52 GIRLS

"Arabella" / Arctic Monkeys

Just saw these guys in concert last weekend, and I was so smitten with this song from their great new album AM, I had to add Arabella to the 52 Girls line-up. (Even though I already had a post all worked up on "Mardy Bum" . . . .)

Reverby space-age guitar riffs and a catapulting drumbeat launch us immediately, and Alex Turner's lyrics extravagantly develop the galactic theme, describing Arabella's "interstellar gatorskin boots" and "Barbarella silver swimsuit" (the image leaps to my mind, readymade, of Jane Fonda as a pouty outer space sex kitten in that 1960s cult classic Roger Vadim flick). This kind of imagistic writing always makes me think of Robyn Hitchcock, and you know that's a plus in my book. In verse two Turner marvels, "It's an exploration, she's made of outer space / And her lips are like the galaxy's edge / And her kiss the colour of a constellation falling into place." None of which can possibly be true, and yet the sense of it is clear -- this guy is beyond dazzled with his girl.

The girl in question being Alex Turner's partner, the gorgeous Arielle Vandenberg. (Google her -- she is indeed a knockout.) He's so under her spell, he imagines "a helter skelter [translation: an amusement park spiral slide] 'round her little finger / And I ride it endlessly." Not much plot here, but the vividness, the cinematic detail, of his fantastical descriptions put us completely in the moment and at the scene.

Dig the punchy whiplash rhythms of this passage, sung more or less a capella: "My days end best when this sunset gets itself / Behind that little lady sitting on the passenger side / It's much less picturesque without her catching the light / The horizon tries but it's just not as kind on the eyes." Sure, he could just have said "I dig driving in my car with my baby," but that convoluted syntax flips reality, until we're in the car with them, seeing how his world has been turned upside down. Even the most glorious sunset is only a minor backdrop when Arabella is around. There's an ironic chuckle to his voice as he describes her with the cliché "kind on the eyes" -- she is SO much more to him.

For all the verbal ingenuity of the verses, the chorus is refreshingly simple, a delighted groan of her name, with falsetto vocals teasing him: "Just might have tapped into your mind and soul / You can be sure." Ya think? And then the ecstatic guitar riffs commence to peel off.

You want sexy? Oh, well, you've come to the right place. In the last verse he regards her with lascivious pride: "That's magic in a cheetah print coat / Just a slip underneath it I hope."  The call-and-response of the lyrics, their blurry speed, are a little psychedelic, but why not? This girl is a trip worth taking. He bums a cigarette from her -- any intimate contact is good -- and as he watches her drink a coke (sorry, not just a coke, a "Mexican coke"),  it "makes you wish that you were the bottle." Unh-hunh.

When the lyrics are this good, who needs story?

32 DOWN, 20 TO GO

SATURDAY SHUFFLE


Huge work project, apartment renovation, crappy weather -- I've got a dozen reasons why the daily blogs just aren't happening.  But when all else fails, we've always got the shuffle!

1. Hot Potatoes / The Kinks
From Everybody's In Show-Biz (1972)
Though everybody thinks of Muswell Hillbillies as the Kinks' "country album," plenty of twang was still hanging around for their next album, Show-Biz. If there's a theme on this album, it's about the hassles of life on the road:  Here he longs for home cooking, specifically potatoes -- "boiled, french-fried, any old way that you want to decide."  And whatever else she's serving...

2. Yolanda Hayes / Fountains of Wayne
From Traffic and Weather (2007)
Did you know that Fountains of Wayne re-united after recording the Kinks "Better Things" for a tribute album? To me, these guys carry on the Kinks spirit in so many ways. Somewhere in New Jersey there probably really is a drivers' license bureau clerk named Yolanda Hayes. I wonder if she knows that Adam Schlesinger (or was it Chris Collingwood?) read her nametag and wrote this utterly charming song while waiting in line...

3. Fluorescent Adolescent / Arctic Monkeys
From Favourite Worst Nightmare (2007)
Is this band officially defunct?  I liked the whomp and jangle of their first two albums, and Alex Turner's guttural Sheffield vocals -- not that I ever thought they were the second coming, like some folks did. ("Bigger than the Beatles" . . . yeah, right.) 

4. Selfless Cold and Composed / Ben Folds Five
From Whatever and Ever Amen (1997)
Don't be deceived by the smooth jazz grooviness of this tune -- Ben is telling this bitch off, in a storm of piano arpeggios and riffs and a few of his trademark vulgarities.  Yes, the fine art of sarcasm is alive and well.

5. Twisted / Richard Thompson
From Henry the Human Fly (1972)
Jumping back in time -- same year as the Kinks' Show-Biz, as it happens -- another sarcastic kiss-off, this time dressed up like a robust English folk song.
 
