My Alphabetical iPod Diary (Day 4): The Singer-Songwriter Edition
“Accidentally Like A Martyr” by Warren Zevon (from Excitable Boy)
“Accidents Will Happen” by Elvis Costello (from Armed Forces)
“Achin’ To Be” by The Replacements aka Paul Westerberg (from All For Nothing / Nothing For All)
“Acorns & Orioles” by Guided By Voices aka Robert Pollard (from Under The Bushes Under The Stars)
“Acoustic Guitar” by The Magnetic Fields aka Stephin Merritt (from 69 Love Songs, Vol. 3)
“Across The Antheap” by XTC aka Andy Partridge (from Oranges & Lemons)
Six different singer–songwriters, six totally different types of music. These guys really have nothing in common except that their songs magically appeared in alphabetical order on my iPod. My familiarity with each individual varies, but my enjoyment of them is consistent.
The late, great Warren Zevon was a part of a California songwriter movement in the late-60s, but was unable to really connect with an audience as a performer until a few years later. Zevon’s 1978 breakthrough, Excitable Boy contains some of his most beloved material. Mixing the sly, satirical musings of a Randy Newman with the piano rock tendencies of Billy Joel and perhaps a tiny bit of Bruce Springsteen’s guttural howl, Zevon had fully carved out a niche for himself that won him a strong following up until his unfortunate death just a few years ago. “Accidentally Like A Martyr” isn’t necessarily a standout track on Excitable Boy, and it’s less bitingly dark than Zevon’s other work, but this story of a failed relationship contains some great lyrics (“Accidentally like a martyr / The hurt gets worse and the heart gets harder”) and great background vocals provided by another underrated songwriter by the name of Jackson Browne. Also, the post-chorus piano line is a terrific little mood shift.
One of Zevon’s caustic contemporaries was Elvis Costello, who perfected the art of punchy, pointed, literapunk. I have a hard time picking a favorite Elvis Costello album. I’m sure the consensus choice would be This Year’s Model and I know I’ve always had a soft spot for the underrated Trust, but if push came to shove, 1979’s sparkling, political Armed Forces, would be my personal pick. “Accidents Will Happen” kicks off Armed Forces with Costello’s distinctive vocal ticks (the first five seconds run similar territory to Model’s “No Action”) and the carnival vibe that keyboardist Steve Nieve provides and maintains for the rest of the album. “Accidents” belongs to NIeve, which explains why it has become a live staple of Costello’s for years, requiring little more than a piano.
In terms of embittered day-glo new wave, no band quite rivaled Costello like XTC. While Andy Partridge, Colin Moulding and the gang created some terrifically agitated early albums (Drums And Wires is maybe the finest new wave album ever), the band really began carving out their identity after Partridge had a nervous breakdown and decided to make XTC a studio only band, embracing warmer sounds and glossier production. Partridge was Lennon to Moulding’s McCartney, and his songs were always a little less immediate, but he’s the more celebrated songwriter these days (the brooding one always wins out in the end). “Across The Antheap,” from 1989’s Oranges & Lemons, an album I only have cursory familiarity with, opens with a dark, jazzy refrain before kicking into a frenetic onslaught of dirty guitar lines, keyboard builds, manic background chants and, of course, Andy Partridge’s maturing new wave hiccup. It’s like all the best psych bands of the 60s only updated their equipment and not their songwriting. XTC were the only band attempting such shimmering psychedlia and no one has really sounded like them ever since. Andy Partridge is one of the true greats.
Around the same time that XTC were fully immersed in a creative resurgence, another major label endorsed underground group were dying a slow death. The Replacements had become one of the most beloved booze bands on the college rock circuit. Unfortunately, songwriter Paul Westerberg’s careerist desire got in the way of the band’s reckless and destructive tendencies. Westerberg fired sloppy guitar god and fucked-up folk hero Bob Stinson and began turning away from the band’s hardcore roots (which, really, were all but dissolved by 1986’s masterpiece, Tim). “Achin’ To Be,” from 1989’s Don’t Tell A Soul (the only Replacement’s album I do not own, I got this song from the terrific major label “best of,” All For Nothing / Nothing For All), contains a bit of a country rock feel paired with Westerberg’s raspy vocals and “Wow, I think he might of accidentally said something poetic there” lyrics. It’s a pretty great song from a not particularly dynamic record. The truth is, “Achin’ To Be” is a better illustration of how the band influenced the Goo Goo Dolls than, say, the Hold Steady. Still, it’s hella catchy tune, at least on par with Westerberg’s consistent solo work.
The young drunken, sloppy, self-sabotaging Replacements probably would have been a huge influence on the drunken, sloppy, self-sabotaging Robert Pollard of the drunken, sloppy, self-sabotaging Guided By Voices, leaders of the early 90’s lo-fi indie movement. Pollard tended to write prog-pop song fractures typically buried under layers of tape hiss. To some it was and is amazing, to others it’s just tape hiss. “Acorns & Orioles” (from 1996’s Under The Bush Under The Stars) is slightly higher-fi and it sounds a LOT like REM. Or Idlewild. The improved production serves Pollard’s song well, but the best way to hear GBV, for me, is to listen to one of their hissy, crackly albums in whole, wonder to myself, “What the hell was that?” and realize about a week later that all I’ve been doing for the last seven days is humming some 20 second fragment from a 50 second song.
Stephin Merritt’s Magnetic Fields tend to dabble in the same kind of lo-fidelity pop craftsmanship. The band’s catalogue contains roughly 0% low-end production. But, like GBV, Merritt’s songwriting strengths rise above the muck. “Acoustic Guitar” is a certain standout on the third disc of 69 Love Songs. Claudia Gonson takes lead vocal duties on this ode to her favorite instrument, but it’s Merritt’s brilliant words that make the song so wonderful (“Acoustic guitar, if you think I play hard / Well could have belonged to Steve Earle / Or Charo / Or Gwar”). The song also employs and more than implies same-sex longing (Gonson sings “Just bring me back my girl”). It’s something the Merritt uses on a number of his finest tracks and, especially in pop music - which this most definitely is, it is not something that most listeners would be used to. That little bit of oddness only adds to the overally excellence of “Acoustic Guitar.”
So that’s it for the “Speaking Of Segues…” edition of My Alphabetical iPod Diary.” Stay tuned for more singer-songwriter goodness.