The first piece I wrote was in response to a playlist created to vent anger to: 'F*** Everything and Get Angry', which acknowledged and discussed a recent release by New York rapper Cage, and was due to be published at the end of January:
As our Tamsyn rightly said within Bring the Noise’s recent
pent-up peevishness playlist, this month has gone down as a bad one; January
has sucked. What a pessimistic way to open this article, but for myself being
portrayed as the egotist, this has held unfortunately true, and I have found
myself feeling miserable, filled to the brim with passive and often volatile
anger. However, with the unveiling of our website’s latest playlist, a song
instantly raced to the forefront of my mind and began tapping away.
Whilst it may not be entirely appropriate to sit alongside
the fast-paced and aggressive natured likes of Limp Bizkit or Slipknot, Cage’s
‘You Were the S*** (In High School)’ is a song that deserves recognition within
this month’s theme, but also the attention of the general public. I can imagine
several faces reading that last sentence in a state of bewilderment, but also conceivably
a select few cheaply smiling and nodding in agreement – for despite being a
part of the hip-hop world for twenty years now, Cage is relatively unknown.
Perhaps the playlist featuring two Glassjaw songs paid
dividends (I did argue that ‘Pretty Lush’ deserved a spot); several years ago a
simple Wikipedia search of icon Daryl Palumbo saw me discover that Palumbo
featured in a song entitled ‘Shoot Frank’ from Cage’s 2005 sophomore record,
Hell’s Winter. Thereafter intrigued, and later intoxicated on his labor, I was hooked
on the works of Chris Palko.
As my addition continued, so did Cage’s curriculum vitae, to
the extent of collaborating with superstar Kid Cudi on his record Man on the
Moon II: The Legend of Mr. Rager (2010), seeing him assist a performance on
America’s Saturday Night Live and learning French to co-star in a ten minute
short horror film to accompany the song, ‘Maniac’, sharing its name - written
by Shea LaBeouf (who also directed and starred in Cage’s own hit ‘I Never Knew
You’); just another member of the Cardboard City artist circle he is a part of.
The now close friend of Marilyn Manson even once having a
feud with the then up-and-coming rapper Eminem in the late nineties about
imitating, or rather commandeering, his style and subject matter (there’s some
kind of subtle-lyric rap battle video up on YouTube you can watch). As a
result, Eminem went in a more commercialised direction and we know where that
got him, whilst our unsung hero remained the same, resulting in him “laying on [an]
airbed at Sean Martin’s, bleeding and starving” (‘I Found My Mind In
Connecticut’, Depart From Me, 2009) – quite the opposite to having an elevator
in one’s mansion.
However, I will now cease with the name-dropping for the
sake of expressing how varied this gentleman’s ties are; showing you what
cloths he is sewn into – I have digressed too much, and enough with the
introduction.
After a terrible day at work (yeah, but when is it good?), I
get in my car and travel roughly five yards before I am welcomed by the thick
of stand-still traffic; it’s dark out and the radiance of the street lights are
the only thing that illuminate the road up ahead with an orange tinge as they
cascade through branches and leafs of the surviving winter trees, that and the
glare of some full-beam headlights in my mirrors coming from the prick behind
me. So, I switch from listening to the radio to my iPod, and the decent begins.
