Deadweight was featured on the soundtrack for the movie A Life Less Ordinary starring Ewan McGregor and Cameron Diaz–a movie I must confess that I’ve not seen, but I’ve heard…interesting things about. It did have a pretty good soundtrack however.
This is a pretty good pop song, one that sticks in your head a bit. It has a kind of mid-60’s smooth jazz feel (one could imagine the likes of Trini Lopez performing this song), but at the same time there’s a bit of edge provided by the lyrics. The video is quite cool as well, better than average for a music video promoting a movie, as Beck interacts with the movies’ characters and scenes through surreal visuals.
And of course, the lyrics:
On a highway unpaved going my way
You’re so alone today
Like a ghost town I’ve found
There’s no relief, no salt in the sea
Is it true what they say
You can’t behave
You gamble your soul away
Measuring your dreams of this life seems
Like the gristle of loneliness
Don’t let the sun catch ya crying
Don’t let the sun catch ya crying
Like an nice age nice days
On your way sipping the golden dregs
On a rip tide freaks ride
Sleep inside a parasite’s appetite
Oh say can’t ya see the chemistry
The parasites, the cleanup fee
Death leather hands recycled cans
Get well cards to the hostage vans
Don’t let the sun catch ya crying
Don’t let the sun catch ya crying
You’re a deadweight right straight
On your way sunk in the midnight shade
Skies burn eyes turn
Learning to counterfeit their disease
In this town where we roam
We bluff our souls on canteen patios
Drink the greatest draft
The music drags the music drags the music drags…
Don’t let the sun catch ya crying
Don’t let the sun catch ya crying
For me, part of the major appeal of X is the dissonant harmonies created when Exene Cervenka and John Doe sing together. That and the fact that they are one hell of a great band as well, especially back when Billy Zoom was the regular guitarist. This song is cool–great lyrics, great hooks, just really cool.
From SongMeanings:
In the classic documentary *Decline of Western Civilization* X-ene (sp?) said she got the title from a bible tract. The song is about one of those battles married people experience - about sleeping on the couch, about her disappointment with her husband, her jealousy for an unnamed woman, his callous attitude - and then by one AM she’s back in bed with him; the fight is over but not her bitterness. Anybody who has been married knows the feeelings expressed in this song.
Here’s a link to a live performance in 1981
And of course, the lyrics:
I’ll go somewhere else
I’ll move to the couch
It’s darker in the dark
It’s darker in the day
I forgot you were a liar
Now it’s five to twelve
Shut up and smoke
And I’ll go somewhere else
No more orange nightgowns
One o’clock and then it ends
This is no place
To be addicted to another place
Never get to go
Don’t you want me to make it
I took as long as you took
You take alot from me
I forgot you were a thief
I want to be like her
Instead I stay nowhere
Marked down in the basement
Lousy at the bottom
A life of intermission
F-Hole isn’t going to be to everybody’s taste, but if you listen to it a few times, it definitely grows on you. It’s a story of a young man’s night out and his peculiar meeting with a woman that perhaps he likes and perhaps not–it’s hard to tell, really.
Personally, the grating sound of the song has grown on me over the years, and I just think it’s a lot of fun.
And of course, the lyrics:
I wrote her name on a bar mat
She had a peculiar bonnet,
But a youngish damsel figure
With her tongue tied to a trigger,
She seemed a total killer
Her face all filled with filler,
Her face a painting palette
I stomached all her habits,
Sipped her snow balls poshly like a judge
But left her lipstick traces on her mug.
We watched each other closely
She looks like Bela Lugosi,
She asked me for a ride home
I felt around for my comb,
And in the bar room mirror
I combed right through her figure,
She wiggled through the car park
Into the pit of my heart,
Sat herself beside me in my van
A ring on every finger of her hand.
She lived down by the river
A flat the council give her,
Wallpaper very scenic
Her outlook very beatnik,
We watched the close and weather
Then through the door he entered,
Short sleeves and arms of iron
And me with just my tie on,
She said the lodger’s used to this by now
I’d handled all the bull but not the cow.
Behind her velvet sofa
I found myself back sober,
She kept an old acoustic
She never ever used it,
A gift for me with a capo
A six string with an f-hole,
We made the strangest couple
A Laurel and Hardy double,
I learnt to play her favorite country songs
With one or two chords always going wrong
This is such a sad song, and one that pretty much anyone could relate to. What really makes it is Costello’s on-the-verge-of-tears vocals, as well as the quiet restraint of the instrumentation.
