Cold Fade

The End of the Song is Just the Beginning

[coldfade]

Half Moon Run  ‘I Can’t Figure Out What’s Going On’

Dear Mike…

Sorry that Cold Fade faded away for a little while Mike. Life does have a tendency to get in the way of enjoying the simpler things in life like just sitting around and listening to music. It was easy when we were in college – when we would literally just sit and listen to REM and The Beastie Boys and U2 with reckless abandon and talk about what we heard as if it was the most important things in the world. Because at that time, it was! And it can be again. I just regret not continuing to do that on a regular basis.

I still love seeking out new music (and new music to me) by accident. NPR, CBC, Google Play, Spotify. How did we do this before the Internet? – says the career broadcasting-guy! Sure, I still turn on the radio when I drive to work hoping to hear something that will beg me to turn it up. It doesn’t happen as often as I would like it to though. Thankfully, Serena Ryder’s ‘Got Your Number’ did just that for me during the summer of 2016.

Also, I’m fortunate I have a job that allows me to listen to music while I work. And while I am plugged into some random online playlists, I will often hear something that will make me stop what I am doing, pick up a pen, and jot down the title and the artist of the song.

That happened this week with Montreal’s Half Moon Run and ‘I Can’t Figure Out What’s Going On.’

I’d heard the song before and I do remember liking it then but there was something about hearing it again that jumped back up at me. And then you called suggesting we roll out another Cold Fade. So it seemed like a natural start.

There is a melancholy-happiness to ‘I Can’t Figure Out What’s Going On.’ And that really works for me right now. There’s something warm and hypnotic about the opening guitar and the way the simple percussion kicks in seconds later. But what really catches my attention off the top is that the song sounds like it starts in the middle. It doesn’t feel like I am missing anything. It just feels like the story (whatever that story might be)… continues.

By the time the chorus kicks in, the tone changes a little and beginnings to sound a little like one of my all-time favourite songs – Liam Finn’s ‘Second Chance.’ It’s not a steal on Half Moon Run’s part. It’s just a feeling and a memory and that’s all on me.

You know Mike that one of my favourite things about any song is the build and ‘I Can’t Figure Out What’s Going On’ builds nicely. The transitions into the chorus are sly and slight… and there’s part of me that wonders if this song is ever going to explode. Then there is part of me that wonders if I want it to. I do… and for a brief moment towards the end, it does – before quickly bringing us back down to Earth.

I’ll be honest… I’m not sure what the song is trying to say to to me. But I do like this:

And what a perfect day To take what you can get And live without regret

It’s almost hopeful… even if the rest of the song might not seem so.

Ahh, to live without regret. I think I will.

—AJ

Dear AJ…

It was a shameless solicitation from Facebook, believe it or not, that actually prompted me to remember how much fun it is to collaborate with you on this blog. When Zuckerberg’s bots told me on my feed that I should think about buying some kind of ad to promote our page, I thought, “Hey, it’s time to get back to Cold Fade.”

As you say, life does indeed get kind of busy for two Dads like us. But it’s important to remember to make time for some of those things that made us the people we were long before marriages and kids and mortgages and dental coverage and doing laundry for people other than ourselves got in the way.

And of course times have certainly changed since we were in college together. Back then, when you and I were managing the campus radio station, we were fortunate enough to be able to read all the trade publications and the wider-circulation magazines that introduced us to new music. And we also had the chance to sort through dozens of records that were sent to us by the labels and distributors. That seemed to be enough to keep us on the cutting edge.

In contrast, these days there seems to be an exponentially larger number of musical acts to sort through and it’s all out there at our disposal through streaming services and YouTube and websites hosted by the tastemakers you mention. And that’s another thing that made me miss Cold Fade, as I have had so much fun digging more deeply into music that you have introduced me to, and I sense you can say the same about some of the songs I proposed to review as well.

So, on to Half Moon Run, finally! It took a few listens before the song started to grow on me. And grow on me it did. Like you, I immediately found that there was something somewhat familiar about “I Can’t Figure Out What’s Going On”. For me it didn’t evoke Liam Finn’s song, though I can see the similarities once you pointed it out. It took me a while to figure out what was going on. It hit me around about the third listen. It’s in the beat and the strings and the slightly slurred vocal performance. And the way it maintains that beat for a big chunk of time before kicking in and getting louder and a little bit faster.

You may remember back in 2014 you and I had a conversation about a song called “Red Eyes” by The War on Drugs. We talked then about that song’s loud/soft dynamic and how the “kick” deep into the track hooked both of us. Every time I hear this Half Moon Run song I think of The War on Drugs. Funny how this one song brought to mind two completely different but I think valid comparisons.

Lyrically, the song is structured in a way that I think brings focus to its title. Consider this stanza:

Time it weighs heavy on your bedroom wall

Time to rearrange the little lines I’ve drawn

Indeed, the song lyrics create a sense of confusion, with parts sounding very positive and other evoking a feeling of confusion. This works perfectly with the sonic structure of the song as well, dragging the listener through peaks and valleys of emotion.

The overall message to me seems to be yeah, I can’t figure out what’s going on, but let’s ride it out and see where it takes us, because we’re really going to enjoy the ride.

No regrets.

We should all strive to live our lives that way, shouldn’t we?

—Mike

[coldfade]

Kobra and the Lotus “Black Velvet”

MIKE: Originally released in December, 1989, "Black Velvet" reached number one on the Billboard charts in the U.S. and Canada (though it stalled at number two in the UK), earning the up-to-then-unknown Alannah Myles the Best Female Rock Vocalist Grammy Award in 1990.

AJ: Myles was doing her thing at an important time in Canadian music where she stood out as one of the incredibly strong female vocalists being played on the radio at that time. I’m also thinking about Lee Aaron, Sass Jordan, k.d. lang, Michelle Wright, Mitsou, and of course Celine Dion. Obviously not all in the same musical genre but all blazing a trail in their own right. That being said, Myles stood out for her tough sexuality and beautiful bluesy style. Plus “Black Velvet” is just a great song.

MIKE: The song was everywhere that year, and immediately began to be covered by other artists, such as country singer Robin Lee, who bore a striking yet softer resemblance to Ms. Myles. It's been a staple of the "Idol" franchises since day one, (like this and this and this) allowing singers, mostly female, to showcase the power of their pipes pretty much every year. Let's face it, a great song is a great song, no matter who sings it. 

AJ: I never really thought of it in the sense of your Idol analogy but you are right. The song allows a singer to share her (or his) range and emotion.

MIKE: "Black Velvet" deservedly made the list for Canada's Top 100 Singles. And I am sure it earned millions of dollars for songwriters Christopher Ward, of City TV and MuchMusic fame, and David Tyson. Now, almost 26 years later, comes this update of the song by Calgary-based Kobra and the Lotus.

AJ: When you first sent this to me, even before I started to listen, I asked myself… “Does the world need another cover of “Black Velvet?” (I’m still not sure.) And for that matter, I began to wonder if the song would/could weather the change of musical tastes from the past 3-decades. (It does!) But just from the video-point-of-view alone, ‘Kobra’ and company do add something to the pseudo “Black Velvet” franchise.

MIKE: Let's get the lasciviousness out of the way right up front. Brittany "Kobra" Paige is remarkably sexy, especially in this video. Is that an actual song tattooed onto her left thigh? I would certainly enjoy trying to read it and figure out the chords. The only thing that would be better than that would be if it had been in braille! And what is she whispering during the intro to the song? Her look for this video is a modern update on Marilyn Monroe, with the images of the limo, the hotel room and the vintage film camera adding the exclamation point. 

AJ: The band certainly does not miss the mark on the sexiness of this song. And credit to them for taking that sexy in another direction. But the guitar riffs aside (which I love), I think we have a case here of style-over-substance. That’s not to say that she can’t sing. She can. She really can! But for me, the video is better than the cover and my first reaction is that I wish they had changed the arrangement of the song a little more.

MIKE: Kobra and the Lotus put a heavy metal spin onto this classic song. At its heart, "Black Velvet" is a blues song, but as Robin Lee proved way back when it's also a country song. Here, it truly becomes a heavy metal song. Kobra and the Lotus is a very, very heavy band, with connections to metal gods such as Greg Godovitz, Rik Emmit and, of all people, Gene Simmons, who signed them to his record label. Godovitz produced their first release, and Emmit played guitar on their earlier cover of Motorhead's "Ace of Spades."

AJ: And I do love that they are taking more of a metal mindset on this cover… but I think it needed to go further. The guitars weren’t enough. The vocals are clean but I think they needed to be ballsier like a lot of the band’s other material. I wanted this cover to be almost unrecognizable. I wanted to start listening to this song and then realize a couple of seconds in what the song was.  