With an aperture of delicate yet grim piano composition
sitting above a bassed-up drone, I find myself slipping into a dream-like
state, to almost another disturbing reality before the archetypal beat kicks
in, and I can’t quite put my finger on it, but it makes me think of ‘My
December’ by Linkin Park if nothing else. With a sprinkle of eeriness and
gloom, the introduction becomes infectious and whirls around my head, creeping
up when I least expect it. In a one-sided exchange of words, a conversation erupts:
“We use the same planet, we breathe the same air
We piss yellow and bleed red, we don't care
Worship the same sun until it falls in the sea
And the moon pops up to light up our debauchery
You wanna’ pave the way, I ain't trying to follow
You think it’s really deep, because you're fucking hollow
You wanna’ be the king, I wanna’ overthrow one
I got grown man balls, you really need to grow some
You wear a lot of hoodies, I wear a lot of flannel
You wanna’ change the game, I wanna’ change the channel
You read what I've accomplished, I read a lot comics
I write a lot of music, you write a lot of comments
You sniff coke, I smoke weed
I get the munchies and pass out, you stay up with nose bleeds
I'm looking forward to the future, while you hate it all
I wouldn't go back if I could, but you would trade it all”
Without any doubt, ‘You Were the S*** (In High School)’
certainly is my song of the month, where through the medium of sound, Cage
exhibits his unnatural talent and equips me with the ability and tact to vent
this suppressed anger, and release my endorphins through smugness and
head-bops. Within the first verse (above), there are so many lines you can pick
out and adore, and wish to quote yourself, or ones you can find yourself
relating to; I had to include the whole verse really – to do the defence of
this song justice, but also because it all is golden, albeit simple, unpoetic
word play… Bar the lines “Worship the same sun until it falls in the sea, and
the moon pops up to light up our debauchery” which cleverly depicts the nature
that although we place faith into whatever spirituality we commit to, at night
we (even Cage) self indulge in our own dirty pleasures regardless.
Another stand-out line for me within the verse is Cage’s dig
at the narcissism social media has created within us: “You think it’s really
deep, because you're fucking hollow”. A line that truly reflects how needless,
and often misquoted, phrases are thrown around the internet in order to better
ones worth and attempt to be perceived by peers as something more – it hits the
nail on the head. It aids his rant, and helps back up his committed statement. I
can definitely see myself quoting this in an argument at some stage in the
future.
His hazy, dark and yet aesthetically pleasing imagery
concocted by a bitter yet lethal tongue and sharp withholds a strong opinion,
but of course the main question now on my lips is who is he talking about?
Is this a dig at someone in his life? Present or past? Is it
to the jock stereotype at high school? Has he been harbouring these views all
these years since his own youth? Or is it a dig at his listeners; an
exaggeration of the target audience for hip-hop? Or is this in-fact a personal,
inner-battle? A face-off with his past; the Chris Palko of ten years ago? Like
his music, is he showing his evolution by juxtaposing his old life with his new
to showcase the stark contrast and portray himself in a new light; an
adaptation of his previous album Depart From Me (2009), which was in reference
to Matthew 7:22-23:
“Many will say to me in that day, ‘Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in Your name, cast out demons in Your name, and done many wonders in Your name?’
And then I will declare to them, ‘I never knew you; depart from me, you who practice lawlessness!’”
Cage is trying to express how he has cast out his inner-demons
from yesteryear and he is this new person, he no longer needs to records vocals
drunk in the booth, and he is content with his life and new(ish) direction. The
dialogue pitches the idea that this rival ego takes over-the-top highs and
stays up all night, nursing a bloody nose because they live an empty life,
whilst Cage smokes at home and eats what he enjoys because he has his life
figured out. He wants to smoke his marijuana and live in peace: “I just want to
medicate, meditate and make it slow”.
Unfortunately, this vindication makes me think about my
life; and my desire to go out to clubs and drink because I don’t know what else
to do with my weekends – to fill that empty void. He’s got a reaction out of
me, and it’s an eye-opener, and ultimately now something that I want to try and
change. But anyway, ‘You Were the S*** (In High School)’ is the sixth track off
Cage’s latest 2013 release, Kill the Architect. It wasn’t promoted as a single,
or previewed to the public prior the album’s release like ‘The Hunt’, with its macabre
lyrics and ‘Lebanese Blonde’ styled beat (which is excellent by the way), but
nonetheless stands out significantly.
This latest record is mature, open, lyrically structured and
less convoluted, more on-the-mark, and essentially one big personal middle
finger to the music industry, and in his own words, “an exorcism of sorts”. It
accurately portrays Cage's development as an artist and encapsulates his whole
career. Throughout Kill the Architect, he's basically complaining and solemn at
the same time; the music meshes and is intrinsically woven together creating a
confusing and almost haunting listen, yet worthwhile, for although I find
myself dismissive of a lot of the record’s content, this song for me is it’s
silver lining and saving grace.
