Singing Without Lyrics, or At Least That's What it Sounds Like

I often feel like I don't listen enough to the words. When I take in a song, I absorb its melodies, its textures, and its structure. It's just what my ears/brain naturally do. This is probably the reason I ended up help creating and hosting an instrumental radio show for 4+ years on the local college station in town. At the age of 20 when I had discovered modern instrumental post-rock, ambient, neo-classical, and bedroom electronic music, I didn't understand why any of it wasn't as popular as the trendy indie rock bands of the time, who I also appreciated, but trust me, not because I thought they were all brilliant poets. Some of them were, for sure, and those ones I loved even more, but I was often too busy investing my time in the instrumentation and orchestration of the songs I loved, not the lyrical content thereof. Having grown as a music lover in this particular way, I have recently delved into a certain type of song that I hope satisfies those who enjoy (need?) vocals in their music, but can take a second to appreciate the atmospheres and pure ecstasy of patterned sounds. Here are my ten favorite songs (right now) that feature vocals, but no discernible (to my ears, anyway) lyrics. Enjoy.



First we start with the song that inspired this post, which I listened to today when I suddenly had an urge to hear something a little crazy, a little serene, but something neither calmly instrumental nor aggravatingly poppy. "Goth Star" by Pictureplane was the answer to my strange desire. I don't know anything about this artist, but I happened to grab the track earlier this year and while I merely mildly enjoyed it at first, now I could keep listening to it on repeat for the rest of the night without complaint. The vocals cut in and out like a jittery trance song, but it's all looped too blissfully steadily for it too come off as annoying or forced. Likewise, "Sugarette" by Bibio is a piece that's fragmented in its hip hop beats and bleeps, but also manages to waft breezily through the headphones, never sitting still, but also never inducing a headache. Chipmunk pitch-shifted vocals teeter in the background and pulse forward on the beat intermittently, but what he's saying, no one knows, and the song's all the better because of it.

The gorgeous electronic chaos of tracks like these dips its toes into shoegaze with "Nights in Kiev" by Port-Royal, where cut-up glitch is covered up with a sheen of washed-out antarctic synths. Heavily reverbed whispers lilt in and out throughout, but the stars of the show are the careening plasticine melodies that don't duel so much as frolic. It sounds sad, but the notes soar and climax with such hope and longing that it feels revitalizing to hear. In "Clear Skies Above the Coastline Cathedral" by Manual, another epic dream-pop track, the voices are even more subtle (but somehow covering both lows, mids, and highs of the song), just peeking slightly out over the grand canyon electro beat and contemplative guitar swells. And as those acoustic/electric guitars sprinkle into each other more and more as the song progresses, with every riff becoming more and more magical...wow. It's so exhausting and uplifting to listen to, I feel like I need to pause for a minute before I do anything after the song ends. Good thing it's over eight minutes long, otherwise it would just feel like a tease. On the other end of the shoegaze spectrum is "Ashes Maths" by A Sunny Day in Glasgow, in which the vocals are incredibly overpowering, but so heavily processed and elliptical that you can't tell which end's up or how the hell these loops were even created. It's magnanimous and ominous, but just as gut-wrenchingly beautiful as anything else on the list.

Ululations from the larynx are also quite prevalent on "Leyendecker" by Battles, which starts stepping even further into rock territory, but also remains firmly in the electronic camp as well, with its precise keyboard tinkling and angular drum patterns. I suppose the same pitch-shifting that Bibio used in the aforementioned song is going on here, but it sounds less forest animal and more dungeon gremlin, which makes this track sound creepy (it is), but it's also downright fierce and pristine, making it indelibly delicious. Similarly, "The Devil Bends" by The Dead Sea gets a little mean, but this time moving things more in the gritty and ramshackle direction. The reversed and affected lyrics make almost every word save "devil" unrecognizable, and it completely makes the song in this instance. Most of these tracks get their strength from their layered instrumental complexities, but The Dead Sea instead deliver a prodigiously straightforward guitar and drums track with wispy and wandering vocals sprayed atop to sculpt a soundscape that is uniquely frustrated in two distinct ways. And the combination is what makes it so satisfying.