MIKE: With this song being such a staple, one might ask what it is that makes this version of "Black Velvet" worth the effort. For me, Kobra's vocal here refines the grit and rasp of Alannah Myles' original version. The 1989 song bordered on heavy metal, as did many of the other hits from Myles' album. But Myles sounded bluesy whereas Paige brings a clearer, classical sound to the lyrics about Elvis Presley. The restrained double-kick drum lays down a steady foundation and the guitar shredding solo provides a different kind of punch than the 1989 version. And if you like the metal sound here, be forewarned, Kobra and the Lotus actually toned down their sound quite a bit for this cover version, as you can tell from listening to some of their other work, such as "50 Shades of Evil" and "Welcome to My Funeral."

AJ: That can be dangerous. I appreciate that they want to stretch (and that they have the talent to do so) but if this is all you have ever heard from this band, it might leave you wondering why their other stuff doesn’t sort of sound the same. Is it too much of a departure from their style? Not necessarily. But I am curious what the diehard Kobra fans thought of the cover.

MIKE: More than just a karaoke version of a great song, Kobra and the Lotus comes very close to accomplishing the impossible by making "Black Velvet" their own. But with something as ubiquitous as this song originally was, can anyone really do that?

AJ: That is a damn good question. But I respectfully disagree that they have made this song their own. They have made the video their own and that says a lot about a great band. I guess I just wanted Kobra and the Lotus’ version to be more burlap and less velvety.

[coldfade]

Veruca Salt “Laughing In the Sugar Bowl”

MIKE: 1993 and 1994 were banner years for great female-fronted rock bands. I spent a lot of time listening to three songs from this era over and over and over again: "Cannonball" by the Breeders, "Feed the Tree" by Belly, and Veruca Salt's perfect song "Seether." I might also include Hole's "Miss World" but Courtney Love is such a divisive figure, and I didn't give ‘Live Through This’ nearly as many spins as the other three. Veruca Salt's ‘American Thighs’ was a fantastic debut album full of hard-driving rock (”Number One Blind”) and expert harmonies (”Victrola”) between guitarist/singers Louise Post and Nina Gordon.

AJ: I am embarrassed to say that I was so caught up in everything else that was going on in my life in the early nineties that the music I loved and would have loved was sat on the backburner. 

Let me say that again… ‘the music I loved’… and not necessarily the music I was playing on the radio. Let’s see. In the early nineties I was all-busy getting married, playing mediocre AM radio schlock, getting fired from the job where I was playing that mediocre AM radio schlock, and getting hired at (and fired again from) another station where I was playing more mediocre AM radio schlock. 

I should have been healing myself by listening to bands like Veruca Salt and Radiohead and Smashing Pumpkins but… well, better late than never. I have made up .for lost time in the past 10-15 years. 

When you look at the line up for Veruca Salt over those years, it has been volatile to say the least and the fact that the core is back together now is a very cool and very refreshing thing.

MIKE: True. The Chicago band is back, with the full original line-up for the first time since 1997's Eight Arms to Hold You. In fact Post and Gordon buried the hatchet in 2014 after many years apart, releasing an EP with two new songs ("The Museum of Broken Relationships" / "It's Holy") and a 20th anniversary updated version of "Seether". This week (July 10, 2015) sees the release of the full-length ‘Ghost Notes,’ and it's like deja vu all over again — and I love it!

AJ: One of the things that I have re-discovered as you and I talk music is that rock, real rock, has sort of taken a backseat in the music industry. There are bands that rock in many different forms and to many different definitions. But ‘rock’ is not the powerhouse sound for this generation. 

That’s a blanket statement of course. Look at pop culture history and you can see that cultural trends ebb and flow through time and not all of these trends are going to appeal to everyone. 

I also have to remember that I am getting old. I hate to admit it but it might be true. And for as much as I listen to everything and hear the merits in almost anything, nostalgia does have a tendency to rule my tastes more often than not. 

So hearing what I can only describe as the fresh, clearer, slightly cleaner, a-tad-leaner rock-grunge-alt-pop sound of Verusa Salt is refreshing as hell. And hearing “Laughing in the Sugar Bowl” cleanses my soul the way “Seether” should have almost a quarter century ago.

MIKE: The album is receiving rave reviews from everyone. The 3-and-a-half-star Rolling Stone review referred to their sound as "bubble-grunge," which boils it right down to its core. "Laughing in the Sugar Bowl" is "Seether" ramped up to top speed, pushing the needle well into the red zone. Like the best of bubble-gum pop, the lyrics are mostly nonsense, seemingly unrelated phrases sewn together into a patchwork quilt of catchy harmonies and a driving beat. Case in point:

Confused, not amused Parlour belle, chanteuse The morning after First act, no tact What a playback Wasn't that a good disaster?

No need to try to figure out what it all means, because it doesn't seem to mean anything. And not a stretch to link it back to their biggest hit:

Keep her down, boiling water Keep her down, what a lovely daughter She is not born like other girls But I know how to conceive her

AJ: I am so glad you said that about the lyrics. I have to admit that when it comes to listening to songs that are new (or new to me) the words sometimes become lost to me until after repeated listens or, thank god for the Internet, a quick online search. I know that I am not the only one who feels this way – especially with the continued popularity of lyric videos over the past couple of years. 

But listening to songs by Veruca Salt and The Pixies for the first time can sometimes throw you for a loop as you try to translate what the hell they are trying to tell you. So I have come to that medium-happy place where I just listen to the song and try to decipher what the lyrics and the tune mean to me. To me… at that moment. That’s all that matters. And that’s the case with all music when you are sitting on a bus plugged into your own tunes — tuned into your own thoughts and lost in your own world.

As for Verusa Salt’s over all sound, I agree that they are back with a vengeance and they have joyously expanded on their original sound. But with age comes wisdom and beauty and I think there is something about “Laughing in the Sugar Bowl” that is better than ever. 

Some might fault the sound of the song as being almost too poppy or too ‘catchy.’ (Is that possible?) But that sound is clean and infectious right from the start. 

I have bestowed the virtue of the slow build of a song on more than one occasion and how it can help draw the listener in to the story the singer/songwriter is trying to tell. But I am not married to the technique. And I love that “Laughing in the Sugar Bowl” relentlessly rips right into the first verse — grabbing hold of you and refusing to let go. 

Dare I say it could be as close to a perfect alt-rock-like song as there can be; with strong vocals (the way they string together the versus is immediately memorable), infectious guitars, killer bass lines, and driving drums. Oh and did I mention that I fell instantly in love with Post and Gordon? Head over heels! They look AND sound better now than then!

MIKE: The band does sound just as fierce and muscular as they did 21 years ago. It's like the past two decades never happened; as if MTV and Much Music are still playing videos and breaking new acts, as if Seinfeld is still ruling Thursday night television and as if Chris Farley and Phil Hartman are still on SNL every weekend. Watch the video closely and you will notice images from Veruca Salt's heyday being lit on fire and burning away. It's a symbolic gesture - "Laughing in the Sugar Bowl" and ‘Ghost Notes’ is the sound of the phoenix rising from decades-old ashes.

[coldfade]

John Grant “GMF”

AJ: Not brand new but something close to my musical heart. John Grant’s “GMF.”

MIKE: Aahhhh, a song from 2013 that I missed completely! I know you’ve extolled the virtues of John Grant’s music for a while now, and I enjoyed his first solo album, “Queen of Denmark”, but its predecessor was not picked up on my radar. I am the lesser for it!

AJ: I first heard this on NPR’s “All Songs Considered,” one of my favourite listening parties/shows/podcasts. It’s just a group of people sitting around talking about the music that they listened to that week. Perfect. So when they started to play “GMF,” I had no expectations. But Grant’s voice won me over from the beginning.

MIKE: I’m not surprised that you are fond of John Grant, AJ, for reasons that I hope don’t offend you. Though I think for the most part you and I are good at hiding our insecurities, for both of us it’s an ever-present monster lurking in the closet, one that decides to venture out from time to time and leave the two of us feeling close to worthless.  For me, these insecurities have often resulted in short wrestling matches with depression, something that has run in my family as well. John Grant seems to know this feeling, and it all comes crashing down on “GMF.”

AJ: No offense at all. For me, those insecurities stem from not believing in myself. Not believing that I can write or draw. Not having the confidence to believe that what I have to share with the universe if worth sharing. More often than not now, I can get by those insecurities by just going ahead and doing what I want and sharing what I want. And the world can chose to think what it wants to think. I’m okay with that. I do this for me. And if anyone else wants to come along for the ride, they are welcome to and that is completely up to them. For Grant, he has had to come to grips about what he and the world thinks about his lifestyle. And the fact that he can ‘talk’ about being homosexual in such a beautiful, clever, unique and articulate way is healthier than both of us combined.

MIKE: Again, looking at some things that you and I share, our love of broadcasting, and especially radio, is what brought our paths together. And as you are aware, many who work in broadcasting suffer from insecurities and depression, to the point where they often tend to use the microphone or the camera to blast through those feelings, masking them in a cloud of bravado that dissipates when the “ON AIR” button gets turned off. I know that’s certainly true for me.

