Thanks to everyone for making the first day of the new site a good one. It’s strange to see how many people are still finding the old site (at nearly a 3 to 1 clip), but I certainly can’t expect the traffic to immediately match the old site just yet.
I’m getting back into my 1000 Minutes mode, and it’s strange to see how even time of day affects what I want to write about. I wrote about these two songs at two dissimilar times, and probably wouldn’t have written about the other at the same time as its pair here. Music is such a fickle mistress. Let’s get on with it:
This is the second time that I’ve brought up the Great Expectations soundtrack in my 1000 Minutes list – but this song, despite the fact that it was written specifically for the film, doesn’t remind me of it at all. Describing a relationship that’s far from perfect – and that is probably somewhat destructive – the track has a woozy feeling to it. It starts out easily enough, with the narrator dreamily welcoming the song’s muse, and builds into swirly, driving perfection. Despite the acknowledgement of the narrator that relationship with the other person is damaging, the listener can almost hear the smile as he sings:
You are the last drink I never should have drunk, you are the body hidden in the trunk, you are the habit I can’t seem to quit…
Sometimes those type of relationships are exactly what we need, despite the fact that they’ll never last – not unlike the song – which burns out all too quickly.
I’ve never been a pot smoker; I can probably count on two hands the amount of times that I’ve been high, and each time I’ve been high, I’ve been nothing but paranoid. And since that’s been my only reaction, it’s probably best that I stay away. With that said, it’s obvious that I can’t identify with Mike Skinner’s tales of drug-hazed city life, and even less so because of his marked accent.
But when I heard Original Pirate Material, it was a revelation. Thick with London grime, places and people I had no idea even existed, Skinner’s debut was a staple of late 2002. Nothing I’ve heard from him since has been nearly as compelling, but the ferocity of his self-referential first appearance will always draw me in. “Has It Come To This?” is most easily listened to on its own, and it still sounds fresh some 8 years on.