Fluxblog Weekly #45: Enon, Belly, Pavement, Belinda Carlisle
Here's another week of nothing but old songs! I'm going to be going back to 2016 next week, but will probably keep a lot of old songs in the regular mix of things from here on out.
Also, in case you missed it, the 1985 survey mix went up earlier this week.
March 1st, 2016
When We Were 12 Or 22
Enon “Conjugate the Verbs”
The structure of “Conjugate the Verbs” is so dynamic that it feels volatile, as though the song is a building that’s collapsing one floor at a time. Every time the chorus kicks in it seems like the bottom drops out of the song, and the plunging sensation is both thrilling and terrifying. The song is all about that moment, and as cryptic as the lyrics get, the feeling of them is keyed into a sense of relief that something is being – or has been – destroyed.
It’s probably the latter, since most of these lyrics are written in the past tense. (The provocative opening line – “she’s on an unconscious mission to destroy you” – could be an ongoing concern.) The line that always lingers in my head is the chorus, “when we were 12 or 22,” partly because I like the way that disparity in age undermines its nostalgia. It’s so specific yet entirely vague, just random times in a past that’s not worth holding on to.
Buy it from Amazon.
March 2nd, 2016
Covered In Honey, Showered In Beer
Belly “Puberty”
I have long associated the sound of this sound with the beginning of spring, and the first warmish, sunny days after weeks of winter greyness. The days when you see a lot of people willing the day into actual summer, and running around dressed like it’s the middle of July. There’s a sunny sound to “Puberty,” particularly in the chords and wordless vocal melodies, but there’s a slight chill to it too, and the rhythm at the start sounds slightly tentative, like the song is peeking out and looking for permission to gallop and strut.
Tanya Donnelly’s voice is what really makes this song, though. I love the way she sounds hopeful and a little coy on the verses, like she’s heading into some unknown situation with cautious optimism. I suppose that’s why it’s called “Puberty” – it’s the cusp of adulthood, and that all seems great except for everything that’s awkward and weird, which is a majority of it. The lyrics on the chorus and bridge are cryptic but lovely, with Donnelly imagines having deliberate control over some magical light. The contrast is clever – the rest of the song is about feeling uncertain, and the part that’s most emphatic is about imagining agency, power, and meaning.
Buy it from Amazon.
March 3rd, 2016
Everything Extraordinaire
Pavement “Old to Begin”
I took art classes at Pratt on weekends in my senior year of high school, and took the train down to Manhattan from where I grew up in the suburbs. Not long after Brighten the Corners came out, I developed a routine upon arriving at Grand Central. As soon as the door of the Metro North train opened, I’d start the album on “Stereo,” with its wobbling intro shifting into a mellow strut. I’d play the album through on my way to Bleecker Street, and like clockwork, “Old to Begin” would start up as I got out of the subway train and walked up to the street. I heavily associate “Old to Begin” with that visual, and the feeling of being a teenager so hyped up about New York City and art and music. (Still my three favorite things!) I don’t think I felt ~cool~, but I definitely felt cooler than I’d ever been, and just wanted to soak up as much of Stephen Malkmus’ casual genius and effortlessly chill in the hope that I could be even a little more like that. (Still a thing I’m trying to do!)
Malkmus was 30 when Brighten the Corners was recorded, and it’s pretty clear from the lyrics that he was thinking a lot about aging, and what aspects of adulthood and domesticity were appealing to him, and what just seemed like an empty ritual. He’s thinking about a lot of things that inspire a lot of anxiety and tension in other people, but at most, there’s only traces of those feelings on Brighten. It’s not about the fear of growing older, but rather what happens when you’re old enough to feel comfortable being yourself, and relax and go with the flow a bit. Everything on the record sounds sunny and nonchalant, even when he drifts into moments of doubt or regret. Music is rarely so well-adjusted, with every note, thought, image, and feeling given weight, but also a sense of appropriate perspective.
“Old to Begin” is loosely about a young person’s idea of feeling old, which is usually melodramatic self-deprecation, or reaching for a status that hasn’t been attained just yet. There’s a nice sturdy sway to the rhythm of this song – it doesn’t quite convey swagger, but it does get across a playful confidence. There’s a litany of minor complaints in the lyrics, but the sound shrugs it all off, and nudges in the direction of some bolder, brighter feeling.
And underneath all that, “Old to Begin” is a very low-key breakup song. He’s telling you that he’ll “set you back” in the chorus, and proposes a mutually beneficial end to a relationship: “Time came that we drifted apart and found an unidentical twin.” I’ve always liked that line because there’s no ill will in it at all, just this acknowledgment that a relationship has run its course, and that it doesn’t have to be a sad thing. From his perspective, they both need something challenging and new, and he doesn’t want to get in the way. I can see how being told this could be infuriating, but I think it’s ultimately very thoughtful and kind.
Buy it from Amazon.
March 4th, 2016
Never Ending Love Is What We Found
Belinda Carlisle “Circle in the Sand”
Did you know that the same guy who co-wrote this song and other Belinda Carlisle hits like “Heaven Is A Place On Earth” is also responsible for co-authoring the majority of the Lana Del Rey catalog (including “Shades of Cool,” “Summertime Sadness,” “West Coast,” “Young & Beautiful,” and all ofHoneymoon), plus “You Get What You Give” by New Radicals, “Falling Into You” by Celine Dion, “I Follow Rivers” by Lykke Li, “White Flag” by Dido, “Loud Places” by Jamie xx, and “Good to Love” by FKA Twigs? His name is Rick Nowels, and it’s shocking that he’s not more well known, particularly as he’s become this go-to collaborator for indie-identified artists who want to have crossover hits.
“Circle in the Sand,” co-written by Nowels with Ellen Shipley, was one of his earliest hits, and song that cast Carlisle in a new light. Carlisle’s work in the Go-Go’s traded on youthful exuberance and a punk/new wave approach to bubblegum pop, but her solo work – and this song in particular – took the sort of broad, romantic yearning she did so well and nudged it in a darker, witchier direction. There’s a massive Stevie Nicks influence on this song, from the melody and arrangement on down to Carlisle’s voice, which gets a bit raspier than usual. Nowels had actually worked with Nicks prior to writing for Carlisle, so it makes sense that this influence would carry over, and this music came out around the same time as Fleetwood Mac’s Tango in the Night, which has a very similar aesthetic mixing rock mysticism with high-gloss late ‘80s production.
I love the way the melodies in “Circle in the Sand” seem to move in circles, so much that if the song gets stuck in my head – which it does very often – it sorta loops around without moving into a bridge. This motif works really well in songs about romantic love, gently suggesting a one-track mind, or endless devotion. Carlisle’s vocal performance is so earnest that it’d be hard to read this as any kind of dark obsession. The longing in this song is so pure; the only negative feeling is the drag of being separated for any length of time.
Buy it from Amazon.