10 Songs For A Decade
Although I never make new year's resolutions, and see birthdays as far more important markers in the depressing passing of time, any excuse to write about the past/wallow in self-indulgent nostalgia is good enough for me. Since everyone else is looking back over the last 10 years, so shall I. And I will begin writing this now, in the middle of the night, at a time when I appear to become more thoughtful and honest. It's the perfect chance to try and write something of value.
On reflection, I have found most of this decade to be pretty pointless, stumbling from one point to another, no real goals, and ending up back where I began, over and over again. So they only way I can think to approach it is through the music I have been listening to, which has inspired/encouraged/comforted me over the last ten years. One song to represent each year. I've kept my choices contemporaneous, which means the list runs out of steam towards the end, and there's no room for The Go-Between, Wire, John Cale, The Triffids, or anything discovered after the fact and not from the noughties. Except when I just mentioned them then, in that last sentence. And, as I've already spent ages putting together a (more generous, 17-track) compilation that covers the decade, I'll just been taking ideas/tracks from that, to keep things simple for myself. So here's my personal, bespoke compilation for the decade:
2000 - "He's Simple, He's Dumb, He's The Pilot" by Grandaddy (from 'The Sophtware Slump')
Well, it was either this of something from 'Kid A'. Of course 2000 was a good time for all that pre-millennial tension (which also reflects just how slow the music industry works), and I can't think of two better albums that tap into that kind of craziness: all the computers are going to die, the world is going to end, there is no hope for any of us, etc etc. Both albums also contain exactly the kind of angst-y miserablism and morngy-ness an 18-year old such as myself was looking for. What better to listen to on headphones when sat in the sixth-form common room, sneering? Or when avoiding going to the sixth-form ball (although maybe we watched Fight Club then instead: basically the same thing)? Or when on some evil camping trip in the Yorkshire Dales (I'll be back there, eventually), with a mad drunk? Or even on endlessly delayed, 6-hour train journeys from Wakefield to Bournemouth, to end up sharing a room with someone you grow very quickly to detest?
I've gone for Grandaddy though, because I think 'The Sophtware Slump' has become a bit of a forgotten/underrated album over the years, which is a shame because there's a great breadth of imagination across the whole record, tying in with all that other exciting American music that was coming out around this time (ish: I'm including Mecrury Rev, Flaming Lips, Wilco, that sort of thing) , and of which "He's Simple..." is the perfect example. It really represents the start of me actually properly listening to US music, since Britpop is clearly very dead at this point (and I want to kill Richard Ashcroft). If there's one thing this decade is about, it's my discovery of great North American music, in the face of the rubbish, conservative 'indie' regularly produced in this country: and I don't think I'm the only one to have made this discovery over the past few years.
2001 - "Bitten By The Tailfly" by Elbow (from 'Asleep In The Back')
I failed my first year at Bournemouth, and left half way through the year. However, it's fair to say that the first six months of 2001 are much more important than the last six, so that is clearly where my focus should be.
Bournemouth was a disaster: BA Scriptwriting in Film and Television. I was far too young and inexperienced to contribute anything useful to the course. I was stupid and naive and wasn't in anyway prepared for what the move would entail, and how I would end up treated by the univeristy. I began by living in a hotel, miles from the university, sharing a room with a complete stranger who snored loudly and constantly, and relying on stodgy meals cooked by the landlady because we had no access to a kitchen, shared living area or, indeed, any kind of privacy. Thinking now, it was probably at this point that I started listening to music solely through headphones, to create my own private space and to shut everyone else out: a practise which still continues to this day (and as I type this, in fact!).
I also had to rely on the uni's bus to get me to work and back, and was stuck to their limited timetable, which finished so early I couldn't feasibly hang around at college too late (although towards the end I learnt some sections were open 24 hours, which is a nice idea): I think I only went in the Union once, and ended up going into the hated town centre nightclub more often. I was not (and am not) a sociable person.
