unravel

Today I felt inclined to wing it (not to say I ever approach this blog thing any differently; I just wanted to pick a couple songs I like, then write…).  So, here I am, wondering what could possibly be the thematic link between these three choice cuts: Air France’s “Collapsing at Your Doorstep;” James Brown’s “Mother Popcorn;” and No Age’s “Eraser.”

Believe me, you couldn’t pair any of those on a playlist and have it sound natural.  Even the inclination to move bodies doesn’t unite Air France and James Brown as much as you’d think: “Collapsing” isn’t quite dance music (despite every manner of infectious hand percussion: tambourines, bongos, claps, cowbell), and its twee sensibility makes it a warm, nostalgic form of boogie (I think of the Snoopy step-wiggle-step school of dancing, except with the occasional fist-pump and possibly a few wisps of tears).  Conversely, “Popcorn” has nothing in the way of horns, strings, or synths suited for an 80s anthem (of course, there are horns, just punchier).  More importantly, “Popcorn” is a much more stream-lined affair than “Collapsing,” for it shares no similarities as far as composition; instead of the build-and-release style of Air France, James just cuts the fat and leaves the stark, chalky bones of pure rhythm (god, that bass!) for the horns and his voice to cling to (I’ll call those elements the muscle that fill out that tight, skeletal framework of drums and bass).

So, little overlap, to say the least.  The godfather knew his way around a hard-nosed strut, so he wasn’t going to meander to his point; if anything, he’ll fill out ten minutes with the same hot-blooded groove.  He and his band will beat you into submission…kinda like the muscle-and-bones analogy, as if “Popcorn” were in the ring against “Collapsing”…I see Brown as a middleweight champ confident enough to hit the offensive hard, prowling for the first opening to knock Air France back (wow, this sounds stupid, don’t it?).  So, um, that leaves me to create the metaphor for “Collapsing”—how about picturing a welterweight who knows his way around the ring and has excellent foot work, but still relies on the stealthy bob-and-weave style, emphasizing defense as much as offense.  (Do I even come off as knowing anything about boxing there?  I hope so.)

Well, if you’ve got even a slight idea of what these songs sound like, then maybe I’ve done my job.  Hell, just search out “Collapsing” if you like to squirm in place while getting sweaty, feeling the humidity of bodies piled on the dance floor rise as you all trance-out to a song with less techno pulse and more heart.  Or if you like sampled dialogue from old movies as an integral part to the hook.  Or if you like the idea of “breathless”…you know, if it’s a romantic notion to you: breathless and passionate and clumsy but excited.  That’s Air France.

James Brown needs no introduction, so search “Popcorn” out if you want one of his earliest examples of funk.  He makes particularly good use of his howl, which the horns almost mimic (but in a steadier pattern) with their syncopated call-and-response with, well, themselves (you’ll understand once you hear it—each stab from the horns has an even more decisive answer, as if four dudes were having a friendly argument).

And—I know, I know—odd man out is No Age.  I’ll admit, the other day this came on and I hoped it was from the new Walkmen album.  Theses dudes use reverb in the same way, I guess, so I’m absolved of guilt for confusing the two (I hope…).  The thing is, the guitar loops its chords like Christmas lights, switching from red to green then back again (there are just two chords), with such a saturated glow that you’d expect the Christmas tree to burst into flames.  Also, there are three distinct guitar elements I can make out, which also feels very Walkmen of these dudes (except No Age are younger and punkier, so the extended intro is a red herring; the two guys who make up the band are rarely this stately, unlike the older and more New-York-cool Walkmen).

Still, it’s an apt comparison because—as I said—the guitar part (it’s just one dude on guitar, though they probably overdub) must use pedals to create the cloud of reverb that thrusts the melody along, while you can also hear the clearer strums that merely buzz along.  The last element to this string of Christmas lights is, well, let’s say the filament that makes the glow distinct: I hear the actual strings, their metallic clanging, low in the mix (it could even be an acoustic guitar, for all I know).  The sound of it gets swallowed up once the tambourine enters around the half-minute mark, but you get the idea; these guys offer an organic-sounding chaser to the harsher edges of their punk rock (and it is certainly equals parts of each).  So, they play with expectations, as the acoustic guitar really does pick up into a jaunty strum (just two bouncing chords, remember…) until—at the 1:27 mark—they drop the pretense and pummel out a dirty jam with snot-nosed vocals. 

Really, there’s a lot there in terms of texture if you want to scope it out.  Otherwise, it’s just a fun song…with, I don’t know, the same type of strut as James Brown (I had to try to connect things; sorry if it’s forced).