Things start getting even more minimal and ghostly with "Glory Gongs" by Forest Swords, which sounds to me, by all accounts, like a blues song. Sure the only evidences of this are its wilting guitar licks and quietly aching lumbering percussion, but what else do you need? How about two somber but pleading vocal riffs that sound like they're recorded and played back on warped vinyl through a phonograph, and repeated whenever there's an open space for hurt to be heard. And of course what would hurting be without a little bit of screaming? "Sweet Love For Planet Earth" by Fuck Buttons proves the UK duo to be the masters of melding together dense mosaics of fuzz and brightness, muddy noise and effervescent minutae, throaty scuzz and lullaby ambience. If that sounds effed up beyond comprehension to you, that's because it is. The story and/or mental process behind how they came up with this aesthetic is either terrifying and/or unexplainable, and thus, we shan't hypothesize here. Just listen to believe it. Yells from the belly and the bowels of hell are also used with finesse and aplomb in our final track for the playlist, "Aves" by Gifts From Enola. Like the penultimate, this one takes its sweet time to get to the meat of it all, but it's well worth it. It's a prime example of post-rock done right: just enough pretentiousness to make it ethereally cryptic and epic, but enough accessibly rocking sequences to make it alternate between wondering you with its elegance and gutting you like a fish. And when those bellowing snarls rise up from under the raucousness and the WTF tapping guitar and insane drum rolls come pouring throuhg, it's like you've won an aural lottery, my friends.

And it just keeps getting better if you keep exploring more artists that specialize in this kind of unique song, such as Holy Fuck, WZT Hearts, Julianna Barwick, and Irepress. Surely there's others out there too, and I wanna know about 'em! Share, please!

Bread sucks. I love cheese. What?

My Favorite Middle Eights

I've written a few songs in my day. Songwriting isn't easy. I've learned, though--both from my brief foray into composition and from my lifelong obsession with pop music--that the biggest challenge in writing a great song isn't the intro or the ending; great intros and endings are a dime a dozen. The real challenge is in writing the perfect Middle Eight.

What is the middle eight, you ask? In the most basic thirty-two bar pop songs, the middle eight is that part that's neither verse nor chorus; it's often referred to as the bridge, as well. It deviates from the structure of the verse-chorus progression, often changing key and/or shifting into minor and seventh chords. In many modern pop-rock songs, it also serves as a transitory section into an instrumental or solo. And when it's done right, it can turn a good song into a pop masterpiece.

My appreciation for this particular aspect of pop music was imbued in me by my father; a great middle-eight, he always said, should be your favorite part of a song. A great middle-eight could help a song pass his ultimate test of pop excellence: it would give him goosebumps. The perfect minor chord progression under a catchy melody and killer harmony, leading into a sustained vocal peak--it often feels like a tiny little song unto itself before moving seamlessly back into the main theme. Dad raised me on The Beatles, so they are, of course, his standard for all pop songwriting (as they should be). We'll begin our playlist, then, with my very favorite Beatles middle eight: "We Can Work It Out" (0:37 & 1:22)*. This middle-eight is the perfect illustration of what I described a few sentences ago; it's also the most memorable part of the song.

*Times shown represent the start of the middle-eight in each song.

Turning to more modern music, the middle-eight that has always blown us both (Dad and I, that is) away is from Fastball's "Warm Fuzzy Feeling" (0:54). This song, I believe, should be taught as a clinic on pop songwriting: the first verse hooks you in, the second takes it up a notch with harmony and the background vocals, the middle-eight takes twenty-two seconds to blow your mind, and the final verse cools you down, kicks you in the face with a minor-chord ending, and leaves you breathless, all in less than two minutes. Rinse, repeat. Lester Bangs would be proud.