Even when we moved to our own house (complete with stereotypical lazy, evil, money-grabbing landlord) the buses were still a problem. I gave up on them in the end, and use to walk to and from university most days. There are certain albums I can remember listening to on the walks, which would typically last 45-60 minutes, two more clearly than other: 'Lost Souls' by Doves and 'Alseep In The Back' by Elbow. I still follow both bands, although as far as I'm concerned, neither have released anything that holds a candle to these two debut albums: the budgets have grown, the songs have got bigger, more anthemic, less claustrophobic and less obviously personal, and something has definitely been lost along the way. As a whole, 'Asleep In The Back' definitely sums up that Bournemouth experience, and "Bitten By The Tailfly" has the perfect ambience to sharpen the details: muggy drums, swirling vocals, razor guitars, and a big mass of rage towards the end. Musically anyway: I've never been one to focus on lyrics really. Stupidly.
Having said all that, I still really like the album, and indeed, Bournemouth seemed to be very good to me when it came to writing songs. The music basically flooded out of me, nice and fast and easy: all the best Undertow songs I contributed to have their basis in Bournemouth; it's where I developed the Festinger alter-ego, and there was even time to write a concept albums to order, based on Genesis quotes (the band, not the book) or weasels (and thanks to Joe and Alex for those 'classic' ideas!).
2002 - "Sowing Song" by Candidate (from 'Nuada')
I can't believe this is 2002: it feels more recent somehow, a couple of years later. I'm sure it is.
Whatever: there is nothing more suited than Nuada at this point: personally, it's where the Low Edges started for me (along with a bit of Broken Family Band on the side), and certainly where I started getting more interested in acoustic music, be it faux-folk, pretend country, or just indie: whatever, I begin to slowly slip into early middle age and get fed up of noisy guitars and fast songs (whilst still trying to do all that as part of the Lovers Of Today, of course).
It's the second half of 2002 (ignore the first half, very dull) and I end up at Goldsmiths, clutching an 8-track brimming with songs (I received the 8-track as a present in 2000, and have used it up until last year, so it's possibly the key part of the decade for me): the original Low Edges album, as christened by Joe and a load of songs that would eventually make up something sprawling mess called Transport, heavily influenced by Richard Hawley (should've got a bigger mention, but no time). After a failed attempt to form a band with a friend from my course (who subsequently left before the first term finished: an identical problem I had also had in Bournemouth), which had involved roping Joe in to play bass, Joe and I then decided to magically cross Wire and the Go-Betweens to create Lovers Of Today. It is essentially a band living in the past, so clearly no room here for them here. In fact, 2002 seems a little pointless and unnecessary. So let's move on:
2003 - "(I Don't Have The Time To) Mess Around" by The Broken Family Band (from 'Cold Water Songs')
Ah, there's the Broken Family Band. James sent them some Low Edges demos back in the early duo days, and got us our first celebrity endorsement (well, Steve from the band said some nice things, which is good enough for me).
Back on track: at some point I convince Joe to come with me to a meeting for the college radio show, Wired FM, and we get our own show together, on which we want to do absolutely everything we can think of. Including having live bands. I don't know how or why we end up contacting Candidate, but basically: I've been visiting the NOTBBC forums since summer 2000, and learned that one of the regulars had released music in a band: he was Joel Morris of Candidate (although I'd like to say that I don't remember him ever coming out and saying 'I'm in a band, so go and buy my music': other people brought it up first!). I got in contact with him and he agreed to come onto our radio show, even though we made it clear that it would be a joke and no one would be listening. He was the perfect guest though: funny, intelligent, informative and with a superlative record collection, some of which he brought in and played.There used to be a list of the records they liked on their website, which was brilliant and full of things that, at the time I didn't really see referenced anywhere else (they always seemed to me to be slightly ahead of the resurgence in folk/indie-folk/folktronica/freak-folk/whatever). Is this one of the most important points in the decade for me, musically-speaking? Yes, it probably is. There's a definite shift in taste around this point.
Towards the end of the year, James and I bump into each other (I didn't even know he was still at the college!). Having never really had a proper conversation with each other before, we decide to form a duo to make up for our previous failures: a little bit indie, a little bit folk, a little bit country. We study other acoustic acts so we know what we don't want to do (be boring, mainly) and he gives me a minidisc (hey, who remembers minidiscs?) of songs he's recorded, and away we go.
