"Smoke a Cigarette and Lie Some More"
[This is one post in a series about my music mixes. The series list has links to all posts in the series and also definitions of many of the terms I use. You may wish to read the introduction for more background. You may also want to check out the first volume in this multi-volume mix for more info on its theme.
Like all my series, it is not necessarily contiguou
The second volumes of any of my modern mixes are almost always the same: they consist of all the tracks that didn’t fit on the first volume, either in terms of style, or because I just plain ran out of room. The pre-modern mixes1 are different: at the time they were developed, there was no concept of a “second volume.” I thought I was putting together the definitive statement on mood X, and that would be an end to it. Of course, being older and wiser (and continuously discovering newer and newer music), I now know that you can never really exhaustively describe a mood. There’s always something new to say, and some new tunes to say it for you.
This the first second volume of a pre-modern mix that I’ve managed to finish, and I’m pretty happy with it. I think every track here still retains that slightly sad (wistful), slightly creepy (mysterious) vibe that I was originally going for, but it’s expanded in nearly every way. Where the original volume was mostly stuck in a narrow band of time (1986 – 1991), this volume spans three and a half decades (1982 – 2016). And whereas volume I hewed very close to what “alternative” meant in the late 80s and early 90s, this volume ranges far and wide, from early 80s synthpop, to the power ska of the aughts, to downtempo electroncia, and even into some alt-country territory. Let’s dive in, shall we?
On the sadder side of the spectrum, we have strong contenders from Richmond duo House of Freaks, British phenoms the Beautiful South, and one of my favorite 80s bands, Yazoo. House of Freaks is one of those bands you can’t believe is only two people; they exist in a musical spectrum that I have yet to describe but starts on the slow end with Toad the Wet Sprocket, continues through the Goo Goo Dolls and the Replacements, and ends up with the metal-leaning Candlebox. House of Freaks is on the solidly folk-leaning side of the spectrum, perhaps where the Gin Blossoms hang out, but oh so much better than those Arizona gentlemen. No stranger to writing melancholy songs about historical events,2 this one is about slave ships coming to America. The Beautfiul South, far more popular in their native UK than they ever managed to achieve on my side of the pond, is also singing about dark times in history; in their case, it’s a condemnation of politicians who send young men off to die in wars while they stay safe at home. Moving from the historical to the personal, Yazoo’s “Midnight” uses Alison Moyet’s powerful voice to tell a quiet story of loneliness and regret.
But the one that personally touches me the most is Chris Isaak’s “Nothing’s Changed.” A taste:
Kisses you gave me,
The vows you made me,
None of these things have changed ...
Nothing’s changed.
And yet, in the song, of course everything’s changed. The palpable longing in this tune feels very real and raw, and Isaak’s use of dynamics and pauses really drive it home.
Switching to the other side of Wisty Mysteria’s continuum, there’s the weirdly psychedelic “We Are So Small”—
But, as always, most songs are in between the extremes. For sheer isolation, it’s tough to beat the howling wind in the background of Bronski Beat’s “Memories,” which fades directly into the howling wind of the Smiths’ “Asleep.” There’s also the figurative winds of Cutting Crew’s “Sahara,” and the winds in the title of “Sarah When the Wind Blows” by emmet swimming.6 I’m not sure there are any winds in “Trophy” by Bat for Lashes, but there’s certainly desolation and defiance. And “Gold and Rose” by Myles Cochran7 has that echoey emptiness that only country-adjacent tunes can seem to capture.
As for Keren Ann, an anti-folk artist squarely in the mold of Regina Spektor and Feist,8 she often puts out gentle, shimmery pop gems such as “Not Going Anywhere,” the title track from her 2003 album. They’re often hopeful, as this selection is, but in this case there’s a touch of wistful sadness (mostly provided by the backing violin) which makes it fit perfectly on this mix.
For this volume’s injection of songs which seem upbeat until you actually listen to them, my favorite is certainly “Happy Birthday” by Concrete Blonde. Actually, when I arranged the original mix, I was torn between this track and the one I eventually chose, but in the end “Little Conversations” captures that wistful feeling more than this track. But “Happy Birthday” describes a peculiar sense of loneliness where you’re not exactly sad about it, but it certainly ain’t happy either. And I’ve always loved the temporally contemporary Voice of the Beehive, an alternative band fronted by two sisters from California and backed by former members of Madness, who are excellent at producing midtempo or even upbeat songs that have deceptively downbeat messages. “Sorrow Floats” provides such lyrical gems as:
You can’t drown your sorrows,
Or on you will be the joke.
Because the only thing that you will drown is yourself,
‘Cause you see my dear, sorrow floats.
I always wanted to get this track onto a mix somewhere, and this was the obvious place for it.
