Brian Wall (bwall05)

“Walking with Thee” – Clinic (Words/music: Clinic, available on Walking with Thee, Domino 2002) I go long stretches of time in between listens to Clinic, but when I hear a song like “Walking with Thee,” I feel like I still know every twist and turn.  It’s not that it’s a predictable song; instead, I spent a lot of time learning these songs passively by listening to it repeatedly.  Every play, whether putting the “Walking with Thee” single on my record player, putting the album on, or letting the songs pass through on shuffle, offered another opportunity to commit another part of the song to those deep recesses of memory where things like this lie in deep storage until needed.  I probably go weeks without actively thinking about a band like Clinic, but as soon as the song starts, it’s like those neurons in my brain immediately know where to find the case file, carefully built up over years of sporadic listens.As a song, “Walking with Thee” feels like a time capsule not only because it comes right back when I hear it, but also because it feels like it belongs in another era.  It sounds like a distorted modern take on the late 1960s garage rock genre.  The lead organ riff could fit in on the Nuggets compilation if they played it on vintage equipment.  The arrangement stays simple, riding this superb riff and a fairly simple, repetitive lyric, gently shifting from segment to segment.  On one level, this sounds like something the kids down the street could play.  However, just like the first wave of garage rock, some intangible separates songs like this from the amateurs.  In this case, it’s a general sense of uncertainty that haunts the song.  No single element points at it, but I feel a minor sense of dread in the deepest part of the song.  Perhaps from listening to other Clinic songs, it’s a weird feeling of paranoia that something else lies in the song.  Regardless, it’s this deviation from the more carefree garage rock of the 1960s that distinguishes “Walking with Thee” from its predecessors.
More on Clinic: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

“Five Step” – Radiohead’s “15 Step” vs. Dave Brubeck Quartet’s “Take Five” (via Some Velvet Blog)
This is pretty cool, I have to say.

“If I Can’t Change Your Mind” – Sugar (Words/music: Bob Mould, available on Copper Blue, Rykodisc 1992)
I’m a dope – this was meant for Some Songs Considered and I had the wrong tumblr selected.  Oops! So it’s both here and there, since there’s no sense in deleting this post.
Popular culture – music included – provides an opportunity for escapism.  We don’t always consider that with music, though; instead, we focus on connecting to lyrics or emotions in songs – on having music to comfort us or celebrate or anything in between.  Occasionally, we consider music as a mood adjuster – something that helps to change our mood, motivate us, or drown out something undesirable.   Maybe because I’ve always had an overactive imagination (and that I’ve watched enough movies in my lifetime), but I often spend wandering moments playing out alternate scenarios in my mind.  It’s sort of like spontaneous short story writing – it begins with a “what if” question and then I play out one or more of the possible outcomes in my mind.  I never think of it actively, but these daydreams often have a soundtrack.Anyway, I remember having a very vivid sequence one time where I turned “If I Can’t Change Your Mind” upside down.  In Sugar’s incredibly catchy version, Bob Mould offers a plea to make a lover stay immediately after a breakup.  Whether I was sucked in by the bright guitar and up-beat tempo, my daydream involved using “If I Can’t Change Your Mind” as a method of persuasion; someone using it to help woo over a reluctant love interest.  I’m not even clear on the details (and I’m not sure I was at the time, either) – whether it was someone who was hurt previously and unwilling to be vulnerable again or whatever – but nonetheless it was the soundtrack to this strangely vivid out-of-context scene in my head that’s stuck with me.  Maybe I imagined the song as a dialogue – the part about being heartbroken and teary was one person and the other replying “if I can’t change your mind, who will?”  Maybe in my head romantic comedies expand their soundtrack past the half dozen stock songs that end up in every movie and I wanted to give Bob Mould one of those sweet royalty checks.  Probably, though, it was a bit of wishful thinking – we all want to be the kind of person to win each other over, and in both scenarios (the song and this imaginary sequence), the protagonist has a longing to be important and persuasive to a specific person.  I’d like to think that my subconscious honed in on this shared idea and made the connection between the real song and the imagined scenario.  Maybe I’ve just watched too many movies where music carries this sort of charged emotional persuasion (Say Anything and High Fidelity off the top of my head) that I immediately targeted that part of the song – since it’s so melodically convincing, it must be emotionally as well.
More on Sugar: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

“If I Can’t Change Your Mind” – Sugar (Words/music: Bob Mould, available on Copper Blue, Rykodisc 1992)
(Note: Thank you to thisistheglamorous (who you should read/follow because he is hilarious and a wonderful read) for reblogging this. I accidentally posted tonight’s post to my personal tumblr and Tumblr won’t let you reblog yourself. Anyway, here’s the original post)Popular culture – music included – provides an opportunity for escapism. We don’t always consider that with music, though; instead, we focus on connecting to lyrics or emotions in songs – on having music to comfort us or celebrate or anything in between. Occasionally, we consider music as a mood adjuster – something that helps to change our mood, motivate us, or drown out something undesirable. Maybe because I’ve always had an overactive imagination (and that I’ve watched enough movies in my lifetime), but I often spend wandering moments playing out alternate scenarios in my mind. It’s sort of like spontaneous short story writing – it begins with a “what if” question and then I play out one or more of the possible outcomes in my mind. I never think of it actively, but these daydreams often have a soundtrack.Anyway, I remember having a very vivid sequence one time where I turned “If I Can’t Change Your Mind” upside down. In Sugar’s incredibly catchy version, Bob Mould offers a plea to make a lover stay immediately after a breakup. Whether I was sucked in by the bright guitar and up-beat tempo, my daydream involved using “If I Can’t Change Your Mind” as a method of persuasion; someone using it to help woo over a reluctant love interest. I’m not even clear on the details (and I’m not sure I was at the time, either) – whether it was someone who was hurt previously and unwilling to be vulnerable again or whatever – but nonetheless it was the soundtrack to this strangely vivid out-of-context scene in my head that’s stuck with me. Maybe I imagined the song as a dialogue – the part about being heartbroken and teary was one person and the other replying “if I can’t change your mind, who will?” Maybe in my head romantic comedies expand their soundtrack past the half dozen stock songs that end up in every movie and I wanted to give Bob Mould one of those sweet royalty checks. Probably, though, it was a bit of wishful thinking – we all want to be the kind of person to win each other over, and in both scenarios (the song and this imaginary sequence), the protagonist has a longing to be important and persuasive to a specific person. I’d like to think that my subconscious honed in on this shared idea and made the connection between the real song and the imagined scenario. Maybe I’ve just watched too many movies where music carries this sort of charged emotional persuasion (Say Anything and High Fidelity off the top of my head) that I immediately targeted that part of the song – since it’s so melodically convincing, it must be emotionally as well.
More on Sugar: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

This is the Glamorous: Thank you for (accidentally) helping me out by reblogging my Sugar post.  It was meant for my other tumblr but I aparently ignored the little “post to:” box in the top right corner tonight.
Anyway, welcome back to tumblr – I remember you from your previous blog and I’ve been enjoying your posts, in particular the “…Saves the Internet” ones.  Thanks again!

Mythbusters’ Adam Savage discussing his completely ridiculous attention to detail, learning to sculpt a dodo bird, and trying to achieve a perfect replica of the Maltese Falcon.
I really hope I can experience this type of enthusiasm for something in my life.