90’s music

Some producer with computers fixes all my shitty tracks… revisiting Rockin’ The Suburbs

/ Tony / 7 Comments
Background: I’ve had the Ben Folds song ‘Fred Jones Part 2’ in my head on repeat recently thanks to using the phrase ‘it’s time’ a little too often and it got me thinking back to how bloody good an album it came from and that, maybe, it was time to dust off both my copy of Rockin’ The Suburbs and this format. Ben Folds was, of course, previously of the Ben Folds of Ben Folds Five, the band that became one of the defining indie alt-rock acts of the ’90s despite the fact that there were only two other members (“I think it sounds better than Ben Folds Three.”). Their first self-titled album in 1995 was a bit of a slow burn but got them noticed and established as the kind of band Pitchfork wanted you to like (Pitchfork back then, not now). They had a knack for writing songs that felt immediately catchy and singable but with a bit more emotional weight than expected ‘Underground’ and ‘Philosophy’ became cult hits, but it wasn’t until their 1997 follow-up, the brilliant Whatever and Ever Amen, that the train pulled out of the station.
Toward the end of 2000, after a particularly gruelling tour behind 1999’s The Unauthorized Biography of Reinhold Messner – a period which Folds later recalled as “financially and career-wise a disaster” – and the few recording sessions for a new album went nowhere, Ben Folds Five took a break. At the time, I was aware of none of this. While I’d hear the band’s name from time to time and may have even caught ‘Brick’ on MTV or MTV2 it wasn’t until 2001 – V2001 in fact – when I caught Ben Folds’ act at a festival that I got hooked. Rockin’ The Suburbs: When Ben Folds released Rockin’ the Suburbs in the fall of 2001, it felt like a sharp, sardonic commentary on everything that was wrong—and right—with the then modern world. He was stepping out of the shadow of Ben Folds Five and looking to establish himself as a solo artist, and while there’s not a huge amount of distance between this and his records with the band,  it’s fair to say that this album is as much about his personal evolution as it is about the cultural moment it was released in. >Now, almost 25 years later, Rockin’ the Suburbs remains a fascinating artefact. Listening to it again in 2025 gives me the strange feeling I get when – per this weekend – I see examples of my early mobile phones and iPod behind glass in the Science Museum. The songs are still great but there’s something very much of a time capsule about the album. In many ways, it feels like a bridge between two eras: the post-grunge hangover of the late ’90s and the digitalised, millennial angst of the early 2000s. For all of that, though, there’s something curiously timeless about its blend of sharp piano lines, quirky pop structures, and deeply personal yet universally relatable lyrics. Take the title track, a brash declaration of suburban boredom that captures a distinctly white-collar angst. But, while his tongue is very much in cheek with his complaints of ‘being male, middle-class, and white’ could “I can feel that someone’s blasting me with hate, and bass, Sendin’ dirty vibes my way, ‘cause my great, great, great, great granddad made someone’s great, great, great, great, granddaddies slaves” make the grade in 2025 even if they are dripping in sarcasm? Possibly not – let alone the mention of ‘my new CD’ – but it’s still a fucking great song.
But while it’s a title track, it’s not indicative of the whole, it’s not all sarcasm and irony. Beneath the punchy, piano-driven hooks, there’s a vulnerability that permeates songs like “The Luckiest” —a deeply heartfelt ballad about love and fate. It’s a perfect example of Folds’ ability to balance the playful with the profound that’s most definitely soundtracked a few hundred first dances at weddings around the world.
The album’s strength, in fact, lies in its ability to walk that razor-thin line between comedy and pathos. Tracks like ‘Not the Same’ and ‘Zak and Sara’ (a favourite then and a favourite now) combine the lightheartedness of pop music with deeper, more introspective themes: loss, longing, and self-realisation. Nor is there any denying Ben Folds owns a copy of Billy Joel’s The Stranger.
Looking back, Rockin’ the Suburbs was too quirky for mainstream radio and too accessible for the alt scene that was ditching pianos for turntables. In the years since, it’s become one of those cult classics that many of us – judging by what I’ve picked up around the likes of Reddit etc – still find ourselves coming back to. It’s both a snapshot of early-2000s indie-pop sensibilities and a timeless reflection on the confusion of early adulthood. Yes, you could say there’s perhaps too much reliance on the “quirky piano guy” trope. But that’s also part of the charm; Folds was, and is, the guy who could craft a song about a mental breakdown (‘Rockin’ the Suburbs’) and then immediately follow it up with a melodic love song that feels both grand and intimate (‘The Luckiest’) or a very touching lament on the quiet, inescapability of time (‘Fred Jones Part 2’)
Maybe that’s the beauty of Rockin’ the Suburbs—it was, and remains, an album about the tension between the mundane and the extraordinary, the painful and the funny, the personal and the universal.
After Rockin’ the Suburbs, Ben Folds continued his musical journey, though the road he traveled became a bit more unpredictable. In 2005, he returned to the piano-driven pop world with Songs for Silverman, an album that was a bit more stripped-back and introspective compared to its predecessor and felt like a deep dive into Folds’ own psyche. Tracks like “Gracie” (a sweet, melancholic ode to his daughter) and “Landed” displayed his growing maturity as a songwriter, and the album itself felt more polished, with fewer of the snarky edges that defined his earlier work. 2011 saw Ben Folds Five reunite for a short period, culminating in the release of The Sound of the Life of the Mind in 2012. The chemistry of the original trio was still intact but didn’t get as much traction as their previous records had. Since then, Folds has embraced a variety of musical projects. He’s dipped into classical music (his piano concerto, Concerto for Piano and Orchestra, premiered in 2015), collaborated with artists like Amanda Palmer and Nick Hornby, and even found himself dabbling in pop culture commentary. In 2017, Folds took on a more public role as the artistic director for the prestigious National Symphony Orchestra, from which he’d resign in 2025 thanks to a certain orange, pubic-hair doodling, fascist felon. While I’ve drifted in and out of his catalogue at times, it’s clear his knack for deeply personal storytelling and biting humour remains ever-present. His later works may lack the youthful anger or suburban frustration of Rockin’ the Suburbs and that of the ..Five’s initial albums, but there’s still that same dedication to blending raw emotion with melodic ingenuity—whether he’s writing about parenthood, the disillusionment of aging, or his various collaborations with the orchestral world.