6.  In A Space / The Kinks
From Low Budget (1979)
The Davies brothers again -- with the album that re-launched their American popularity (for the third time).  I've never quite gotten this song. It's like a mash-up of Dave's cosmic perspectives with Ray's neurotic desire to escape, cranked up like a punk anthem (listen to Ray's growled vocals).  Enter the arena rock years...

7. Sure Pinocchio / John Hiatt
From Little Head (1997)
Word in the Hiatt camp is, this is his worst album.  Doesn't mean it hasn't got some good songs on it, though, and I love this one, which was actually written by bassist Davey Faragher (now part of Elvis Costello's Imposters). Another spiteful kiss-off song.

8. Town Called Malice / The Jam
From The Gift (1982)
Paul Weller puts on his soul shoes, channeling his inner Supremes. Yeah, the satiric edge is still there, but the tunefulness of this track totally leaves punk behind.

9. Paper Sun / Traffic
From Mr. Fantasy (1967)
Ah, when psychedelia was young, and all that sitar and tabla and reverb seemed fresh and new. But if you want a hazy lush sound, turn loose Steve Winwood and Jim Capaldi. Their first single, seemingly out of nowhere -- you could get a contact high from this one.

10. Didn't Want To Have To Do It / The Lovin' Spoonful
From Daydream (1966)
And only a year before, this was the sound of the moment: gentle jug-band music, filtered through a mellow Southern California high. (Different drugs.)  The opposite of a sarcastic kiss-off, John B. is sending that girl out the door so tenderly -- "I didn't want to have be the one to say 'the end' (the end, the end...)"

The Wednesday Shuffle

Back to Wednesdays, and it feels so right. (Anything rather than go outdoors in this weather...)

1.  "The Bad Thing" / Arctic Monkeys
From Favourite Worst Nightmare (2007)
Are the Arctic Monkeys over?  I hope not. Here's what I wrote about this scrappy track a couple years ago when the album first came out...

2. "Isn't That the Thing To Do?" / Maria Muldaur
From Love Wants to Dance (2004)
Nice little palate cleanser, with Maria letting out her jazz side on this Gershwin standard.

3. "How Can I Sing Like a Girl?" / They Might Be Giants
From Factory Showroom (1996)
"I want to raise my freak flag / And never be alone" -- yes, it's another off-kilter nerd anthem from the Johns.  That nasal whine of John Linnell is perfect for this song.


4. "There Ain't Half Been Some Clever Bastards" / Ian Dury and the Blockheads
From Reasons to Be Cheerful (1978)
Speaking of raising freak flags....here's my favorite Ian Dury tune ever (here's why). Which reminds me -- I've just got the new biopic Sex and Drugs and Rock and Roll from Netflix -- must watch!

5. "Sleepwalker" / The Kinks
From Sleepwalker (1977)
Or, "How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love My Insomnia," by Ray Davies. Another freak flag raised!  This bouncy track IMHO isn't one of the Kinks' best -- odd it should be the title track of an album. But there are Kinks fans who love it, so what do I know?

6. "Money Talks" / The Kinks
From Preservation Act 2 (1974)
Now this is more my Kinks -- savage satire with histrionic flair.  Being deep into Keith Richards' Life at the moment, I realize what a pitch-perfect Stones impression this is.  I'm noticing the dirty slide guitar and lovin' it.

7. "New Slang" / The Shins
From Oh, Inverted World (2001)
Charming folk-pop jangle from James Mercer and Co., spiked with stream-of-consciousness absurdity.  Yes, I'll admit it, this song on the Garden State soundtrack was my back-door introduction to these indie darlings.  There is an art to a great soundtrack, though.  Must blog about that sometime... 

8.  "Don't Bug Me When I'm Working" / Little Village
From Little Village (1992)

Talk about dirty guitar -- Ry Cooder gets just plain nasty on this one. Oh, and Johnny Hiatt's snarling lead vocals, with Ry and Nick Lowe each insinuating a verse. ("I can't even work with my baby at night -- Lord have mercy!") Tell me again why Little Village didn't work out?

9. "Full Moon in My Soul" / Robyn Hitchcock
From Spooked (2004)
More folk-pop jangle, with Robyn out-absurding even the Shins -- "I'm out of here, I'm taking off / You can have my cigarettes and, mister, you can have my cough." The loungy rhythm of this number is simply too delicious, and dig that lazy slide guitar in the bridge. 

10. "This Is A Low" / Blur 
From Parklife (1994)
Mmm, what a lovely sonic haze enfolds this modern bit of BritPop psychedelia -- I sink right into it. My sentimental favorite Blur album.  Should have known Damon Albarn would be a Kinks fan... 

