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Rebel Waltz isn’t one of the best known Clash songs, but it is a really good one. From the Sandinista! album (which I personally think is better than London Calling), it’s an odd tune by the Clash, a 3/4 waltz. It’s got a gorgeous, seemingly ethereal mood, describing what is likely the last night of a group of rebels in some war. From Rock and Roll Meandering Nonsense:

“Rebel Waltz” is a forgotten song on the Clash’s forgotten Sandinista album. As the title says, it is a waltz, but with an edge. I’m not sure what war this involves or even if that’s important, but the lyrics describe the resolve in a rebel army before (or perhaps after) a battle they cannot (or did not) win. There is a surreal sense to “Rebel Waltz” that suggests that the scene may actually follow the battle in which the rebels were slaughtered. At any rate, the song shows that the Clash can be a powerful band even on low-key songs. Even their waltz is for rebels.

Anyway, it’s a beautiful and haunting song, and it is slightly forgotten, which is a shame.

You can listen to the song below:

And of course, the lyrics:

I slept and I dreamed of a time long ago
I saw an army of rebels, dancing on air
I dreamed as I slept, I could see the campfires,
A song of the battle, that was born in the flames,
and the rebels were waltzing on air.

As the smoke of our hopes rose high from the field
My eyes played tricks through the moon and the trees
I slept as I dreamed I saw the army rise
A voice began to call, stand till you fall
The tune was an old rebel one.

Ah, the irrepressible Bootsy Collins. Where to begin?

As a child, I did not like that “race music”. I found it (and still find the vast majority of it) boring, repetitive, close-minded, and I just didn’t like the way it sounded. Then I heard Bootsy…

Bootsy was fun. Bootsy was silly. Bootsy was really, really cool. And Bootsy can definitely play some bass. But don’t just take my word for it. From Rolling Stone:

Bootsy’s Rubber Band has about as much intellectual content as a Saturday morning cartoon show, which really doesn’t separate it from most other funk and grind bands (or power-rock groups). What makes Bootsy stand out is a low-grade, comic-book sense of humor that producer George Clinton is able to fuse with some of the most lyrical post-James Brown funk this side of Parliament/Funkadelic. In fact, it’s impossible to mention Bootsy Collins without bringing up Parliament/Funkadelic, the band Bootsy has helped shape since his departure from James Brown.

If that isn’t a good reason to like a performer, I don’t know what is.

Mind you, it wouldn’t matter if the music weren’t any good. Thankfully such is not the case. What’s a Telephone Bill? is actually sort of a nice romantic sentiment–until you realize how incredibly silly and funny the song is. Bootsy’s spoken word delivery is way over the top, and his asides are reminiscent of Popeye’s from the 1930’s black and white cartoons. Plus, even if you take Bootsy out of the equation, it’s still a damned good song. In fact, it would quickly end up on the “music to get laid to” mix CD.

Here’s a link to a tribute video

And of course, the lyrics:

Hello baby
Yes, it’s your friendly phone fanatic again
Oh yeah I’m loaded
With verbal rap ability, baby
You know you inspire me to poetry
So listen while I recite naughty nothings
That’ll wet your eardrums

Maybe I’ll manicure your toenails
And uh, make sweet love to you baby!
Rub my body with yours
Wait a minute operator, I’m not talking to you!

This song screamed “one-hit-wonder” from the first time I heard it. That doesn’t mean it’s a bad song–I wouldnt’ be writing about it if I felt it was–but it does have that feel and appeal. I love the strange percussion–I believe that one of the instruments the drummer is playing is a frying pan–and the oddness of Stanard Ridgway’s vocals. Also, it’s a great sing-along song as well.

From Wikipedia:

Wall of Voodoo vocalist Stan Ridgway and guitarist Marc Moreland traced the inspiration for the song to listening to high-wattage unregulated AM border-blaster Mexican radio stations (among them XERF, XEG, and XERB) which, starting circa the 1930s, were received practically around the globe (”I turn the switch and check the number / I leave it on when in bed I slumber”). Some of the stations boasted a million watts, which was 20 times higher than allowed in the US.

Sitting just south of the Rio Grande (”I feel a hot wind on my shoulder / I dial it in from south of the border”), these stations avoided American broadcast and trade regulations, and became the medium of favor for countless quacks spouting political rants (”I dial it in and tune the station / They talk about the U.S. inflation”), selling homemade pharmaceuticals pre-FDA (”… I buy the product and never use it”), self-published manifestos, and may have even been the starting point for Televangelism as we know it. Wolfman Jack started his career in that market, spinning a schizophrenic mix of genres.

Here’s a link to the video

And of course, the lyrics:

I feel a hot wind on my shoulder
And the touch of a world that is older
I turn the switch and check the number
I leave it on when in bed I slumber
I hear the rhythms of the music
I buy the product and never use it
I hear the talking of the DJ
Can’t understand, just what does he say?

Radio, radio, radio, radio, radio, radio, radio…
(What does he say?)

I love it when there’s tons of information about a song and you don’t have to listen to me blather on about how fun it is, or how it’s got a good beat and you can dance to it.

Tales Of Brave Ulysses is one of those classic songs that thankfully has reams written about it, but there’s not a whole lot you really need to know about the song–other than that it rocks! And rocking is good.

