10-Song Introductions: Pulp

Getting into an artist, especially an established one, is no easy task. There's often a daunting amount of material to sift through, along with the possibility of being called a bandwagon jumper. With this feature, I'll try to introduce you to the best aspects of an artist, with the hope that you'll hear something you like.

Pulp are (were):
Jarvis Cocker (vocals)
Candida Doyle (keyboard)
Mark Webber (guitar)
Steve Mackey (bass)
Russell Senior (guitar/violin)
Nick Banks (drums)

1. Common People
Truth be told, a "10-Song Introduction" to Pulp is a bit unnecessary given the undeniable brilliance of their released singles. The compilation "Hits" collects these singles into one incredible package and is a great place to start for any aspiring Pulp fan. Standing at the forefront of those singles is "Common People", which is not unlike "Like a Rolling Stone" in several ways--it's simultaneously one of the groups's best and most well known songs, and it tackles potent issues of class and identity:

Rent a flat above a shop, cut your hair and get a job.
Smoke some fags and play some pool, pretend you never went to school.
But still you'll never get it right
'cos when you're laid in bed at night watching roaches climb the wall
If you call your Dad he could stop it all.

Besides being a massive tune, the ability of people to relate to the story of an upper-class girl "slumming it" at an English art school is what made this a Britpop anthem. But the idea of class is not only a European concern--contrary to what American politicians might have you believe. As culture and the arts increasingly become an elites-only game in the US, Jarvis Cocker's diatribe against a posh girl from Greece only becomes more relevant.

Listen:

[Download the MP3 Here]

2. Disco 2000
Probably Pulp's second most recognizable song, this is a wistful, upbeat tale of unrequited love and nostalgia. Behind the narrator's longing is a deep sadness and even desperation. Cocker sings about how he and a girl lived very different lives--she was the beautiful girl down the street and he was the awkward kid who knew her through family. What's even sadder is how Cocker still longs for her even as a grown man:

What are you doing Sunday, baby?
Would you like to come and meet me, maybe?
You can even bring your baby.

This being Pulp, these stalker-ish sentiments are bathed in the warm glow of "Gloria"-aping pop, underpinned by a (what else) disco beat. On paper, it sounds terrible. Coming through one's speakers, however, it's a totally different animal: It's the kind of absurd amalgamation that only Pulp in their golden period were capable of.


3. I Spy
A lot of people have difficult childhoods. They live in fear and wallow in high school obscurity, seeing their obvious wit and brilliance go unnoticed by the pretty girl who is more interested in the school soccer star. Most of those people grow up and move on. Not Jarvis--he gets revenge.

But we're not talking revenge in the angst-y, Marilyn Manson/Pearl Jam's "Jeremy" sense of the word. No, Jarvis knows that the best revenge is returning to that small town and seducing that pretty girl (now middle aged) while the former soccer star (now fat and balding) is away at his office job:

You see you should take me seriously.
Very seriously indeed.
Cause I've been sleeping with your wife for the past sixteen weeks,
smoking your cigarettes,
drinking your brandy,
messing up the bed that you chose together.
And in all that time I just wanted you to come home unexpectedly one afternoon,
and catch us at it in the front room.
You see I spy for a living,
and I specialise in revenge,
on taking the things I know will cause you pain.
I can't help it,
I was dragged up.
My favourite parks are car parks,
grass is something you smoke,
birds are something you shag.
Take your "Year in Provence"
and shove it up your arse.

Listen:

[Download the MP3 Here]

4. A Little Soul
Another Pulp concoction of seemingly disparate elements--John Cougar Mellencamp guitar, lyrics about a dad telling his young son not to become a depraved bastard like him--that the band turns into a true thing of beauty. On the album "This is Hardcore", Jarvis has several tearjerker lines, but none as heartbreaking as this:

You look like me
but you're not like me I know.
I had one, two, three, four shots of happiness.
I look like a big man but I've only got a little soul.

