Sometimes I wonder if this category should be called “Songs That Haunt Me”. This one is hovering close by tonight, as I call to mind someone who’s “gone in some foreign direction”.
I occasionally worry that I may be revealing too much about my own life in the songs I recommend, so I can only imagine the excruciating soul-baring of the songwriter.
Anyway, most any song that mentions Icarus metaphorically is one that must be passed along, so here ya go…
BT (Brian Transeau from Rockville, Maryland) is a classically trained musician who attended the Berklee College of Music at age 15. He is also widely regarded as one of the forefathers of today’s electronic music and a creator of the house music sub-genre known as “trance”. If that weren’t enough, he has developed revolutionary new music programming and software technologies and, over the course of a 15-year career, worked with such biggies as Peter Gabriel, David Bowie, Sting, Seal, Britney Spears and Madonna.
These Humble Machines is a single-disc truncation of BT’s two-disc These Hopeful Machines album, which was nominated for a Grammy for Best Electronic/Dance album. For the non-trance fan, it’s a more palatable distillation of the longer work, trimming songs of 8- and 11-minutes duration to a more digestible 4-to-6 or so.
As for the “Electronic/Dance album” tag, that’s somewhat misleading in and of itself. Because if you’re not a fan of the genre and BT in particular, what you won’t know is that this is an album which can be appreciated as much or more for its rock and pop elements as for its electronic leanings. Its fusion of styles is unique in BT’s catalogue and possibly in all of contemporary pop. While some songs (especially the instrumental tracks) are indeed electronic and trance music extravaganzas, at least half of These Humble Machines consists of pop rock or pop prog songs with linear lyrics and a rock backbeat overlaid with electronic flourishes.
I’m reminded of when Yes (considered dinosaurs even then) burst back on the scene in 1983 with the Trevor Horn-produced 90125 album and a leaner, contemporized sound that included keyboard sampling. BT has created, in some ways, a modern equivalent–similarly offering up (what are to my ears at least) rock songs topped off with colorful avant-pop sprinkles. I’m not sure if BT has made rock music for the house music audience or house music for rock fans. But, approaching this record from a rock fan’s perspective, I hear propulsive songs with ecstatic choruses in musical settings that feature electronic sounds and keyboards mostly assuming the traditional rock guitar role. And the result is fresh and exhilarating.
“Suddenly” might best typify the album’s blending of genres. “Always” sounds to me, lyrically, like a “Born to Run” update (minus the motorbike motif). And “Love Can Kill You” seems content to simmer in its own groove for a minute and a half before suddenly exploding into a flat-out killer chorus.
“Best Electronic/Dance Album”? I can’t speak to that. But if there were a category called “Best Album for Blaring Out an Open Window at High Volume”, this album would have certainly deserved that Grammy.
Jarvis Cocker and company explore the role of Fate’s fickle hand in love. This one may bring a tear if you’re so inclined:
I wrote this song two hours before we met/I didn’t know your name or what you looked like yet
I could have stayed at home and gone to bed/I could have gone to see a film instead/You might have changed your mind and seen your friend/Life could’ve been very different but then: Something Changed
Do you believe that there’s someone up above?/And does he have a timetable directing acts of love?
Why did I write this song on that one day?/Why did you touch my hand and softly say/Stop asking questions that don’t matter anyway/Just give us a kiss to celebrate here today: Something Changed
When we woke up that morning we had no way of knowing/That in a matter of hours we’d change the way we were going
Where would I be now if we’d never met?/Would I be singing this song to someone else instead?/I don’t know but like you just said: Something Changed
Here, for the first time, I won’t shy away from that dreaded word so overused in the appraisal of music: “underrated”. Because while plenty of 70’s progressive rock displayed more complexity or virtuosity, none exhibited more sheer beauty than the best of David Cousins’ compositions–yet he and his band are anything but household names, even to those who grew up listening to the music of the era.
“Autumn”, from Strawbs’ great 1974 Hero and Heroine LP, has three distinct movements. The first (instrumental) section, “Hero’s Theme”, sets the mood: somber, mournful. Part two, “Deep Summer’s Sleep” finds Cousins wistfully contemplating the approach of autumn in beautifully poetic style. Part three, “The Winter Long” is sung by Dave Lambert, whose voice is more suited to the romantic sentiment of the final portion, and it concludes with climactic unison singing and swelling Mellotron. I’m pretty comfortable calling this one a masterpiece, from a great band in the prime of their career.
Strawbs evolved during the ’70’s from folk to folk-rock to baroque progressive rock as their lineup and focus shifted. But the inspired vision of David Cousins remained at the core of their music throughout. I most heartily recommend Strawbs to anyone who at all appreciates art rock from any era. One of my two or three favorite bands. Very underrated!
I sense Autumn coming on The mist has hung low all day Small birds gather on the wing Preparing to make their way.
The trees begin to show A trace of brown among the green Bringing back the memories That only you and I have seen.
I sense Autumn coming on The sun sinking red and deep The fires burning in the fields As late Summer falls asleep.
The leaves begin to scatter As the North wind calls their name Folding gently back into The silent earth from which they came.
Still waters flow Sea breezes blow Wild flowers grow Abundant at your feet.
Soft falling snow Warm candle glow Flushed faces show The pleasure when we meet.
Hold on to me, I’ll hold on to you The winter long I will always be with you. Hold on to me, I’ll hold on to you I will be the one who will always see you through
Tal Bachman is son of Randy Bachman, guitarist of the Guess Who and Bachman-Turner Overdrive. Tal only charted one hit single, “She’s So High”, from the same self-tltled 1999 album which contains this Beatlesque little gem. This one would make for a nice wedding song, if only anyone knew about it.