I don’t know if any of this analysis is in-fact true, rather
simply my own interpretation of the song, and what I’ve mentally gathered over
several listens, combined with my previous knowledge of the artist himself –
but I believe that alone is the ultimate selling point for any music lover;
here is a (good) song that makes you think, and above is a description of the
picture I have painted, in which I now urge you to check out this song, and
raise your own questions.
All I’m trying to say at the end of the day is that here is
a song that I like, and I think that you other jaded individuals will like it
too. If you’re stressed or angry, but want to chill out instead, sit back and
put this on. Hopefully this may also be enough to distract you through the
remaining days until payday. Hopefully.
-
The second piece I wrote was to be published on, or before, Valentine's Day, in response to the playlist we created 'Baby Making Music'; my aim was to engage with other sense and emotions not often associated with the tradition, praising the penmanship and passion of the now defunct hardcore outfit Killing the Dream:
I’m sure not everything I write will be in response to a
playlist Bring the Noise’s Tamsyn puts out, but with her selection of
Valentine’s Day delights, I noticed something missing (and quite rightly so)…
Heavy music. The chug of a bass, blast of a drum and strung-out distortion of a
drop-E electric guitar really is not a welcoming sound come the 14th February, but what happens if the listener looks past the music and (hoping
that you do the same when finding a lover) looks for the beauty within?
I know of a song that I hold dear to me, keep the words
close to my heart, and cherish it’s poetic language greatly (albeit
grammatically incorrect at the best of times) which I consider a greater love
song than a lot of radio-friendly ballads you’ll come across on BBC Radio 2
this Friday – a song, however, that Chris Evans would never, ever have grace
his playlist. Besides, the git will probably be moping about still lamenting
his break-up with Billie Piper on
the Feast of Saint Valentine.
In the summer of 2008, little-known Californian quintet Killing the Dream released their
sophomore record, Fractures, and on it, embellished as the penultimate track
was a diamond which they decided to call ‘Holding the Claws’.
A record crammed with blistering hardcore, the band took their
formulaic metallic hardcore approach and evolved within it. Or rather, they had
to. Following their debut, two key members left, including their main
song-writer/composer. Vocalist and lyricist Elijah Horner (who will be the main
focus of this article, as I am looking at more-so at the words and their
meaning rather than anything else) recalled to Scene Point Blank about the
experience, “it was definitely an intimidating task to find someone who could
take over for him in that department”. But surely the greater challenge was
Horner’s own development and how he would adapt to the changes; on writing the
lyrics, he said: “for Fractures I waited until we had all the songs recorded
because I really wanted it to flow and for the songs to fit each other”.
It was as if the band were reincarnated the instant they
began to make a name for themselves… As a result, hidden and so well blended in
the record amidst ‘Thirteen Steps’ and ‘Resolution’, in the grips of true
artistic progression, features a song that’s inspiring and passionate, embodying
nothing but positive emotion, interjecting with hints of melody. ‘Holding the
Claws’ juxtaposes against all other songs that carry sad and angry narratives, that
are visceral in approach, aggressive and blunt with rage and hate, to expose penmanship
that is, quite simply, boldly crafted eloquence.
The well-executed build-up at the beginning is slow and methodical;
it’s the calm before the storm of a scintillating and transcendent mess:
“Don't know what I would have to write about if there wasn’t you
Or if I ever would have wrote at all
They said it wouldn't last, nothing ever does
But you and me, we're different, always were
Stuck together forever, whatever that will mean
Everything is still all wrong, and we're still all that's real
(The only thing that's ever been)
The only words I’ve ever meant
Was when I said I’d do anything for you
See, our claws stretch deep inside, and that's where they'll stay
You say you're lucky you have me
But I had nothing before you had me
Nothing to care about, and no songs to sing
I've seen the world singing songs about you
(The only story I could ever tell right)
We said we'd see the world, you gave it to me
So we're stuck together forever
You and me
Stuck together forever
No matter what that means”
The passionate lyrics Killing the Dream share are often
about lost love that come off as insightful instead of clichéd; but here, they
sing of love found, and it comes across like a poem rather than a song, even
when you take into consideration the structures surrounding hardcore songs and
their lyrics – it has a beginning, a middle, and a satisfying, natural end.
