Samiam - You Are Freaking Me Out

John Saunders. There is the name of a man I have never met. However, it is through him that I discovered one of my favourite bands of all time. John Saunders was an older guy (I've no idea how old - 40?) whom my brother worked with. One day my brother came home from work with a pile of CDs by this band. There was something about the that I liked but there was something not quite clicking with me. I was in my mid teens and I was just getting in to music in a haphazard sort of a way.

I had gotten in to Oasis recently and had begun my Noel Gallagher obsession that lasted a while. I'd also gotten interested in a few other bands, like Pavement and The Flaming Lips - maybe Lowgold was around this time too, I cannot recall. However, I also liked Westlife and Jamiroquai. I knew the words to the vast majority of songs on rotaion on all the music channels on satalite televisions. I'm talking songs by Shaggy, Geri Halliwell, Nas, etc. Just about anything. I was a little bit opinionated (a lot of my opinions I'd simply adopted from my brother and there were some bands that I deemed too trendy and dismissed - post-Pablo Honey Radiohead).

...so, these Samiam CDs just sounded odd to me. The lyrics were almost exclusively not rhymning, the production seemed a bit too amateurish (I wont say 'rough' because I was already liking things with a rough edge to it but this just seemed off to me). Whatever it was, they are no longer opinions I hold, but at the time something just wasn't clicking. Then, one day when the house was empty I put on You Are Freaking Me Out - at the time their most recent release at the time. It was an easily their most mainstream record. At the time that I was listening to it Blink 182 were big, Jimmy Eat World were big, Hot Water Music were as big as they were going to ever be, and this album sat nicely among these bands. Except they were better - and a lot less 'immature' than Blink. This was also around the time that I was falling asleep a lot. I remember falling asleep on the kitchen table whilst listening to Samiam.

For many years I'd considered this album to be my favourite album (with the possible exception of The Masterplan by Oasis, if compilations were being included). I'm not sure I'd currently rate it that highly but it is a great album for taking me back to a time in my life. A time that, now I think about it, is quite a while back (a decade or so). It is very poppy in places, it's fun, it has a very good Beatles cover, it's rocky, it's rocky and it could have been a hit had the lead singer been thin and attractive rather than heading towards middleage and bald.

Since these teen years I have grown to like their other albums (including the two subsequent ones) as much as You Are Freaking Me Out. Few have the same memories attached though. However, there are memories attached to their most recent release as I had the chance to not only see them twice in two days (once at Underworld in Camden and once in Jacobs Well in Leeds) but I also, thanks to Scrip, got to interview Sergie Loobkoff (Guitarist, and primary songwriter) for our radioshow. We called him an hour early and woke him up....then I giggled my way through an interview with rather pathetic questions in. I thought Id be able to link a copy of the show where we interviewed Sergie into this blog but I cannot find it online and I no longer have access to the PC I had at the time - maybe Scrip has a copy.

Seafood – When Do We Start Fighting? (2001)

This album reminds me of the Film Studies room at Sixth Form. I heard this via Adam McGee. Oh yes, Adam McGee made a recommendation and I liked it. A lot. I think the only copy I had of this was on minidisc, and I listened to that minidisc a hell of a lot. I used to fall asleep very happy on the bus back home.

There is a great deal of variety on this album – rocky numbers, quieter ones, and from the reviews I've read they have influences from lots of bands I'm not too familiar with (due, in part, I think, to not listening to music based on reviews in my teens). I don't really prefer the loud or the quiet songs as it really works a lot better as a whole. It is one of those ones that I'd listen to the whole way through, rather than chopping in the singles and making a mix tape/CD/minidisc/playlist. Not to say that the songs don't stand out on their own, I just hear something like 'What May Be The Oldest' in isolation and feel I've cheated and that I should have started at the start and worked up to that.

Like a lot of bands I really like there are both male and female vocalists.

I'd say the ideal place to listen to this album is either on a bus, through headphones, as you gently fall asleep or through speakers on seat by a window on a very bright, though not necessarily warm, day. Again, you'll likely end up asleep. Or maybe, I listened to it during a particularly draining growth spurt in my late teens that just associates listening to, and loving, this album in conjunction with falling to sleep.

Carole King – Tapestry (1971)

I first got in to this album via Guy Nottage. I asked him if he could recommend any songs about love, but love within a relationship that has gone on a while. He made some suggestions. The one that fitted my request the least, but was by far the best to my ear (the rest was all John Lennon and other losers) was one by Carole King. I went out and bought Tapestry (I think) the very next day. Was bloody good. Not often is one of those “Albums You Must Hear Before You Die” from yesteryear lives up to the reputation (I can't be doing with all this Pet Sounds, Astral Weeks stuff).

