Flagpole Sitta. was the first song I heard by Harvey Danger (and thankfully not the last). It’s a really strong pop song with some very clever, outstanding lyrics. Seemingly about a man confronted with life’s ills and slowly being driven crazy, it’s got a great hook, that very lovely singalong chorus, and it’s a very well crafted classic rock and roll song.
And of course, the lyrics:
I had visions, I was in them,
I was looking into the mirror
To see a little bit clearer
The rottenness and evil in me
Fingertips have memories,
Mine can’t forget the curves of your body
And when I feel a bit naughty
I run it up the flagpole and see who salutes
(But no one ever does)
I’m not sick, but I’m not well
and I’m so hot ’cause I’m in hell
Been around the world and found
That only stupid people are breeding
The cretins cloning and feeding
And I don’t even own a TV
Put me in the hospital for nerves
And then they had to commit me
You told them all I was crazy
They cut off my legs now I’m an amputee, Goddamn you
I’m not sick, but I’m not well
And I’m so hot cause I’m in hell
I’m not sick, but I’m not well
And it’s a sin, to live so well
I wanna publish ‘zines
And rage against machines
I wanna pierce my tongue
It doesn’t hurt, it feels fine
The trivial sublime
I’d like to turn off time
And kill my mind
You kill my mind
Mind…
Paranoia, paranoia
Everybody’s comin’ to get me
Just say you never met me
I’m runnin’ underground with the moles
Diggin’ big holes
Hear the voices in my head
I swear to God it sounds like they’re snoring
But if you’re bored then you’re boring
The agony and the irony, they’re killing me, whoa!
I’m not sick, but I’m not well
And I’m so hot cause I’m in hell
I’m not sick, but I’m not well
And it’s a sin to live this well
(One, two, three, four!)
Girls On Film is easily my favorite Duran Duran song. I love the guitar riffs, the bass line, and I think this is also one of Simon Le Bon’s best vocal outings as well. The song, about the exploitative and voyeuristic qualities of the fashion industry, particularly pertaining to the relationships between photographers and models, moves along at a funky pace that’s quite enjoyable.
It’s also got a good beat, and you can dance to it.
Here’s a link to the video (the tame version–anyone can search for the uncensored version).
And of course, the lyrics:
See them walking hand in hand
Across the bridge at midnight
Heads turning as the lights flashing out
Are so bright
And walk right out to the four line track
There’s a camera rolling on her back
On her back
And I sense the rhythms humming in a frenzy
All the way down her spine
Girls on Film
Girls on Film
Girls on Film
Girls on Film
Lipstick cherry all over the lens as she’s falling
in miles of sharp blue water coming in
Where she lies
The diving man’s coming up for air
‘Cause the crowd all love pulling Dolly by the hair
By the hair
And she wonders how she ever got here
As she goes under again
Girls on Film (Two minutes later)
Girls on Film
Girls on Film (Got your picture)
Girls on Film
Wider, baby, smiling and you’ve just made a million
Fuses pumping live heat twisting out on a wire
Take one last glimpse into the night
I’m touching close
I’m holding bright, holding tight
Give me shudders with a whisper,
Take me high ’til I’m shooting a star
Girls on Film (she’s more than a lady)
Girls on Film
Girls on Film (see you together)
Girls on Film
Girls on Film (see you later)
Girls on Film
Girls on Film (two minutes later)
Girls on Film
No, I am not going to talk about Fiona Apple’s cover. That deserves it’s own post.
The original is quite strong in it’s own right. The song starts out slowly and quietly, builds up through anger and sadness, ending with quiet regret. it’s one of Elvis’s best vocal performances as he conveys the feelings of a man who’s lost his love to someone else quite well.
The Attractions, as always, are on top of their game as well. The song isn’t as complex musically as some of the other songs they’re famous for, but they show excellent restraint in building an atmosphere of changes in movement during the song.