Starting with “Don't know what I would have to write about
if there wasn’t you, or if I ever would have wrote at all” is no doubt a
flattering line to hear if things song was written about you, opening with the
meaning for the song; Horner is saying what without ‘you, none of this would
exist, and none of this would be possible, which he carries on later by stating
“I've seen the world singing songs about you […] We said we'd see the world, you
gave it to me”. This is a marvellous play on words, and a greatly literary
device which’ll give your stomach butterflies. Thanks to this individual, the
band is where they are and they were given the chance to tour the world because
the public related to something Horner wrote about ‘them’. He turns the lovers
eloping ideology on its head in style.
Also, by saying “The only story I could ever tell right” in
the middle of that declaration, he’s being insecure and bashful, overwhelmed by
the impact his lover has on him; he’s reverted back to that innocent,
child-like state by indicating he messes up a lot, but thanks to ‘you’ I can do
something right, and it’s about ‘you’, I want to do ‘you’ proud, are ‘you’ now
proud of me? It’s quite sweet really.
Other phrases such as “we're still all that's real”, “I’d do
anything for you” and “I had nothing before you had me” are all quite common in
expression, but work as good foundations for building around the vivid imagery
this song creates. When Horner erupts with “See, our claws stretch deep inside,
and that's where they'll stay” during a segment with little music to accompany,
listeners’ hairs stand on end. The song suddenly takes a dark turn, bringing in
macabre imagery and ultimately a unique selling point – which pays tribute to
the creativity and black tones associated with heavier music.
The electrically charged atmosphere Horner creates with his
emotion from the line “So we’re stuck together forever” onwards induces awe; from
that point, the song explodes as a shrapnel filled musical force to a chaotic
end. Looking at the title, it’s like a play on traditional wedding vows, the
whole ‘for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health’ stint, this is ‘the
sickness’ (shut up, Disturbed fans) – the claw represents the darker side of a
relationship that artists tend not to approach (with admiration and positively,
mind you). It sinks in that these words must be true, and carry merit; Horner
is holding on tight to the grotesque – in it till the very end. That thought sinks
into my core and brings further dimension and depth to the song.
And, although these words may overlap (they do), this track is
nothing but honest, sincere, heart-felt, and genuine – key words when
describing a hit love song; vital and crucial to its everlasting effect on the
brain (chemicals an’ all that, innit – love’s got nuttin’ to do with the heart
– I read that on UberFacts – but I’ll still use the analogy of the heart to be
cute).
Their record label founder and owner Jacob Bannon (of
Converge) stated ‘Holding the Claws’ “showcase[d] the band's ongoing creative
evolution”, proving that you can progress and mature within the hardcore world
without ever having to leave it behind, “even the most jaded of listeners
appreciate and praise them as their new hardcore heroes in the making”.
Influenced by the
likes of Stay Gold and American Nightmare, Horner’s throat sears with
raspy tones as he unravels personal thoughts through introspective lyrics with
ferocious desperation to buddy-up with the unorthodox, intense heaviness of the
band’s frequent tempo and tone changes.
One thing that strikes me is how the likes of those bands became so dominant
and loved – not only could they put on an unforgettable live performance, but
success was also due to their emotional lyrics. So it’s now interesting to see
how much a band from years before can mould future generations on every aspect;
it’s not just about the music anymore.
“It's all just
things I've felt and things I've gone through. I think
most people go through the same things”, Horner recalled shortly before their
disbandment in 2011, “I just wrote songs I felt and hopefully there are people
that can identify with them”. And that’s been prevalent with me ever since my
first listen of ‘Holding the Claws’. But this hold true also with many other
songs: how well do the words communicate with me? It depicts whether or not
they stick and make that everlasting impression… It’s then you know that you’ve
found a good egg. Like with a lover you connect with on all levels, only then you
know you’ve found ‘the one’.
Note: If you get dumped on (or just before) Valentine’s, I’m sorry to hear
that. I advise listening to other tracks on Fractures such as ‘Fractures’, ‘Thirty Four Seconds’ and ‘Resolution’ to help
you through this transitional period.
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