AJ: Too true. For all my years on the air, it was genuinely me you heard… but turned up a notch or two. And then when I went into the so called real world, people expected me to be ‘on’ like that all the time. That’s tiring. And a disappointment to many. And that feeling that you are letting someone down builds on to the insecurities that are still hiding in your psyche somewhere.

MIKE: Knowing a bit about Grant’s own history puts this all into the proper perspective. It’s been said he has experienced a lifetime grappling with trauma, from the ferocious homophobia he endured through his early years in Colorado, and the alcoholism and drug addiction of his twenties and early thirties, to his HIV diagnosis in 2011. His parents sent him to psychologists as a youngster, trying to “fix” his homosexuality. Though neither you nor I can relate to that particular aspect of Grant’s pain, we can both certainly empathize with his self-loathing.

AJ: And we can also relate to the ‘face’ that Grant shares in this song. The self-loathing as you have already said but also the attitude that permeates others parts of his life… and how that ‘attitude’ can be broken down. It’s like a protective shield that he feels he has to put up to protect himself. But eventually he is able to let that shield down.

MIKE: On “GMF”, John Grant vacillates between bravado and that feeling of worthlessness. He moves from:

“You could probably say I’m difficult I probably talk too much I over analyze and over think things Yes it’s a nasty crutch”

…to the chorus of:

“I am the greatest motherfucker That you’re ever going to meet”

And not only is he the greatest motherfucker, but his motherfucker-ness is thorough, moving from the top of his head to the tips of his toes! You can’t get more motherfucker-y than that, I would think.

AJ: I think one of the things that I loved about the song from the first time I heard it was the way Grant was able to share a line like:

From the top of my head Down to the tips of the toes on my feet.

I love how the line flows without breaking. You want to take a breather for Grant but he doesn’t need to. He can just keep on going. And he does. In the end, despite any confusion or self-evaluation, Grant does seem to know himself. And we would all be so lucky to know ourselves so well.

MIKE: Musically the song seems to “mope”, with a steady rhythm that doesn’t ever really peak or hit any highs and lows. One of the best parts of his delivery for me is how he just rolls out the word “motherfucker” with no rising tone, no deeper anger than the rest of the song, just a matter-of-fact statement that doesn’t at all break the tedium of the song. Overall “GMF” is both a depressing and an empowering song, if that at all makes sense. 

[coldfade]

Happy Canada Day Week

AJ: Canada Day is July 1st. We should do something… Canadian.

MIKE: How about we hash out our personal top five "Not Just Canadian Songs But Songs About Canada" lists?

AJ: Great idea. In no particular order… go!

Rush "Lakeside Park"

MIKE: Being a St. Catharines boy born and bred, this song has always had loads of meaning for me. I spent many a youthful weekend riding my bike miles and miles into Port Dalhousie to visit the beach at Lakeside Park, the same beach Neil Peart visited as a young St. Catharines boy. Later, as a teen, we would pile into my friend Brian's car and cruise, and our route always brought us at least once a night to Lakeside Park, hoping to connect with girls in bikinis. And as an adult, of legal age to drink, the best bars in the city were located facing that same vista. My experience with the park was much different than what Geddy Lee sings of in this song, but it remains an unofficial anthem for the city of St. Catharines.

Neil Young “Helpless”

AJ: I have great memories of Lakeside Park in St. Catharanes too. And my first song is sort a hometown song too. For the longest time I thought (or hoped) that this song was about my home town of Pembroke in north-eastern Ontario. It was always extremely poignant to me as a young man when I was trying to escape my teenage past. But in retrospect, I couldn’t have asked for a better place to grow up — along the Ottawa River watching the autumn leaves change on the Quebec side. Riding bikes with friends and heading downtown to the movies at the O’Brien and the Centre Theatres. There is still a helplessness to the city. But my Dad still lives there so maybe there is… hope.

Tragically Hip "Bobcaygeon"

MIKE: The list needed some Neil! Another "place" song. Maybe because I've spent all my life living in Ontario, I have a fondness for songs about places in the province. Here in the Niagara Region everyone seems to aspire to cottage ownership "up north", as we say. Bobcaygeon is one of those places to where many Southern Ontarians vacation. And I work with a guy whose sister ran a golf course in Bobcaygeon. Every time he would start talking about his sister I would break into this song and drive him crazy. Couldn't help it!

The Weakerthans “One Great City”

AJ: I almost put that on my list. I’ve driven through that area so many times. Now a place I have only been to once. I am a brand spanking new disciple of The Weakerthans thanks to my friend Scott who is originally from Flin Flon. Despite the refrain, there is an affection to this song and it is so relatable — whether you are from Winnipeg or not. I have the same feelings about my home town. My total experience with the city adds up minutes and hours as opposed to days and years. I drove into Winnipeg at six o’clock at night over a decade ago, checked into a Holiday Inn, ordered a pizza, couldn’t sleep much, and woke up and left again at three in the morning as I continued my migration across the country from Barrie Ontario to Kelowna BC. So I have no love or hate for the city or the province. But, I can relate.

The Band "Acadian Driftwood"

MIKE: From WINTER-peg to The Band. It's no wonder so many Americans think the True North Strong and Free is covered in snow 365 days a year. So many of "our songs" are either set in a wintery tableau or somehow conjure the feeling of the chilly north winds. Four-fifths of the Band were Canadian, and here Robbie Robertson gives us a history lesson about the French being driven from Quebec, leading to so many of them settling in New Orleans. Listen closely to the lyrics and you will understand why the fleur de lys is as important in Louisiana as it is in la Belle Province. 

Shuffle Demons “Spadina Bus”

AJ: Here is another song that reflects another city without question. My affection for Toronto runs long and strong and will never wane. It might be a familiarity thing. I don’t know. I don’t care. I just always loved living close enough to the GTA (Greater Toronto Area aka ‘downtown’) that I could visit anytime I wanted — and I miss that. There is a rhythm to the city and the Shuffle Demons captured that whole heartedly. Oddly, I never explored Spadina as often as I wanted to. The first time I did make the trek, it was because of this song. I always loved how Spadina transformed as you headed north… from stark city-ness and concrete facades to tree lined neighbourhoods and local commerce. And that’s just one of the things I love about that city.

Gordon Lightfoot "Canadian Railroad Trilogy"

MIKE: I'm not sure you can have a list of Canadian songs about Canada without at least one Gordon Lightfoot song. This is essential, again, a song about the history of our vast land and specifically the wood and steel that was laid to connect one coast to another. Not my favourite Lightfoot song, but I think the most Canadian. And it must be important: Groundwood Books printed a beautiful children's book based on the lyrics.

Blue Rodeo “Hasn’t Hit Me Yet”

AJ: For me, the sound of Blue Rodeo in all of its multi-talented incarnations is more Canadian than almost anything else. It reminds me of college and discovering myself and discovering the things that I wanted to do and discovering the things that I was sort of good at. At the time that I started listening to Blue Rodeo, I was never more confident in myself. I hope to feel that way again someday. And every time I hear stuff like this and “Try” and “Lost Together” and “Five Days and May” etcetera a little of that confidence comes back. From a musical POV, I have always loved and appreciated how bands like Blue Rodeo and The Tragically Hip had the ability to make our home and native land seem so cool and so romantic.

Stompin' Tom Connors "Canada Day"

MIKE: I almost included "Hasn't Hit Me Yet" on my list. That song makes me feel the bleakness of a cold Canadian winter no matter what time of year I hear it. Of all the songs Stompin' Tom recorded about Canada this one is most likely the most obvious. And the most timely and to the point as we celebrate our nation's birthday this week. Unlike a lot of his songs there are no characters on this, no Big Joe Mufferaw, Irish Jim McConnell or Marianne or Mabel. Instead, he goes for the big time, even claiming during this song that  "people everywhere have a song to share on Canada's holiday". He may have turned down his Juno Awards, but he wanted this one to be the Canada Day anthem. And a great one it is!

Robin Sparkles “Let’s Go To the Mall”

AJ: And now keep in mind that, for me, this list is not in any particular order and is somewhat limiting at just five songs (and with apologizes to Ian and Sylvia, Hank Snow, Loverboy, Bryan Adams, Celine Dion and every other Canadian artist that we just didn’t have room to fit on this list) — but this part of the ‘How I Met Your Mother’ story line has always amused the hell out of me. Robin Scherbatsky, like Cobie Smulders, the Vancouver actress who played her on the sitcom, was Canadian and as part of her secret past, the gang discovered that she was a pop star in Canada. One of the things that I am most proud of being a Canadian is our sense of humour. There is a universality to it. That we can see things that others can’t see or refuse to recognize and that we can look at those things in many different ways. We can make fun of ourselves in the same breath as we can be proud of our past and our present — knowing that our future will be just as poignant. And fun.