We don’t want the loonies taking over – Five from Radiohead

/ Tony / 2 Comments

Another brief deviation from Springsteen…. having spent a couple of days out and about last week including a day revisiting Oxford, I thought it fitting to put together a few of my favourite songs from that city’s most famous – though of course, not its only – bands: Radiohead. Having already pontificated about OK Computer plenty of times here, I’m putting this one together in Hard Mode* and not including anything from their finest.

Blow Out

Holy crap, a song from Pablo Honey that isn’t ‘Creep’?! Yup. While their first album wasn’t that strong a clue as to what they were capable of there are a few songs on it that really come together – the ever over-played ‘Creep’ being on of them, ‘Anyone Can Play Guitar’ and this track which I’m particularly fond of for its sheer volume and wall of guitar moments.

Fake Plastic Trees

The massive fucking leap to The Bends is amazing. This album is so far away from Pablo Honey it’s almost a different band. This song in particular is a highlight for me – one that initially gave the band trouble recording. Having started life as a “joke that wasn’t really a joke, a very lonely, drunken evening and, well, a breakdown of sorts” and dealing with label pressure to follow up ‘Creep’, there was a ‘November Rain’ style, pompous version of it and then the band took a night off and saw Jeff Buckley performing alone at The Garage in London and Thom Yorke found the ‘key’ to unlock the arrangement, sang alone and played acoustic alone, collapsed into tears and the band recorded their parts over Yorke’s performance.

