Fluxblog 454: they're justified and they're ancient
Dave Fridmann production playlist + old songs by The Doobie Brothers, Richard Marx, and The KLF
This week’s playlist is THE DAVE FRIDMANN SOUND, a career retrospective for one of the most distinctive and bold alt rock/psychedelia producers of the past three decades featuring his work with The Flaming Lips, MGMT, Mercury Rev, Spoon, Sparklehorse, Low, Sleater-Kinney, Mogwai, Thursday, and more. If you’re not already familiar I think you’ll recognize his aesthetic right away – huge drums, controlled noise, everything larger than life but sort of whimsical. [Spotify | Apple | YouTube]
Here’s the full track listing with notes…
The first couple months of the year tend to be slow for new releases and I’m almost always burned out on current music after doing the survey mix, so I like to take some time out early in the year to write about old favorites. Here’s three new posts about some classics I’ve had on my mind recently.
Somehow That Sounds Nice
The Doobie Brothers “Minute By Minute”
“Minute By Minute” opens with a keyboard intro that moves frantically but has a very chill tone, an appropriate overture for a song about trying to play it cool despite very fraught emotions. Michael McDonald and the Doobie Brothers aim for a classic Motown feel and structure but filtered through their style and the cutting edge studio technology of the late ’70s the music takes on a slightly stiff and neurotic vibe. It still swings, but only so much. It’s perfect for getting across the mood of the guy in this song, who’s struggling with a lot of contradictions.
Hey, don’t worry, I’ve been lied to
I’ve been here many times before
He’s putting on armor from the start. He’s trying to tell you that he’s hardened by his past experience and has a lot of options, that the stakes are actually pretty low and he doesn’t have a lot of expectations. But what you really hear in McDonald’s phrasing is a guy who’s been hurt before and is hurting right now, but he’s playing it off as no big deal but not doing a great job of it.
Girl, don’t you worry, I know where I stand
I don’t need this love, I don’t need your hand
He’s trying to make it sound like he’s not a sucker, and that he’s not broken the rules by catching real feelings. It’s very “doth protest too much.”
I know I could turn, blink, and you’d be gone
Then I must be prepared any time to carry on
But minute by minute by minute
I’ll keep holding on
And there it is. He knows he’s playing a game he can’t win, but he loves to play it and is just trying to prolong this game for as long as she’ll allow it. He can’t have what he really wants with her, but what he has in the moment is close enough. He can imagine a better situation, but he can’t imagine someone better than her.
You will stay just to watch me, darlin’
Wilt away on lies from you
Here’s where the bitterness comes through. He’s playing the victim, but also swearing that he won’t give her the satisfaction of getting one over on him. He’s trying to get any kind of upper hand in the situation. McDonald’s phrasing gets a little more strained here, making him sound kinda pissy in the most soulful way possible.
Can’t stop the habit of livin’ on the run
I take it all for granted like you’re the only one
This ties back to “It Keeps You Runnin’,” a previous song with The Doobie Brothers that sounds like it’s written about the same situationship from earlier on the timeline. It’s pretty much the same emotional dynamic, but written with more hope that he can persuade her to settle down. Not a lot more hope, though – as much as he’s exasperated by her willingness to be lonely, there’s no end to her “running” in sight.
Livin’ on my own
Somehow that sounds nice
I love the way McDonald sings “somehow that sounds nice” like he’s muttering an aside to himself, as though he’s just in that moment considering something that might be good for him.
You think I’m your fool
Well, you may just be right
These days you’d probably call yourself a simp instead of a fool, but it’s all the same. He’s so enamored of her that he can’t make any sort of good decision despite knowing better. If this is what a simp believes, how do the simps survive?
Call my name and I’ll be gone
You’ll reach out and I won’t be there
The key changes on the bridge, pushing McDonald towards a higher pitch and more strident tone and he imagines a consequence to her stringing him along. It’s a spiteful fantasy of withholding the thing he wants so much once she decides she wants it too.
Just my luck, you’ll realize
You should spend your life with someone
You could spend spend your life with someone
Oh, did you have someone in mind?
Buy it from Amazon.