[coldfade]

Leon Bridges “Coming Home”

MIKE: With his debut album dropping June 23, 2015 AJ, I feel we have to jump on this one right now to maintain that "rock-critic credibility" we "think" we get by being the first to talk about a new artist. But I'm afraid it may already be too late. I found out about Leon Bridges from a work colleague whose usual forte is the crooner world of Michael Buble and Matt Dusk. Plus, my own Facebook feed has pushed out an ad for Bridges repeatedly to me over the last two weeks. 

In Bridges' case, it sounds and looks like the hype is well-deserved. The 25-year-old has the smooth, golden tone of Sam Cooke or Otis Redding. Close your eyes and listen to "Coming Home" and you would be excused for thinking this was a lost master tape of a 1960's era session from one of the classic soul or gospel singers.

AJ: I’m going to shatter an illusion that some people might have about the way that you and I write Cold Fade. I know I know. I shouldn’t be busting down that third or fourth or fifth wall. And like GOB in “Arrested Development,” I’m afraid that this might get me kicked out of that imaginary rock critics club that you might have been alluding too.

So here I go:

The ‘conversations’ are not always ‘real.’ The back and forth is genuine to a certain extent. It’s just that we are not sitting in your music library in Ontario shooting the s%#& in real time. What is real is our feelings and reactions and comments that we share. Those are real and never altered. But you write your stuff without seeing mine and I write what I think without knowing what you are going to say. And that truly is the essence of a great conversation.

So that being said, and considering what you just wrote about Bridges sounding like Sam Cooke or Otis Redding, I want to share with you verbatim the first thing I wrote when you sent me “Coming Home” to listen to:

Right away the vocals are nostalgic. Classic. New. But old too. It's Sam Cooke and Otis Redding all rolled into one. God, how Leon Bridges must get tired of hearing that. But to be honest, there have not been a lot of artists in the past thirty or forty years who could live up to lofty comparisons like that – and Leon Bridges can. So for as much as it might be cheap to throw around these comparisons, the sentiment is sincere.

Holy crap on a cracker! Do we share a f&^#ing brain? I am pleasantly surprised and freaked out by this. But not shocked. It’s just who we are.

Alright. Enough of the Kreskin and Carnac bulls&$%. Let’s get back to it —

Coming Home” has a cool medium pace that sucks you in for nostalgia-sake in the beginning. But it’s that tempo that keeps you to the end. It's a kind of music that, if you were listening to it while going out for a walk on a cooler summer night that would set a wonderfully healthy steady pace – and would force you to keep your head high. It's not the kind of thing that you hear in your head when you wish you were walking in slow motion while you starred in your own cooler than cool movie. You know when you hear certain Rolling Stones songs and you think how cool your entrance would be if you could just have that song playing in the background while you sauntered slo-mo style. But with purpose. No, there is a weird kind of energy to what we're hearing here. It’s steady. It moves forward. It just makes you want to keep on going.

MIKE: Open those eyes and take one look at the album cover, his outfits in this video and his haircut and you'd be forgiven for assuming you were discovering a "lost" artist and album along the lines of Rodrigues' "Cold Fact". "Coming Home" is most decidedly some kind of homage to Cooke, with a rhythm that at times has me craving to give "You Send Me" a spin right after this one ends.

AJ: And for some reason, you might be expecting some incredible harmonies to chime in at any moment too… but they don't. Why? Because the song doesn’t need them. Because Leon Bridges doesn’t need them. If anything those kinds of harmonies might detract from what Bridges is trying to do.

MIKE: And while wearing his influences on his very stylish sleeve, Bridges writes his own songs and they all evoke the ghosts of the early 60's, some recalling Marvin Gaye and even Nat King Cole as well as Cooke and Redding. So the question "is he for real?" may rear its ugly head. Or alternatively, "is he just putting us on?"

AJ: Good questions both. What is Bridges trying to do? From a song POV, the title of the song suggests Leon just wants to go home. But that leads us to another question:

Is this a love song or is this a song of redemption and asking for forgiveness?

Is this a song about how hard it is out there in the big bad world and how nice it is to come home at the end of the day to someone who gets ‘it’ and understands ‘you’ and helps you make senses out of… everything?

Or is this about a man who went out there in that big bad world on his own and realized that he didn’t like what he saw and now it’s time to come back to what he had before — because he knows now how good he had it?

There is some evidence suggesting that the latter might be closer to the truth. Bridges seems to spend more time in another song, “Better Man,” trying to prove his worth. That he can be — a better man.

Does that sentiment apply to his music too?

MIKE: He's young, and he's admitted in interviews he came to this style of music in a bit of a roundabout way. He's from Texas, not really known for its long history of soul and gospel music. But if Leon Bridges is not for real, then he's doing one hell of a job of selling us the proverbial swampland in Florida. The emotion, the intensity, the style, the look, the sound — it all wraps around each other in one neat and tidy package and I can close my eyes and believe I am hearing an original progenitor of the early 60's soul sound of the south, or the mid 60's sound of Motown. I believe Leon Bridges is for real, and I am jumping on his bandwagon right this minute before anyone else says they heard him first!

AJ: And you are a better man for it Charlie Brown! (You knew I was going to say that — didn’t you?)

[coldfade]

Michael Bernard Fitzgerald “Firecracker”

AJ: The first song I ever heard from Michael Bernard Fitzgerald was not anything like this. ”Brand New Spaces” was introduced to me by a couple of friends where I work at Vista ideas. We started a blog sharing the music we like — and while one guy is a big fan, another actually went to school with Michael in Alberta. The minute I heard that first song, I wanted to hear more. And I found this.

MIKE: This guy's from Calgary? Really? Where's the Stetson and Durangos and twang? Michael Bernard Fitzgerald sings and writes with way more soul than I would ever expect from an artist from Stampede City.

AJ: The beginning of Michael Bernard Fitzgerald’s “Firecracker” is a bit deceitful. But that’s not a bad thing and it doesn’t last for long. Only a second really.  It’s that one little bit with the guitar at the start that make you thing you are going to get one thing — and then a second later you get something entirely different. The song… explodes.

MIKE: The song kicks off with a Baptist Church service feel, with the moving power that the collective voices bring along with the driving beat. No minor chords in this song, it is all upbeat and optimistic, praising not God, but whoever it is "lit the firecracker burning in his soul". Fitzgerald sings with a frantic intensity, breaking into an almost-rap cadence, with lots of start/stop vocals tempered by the soulful female backing, with fellow Canadian Esthero featured here on a  break that takes the song directly into a hip hop vibe. 

AJ: Right away, inexplicably, I liked “Firecracker.” But somewhere in my head, I have this sick compulsion to classify things. I don't know why. It's a disease. And what I realized was that I can’t really classify this song. I'm not sure exactly what it is — not that it really matters.

MIKE: "Firecracker" is hard to categorize, as he masterfully blends so many different styles and genres into an original sound. Yet it's because of this blend that I think this song could fit well into just about any playlist.

AJ: In some ways, this song is sex. Not just sexy. Sex. It’s passionate and it's a little out of control but it takes you where you want to go. Takes you where you need to go.

Is “Firecracker” a love song?

Eyes bat, take that, I fear that she Had me at hello

Yes.

Is it a song about forbidden love?

I see you staring, no point comparing Boy I’d eat you right up, chew chew spit back So walk yourself away, right now walk today Oh why’d you have to walk like that

Possibly.

MIKE: Checking out some of the other songs and videos he has released reveals a focus on the more soulful side of things, which, in these days of the Sam Smiths of the world dominating the charts might suggest Fitzgerald has the potential for bigger and better things. But I love the spirit and the feel of Fitzgerald on this song in particular, and I hope to hear more from him in this vein in the future. His website is ilovembf.com, displaying a bravado that is both playful and audacious. Keep heading in this direction, please, MBF.

[coldfade]

Lilly Hiatt “Get This Right”

MIKE: I fear we are both getting a little fixated on new music by female singers.

AJ: Not that there is anything wrong with that!

MIKE: You’re right. Music is music and what does gender have to do with anything?

AJ: Hell, what does genre have to do with it. Look at the diversity of the music and the artists that he have talked about. It’s hard to say you are just a rock fan or country fan or a pop fan anymore. You like what you like and that’s all that matters.

MIKE: It has to be tough to blaze your own trail in a field in which your parent has done so amazingly well. You know, AJ, that as far as I am concerned, John Hiatt can do very little wrong.

AJ: Agreed. I can still remember buying my copy of “Bring the Family” at Sam the Record Man in Toronto on my home from college at Christmas. I listened to that album for seven straight hours!

MIKE: Well, we are not the only fans. So many of his songs have been covered by so many artists. He's almost like a modern-day Gershwin or Lieber, or Stoller, for that matter. At different stages of his career he has captured the emotions of life, love, marriage, divorce, heartache, aging....you name it. Songs such as his "Have a Little Faith in Me" have been used so often in movies they have almost become a cliché. He may not be a household name for the general population but those in the know can pretty much recognize a John Hiatt song no matter who sings it. 

