A few songs manage to pull me in immediately, when a wonderful intro promises something special. Sometimes, admittedly, I end up feeling that those first few bars were sadly all the track had to offer. Occasionally, I'm treated to a journey that is a constant pleasure throughout. The latest single from Norway's Making Marks (previously known as mylittlepony) definitely offers me the latter.
"Barcodes" begins with a gentle guitar riff that manages to flutter the heart within just a few notes, somehow calling up wistful emotions far easier - and quicker - that one might expect. The male/female vocals that follow are harmonised beautifully, singing of heartache and a return home, and always delivered with a smooth and modest tone.
With an album expected very soon, Making Marks have caught my attention in a gentle and fascinating way: "Barcodes" sounds like falling in love.
So... one of the labels/tags I've given this post is, 'Guilty Pleasure?'. Personally, if I'm being totally honest, I don't think there's really such a thing as a guilty pleasure (hence the question mark). Just because you enjoy a song that many might consider to be 'frivolous', or a little too 'pop', or lacking any classic status, doesn't mean you should feel guilty about it. Some of my favourite songs could probably be considered as being too 'commercial' or too 'produced' or too 'manufactured'.
But, quite frankly, I don't care. If I like a song then I'm not really bothered as to how mainstream it is or isn't. I'll just hit here and enjoy it all by myself thankyouverymuchindeed. And Wham!... well... they were about as pop and commercial as the 80's got (and there was plenty of competition for that accolade, too). I know that and recognise that, sure. That's why I'm labelling it that way. But really, I don't feel bad about liking it at all. Apparently, George Michael (one half of Wham!, with Andrew Ridgeley) has stated that this is his favourite of the group's songs, and isn't so happy with some of the less-credible back catalogue.
I don't remember this song when it was first released, mainly because I wasn't quite two years old at the time (1984). I don't even recall hearing it as I grew up, nor when I started developing my own love of music from the 1980's. In fact, I even bought Wham!'s greatest hits album, but I'm pretty sure I didn't even bother listening to this track.
As far as I'm aware, the first time I heard this song was when I bought a compilation album of 1980's 12" mixes: 12"/80s/Dance. That was probably when it was released in 2006, so I was only about 22 years late listening to it.
It didn't take long for me to start listening to it on repeat, learning all the words, joining in with the oohs and aahs, mimicing the synth-drum intro (which seems to pop into my mind at least once a week), and ultimately letting it become the only song I listened to each day during my journey to and from work.
Unusually for a track by Wham!, there appears to be a little more of a story to the song. It isn't just, "I love you, you love me, wooo!" or a series of obvious rhymes tentatively linked together. There's a process, a verse-by-verse account of events that gives the lyrics a little more depth. Again, this is something I don't really feel can often be said for Wham!, and I feel a little silly for even suggesting it. But to hell with it, this is my breakdown of what happens:
Guy starts relationship with Girl.
Guy's friends say, "Watch it buddy, she's seriously materialistic and is just after money."
Guy ignores them because, hey, he's in love.
Six months later, Guy realises his friends were right: she's always after the next new thing.
Guy questions how he can possible please her.
Guy questions why he is trying.
Guy points out that the relationship now just consists of him working so that she can have new stuff.
Guy demands that things become less one-sided.
Girl tells him she's pregnant.
Guy feigns happiness.
Guy warns that he can't take much more
Guy questions how he can possibly provide for both of them
Guy questions if he even loves Girl anymore
Guy acknowledges that having all this stuff together is meaningless.
Guy is aware that it will soon end...
Poor Guy, huh? Or perhaps foolish Guy for letting it get that far.
So...
As well as a guilty pleasure, I also labelled this song as being life-changing. I mean that entirely from just my perspective - I doubt very much that it caused any great alterations in the world. But, for me, it had a slight effect. Two years into owning this song, I happened to be in a relationship that I wasn't entirely happy with. Things felt decidedly one-sided, financial burdens seemed to be solely upon me, and I knew that things weren't heading the right way.
Then, one morning as I drove to work, my iPod shuffled to this song. I hadn't forgotten about it as such, so it wasn't some great rediscovery, but I hadn't really listened to it for a little while either. But up it popped, and I sang along as I always do. Two key lines hit me as I joined in:
"They told me marriage was a give and take,
Well you've shown me you can take, you've got some giving to do."
"My God, I don't even think that I love you."
Sure, I wasn't married, but that's not the point. The thing was, as I sung these lines, I made myself ever-so-slightly more aware that, actually, this wasn't working. It was as though I was reminding myself that I wasn't happy, and make think an awful lot more about it. I wouldn't go so far as to say, "Listening to this song made me end the relationship," but it was like a wake-up call. I was singing the things that I was already thinking, and maybe should be saying.
And so that's why I label as one of only a handful of 'life-changing' songs.
Believe me, I would have laughed uncontrollably if someone had told me, "Wham! will make you re-evaluate your life".
In a previous post, I mentioned how I tend to alter between listening to the radio and listening to my iPod, because I start to get anxious about either neglecting a collection of music I already own (and much of which I might not have heard of), or about missing out on something new. One thing that both options can offer me though, is rediscovery.
Generally, if I'm listening to the radio during the day, then I am listening to BBC's Radio 1. In terms of musical variety, the daytime shows admittedly don't offer very much; focusing primarily on what is currently considered to be a chart hit, or is expected to be successful. I am not bothered by this at all because I do enjoy a lot of accessible, mainstream music. However, some of the evening and late-night shows are less to my taste. If I happen to be driving at night, listening to the radio, and Radio 1 isn't providing me with something I like, then I'll usually switch to one of two local radio stations.