All That California Snow
Richard Marx “Don’t Mean Nothing”
You listen to music as a kid with very few reference points. Whatever you hear early on ends up becoming the beginning of musical history as you know it, and songs that anyone with even a little context would clock as derivative exist entirely on their own merits even if you hear it side by side with whatever they’re emulating. This is why it took me decades to notice this Richard Marx song, a big radio hit when I was a kid, is basically the young Marx writing his own version of a Don Henley song, right on down to the recording featuring Eagles alumni Joe Walsh on guitar and Randy Meisner and Timothy B Schmidt on backing vocals.
“Don’t Mean Nothing” specifically feels like the final Eagles album The Long Run or Henley’s solo stuff from the 80s, like “Dirty Laundry” or “All She Wants to Do Is Dance.” It’s in the studio gloss, the way every part of the song sounds like it’s very brightly lit, and how the guitar sounds as though it’s being played with sarcastic airquotes.
But most of all it’s in the lyrics, which aim for very Henley-esque sort of cynicism. It’s written from the perspective of a Hollywood insider who’s telling some up and comer about how it all really works. A lot of it sounds like the truth, but just enough of it sounds like an agent buttering up a fresh-faced talent to make you get that we’re listening to an unreliable narrator. If everyone has an angle and wants a piece of you, surely he must as well? He seems pretty eager for you to sign that dotted line.
This is Marx’s debut single and it was written well before he was famous, so it seems safe to say he was probably writing about his own experience of entering an industry full of people he can’t really trust. You hear Marx’s youth and drive to be a star in his voice, so much so that it’s at odds with the snarkier aspects of the song, though not in a bad way. It’s a complication that adds depth in any interpretation. Is the earnest vocal performance indicating that we’re hearing the advice from the singer’s perspective and sensing his skepticism? Is it more about this agent guy putting on a sunny public persona to soften a harsh message? The truth spoken by a living lie.
The bridge is what really makes this song click, both musically and lyrically. The first half of it is as overtly melancholy as this otherwise very cheery song gets – “Hollywood can be so lonely, make you the winner of a losing fight.” But then it shifts back into brightness and optimism very abruptly – “but the party is never over because the stars are always shining, doesn’t matter if it’s day or night.” You could take it as the punchline of the lyrics, but Marx sounds so sincere that it plays like the heart of the song. Whether you’re hearing that from the young talent or the agent or Marx’s personal perspective, it’s the part of the song where you really get that this song is coming from a love of Los Angeles and a real excitement about getting a chance to play this game.
Buy it from Amazon.
Someone Started Screaming “TURN UP THE STROBE!”
The KLF featuring Tammy Wynette “Justified & Ancient (Stand By the JAMs)”
I would love to read an audio transcript of the call The KLF made to Tammy Wynette in Tennessee to say “Tammy, stand by the JAMs.” What kind of pitch do you have to make circa 1991 to get a country star to jump on a pop-house song with surreal lyrics about the KLF’s mythology about the Justified Ancients of Mu-Mu largely pulled from The Illuminatus Trilogy? How do you explain the concept, or why these weirdos from the UK would specifically want Tammy Wynette to sing it?
We have answers to some of these questions. For one thing, we know Wynette sang it mainly because she just liked the song and was game for some silliness. ”I fell for the track the moment I heard it,” Wynette told Entertainment Weekly in 1992. ”It had a perfect melody, but I didn’t really understand what they were talking about.”
That’s the point of the song, really. It does have a perfect melody and it’s immaculately composed and produced. All the weirdness is there mostly so The KLF could find out what they could get away with, in a semi-academic way. Is being catchy and fun really enough? Is pop music more exciting or rewarding when there are incomprehensible or confusing aspects of it? If a song is powerful enough, can a nonsensical mythology become as compelling as existing religions?
My own answer to all of those questions is YES. It might be YES in part because of this song, which was a big hit around the time I started taking music very seriously as a kid. I had no context for Tammy Wynette when I was 12, I only knew from the song itself that it was sorta weird that this twangy soulful country lady was singing about going to “Mu Mu Land.” The KLF were playing a game that invites the listener to play along, to fill in the gaps, to imagine a whole secret arcane culture centered on the untrammeled creativity and hedonism of raves. For a few minutes, they pull you away from the mundane and offer you some magic.
Buy it from Amazon, sorta.
If you haven’t read “The KLF: Chaos, Magic and the Band Who Burned a Million Pounds” I can highly recommend it. Fantastic.
Won't look at La Croix the same again