John Cale & Brian Eno ‘Spinning Away’ – The impossibility of living in the moment

You know how you sometimes have a favourite album from an artist but weirdly know nothing about the rest of their discography? I adore “Songs for Drella” by John Cale and Lou Reed, it’s absolutely gorgeous and the perfect amalgament of experimental music and pop music. But when “Spinning Away” graced the outro of an episode of “Loot”, I was surprised and humbled that it was a collab between Brian Eno and John Cale (I actually initially wondered if this was a song from Nation of Language I didn’t know, even though the lack of crystal-clear synths should have been a dead give-away that it wasn’t them).

Also, is it an issue that I get about 60-70% of my music discoveries from tv show and movie soundtracks? Yes, probably, life passes me by as I sit in front of the big or small screen. But this brings me exactly to the point of this song – which is a gorgeous song, a lovely, moving, beautiful ode to the world.

“Spinning away” is from the 1990 collaborative studio album “Wrong way up” (which I need to get immediately) by Brian Eno and John Cale.

This song is about artistry but not the artistry of writing songs or making music but instead of painting the world around you while you’re outside and how with every second passing, the world changes, the sky changes, and the pencil “moving further out in time” can barely catch up, can only ever grasp the memories and whatever it draws, its inspiration has already moved further, grown estranged from the painting. (I wonder if this song was mainly written by Eno, who is the more prolific painter of the two)

And then you have the whole structure of the song. It starts with this slightly off-beat beat, then a guitar and then other instruments join, almost like the sounds you hear in nature, how they accumulate the longer you’re sitting somewhere far away from cars and airplanes and other people. First, you think it’s absolutely quiet and then slowly you hear the birds, the insects, the wind and the leaves and they all sing together.

Oh, and then – and this is where this song can bring me to tears, the violins join in with the vocals, and you can almost see the sunny sky turning into a dark blue, stars piercing through and how the sounds of the day get replaced by the different sounds of the night because the symphony of day never stays the same.

“On a hill, under a raven sky, I have no idea exactly what I’ve drawn, some kind of change, some kind of spinning away” – because the world is spinning and so time is spinning.

Even though I risk sounding a little too whistful, that’s life in general, isn’t it? How often do we hear that we need to live in the moment when it’s barely possible to remember the past.

Things happen, and they happen so fast, whether good or bad, they wash over you and then suddenly someone’s gone and you can barely remember how it happened and you can barely trace the last memory you have of them, already, life pushes you forward again and so you see things change, and grow and leave and die and it’s all like looking out the window of a train or a car, hardly ever do you have the time to nudge whoever sits next to you and whisper “look, horses”.

But sometimes, in rare moments – and these will be happy and painful, so deeply painful both when you live them and when you remember them – you’re able to stop, take everything in, breathe, and know that this moment will pass so fast that it will almost feel like it never happened.

Gossip ‘Act of God’ is your manic pixie dream bop

Look, I’d love to write about the whole new Gossip album that some of us waited 12 years for but what am I to do if the opener is such a strong start that I can’t even listen any further, it’s now on repeat to burn itself into my memory, so I can start dreaming about it (which I tend to do, anyone else?).

The absolutely gorgeous and weirdly not very common magic of “Act of God” is that it sounds like a cover from a 50s Motown bop. It has all the yearning, the pathos, the heartbreak and did I mention the yearning? But then it basically drove this cute little bop into the fight cage from Mad Max and so it flickers at the edges, is a little too sharp, too crass, too violent to stay in that sweet, smooth Motown corner.

I am honestly a little awed at how Gossip managed to do this but then again, this feels so much like this band’s brand that it seems natural as well (and yes, I can tell you that the second song on the album is a completely different beast, so this is not even a glimpse of what the entire album has to offer).

The song itself is about that bittersweet feeling of all-encompassing love for someone mingled with some anxiety or doubt that the other person might not feel as fiery anymore. The titular “act of god” is the beating of the heart which is a lovely sentiment, as it can mean different things, like the ongoing love the narrator has for their loved one or the fact that the heart is not yet broken (which would maybe, metaphorically stop the heartbeats).