The Trickster

My Iron Long EP should really be considered a mini-album. I remember grabbing this in eagerness after OK Computer lead me to The Bends and being astonished that these were basically scraps from that album’s sessions. They really were on a tear and ‘The Trickster’ feels like it could fit on either The Bends or OK Computer.

Go To Sleep  (“Little Man Being Erased.”)

Hail To The Thief is one of those albums that seems to get overlooked. I can see why – it falls after the sonic experimentations of Kid A and Amnesiac and before the pricing and release experimentation of In Rainbows. It’s also a bit on the long side (their longest to date). This, their last for EMI, was billed as a ‘return’ to a more traditional sound at the time but it’s probably fairer to say that while it’s got enough of guitars that sound like guitars etc, it’s still got enough experimental bite to feel like forward momentum and it’s grown on me more as years go by.

Weird Fishes / Arpeggi

Cutting away all the hype and debate surrounding the pay-what-you-want method of release In Rainbows is one of Radiohead’s finest albums. There’s nothing on here I skip. It feels like a real song-oriented album for the first time in a while from the band, probably down to the fact that Nigel Godrich stepped in after protracted series of rudderless sessions and forced them to make decisions rather than constantly alter tracks.

*say no more, squire.

Least and Most: The Ghost of Tom Joad

/ Tony / 3 Comments

Three years, an Academy Award, an awkward E Street Band reunion, a Greatest Hits with a cluster of ‘new’ songs, and at least one scrapped album sit between Springsteen’s first albums of the the ’90s and The Ghost of Tom Joad‘s release in November 1995.

I love this album. It’s only grown on me over the years. It’s easily the most musically subdued in his entire back catalogue – with arrangements even starker than Nebraska – yet its beauty lies in those quiet moments and his willingness to paint striking stories with the slightest of brushes. It’s also worth noting that when that brush flushes with colour in the style of, say, the flush of keys on “Dry Lightning”, it’s down to Danny Federici. While it was clearly another left-turn after the short-lived E Street reunion for Greatest Hits, it’s his most consistent set of songs for some time. Rather than grappling with coming to terms with his wealth and status, Springsteen’s eye is turned outward for a compelling set of stories of those that America had turned its back on – working class, foreign born – by the mid-nineties. As the man himself puts it: “the austere rhythms and arrangements defined who these people were and how they expressed themselves….They were transient and led heard, complicated lives, half of which had been left behind in another world, in another country.”

Least: My Best Was Never Good Enough

Springsteen, in ‘Songs’, describes this as his ‘parting joke’ and a way of satirising the way that complex moral issues can be trivialised. Maybe it’s over my head but I’m not sure the album needed a final ‘gag’ song. It feels a bit like ‘Pony Boy’ slapped at the end of Human Touch as if to lighten the listener. It’s not an inherently bad song – none of these ‘leasts’ are – but it’s far from my favourite on the album and doesn’t really sit shoulder to shoulder with the title track, ‘Youngstown’, the compassion of ‘The Line’ or ‘Sinaloa Cowboys’ or…

Most: Galveston Bay

In a way I feel ‘Galveston Bay’ is one of Springsteen’s bravest songs as a songwriter: the lyrics and the story are of the highest quality but the music is so whisper-thin (delicate picking that’s more intonation than melody and the softest of keys, both courtesy of Springsteen, the only credited performer on the track) yet it demands your attention throughout. There’s no verse / chorus / verse structure here – there are two opening stanzas – as this feels more prose than song – that introduce the two characters without an indication of where we’re heading before tackling a theme straight from a real life event in Seadrift in 1979, tackling – in just five minutes – one hell of a story. A harrowing but redemptive story about how, after getting to a certain point, people can actually make the right choice instead of a deadly choice. It’s more a short story set to music.

I’ve been hooked on ‘Galveston Bay’ since I first heard The Ghost of Tom Joad and that hook has only sunk deeper as time moves on.

