The voice of then-16-year-old New Zealander Hayley Westenra was (and is) a wondrous instrument, with enviable range and immaculate diction. “Never Say Goodbye” is adapted from Ravel, in case the tune is familiar.
In addition to possessing an angelic voice, Westenra is also a dancer who has performed with the Royal New Zealand ballet company.
Budding songwriters and fledgling lyricists, look on the work of William Martin Joel and despair.
The average Billy Joel composition is a compact master class in lyric writing. This guy just gets so many things right, most of which escape a typical listener as he hums “Just the Way You Are”, or rocks out to “Big Shot”, or sings along with any number of dozens of Joel’s classic entries in our collective cultural hymnal.
By the way, I’ve long held the opinion Billy Joel was the best pop lyricist of his era. And I’m pretty sure “Only the Good Die Young” is the best pop rock lyric of the past 40 years. But since everyone knows that song and dozens of other pop masterpieces in Joel’s oeuvre, the focus of this particular series of posts forces me to delve into what passes for “deep cut” territory to talk about the man’s talents.
A deep cut this may be, but certainly not of lesser quality than the singles chosen from 1986’s The Bridge album. “Modern Woman”, “This is the Time” and “A Matter of Trust” are fine songs–but the twitchy lyrical joyride that is “Running on Ice” would itself have made a great single.
One thing about Joel’s writing that has always stood out to me is that he never seems content to simply observe pop music norm in repeating a chorus; Joel raises his game by varying the lyric with each. Frequently you could even say he customizes each chorus to suit its accompanying verse.
The first chorus here begins with “Sometimes I feel as though I’m running on ice…” which not only sums up what came before in verse one, but makes a good introduction, so to speak, to the song’s hook line and concept.
When the second chorus rolls around, preceded as it is by the flood of multisyllabic elocution that is verse two, it almost serves as a punchline when he says “And all that means is that I’m running on ice…” Brilliant.
The song is lavishly littered with alliteration, assonance and internal rhyme. What’s more, since the same torrent of verbiage that makes this a great lyric also tends to make it a bit of a challenge to sing along to, Joel supplies a well-placed bridge (You’ve got to run…) to momentarily relieve the tension and give the listener something to belt out. Genius.
This is no typical song. It’s a great one. Though that makes it a typical Billy Joel song.
There’s a lot of tension in this town I know it’s building up inside of me I’ve got all the symptoms and the side effects Of city life anxiety
I could never understand why the urban attitude Is so superior In a world of high rise ambition Most people’s motives are ulterior
Sometimes I feel as though I’m running on ice Paying the price too long Kind of get the feeling that I’m running on ice Where did my life go wrong
I’m a cosmopolitan sophisticate Of culture and intelligence The culmination of technology And civilized experience
But I’m carrying the weight of all the useless junk A modern man accumulates I’m a statistic in a system That a civil servant dominates
And all that means is that I’m running on ice Caught in the vise so strong I’m slipping and sliding, cause I’m running on ice Where did my life go wrong
You’ve got to run You’ve got to run
As fast as I can climb A new disaster every time I turn around As soon as I get one fire put out There’s another building burning down
They say this highway’s going my way But I don’t know where it’s taking me It’s a bad waste, a sad case, a rat race It’s breaking me
I get no traction cause I’m running on ice It’s taking me twice as long I get a bad reaction cause I’m running on ice Where did my life go wrong
You’ve got to run You’ve got to run
Running on ice Running on ice Running on ice Running on ice
Ex-Walkmen singer-songwriter Walter Martin’s We’re All Young Together isn’t necessarily a children’s album per se–more a record inspired by his becoming a father. But its songs can be appreciated by any very young child–or anyone whose inner child is still alive and well.
“Sing 2 Me” is a duet with the Yeah Yeah Yeah’s Karen O whose lyric typifies the playful tone of the album, marrying it with the fragile, magical twee of acts like the Weepies.
Originally released on the Lightbulb Sun album in 2000, the single version of “Shesmovedon” actually reached #4 on New Music Express‘ Independent chart across the pond that year.
The band later re-recorded the song during the sessions for 2005’s Deadwing LP and it is included as an unlisted bonus track on the American version of that record.
It’s this slightly punchier, guitars-to-the-fore version we present here, and it’s one more example (of the many throughout this blog) of Steven Wilson’s songwriting and production prowess.
A poignant reflection on the end of life. As I wrote elsewhere in this blog: This is the kind of song most rock bands wouldn’t touch; it takes balls, frankly, to sing about the surrender of earthly cares and the forgiveness of sins within the rock arena. This is the kind of song that makes Asia’s John Payne era matter. With none of the Wetton-Downes power harmony bluster Asia is known for, “Ready to Go Home” might actually be the boldest artistic statement in their catalog.
Co-written by Andrew (“Thank You for Being a Friend”) Gold and 10cc alum Graham Gouldman.
On the street below these walls Where I used to walk Now I can barely crawl All this darkness rising tall Lord, shine a light for me I’m waiting to be called
I’m ready to go home I’m ready to receive Forgiveness for my sins I’m ready to begin
Take this river to the sea Where the delta flows The tide is washing over me Guide this soul to heaven’s door Show me where tomorrow lies I’m waiting to be born
I’m ready to lay down I’m ready now to sleep A promise I must keep I’m ready to go home
Sometimes I lay down with these memories Breathe shallow deep inside of me When time has run its course with me And I’m ready to go home
When the evening shadows fall When the time has come I’ll let defenses fall To surrender’s to survive I will give up everything To those I leave behind
Fairport Convention’s second album, What We Did on Our Holidays, was Sandy Denny’s debut with the band. What she brought in the way of ethereal vocals and songwriting capability (she wrote “Fotheringay”) made an already formidable lineup even stronger.
That’s guitar legend Richard Thompson, still a teenager when this was recorded, providing the fluid, folky and atmospheric acoustic guitar. So much was ahead for Thompson, who showed a necessary restraint within the confines of mostly three-minute songs at this stage of Fairport’s existence. He soon left the band to record as a solo act (which he still does today) and to make a series of well-regarded albums with (now ex) wife Linda Thompson. His own material provides a format more conducive to his cutting loose with jaw-dropping solos.
Richard was fortunate enough to have recorded with the two women regarded as the best British female folk singers of all time in Sandy Denny and Linda Thompson.
As for Denny, she left Fairport a few years later as well, forming a new folk band whose name was shared with this song, Fotheringay. Her life was cut tragically short in 1978 when, having fallen down a staircase and hit her head on concrete, she died of a trauma-related brain hemorrhage a few weeks later.