And although I used the word “manic” to describe the song, the lyrics state that the narrator is not “losing control” but instead a piece of their soul. Now, digging deep into my literary academic past, I’d interpret this as someone who is aware of their love and the potential heartbreak but doesn’t see any of their feelings as out of control even though they feel the pain. It’s a nice contrast to the many songs about (unrequited) love that have the narrator tear out their hair and do awful (creepy) things.

I also love the irony of the lyrics vs. the absolutely wild intensity of the music which might hint at some sort of loss of control after all but who am I to judge.

Ducks Ltd – “Harm’s Way” puts the Spring in your step

I am not too much on the nostalgia train which mainly has to do with the fact that I dared to rewatch and relisten to a lot of things I thoroughly enjoyed as a kid and realized that some things work in their little time bubble and not so much outside of it. Not to open a big wasp’s nest but have you watched the original Ghostbuster movies? They are not that funny, to be honest!

However, there has been one thing that was true then and that is true now and that’s the un-refutable fact that Polaris, the one-off band dedicated to providing a soundtrack to the short-lived but amazing Nickelodeon series “The Adventures of Pete & Pete”, has created one of the best albums to ever grace the 90s. 

It’s a gorgeous, picture-perfect album that felt like lightning in a bottle, a reprieve from teenage angst. 

Well, the new album by Ducks Ltd tells me two things: 

1. Nothing is truly unique
2. Thank god, because that way, you don’t have only that one thing to enjoy for the rest of your life but can discover something that makes you feel just like you did when you first heard “Hey Sandy”

“Harm’s Way” is a lovely album. Its release date feels both fitting and like a betrayal because it sounds so summery and light that it clashes with the grey oppressive Berlin Winter that I am currently suffering through. 

Ducks Ltd are from Canada, they consist of two people (Tom McGreevy and Evan Lewis) and “Harm’s Way” is their second album. Music journalists call their music “jangle pop” which I immediately want to throw in the river because “jangle pop” sounds like whatever a brass orchestra that only is made up of clowns sounds like and not this airy breeze of melodic joy. 

It is the kind of album that merrily flows like a little mountain river, it has those very catchy but not overpowering choruses that you’ll hum and that make you a little happier. Given the strength of the guitar and bass arrangements, this feels like the cheery cousin to any Smiths album. It’s so strong on melody and just “mood” but instead of mopey dreariness (which is not criticism but Smith praise, of course), you get a tender peaceful sigh. 

Nation of Language “Weak in Your Light” makes me weak in the knees

Whereas “On Division St” basically had me in a chokehold in Summer, it was a near seamless transition to “Weak in your light” from Nation of Language’s most recent album “Strange Disciple” that held me tight in the last couple of months. I don’t know why, there’s something about this band’s songwriting that reaches right into the core of my being and draws me into a somber melancholy that I can’t escape. 

But, dear readers, “Weak in your light” is actually no reason to be melancholic at all (however, I will explain why it is after all later) because the song is a gorgeous hymn to being in love and how overwhelming this can feel. Because yes, we all love those rose-tinted glasses and the butterflies and whatnot but let’s be honest – for many of us, it’s also slightly terrifying to feel so drawn to someone that they have so much power over you to completely break you (and as science has taught us, a broken heart is not just in your head, it’s a physical ailment). 

It’s thus quite fitting that those love-infused lyrics contain phrases like “something so bright and blessed that I’m all but crushed” or “I can feel myself come undone, yet there’s more”. 

I especially love the sentiment “staring down a simple something that’ll shape my whole life” because even though we all feel like we’re the most unique special someones who experience love like no one else, we’re all just twisting, dancing snowflakes next to each other, experiencing all the same trajectory, yet occupy space and movement that no one else can take. 

But let’s also look at the lyrics in combination with the music. Oh, those lyrics would fit any genre (which often indicates amazing songwriting) but this flurry of emotions caught in the clear synth tunes, clean beats and oh so tender vocals can be an outright metaphor how we’re seemingly fully functioning human beings interacting with others, doing chores, going to work, making dinner while all our thoughts are caught up with this other human being, circling around every single word and gesture of theirs. A tornado contained in a beautiful porcelain vase, in a way. 