Listen:

[Download the MP3 Here]

5. This is Hardcore
Late-period Britpop saw a host of troubling musical developments as artists tried to keep things fresh, one primary tactic being the introduction of long songs. The longer, the more poignant, they would have us believe. "This is Hardcore", however, is one of the few diamonds in that rough. Yes it's long, but it's long for a reason. Jarvis' epic analogy of fame and porn, accompanied by an excellent video, made this one of the best songs of the late 90s.


6. Razzmatazz
Nobody does the scorned lover routine quite like Jarvis. In his bitterness, he's not beyond waiting months or even years to see that ex-girlfriend lose her looks and fall on hard times. Come on, it doesn't get more petty than this:

You started getting fatter three weeks after I left you
Now you're going with some kid looks like some bad comedian
Are you gonna go out, are you sitting at home eating boxes of Milk Tray?
Watch TV on your own, aren't you the one with your razzmatazz
and your nights on the town?
Oh-oh-oh And your father wants to help you doesn't he babe?
But your mother wants to put you away
Now no-one's gonna care if you don't call them when you said
And he's not coming round tonight to try and talk you into bed
And all those stupid little things they ain't working
Oh they aren't working at all

Listen:

[Download the MP3 Here]

7. Babies
While this is far from this reviewer's favorite Pulp song, no introduction would be complete without it. "Babies" is Jarvis in storytelling mode, and represents perhaps the most engaging narrative he's ever committed to tape. The subject matter would seem trivial, if not downright sleazy: a teenage Jarvis watching his girlfriend's older sister make it with boys in her room. But Jarvis pulls the whole story off with wit and yes, innocence ("I only went with her 'cause she looks like you") so that he comes off as more endearing than perverted. Live versions of this song were often prefaced with one of Jarvis' lengthy monologues--an underrated aspect of Pulp's appeal as a live act.

8. Live Bed Show
Like "I Spy", this song represents the darker side of Pulp's defining album "Different Class", both musically and thematically. As Russell and Candida set a gloomy stage behind him, Jarvis sings about love gone wrong, cleverly wrapping the story around the couple's bed:

She doesn't have to go to work,
but she doesn't want to stay in bed,
cos it's changed from something comfortable,
to something else instead.

9. Dishes
According to Jarvis, he wrote this song after hearing the theory that men raised in the West go through a mid-life crisis at 33 because they realize they won't be Christ. Originally seeming like little more than an afterthought than a full-fledged song, "Dishes" blossoms into a beautiful climax:

And aren't you happy just to be alive?
Anything's possible.
You've got no Cross to bear tonight.
No not tonight.
No not tonight.



10. Sunrise
With Pulp having lost a good deal of their commercial mojo with "This is Hardcore", the British press falsely assumed that the band had lost most of their creative fire as well. That couldn't be farther from the truth: the band's final effort, "We Love Life", is remarkably consistent and just as artistically bold as its predecessors. Produced by legendary cult crooner Scott Walker, the album is full of big booming percussion and has a more acoustic feel than previous Pulp records. The album's closer, and high-point, is "Sunrise", an admission from Jarvis that he has squandered his youth:


I used to hate the sun because it shone on everything I'd done.
Made me feel that all that I had done was overfill the ashtray of my life.

It ends with a dizzying guitar freak-out led by Mark Webber and sometimes guest guitarist (and now bona fide solo artist) Richard Hawley. It's an exhilarating final glimpse of a band frequently misunderstood, yet unfailingly brilliant.

Listen:

[Download the MP3 Here]

[Band Wiki]

10-Song Introductions: Belle and Sebastian

Getting into an artist, especially an established one, is no easy task. There's often a daunting amount of material to sift through, along with the possibility of being called a bandwagon jumper. With this feature, I'll try to introduce you to the best aspects of an artist, with the hope that you'll hear something you like.

1. The State I Am In
This perfect example of Stuart Murdoch's wit and knack for a tune introduced Belle & Sebastian to those lucky enough to have heard "Tigermilk" when it was first released. Besides being the opening track on that no-longer rare, yet still much-coveted, debut album, an earlier demo version appears on the "Dog on Wheels" EP. Both are equally good, although if pressed, I'd have to say the EP version gets my vote.