AJ: I just have to say, despite the number of soundtracks the song has appeared on and the number of covers you will uncover on YouTube, “Have a Little Faith in Me” is still one of the greatest songs of all time. Rhetorical non sequitur question: Is John Hiatt a more melodic Tom Waits? Or is Tom Waits a rawer John Hiatt? Or maybe everyone is just trying to be Joe Cocker. Doesn’t matter.

MIKE: Now there's Hiatt’s daughter Lilly. She was born in 1984 at a time when her father had just re-emerged from treatment for alcoholism. Shortly after John left rehab, her mother took her own life. Born in tragedy, she got through it, and grew up in Nashville with Dad. She cut her teeth musically beginning in 2008 when she sang back-up on John's "Same Old Man" album. Her first album under her name came out in 2011 and this song comes from her latest, "Royal Blue".

AJ: Right away, there is an incredible familiarity to the opening guitar in “Get This Right.” And I don’t mean that in an ‘I’ve heard this all before’ kind of way. There’s just a comfort in those opening chords. Maybe it reminds me a little of John Vanderslice. I don’t know. Maybe it’s the production on the song and the way it affects Lilly’s voice. It’s distinct… that analog type of anti-processing that sounds full and genuine. I like that. It feels… real. And the only resemblance between father and daughter is talent, passion and a certain physicality — especially when Lilly smiles.

MIKE: And I also have to say that there is bit of a resemblance between a former girlfriend of mine and Lilly, as well. Which is not to say that I would have ever considered that former girlfriend to have looked like John Hiatt! That would have been way too strange.

AJ: What is fantastic about hearing Lilly Hiatt sing and perform is that she has clearly discovered her own sound. She is definitely not riding on Daddy’s coat tails but I do hope they’re shared name gives the world a chance to discover what she is capable of.

MIKE: And like much of her Dad's music, "Get This Right" deals with relationships and the difficulty in keeping two people together. But unlike her Dad's music, this song has a playful, upbeat sound that takes her a bit closer to Neko Case than John Hiatt. That treatment on her voice that you mentioned makes her lyrics hard to follow at time. But lines like "for some reason the beer tastes better in here than at home" speak of those times when you're balancing the "fun" times with the pressures of being there for someone else, being that rock that someone needs and conversely looking toward that person for your own stability. 

AJ: The title of the song is a little misleading. But maybe that’s the point. The song is about a relationship that might not be a relationship anymore. The title “Get This Right” almost implies that everything is okay. Or it could be construed to be a demand to fix things. But the lyric goes “Are we ever going to get this right?” and that has a big question mark at the end.

MIKE: "Get This Right" is rootsy but also poppy at the same time. Interestingly enough, Lilly Hiatt also reminds me at times of Roseanne Cash, another daughter of a song writing genius who brings her own style and level of creativity to the craft her father spent so many years perfecting. And like the younger Cash, Lilly Hiatt honours her father, having learned beside him, having watched and listened for so many years, taking her own chances in the family business. Now, I just hope I'm still alive when Lilly's own child carries on the tradition!

AJ: Have a little faith Mike.

[coldfade]

Dead Sara “Mona Lisa”

M: Be careful, AJ, this VIDEO is pretty much NSFW, and you have just started a new job. I would wait until the probation period is over before I watched "Mona Lisa" at work!

A: I didn’t listen to you. I watched this at work. Now I am the most popular kid on the playground!

M: The two main principles of Dead Sara are Emily Armstrong and Siouxsie Medley, two LA girls who have been playing together for over 13 years. There is no Sara in this band... the name comes from an erroneous interpretation of the beginning of the line "Said Sara, you're the poet of my heart" from Fleetwood Mac's "Sara" as "Dead Sara". Apparently Medley and Armstrong are both heavily influenced by Stevie Nicks. Dead Sara's music doesn't really wear that influence on its sleeve, especially on this song.

A: Emily got her start playing more folk-based stuff in the beginning which might explain the influence and the name.

Dead Sara has a lot of things going for them right off the top.

1. A great band name. Catches the ear and fits their sound.

2. Their sound. Although “Mona Lisa” seems to take me on a musical ride that keeps changing every 60-seconds or so (from the bluesy gospel humming and finger snaps to the fuzzy guitar to the rock-yell lyrics to the cold fade ending) I went from sort of liking what I was hearing in the beginning to really liking what I was hearing by the end.

3. “I know what you want but it’s not going to be what you like.” That is potentially one of the best lines I have heard in a long time.

M: "Mona Lisa" does chug along like a freight train out of control. It's a derailment, with all the accompanying chaos that would produce. Armstrong's vocals are best described as a sneering, spit-spraying rage. Never mind "Edge of Seventeen", she sounds more like she's on the edge of exploding. Medley's guitar licks sound like the embodiment of the phrase black snake moan. And the rhythm section of Sean Friday (drums) and Chris Null (bass) provide a ferocious backbeat for a dark, confrontational song.

A: Emily Armstrong can sound remarkably like the Vitamix offspring of Melissa Etheridge, Bonnie Tyler and Shelby Lynne with maybe a little Courtney Love thrown in for good measure. (My nod to Dead Sara’s loyal cover of Nirvana’s “Heart Shaped Box.”) “Something Good” has a more straight forward pop-tinged sound that proves that this band has ability. And if “Mona Lisa” doesn’t rock enough for you (if that’s possible) listen to “Lemon Scent.”

I hate to fixate on the lead singer when we have an entire band contributing to “Mona Lisa’s” hard-ass sound but Armstrong rocks hard. It’s a great mix.

M: You mentioned this. Armstrong sings "I know what you want, but it's not gonna be what you like" and it excites you and scares the hell out of you at the same time. And the S & M imagery of the video is hard to shake. Some songs end up being so closely tied to their accompanying video that it's hard to separate the music from the visuals. Peter Gabriel's "Sledgehammer" comes to mind, as does the Smashing Pumpkins "1979". I know I would have loved this song without seeing the video, but director Matt Odom has done such an amazing job of tying the lyrics of "Mona Lisa" together with the atmosphere the song creates to world of depravity that suits it all perfectly. He creates a heavy metal nightmare (dream?) of bondage and sin and desire. Visually, it is titillating and disturbing. It perfectly suits the song's dark, foreboding atmosphere.

"Mona Lisa" comes from Dead Sara's second self-released album, "Pleasure to Meet You", unleashed in April, 2015. And that album contains plenty more examples of tracks that will take your breath away, leaving you feeling "ridden hard and put away wet"! It's not "Rumours", or "Tusk" for that matter, and you'd be hard pressed to find any example of that Stevie/Fleetwood influence, and that's okay with me.

A: As for the video for “Mona Lisa,” it’s an incredible mess of excellent proportions and reminds me of a couple of college parties I sort of remember. You know, the kind of thing where you wake up naked the next morning craving McDonalds. But that’s a confessional for another time.

[coldfade]

Meg Myers “Sorry”

A: I’m not sure how I discovered Meg Myers. I’m not sure that it matters. I wish I had a fabulous story to tell about a love affair gone so right that it was wrong – something with someone famous that everyone knows but I can’t say because we have reputations to protect. Hers and mine. And while that wonderful affair was happening, Meg Myers “Sorry” started to blast from the speakers. But that affair never happened. Never would. I’m much too dull and straight edge for that kind of thing. And for that, I guess I am sorry too.

I guess I’m just glad that Meg is in my life with songs like ‘Monster’ and ‘Go’ as well.

If this is the first time you have heard Meg, you might think that the whole song is going to be a plaintive apology – that is until you get to that first sorry. And by the time she gets to the next apology, you can tell she has apologized enough. Too much. And even though she means it, it’s clear that she is tired of apologizing and she just wants to move on.

M: I like this girl. She has everything going for her: smart, gorgeous, sexy and a good guitar player. She writes songs that lay bare her emotions, often going straight for the throat in her attack on those that have done her wrong. But just as often she wraps those small fingers around her own throat, as she does in this song of regret. 

Going deeper into her catalogue, it's obvious that aggression is a big part of who this tiny girl is. In "Desire" she comes across as a sexual predator. In "Monster", she loves her partner too much, it seems, and his love is not enough, and it reaches a breaking point:

Oh well, it aches and aches

You make me wanna die

I gotta kill you now

In "Adelaide" she seems to vacillate between tearing apart her lover, who is mistreating her, and expressing concern for someone for whom she needs to pray. "Go" is a song that could fit on a Breeders album, chock full of screaming guitars and stop-start vocal tricks. Here she sings "nobody's gonna tie me down, nobody's gonna hurt me now." And Myers matches the aggression of the lyrics with an aural assault, punctuating her anger. You can hear the influence of Nirvana in "Go", as well.

