Some Songs: Tuesday, August 22nd, 2017

Written by | August 22, 2017 9:52 am | No Comments


Could Never Be Heaven – Brand New – The question is what constitutes heaven in a world without the one you love, and the answer is that it isn’t heaven and when it has something to do with what we know he might be very well. As an aside, I wonder what suicides think if they wake up up in heaven? Are they pissed at the lack of oblivion. Brand New’s acoustic strumminess sounds like folk means whine in this song of extreme emotional reductionism which feels more like a waking dream then a theological debate. It’s like a Samuel Beckett play come to life, there are world’s of I can’t go on, I’ll go on here –  A-

All Summer Long – The Beach Boys – I never quite got what day “American Graffiti” was meant to be, it feels like Lucas added the High School prom end of High School with the day before college and hoped we wouldn’t notice and we didn’t notice. It’s hard to care about trivialities instant nostalgia “All Summer Long”: not yet a memory, but soon a memory, though “not for us, now”. The singer is outside in the car waiting for his girl, thinking on the immediate past, (little) Hondas, miniature golf, horseback riding, spilt soda and fun, and a world that won’t end and must end. What makes it such a joy today is that xylophone, it seems both distant and of the moment, as far away as yesterday – A+

Promised Land – Elvis Presley – Written late, 1965, by Chuck Berry, and covered at Stax Records studios by Elvis, December 1973, released ten years, and various lifetimes after the original in 1975, it is terrific to hear with what ease Presley can perform a somewhat twisty rockabilly like he was breathing; if Berry did write “Johnny B Goode” about Presley, this is a first person narration of Elvis earliest trip to Hollywood and legend – A

You – Dodie – The Uk youtube phenom can be a little twee for me, but this song, about a misplaced romance with yet another wrong guy where an infatuation took her by surprise and she couldn’t figure her way out of it so this modified samba for Ukelele sounds like Antonio Carlos Jobim for bedsit aesthetes – A


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