And of course, the lyrics:
Oh my baby baby I love you more than I can tell
I don’t think I can live without you
And I know that I never will
Oh my baby baby I want you so it scares me to death
I can’t say anymore than “I love you”
Everything else is a waste of breath
I want you
You’ve had your fun you don’t get well no more
I want you
Your fingernails go dragging down the wall
Be careful darling you might fall
I want you
I woke up and one of us was crying
I want you
You said “Young man I do believe you’re dying”
I want you
If you need a second opinion as you seem to do these days
I want you
You can look in my eyes and you can count the ways
I want you
Did you mean to tell me but seem to forget
I want you
Since when were you so generous and inarticulate
I want you
It’s the stupid details that my heart is breaking for
It’s the way your shoulders shake and what they’re shaking for
it’s knowing that he knows you now after only guessing
I want you
It’s the thought of him undressing you or you undressing
I want you
He tossed some tattered compliment your way
I want you
And you were fool enough to love it when he said
“I want you”
I want you
The truth can’t hurt you it’s just like the dark
It scares you witless
But in time you see things clear and stark
I want you
Go on and hurt me then we’ll let it drop
I want you
I’m afraid I won’t know where to stop
I want you
I’m not ashamed to say I cried for you
I want you
I want to know the things you did that we do too
I want you
I want to hear he pleases you more than I do
I want you
I might as well be useless for all it means to you
I want you
Did you call his name out as he held you down
I want you
Oh no my darling not with that clown
I want you
You’ve had your fun you don’t get well no more
I want you
No-one who wants you could want you more
I want you
Every night when I go off to bed and when I wake up
I want you
I want you
I’m going to say it again ’til I instill it
I know I’m going to feel this way until you kill it
I want you
I want you
This is such a peppy song, I love it. Of course, the subject matter isn’t quite so peppy, but it’s not exactly evil either. A much better than average song about a fickle woman walking all over the hearts of the men she bewitches, it’s still a fun song with some great lyrics (EC=great lyrics? Who knew?).
It is most assuredly a fun song. The jaunty bass line plays against the eager strummed guitar, and Costello’s vocals harry and hector the song along through several key changes, and it’s just a fun song to listen to.
You can listen to the song below:
And of course, the lyrics:
(chorus)
It’s going round the town
It’s going round the town
It’s going round the town
You’re so lovable
My baby gave me notice to quit
I just can’t get used to it
She broke my little heart in two
Now somebody else is being the same old you
(chorus
My baby has Egyptian eyes
And a wicked look beyond compare
If you thought I was a fool for you
Then I must be a bigger fool for her
(chorus)
He’d turn the flowers of springtime into a wreath
He says he’d love you eternally
I say please please can’t you keep it brief
They say they’re going to bury you
Because you’re so lovable
Put your money where your mouth was
You’re so lovable
Each tender mumble brings us closer to bedlam
You’re so lovable
The toast of the town and the talk of the bedroom
You’re so lovable
You’re so sweet
You’re so honest
You say `I’ll be true to you boy’
But I won’t promise
Then you say you love me
Then you show me
As you lie there so lifelike below me
(chorus)
XTC have long been known as a quirky, but quite good, English pop band. However, one thing I don’t think they’ve been given much credit for is crafting some of the sweetest, most intelligent love songs out there. The Mayor Of Simpleton is one of those lovely songs.
The song has a fabulous bass line (I have no idea how Colin Moulding can sing backups and leads playing the complicated bass lines that he does), and some terribly sweet and clever lyrics. I particularly enjoy how very positive Andy Partridge’s vocals are. It would be easy to toss out Cole Porter like lyrics like Well I don’t know how many pounds make up a ton, Of all the Nobel prizes that I’ve never won and give an aura of sincerity, but you feel like Partridge means it. That’s really great.
And of course, the lyrics:
Never been near a university,
Never took a paper or a learned degree,
And some of your friends think that’s stupid of me,
But it’s nothing that I care about.
Well I don’t know how to tell the weight of the sun,
And of mathematics well I want none,
And I may be the Mayor of Simpleton,
But I know one thing,
And that’s I love you.
When their logic grows cold and all thinking gets done,
You’ll be warm in the arms of the Mayor of Simpleton.
I can’t have been there when brains were handed round
(please be upstanding for the Mayor of Simpleton),
Or get past the cover of your books profound,
(please be upstanding for the Mayor of Simpleton),
And some of your friends thinks it’s really unsound,
That you’re ever seen talking to me.
Well I don’t know how to write a big hit song,
And all crossword puzzles well I just shun,
And I may be the Mayor of Simpleton,
But I know one thing,
And that’s I love you.
I’m not proud of the fact that I never learned much,
Just feel I should say,
what you get is all real,
I can’t put on an act,
It takes brains to do that anyway. (And anyway…)
And I can’t unravel riddles, problems and puns,
How the home computer has me on the run,
And I may be the Mayor of Simpleton,
But I know one thing,
And that’s I love you (I love you).
If depth of feeling is a currency,
(please be upstanding for the Mayor of Simpleton),
Then I’m the man who grew the money tree,
(no Chain of Office and no hope of getting one).