Candidate and the Broken Family Band: I've looked ahead, and this is clearly the starting point of everything that's to come...
On reflection, I have found most of this decade to be pretty pointless, stumbling from one point to another, no real goals, and ending up back where I began, over and over again. So they only way I can think to approach it is through the music I have been listening to, which has inspired/encouraged/comforted me over the last ten years. One song to represent each year. I've kept my choices contemporaneous, which means the list runs out of steam towards the end, and there's no room for The Go-Between, Wire, John Cale, The Triffids, or anything discovered after the fact and not from the noughties. Except when I just mentioned them then, in that last sentence. And, as I've already spent ages putting together a (more generous, 17-track) compilation that covers the decade, I'll just been taking ideas/tracks from that, to keep things simple for myself. So here's my personal, bespoke compilation for the decade:
2000 - "He's Simple, He's Dumb, He's The Pilot" by Grandaddy (from 'The Sophtware Slump')
Well, it was either this of something from 'Kid A'. Of course 2000 was a good time for all that pre-millennial tension (which also reflects just how slow the music industry works), and I can't think of two better albums that tap into that kind of craziness: all the computers are going to die, the world is going to end, there is no hope for any of us, etc etc. Both albums also contain exactly the kind of angst-y miserablism and morngy-ness an 18-year old such as myself was looking for. What better to listen to on headphones when sat in the sixth-form common room, sneering? Or when avoiding going to the sixth-form ball (although maybe we watched Fight Club then instead: basically the same thing)? Or when on some evil camping trip in the Yorkshire Dales (I'll be back there, eventually), with a mad drunk? Or even on endlessly delayed, 6-hour train journeys from Wakefield to Bournemouth, to end up sharing a room with someone you grow very quickly to detest?
I've gone for Grandaddy though, because I think 'The Sophtware Slump' has become a bit of a forgotten/underrated album over the years, which is a shame because there's a great breadth of imagination across the whole record, tying in with all that other exciting American music that was coming out around this time (ish: I'm including Mecrury Rev, Flaming Lips, Wilco, that sort of thing) , and of which "He's Simple..." is the perfect example. It really represents the start of me actually properly listening to US music, since Britpop is clearly very dead at this point (and I want to kill Richard Ashcroft). If there's one thing this decade is about, it's my discovery of great North American music, in the face of the rubbish, conservative 'indie' regularly produced in this country: and I don't think I'm the only one to have made this discovery over the past few years.
2001 - "Bitten By The Tailfly" by Elbow (from 'Asleep In The Back')
I failed my first year at Bournemouth, and left half way through the year. However, it's fair to say that the first six months of 2001 are much more important than the last six, so that is clearly where my focus should be.
Bournemouth was a disaster: BA Scriptwriting in Film and Television. I was far too young and inexperienced to contribute anything useful to the course. I was stupid and naive and wasn't in anyway prepared for what the move would entail, and how I would end up treated by the univeristy. I began by living in a hotel, miles from the university, sharing a room with a complete stranger who snored loudly and constantly, and relying on stodgy meals cooked by the landlady because we had no access to a kitchen, shared living area or, indeed, any kind of privacy. Thinking now, it was probably at this point that I started listening to music solely through headphones, to create my own private space and to shut everyone else out: a practise which still continues to this day (and as I type this, in fact!).
I also had to rely on the uni's bus to get me to work and back, and was stuck to their limited timetable, which finished so early I couldn't feasibly hang around at college too late (although towards the end I learnt some sections were open 24 hours, which is a nice idea): I think I only went in the Union once, and ended up going into the hated town centre nightclub more often. I was not (and am not) a sociable person.