This also came during a period of listening to almost entirely female fronted bands/ solo artists for me. I don't know if she started the trend or whether she just fit in.

There are about three songs on the album that I knew beforehand but not as Carole King songs. However, I think each one of those ('...Natural Woman', 'You Got a Friend' and 'Will You Love Me Tomorrow') is better by King than there, possibly, more famous incarnations. I'm also a very easily bored person and when I bought the album I was a little concerned that the album might bore me (as I often feel when listening to some like Joni Mitchell or Bob Dylan) but it is totally catchy for the most part. You can even jig to some stuff. Maybe it was the cardi and the cat on the sleeve that concerned me. But my childlike enthusiasm for catchiness was satisfied without it going to far and into Shampoo-territory. Oh yeah, that's right, I mentioned Shampoo in an article/review/ thing about Carole King. Don't see that often happen.

Magnetic Fields – 69 Love Songs (1999)

I discovered the Magnetic Fields through The Adventures Of Pete & Pete and they were some of the first things I ever downloaded (after Preston School Of Industry and The Thrills, of course). I didn't buy the album itself until university, whence I received my Student Loan. I loved my Student Loan. I have to say, I probably could have spent it wiser – I bought a new Hall and Oates album whilst at university based on waking up in the middle of the night to see that a repeat of Des and Mel was on TV and Hall and Oates were performing a track from their new album that, to me, half asleep, seemed like something I must own, in spite of their new album costing roughly £16.

However, I did use it to buy 69 Love Songs, which is absolutely fantastic. There are a few duds on here, but very few and there are 69 tracks. It is also the campest album I own. Which is no bad thing. I do enjoy singing aloud the lyrics 'There's a floating town of eiderdown/ in a mist of mystery/There's an old enchanted castle/ and the princess there is me/ decked out like a Christmas tree.'

The concept of 69 songs about love sounds awful really but that is only if you take love songs to be the same old turd that Michael Bolton and his ilk sing. When you make it about different aspects of love; the fancying (Underwear, Let's Pretend We're Bunny Rabbits), the longing, (I Don't Want To Get Over You,) the jealousy (The One You Really Love), etc and then add songs about love songs themselves, add in women singing from the perspective of men, songs about gay and straight people and heap on a shit load of humour it makes for a great listen. The songs also sound different despite of themes that tie them together (lots of electronic stuff, lots of ukulele, lots of baritone singing, and a female vocalist, being some of said themes).

The first few listens I listened to it the whole way through. Getting the album brings with it an event. You sit (or lay) and you listen to it in one go. You do that with most albums but most aren't both brilliant and three hours long. Just thinking about it makes me want to start listening to it right now, but I wont because A) it's 00:42 and I've work in the morrow and B) I'm already listening to 'The Age Of Plastic' by The Buggles.

If I had to pick a few highlights I'd probably pick (and these are likely really obvious ones that cool people would tut at me for saying) 'Papa Was A Rodeo', 'Luckiest Guy On The Lower East Side', 'Long Forgotten Fairytale', 'Busby Berkley Dreams' – to be fair, picking a select few from this album is almost as tricky as writing this 100 Albums list – I give up.

The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart – The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart (2009)

There is apparently this band called The Jesus & Mary Chain. Whoever knew? Anyway, I don't actually remember where I first heard this. I think it may have been one of the things I took interest in after seeing an advert in a music magazine. I do like to base my downloads on adverts for bands I've never heard, rather than recommendations. Recommendations bring expectations (as I am doing with this list). I like to enquire about things if I like the cover or an advert. My brother bought 'Serendipity' by John Martyn, and it lived up to its name – that's where I got it from. I also did this with Gossip's 'Standing In The Way Of Control.' I'd overplayed that to the point of starting to turn on it before the radio did that job for everyone else.

Anyhow, I've digressed somewhat from the case at hand. TPOBPAH have a lovely warmth to them, the fuzzy guitars are the audio equivalent of those blankets with sleeves that were all the rage amongst people who buy JML products a year or two ago (I'm a tad jealous I never got bought one. No sleeved blanket, and I'm missing the boat on the Onesie at the moment). The female vocalist sounds pretty, which is good. I think I've seen her...the mind draws a blank, but she sounds pretty. Again, like with Neutral Milk Hotel, it makes me want to learn to play. I think I tried, and failed to rip-off 'Contender' with one of my songs. Luckily, I'm so inept that no-one will ever figure out which one it was.

The album, I believe, just about avoids twee-ness. Not that I have a massive aversion to twee. I do think certain coffee shops in Norwich are going a bit to far, but I like twee music. But I think, in spite of the female vocalists efforts, avoids it. Just, It is on the cusp of tweeness.