Some of your friends are too brainy to see,
That they’re paupers and that’s how they’ll stay.
Well I don’t know how many pounds make up a ton,
Of all the Nobel prizes that I’ve never won,
And I may be the Mayor of Simpleton,
But I know one thing,
And that’s I love you.
When all logic grows cold and all thinking gets done,
You’ll be warm in the arms of the Mayor of Simpleton.
You’ll be warm in the arms of the Mayor of Simpleton.
You’ll be warm in the arms of the Mayor.
(Please be upstanding for the Mayor of Simpleton.)
Fountains of Wayne is one of those quirky bands that enjoy their quirkiness. Denise is a nice example of that. It’s almost a very sweet pop song, but what the listener really comes away with is an undercurrent of despair that the singer will not be able to hold on to his golden girl.
Personally, I love it because it’s a great tune, it’s very catchy and listenable, plus I find myself singing snatches from it all the time. I don’t mind a song like this that gets into your system, at least not when it’s a good song (one of these days I’ll vent about Kelis’ Milkshake, but the less said about that, the better).
And of course, the lyrics:
I know this girl named Denise
She makes me weak at the knees
She drives a lavender Lexus
She lives in Queens but her dad lives in Texas
[sha la la la la la la]
When she holds me
[sha la la la la la la]
I can’t help myself
[sha la la la la la la]
Won’t you tell me
Do you love me Denise?
Whoa-oh
Do you love me Denise?
Oh baby tell me please
[do ya do ya ah-oh do ya do ya]
I heard she used to be married
She listens to Puff Daddy
She works at Liberty Travel
She got a heart made of gravel
[sha la la la la la la]
She controls me
[sha la la la la la la]
She can’t help herself
[sha la la la la la la]
Won’t you tell me
Do you love me Denise?
Whoa-oh
Do you love me Denise?
Oh baby tell me please
[do ya do ya ah-oh do ya do ya]
Young Americans is a great song with some great performers playing on it, including David Sanborn and Luther Vandross. It’s a rollicking piece of urban style rhythm and blues, with stream of consciousness lyrics, an excellent series of church choir vocals, and just good old funk. Not to mention that it’s got one of the great lyrics of all time: Ain’t there one damn song that can make me break down and cry…?, which he delivers beautifully.
Here’s a link to a tribute video or if you prefer, here’s a link to Bowie performing the song on The Dick Cavett Show.
And of course, the lyrics:
They pulled in just behind the bridge
He lays her down, he frowns
‘Gee my life’s a funny thing, am I still too young?’
He kissed her then and there
She took his ring, took his babies
It took him minutes, took her nowhere
Heaven knows, she’d have taken anything, but
All night
She wants the young American
Young American, young American, she wants the young American
All right
She wants the young American
Scanning life through the picture window
She finds the slinky vagabond
He coughs as he passes her Ford Mustang, but
Heaven forbid, she’ll take anything
But the freak, and his type, all for nothing
He misses a step and cuts his hand, but
Showing nothing, he swoops like a song
She cries, ‘Where have all Papa’s heroes gone?’
All night
She wants the young American
Young American, young American, she wants the young American
All right
She wants the young American
All the way from Washington
Her bread winner begs off the bathroom floor
‘We live for just these twenty years
Do we have to die for the fifty more?’
All night
He wants the young American
Young American, young American, he wants the young American
All right
He wants the young American
Do you remember, your President Nixon?
Do you remember, the bills you have to pay
Or even yesterday?
Have you have been an un-American?
Just you and your idol singing falsetto ’bout
Leather, leather everywhere, and
Not a myth left from the ghetto
Well, well, well, would you carry a razor
In case, just in case of depression?
Sit on your hands on a bus of survivors
Blushing at all the AfroSheeners
Ain’t that close to love?
Well, ain’t that poster love?
Well, it ain’t that Barbie doll
Her heart’s been broken just like you have
All night
You want the young American
Young American, young American, you want the young American
All right
You want the young American
You ain’t a pimp and you ain’t a hustler
A pimp’s got a Caddie and a lady got a Chrysler
Black’s got respect and white’s got his soul train
Mama’s got cramps and look at your hands ache
(I heard the news today, oh boy)
I got a suite and you got defeat
Ain’t there a man you can say no more?
And, ain’t there a woman I can sock on the jaw?
And, ain’t there a child I can hold without judging?
Ain’t there a pen that will write before they die?
Ain’t you proud that you’ve still got faces?
Ain’t there one damn song that can make me
Break down and cry…?