A: I can definitely hear what you are saying. But I don’t think it is her intention to sound like anyone else. Influences are one thing and you are absolutely right. But to me, she is also one of the most unique presenters out there today. I am using the very broadcasty term ‘presenter’ instead of singer or entertainer because  think that her platform and method of delivering her emotional message is something that feels somewhat fresh for 2015 – just like The Breeders and Nirvana also have the ability of sounding fresh again today too.

As for ‘Sorry,’ Meg not only wants to move on but she is hoping that the other person in this so called conversation can and will be able to move on too. This song is a reminder that no matter how perfect things seemed once upon a time, things change. They could get better but sometimes they don’t. That’s life. Get over it. Get past it. Move on. There is something else out there. There is someone else out there. And you can’t move on without remembering and without letting go.

M: Though it has a bit of a pop sheen to it, ‘Sorry’ rates on the high end of the Meg Myers-aggression scale. And here she seems as angry at herself as she is at the subject of the song. Is she angry because she ruined a relationship, or because she really can't feel the pain she wants to feel when it's all over? So is she apologizing for being the "bad girl"? I don't think so. In fact, I think she revels in playing that role. 

A: Meg Myers is everything I want in a singer songwriter – tender and angry and emotional and beautiful all at the same time. The highs and the lows in ‘Sorry’ and some of her other songs that we have discussed and listened to take you for an incredible ride and keep re-acquiring your attention over and over again. Her formula is fairly similar from song to song but in the best possible way — jumping from extreme to extreme. Extreme voice. Extreme guitar. Extreme emotion.

We listen to a lot of music on Cold Fade Mike and rarely do I want to run out and buy the album. I would buy and listen to everything that Meg Myers released and will release. Her extremes are my extremes. She just manages to find a way to express them when most of us keep that kind of stuff bottled up inside.

Do I want Meg Myers to be that girl I was talking about in the beginning?

Yes.

And no.

M: Can anyone get close to the real Meg Myers? It seems to me that it would be fun trying, though when it was all over one might find oneself crouching in the corner sucking one's thumb!

[coldfade]

The Avett Brothers – Murder in the City

A: Where do we start? I don’t know. This is not a conversation between you and me Mike. It’s a conversation between Future You and Future Me. Or the potential for that conversation. We haven’t talked in a while. You know – talk talked. You’ve been busy. I’ve been busy. Mainly me. I’ve been busy. Sorry.

So where do we start? We start right now. We look for a simple inspiration and we follow through. We don’t over think it. That’s one of my greatest kryptonites. I over-think things. And I hesitate. And when you hesitate, you wait. And what are you waiting for? A new hesitation most likely.

So I went online and discovered that The Avett Brothers would be performing on Letterman as he finishes up his Late Night run. I know that we try to talk about newer songs here but I decided to follow my non-thinking brain and Googled The Avett Brothers along with Brandi Carlisle who will also perform on the show. Why is her name so familiar?

So I discover that Brandi covered The Avett Brothers’ song “Murder in the City.” But why is her name so familiar? I searched back on my Hear See Daily blog and then I remember. My wife and daughter sent me a song that they thought I might like. Something to listen to and think about while the three of us are separated by distance and the task of transferring our lives from one city to another. And that song belonged to Brandi Carlisle. Small world. (I love the effect of Brandi’s voice while recording “Murder in the City” in that tunnel. It has a sentimental Daniel Johnston kind of feel to it when he used to record his songs directly into his cassette recorder in the basement of his parent’s bungalow.)

M: I've always felt that the true measure of a great song is that the song sounds great no matter who is playing it. Whether it's the words, the chords, the way it builds, the rhythm, or the emotions it arises in the listener, the song itself in any form holds up to whoever is honouring it with their own spin on it. By that standard, and based on these two versions, "Murder in the City" is a great song.

A: As for The Avett Brothers original version, the quiet sort of pulls you in right from the beginning. You almost have to happily strain to hear the guitar at the start. There is something about this song and the Brothers’ harmonies that draw you in and make you want more — long before the song comes to an end. That’s an odd thought and an even weirder sensation. 

I’ve talked about the build of a song before – and how I think that generally it is a necessary thing… that a song needs to pick up emotional steam as it progresses to whatever end might be coming. But the build in this song is the story not just the tone — and that works even better. 

You don’t want the story to end. You certainly don’t want the story to end the way the story does end. You just want to lie back and close your eyes and allow the setting sun to splash down on your face – and  you want to make a list yourself to say all the things you have always wanted to say to the people that you wanted to say things to. The difference is that your list is the start of something for you and not the end. 

That being said, my favourite sentiment in the song comes in the form of three little words – “I’m coming home.” Or in my case, home is eventually coming to me. This is a song about life – not death. This is a song about love and family – not strangers and danger. This is a song that warns you about the perils of regret. That you can’t live in the past tense. That you can’t spend your life wondering about the what-ifs. That a hesitation is just as dangerous as life in the big city.

M: As you point out, despite the ominous title, this is not a song about a gruesome killing. It is a song about family and love and honouring those with whom you share the most. I can see how, in your situation right now, AJ, that this song has a special meaning for you. 

As I write this I am sitting with my 14-year-old cat, Kucha, who is the same age as my son Sebastian. This week we have made the decision to end Kucha's suffering from kidney disease, and it was a difficult decision to arrive at. In fact, I'm still not sure about it, and it happens one hour from now. Kucha has been such a big part of our family, and this song wells up emotions in me that bring to mind our interactions with this feline over the years. 

A: Family is family. You don’t have to like or love family just because they are family. But when family is truly family everyone works hard to make everything work, love is un/conditional. I’m sorry you and your family are going through all of this.

M: Thank you.

A: Bands are certainly like families. It just so happens that two of the members of this band are actually brothers.

M: The Avetts were park of the first show held on the Parks Canada grounds in my part of the world four years ago. As Live Nation was setting up the stage for the event, I ran into an older couple who were walking the grounds. We started talking, and they said they were from Cleveland, and when they were flying back home the previous month, the wife had been sitting beside Seth Avett on the plane. 

After a pleasant ride, in which they held a long conversation, Seth told her he would send her tickets and backstage passes to their show later that week. Often idle talk from many musicians, I would imagine, but he pulled through, they went to the show and were treated like family! 

And family is what the Avett Brothers and this song are all about. In fact, isn't that what life itself is really all about? Loving one another, honouring your family, through the good and the bad and the mediocre. Through all the beginnings, and all the ends, and all the ends that turn out to be just other beginnings. The future has arrived, and the future is right in front of us. Let's see where it takes us. 

A: And so it begins again my brother.

[coldfade]

Sleaford Mods - Tiswas 

M: Things might be bad where you live, but things are really, really bad in the U.K. At least that's the way Sleaford Mods see it, and tell it, on "Tiswas". The duo of Jason Williamson and Andrew Fearn hail from Nottingham, and came together in 2009 after Williamson spent a couple of years going it alone in London.

A: For whatever reason, it sometimes seems hard to accept that there are people and bands out there who have something to say (really have something to say) and they just want the chance to say it. They just want a chance to have people hear it and respond to it. And if fame and fortune comes along with all it’s wonderful distracting trappings, then so be it. And that’s the impression I get from listening to Sleaford Mods for the first time. I want to avoid comparisons to Johnny Lydon and the like because there are clear differences in style and attitude but I have to admit that is the first thing that popped to mind as Williamson sang:

Pop round Matt, I'll give you a fiver! The Land That Time Forgot is on repeat I can hear the screams of people, who wanna be me They wanna shave my tongue And tell the others that they were the ones who made me Who made me

M: Their website bio states their music is "an aggressive onslaught on all that is contrived and connected to the day-to-day hammer of low paid employment and domestic situations arising from that trap". Like a modern-day Sex Pistols, they rant and rave about all that is wrong on the wrong end of Britain's class system, not worrying about who they might offend in the process. And they do it with style, spitting vitriol and drenching everyone and anyone who dares to come near. But I agree, they sound nothing like Johnny Rotten and his crew.

A: There is more control and more purpose in what Sleaford Mods have to share. Fearn’s music is simple but not simplistic. It makes you move but enhances Williamson’s message. It does not distract from it. I have a great appreciation for their post-punk hip-hop spoken-word attitude – shorter songs that get directly to the point and say everything that they have to say.

M: True. It’s a steady driving beat, heavy on the bass, that rolls and repeats throughout the song — always threatening to come to a boil, but never quite reaching that point. And I think that's what I like about the song, the fact that the tension never seems to release, as Fearn's beat allows Williamson to spit/rap about the problems of the working class in a system he feels is hopeless.

A: Some of the references they are making are deeply ingrained in British pop culture. Plus Williamson’s accent is so incredibly thick, beautiful and authentic that it’s sometimes hard to understand. So, in some instances, you as a listener get to concentrate on how they are saying what they have to say instead of just what they are saying. And that’s great too. So what do I hear? Conviction without outright or put-on anger… at least not on this song!