Least and Most: Lucky Town

/ Tony / 3 Comments

In theory I should have released this post on the same day as that for Human Touch, right? If only this weren’t a massively busy month for me professionally and personally I may well have done.

However, that does lead me nicely to my thoughts on this album that have changed somewhat in the years since the full album rankings. I think the widest-held belief is that if Bruce were to have taken the best of Human Touch‘s tunes and added them to Lucky Town he’d have had a real victory on his hands and there are plenty of takes out there on what that ‘Lucky Touch’ album would contain.

Thing is, having listened to Lucky Town a lot more over the years, I don’t think that’s necessary. Lucky Town is a really solid set of tunes that feel complete as it is – this is Springsteen in the early ’90s grappling with his concerns (coming to terms with his wealth, his new life as both a married man and a parent) and dealing with them with the same levels of compassion, honesty and humour that underpinned his best work in the previous decades and with some great tunes to boot. What I know wonder, then, isn’t ‘what if Bruce had compiled the best of both?’ but more ‘what if he’d never released Human Touch after all?’ I mean, we’ll never know, but this feels like the start of Bruce second-guessing. He wasn’t sure Human Touch was ready and had sat on it for over a year thinking it needed one more song whereas Lucky Town came together really quickly. Had Lucky Town not had the shadow of Human Touch then I feel Springsteen’s first album of the ’90s would have been received a lot more favourably and probably had a bigger impact.

Anyway, that’s not what we’re here for. It’s a solid album but, sure, it has a few lows of which the standout for me is..

Least: Leap of Faith

Across the two albums, seven songs would be released as singles of which this was the weakest of the bunch if you ask me. I can’t say there’s anything inherently wrong with it, I just can’t enjoy this one, it feels like a by-the-numbers studio session without much true feeling behind it.

Most: Living Proof

I could just as easily go to bat for ‘Better Days’, ‘Local Hero’ and even the title track but ‘Living Proof’ has continued to grow in my esteem over the years and especially as a parent, it feels all the more powerful.

Least and Most: Human Touch

/ Tony / 4 Comments

You know how it is with quotes and soundbites – sometimes their origin gets lost even when the quote itself remains pure and valid. I’ve got a sneaky feeling it was Hall of Fame related – possibly while inducting someone else – but Springsteen is on record and oft-cited as saying “I tried it [writing happy songs] in the early ’90s and it didn’t work; the public didn’t like it.”

Now the problem with this is many-fold and as we now lurch into the ’90s with this series, this feels as good an opportunity as any to address this.

Firstly – pretty sure Springsteen’s work of the previous decades is also littered with ‘happy’ songs too. I don’t think anyone is getting a lump in their throat listening to ‘I’m A Rocker’ or ‘She’s The One’ nor would they with the upbeat songs in the decades to come.

Secondly – it wasn’t the emotional nature of the songs that went unliked. It was the quality.

If there is a third point here, and I’m fairly certain of that, it’s that the ’90s were as prolific for Bruce as any other decade. We just haven’t heard most of it as it’s been shelved. I’ve seen mention, at some point, of five unreleased records from the ’90s. Even Van Zandt mentions going down to Rumson to hear a new batch of songs while the Boss fretted about not having a single yet. I haven’t spoken much about ‘Unrequited Infatuations’ yet but you have to take some elements with a pinch of salt as Van Zandt feels to have single-handedly shaped entire careers and global political movements with just a few sage words at the right time. However, given that he claims that havingtold Springsteen to revisit his Nebraska vibe resulting in The Ghost of Tom Joad, that puts this conversation in the early ’90s. Springsteen’s early ’90s seems to be more a period of second-guessing than it does of making happy songs.

Back to point 2 though…. listening back through the albums in sequence again for this series has been great. It’s also given me a different perspective on this album. I can’t remember the point in my collecting that I originally purchased Human Touch (and probably Lucky Town at the same time) but I know it wasn’t in release order. It makes it all the more evident that quality control suffered a big drop off with Human Touch. There were always lesser songs on Springsteen’s albums but Human Touch feels like the first time in which – rather than give such tunes to other artists or assign them as b-sides – the minor material makes up the bulk of the album and, while it’s not all bad, the good songs feel like outliers. After waiting four and a half years for a new Bruce Springsteen album and getting just shy of an hour’s worth of this lesser material, it’s understandable that it wasn’t well liked.