I think, essentially this album sums up the type of music I like: incredibly poptastic tunes, not the most blatant lyrics, and production that is somewhere between fucking awful and spot-on – but no more than spot on or we get into Jason Mraz studio album territory.

Neutral Milk Hotel - In The Aeroplane Over The Sea (1998)

I started listening to this after ShoutCast (Yahoo owned Last.fm/Spotify/Pandora type thing) kept recommending it to me. It wasn't wrong in its suggestion. This was back in first year of university. It has become one of my most listened to albums since then.

There is a melancholy, dreamlike quality to it – which is lovely – but it is also highly sing-along-to-able. The memory I have attached to this is towards the end of my tenure living with thee David James Funnell and standing in his doorway singing along to it with him as he sat on his bed. He was probably meant to be tidying his room. As someone who is conscious of the fact he cannot sing, it is quite enjoyable to sing as loudly as you can in the presence of another person.

Lyrically speaking, this album is brilliant. Do I know what it is about? I think there is some stuff about Anne Frank in it, and I've read it is inspired by a dream the singer had but other than that, no. Not really. But the words are interesting and not obvious. If the album were a wine, and I was some cunt sniffing it, I might say that I smell sadness and love and loss and a hint of longing.

It is also one of those albums that makes a person like me (a talentless hack) want to learn the guitar to play along, because it sounds so good but it doesn't seem complex and the vocals are brilliant although they are strained and cracked and nasally. They (or he – Neutral Milk Hotel are, essentially one fellow) have become reclusive and future releases seem unlikely. There is something I like about that. They'd likely never better this.

The Shaggs – Philosophy Of The World (1969)

Outsider music is supposedly created by people who are not self aware. I feel this is not true of The Shaggs. They have acknowledged that they don't think their music was good. Their dad, however, is another matter. If you don't know the back story of The Shaggs I'd suggest reading up on it. If, however, you can't be arsed, here is a brief run through: Granny has dream that she has granddaughters who are big rock stars, dad eventually has daughters, removes them from school, forces them to take guitar lessons, they show no musical competency, he makes them record an album, 1000 records pressed, 900 stolen by producer, everyone forgets it ever happened, Frank Zappa says The Shaggs are better than the Beatles, The Shaggs become cult heroines.

This album completely changed my view on music. I really love the enforced creativity of people who are seemingly 'not the creative types' – fuck the creative types, everyone has an album in them in my opinion (70 if you are Jandek). I love the naïvety of the lyrics and how uncool the themes are in many places (Hallowe'en, Pets, Parents being great). It is also a little disturbing. Although probably a nice (if weird) family, listening to this strange sounding attempt at pop gives the impression that their father is a weird Ed Gein-cum-pushy X-Factor parent. And after further reading on the father, he does sound like the kind of person you read about in “women's magazines.”

The title track is a wonderful song. It is like a childlike view of the world, and it is pretty spot on I'd say (the skinny people do want what the fat peoples got, and vice versa). The problem is, these are teens/twenties girls, not 10 year olds. Like I said, the naivety appeals to me (not sex-wise).

What might not be acknowledged after one listen, however, is how sad a lot of the songs are. Although not 'naturally creative' Dot Wiggins did take advantage on occasions to pour her heart out in the way that only she can.

I first came across The Shaggs at university. I stumbled across a website called Show and Tell Music. It was very late at night, and it had that creepy quality that Jandek has. The night I first heard The Shaggs, I also heard Diary Of An Unborn Child by Lil Markie which was far creepier. Obviously, this gave me the prime opportunity to isolate myself from everyone by playing it on my radio show that week. The listener-ship was low before then already. My mum probably even switched off.

One last thing on The Shaggs – some people wondered whether or not this was legit or if it was an avant-garde jazz trio making difficult to play avant-garde music. Somehow people think that had that been the case they'd accept and appreciate The Shaggs, but if it were just some girls with limited musical ability then it is shit. Surely the means by which you make the sound is irrelevant and as long as you get enjoyment out of it then it is good, in your opinion.

Danger Danger – Screw It! (1991)

This album is one I acquired for 10p from Prism Leisure in Great Yarmouth. From the cover I knew exactly what to expect. On the front there is a painting of a gorilla in a denim waistcoat, swinging from a branch, holding a bikini clad, blonde, human woman, who is eating a banana. On the back is a photo of a selection of the cheesiest Cock-Rock/Hair-Metal men you could ever wish to behold. 

