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Top five tunes: Pulp

Who? Pulp

Years active: 1978 – 2002 & 2011 – 2013

Band members*:
Jarvis Cocker (lead vocals, guitar, keyboards) 1978-2002, 2011-2013
Candida Doyle (keyboards, organ, vocals) 1984-1986, 1987-2002, 2011-2013
Nick Banks (drums, percussion) 1986-2002, 2011-2013
Steve Mackey (bass) 1988-2002, 2011-2013
Mark Webber (guitar, keyboards) 1995-2002, 2011-2013
Russell Senior (guitar, violin, vocals) 1983-1997, 2011

*The above constitutes the core members during the height of the band’s career. There were a number of other members that came and went during the early days, of which Jarvis Cocker was the only constant.

Discography:
It (1983)
Freaks (1987)
Separations (1992)
His ‘n’ hers (1994)
Different class (1995)
This is hardcore (1998)
We love life (2001)

Context:
In September 1994, I went to see Blur perform live at the Phoenix Concert Theatre in Toronto. In the lineup into the show, I met up with my friend Tim, who had travelled in from Waterloo with a bunch of his friends with whom he was attending university there. We were all excited to see the headlining act, Blur, who had just released “Parklife” and were riding high on the waves of that excellent album. What we didn’t know as we stood waiting outside the Phoenix was that we were about to blown away by the opening act.

In fact, Jarvis Cocker led his band Pulp onto the stage that night as if they were the headliners, not Blur. The only song by them that I had heard was “Do you remember the first time” and only just earlier that afternoon on the radio, but their energy and their dynamic performance had me (and the rest of the crowd) rapt from the outset. It was glam, it was dark, and it was sexy. The tall and thin front man had a charisma shinier than his reflective blazer and was reminiscent of a David Bowie or Lou Reed. It was a set that few of us in attendance would ever forget and that forced many of us to go out the next day to purchase “His ‘n’ hers”. Shortly after that, Pulp released the single “Common people” and they exploded, even here in North America.

Pulp originally formed in Sheffield in 1978 and despite getting a John Peel session in 1981, struggled to gain a foothold throughout the 1980s. They finally broke in 1990s with the aforementioned “His ‘n’ hers” and then, even more so with 1995’s “Different class”, their fourth and fifth albums, respectively. Their name became synonymous with Britpop. Their headline set in place of The Stone Roses at Glastonbury in 1995 is the stuff of legends. Frontman Jarvis Cocker found even further notoriety when he jumped onstage to moon Michael Jackson at the Brit Awards in 1996. They released the brilliant “This is hardcore” in 1998 but by this time, Britpop was on the wane and the album didn’t really get its due. There was one last album, “We love life”, in 2001 before the band’s dissolution the following year.

Jarvis Cocker reunited the roster that released the band’s two best albums for a run of shows that was extended for a period that ran between 2011 and 2013. Unfortunately, none of the shows came close enough for me to see them again so that one original show is the only time I’ve seen them live. Still, I remember that one show fondly and much of their output in the 1990s ranks among my favourite ever songs. The difficulty in choosing just five songs was that they have great songs beyond “His ‘n’ hers” and “Different class” but how do you voyage very far from near perfection?

Nonetheless, the below constitute some of my favourites that Jarvis and the gang have released. I’d love to hear from the other Pulp fans out there (I know you’re out there) as to your own favourite tunes.

The top five:

#5: The night that Minnie Timperley died (from “We love life”, 2001)

I almost felt like I had to include a song that was recorded and released outside of Pulp’s two year heyday in the mid 1990s to prove they were more than a one trick pony. They just had so many great songs in that period that are now classics and I’ve constrained myself to just the five but this is an example of how great they were right up to the end. It was never released as a single off their final album but really should have been. The drum machine rhythms, rocking guitar riffs, and handclaps bely the dark subject matter of the song, a touchstone of Pulp’s oeuvre. Jarvis Cocker’s wry and often salacious lyrics and his knowing delivery are often what make their songs the masterpieces that they are. “The night that Minnie Timperley died” is an account of a teen’s murder, a snapshot into the minds of both the victim (“How can a girl have sex with these pathetic teenage wrecks?”) and the murderer (“He thought he was still dangerous – paunchy, but dangerous”). Brilliant.