It could be that there’s a lack of chemistry between Bruce and ‘The Other Band’ that means the weaker elements of the songs can’t be carried over by great playing, but it’s not like he picked up of people that only knew a few chords. The songs are simply ineffective. There’s a song about TV, ffs. There’s also a song about feeling like a Real Man with his girl that actually contains the line “Rambo he was blowin’ ’em down”. It’s come to something when ‘Pony Boy’ isn’t the worst thing on an album.

Least: Cross My Heart

‘Cross My Heart’ is a pretty unforgettable and unremarkable tune. It doesn’t even sound like Bruce is that enthused about it and he’s the one singing it. Listening to Tracks it feels like he had half a dozen that were pretty much the same song as this and may just as well have chosen one at random to put on the finished disc. It tries to lift the beat and find momentum at points but it honestly feels more like a backing track and really sits amongst his lesser material for me.

Most: With Every Wish

Yeah, for all the mountain of filler there are some pretty good songs here that feel exactly how you’d want Springsteen to sound at the start of the ’90s. The title track is a bit of a gem. ‘Roll of the Dice’ – written with Roy Bittan – feels like it could have made a good E Street rave up given a chance.

‘With Every Wish’, though, is the rarest of things on these albums: it feels like a natural Bruce Springsteen song. The gentle nagging melody, the cautionary tale of love, the sweep of strings and a horn (courtesy of Mark Isham’s muted trumpet) that make it feel like it comes from a different, better album. It feels as close to a natural follow on from Tunnel of Love‘s material as you can get. It had me hooked the first time I heard Human Touch and still holds my attention throughout. The fact that it’s more sedate in its pace and accompaniment means not only is the production less overwrought and feel of session players absent but it suits Springsteen’s more mature songwriting themes that little bit better too.

More midweek spinnage

/ Tony / 3 Comments

Here we are once again at the midway point of the week with the scale starting to tip toward the weekend and, for me, the beginning of holiday season.

With that in mind, here’s what’s been going in the ears this week.

Smashing Pumpkins – Goeth The Fall

I don’t think I’ve enjoyed a new Smashing Pumpkins album in the way I have Aghori Mhori Mei in years. Released last week and heralded as one that’ll please the fans of the ’90s stuff and a ‘rock’ record, I’ve gotta say that’s about right. It’s not that good but I’ve been surprised how much I’ve been listening to it and enjoyed to the point of pre-ordering the vinyl.

Air – Kelly Watch The Stars (Edit Version)

While I’m not usually one for picture discs (especially overpriced RSD ones), when this one appeared in my local store’s sale it was an easy decision. Moon Safari is unimpeachable but getting this meant getting hold of the version that was played on MTV back in the day.

The Orb – Little Fluffy Clouds

With the exception of Smashing Pumpkins there seems to be a much more mellow edge to everything here. Maybe it’s the build up of CBD but that’s where I’m at lately. I actually caught this one on the radio this weekend and it’s gained a few spins since. I’ve also just discovered that it’s Rickie Lee Jones talking about clouds – the lads in The Orb heard her trippy response to “So what were the skies like when you were young?” in an interview (who the fuck asks that without smoking something first?) and sampled it. After paying her $5,000 for its use first.

Ben Howard – Time Is Dancing

Oh man I played this album so much when it came out I was surprised that the CD still held up when I chucked it in the car this week. It’s coming up for its tenth anniversary – with the prerequisite re-release in special colours / clear / etc – and for me marks the perfect point in Ben Howard’s sound; moving away from the ‘only love’ festival-pleasing acoustic work and embracing the more experimental elements that would enthuse the later albums while still retaining a focus song structure.