[ Smoke a Cigarette and Lie Some More ]
“Gold and rose” by Myles Cochran, off Marginal Street
“Big Empty” by Stone Temple Pilots, off Purple
“Nothing's Changed” by Chris Isaak, off Heart Shaped World
“Sahara” by Cutting Crew, off Broadcast
“State of Mind” by Mad Caddies, off Keep It Going
“Sarah When the Wind Blows” by emmet swimming, off Big Night Without You
“Sorrow Floats” by Voice of the Beehive, off Let It Bee
“Bottom of the Ocean” by House of Freaks, off Monkey on a Chain Gang
“Happy Birthday” by Concrete Blonde, off Free
“Not Going Anywhere” by Keren Ann, off Not Going Anywhere
“We Are So Small” by the Red Sea Pedestrians, off See Through the Eyes of Osiris!
“Trophy” by Bat for Lashes, off Fur and Gold
“Lost Boys and Girls Club” by Dum Dum Girls, off Too True
“The Shining Path” by Shriekback, off Big Night Music
“Have You Ever Been Away” by the Beautiful South, off Welcome to the Beautiful South
“Memories” by Bronski Beat, off The Age of Consent
“Asleep” by the Smiths, off Louder Than Bombs [Compilation]
“Midnight” by Yazoo, off Upstairs at Eric's
“Crescent Moon” by KT Tunstall, off Invisible Empire // Crescent Moon
I’m not sure there are any truly surprising choices here, but perhaps the Mad Caddies qualify. The power ska group from just up the California coast from me is more known for upbeat tunes such as you might find on Salsatic Vibrato.9 But “State of Mind,” while not exactly downbeat, is certainly really happy-making either. The bridge proclaims “I feel the weight of the world sometimes, hanging on my head, ... look for the light at the end of this tunnel once again,” and that sums it up nicely: the singer wants to find some hope, but isn’t really succeeding.
Which only leaves us with our opener, closer, and volume namer. The last of which may also be a surprising choice: grunge masters Stone Temple Pilots at first seem an odd pick for a volume of reflective tunes, but “Big Empty” is just that. Full of surreal imagery (such as “her dizzy head is conscience-laden”), it’s another example of using dynamics to build an amazing song structure. There are the quiet moments when Scott Weiland says he’s done “too much walking; shoes worn thin” as well as “too much tripping and my soul’s worn thin” (which, as thinly veiled drug references in rock anthems go, is one of the better ones), then the song bursts into guitars and drums and Scott wails that it’s “time to take her home.” It’s always been one of my favorites, even though I generally prefer Core to Purple.
As for the opener, it’s another appearance from one of my favorite obscure bands, Naomi, who were so instrumental in forging the first two volumes of Smokelit Flashback. Given my definition of “obscure band,” many bands are obscure when I first write about them, but become far better known in the years afterwards. But, considering that the Berlin masters of downtempo released their first album in 2002, it’s somewhat amazing to me that AllMusic barely acknowledges them, with a discography but no biograpy, and Wikipedia continues to be blissfully unaware that they exist at all. But exist they do, and they are amazingly versatile, as you might guess from the dizzying number of mixes they’ve appeared on.10 This track, from their sophomore album Pappelallee,11 is tinged with just enough regret to make it slot beautifully here:
I can’t say “no,” and I can’t say “yes,”
Just another way of saying “no,” I guess ...
When you can’t say “no,” and you can’t say “yes,”
You leave a mess.
Given that I’d discovered this song about 15 years too late for it to make onto the first volume, it was actually one of the earliest tracks I slotted for this follow-up, and it was nearly always in the anchor slot.
As for “Crescent Moon,” it has a bit of a strange tale. I first discovered KT Tunstall via one of those “if you like that, you’ll like this!” music discovery services. I’ve no doubt that the “that” in this case was Liz Phair; if you like Liz Phair, I find it difficult to believe that you could possibly fail to like KT Tunstall. So I knew I wanted to check her music out, but where to start? AllMusic convinced me that Invisible Empire // Crescent Moon
Next time, we’ll drift into more surreal terroritory. Again.
1 Easiest to just read volume I‘s post for what that means, if you don’t know yet.
2 We last saw them singing about the development of the atomic bomb on Rose-Coloured Brainpan II.
3 Such as their amazing cover of “Sugar in My Coffin” that we saw on Porchwell Firetime.
4 Introduced to me by a former coworker, who knew or had met one of the members. Or former members. I don’t recall exactly.
5 Who we’ve seen in this series many times: twice in Paradoxically Sized World (volumes III and IV) and once for the inaugural Darkling Embrace.
6 I’ve talked about my discovery of and connections to emmet swimming on Salsatic Vibrato I and Tenderhearted Nightshade I.
7 Who we first saw on Rose-Coloured Brainpan, where I mentioned that he’s another Magnatune discovery.
8 And in fact the place we’ve seen her before is right where you’d expect: Sirenexiv Cola.
9 And you will find them there, on volumes III and IV.
10 To wit: Smokelit Flashback I, Smokelit Flashback II, Shadowfall Equinox V, Bleeding Salvador I, Rose-Coloured Brainpan I, and Cantosphere Eversion I.
11 Which, the Internet just informed me, is apparently German for “Poplar Avenue.” Go figure.
12 Much like the two halves of Concrete Blonde’s Free are commonly marked “Day Side” and “Night Side.”