I ♥ The City

First of all, sorry about recent sporadic posts. Working full time now does give me a lot less time but the plan/hope is to write at least one thing for somewhere every weekday, be it here, Delete As Appropriate or the Jukebox, so there shouldn't be gaps longer than a few days.


"I ♥ The City" occupies somwhat of a halfway house between sincerity and satire. Its bounding energy, punctuated by eager bursts of wailing harmonica, lends it the character of someone excitedly holding forth on a favourite subject, and it begins with (albeit sort of denied) boasts about the superiority of city dwellers. The chorus, though, is lyrically nothing but poking fun at the same:

'Many people like open space,
But give me a perfumed alleyway,
Give me crowds and give me buildings,
Give me rotting vegetation,
Give me concrete give me ceilings,
Give me overpopulation,
I love the city'

I can't think of that last line as sarcasm though. The earlier throwaway that 'You've got to love it anyway' is probably key - this really is love, but it's love out of obligation rather than any kind of thought process. You can see all of the city's faults but you love it because, well, it's home, and you can't imagine being anywhere else even when breathing in pollution or pinned to the wall of the tube by a mass of commuters. I hope, given the band's roots, that I'm not just projecting when I assume that we are both talking about London here, and even though I didn't grow up here I can still relate to the feeling a lot. Perhaps that's why the sometimes clunky lyrics and its being one of the weaker tracks on Luxembourg musically don't stop me from really enjoying the song.

Code Blue

I'm waiting for a mission,
Face me in the right direction,
I'm full of good intentions.

I don't know what exactly the instrument is that makes the amazing noise in "Code Blue". The album booklet just has Paul Beard on 'keyboards' so that will have to do. I am thinking some kind of analogue synth. This review says Hammond, but then it also calls me a Ben Sherman wearing piss-thrower, so I'll choose to question that. Anyway, it's this incredible forceful but slightly rusty sounding thing, and it sounds like a repeated wobbly fanfare throughout. It helps make this one easily of the strongest moments on Luxembourg musically, and is a perfect fit for the clockwork soldier conjured by the chorus.

It's a shame that the anti-war strawmanning and satire of the verses doesn't match up nearly as well. I sort of get what they were going for. The warmongering wannabe president isn't exactly original but works. However, even the strongest pacifist has to see attacking the guys actually fighting the wars as being clueless as the wrong tack to take. The noises deserve better.


An aside: 'Keep the commies out of W3 for HRH and Uncle Sam' had me confused for a long while, thinking that it was some odd shortening of World War 3. I recently realised though that they probably mean Acton.

Liquid Lips

'If this album had been made by The Strokes or another of the current Flavour of the Month bands, the critics would be raving about it.'
BBC Shropshire

Luxembourg, the first album released after The Bluetones' departure from major label land, gets compared to The Strokes a lot. I've done so myself. Often it's in somewhat misguided lines like the one above, which make for very nice wishful thinking but are probably not true.

"Liquid Lips" as as close as they come. Weirdly, the one Strokes song that it most closely resembles is "Juicebox", released two years later. Give or take a note, the exact same bassline snakes through it and similarly completely dominates the song. The staccato guitar is tightly wound around it, and even when allowed a solo Adam Devlin just adds some fuzz to the same progression. They don't pull off quite such a full sound as "Juicebox", but the kinetic effect is very similar. The WHOMP, WHOMP of drums in the intro go one better, even.

But then there's Mark Morriss. He's one of my favourite singers, right up there with Guy Garvey and some other people without alliterative names. He's great. I don't tend to think about him as much, normally, because the main reason is that he's endlessly, incredibly easy to listen to. Which doesn't sound much until I try to think of anyone else that has the same ability to never get in the way, never even slightly grate and twist the emotions with the tinyest of changes, and there is no one. Anyway, the point that I was going to get to is that this doesn't apply to "Liquid Lips". I notice him, every time, because he doesn't fit. It's an angry song, the calling out of a 'backstabber, money grabber' who has somehow fooled everyone else. Its lyrics are a little ropey but could potentially have worked as the rantings of someone too angry to think of anything better and just starting to throw whatever comes into his head ('Liquid lips baby you would stink on ice'?). They don't though, because he fusses over every word, overemphasising a lot and seeming to double guess what will work best rather than being as effortlessly natural as normal. He even sounds a little thin and reedy for the first time ever and also gives the exact opposite of Julian Casablancas' phoned in drawl, funnily enough.
I know that it contradicts my last entry to some extent, but this is evidence that trying to change sound away from your strengths isn't always the best move.

Despite those misgivings, "Liquid Lips" is still a much more enjoyable attempt at owning a new, harder sound than the actual A-side of the 'double A-side' that trailed Luxembourg. We'll get onto that at some point in future, though.


(No entry tomorrow I'm afraid as I'm off to Muse at Wembley. Working, rather than watching.)