Pearl Jam – Force of Nature

Anyway, here’s some more Pearl Jam and another favourite deep(ish) cut from recent times. Backspacer is the only album I’m missing on my record shelves (for some reason it’s not as widely available as other albums) and while not my favourite it has some wonderful tunes on it and I love the shift in this song’s vibe.

Another midweek spinnage

/ Tony / 3 Comments

Slipping seamlessly into the middle of another week with an eye firmly on the approaching weekend like a desert oasis…. here’s another selection of those tunes that have been gaining traction this week.

Pixies – Chicken

As the Pixies prepare to drop album ten (with bass player number four) The Night The Zombies Came, I’ve been thoroughly enjoying the vibe of the single (do they still call it that? Is asking ‘do they still call it that?’ a signifier that I’m old?) they released this week, it’s a little different to their usual flavour but, as with the vast majority of things Frank Black, I’m here for it.

Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers – First Flash of Freedom

I’ve been giving Mojo a good bit of attention recently. I didn’t when it came out but after a few tracks came up on shuffle I’ve lined the whole album up for my commute a couple of times and while there are a few duds (someone really needed to have nuked ‘Don’t Pull Me Over’), if you trim those out there’s a more concise and close-to-perfect album there. The blues-based, jammier style they tapped into for their last pair of albums fitted them perfectly.

Muna – Anything But Me

Sitting there waiting for a tire to be changed the other day I caught a tune on the radio that I could’ve sworn I knew. It was this, and I did – having enjoyed their self-titled album in 2022 but failing to have listened much beyond that until hearing it again this last week. Sometimes there’s just so much to listen to that I feel more slips through the cracks than gets the attention it deserves. I think I read that Muna‘s singer has got a solo record about to drop too.

Slowdive – Cath The Breeze

Slowdive’s gorgeous 1991 debut Just For A Day – pressed on a nice translucent red marble vinyl – arrived in the post on Monday and I’ve since been covering myself in a lush blanket of shoegaze.

David Gilmour – The Piper’s Call

Due to arrive in the post at some point in the second half of this year, David Gilmour’s upcoming album Luck and Strange is touted as taking a different approach in production values with younger hands at the helm that weren’t in thrall to his legacy and the ‘deluxe’ sound that’s been slapped on all things Gilmour / Floyd since the ’90s. ‘The Piper’s Call’ is a pretty strong tune and Gilmour’s guitar, as always, is definitely worth tuning in for.

Mdou Moctar – Oh, France

Two thoughts here. One: I haven’t seen Mdou Moctar’s fucking PHENOMENAL Funeral for Justice in any where enough mentions for ‘best albums of the year so far’ conversations and B: I’m heading off to France for a couple of weeks in a couple of weeks – timed to slip between the Olympics and hopefully avoid too much faff. Three: this song is a fucking belter.

Pearl Jam – In Hiding

Anyway, here’s some Pearl Jam. ‘In Hiding’ is one of those beloved deep cuts for me – while my battles with the black dog of depression continue it’s lines like ‘No longer overwhelmed and it seems so simple now, it’s funny when things change so much it’s all state of mind’ to a tune like this that help me up just enough.

Swallowed up by the sound: current spins

/ Tony / 4 Comments

As the last few posts have had a somewhat singular artist / track focus and while I’m still in a posting stage of mind, I figured it was fitting to share what’s been on heavy rotation of late.

Pearl Jam – Waiting For Stevie

I haven’t talked about Dark Matter here in any real way yet. I probably will. I’ve played the arse off it since securing a copy on RSD. Yeah, Andrew Watt is still shit at capturing drums and loves compression just that little too much but, without wanting to come across like a pretentious audiophile, it really comes alive on vinyl. ‘Waiting For Stevie’ was much-hyped by those who’d attended the listening parties and it’s a fantastic centrepiece complete with that early ’90s vibe and extended outro.