Sunday Shuffle

Hunh?  Well, I was on the phone all day Wednesday with my new Norton friends, plucking out a virus from the bowels of my computer.  Best laid plans and all that. But who's to say we can't take the Shuffle out for a Sunday drive?

1. "My Love" / Paul McCartney and Wings
From Red Rose Speedway (1993)
Now, you know I love Paul McCartney.  But this song may be too schmaltzy even for me. Gorgeous melody, hideously overblown production, embarrassingly adolescent lyrics. What exactly is IT that his love does so well (or, excuse me, so "good")?  As if we couldn't guess.

2. "Secondary Modern" / Elvis Costello and the Attractions
From Get Happy! (1980)
And now the antithesis of schmaltz -- Get Happy!, my favorite EC album. This song always makes me think of a creepy janitor ("down in the basement") molesting high school girls. Just listen to Elvis' heavy-breathing vocal, and that stalker bass line.  How this manages to be such a fun track is beyond me.

3. "Personality Crisis" / The New York Dolls
From New York Dolls (1972)
More snarky fun. I completely missed the Dolls, but it doesn't really matter when you got on the David Johansen train -- once you're aboard, it's time for fun. Arch those eyebrows, honey. Who knew drag queens could rock out like this?

4. "Let's Pretend" / Greg Trooper
From The Williamsburg Affair(2010)
Time to dial down the irony now.  "Let's go down where the rivers meet / And pretend we never moved to Lonely Street" -- behind this gently rollicking roots rocker lies a ton of wistful wishful thinking. Like "Dead End Street" with less satire, a tale of two losers still trying to live on love. 

5. "Get Back" / The Beatles
From Let It Be (1970)
Proof that Paul McCartney doesn't need to wallow in schmaltz.  A part of me will always be on that Mayfair rooftop, with John Lennon in his fur coat and Paul in full black beard, treating London to the greatest free concert ever.  Get back, Loretta!

6. "D Is for Dangerous" / The Arctic Monkeys
From Favourite Worst Nightmare (2007)
When the first Arctic Monkeys album came out, British critics were raving that they were the best band ever.  Well, here's the acid test -- just listen to the Arctic Monkeys right after the Beatles.  It's no contest.  A nice hectic bit of BritPop, though, and I do love those thick guttural accents.  

7. "Pink Bedroom" / John Hiatt
From Two Bit Monsters (1979)
Didn't we have this on the last Shuffle?  The iPod must really like early Hiatt. Well, her bedroom's still pink -- and so is the Barbie Ferrari.

8. "Think Sometimes About Me" / Sandie Shaw
From The Collection (compilation)
Now here's schmaltz done right.  Those 60s girl singers were never afraid of drama -- listen to the lovely Sandie fling her heart into the ring, making that ex-boyfriend wonder why he left her.

9. "Indoor Fireworks" / Nick Lowe and Elvis Costello
From Live At Slims (1994)
Not fair, really -- a bootleg of a concert where Elvis came on as a special guest.  "This is a song Elvis wrote, and I stole off him," Nick introduces it.  Well, for the record, here is Elvis's version; Nick's is on Rose of England. I happen to know that Nick and Elvis did a whole show together in San Francisco last Friday night, singing each other's songs -- I'll bet this one was on the set list. It KILLS me that I missed that show.

10. "Gai-Gin Man" / Nick Lowe
From Party of One (1995)
Oh, come on, Shuffle, twist the knife!! I know he's still out on the West Coast, singing to other people than myself. From the greatly underrated Party of One  -- Dave Edmunds, producer! -- a spanking little rockabilly number about a tall blue-eyed man touring Japan. (Remember what a big hit "Bay City Rollers We Love You" was in Japan?)  A bit of a novelty number, maybe, but trust me, it's more fun than a barrel of Arctic Monkeys.

"The Bad Thing" / Arctic Monkeys

Don't be put off by idiot music critics who try to puff these guys up as the best band since the Beatles -- honestly, the Arctic Monkeys are good enough that they don't need that kind of overblown hype BS. I truly dug their first album, Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not (what a great hype-deflating title), and since their Favorite Worst Nightmare came out last year, it's been growing on me even more. I love its feisty, aggressive energy, those unapologetically broad Sheffield accents, and the surprising range of sounds they pull off within that punk-inspired groove. Worthy heirs to the Jam's mantle, indeed.

This song blasts out of the gate with an urgent howl of desire -- "Dooooooo / the bad thing" -- followed by the impatient demand "Take off that wedding ring," clipped off in staccato syllables that march fiercely down the scale, with an extra scornful twist on the w of "wedding ring." On he goes, in a jittery rush of equivocating argument -- "But it won't make it that much easier /It might make it worse." Meandering around in murky moral territory is something these guys do very well indeed, and even if they aren't navigating it too successfully -- and really, who does? -- at least they have the grace to admit it makes them feel bad.