#4: Disco 2000 (from “Different class”, 1995)

If that opening guitar riff that you leads into that disco danceable beat sounds familiar, I wouldn’t be at all surprised. It’s based heavily, if not a complete ripoff of the melody of “Gloria”, originally an Italian song by Umberto Tozzi but later translated to English in a cover by Laura Branigan. It’s meant to invite the memories and harken back to a younger time, back when disco was at its peak. It’s a case of the music reflecting the lyrical themes. The story here, apparently semi-autobiographical, is about a man wondering about his childhood crush, Deborah, (“The boys all loved you but I was a mess”), wondering what she was doing now, and fantasizing about meeting her again. “Oh what are you doing Sunday baby. Would you like to come and meet me maybe, you can even bring your baby.” Hilarious and touching at the same time. And of course, it’s disco so you want to dance to it, no?

#3: Razzmatazz (from “Razzmatazz”, 1993)

You might have noticed a thematic trend in my words on the first two songs. The draw in Pulp’s music is not just the danceable glam swagger but also Jarvis Cocker’s wry, facetious, and life-observing lyrics. Each song is a story, often of the salacious and lecherous underbelly of society that plays just below its surface. And you can’t get much more lecherous than the first two line of “Razzmatazz”: “The trouble with your brother, he’s always sleeping with your mother. And I know that your sister missed her time again this month.” The idea of the title, that of showy and noisy and attention-grabbing behaviour, is played out in the song. Whether lessons are learned is questionable but the consequences are certainly felt. And the music, with the driving strings and slithery soul, is dark and red lit, fester and pain, a shadow just beyond sight in the corner. This non album single is such a revelation and you just try to crack it out of your skull.

#2: Do you remember the first time? (from “His ‘n’ hers”, 1994)

As I mentioned above, this is the one track that I had heard before heading to that Blur show that they opened. It also just happens to be one of their first big hits, definitely the first to crack the top 40 in their home country. I’m not sure I remember what I thought of it as I first heard those driving basslines, intergalactic synths and electric guitars, and Cocker’s Ziggy Stardust-esque vocals, but it has since become one of my favourite ever tracks. The tune is pure sex, just as its title suggests. But it’s not really about the “first time”. It’s actually about a man trying to convince his lover not to go back to her husband. And with lines like “still you bought a toy that can reach the places he never goes” and “I don’t care if you screw him just as long as you save a piece for me”, you wonder how he could possibly fail. Hilarious and desperate and one hell of a groove.

#1: Common people (from “Different class”, 1995)

The fact that “Common people” is number one on this list shouldn’t come as much of a surprise. It is the song for which the best band is best known, their highest charting and best selling single, and is something of an anthem for the Britpop era. This last, in itself, shows how varied that movement was because outside of perhaps Suede, Pulp sounded little like the other big groups of the time. It is a highly danceable number with a hyper addictive synth line, electric violin flourishes, driving and raging guitars, and a drum beat that keeps everything moving at a frantic enough pace. And Cocker is really at the top of his vocal and lyrical game here. He tells a semi-autobiographical tale about an arts student he was after but is ultimately turned off by her interest in slumming and class tourism. This leads to ironic and sarcastic interplay between Cocker and his adversary. I don’t know how many times I’ve shouted along on the dance floor as he tries to explain: “Rent a flat above a shop, cut your hair and get a job. Smoke some fags and play some pool, pretend you never went to school. But still you’ll never get it right ’cause when you’re laid in bed at night, watching ‘roaches climb the wall. If you called your dad he could stop it all.” So much pure awesome.

For other top five lists in this series, click here.

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Tunes

Top five tunes: R.E.M.

Who? R.E.M.

Years active: 1980 – 2011

Band members:
Michael Stipe (lead vocals) 1980 – 2011
Peter Buck (lead guitar, mandolin, banjo) 1980 – 2011
Mike Mills (bass guitar, keyboards, backing vocals) 1980 – 2011
Bill Berry (drums, percussion, backing vocals) 1980 – 1997

Discography:
Murmur (1983)
Reckoning (1984)
Fables of the Reconstruction (1985)
Lifes Rich Pageant (1986)
Document (1987)
Green (1988)
Out of Time (1991)
Automatic for the People (1992)
Monster (1994)
New Adventures in Hi-Fi (1996)
Up (1998)
Reveal (2001)
Around the Sun (2004)
Accelerate (2008)
Collapse into Now (2011)

Context:
I would imagine, if you are reading these words, that you are not completely in the dark about R.E.M., the group, the music, and their impact on modern rock. But just in case you are, I’ll flesh out the quick facts from up above. Formed in 1980 in Athens, Georgia as a quartet, they lasted 31 years and ended things up as a trio, losing their full-time drummer to health issues along the way. They’ve released 15 studio albums in all, along with 16 compilations, selling a total of 85 million records worldwide, and were inducted into the rock and roll hall of fame in 2007. They were one of the first “alternative rock” bands and have influenced pretty much every group from that genre worth listening to.