Buffalo Tom – Come Closer

A new Buffalo Tom album announcement has long been another of those that gets me to the pre-order button pronto. Their 10th album Jump Rope is another late-career gem that leans more to the acoustic but still smoulders in all the right place, their sound perfectly suiting the more mature tinges to their songs as they age like a fine wine.

Arrested Development – Mr Wendal

More of that great early ’90s hip hop that I’ve been enjoying with my son: Arrested Development’s 3 Years, 5 Months and 2 Days in the Life Of… has been a regular in the walkman since we caught this one randomly on the radio a while back.

Drop Nineteens – Winona

Finding out that Drop Nineteens’ 1992 album Delaware had been reissued meant it was another no-brainer of a purchase. Often pigeonholed as shoegaze, while that genre’s influence on the guitars is clear, there’s something unique about the way they merged it with the alt/college rock bite that was on the upswing.

The Mysterines – Sink Ya Teeth

Not sure why the new album from The Mysterines has been pushed back but current single ‘Sink Ya Teeth’ has been getting a good bit of traction on the airwaves and hits the right spots for me.

I fear that I’m ordinary, just like everyone – Five From The Smashing Pumpkins

/ Tony / 24 Comments

I’ve been spending a lot of time with The Smashing Pumpkins’ music recently. To be more specific, that of their first ‘run’. You know, that glorious period captured on Rotten Apples from 1991 thru 2000. My wife – in true enabler fashion – got a bit trigger happy in Rough Trade last year when she saw the Melon Collie And The Infinite Sadness box and, with a couple of purchases since their albums to that point now sit in my record collection and indulged in a plenty.

Never knowingly non-grandiose, there was always something different about Smashing Pumpkins that stood them apart from the pack in that golden era of alt. rock in the early nineties. There’s wasn’t the raw angst of those bands hailing from the Pacific North West, instead they proffered a more richly layered and often, well, fucking gorgeous sound propelled by the distinctive voice and brilliant guitar work of Billy Corgan. The rest of the band – James Iha, Jimmy Chamberlain and D’arcy Wretzky – always looked cool as hell while Corgan maintained the look of someone apart. I was chatting about the band this weekend with the owner of my record store of choice and he maintains that Billy, while alway a bit weird, went full-on knobhead when he shaved off his hair. I think he has a point.

So, harkening back to a time when he was just a bit of a pretentious control-freak rather than full-on David Icke supporting lunatic, I thought I’d drop five examples of tunes from that period they could do no wrong while steering clear of the obvious, but still great, choices of ‘Today’, ‘Tonight, Tonight’, ‘Disarm’ etc. It’s also worth pointing out first that ‘Mayonaise’ remains the single best thing they’ve put to tape but having already blogged about that, I won’t do so again here.

Bury Me

First album Gish is full of absolute belters of which ‘Bury Me’ is a great example of the band’s harder side – delivering pummelling riffs that would be at home on a Soundgarden album underpinned with Corgan’s innate ability to unleash a guitar solo and drop down to a nagging melody and expansiveness of sound inside of four and a half minutes.

Drown

Eight and a bit minutes of brilliance complete with feedback and an E-Bow solo, on an already unimpeachable collection, ‘Drown’ felt like an outlier then on the Seattle-focused Singles soundtrack and still feels like one today in the same way as Paul Westerberg’s cuts. It is, however, a massive early highlight. It was written after Gish and serves as a bridge between that album and their next. Due to label politics – Alice In Chains etc were on Epic as was the soundtrack – it was never released as a single despite radio love. Second only to Mayoinaise for me.

Soma

A rare Corgan / Iha co-write, ‘Soma’ is the centrepiece of Siamese Dream – a six and a half minute song that manages to encapsulate every characteristic of the band’s sound, managing to move from the tender to ferocious with a dynamic few could muster.