2. Get Me Away From Here, I'm Dying
A bouncy, upbeat track that sums up the Belle and Sebastian ethos in its opening lines: "Get me away from here I'm dying...paint me a song to set me free...nobody writes them like they used to so it may as well be me." In the hands of a lesser songwriter, such a line could come off as pretentious. With Murdoch, it's more of an 'aww shucks' moment that's helped by a simple fact: it's true.

Listen:

[Download the MP3 Here]

3. Sleep the Clock Around
This song has a subtle, insistent momentum to it that's quite unique: Stuart and Isobel Campbell share vocal duties over a bed of keyboards; threadbare, electronic-sounding drums; and some downright weird sounds. This is an interesting tangent for the group, one that they would never duplicate on later recordings. It's a shame, because it's one of their most infectious and endearing pieces.

Listen:

[Download the MP3 Here]

Influence Note: "Hooligans on E" by Pete Doherty of The Libertines, particularly the version heard on "The Sailor Sessions", bears an unmistakable resemblance to this song.

4. Dirty Dream #2
This upbeat number is possibly the finest moment on "The Boy with the Arab Strap", with the ensemble trying their hand at soul music. A dramatic, if playful, string section floats over a steady backbeat provided by Richard Colburn. Even with Campbell's sumptuous harmonies further contributing to the romantic musical atmosphere, Murdoch can't help being a little devious: "Could you put a name to someone else's sigh? Could you put a face to someone else's eyes?"

5. String Bean Jean
Another highlight from the excellent "Dog on Wheels" EP, this fits the early Belle and Sebastian mode of Murdoch singing like Nick Drake whilst describing his interactions with an eccentric girl. Of course, if as many beautiful, well-read indie girls with pixie haircuts existed as he would have us believe, the world would be a much more interesting place. As it stands, we'll have to settle for Murdoch's colorful imagination:

She asked me "Do I need to lose a bit of weight?"
And I told her "Don't be stupid 'cause you're looking great"
And I call her String Bean Jean because the label on her jeans says
Seven to eight years old - well that's pretty small

Listen:

[Download the MP3 Here]

6. The Boy Done Wrong Again
When it comes to the best B&S ballad, the possibilities are numerous, but this one probably deserves special mention. "Hang your head in shame and cry your life away", Murdoch sings, and many are probably tempted to think he's singing about his sorry lot in life. But that would be a shallow reading of the song's intent--if anything, Murdoch is tenderly poking fun at himself much like Morrissey did in "Please, Please, Please, Let me Get What I Want":

All I wanted was to sing the saddest songs
If somebody sings along I will be happy now

The woodland spring will put the darkness from your thinking
If this town's your sinking ship
Then you know where to jump

7. Judy and the Dream of Horses
This whimsical jaunt rounds out B&S's masterpiece "If You're Feeling Sinister". Even in a band known for its great trumpet solos, Mick Cooke's part here really stands out. Building from a delicate strum into an undeniable toe-tapper, this is a persuasive example of Murdoch's ability to craft big music from limited means. It's also wickedly funny:

The best looking boys are taken
The best looking boys are staying inside
So Judy, where does that leave you?
Walking the street from morning to night
With a star upon your shoulder lighting up the path that youwalk
With a parrot on your shoulder, saying everything when you talk

Listen:

[Download the MP3 Here]

8. I Know Where the Summer Goes
A simple, easy ballad just like its name suggests, this is undoubtedly one of the most beautiful things Belle & Sebastian ever committed to tape. As a b-side to the "This is Just a Modern Rock Song EP", it also represents a time just before the disastrous end of the band's musical winning streak.