You know how people talk in a bar, or at a party, when they know they're about to give in to their worst impulses? That's how Alex Turner delivers the verses of this song, all in a hurried monotonic jerky mutter: "Oh the night's like a whirlwind, / Somebody's girlfriend's / Talkin' to me, but it's all right, she's sayin' that / 'He's not gonna slap me or try to attack me, /He's not the jealous type.'" He's not really buying it, but hormones are flowing and he's not sure he wants to get away, but he still could, but will he? The suspense is killing me.

"And all these capers make her too forward to ignore, / Well, she's talkin' but I'm not entirely sure" -- not sure of what? Not sure of anything, it seems, not sure of anything in this whole nasty addled scene. As he says later, "I'm struggling to think of an immediate response, / Like , 'I don't mind,' 'be a big mistake for you to wait,' and 'let me waste your time, / Really, love, it's fine, /Really love it's fine." But he doesn't actually say any of those things, does he?

The really telling line comes in the third verse: "And then the first time it occurred that there was something to destroy" -- really, this is astonishingly mature thinking from a guy in his 20s standing at a bar with deep cleavage and a flash of ripe thigh being dangled in front of him. You're listening to those whomping drums and the skittering guitar riffs, and the last thing you expect is clear thinking. But there it is. "I knew before the invitation that there was this ploy," he reminds himself, "Oh, but she carried on suggestin', a struggle to refuse, / She said, 'It's the red wine this time,' but that is no excuse." It's practically Victorian, really.

Baffled romantics, that's what the Arctic Monkeys are. Lost boys, wandering through the sleazy modern world with a jacked-up tempo and their amps turned up to 11. They've got a great sound PLUS a surprising bit of substance, and I'm betting they're not just a flash in the pan. As good as the Beatles? Well, let's not go overboard -- even the Beatles weren't as good as The Beatles when they started out. But it's nice to have something to look forward to.

The Bad Thing sample

"Mardy Bum" / Arctic MonkeysUsually when a guy in a song complains about his girlfriend I see it from her side -- of course he's been a jerk. But in this track by the Arctic Monkeys -- 2006's hot new band out of England, with an astonishingly successful first album -- I do sympathize with him for a change. After all, some women are nagging harpies, we all know that. Forget the war of the sexes: This song reminds me of every relationship where I've had to do all the heavy lifting, and what it feels like in the middle of the hard slog. Eric Burdon (see yesterday's rant) complained how misunderstood he was, but this guy really is.

I give this couple six months, max.

The guys in this band are all incredibly young, 20 or 21 or so, and they make it work for them; Alex Turner's lead vocals sound raw and unpolished, and the lyrics have a certain inarticulate quality that's totally believable. All the more reason for me to buy his version of events.

Leading off with a dogged-yet-hopeful clanging guitar riff, the singer draws a deep breath and faces his wrathful girlfriend: "Well now then Mardy Bum / I've seen your frown and it's like looking down the barrel of a gun /And it goes off and out come all these words." He dreads what's going to happen next, but he knows the scenario by now, "when you're so all argumentative" and "pulling that silent disappointment face." He may be young but he's shrewd enough not to fire back; with native canniness, he lets her rant on. For a while, at least.

The mood changes for the chorus -- suddenly there's melody, and syncopation, and much lighter, almost folky guitarwork -- and now he paints the other side of her, the side that still makes hanging around worth it -- "Remember cuddles in the kitchen / Yeah, to get things off the ground / And it was up, up and away." It's a wistful little snapshot, and his voice goes playful and husky, recalling those good times; that thick Sheffield accent comes out at the right moment, making him sound extra-sincere. Calling her a "mardy bum" (northern slang for a feisty, sulky girl) may be a put-down, but the dialect somehow makes it endearing, too.

As the guitar gets harsher in the bridge, he rolls out the excuses: "And yeah I'm sorry I was late but I missed the train / And then the traffic was a state," but she's clearly not buying it; you can feel his exasperation as he defends himself: "Oh when you say I don't care but of course I do, yeah I clearly do!" I don't necessarily want to take this guy on, myself, but I sure want to give her a good shake -- doesn't she know what a good thing she's got?

I wonder if the Arctic Monkeys have staying power; they can only sell the raw provincial youth image for so long. But if this song is any indication of their ability to nail down how real people really feel, then they just may have what it takes. And if not...well, we'll always have "Mardy Bum," and I'll think twice the next time I feel myself getting my silent disappointment face on.

www.arcticmonkeys.com