Tindersticks will play a career spanning set at the Usher Hall this week.
It seems nobody listens to the words any more.
Since listening habits have moved from a sociable, group activity with the stereo to the personal with the MP3 player, one would have thought there would be more time for reflection on the meaning of songs. Music is everywhere, but more and more people seem only to let it permeate the exosphere of their conscience. As Kurt Cobain prophesised 20 years ago, “he’s the one who likes all our pretty songs… but he knows not what it means”. It seems all too many look at the picture without seeing it.
This week has revealed the perfect example. First of all we heard reports that the government had used Primal Scream’s Rocks (sample lyric “dealers keep on dealing, whores keep whorin’… ain’t no use in praying that’s the way it’s staying”) as introductory music during their party conference. Bobby Gillespie was outraged, only to discover that the song played was an entirely different Rolling Stones rip-off: The Dandy Warhols’ Bohemian like You.
Oh well, that’s ok then. They're not contentious at all…wait…
While there is no denying that Courtney Taylor’s group have some innocuous sounding pop-rock ditties, did Theresa May really want to walk off to the line “I guess it’s fair if he always pays the rent and doesn’t get bent about sleeping on the couch when I’m there”? The search for the next Things Can Only Get Better goes on.
Of course this is not a new phenomenon. Both Ronald Reagan and Chrysler motors were left red-faced when they interpreted Bruce Springsteen’s Born in the USA as a chest thumping, flag-waving anthem, rather than a song about disillusioned Vietnam veterans. As Alan Partridge once said, “Sunday, Bloody Sunday. What a great song. It really encapsulates the frustration of a Sunday doesn’t it? You wake up in the morning, you’ve got to read all the Sunday papers, the kids are running around…”
Thankfully there are acts that demand a sympathetic ear. Tindersticks are just such, and will be showing the fruits of their 15 year collaboration with French film-maker Claire Denis at the Usher Hall on Sunday 15th October this week. If Kasabian create music for Football Focus, Tindersticks soundtrack kitchen sink drama. Stuart Staples baritone indulges our inner voyeur and whispers us libidinous, drunken secrets. You have to lean in to hear.
How many writers would offer a line like “so many times I said that I love them, looking over my shoulder at the door”? Who can match the scene setting simplicity of “Nirvana’s on the jukebox, but Gene Pitney owns this town”? A Sinatra moulded from The Man With the Golden Arm rather than Songs for Swingin’ Lovers. An Ol’ Blue Eyes who’s been forced to deviate from My Way. Tindersticks are candle lights in the dark, and are exceptional live.
The Icarus Line’s show at King Tuts on Wednesday 12th October will be a little more illuminating. Like a flamethrower. From their hardcore origins The Icarus Line took in psychedelic and blues influences to create 2004’s Penance Soiree. This year’s Wildlife suggests that they’re still heavier than a Tom Waits’ cough, but now owe as much debt to the Jesus and Mary Chain, The Stooges, Royal Trux and The Fall as they do to the Hellcat stable of LA. It has divided the loyal fans, and now we can judge for ourselves.
Bill Wells and Aidan Moffat continue their weekend jaunts around the country with a Friday night show at Cabaret Voltaire in Edinburgh on the 14th and at the Lemon Tree in Aberdeen on the 15th of October.
The Blood Arm were one of the North American art-rock imports that really should have taken over (see also, Hot Hot Heat, Chromeo, The Faint) but found the UK public preferred The Killers over something killer. Their belated third album, Turn and Face Me, was released in July and the band play Captain’s Rest on Friday 14th in support. The LA quartet have the seal of approval from our very own Franz Ferdinand, and write songs as infectious as this…
Finally, The Dykeenies will be playing Oran Mor on Tuesday 18th in support of their epic sounding Canyon of Echoes. Sadly Madmartigan will not be in attendance. On record the Cumbernauld four-piece sound as if they are stripped for the major leagues, and next week will be the first chance for a Scottish audience to see how that translates to the stage.