At the same time, the song has some cool, evocative lyrics and a really nice chord progression. The story behind the song and the lyrics can be found at Wikipedia:

The lyrics are inspired by Homer’s Odyssey, an account of the adventures undertaken by Ulysses. This can be seen in the song’s reference to “naked ears … tortured by the sirens sweetly singing,” an event from Homer’s epic. When interviewed on the episode of the VH1 show, Classic Albums, which featured Disraeli Gears, lyricist Martin Sharp explained that he had recently returned from Ibiza, which was the source of many of the images in the song (e.g. “tiny purple fishes run laughing through her fingers”) and the general feeling of having left an idyll to return to “the hard lands of the winter”; Clapton stated in the same show that he had been independently writing a tune based on the Loving Spoonful’s “Summer in the City”, and when Sharp gave him the words (on the back of a bar napkin) they fit the tune.

As a special treat, I give you not one, not two, but three different links to videos:

• Here’s a link to a tribute video
• Here’s a link to a live performance from the 1960’s
• And here’s a link to a reunion tour from a couple of years ago

And of course, the lyrics:

You thought the leaden winter would bring you down forever,
But you rode upon a steamer to the violence of the sun.

The tiny purple fishes run lauging through your fingers,
And you want to take her with you to the hard land of the winter.

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

(chorus)

Delia’s Gone is in many ways a typical Johnny Cash song, full of black humor and regret. In the hands of another singer, this song could be absolutely brutally painful, or woefully plastic. In Cash’s capable hands, it’s a masterpiece.

Johnny Cash brings a grim tongue in cheek quality to this song, in many ways a counterpoint to Robert Johnson’s 32-20 Blues. However, he manages to avoid the manic insanity of Johnson’s tune, with a little more regret and a little more anger. In many ways, he makes this song about killing someone more or less palatable.

Here’s a link to the video

And of course, the lyrics:

Delia, oh, Delia Delia all my life
If I hadn’t have shot poor
Delia I’d have had her for my wife
Delia’s gone, one more round Delia’s gone

So if you woman’s devilish
You can let her run
Or you can bring her down and do her
Like Delia got done
Delia’s gone, one more round Delia’s gone

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.

Here’s a link to the video

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.

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.)

That’s right. I said it. Rap. Subterranean Homesick Blues is a rap song. Deal with it.

Oh, and Subterranean Homesick Blues is a great rap song. A great song period. There’s shedloads of info about it on Wikipedia. It’s a good read.

Personally, I love the song for it’s feel and shape, and for the very interesting lyrics. In fact, if I were the sort of pretentious internet blogging types who like to analyze lyrics endlessly and toss out pompous words like “zeitgest”, I would do just that.

Ah, what the hey? Just take these with a grain of salt, as I’m really doing them off the top of my head.

The first four lines of the first verse apparently refer to LSD, at least according to the Wikipedia article.

I believe the next four lines refer to what was once known as the “blue flu”, a phrase I haven’t heard in a long time. Because police were not allowed to strike by law, instead all of the officers would call in sick at the same time, there way of protesting for higher wages.

I believe that the “ducking down the alley” line is a reference to soliciting a male prostitute.

Sadly, no good idea about the man in the coonskin cap.

I believe the first eight lines from verse number two refer to the widespread belief (and possible truth) about the FBI wiretapping pretty much anyone they felt like for whatever reason.

The rest of the verse refers to a handful of different things. The fire hose line is easily a reference to the civil rights movement and the use of fire hoses to dispel peaceful demonstrations. The references to keeping a clean nose and watching the plainclothes likely have more to do with police entrapment than cocaine, and I imagine the ‘No Doz” reference is about amphetamines. Finally, I didn’t realize that the Weathermen took their cue from Dylan and not vice versa, but there you go.

Other than the parking meters possibly being a reference to Cool Hand Luke, I don’t have a good idea as to what most of the third verse is about.

The first part of the fourth verse is sort of a story of life sort of thing, with bitter discontent about some of the realities of being a scholar. The rest deals with the idea that going underground is the best way of life–although that’s said somewhat tongue-in-cheek as well.

Okay, enough of me blathering. Please feel free to add your own opinions. Here’s a link to the famous D.A. Pennebaker film clip

And of course, the lyrics:

Johnny’s in the basement
Mixing up the medicine
I’m on the pavement
Thinking about the government
The man in the trench coat
Badge out, laid off
Says he’s got a bad cough
Wants to get it paid off
Look out kid
It’s somethin’ you did
God knows when
But you’re doin’ it again
You better duck down the alley way
Lookin’ for a new friend
The man in the coon-skin cap
In the big pen
Wants eleven dollar bills
You only got ten

Ah get born, keep warm
Short pants, romance, learn to dance
Get dressed, get blessed
Try to be a success
Please her, please him, buy gifts
Don’t steal, don’t lift
Twenty years of schoolin’
And they put you on the day shift
Look out kid
They keep it all hid
Better jump down a manhole
Light yourself a candle
Don’t wear sandals
Try to avoid the scandals
Don’t wanna be a bum
You better chew gum
The pump don’t work
‘Cause the vandals took the handles

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).

Here’s a link to the video

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]
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]

I’ve always enjoyed LL Cool J. While he’s best known for his boisterous, boasting style rap, for me it’s generally been the quieter, more low-key tunes where he really shines. This is one of those songs.

The smooth jazz style of Going Back To Cali really set the song apart back when it first came out. Additionally, LL’s quietly understated rap gives a great feeling of a laid back fish out of water. The sax vs. the pounding 808 also works nicely too.

Here’s a link to the video

And of course, the lyrics:

I’m going back to Cali, Cali, Cali
I’m going back to Cali.. hmm, I don’t think so
I’m going back to Cali, Cali, Cali
I’m going back to Cali.. I don’t think so

[saxophone solo]