All night
I want the young American
Young American, young American, I want the young American
All right
I want the young American
(Repeat 3 x’s to fade)
Walk Like An Egyptian is one of those songs that you probably like in spite of yourself. It’s one of those insidious tunes that worms it’s way into your brain and sets up shop there. Still, you enjoy the ride. It’s got a great rhythm and a great melody, and it’s just fun.
From Wikipedia:
Liam Sternberg wrote the song after seeing people on a ferry walking awkwardly to keep their balance, which reminded him of figures in Ancient Egyptian reliefs. The opening lyrics state, “All the old paintings on the tombs/They do the sand dance don’t you know”. The reference to the sand dance possibly refers to a music hall routine performed by Wilson, Keppel and Betty where Wilson and Keppel danced around in the postures portrayed on the reliefs wearing the fez while Betty watched. The music video for “Walk Like an Egyptian” similarly featured people dancing in such a pose.
And of course, the lyrics:
All the old paintings on the tomb
They do the sand dance doncha know
If they move too quick (oh whey oh)
They’re falling down like a domino
And the bazaar man by the Nile
He got the money on a bet
All the crocodiles (oh whey oh)
They snap their teeth on your cigarette
Foreign types with the hookah pipes say
Ay oh whey oh, ay oh whey oh
Walk like an Egyptian
The blonde waitresses take their trays
They spin around and they cross the floor
They’ve got the moves (oh whey oh)
You drop your drink then they bring you more
All the school kids so sick of books
They like the punk and the metal band
When the buzzer rings (oh whey oh)
They’re walking like an Egyptian
All the kids in the marketplace say
Ay oh whey oh, ay oh whey oh
Walk like an Egyptian
Slide feet up street bend your back
Shift your arm then you pull it back
Life[’s] hard you know (oh whey oh)
So strike a pose on a Cadillac
If you want to find all the cops
They’re hanging out in the donut shop
They sing and dance (oh whey oh)
They spin the club, cruise down the block
All the Japanese with their yen
The party boys call the Kremlin
And the Chinese know (oh whey oh)
They walk the line like Egyptian
All the cops in the donut shop say
Ay oh whey oh, ay oh whey oh
Walk like an Egyptian
Walk like an Egyptian
Turning Japanese is one of the most misunderstood songs of all time…or is it?
The meaning of the song is questionable. What is not questionable is what a great song this is. You hear it and it just lifts your spirits, makes you feel perky.
As far as the meaning, from Wikipedia
In the US, the song was believed to euphemistically refer to masturbation, specifically referencing certain facial distortions that may resemble the stereotypical image of a Japanese person. In fact, some US media outlets claimed that the phrase “turning Japanese” was a popular euphemism in the UK for masturbation; in reality, however, it has only become such a euphemism subsequent to the release of the song. Dave Fenton would alternately confirm and deny this suggestion in interviews, but admitted the phrase “turning Japanese” just popped into his head one morning when he woke up, and he viewed it as a love song when writing it. The song can be viewed as a love song or the ramblings of a man in a one sided relationship ostracized by society.
But from SongFacts
One of the more misinterpreted songs of all time, word was that “Turning Japanese” refers to the Oriental facial features people get at the moment of climax during masturbation. In a VH1 True Spin special, they asked The Vapors about this song, and they explained that it is a love song about someone who lost their girlfriend and was going slowly crazy. Lead singer Dave Fenton said: “Turning Japanese is all the clichés about angst and youth and turning into something you didn’t expect to.” It was inspired by Fenton’s relationship problems.
Personally, I dunno, but I always thought it was similar to the Who’s Pictures Of Lily, except a much better song.