My own first exposure to the group came after the release of their major label debut, “Green”, in 1988 and I saw the video for “Stand” on the Chum FM 30 countdown. I bought the cassette tape and wore it out, later replacing it with the compact disc. When I started transitioning my tastes from pop music to alternative, as the 80s gave way to the 90s, I decided it was still “cool” to like them and I began to explore more and more of their back catalogue. But it was the two albums that followed “Green”, during the period that they took off from touring, that I consider my favourite of their many ‘periods’ in the career. And I know that I am not alone here, but really, how can you argue with “Out of time” and “Automatic for the people”?

Speaking of the latter, we just passed the 25th anniversary of that great album’s release date a few days ago. In celebration of such an auspicious occasion, the album is due to be re-issued next month in a deluxe CD box set format, as well as a new pressing on 180 gram vinyl. Given that “Automatic for the people” is my all-time favourite album by the band, I jumped right on the pre-order wagon and am not-so-patiently awaiting the record’s delivery. The anniversary is also what prompted this particular post, in a sense. Though in truth, I’ve been working on putting together this list of my top 5 songs of R.E.M. for months but have been in serious procrastination mode, given the difficulty I’ve been having settling on just the five out of the great depth and wealth of their tracks.

As always, after reading about my picks, I’d love to hear from you in the comments section below. Do you disagree with my choices? If so, what are your five favourite tunes by R.E.M.? Go ahead and choose your own. It’s not an easy task, I promise you.

The top five:

#5: Leave (from “New adventures in hi-fi”, 1996)

An ex-girlfriend got me a copy of “New adventures in hi-fi” on CD for my birthday. Otherwise, I might not have purchased it as soon as it came out. It had felt like decades had past since “Automatic for the people,” instead of just four years and lots had happened, both to R.E.M.’s sound and to my tastes. I didn’t listen to it right away and when I finally did get to it, nothing immediately grabbed me. But it was a slow grower. And this track is like a poster boy for the album as a whole, a song that on first listen, is annoying with that fire alarm guitar motif acting as a cover for the beauty of the song. I think it took hearing the alt. version of the track at Dance Cave one night (check it out here) for the song to really click. But where that one is shorter and quieter, I do prefer the album version for its length and boiling rage. The roaring and foreboding guitars threaten to overtake Stipe’s vocals but he doesn’t let them here, very much needing to be heard. So much emotion in all that sound.

#4: Orange crush (from “Green”, 1988)

From the files of misheard lyrics humour, I freely admit that for many years, I thought that when Michael Stipe sang, “Follow me, don’t follow me, I’ve got my spine, I’ve got my orange crush”, I thought that he was saying: “I’ve got my sprite, I’ve got my orange crush”. Sure, I thought it was strange to be singing about soda pop but I was young and full of shrugs. Of course, I know now that it is an anti-vietnam war song, the “orange crush” referring to a chemical weapon agent and the rapid fire drum beat that I loved to shuffle my feet to on the dance floor was meant to resemble machine gun fire. And sure, armed with the real meaning, the helicopter sounds and the marching chants towards the end of the tune make a lot more sense. But knowing their intent doesn’t change what a great pop song this is and didn’t at all ruin my love for dancing to it.

#3: Losing my religion (from “Out of time”, 1991)

I feel like this is the song that changed everything for R.E.M. It was their highest charting single up to that point and the video (seen below) was on constant rotation on all the music channels. It really is a brilliant tune. Not so obviously pop with its heavy leaning on Peter Buck’s mandolin and seemingly rambling and nonsensical lyrics, but the straightforward beat, string flourishes, and handclaps made it pretty catchy. But don’t let the name or all the religious imagery in the video fool you. According to the group, it’s a tune about unrequited love. And you can almost hear the pleading in Stipe’s vocals as he sings about the largesse of life, the lengths he will go to and the distance in her eyes. Really? Who is this woman that can resist that delicate mandolin and Michael Stipe’s one of a kind vocals? I’m projecting here, of course, assuming it’s a woman, but whoever it is, whatever it is, this feeling of being left like a lost fool is universal and now we have an anthem for us all to get behind.