Even when we moved to our own house (complete with stereotypical lazy, evil, money-grabbing landlord) the buses were still a problem. I gave up on them in the end, and use to walk to and from university most days. There are certain albums I can remember listening to on the walks, which would typically last 45-60 minutes, two more clearly than other: 'Lost Souls' by Doves and 'Alseep In The Back' by Elbow. I still follow both bands, although as far as I'm concerned, neither have released anything that holds a candle to these two debut albums: the budgets have grown, the songs have got bigger, more anthemic, less claustrophobic and less obviously personal, and something has definitely been lost along the way. As a whole, 'Asleep In The Back' definitely sums up that Bournemouth experience, and "Bitten By The Tailfly" has the perfect ambience to sharpen the details: muggy drums, swirling vocals, razor guitars, and a big mass of rage towards the end. Musically anyway: I've never been one to focus on lyrics really. Stupidly.
Having said all that, I still really like the album, and indeed, Bournemouth seemed to be very good to me when it came to writing songs. The music basically flooded out of me, nice and fast and easy: all the best Undertow songs I contributed to have their basis in Bournemouth; it's where I developed the Festinger alter-ego, and there was even time to write a concept albums to order, based on Genesis quotes (the band, not the book) or weasels (and thanks to Joe and Alex for those 'classic' ideas!).
2002 - "Sowing Song" by Candidate (from 'Nuada')
I can't believe this is 2002: it feels more recent somehow, a couple of years later. I'm sure it is.
Whatever: there is nothing more suited than Nuada at this point: personally, it's where the Low Edges started for me (along with a bit of Broken Family Band on the side), and certainly where I started getting more interested in acoustic music, be it faux-folk, pretend country, or just indie: whatever, I begin to slowly slip into early middle age and get fed up of noisy guitars and fast songs (whilst still trying to do all that as part of the Lovers Of Today, of course).
It's the second half of 2002 (ignore the first half, very dull) and I end up at Goldsmiths, clutching an 8-track brimming with songs (I received the 8-track as a present in 2000, and have used it up until last year, so it's possibly the key part of the decade for me): the original Low Edges album, as christened by Joe and a load of songs that would eventually make up something sprawling mess called Transport, heavily influenced by Richard Hawley (should've got a bigger mention, but no time). After a failed attempt to form a band with a friend from my course (who subsequently left before the first term finished: an identical problem I had also had in Bournemouth), which had involved roping Joe in to play bass, Joe and I then decided to magically cross Wire and the Go-Betweens to create Lovers Of Today. It is essentially a band living in the past, so clearly no room here for them here. In fact, 2002 seems a little pointless and unnecessary. So let's move on:
2003 - "(I Don't Have The Time To) Mess Around" by The Broken Family Band (from 'Cold Water Songs')
Ah, there's the Broken Family Band. James sent them some Low Edges demos back in the early duo days, and got us our first celebrity endorsement (well, Steve from the band said some nice things, which is good enough for me).
Back on track: at some point I convince Joe to come with me to a meeting for the college radio show, Wired FM, and we get our own show together, on which we want to do absolutely everything we can think of. Including having live bands. I don't know how or why we end up contacting Candidate, but basically: I've been visiting the NOTBBC forums since summer 2000, and learned that one of the regulars had released music in a band: he was Joel Morris of Candidate (although I'd like to say that I don't remember him ever coming out and saying 'I'm in a band, so go and buy my music': other people brought it up first!). I got in contact with him and he agreed to come onto our radio show, even though we made it clear that it would be a joke and no one would be listening. He was the perfect guest though: funny, intelligent, informative and with a superlative record collection, some of which he brought in and played.There used to be a list of the records they liked on their website, which was brilliant and full of things that, at the time I didn't really see referenced anywhere else (they always seemed to me to be slightly ahead of the resurgence in folk/indie-folk/folktronica/freak-folk/whatever). Is this one of the most important points in the decade for me, musically-speaking? Yes, it probably is. There's a definite shift in taste around this point.
Towards the end of the year, James and I bump into each other (I didn't even know he was still at the college!). Having never really had a proper conversation with each other before, we decide to form a duo to make up for our previous failures: a little bit indie, a little bit folk, a little bit country. We study other acoustic acts so we know what we don't want to do (be boring, mainly) and he gives me a minidisc (hey, who remembers minidiscs?) of songs he's recorded, and away we go.
Candidate and the Broken Family Band: I've looked ahead, and this is clearly the starting point of everything that's to come...