Oh, but where’s the melancholy in that? Alas, it cannot last. To forever be bound in those throes of love would probably cause us to loose our minds. So aside from someone experiencing this for the first time, most of us know that these feelings are to be cherished and savoured because they will be replaced – not necessarily by something worse, mind, because after these debilitating tendrils of desire lies the tender embrace of companionship and comfort.  

Royal Thunder Rebuilding the Mountain’ – Back with a vengeance

I love that Royal Thunder – who can raise hell if they want to – start their new album “Rebuilding the Mountain” with a slow beast of a song that sluggishly wanders into a stagger and finishes off in a run. It gives you a glimpse into why this band is one of the best metal bands out there: you never know what will happen, you’re being brought along a dark, slightly witchy ride that can veer into hallucinatory landscapes but never really lets go of you.

After the apparent end of the band a few years ago, Royal Thunder are back as a trio. There have been hard times and some things take longer to heal than others.  But “Rebuilding the Mountain” seems to be less about a clear-cut change but rather the process, the push and pull that goes with a going forward, going through and the many ugly things that show up and go away and show up again.

The magic that Parsons brings to her singing and almost like a gift, her vocals are much more front and center in this album than they have been previously, is the rawness, the authenticity and willingness to go places that can hurt and can be a little too vulnerable (on that note, I recommend this great interview that Parsons did with Big Takeover).

It’s why I always felt like Royal Thunder had a nearly spiritual edge to it that was able to swallow me whole and leave me swirling until the last note. Combined with the incredibly percussions and melodic familiarity to psychedelic/prog bands, “Rebuilding the Mountain” is as modern as it gets by showing its roots.

The Last Dinner Party – Sinner (music industry sins and more)

I am absolutely obsessed how “Sinner” combines Abba, Florence and the Machine and the bonkers chaotic Sparks in one single, magical bop that feels both like it came out of the 2nd Britpop wave of the early 2000s and like something that could only have been conjured up in these pre-apocalyptic times. 

I initially only wanted to write about this song and how it feels so luscious and generous but also fun and light but then I listened to their EP “On your side” and (fae) folks, “My Lady of Mercy” is a math pop whirlwind, I am in love because it starts like a little nerdy song but then it falls down, arches its back and out of its torso bursts a 80s goth metal chorus that has to be heard to be believed. This song is shorter than 3 minutes and feels like an entire rock opera. 

Now, there is a little bit of juicy gossip surrounding this band, specifically their rocket-like ascend in all music media. They actually supported the Rolling Stones last year, even though they had not even released a full LP (let alone more than a few singles) yet. 

My blog often features the whole range of pop – from massive stars like Miley Cyrus to indie darlings like The Black Tones. So I am not discriminating a band that got probably a major push from a big label. 

However, back in my youth (when I dropped the necklace in the ocean), when I worked for a local radio station, it severely miffed me how much money was wasted in producing polished high-quality material, promo parties, and other bullshit to push a specific music act when all that money could have gone into supporting a wider range and number of artists. 

That’s not to say that we can’t enjoy this kind of music because honestly, I like their music a lot and I will look forward to their album. 

Favourite Song: Yeah Yeah Yeahs ft. Perfume Genius – Spitting off the edge of the world

I am a sucker for indie pop that has a lazy yet melancholic vibe. The Yeah Yeah Yeahs can nail these lazy, hazy epitaphs to the world and to relationships and whatever else has to say goodbye at some point, when they’re not busy ripping out our bones and guts with their manic dancefloor bangers.

“Spitting off the edge of the world” is the intro song to the long awaited 2022 album “Cool it down” and features Perfume Genius who along with Karen O and some gorgeously sluggish drums mourn the state of the world. According to Karen O, the song is about … climate change, I guess.

“I see the younger generations staring down this threat, and they’re standing on the edge of a precipice, confronting what’s coming with anger and defiance. It’s galvanizing, and there’s hope there.” (Source)

The Genius user interpretations are a little too literal (for my tastes) based on the quote by Karen but that’s because I am big on whatever my head visualizes when I listen to a song, so I wondered about the weird beauty of the end times that is also described in the song and that is somewhat reflected in the entire mood of the song, which feels sluggish, yes, but also grand and epic, a gold-bleeding sunrise that’s about to bring a deadly day.

And so, “Cowards, here’s the sun, so bow your heads” turns into a massive desert landscape, full of red mountains to spit off from, the vast nothingness that feels like the end of the world and high above, this giant, merciless god hanging over our heads.