And of course, the lyrics:
It’s not open to discussion anymore
She’s out again tonight and I’m alone once more
She’s all I have worth waiting for
But baby plays around
And so it seems I’ve always been the last to know
To hold on to that girl, I had to let her go
I wish to God I didn’t love her so
‘Cos baby plays around
I try to be strong hold on to my pride
She doesn’t even know it’s wrong, how much
I hurt Inside
And heaven knows I’ve tried
But baby plays around. just a plaything
It’s hard to reconcile the facts I’m facing
It’s not open to discussion anymore
She walks those shiny streets
I walk the worn out floor
She’s all I have worth living for
Baby plays, baby plays around
This is one of the sweetest love songs I’ve ever heard. Bloom’s quavering, heartfelt vocals, the guitar attack, and some wonderful lyrics:
Full of daydreams and cliches to please you
I’m such a novice at this
Forgive me, forgive me
To me, that perfectly sums up the uncertainty and insecurity of being in love and attempting to express it.
And of course, the lyrics:
You play safe
You loose the game
You keep your secrets
I wanna fly on a high trapeze
I get dizzy off my knees
Hope there is a dove waiting to fly with me
Because I know that shelf’s no place for me to be
Sometimes
Stranger to a kiss
Sometimes
Delirious
I played hide and seek and found you
I brought a small bouquet to give you
Full of daydreams and cliches to please you
I’m such a novice at this
Forgive me, forgive me
Sometimes
Stranger to a kiss
Sometimes
Delirious
Sometimes
Stranger to a kiss
Sometimes
Delirious, delirious
I’ll try a little harder every day, every day
To take in what you say to me
To give you what you want me to
To love you like I should do
Sometimes
Stranger to a kiss
Sometimes
Delirious
Sometimes
Stranger to a kiss
Sometimes
Delirious, delirious ..
Episode of Blonde is a fascinating, audio assault. You have Elvis’s manic vocals, the interjection of the horns, the wobbly feel of the entire song, and it all adds up to a great song, seemingly about dropping out of the limelight and choosing not to play the fame game because you’ve done it before and you’re tired. That’s my current interpretation, but I’m sure there are other opinions and I’d love to hear them.
And of course, the lyrics:
I spy for the “Spirit of Curiosity”
All the scandals of each vain monstrosity
I gossip and I pry and I insinuate
If the failure is great
Then it tends to fascinate
A tornado dropped a funnel cloud with twenty tons of rain
Though she had the attention span of warm cellophane
Her lovers fell like Skittles in a 10-pin bowling lane
But nothing could compare with the explosion of fame
So you jumped back with alarm
Every Elvis has his army
Every rattlesnake its charm
Can you still hear me?
Am I coming through just fine?
Your memory was buried in simple box of pine
Chorus:
Did her green eyes seduce you and make you get so weak?
Was there fire engine red that she left upon your cheek?
It’s such a shame you had to break the heart you could have counted on
But the last thing you need is another episode of blonde
Revolving like a jeweller’s figure on a music box
Spangled curtain parted and night-club scene unlocks
Pinned and fixed and fastened in a follow spot
Arms thrown out to everyone, she’s giving all she’s got
To the last gasp of a wounded bandeon
A tiny man imploring to the ceiling fan this stolen feeling
Amplified up through a busted speaker
Blaring, blasting, advertising, distorted beyond reason
Into the street where petty crime-coats shadow panic drunkards
Half out of the taxi-cab the barker seized my elbow
He thought I was another lonely, likely pilgrim looking for St. Telmo
(Repeat Chorus)
I tried to keep a straight face but you know it never pays
He would stare into those eyes and then vacation in her gaze
She was a cute little ruin that he pulled out of the rubble
Now they’re both living in a soft soap bubble
The film producer’s contemplating, entertaining suicide
The picture crumpled in his fist, his runaway child bride
The timepiece stretched across his wrist
She couldn’t care less cast aside
The scent that so repelled him that he swore: “insecticide”
And there’s farewell note to mother
That will conclude “Your loving Son”
“Oh, tell your other children not to do as I have done”
Did her green eyes seduce you and make you get so weak?
Or was there fire engine red that she left upon your cheek?