#2: Nightswimming (from “Automatic for the people”, 1992)

“Automatic for the people”. As mentioned above, my absolute favourite of their albums, but also considered by a great many others to be the band’s best. ‘Dark and brooding’, it’s called. But I disagree, preferring ‘contemplative’ as a descriptive. It has its happy moments, as well as its sad, but it’s all very thought-provoking. “Drive”, “Man on the moon”, “Everybody hurts”, “The sidewinder sleeps tonight”, “Sweetness follows”, the list of great tunes goes on and on. I could have easily filled this top five list with songs from this one album (but that wouldn’t have been very representative). And yet, I chose “Nightswimming”, the penultimate track, a quiet wonder, a tune I didn’t even know was released as a single until I started writing these words. Why? Because it’s brilliant. It’s use of piano and strings is so anti-guitar rock and so anti-everything that was popular music in 1992. Michael Stipe is the star here, singing so lovely and waxing nostalgic about the end of summer and swimming naked by the moonlight. It’s all so real that the memory feels like its mine. A song I could listen to forever and not grow tired of its beauty.

#1: It’s the end of the world as we know it (and I feel fine) (from “Document”, 1987)

…On the other hand, this is a song that I feel like I have been listening to forever and has many real memories attached to it. One of these happens to have been formed in that year I took off between high school and university and I was having pints after my shift in the bar I worked at for few months. I got to talking with a gentleman a number of years older than I was (and probably quite a bit drunker that night) and we talked a lot about music, some of which I knew, some of which I would discover over time. At some point, this particular track came over the speakers and my “friend” started singing along. But when he got to the line, “Lenny Bruce is not afraid”, he insisted that “Lenny Bruce is not insane”. I didn’t argue with him for long because he just kept getting louder about it and of course, at the time, there was no such thing as google or wikipedia, so I just ordered us both another round of pints and joined him in singing the incorrect line. And really, with a song this great, so rocking and energetic, a rhyming off of historical moments and figures at a frantic pace, trying to get it all in before the end, what’s one wrong lyric? Cheers.

For other top five lists in this series, click here.

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Tunes

Top five tunes: The Tragically Hip

Who? The Tragically Hip

Years active: 1983 – present

Band members:
Gordon Downie (lead vocals) 1983 – present
Paul Langlois (guitars) 1983 – present
Rob Baker (guitars) 1983 – present
Gord Sinclair (bass) 1983 – present
Johnny Fay (drums) 1983 – present
Davis Manning (saxophone) 1983 – 1986

Discography:
Up to Here (1989)
Road Apples (1991)
Fully Completely (1992)
Day for Night (1994)
Trouble at the Henhouse (1996)
Phantom Power (1998)
Music @ Work (2000)
In Violet Light (2002)
In Between Evolution (2004)
World Container (2006)
We Are the Same (2009)
Now for Plan A (2012)
Man machine poem (2016)

Context:
It’s Canada’s 150th birthday today and I can’t think of another homegrown band that is as well-known and is as loved across this large country of ours as The Tragically Hip.

For a good stretch from the 1990s to the early 2000s, they were definitely the undisputed heavyweight champions of Canadian rock. Their blues-infused rock with folk storytelling style leant itself well to sit beside pretty much every genre of music so they were played on all radio formats, from rock to pop to alternative to top 40. In those days, everyone in Canada knew who they were and you were a either a diehard fan of the band or you were just a casual fan. But nobody really hated them. Unfortunately, this phenomenon never translated to international success. Besides a bit of love from Australia, New Zealand, and patches of Europe, The Tragically Hip never really gained traction outside of Canada.

Right up to last year, they played to massive arenas and stadiums and headlined festivals here in Canada but if you crossed the border into the states, you could catch them playing tiny club shows. However, last May, frontman, Gord Downie, announced that he had been diagnosed with terminal brain cancer. The Hip embarked upon what many called their final Canadian tour that summer, culminating in a concert in their hometown of Kingston that was attended by the Prime Minister and televised across the country.