Both stations play a broader mix of music. Not so much in terms of genre, but in age. Although peppered with advertising between songs (and this is the main reason I don't generally listen to it), local radio can provide me with music from the last four or five decades.
Occasionally... very occasionally... I'll be listening to the radio and a song will begin to play that I haven't heard for a very long time. A forgotten song. And not just any forgotten song, but a song that I my have once loved. Pretty quickly I will spot that the introduction is familiar, and then I'll turn up the volume and suddenly find myself rediscovering the tune again.
For me, it can be quite a profound feeling. It's like finding a letter from long ago and, as you read through it, you begin to remember parts of it even though the details had left your memory. It's like getting a whole wave of nostalgia rush past... no specifics, no great moments from time picked out. Just a few minutes where the memory of the song is reignited again. I love that feeling.
It doesn't exclusively happen when I'm listening to radio either. If I scroll through the music I own in iTunes, there's plenty in there that I haven't yet listened to. They may be songs on a compilation album, or I may have just forgotten that I even own them at all. Regardless, shuffling through them can sometimes bring up one of those little gems.
Usually, once I've rediscovered a song, it'll then be played incessantly for some time (repeat is my friend, remember?). Then I guess time will pass. My love-affair with the song will burn out. Perhaps, a year or two later, it'll suddenly pop up once again, and we'll rekindle our affections.
All this means is that I'm pretty much feeling pulled between three musical options:
Stick with my familiar and comfortable musical partners, and remain content with what they give me.
Go out looking for a hot new fling: some new song that I've yet to hear, but can soon embrace.
Suddenly come across an old-flame - that song I once loved - and continue where I left off.
I flick through all of these options week by week. The only conclusion I can come to is that I must be some kind of manwhore for music, but also very lucky in that option #1 always takes me back.
DISCLAIMER: My musical habits do not mirror my relationship habits :)
"Music washes away from the soul, the dust of everyday life" - Berthold Auerbach
Okay, so... just had a big surprise. My intention was to write about this song with reference to certain moments it reminds me of. Yep, just a little nostalgia-spree again. In the moments before writing the first words, I took a look at the Wikipedia page for it just to check the date it was released. Had a little surprise from the first paragraph.
This is a COVER VERSION?!
In all the years that I have loved this song, I assumed that it was written by (or, at the very least, for) Annie Lennox. Turns out that it was originally written and sung by a group from the 1980's called The Lover Speaks, who gained a recording contract with a little help from Lennox's Eurythmics band mate Dave Stewart. The group also toured with The Eurythmics. I can only assume that Annie Lennox heard it enough times to decide she wanted a go at it.
The original version is very mid-80's in all the ways I love and adore in so many songs. I hear similarities to Simple Minds, as well as power-ballad groups like Cutting Crew and Mister Mister. If it had been on one of the Weetabix cassettes that I mentioned in a previous post, and therefore I'd have spent my early years listening to it repeatedly, I'm sure I would have been eagerly spouting facts about the original when Annie Lennox released her cover.
But it wasn't. And I'm not.
I prefer Lennox's version by miles. I always struggle to answer the question, "What's your favourite song?" but this is certainly somewhere on the long list. The introduction alone (a single synth chord before the 'Do be do be's) makes me feel excited for the rest of the song and, as a whole, the song feels a little darker and honest in her version. The mid-section features talk of monsters and sounds of laughing (giving me those 'moment shivers' I talked about in a previous post) . It's... weird, yes, somewhat ethereal, but entirely fitting with the rest of the song.
"I used to have demons, in my room at night. Desire, despair, desire, so many monsters."
And, oh!, one of Annie's final calls of 'You' that hits that higher note: it completes the song for me, somehow.
How on earth do you describe what makes you love a song so much? Lyrically, I have never found it particularly easy to translate and understand yet I've always managed to feel like there's some kind of story going on. The feeling the song gives me is that of fallen relationships, and a difficulty in finding a way to move on.
The original version, personally, just doesn't sound quite so heartfelt. The passion and audible pain that exists in Lennox's cover just isn't present when I hear The Lover Speaks. I apologise to all the fans of the original, and I'm sure they would scream in protest at my disregard for it. Sorry.
Aside from the pure beauty of the song itself when Lennox sings it, her version also reminds me of a couple of things. The first is going to a youth club as an eleven(ish)-year-old, and the song playing on a stereo in the main hall. Somebody went to skip it (probably preferring to find something a little more upbeat and party-appropriate), and asked if anybody minded. I piped up that, yes, I minded. In remembering this specific event, I also end up recalling other moments from spending time at that club: notably having a huge crush on a girl there, and all the silly little feelings that went with that.
Secondly, this song also reminds me of when my sister went and bought me a copy of Lennox's album Medusa. I had bought the single of No More "I Love You's" and played it incessantly, so my sister clearly thought I'd enjoy the rest of the album. So, yep, she bought it for me. And my response when she was about to hand it to me?
"Why did you buy me that? I didn't ask for it, did I?!"
Wow, I was a real brat :)
Needless to say, it was about a decade later when I actually bought the album for myself since, understandably, my sister decided not to give me the gift.
As a final note, this song has given me one extra pleasing surprise today. I was humming it whilst wandering the house and in walked my girlfriend, back from work. She heard me, and began to sing the 'Do be do be do do do... a-aaa' vocals. I very quickly learnt that she loves this song, and loves Annie Lennox. Musical connections like this are important to me, so it makes me very happy indeed.
"Ah, music! A magic beyond all we do here" -JK Rowling (Harry Potter & The Philosopher's Stone)