It’s such a shame
It’s such a shame, shame, shame
A shame you had to break the heart you could have counted on
But the last thing you need
It’s the last thing you want
Is another episode of blonde
It’s another episode of blonde, oh oh oh
It’s another episode of blonde
So an artist drags a toothbrush across the first thing that he sees
And names the painting “Christ’s Last Exit into Purgatory”
Receiving secret messages from an alien intelligence
Paying off his stalker it’s a legitimate expense
So paste up pictures of those shrill and hollow girls with puckered lips
She’s a trophy on your arm, a magnet for your money clip
The moral of this story is a sorry tale to say
They’re pieced with links of chains so they can never run away
Spooky Girlfriend is one of my favorite post-Attractions Elvis Costello songs. It’s just a cool tune with some fun lyrics and wordplay, and really, what else would you expect from Elvis Costello? There’s a mild sense of disdain, but otherwise it seems to just be a song that sounds good and that you can sing along to (doo doo doo doo-da-doo-doo-doo).
And of course, the lyrics:
I want a girl to make a mess
To do no wrong she must confess
And then perhaps hitch up her dress
‘Cos when the flashbulbs explode
She’s such a sensitive soul…
I want a girl who is helpless and frail
Who won’t pull on my ponytail
I want a girl who has no past
She’s made up now
But that won’t last
‘Cos when she sits on my knee
And then she whispers to me
“Can’t you see
I could be
I could be
Your spooky girlfriend…”
The broken toys are scattered in the attic
Newspapers play with the words of the fanatic
And the greeting cards are your most poetic lyric
And the flat champagne is sweet sugar syrup
I want to paint you with glitter and with dirt
Picture you with innocence and hurt
The shutter closes
Exposes the shot
She says, “Are you looking up my skirt?”
When you say “No”
She says “Why not?”
I want a girl to turn my screw
To wind my watch, to buckle my shoe
And if she won’t, her mother will do
‘Cos when she does as she’s told
We’ll all turn platinum and gold
But when she sits on my knee
I hear her whispers to me
“Can’t you see?”
“I could be your spooky girlfriend”
Two Of Us is both a sweet and a bittersweet song for several reasons:
- It was one of the last times we heard Paul McCartney and John Lennon sing in harmony
- It’s a very sweet, heartfelt song. Initially written for Linda Eastmann (or was she McCartney by then?), it actually serves as sort of a tribute to John Lennon
- It’s cheerful and wistful at the same time–it sounds like a song about an everlasting friendship, but ultimately you can tell it’s a goodbye song as well.
One way or the other, it’s a great song.
Here’s some information/speculation from the usual suspects:
Here’s a link to a clip from Let It Be
And of course, the lyrics:
Two of us riding nowhere
Spending someone’s
Hard earned pay
Two of us Sunday driving
Not arriving
On our way back home
We’re on our way home
We’re on our way home
We’re going home
Two of us sending postcards
Writing letters
On my wall
You and me burning matches
Lifting latches
On our way back home
We’re on our way home
We’re on our way home
We’re going home
You and I have memories
Longer than the road that stretches out ahead
Two of us wearing raincoats
Standing so low
In the sun
You and me chasing paper
Getting nowhere
On our way back home
We’re on our way home
We’re on our way home
We’re going home
(Repeat bridge & last verse)
Many of you likely remember The The, who somehow got lumped into the “glum rock” genre, and are probably best known these days for a TV commercial for Dockers (I swear, every day I turn around and find another old song that I love turned into a commercial theme).
Anyway, this particular song is from (what I believe is) their best selling album (I really should say his, since it’s one guy) Infected. It’s pretty much a thematic album dealing with themes of spirituality, the descent into despair and darkness, and ultimately redemption. This is the last song on the album (really, I do recommend it. It’s not a bunch of laughs, but the music is good and the lyrics are thoughtful), about someone who has decided to face his demons directly. Some excellent lyrics; a couple of my favorites:
One day I asked the angels for inspiration
The Devil bought me a drink
He’s been buying them ever since
and
I’m gonna have little Lucifer running off to purgatory
With his tail between his legs
I’m gonna teach him a lesson he ain’t never gonna forget
All the vultures and crows are fixing up some tombstones
They won’t be chewing the meat off my bones
There’s a high wind blowing
And the stars are shining bright
Me and him are gonna have a little knife fight
Under the bowels of the big city skyline
Really, it’s just a great song, and in some ways I could even call it inspirational.
