The acoustic introduction in Angie is like an emotional Tar-Baby, ensnared in which I can find every dreary Wednesday afternoon I ever sat through wishing I were somewhere else. And draped over the thin but broad shoulders of the orchestral accompaniment as the song climaxes, I can find every sunset I ever sat and watched while coming to the restless realization that is if anything was going to change in this big, daunting world - in my big, daunting world - something drastic needed to happen.
Haunting to this day, but gorgeous. Just gorgeous. For my money, Angie is one of the most expertly rendered ballads ever - vocals, percussion, instrumentation...it's all there (listen to that fucking piano!), and The Stones are certainly one of the most diverse rock bands ever. They stand second to no one.
"Angie, Angie, ain't it good to be alive...?"
#116) "Suddenly Last Summer" by The Motels - The lyrics leave a little to be desired...well, okay, they leave a lot to be desired. But Martha Davis' voice brings them to life...well, okay, maybe performs mouth-to-mouth. But the positively mesmerizing bass line, coupled with a middle interlude of bells, synthesizers and guitars that tumble down the rock canyon of my senses, creates a phenomenal mood, the kind of place, the kind of time, I would always prefer to find myself in love in.
And as to the lyrics, does love always - or ever - make sense? Or have to?
And as to the lyrics, does love always - or ever - make sense? Or have to?
"It keeps me standing still, it takes all my will..."
#117) "Free Will" by Rush - A long time ago, I made the mistake of engaging in a debate with a music snob, one of those people who set forth nothing less than a self-styled moral authority on what they consider to be good music and what they consider to be bad music, and always make sure to throw down names of musicians and bands nobody's ever heard of to inoculate their taste from the dreaded charge of mediocrity. This, whether they actually listen to or know the music at all. Often, for many, it's enough to be fashionable.
It's likely this guy wasn't a poser, however. He was a musician himself, a drummer, and I'm pretty sure he actually listened to and liked all that obscure, alternative music he spoke of. And that's fine. The problem wasn't that he was alternative anything, it was that he immediately dismissed the whole of Top 40 music spanning forty years as mere pap, and was quick to pounce when I remarked, mostly in passing, that a) Rush was a fairly innovative and talented band in their day, with a lot to say, and (especially) b) Neil Peart was/is a hell of a drummer.
It's likely this guy wasn't a poser, however. He was a musician himself, a drummer, and I'm pretty sure he actually listened to and liked all that obscure, alternative music he spoke of. And that's fine. The problem wasn't that he was alternative anything, it was that he immediately dismissed the whole of Top 40 music spanning forty years as mere pap, and was quick to pounce when I remarked, mostly in passing, that a) Rush was a fairly innovative and talented band in their day, with a lot to say, and (especially) b) Neil Peart was/is a hell of a drummer.
Whether Rush deserves to be remembered in the annals of music history is open to debate, I guess (I still think so), but if you listen to Free Will, Neal Peart's seemingly computer timed rhythm-keeping makes the song what it is, yet it was this very precision that the music snob took issue with. No, no, no, he said (definitely a 'three no' kind of guy...), Neil Peart's a little too tight, little too stringent. He flashed a patronizing (and totally stringent) smile. He doesn't really know how to interpret.
I didn't know what the hell he was talking about at the time, and I still don't. I think Neal Peart's drumming in all of Rush's music has a way of creating a melody all it's own.
Whatever. All I know is that in my fantasy band, especially when I'm driving down the road (as I will be for long stretches on 1/48/50), I'm almost always the singer, or pianist, or guitarist.
Unless I'm jamming to Rush, when I become the drummer (er, you know, in the richly decorated rumpus room of my mind...;-), the guy who keeps it all together, sitting mostly hidden at the back of the stage, stitching it all up nice and tight, and in Peart's case, doing nothing less than making the bleeding stop. ;-)
Whatever. All I know is that in my fantasy band, especially when I'm driving down the road (as I will be for long stretches on 1/48/50), I'm almost always the singer, or pianist, or guitarist.
Unless I'm jamming to Rush, when I become the drummer (er, you know, in the richly decorated rumpus room of my mind...;-), the guy who keeps it all together, sitting mostly hidden at the back of the stage, stitching it all up nice and tight, and in Peart's case, doing nothing less than making the bleeding stop. ;-)
"If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice..."
