antics, and crazed pace. But I don’t think anything can prepare you for the smile that will instantly form on your face and how your feet will immediately start tapping. The hopping on one foot bass line begins the proceedings but the staccato guitars and whirling organs are not far behind. There’s horns, there’s vibraphone, there’s old style choral backup vocals and of course, there’s James Skelly’s soulful lead vocal turn. It’s like a crazed carnival on an old creaking ship caught in a turbulent ocean storm, navigating the giant waves with no one at the wheel because everyone is caught up in the party. It is mayhem and bedlam and hilarity. And all this in just a shade over two minutes.
“Up in my lonely room
When I’m dreaming of you
Oh what can I do
I still need you, but
I don’t want you now”
Whether you’re on the side of the lyrics being about heroin addiction or on the side of a love that’s no good but can’t be helped, there’s no arguing how wonderful the track is.
You are now guaranteed to be singing or humming this song all day.
You’re welcome.
For the rest of the Best tunes of 2002 list, click here.
One Sunday night in January, very shortly after New Year’s day in 1997, I ventured downtown Toronto to meet up with my friend Darrell from my Prose fiction workshop. I’m pretty sure the place was called Lion’s Bar and I am reasonably sure it was on College street somewhere near Kensington market but I now couldn’t tell you for sure. I remember the bar being in a basement and that it was a relatively small space but what I remember the most was that the music was awesome. Of course, that was why we were there.
The DJ that night was a friend of Darrell’s and I knew him, but only as a nodding acquaintance, mostly from a couple years of seeing him and requesting songs while he manned the decks on Saturday nights at one of York University’s college pubs. It was this same DJ that drove both Darrell and me back up to North York afterwards, long after last call, rather than subject us to the joys of the night bus. Once at his car, he handed us both promo copies of Catherine Wheel’s “Like cats and dogs” from his trunk and then played for us an advance copy James’s upcoming album “Whiplash” on his car stereo on the way home. But I am digressing here…
At some point that evening, I was on the dance floor taking a swig from my bottle of Labatt 50 just as whatever song it was that I was dancing to came to an end. It was replaced by a familiar guitar strum intro but one that was slightly edgier. Still, I placed it as “Bigmouth strikes again” and got back into dancing mode. By the time the vocals kicked in and instead of Morrissey’s plaintive warble, a Richard O’Brien-like sinister sneer chimed in, I knew that this was more than a different mix or take of the original Smiths track. And this brought a smile to my face, a smile that only widened and broke into outright laughter when the “hearing aid” lyric was modernized to “Walkman” and “Discman” for a bit of brazen hipness. This version was harder, noisier, and most definitely more glammed up than the original and that extra thirty seconds in length and increased tempo had this particular dancer slightly sweatier by the end. At its closing notes, I hurried over to the DJ to ask after the artist, which I repeated to myself over a number of times and even procured a pen to scrawl it on the inside of my cigarette pack because I no longer trusted my drunken brain to retain it.
Just over a year later, my ears pricked up when I heard the same band announced over the radio with a brand new song called “Pure morning”, which I loved immediately and this song ended up being a big hit for Placebo. I later came across the “Bigmouth strikes again” cover on the bonus disc that came with the deluxe edition of their 2003 album, “Sleeping with ghosts”, and I was immediately transported back to that very fun evening. And I experience the same sort of joy every time I hear this song now.
Is the Placebo cover better than The Smiths’ original? I can’t say that it is. But it’s probably just as fun to dance to.
Cover:
The original:
For the rest of the 100 best covers list, click here.
My (life in) music lists 