Here’s a link to the video (By the way, this was an interesting experiment at the time as there’s a music video for each song on the album, as well as a thematic underpinning)
And of course, the lyrics:
Theres a high wind blowin, and the stars are shining bright,
Oh what a night, this is gonna be–
I think Ill let the world sleep without me.
I got one eye open, one eye closed.
and my thin bodys trembling beneath the bedclothes,
My hearts beatin against the roof of my mouth
–its almost time to get out of this house.
I got one hand on the radio, one hand on the wheel,
I got my right foot on the floorboard,–
and Im preparing to kill or be killed.
Theres a high wind blowin, and the stars are shining bright.
and the rain upon the tarmac,
–helps me sail through the traffic lights,
Im heading down to the dock of the bay,
–to feel the power of the waves,
Im gonna move up close to that wind,
and wrestle with the thoughts solitude always brings.
Ysee Im stuck between hell and the deep blue sea,
and I know that waters sucked under better man than me,
I was just another western guy,
–with desires that couldnt be satisfied,
So one day, I asked the angels for inspiration,
–but the devil bought me a drink,
and hes been buying them ever since,
Hes had the liquor on my tongue
–feel like the sea upon the sand,
Hes had me signing confessions
–from this shaking hand,
Hes had me struggling to hang onto hope–
Like a drunken sailor in a tugboat
With a bottle of vodka in my overcoat,
and my dog eared Bible lost–overboard
Ysee he tricked me into temptation,
So Ive tricked him into this confrontation,
I never said I was the man I appeared to be
Not the flesh wrapped around the bones of necessity.
Or the soul on fire–scribbling thoughts for posterity.
Im gonna have little lucifer, runnin off to purgatory,
–with his tail between his legs,
Im gonna teach him a lesson
–he aint ever gonna forget.
All the vultures and crows are fixin up some tombstones
But they wont be chewing the meat off my bones.
Theres a high wind blowin and the stars are shining bright.
Me and him are gonna have a little knife fight,
–in the bowels of the big city skyline,
Oh this feelin inside runs dark and deep
–tonight my hearts not thumping
–a mercy beat
I was just another western guy,
With desires that couldnt be–satisfied.
I’ve long thought this was one of the most underrated of all Beatles songs. It’s not one that pops up on radio very often, yet I enjoy it immensely every time I hear it. Perhaps it’s because it was on the most depressing Beatles album (Let It Be) or perhaps it simply brings negative feelings out of people. I don’t know, but I love it.
If what Wikipedia says is true, the song is actually two different songs that counterpoint one another, and it works very nicely. McCartney’s I’ve Got a Feeling is a very upbeat dedication to Linda Eastman, whereas Lennon’s Everybody Had A Good Year is sort of a somber look into his personal unhappiness in that period of his life. It still works beautifully–Paul McCartney’s powerful, joyful vocals juxtaposed against John Lennon’s darker, cynical tones really sets the song off nicely.
And of course, the lyrics:
I’ve got a feeling, a feeling deep inside
Oh yeah, Oh yeah. (that’s right.)
I’ve got a feeling, a feeling I can’t hide
Oh no. no. Oh no! Oh no.
Yeah! Yeah! I’ve got a feeling. Yeah!
Oh please believe me, I’d hate to miss the train
Oh yeah, yeah, oh yeah.
And if you leave me I won’t be late again
Oh no, oh no, oh no.
Yeah Yeah I’ve got a feeling, yeah.
I got a feeling.
All these years I’ve been wandering around,
Wondering how come nobody told me
All that I was looking for was somebody
Who looked like you.
I’ve got a feeling that keeps me on my toes
Oh yeah, Oh yeah.
I’ve got a feeling, I think that everybody knows.
Oh yeah, Oh yeah, Oh yeah.
Yeah! Yeah! I’ve got a feeling. Yeah!
Ev’rybody had a hard year.
Ev’rybody had a good time.
Ev’rybody had a wet dream.
Ev’rybody saw the sunshine.
Oh yeah, Oh yeah. Oh Yeah.
Ev’rybody had a good year.
Ev’rybody let their hair down.
Ev’rybody pulled their socks up. (yeah.)
Ev’rybody put their foot down.
Oh yeah. Yeah! WOOOOHOO!
[Oh my soul…it’s so hard.]