A similarly structured--albeit longer--song, is Panic at the Disco's "When the Day Met the Night" (2:22). The dynamics of the verse-chorus change in this song, the veiled, calm beauty of the verse contrasted with the bright and sunny chorus (sorry, I know that's punny) is just excellent, but the vocal harmony and the strings in the middle-eight really put it over the top for me. The high note and even higher harmony that ends the bridge of "Fallen Leaves" (2:05), from Billy Talent, is a soaring end to its staccato-based minor section, and the "la-la-la-la" background of Head Automatica's "Scandalous" (2:34) creates a standout on an aptly-named record (Popaganda) full of nearly flawless power-pop. Like "Fallen Leaves," the high note that peaks the middle-eight in Gavin DeGraw's excellent "Chariot" (2:08) makes me want to fly, indeed. In slightly heavier territory (and in better days for this band), the middle-eight of "Earthquake" (1:47) by The Used is the most powerful moment of a spectacular rock ballad, as Bert begs: "have I murdered our love?"

I'll almost certainly be slammed for admitting this, but I really like Matchbox Twenty. Please don't take this to mean that I like Rob Thomas; Rob Thomas is a tool, and his solo music is balls. But what began as a catchy but typical 90's band became a power-pop powerhouse with Mad Season and More Than You Think You Are. The middle-eight from "All I Need" (2:16)--a song already full of perfectly-placed minor and seventh chords--has been a favorite of mine for years for the way it pulls the song into the guitar solo.

Back to less embarrassing entries: House of Heroes is one of the most criminally under-appreciated power-pop/rock bands operating today; their The End is Not The End is a nearly perfect combination of pop hooks, concept themes and impressive musicianship. It's tough not to sing along as the middle-eight of "Leave You Now" (1:22) finishes, falsetto-style, with "the only ending that is fitting is you and me, baby." Another of my less-appreciated stand-bys (and one that actually has been mentioned 'round these parts before) is Great Big Sea. "When I Am King" (1:12) is just so unapologetic in its optimism, you can't help but smile through the cheese of it all. From GBS' fellow Canadians The Waking Eyes, the bluesy "Wolves at the Door" (1:55) leads into a slide-guitar solo with an anthemic bridge that bursts with energy. Fountains of Wayne have been perhaps the most reliable Beatles-inspired power-pop band of the last decade; from their latest record, "Yolanda Hayes" (2:00) throws background vocals, a killer ending-harmony and a great horn section together for its bridge. "Sense of Henry" (3:12) has been a favorite song, solo and favorite middle-eight since I discovered I Mother Earth back in high school; it's not exactly pop, but this bridge is still the best part of the song.

Finally, I'll end with the fast, furious, thoroughly unkind and yet irresistible "She Was Dead" (1:27) from SR-71, the always-overlooked and consistently good rock band who wrote and recorded the original (and one-hundred percent better) version of "1985," which unfortunately propelled Bowling for Soup to stardom.

Remember, folks: the bread of the song sandwich--the intro and end--are the easy parts. The verse/chorus are certainly the meat, giving the whole concoction its volume. The middle-eight, then, I guess would be the cheese; you don't need it, but it sure makes the sandwich better. I'm not sure what I'm talking about anymore, but I do know that I love cheese. Love it.

As always, please weigh in with your own favorites, criticisms and/or insults.

music for when things fall apart

so, we're having a collective "one of those weeks" around these parts. everyone's a little overwhelmed, a little exhausted, a little fried.
because sometimes, things don't work out.
for those times, this is some of the music i turn to (provided, of course, that my ipod continues working, since that seems extremely questionable given its little performance this morning in which the click wheel has stopped working. sigh.)

social distortion - story of my life
charlotte martin - haunted (no decent videos on that, sorry.)
the police - the bed's too big without you
imogen heap - sweet religion
social distortion - don't take me for granted
the darkness - givin' up
the bad plus - iron man
bad religion - sorrow
johnny cash - the man comes around
and (this is so embarrassing, but honestly, it's true. i have no cred.)
u2 - stuck in a moment

who do you turn to, musically, when things just effing suck? what gets you through? please tell me there's something!
(i'd have more opinions and songs, but i'll be honest: i haven't escaped the "things kind of suck" stick. so you're getting a list of songs that i've lumped into a "get through this" play list.)