Personally, I never actually owned a Tragically Hip album until my wife’s CD collection merged with my own when we began cohabiting and her copy of “Trouble at the hen house” was filed beside my copy of Travis’s “The man who”. I think it was four years later that they released their first ever “best of” compilation. I went out and procured a copy of the two disc version of “Yer favourites” (it was also released as a deluxe edition including DVDs called “Hipeponymous”) because although I couldn’t ever see myself listening to their albums, they had a few singles that I really loved.

I finally saw The Tragically Hip live for the first time with my wife at the Ottawa Bluesfest a few years ago. We both considered it almost like a rite of passage as Canadians and though neither of us have ever been the biggest of fans, both of us knew every single song that they performed. It was almost as if the band’s music was in our bones and in our blood, and it all felt as natural as knowing the words to “O Canada”.

If you’re not Canadian and have never heard them before, these five songs can serve as a great introduction. But if you are Canadian, well… you know all these songs. You might as well sing along. It is Canada day, after all…

The top five:

#5: Bobcaygeon (from “Phantom power”, 1999)

This song and its mellow acoustic groove makes the list mostly because it’s named after a tiny town in central Ontario that I’ve driven through a million times but have never stopped in. But it also reminds me of my first real job after university working in a tool rental shop. “Bobcaygeon” received so much radio play that it drove my boss, Cam, nuts. It wasn’t long before I began randomly mimicking Gord Downie’s whine of the chorus to drive him even more nuts, and strangely, a fondness for the song grew. I still love it today.

Favourite lyric: “Could have been the Willie Nelson, could have been the wine.”

#4: New Orleans Is Sinking (from “Up to here”, 1989)

For a while in 2005, certain radio stations took this song out of their rotations out of sensitivity for the Hurricane Katrina disaster. It’s The Hip’s second ever single and perhaps best representation of their blues rock influences with its killer guitar zingers. Despite being released twenty-five years ago, it is considered one of the band’s best-known tracks and a fan favourite at their live shows. Speaking of which, if you’ve ever seen them perform “New Orleans is Sinking”, you might have also inadvertently caught a glimpse of a future song in development. The Hip often use the middle of this song to test out new songs. “Nautical disaster” and “Ahead by a century” both started out as bridges to this track live.

Favourite lyric: “My memory is muddy, what’s this river that I’m in? New Orleans is sinking, man, and I don’t want to swim.”

#3: Scared (from “Day for night”, 1995)

Don’t ask me why but this song evokes images of late-night chill sessions for me, candles lit and incense burning, people passed out on the floor, and empty red wine bottles everywhere. It’s not as if I lived that sort of lifestyle (he says smiling facetiously) but if I had, this might be just the sort of song that would have been on my stereo on nights like that. It’s quiet and riveting and emotionally charged. Like tears welling in your eyes for no reason at all but that are wiped away before anyone notices.

Favourite lyric: “Now there’s a focus group that can prove this is all nothing but cold calculation.”

#2: Ahead by a century (from “Trouble at the henhouse”, 1996)

This song was released during what was perhaps the peak period of The Hip’s career trajectory and is likely one of their biggest songs. I was entering the late stages of my university career. It was there, living in residence, that I discovered the ferociousness of their fans. Up to that point, I had only paid them minimal attention but on many occasions in 1995 and 1996, I was subject to polemics from multiple sources on the intricacies of their guitar work and the beauty of Gord Downie’s poetry. He “spoke” to their fans. So when he said in this particular track that life is “no dress rehearsal”, a whole generation of young Canadians swooned.

Favourite lyric: “And disappointing you is getting me down.”

#1: Courage (for Hugh Maclennan) (from “Fully completely”, 1993)

“Courage” has always been my favourite Tragically Hip, even before I learned of the dedication to Canadian author Hugh Maclennan in the parentheses to the title. It’s never even been a close race with number two but that attribution of this loftiest of personality traits to a fellow wordsmith only improved it for me. Never mind that the synergy of the driving drum track with the guitar hook wizardry makes the song arena encore ready, complete with devils horns salutes and white male air guitar dancing. And even as I am writing this down, I can’t believe I am writing it. Without the song to back them up, my words don’t aptly describe something I would normally listen to and enjoy. Yet I do love this track. Perhaps that’s the magic of The Hip and their ability to transcend genre and appeal to Canadians from across the country.

Turn it up! You know you want to.

Favourite lyric: “Courage, it couldn’t come at a worse time.”

For other top five lists in this series, click here.