Listen:

[Download the MP3 Here]

9. I Fought in a War
Another album opener, another whispered intro. Being perhaps the only song on "Fold Your Hands Child, You Walk Like a Peasant" to climb the heady heights of the band's previous output, this song is both a high point and the beginning of the end. The conclusion of Belle and Sebastian's virtually unparalleled songwriting run unfolds like a slow-motion car crash over the course of "Peasant"; "War", however, is a marvel: a touching story conveyed with a brilliant melody, it's deceptively simple like all the best B&S songs are.


10. Another Sunny Day
As an infectious burst of jangly pop brimming with spot-on three-part harmonies, this song puts most of its musical brethren on "The Life Pursuit" to shame. The band's unsung hero, guitarist Stevie Jackson, really shines here. Murdoch, meanwhile, tells the story of a doomed love affair--from the first moments to its last throes--like very few are capable of. The song ends on a particularly poignant note:


The lovin is a mess; what happened to all of the feeling?
I thought it was for real; babies, rings and fools kneeling
And words of pledging trust and lifetimes stretching forever
So what went wrong? It was a lie, it crumbled apart
Ghost figures of past, present, future haunting the heart

Listen:

[Download the MP3 Here]

[Band Website]
[Read my review of "Just a Modern Rock Story"]

10-Song Introductions: Bob Dylan

Getting into an artist, especially an established one, is no easy task. There's often a daunting amount of material to sift through, along with the possibility of being called a bandwagon jumper. With this feature, I'll try to introduce you to the best aspects of an artist, with the hope that you'll hear something you like.

1. Like a Rolling Stone (Highway 61 Revisited)
As I've written previously, "'Like a Rolling Stone' is probably Dylan's crowning achievement, the sort of song you instantly recognize even if you think you've never heard it before." It's a six-minute "I told you so", as Dylan excoriates a unwitting debutante after her fall from grace. Yes, there would seem to be a sense of smugness, of misogynist satisfaction in the singer's voice, but it's really more about a generation coming to terms with its bourgeoisie dreams being shattered by reality. Oh, and the guitar and keyboard work isn't half-bad either.

Listen:

[Download the MP3]

Live:

2. Maggie's Farm (Bringing it all Back Home)
Like its musical twin on "Bringing it all Back Home", "Subterranean Homesick Blues", "Maggie's Farm" is dripping with social satire. It takes as its context a farm run by Maggie and her megalomaniac next of kin:

I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more.
No, I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more.
Well, I wake in the morning,
Fold my hands and pray for rain.
I got a head full of ideas
That are drivin' me insane.
It's a shame the way she makes me scrub the floor.
I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more...

I ain't gonna work for Maggie's pa no more.
No, I ain't gonna work for Maggie's pa no more.
Well, he puts his cigar
Out in your face just for kicks.
His bedroom window
It is made out of bricks.
The National Guard stands around his door.
Ah, I ain't gonna work for Maggie's pa no more.

An early electric version of the song ruffled feathers at the Newport Folk Festival in 1965:


3. Mama, You've Been on my Mind (Bootleg Series #2)
This simple folk song, left off of "Another Side of Bob Dylan" at the last minute, is, for my money, Dylan's finest romantic moment. The sense of longing, of unrequited love, is simply unmatched. That being said, it's all filtered through that trademark Dylan cool and unwillingness to show vulnerability:

Perhaps it's the color of the sun cut flat
An' cov'rin' the crossroads I'm standing at,
Or maybe it's the weather or something like that,
But mama, you been on my mind.

I don't mean trouble, please don't put me down or get upset,
I am not pleadin' or sayin', "I can't forget."
I do not walk the floor bowed down an' bent, but yet,
Mama, you been on my mind.

Even though my mind is hazy an' my thoughts they might be narrow,
Where you been don't bother me nor bring me down in sorrow.
It don't even matter to me where you're wakin' up tomorrow,
But mama, you're just on my mind.

Listen:

[Download the MP3 Here]

Cover Note: Jeff Buckley does a notable cover version of this song, which can be found on the legacy edition of "Grace" from 2004.