And of course, the lyrics:
I’ve got your picture of me and you
You wrote “I love you” I wrote “me too”
I sit there staring and there’s nothing else to do
Oh it’s in color
Your hair is brown
Your eyes are hazel
And soft as clouds
I often kiss you when there’s no one else around
I’ve got your picture, I’ve got your picture
I’d like a million of you all ’round myself
I want a doctor to take your picture
So I can look at you from inside as well
You’ve got me turning up and turning down
I’m turning in I’m turning ’round
I’m turning Japanese
I think I’m turning Japanese
I really think so
Turning Japanese
I think I’m turning Japanese
I really think so
I’m turning Japanese
I think I’m turning Japanese
I really think so
Turning Japanese
I think I’m turning Japanese
I really think so
I’ve got your picture, I’ve got your picture
I’d like a million of them all ’round myself
I want a doctor to take your picture
So I can look at you from inside as well
You’ve got me turning up I’m turning down
I’m turning in I’m turning ’round
I’m turning Japanese
I think I’m turning Japanese
I really think so
Turning Japanese
I think I’m turning Japanese
I really think so
I’m turning Japanese
I think I’m turning Japanese
I really think so
Turning Japanese
I think I’m turning Japanese
I really think so
No sex, no drugs, no wine, no women
No fun, no sin, no you, no wonder it’s dark
Everyone around me is a total stranger
Everyone avoids me like a cyclone Ranger
Everyone…
That’s why I’m turning Japanese
I think I’m turning Japanese
I really think so
Turning Japanese
I think I’m turning Japanese
I really think so
I’m turning Japanese
I think I’m turning Japanese
I really think so
Turning Japanese
I think I’m turning Japanese
I really think so
[guitar]
Turning Japanese
I think I’m turning Japanese
I really think so
I’m turning Japanese
I think I’m turning Japanese
I really think so
Turning Japanese
I think I’m turning Japanese
I really think so, think so, think so
I’m turning Japanese
I think I’m turning Japanese
I really think so
I first heard this song about 3-6 months after Bust A Move hit, and I was impressed then. Later, I saw one of those Showtime at the Apollo type shows, this one featuring performances by East coast and West Coast rappers. This was during the beginning of the silly “East Coast/West Coast” rap feud, as well as also the feud between pop rappers and so-called gangsta rappers.
Young MC hit the stage and started performing this song. At the beginning, as a West Coast based pop rapper, he was booed soundly by the crowd. By the end of the song, he got a standing ovation. It’s that good a song–you enjoy it in spite of yourself, at least if that’s part of your thought process. It’s got a great bass line and rhythm, a nice chord progression, and it’s just a cool song.
And of course, the lyrics:
aah na-na, na-na
Now I wrote this record for when I perform,
from the nights inside a university dorm,
I put pen to paper with a paper and pen,
for the times I’m rockin’ the mic in front of women and men,
I get raw like Eddie, rough like Freddy,
Kreuger with a luger turnin’ men into spaghetti,
I’m like Fats Domino, up on Blueberry Hill,
’cause my rhymes are funky fresh not run of the mill,
And like a king has palaces I give an analyis,
You can’t talk because you suffer from paralysis,
of the mouth, of the lip, of the tounge, comin’ to you complements of a
brother named Young,
Now you can’t talk because I’m leaving you speechless,
so be quiet and let an educater teach this,
It’s due to my producer, so he’s in a rage. And Mike you control the vinyl
I’ll control the stage ’cause I come of,
Chorus
Four score and seven years ago
there were a whole bunch of rappers who were in the know
Four score and seven years later
I dig a hole in those rappers like the moon with a crater
Because they battle me they’re really taking a risk,
Cause you’re an eight track tape and I’m a compact disc,
And like Tyson drops boxers in rapid succesion,
I’m droppin’ MCs in the rappin’ proffesion
I’m comin’ off, just like the clothes on a hooker,
and I can fly like Jimmy Superfly Snooka,
Like a shuttle goes up into outer space, people’s hands go up when I enter
the place,
I don’t mean to brag or boast just to tell ya I’m great, but I can rock the
microphone like Dorothy Hammil can skate,
Yeah, I can say a funky rhyme like Greg Luganis can dive, Don’t have to be
Saturday night for Young MC to get live ’cause I come off,
Chorus
Yo I come off, My name is Young MC and baby I come off
Yo the brother’s comin’ off, Bust this, Here we go
Now one behold, Young MC struck gold,
form the rhymes that I’ve been sayin’ to the young and the old,
From the battles I’ve been havin’ with the smart and the dumb,
From the records I’ve been makin’ with the mic and the drum,
You know the other rappers wanna play a game with me,
they run and hide when they hear the name of Young MC,
Like a kid playing tag, that’s how it’s got to be
so when I start I say Oli Oli Oxenfree,
Yo, you can never write a rhyme as strong as this one,
So pay attention ’cause you don’t wanna miss one, of my healthy rhymes
nobody’s are healthier, New York, New Jersy, LA or Philidelphia,
City to city, and town to town, place to place
country to country, cause I get around
Even if you were in prison you’da heard me play
cause the warden had me rock and I’m on the PA,
So when you get out come and see my show
and if you start static back in you go
‘Cause comin’ off is the title and the theme of the jam,
and when the rhymes are finally finished people say God damn
cause I come off
Chorus
I come off. Yo baby, I come off. Here we go