We've Only Just Begun

The Carpenters

How can a song that sounds so sweet be so sad at the same time? Is "We've Only Just Begun" sad because Karen Carpenter suffered an untimely death in the hands of anorexia? Because her voice so capably communicates depth of feeling?

Before the rising sun we fly
So many roads to choose
We start our walking
And learn to run

Or is it because in the beginning of something especially dear, there's the anticipation that one day, like our lives, it will slip through our fingers, it will pass like a golden summer, remembered best as the leaves fall.

I played this song in my car yesterday night; a couple of my best friends are leaving town this weekend, headed for brilliant new adventures-- and gainful employment-- on Whidbey Island. I'm thrilled for them, but the lump lodged at the back of my throat would like me to peer into the future and find out how long it will be before our paths converge again. It's hard to watch them leave Eugene, because even though we are still in the beginning years of knowing and caring about each other, the absence is keen.

And when the evening comes we smile
So much of life ahead
We'll find a place where there's room to grow
(And yes, we've just begun)

Love you, friends. Looking forward to more times together, in our place and yours.

Take Me Over

I <3 Dan Whitford.

"Take Me Over" starts like  a summer morning, sun shining through the blinds, a few moments of stretching, and a roll out of bed. This song is ready for adventure.

Take me over, now take me out

Give me something to dream about

It's a song for the  stubbornly optimistic amongst us (with a guitar a nod to Fleetwood Mac and Lindsey Buckingham), a song about following your dreams when everyone else might think you're crazy.

Do you hear the voice inside your head,
Whispering to live your dreams instead,
Some people cling to what they know,
But I woke up now it's time to go.

When I first heard this song back in November, I reverted into a teenager and had to get all the lyrics written out right away so I could sing along. I listened to "Take Me Over" on my computer, in the stereo, the car, my classroom...I just couldn't get enough. It put a bounce in my step and a wiggle in my caboose.

Cut // Copy, thanks for the reminder that I don't ever want to be lolled into "settling" for less than my dreams...and for reinforcing my idealism to get me "through the jungle, through the night, to paradise." Yeah for summertime and sunshine!

It's the second track (but they are all good) :)

Cut Copy - Zonoscope by modularpeople

I Can Hear Music

I can hear music
Sweet sweet music

All three of the Wilson brothers were talented singers and musicians; Brian had that great falsetto, Dennis the husky, textured voice, and Carl-- the perfect-pitched choir boy-- a voice almost painful at times in its sweetness.

"I Can Hear Music," from the album 20/20 (notable for the inclusion of the Smile session tunes "Cabinessence" and "Our Prayer") was Carl's first go at being the leader of The Beach Boys in his oldest brother's absence. While 20/20 is an odd, transitional album (check it out at allmusic.com), it contains gems.

The attractiveness of "I Can Hear Music" --a song one Mr. Spector was involved in writing, and which was originally recorded by The Ronettes-- is largely due to Carl's singing and production of the track. Other versions of the song are just not as compelling. The Beach Boys' version has a wall of sound feel at the beginning, with sleigh-bells, drums, and the guys' harmonies filling up the track. Layer Carl's soulful vocal over that, and it's two and a half minutes of perfection.  A romantic song, originally sung from a woman's point-of-view, is totally believable in Carl's hands. "I Can Hear Music" is a song that makes being able to hit the repeat button immensely satisfying.

Loving you, it keeps me satisfied

...

the sound of the city seems to disappear

Black Hearted Love

 

One of the things I appreciate most about the John Parish/PJ Harvey collaboration is their willingness to explore a wide range of material both lyrically and sonically. The last collaboration, A Woman a Man Walked By, contains ballads and punk. The whole album is fantastic. Even several years after its release, when the first track "Black Hearted Love" comes on (and it often does), I cannot turn it off or skip it.

At the outset, "Black Hearted Love" feels like something that can't be contained, a flood bursting an embankment, an explosion of guitar following the eight beat, closed hi-hat intro. The song dips down into something more dubious a few bars before PJ begins singing, the guitar mimicking, shadowing portions of the vocal. It's almost like the character in the song is having this relationship she sings about with the guitar (as representative of the man). The insistent, scratchy guitar emerges every time she begins addressing the namesake of the song, and it's the last thing you can hear as the song fades out at the end.

The eeriness of the song, the way it pulls the listener in, is well represented in the official video; the colorful bouncy house shining brightly in the dark, damp woods, lightning flashing ominously at every side. There is something strange and twisted at work and the camera just can't stay away. On the other hand, maybe the singer was drawn in the same way the camera was, magnetized by a man who's gonna do nothing but rain on her and put her in danger-- exploding light bulbs and all-- until she's alone in the dark. 

Still, it's her choice, she knows the game she's playing.

For you are my black hearted love...

In the rain

In the evening
I will come again