Starla

They’d only released two studio album when Pisces Iscariot arrived in 1994 as a collection of B-sides and previously unreleased songs to demonstrate that The Smashing Pumpkins had tunes to spare before we even knew what 1995 would bring. With songs that are almost as strong as those released as many already released, Pisces Iscariot is that rarest of things – an ‘odds and sods’ album that’s nearly essential. ‘Starla’ is an 11-minute epic that should be entered as evidence that Corgan was one of the era’s greatest rock guitarists.

Muzzle

How to choose a song from the behemoth that is Melon Collie And The Infinite Sadness? A 28 song double album with very little filler… One of the most ambitious and indulgent albums out there, a slab of great music that’s stocked to folds with tunes songs including ‘Tonight, Tonight’, ‘1979’, ‘Zero’, ‘Bullet with Butterfly Wings’, ‘Thirty Three’, ‘Porcelina Of The Vast Oceans’….. well, I really like ‘Muzzle’ so let’s go with that.

Wooo! You got a date Wednesday, baby! Midweek spins

/ Tony / 2 Comments

The will is there, the time isn’t always there for getting back into this after a summer lay-off… but lobbing up a quick ‘I’ve been listening to this sort of thing’ list isn’t a bad way to get into it, I guess.

It’s been a surprisingly music-heavy time lately helped by needing (thanks to throwing my back into a ridiculous shape) to work from home a bit more meant the turntable got more action than usual. Though that does mean less of my listening went to ‘new’ music rather than newer stuff from the familiar like the new albums from Slowdive (a clear march on album of the year) or Explosions in the Sky (absolutely brilliant).

Slightly off topic but I’ve also been enjoying the Wes Anderson helmed takes on some Roald Dahl short stories that have been added to Netflix lately. As a fan of both film maker and writer it’s been great to sit down as a family (my wife and I are about halfway through ‘Asteroid City’ and waiting for it to really take off…) but more surprised to see the credits for each of them cite Maidstone Studios (about a mile or so from our place) as a location for filming. While a lot’s been filmed there over the years (it used to be the location for Jools Holland’s Hootenany) it’s a surreal idea to think Wes Anderson was working away that close to home.

Getting back to the listening…. I don’t think I even made it all the way through the new song from U2, ‘Atomic City’. What a lot of shite. I wouldn’t say that they’ve done much of note for some time but someone clearly bypassed all elements of quality control there in the rush to cash-in even more from their no doubt minimum wage gig at the Sphere. No doubt Rolling Stone will praise it as record of the year… Anyway here’s a quick heads up on what I have been listening to….

Bleach Lab – All Night

Bleach Lab’s newly released debut Lost in a Rush of Emptiness is a wonderful thing, another gorgeous slab in what seems to be a resurgence of etherial, shoegaze fuelled dreampop.

Cocteau Twins – Heaven or Las Vegas

Speaking of etherial shoegaze lushness… I’m fast playing catch-up with Cocteau Twins and their Heaven of Las Vegas album has been getting a lot of spinnage lately.

Motörhead – Emergency

It can’t always be ‘Ace of Spades.’

Bruce Springsteen – Burnin’ Train

I’m toying with the notion of updating my ranking of Springsteen’s albums given he’s released two studio albums since then. A recent free-trial of Apple TV meant I was able to watch the Letter To You feature which was a lot of fun – the somewhat overly hokey voice-over narrative aside – and much more of an insight into the E Street Band’s recording approach than ‘Blood Brothers’ proved especially when it came to Stevie Van Zandt’s role in terms of arrangements and increased solo playing as on this cut. I really must get hold of SVZ’s book….

The War On Drugs – Change

What to do when you discover a new record shop has opened in your town after years of no alternative to HMV? Well… you go in and browse and if you find I Don’t Live Here Anymore on vinyl for a tenner less than you’ve seen it anywhere else you buy it, take it home and spin that sumptuous album because no matter how many times you hear it it’s still fucking great.

Mitski – Heaven

One of those names I kept hearing / reading but never followed up on until I heard ‘Heaven’ on the radio a couple of weeks back and have been hypnotised ever since.