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Issue #61 Apr. '04 Pop. Pop music. Some of the
most distinguishing/integral parts being the harmonies (be they 2, 3,
or 4
part), the hooks (be they guitars, bass, keyboards, drums or even
harmonious
vocals), and lyrics that dig into your head, so that at any given
moment during
your day you find them rambling through your brain to the point where
you can
even hear each instrument that accompanies the words right into the
trading of
leads… back and forth it rings true to the point where it
invites happiness
into the soul… That to me is pop. I listened to, and listened
to THIS IS GRAND by analog
radio, and damn, THIS IS POP. analog
radio knows how to create
structural pop by tearing at the fabric of today’s rock
musical culture and its
boundaries, to expose the true fabric (the roots of which changed the
history
of music), much of which is lacking in today’s Pop(ular)
music. analog radio gets down into
the same
Bubblegum sound of early It takes balls to cite The
Monkees (a fine band when you realize the talent that wrote the
majority of
their repertoire) as an influence, along with The Beach Boys, Marshall
Crenshaw, Sloan, and Fountains Of Wayne, and be right about it
– and to those
I’ll add Gerry and The Pacemakers, The Cars, The Beatles, Tom
Petty (1st
two LPs), all those Brill Building writers that virtuously created AM
radio
long before FM wandered in and took over (and destroyed – to
an extent), and
too many to mention of the 60’s psychedelic/garage bands that
you’ll find on
the Nuggets box set(s). analog radio
comes to us from The spirograph cover reveals
that era here from both perspectives; that of the times and the witty
banter
short story 3 minute mini-movie usually centering on the love escapades
of a
man and woman (but also something as bizarre as reading an
instructional manual
to whatever an item may or may not be) ruled the airwaves. After a
jaunty,
chewy entrance that harkens us back to the heyday of The Monkees with a
dancing
prancing piano and Oooh’s and Ahhhhs of the backing harmony
set alongside
various components of the musical composition, we’re
intrigued through the
promise of something that can take us away, and guess what? “Read
The Manual” jumps us with an acapella
“Whoo, La, La, La, Whoo La La La,
Whooooooooooooooooo…” Hold the
organ (and it’s a classic, jam down on the dashboard keys as
the “straight from
air guitar central” guitar hooks lead those bass fingers into
working away
while the drummer in the back seat augments everything with an energy
that’s as
anthemic as if you are indeed A Go-Go-ing…), and find
yourself singing along
with such twisted everyday fare as “Before
you try to make it work / You’re gonna have to read the
manual / That’s what
the label said / Contents under pressure / We can’t be held
responsible / If
you should wind up dead.” Thus begins one of the
most straight forward
criticisms of corporate responsibility in the sales industry and does
it in a
hip-swaying, let’s have a party style. THIS IS POP. The jangle, and dirty garage
roots of “Don’t
Be Dumb” serve as a reminder of the first
early rebirth
of Pop - when it was reborn in the 60s as the under ground garage
culture, before
once again aspiring to mainstream, just to die and be reborn again in
each
subsequent form over the generations (and I do believe this cycle is
being
resurrected, and it seems a lot of it is emanating out of the Chicago
area). “A
Love
Letter with Problems” tilts to the darker
side of The Lovin’ Spoonful.
The vocals and keyboards lend themselves to the song in an impeccable
structure
of writing brilliance – Mod mock English (stated as a high
compliment) vocals
nod at Alt. Country and Beatles ballads to tear at our heart as the
narrator
lays out his woe with a final despite plea so commonly found in young
love. “Let’s get together
and be lonely / The bad
times won’t be so tough / I’ll never feel like the
only / And you’ll always
feel like enough.” Cue quick-shot-to-the-heart
crying guitar lead set above
a harrowing organ and we’ve just been swallowed whole by analog radio with a lushness that
satisfies deeply. THIS IS GRAND. That’s exactly when analog radio produces one of the
greatest turns on a CD format since the annoying silence of 14 minutes
before
the hidden track (or gibberish) at the end of the CD. It is here, just
4 songs
in, that analog radio decides to
set
the hook so deep that there is no doubt this CD belongs in the
“Classic”
category – “In-between”
snaps the late night, under the sheets AM radio
back to let us scan the dial to a point, that by time we tune in on a
station,
we know we want to be there. “Sometimes Girlfriend”
tells the
tragic tale of two people who do not have anything (not even each
other) except
the sex they’re having – A guy exploiting an all to
eager girl in a poppy
jangley shadow of the 60s British Invasion, and damn –
Where’s Ed Sullivan??? A
video for this song should be shot in grainy black and white. THIS IS
POP. “I’d Answer the Phone (If You
Called)” has to be one of the finest pop
ballads ever written. A pitch
perfect, triple harmony gives the perspective of a guy whose girl dumps
him for
another, with the solemn church (pump?) organ setting a
‘too-many-beers-and-cigarettes
lamenting to a sympathetic ear’ vocal of how he finally stood
up to her – “So yes, I was
lying / When I said / ‘I’ll
see you around’ / But I, really meant it when I said /
‘I Never want to see you
again’ / I never want to see you again / No’.”
By this time the whole
musical sorrow is crashing down upon us, our heart is heavy, we
identify with
his anguish as the music drags us down to where we’ve all
been before... As the
organ steps in front and carries us to a point where his love outweighs
the
pain inflicted upon him by her (but which is revealed to us in a lower
audibility so as to say it, but not really want anybody to hear you
admit it,
but which needs to be uttered aloud so as to convince oneself of it as
well) “So yes, I was lying / When I
said / that ‘I
never loved you’ / But I really mean it / When I say /
‘I’d answer the phone /
if you called / I’d answer the phone / if you called /
Yeah’.” You’ll
hyperventilate and get the chills listening to this because
it’s so depressingly
joyful. THIS IS GRAND. Where do you go after that?
(And after hitting the repeat button so many times you just
don’t know what
could be left?) “Yeah
I Know” lightens the mood with a dipped
in The Cars
flavored Paul Revere and The Raiders/Gerry and The Pacemakers/The Beach
Boys
fun in the sun romp providing Ooo’s that glide quickly into
the harder, dark
and bouncy “Step
Outside Your Door.” This is the
album’s lone “group
effort,” a collaboration that exemplifies the individual
talents and how they
interconnect on every level of songwriting (from melody to lyrics) and
is a
solid accomplishment across the board that analog
radio carries through the final 3 songs. With the same hook
after glorious
hook, dirty edge wall of sound, bombastic (to the point of pleasure),
blissful,
revitalization of early pop – And that to me is pop. THIS IS POP. THIS IS GRAND. THIS IS analog
radio. analog
radio - THIS IS GRAND
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