I’ve read that many astronauts who’ve been to space and saw earth felt a distinct melancholy because they realized, how small and fragile all life on earth really is and how wreckless we treat it. And still, at least for me, there is also something soothing about the thought that we are not everything there is, that there are planets and suns and universes and galaxies that will surpass us, that are eternal like gods compared to the finality of our lives.  

Favourite Song: Belle and Sebastian – Lazy Line Painter Jane

I like Belle and Sebastian because their discography surely has something for every indie fan out there. However, the one song that brings me to my knees owes it all to Monica Queen from Thrum, whose Neko Case/Dolly Parton-strong country vocals really put a firework of yearning behind the song that talks about a woman with a normal life who strives for something more, something special and magical but fails to make her dreams reality and instead is stuck in a life full of wants. 

However, sometimes, wanting something with all your heart, can only conjure up the dream of change, not always the actual thing. Is it a life worth less, if it is filled with dreams that (never) could have been? 

The Black Tones forecast „The End of Everything“

I can’t even fully describe how it feels to hear those first, high, off-key notes of “The End of Everything”, before all hell breaks loose and Eva Walker starts to sing “My name is Jesus and I came to fuck shit up” and a feeling of indestructible yet angsty youthful hubris hits you right in the face. The Black Tones absolutely epic single reminds of the bolsterous, loud and pathos-filled 90s, the Jane Addictions and Soundgardens that were oh so alternative but also always sounded like they should be playing in the biggest arenas in front of the entire universe.

According to an interview with American Songwriter, writer Eva Walker felt depressed and exhausted at the beginning of the pandemic due to many, honestly, too many reasons. The political environment surrounding and causing George Floyd’s murder as well as Walker’s own grief over the loss of her father poured into a song that does not aim to mock religion but instead puts the focus on who is front and center of god’s goodwill or wrath but who will also be left when the end is neigh: little ol us.

Whether we want to speed things up to get to the mighty apocalypse that will doom humanity eventually or whether we want to infuse those last days and years with goodness is not up to Jesus, Buddha or Allah – it’s up to us. Did we ask for it? Heck no, but sometimes you have to deal with the cards you’ve been given.

What I love about the song is that the reasons for its creation might have been full of sadness and grief but the song itself sounds defiant and angry, the kind of angry that – to quote from the only good season of “American Gods”: “gets shit done“.

Orville Peck “Dead of Night” – Roy Orbison gently weeps tears of joy

You might have heard of Orville Peck, if you’ve seen him in his amazing country getup, you definitely will remember the anonymous troubadour who is doing what SIA did but with country fringe/tassel instead of his actual fringe.

However, you might also remember him because that voice is something you can’t really get out of your mind. Roy Orbison would be proud and I am quite sure that Glenn Danzig is also a secret fan (and wishes he could pull off that look).

“Dead of Night” is a gorgeous timeless love song about a steamy summer in Carson City and the memories of it. Ok, if you’re boring you can also interpret it as two pals palling around like pals do, but come on, “Six summers down, another dreamless night, you’re not by my side” would sound romantic even in the pal-iest circumstances.

Peck is a fascinating musician, because anonymity in this day and age is almost impossible (and if you dig just a little, Wikipedia will spoil all the mystery) but to keep it up despite the fact is an artistic decision that fits incredibly well with the musical style which skips between classic and more powerful alt-infused modern country music. Peck’s vocals are front and center because that man has RANGE! But there’s also a genius way how he composes his songs and mixes up different genres and influences. Despite him saying in interviews that he has no idea what he’s doing, everything feels like delicate needlepoint work with no note, no word or sound out of place. He’s very generous naming his influences which range from Dolly Parton (d’uh) to Whitney Houston and John Waters.

I think “Dead of Night” made such a big splash a few years ago, because it has this very epic, big pathos mixed with a melancholy and loneliness that is very reminiscent to the 50s and 60s when so many love songs had this underlying sadness and feeling of loss and fleeting moments.

Funnily enough, Yola’s “Faraway Look” is the perfect sibling to this song because it also feels like straight out of the 50s/60s but instead plays into the dreamy prom clouds of teenage hopefulness.