4. My Back Pages (Another Side of Bob Dylan)
As far as Dylan's protest songs go, it's probably between this one and "Blowin' in the Wind" for most inspiring and/or moving performance. While "Blowin' in the Wind" is equally good, I've chosen "My Back Pages" because it's less well known and a bit more world-weary: it's really about Dylan's disillusionment with being a topical "protest" singer in the first place. Dylan subverts the concepts of naiveté and experience as only he can:

In a soldier's stance, I aimed my hand
At the mongrel dogs who teach
Fearing not that I'd become my enemy
In the instant that I preach
My pathway led by confusion boats
Mutiny from stern to bow.
Ah, but I was so much older then,
I'm younger than that now.

5. Masters of War (The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan)
Dylan's most succinct indictment of the military-industrial complex and the ideologues in government that rationalize and drive it: one would have to be blind to not see the parallels between this song and current events:

Come you masters of war
You that build all the guns
You that build the death planes
You that build the big bombs
You that hide behind walls
You that hide behind desks
I just want you to know
I can see through your masks

You that never done nothin'
But build to destroy
You play with my world
Like it's your little toy
You put a gun in my hand
And you hide from my eyes
And you turn and run farther
When the fast bullets fly..

You fasten the triggers
For the others to fire
Then you set back and watch
When the death count gets higher
You hide in your mansion
As young people's blood
Flows out of their bodies
And is buried in the mud

Listen:

[Download the MP3 Here]

6. Sad Eyed Lady of the Lowlands (Blonde on Blonde)
This eleven-minute epic is the perfect summation of the fantastic "Blonde on Blonde". It's a sprawling, hypnotic piece that Dylan composed to win the heart of Sara Lownds (the song's title is a play on her name). According to accounts of those in the studio at the time, Dylan gave very rudimentary instructions and then began playing. At several points in the song, you can actually hear the band play as if they believe the song is coming to its conclusion, yet Dylan just keeps singing, verse after eloquent verse:

The kings of Tyrus with their convict list
Are waiting in line for their geranium kiss,
And you wouldn't know it would happen like this,
But who among them really wants just to kiss you?
With your childhood flames on your midnight rug,
And your Spanish manners and your mother's drugs,
And your cowboy mouth and your curfew plugs,
Who among them do you think could resist you?
Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands,
Where the sad-eyed prophet says that no man comes,
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums,
Should I leave them by your gate,
Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?

Influence Note: Thom Yorke has cited this as one of his favorite songs.

7. Love Minus Zero/No Limit (Bringing it All Back Home)
Easily one of the most tender moments of Dylan's middle period, yet "Love Minus Zero" never seems to get the attention it deserves. This song would lay the groundwork for many an indie ballad in the years to come: the music is a sort of breezy jingle-jangle; the lilting, circular melody is never interrupted by something so trivial as a chorus. The essence of folk rock, in other words.


8. Bob Dylan's 115th Dream (Bringing it All Back Home)
Beginning with a false start and a (rare) crack-up from Dylan, this almost seven-minute absurdist fantasy is a light-hearted counterpoint to some of the heavier songs on "Bringing it all Back Home". After landing in America on the "Mayflower", the narrator gets into trouble:

Well, I rapped upon a house
With the U.S. flag upon display
I said, "Could you help me out
I got some friends down the way"
The man says, "Get out of here
I'll tear you limb from limb"
I said, "You know they refused Jesus, too"
He said, "You're not Him"

Listen:

[Download the MP3 Here]

9. If You See Her, Say Hello (Outtake Version)
Although it will probably get me kicked out of the Bob Dylan fan club, I'll say that I can't stand "Blood on the Tracks", primarily for its production. A ghastly studio sheen obscures what are otherwise powerful songs. Fortunately, we have outtakes like this acoustic version of "If You See Her, Say Hello". Dylan, with more heartbreak and disappointment behind him, revisits the sentiments of "Mama You've Been on my Mind" with a tangible sense of pain in his voice:

I see a lot of people as I make the rounds
And I hear her name here and there as I go from town to town
And I've never gotten used to it, I've just learned to turn it off
Either I'm too sensitive or else I'm gettin' soft.