And there is a startling lack of irony here. And I think that is what I love so much about this. In the same way that BrassEye is hilarious but when you see the presentation of actual news programs be worse, without trying, it is even funnier, Danger Danger are probably funnier than Spinal Tap. These guys sing songs like Slipped Her The Big One and Yeah, You Want It with a straight face. And then they segue into songs about love such as I Still Think About You. These men are not ashamed of being massive buffoons. Their self parody is possibly most well presented by the (very early) highlight of the album: Ginger Snaps/ Monkey Business. Starting with some basic drumming accompanied by female orgasm noises and the noises of an ape(!), which continues for a minute (making up the Ginger Snaps element of the song) and then into “AIN'T NO BUSINESS LIKE MONKEY BUSINESS!” The lyrics to Monkey Business are amazing. My highlight of the house party I recently attended was singing aloud MB with the aforementioned David Funnell. Funnell, being possibly the only person I know who has learned the lyrics AND how to play the song on guitar.

Although there are probably many cheesier and many better examples of this genre of music, I don't feel the need to expand my knowledge in this area. I rather pathetically listen to Monkey Business more than any other song I own, and it is therefore the best 10p I ever did spend.

As an irrelevant aside, I saw this on Facebook and it made me laugh:

Fiery Furnaces – Rehearsing My Choir (2005)

I'm not a big Fiery Furnaces fan. I've tried giving their music a listen but it really doesn't grab me. I enjoyed seeing them live though. I just mustn't dig their songs, and the production seems a little bit too nice for my liking. However, I love this album. This album is brilliant.

The album features the usual members of the band and Olga Sarantos, the band members grandmother. She provides spoken word pieces. I really enjoy the grandmother/ granddaughter vocal combo, the old dear spinning yarns. If I understand this correctly, sometimes it is a grandma interacting with her granddaughter and sometimes the granddaughter is playing the role of a young Olga. Or something. It has that so uncool that it is cool quality.

The music itself is fairly complex, I reckon (I'm fairly musically ignorant from a technical point of view). It's pretty all over the place. Songs change direction completely halfway through. However, it's a bit like one long song...or rather the album as a whole is like an opera or something. The Candymaker's Knife In My Handbag sounds like it should be in a Mighty Boosh-like comedy. The whole thing is dreamlike.

Apparently the lyrics are followable, and the writer has explained what decade each song is from. I've never actually tried to follow it. The album itself brings back the memory of eating chicken in the kitchen of the first house I shared with David Funnell. We listened to the album whilst we were cleaning the kitchen before we moved out of the house. Well...we listened to this album whilst we ate food and talked. We were having a break, alright!

I really like this album. But this is making me sound like one of those people who is deliberately selecting the weirdest stuff he can think of. Well, we'll get to Oasis later.

Jandek - Blue Corpse (1982)

I wouldn't say that I 'like' Jandek in the traditional sense of the word. His music can be difficult to listen to. It is depressing and mostly tuneless. It is supposedly played in Jandek's own special “black” key, which pretty much amounts to being completely out of tune. The music is essentially blues, I suppose, but really scary blues. This is the sort of music you expect to be made by a psychopath. Perhaps it is. I just can't help but like Jandek. His solitude appeals greatly to me. I think Jandek's appeal for most (well, let's be fair, there is no appeal 'for most' here) is the mystery that surrounds him. For me Jandek is a man who lives in a sparsely decorated house. He sleeps on a grey mattress. All spare cash is spent on creating these albums. He has little contact with others. He's pretty fed up with the world. Maybe he hates the world. Yet, he feels this music with droning vocals, harsh clanging, detuned guitar and not-exactly-chipper lyrics might have appeal and promotes it. The guy has created roughly 70 albums, and promoted them in the way a recluse might. I wonder if he has moved on and created a myspace page...

I find the best way to listen to Jandek is at roughly 2 am, whilst reading about Jandek and/or serial killers. It gives me a feeling of huge paranoia. I half expect to Jandek approach like Nosferatu, from behind. It is spooky. I keep looking at the window, half expecting to see a face. When I go to get a glass of water my own reflection in the window will startle me. Yet I like Jandek. It's like a musical Stockholm Syndrome.

I went through a phase of listening to Jandek through headphones as I slept. Weird. I'd wake at 3am to the clanging sound of Jandek thumping away at his guitar and drearily moaning about something.

I've selected this album because it is the one with Nancy Sings on. Nancy Sings has a female vocalist (we'll assume her name is Nancy). It helps break up the intense Jandekness of it all. I really like that song. I imagine her as a hippie alcoholic who has somehow managed to befriend Jandek and 'gets' him.

I could probably have chosen one of many of his albums – without being a huge Jandek obsessive, many of the tracks from any one “era of Jandek” sound similar. Not in a Wesley Willis, “this song is exactly the same” sort of way, but in the way one detuned guitar randomly plucked at by someone who 'cannot play' sounds much like any other detuned guitar randomly plucked at by someone who 'cannot play.'