M: “TISWAS" was an acronym for a kid’s British TV show in the seventies and eighties called "Today It's Saturday, Watch and Smile." So, are Sleaford Mods making a mockery of that show and its times, as might be suggested from many of the disturbing images that pop up between them in the video?

A: Or maybe Sleaford Mods are just going along for the ride. ‘TISWAS’ the TV show was about mocking thing in its day including other kid’s shows.

M: That’s makes sense. The Dictionary Central definition of the word ‘tiswas’ is “a state of confusion or flustered excitement.” Based on the sound and the lyrics, either definition would work.

A: It’s hard to keep track of how many albums and EPs and extended mixes Sleaford Mods have released. I think it’s safe to say they are going away anytime soon.

M: Would you believe, AJ, that the Sleaford Mods latest long player, "Divide and Exit", not only made into Mojo Magazine's Top 50 of 2014, but held down the number 3 spot, behind only Beck and the War on Drugs? Shows the strength of regional acts in the UK. And Sleaford Mods seem to be about as regional as it gets, with the thick, greasy accent and the use of slang that for many outside of the U.K. is meaningless. Williamson and Fearn, through "Tiswas" and other songs such as "McFlurry" and "Fizzy", are giving angry voice to the downtrodden masses. The duo wants everyone to know that they are just like them — sick of the daily grind, tired of continuously running inside the rat cage and getting nowhere. It's the same message we heard in 1976 and 1977, but put to us in a very, very different way!

A: The UK loves them. And even though Williamson writes about, among other things, unemployment; it’s only recently that he quit his day job to focus on his music career. Fortunately there is no shortage of things for him to write and sing about. Only now, maybe life ain’t so bad.

[coldfade]

Catfish and the Bottlemen - “Kathleen”

M: You may have seen this on Letterman.

A: Sadly, no.

M: The song came out in the UK in April, 2014 but the album didn't get released 'til five months later. The Letterman performance was from January 8, 2015…

A: I’m glad they passed the audition. Damn, I’m going to miss Dave! Great live performance from these guys!

M: I thought so too. I can't start talking about this song without first addressing the issue of the band's name. Apparently, Australian-born frontman Van McCann (a great name in itself) once met a busker in his hometown who called himself "Catfish the Bottleman". He loved the moniker, so he chose to use it when this band formed in Wales. It is kind of an awkward name. Often, a band's name immediately tells you something about what you might expect from their sound. I'm not sure what I expected when I decided to check them out, but it wasn't this. 

A: You know me. I love a quirky band name. I've been playing a game for thirty years where, when I hear a weird turn-of-phrase, I say “That was the name of my band in college!” The built-in irony of course is that I don’t have a musical bone in my body. I even started a website about it. But the problem with the really quirky names of the new millennium is that those bands rarely have staying power. There are exceptions to the rule. And in retrospect, I’m quite sure there were doubters in the crowd concerning the longevity of bands in the sixties with names like The Beatles and The Rolling Stones. So, what were you expecting from these guys?

M: I’m not sure. This is a frustrated, confused, rock and roll song, and when I say rock and roll, this song truly rocks. McCann goes around and around in circles, trying to figure out what his girl is thinking, what she needs, and how she feels about him. She seems to be driving him crazy, but he can't give her up:

I'll never work out exactly how you're thinking But let me know when I'm needed home I've got to give it to you You give me problems When I'm not in the mood

A: I’m glad you got that much out of the lyrics. In the same way that you are left stymied by the name of the group, I’m hopelessly lost trying to figure out what the lyrics mean to me. But maybe my confusion is right on the mark with Van McCann’s sentiment. His sense of confusion is my sense of confusion.

M: In an interview, McCann said the song is about "when you're mad about someone, and you're madly in love with someone, and they're nutcases, and they burn your clothes, but you keep going back to them when you're drunk". I can't say I've ever had to deal with this. Maybe it's something we'll see in a future reality show about "rock star problems". But you can catch his drift.

A: We've already seen this on unscripted TV. Remember ‘Celebrity Rehab?’ On my first listen to “Kathleen,” I got this sort of eighties vibe at the beginning. I love that they get right into the song. No hesitation. That’s rare. And like you said, a sign of a real rock and roll song. That’s rare too. It’s immediately infectious and even has a Regina Spektor “Orange is the New Black” feel to it. Or is it The Arctic Monkeys? Or The Killers? I don’t know. There is just something so damn familiar about their style and Van’s voice. It’s just a great sound. That change into the chorus is marvelously startling – almost like it doesn't belong there or it was a bad edit. In the end, I like this song and I want to hear more. But I have to admit that this is a feeling song for me. The message I get from this song is more about energy and familiarity (not in a Robyn Thicke / family-of-Marvin Gaye kind of way.) What still frustrates me is trying to decipher the lyrics.

M: And my frustration is matched by the raucousness of the music, which drives hard and kicks even harder. It's an exciting ride on roller coaster, with ups and downs and curves that match the lyrics. They're a young band, with a great sound and a fun attitude. One thing I can't figure out, at all, is one line from "Kathleen.

A: I think I know the lyric you mean.

M: "You can leather me with your lips."

A: That’s the one.

M: Now, I know sometimes we miss-hear lyrics, but this is exactly what it says in handwritten notes on the Catfish and the Bottlemen website. 

A: I think it might be synonymous with whipping someone or beating someone... like with a belt.

M: Well, that's another problem that only rock stars have — getting leathered by someone's lips! I will most likely never know!

[coldfade]

Dead Man Fall “Bang Your Drum”

A: I’m a sucker for a strong drum beat – especially something that starts a song as powerfully as Dead Man Fall’s “Bang Your Drum.” Confession: I immediately fell in love with this song when Craig Ferguson lip-synced to it on the finale of The Late Late Show. The lyrics said exactly what Ferguson wanted to say to the world one more time before he ventured forth into new adventures. And that’s what the song does for me too. “Bang Your Drum” has become my manifesto for 2015. It’s my New Year’s resolution. It’s a reminder that I need to keep doing and keep moving forward. Wow. Isn’t it amazing when a song can do all that for you?

M: What amazes me is that you discovered this song just as "resolution time" was upon us. I can't think of a more positive, more fitting song to kick off the New Year. We usually try to start every year with a dedication to making positive change in our own lives and often in the lives of others. "Bang Your Drum" tells us to keep at it, to not give up, to put our heads down, keep banging those skins until you reach your goals. So, my question is: is this a discovery of coincidence, of shrewd timing, or of plain old fate? 

A: All of the above I think. Even though I have been listening to this song for a month or so, its message is even more important to me now as we get to that point in January when New Year’s resolutions usually fall by the wayside. I’ll be honest. These past two weeks have been hellish. Friends dying, unforeseen and uncontrollable changes occurring potentially altering tomorrow’s landscape, and my mind and body reacting to the stress of the moments with aches and pains and fevers. But the drums keep me marching to their different beat.

M: The drum beat that you love so much is almost tribal in nature, driving the song to its emotional climax. And there are horns on this track... that’s what I am a sucker for – a great song with horns!

A: Dead Man Fall have not been around for a long time but Des McCabe and the other members of this Scottish band have known each other since school and have played in other groups. What brought them together? Similar musical influences – from New Order to Primal Scream. And you can hear that in their music.

M: I love the laconic way McCabe sings throughout the track. He hangs back a bit, letting the beat do the work, allowing it to punctuate the message in perfect fashion. And as you say, it's a message we all need to tell ourselves. To remind ourselves that accomplishing what we want to accomplish is really, when all is said and done, up to us as individuals.

A: Getting the proverbial thumbs up from Craig has done the band good. As of January 2015, despite not having a recording contract, “Bang Your Drum” is charting in North America. And for this I am thankful and not surprised. Right from the beginning, the drums are almost aggressively freeing. And then comes the bass guitar laying a foundation for some very important ideas:

I've been thinking about the things that are stuck inside my head and I can't get them out and I 've been waking at four in the morning I don't know why I can't get back to sleep again tonight 

I can relate. Sometimes we all think too much. McCabe’s vocals start introspectively – almost matter-of-fact. And then his energy and drive and conviction and pride and passion grow to the point where nothing and no one can or will stop him from doing the things that he wants to do.

And then there’s this:

I am wishing that I was making a list of all of the good things that I ever done with my life and everybody says I have wasted wasted every chance I ever had to be somebody

I can relate to that to. But most of the time the ‘everybody’ that the song refers to… is ‘me.’ I hope that dash of self-awareness is charming.

M: The video is suitably charming as well.  Especially near the end when an array of Glaswegian locals (I assume) appear in grainy footage. And about 23 seconds in, one of the band members walks down a ramp into what looks like a lounge. I don't know if it clicked for you the way it did for me, but I was instantly reminded of the old RAT (Radio and Television Students) Lounge in college where you and I spent many happy, silly, lazy, sleepy, and creative moments for three years of our lives.