Listen:

[Download the MP3 Here]

10. Ballad of a Thin Man (Highway 61 Visited)
A slow, lurching blues, "Thin Man" was probably Dylan's darkest recording up to that point. An act of metaphorical character assassination, not unlike "Rolling Stone", would seem to be the objective here: "Because something is happening here...But you don't know what it is...Do you, Mister Jones?"

10-Song Introductions: The Libertines

Getting into a band, especially an established one, is no easy task. There's often a daunting amount of material to sift through, along with the possibility of being called a bandwagon jumper. With this new feature, I'll try to introduce you to the best aspects of a band, with the hope that you'll hear something you like.

This week's artist: The Libertines

1. "Up The Bracket" ("Up the Bracket" LP)
From the bohemian absurdity of the video, to the slightly awkward pop sensibility of the song (something that many have tried, and failed, to duplicate), this was my proper introduction to the Libs. It's a perfect representation of the band's manic creative energy around the release of their debut album.

2. "Time for Heroes" ("Up the Bracket" LP)
Featuring the finest use of triplets in a long while, this was when many people stood up and took notice. For good reason, too. Match a touch of doomed romanticism ("We'll die in the class we were born--that's a class of our own my love") with the grittiness of The Clash, and you have in less than three minutes what many bands spend a lifetime trying to capture.

3. "The Delaney" ("Up the Bracket" Single)
At first blush, this is a simple pop-punk song. But further investigation reveals guitar work with echoes of Marr, and lyrics with echoes of Reed. Easily the most infectious song The Libertines ever created.

Listen:

[Download the MP3 Here]

4. "Don't Look Back Into The Sun" (Babyshambles Sessions)
Although people are probably most familiar with the studio version, the original demos of the song from the Babyshambles Sessions are the real treat. Sounding like a track that was left off of the C86 mixtape, this is a chance for Pete to show-off his indie-pop bonafides.

Listen:

[Download the MP3 Here]

5. "Can't Stand Me Now" ("The Libertines" LP)
Another perfect example of why The Libertines' second record should have been the best pure rock record since "Definitely Maybe". Pete had no business writing a bridge so incredible, or lyrics so perfectly poignant: "Cornered, the boy kicked out at the world--the world kicked back, a lot fucking harder."

6. "What Katie Did" ("Babyshambles" B-Side)
There are many versions of this song floating around. The worst being, ironically, the one that appeared on "The Libertines" LP. This song appeared on the original Babyshambles sessions and immediately stood out because of its unabashed pop stylings: "shoop, shoop, shoop de-lang-a-lang".

Listen:

[Download the MP3 Here]

7. "What a Waster" (UK: Single, USA: "Up the Bracket" LP)
The much talked about debut single, this was produced by former Suede guitarist Bernard Butler. Thus, the sound is more intricate guitar-wise, yet lacks some of the punch of the "Up the Bracket" material. Pete makes up for it with an absolutely brilliant vocal which both revives archaic cockney slang and references everything from the Book of Revelations to Ulysses. Truly, only in a Libertines song.

8. "Ha Ha Wall" ("The Libertines" LP)
This is one of Pete's strongest compositions, an early favorite despite not receiving the proper studio treatment until "The Libertines". It turns up on the Babyshambles Sessions, the Sailor Sessions, and the French Sessions. The Smiths influence reveals itself again, paired with a striking lyric: "I've been thieving; I stole the light from the dawn."

9. "The Man Who Would Be King" (Babyshambles Sessions)
This demo of a song that would later appear on "The Libertines" demonstrated a new level of subtlety and complexity, qualities that would mysteriously vanish from the proper studio recording. The song also set impossibly high expectations for the second record, expectations that would be dashed by rushed performances and little-to-no production.

Listen:

[Download the MP3 Here]

10. "The Good Old Days" ("Up the Bracket" LP)
This song neatly summed up the Libertines manifesto: "There were no good old days--these are the good old days". A song about triumphing over drug abuse and other calamities, it contains that distinctly Libertines mix of despair and hope.