Life in a Semi

Hello, Gentle Readers. It's been so long; I am glad to see you again.

Actually, it seems like a lot longer for me than it may for you, since my last couple of posts have been 'in the can,' as the say, since the end of August. Fashion Week happened between then and now, and that pretty much disrupts everything else. And when I say 'disrupts,' I mean 'completely obliterates.' I have this joke with some of the people I work with that my year only has 48 weeks; the 4 weeks that get lost by doing Fall and Spring Fashion exist outside of the normal flow of time and space, like Festival Days in olden tymes.

What, you may ask, does this have to do with music? Why, nothing, actually, and I ought to stop talking about it now. I bring it up only to ask your forgiveness if this post seems awkward; it's been a while since I had to write anything coherent. So- enough about me darling; what do you think of my dress?

Like everyone else here, I imagine, I like a good playlist. One of the things I do to entertain myself is to take a subject and then build a list around it. I know, hardly a revolutionary concept. But it has exposed me to music and bands I might otherwise never have heard of. Because once you get a really good concept going, who wants to stop at the bounds of music they already have? Not I, certainly. I mean, what fun would that be?

One of my all time favorites is built around the theme of driving a semi. At first gloss, you might think that this would be dreadfully boring. Probably you have all heard some of the classic truck drivin' songs, and you're thinking, 'How much variation can there be?' When I started this particular little quest, the only songs on the list that I had were Six Days On The Road by Lee Conway, Give Me Forty Acres to Turn This Rig Around by The Willis Brothers, and Truck Drivin' Man by Jimmy Martin. All classics, to be sure, but also all cut from similar cloth, style wise. So I was sort of thinking the same thing- how much variation will there really be? I was pleasantly and thoroughly surprised, not only by the variation, but by the endurance of the truck drivin' theme. Take a look at the list- just the titles should give you an idea of how varied a treatment this subject has gotten.

Girl on the Billboard by Del Reeves
Six Days On The Road by Lee Conway
Truck Drivin' Queen by Moore & Napier
Keep On Truckin' by Hot Tuna
Truck Drivin' Man by Jimmy Martin
I Took Three Bennies & My Semi Truck Won't Start by Commander Cody And The Lost Planet Airmen
Mexican Vampire Truck Drivin' Girl by Jasper Stone
Give Me Forty Acres to Turn This Rig Around by The Willis Brothers
Drug Store Truck Driving Man by The Coal Porters
Eighteen Wheels On A Big Rig by Ralph's World
Overloaded Diesel by Jimmy Griggs
White Line Fever by The Flying Burrito Brothers
Big Rig Blues (Long One) by The Cowslingers

The sub-themes (that is, besides truck driving) of those songs encompass, in no particular order, obsession, exhaustion, racism, faithfulness, adultery, humor, irony, the supernatural, incompetence, drug abuse, the capricious nature of machines, loneliness, math and numbers, the chase, the escape, delusion, and endurance. If I could have found video clips for all of them, I would have posted them here, and damn concerns of an obnoxiously long post! But, as it is, I have only a few choice examples for you.

Give Me Forty Acres to Turn This Rig Around :: The Willis Brothers


Forty Acres is, of course, a classic, and deservedly so. I think anyone who has ever tried to drive even a U-Haul can appreciate how hard it must be to handle 53' of tractor and trailer, and the sense of humor in this song makes it deserving of a listen in any case.

Girl on the Billboard :: Del Reeves


Who among us has never obsessed over what is out of their reach? This is another one with humor and, I think, universal appeal.

I Took Three Bennies, and Now My Semi Truck Won't Start :: Bill Kirchen, formerly of Commander Cody and the Lost Planet Airmen


Can you think of anything sadder than being hopped up on speed so that you can drive all night, only to have your truck break down? It is truly Shakespearean in scope. Or something.

18 Wheels on a Big Rig :: Ralph's World


I don't want to spoil this one, so you should just listen to it; but I think it is the best of the bunch, if only by virtue of its sheer cleverness. Oh, and it's a kid's song...