A: Now that you mention it, I can see that too and it’s 1986 all over again. “Keep banging on your drum and your day will come.” It’s a simple idea. Keep doing what you do and what you love and what you are good at and eventually everything will pay off. So I will do that too. And so I don’t forget that, I’ll keep listening to this.

M: Dead Man Fall have a great, original sound, and they deserve the attention they are receiving. And I plan to keep right on listening too.

[coldfade]

Tove Lo – Habits (Stay High)

M: We may be a little late to the game here, but I just heard this for the first time on the radio this week and this song threw me for a loop. Tove Lo’s “Habit (Stay High)” is a song that grabs you from the opening lines:

I eat my dinner in the bathtub

Then I go to sex clubs

Watching freaky people getting it on

It doesn't make me nervous

If anything I'm restless

Yeah I've been around

  A: What grabbed me right away was that steady drilling rhythm that almost seems to go on too long at the beginning of the song – but it doesn’t. And the energy and the anxiety of that sound sets up the rest of her days and nights in the song. As for the story Tove has to share, ‘compelling’ isn’t a strong enough word to describe what ‘she’ is going through. She almost makes the events of her life seem wonderfully mundane and ordinary but in a twisted dangerous way.

  M: Hearing these lyrics coming from this 27-year old girl, so open and honest, immediately hits you – mostly for its shock value. But it's deeper than that. This girl is hurting. And she is on a self-destructive downward spiral that can only end in disaster. It's the sound of someone having a complete melt-down – a sex and drugs and booze bender, all in an effort to try to forget someone she can't live without. The Dad in me wants nothing more than to help her:

Spend my days locked in a haze

Trying to forget you babe

I fall back down

I gotta stay high all my life

to forget I'm missing you

  A: Me too. And for as much as this sounds like an upbeat, assertive song, it’s actually an act of pure desperation and an exercise in orchestrated distraction and classic avoidance. And that’s sad. I think we all have experienced love and a love-lost that makes you feel this way. Tove has just managed to express it in a most unique theatre-of-the-mind kind of way. Her voice is an odd combination of fear and forcefulness that almost makes you question for just a second how bad-off she really is. But that’s the point now isn’t it. She doesn’t really realize how bad she’s got it.

M: We've have all been there before, haven't we? It's how we deal with great loss that often defines us and builds our strength. But when we are younger, we often deal with that kind of loss in such self-destructive ways. One hopes, while listening to this song that she gets through this and finds her happiness. And that she stays safe through all of her bad decisions:

Pick up daddies at the playground

How I spend my daytime

Loosen up their frown

Help them feel alive

A: And that’s one of the things that takes “Habits (Stay High)” from being a good song to a great song – the ambiguity of the ending. That fact that we don’t know how she is going to be. We assume. We hope. But we don’t really know. The song and the story don’t end happily ever after at 3:28. And that’s a brave thing for a songwriter to do.

  M: Tove Lo reminds me a bit of Lorde. Both are young, use pseudonyms, write their own songs, and have a sound that is both unique and difficult to classify. And both sound older and wiser than their look and age would suggest.

  A: I thought of Lorde too. It’s interesting how something like “Royals” is lyrically almost celebratory but sounds so desperate while “Habits (Stay High)” goes the other way.

  M: Tove Lo’s album "Queen of the Clouds" is broken down into three sections: The Sex, The Love and The Pain – apparently reflecting the stages of early passion, then comfortable love, and finally the break-up of a typical relationship. It’s not hard to figure out into which stage "Habits" fit. Plus she has a song on the new ‘Mockingjay Part 1’ soundtrack (next to none other than Lorde) called "Scream My Name".

A: And?

M: And this one has a more pure pop sound to it – with a beat like a popcorn machine. But like "Habits," it also takes a dark slant on love and life. Her music is intriguing and original. She stands out in a Top-40 world of pop-tarts with her raw emotion and been-around-the-block persona. I like it. A lot.

A: Is that the father in you talking? Or the music critic?

M: Good question.

[coldfade]

Angel Olsen “Forgiven/Forgotten”

A: Know what I love about so much of the music today? That some of the strongest rawest realest anti-love songs come from resilient assertive kick-ass women who know who they are and know when they have had enough… sometimes. That’s what I sort of hear when I listen to Angel Olsen’s “Forgiven/Forgotten.”

M: This song is an interesting introduction to Olsen’s music. It’s uncharacteristically aggressive and loud in comparison to much of her work. That’s not surprising given her past affiliation with Bonnie “Prince” Billy and the Cairo Gang.

A: There’s a wonderful complex simplicity to the song especially in the beginning. It’s has a garage band feel that goes back to the late sixties but fuller sounding.

M: You might classify the bulk of her music as almost lo-fi, which isn’t a bad thing. And “Forgiven/Forgotten” is certainly not lo-fi. I can hear some sixties sounds in this one too – in a Phil Spector Wall of Sound way.

A: And Olsen’s voice reminds me a little of Kim Deal – the original bass player for The Pixies. Maybe that’s because I just finished watching footage of The Pixies playing a Boston show from 2004. But there is that same strength to Olsen’s delivery that is perfectly accompanied by strong lyrics like:

There's one thing I fear Is knowing you're around So close but not near So close Oh, but not with me here

M: The driving beat, the guitar riffs and the bass rhythm also remind me of the Pixies. And I love that “Forgiven/Forgotten” clocks in at a perfect 2:10. Some of the best rock and roll songs in history have known exactly when to quit. When this one ends abruptly it leaves me catching my breath and wanting more, which is exactly what a rock and roll song should do.

A: Olsen has some other great lines in “Forgiven/Forgotten.” But like I said in the beginning, “women who know who they are and know when they have had enough… sometimes.” I said “sometimes” because, to be honest, I’m a little confused:

I made up my mind I've wasted my time Hanging on my mind I don't know anything

M: Lyrically, I’m a little confused about the tone of the song too. She does come across as assertive (and who doesn’t love a “kick-ass woman” – in theory, at least!) But I’m left a little lost as to who is forgiving/forgetting whom. Especially in light of the way it wraps up:

Will you ever forgive me A thousand times through For loving you

A: Has Olsen wasted her time forgiving or has she wasted her time forgetting?

M: Not sure. The song comes across as almost regretful and pleading by that 2:10 mark. And maybe that’s what Angel Olsen is trying to do here – leaving you in a world of wonder and doubt about what it all means.

A: As far as I’m concerned, there is nothing to forgive and nothing you’ll want to forget.

[coldfade]

Colour the Wild “Liza”

(MIKE) She had me at the "f"-word!

(AJ) Me too!

(MIKE) In the second line of “Liza,” Colour the Wild (aka Carly Walde) so casually slips in the profanity that one might not register that it happened.

(AJ) I remember thinking the same thing the first time I heard this too. I’ve spent a lifetime telling broadcasting students that there are always better ways of saying things and that profanity is cheap. This time, profanity is the better way.

(MIKE) It reminds me a bit of a 'til Tuesday song called "Believed You Were Lucky." Aimee Mann did the same thing. In fact, I would often slip that song into my sets back at our college campus radio station and no one seemed to be the wiser!

(AJ) I like that.

(MIKE) My bet is that Carly will not be doing the same with "Liza" during her shifts at the Vancouver radio station where she works. She may have to record a "clean" version though because this song deserves airplay.

(AJ) The station she works at, The Peak, could actually play her song too. How odd would it be introducing yourself and your own music on the radio? So what do you think of “Liza?”

(MIKE) "Liza" has an upbeat, pop-lilt that reminds me a bit of Feist both in the melody and in Walde's voice.

(AJ) Agreed. The drawn out chorus gets stuck in my head and I find that almost soothing and meditative (as opposed to aggravating and annoying in a Gilligan’s Island/Brady Bunch kind of way.) There is even a Fiona Apple kind of list to Carly’s voice – especially on the piano-driven “Hot Water” (from her self-titled four-song EP “Colour the Wild.”) Carly delivers a confident vulnerability with her vocals that elevates her lyrics but allows her to sound grounded and real too.

(MIKE) The updated nursery rhyme theme is a lot of fun. Liza gives in to frustration with that hole in the bucket. The little old lady who lived in a shoe whips and beats her kids until they turn on her. Digging a bit deeper into the theme, though, I suspect there is a bit of a feminist message throughout the song, as Clementine gets fed up with being called "darling" and Peter's wife, while living in a pumpkin, takes his breath from him. Is this a song about the meek rising up; mad as hell and not taking it anymore?

(AJ) “Liza” could very well be about the meek and the geeks inheriting our slightly off centre Earth. But I guess my interpretation of the song is somewhat more simplistic… that no matter what you encounter in this world, you have a choice. That you can make a change. That endings are beginnings. I might be totally off base here but that’s what I love about music. What means one thing to one person might mean something entirely different to another. F#$% ‘em if they can’t take a joke!