Tag Archives: 1993

Song Analysis #32: Stephen Duffy featuring Nigel Kennedy – Music in Colors

Song Analysis, , , , , , ,

Title: ‘Music in Colors’
Where to find it: ‘Music in Colors’ (1993, Parlophone)
Performed by: Stephen Duffy featuring Nigel Kennedy
Words by: Stephen Duffy

Over the last 6 weeks, it’s like someone has pressed the fast forward button on my life, with so much personal and professional drama and changes swirling around me like I’ve been caught up in a twister. Before last weekend, a musician friend of mine who lives in Brooklyn posted one of those ‘Occupy Facebook’ memes in which we were to get friends who liked our status updates to post a video of an artist we liked. One of my writers was game, so I purposely gave her an artist I loved but I knew she knew nothing about: Stephen Duffy’s post-Duran Duran band, The Lilac Time.

You’ve probably never heard of Stephen Duffy. Or if you have, you probably only know that he’s written a number of chart-topping hits with Robbie Williams, including the #1 ‘Radio’. But before all of that, he started out as a shy teenager in Birmingham, trying to emote into a microphone while his buddies Nicholas Bates and Nigel Taylor played their instruments behind him. Nicholas Bates and Nigel Taylor became Nick Rhodes and John Taylor, who went on to stardom as Duran Duran without Stephen, who quit early on because he had no interest in becoming famous. Or so he says.

I could say much more on the matter, as I know a lot about Stephen’s back catalogue and personal and professional history (probably too much!), but he came into my mind when I presented his band The Lilac Time to my friend, I realized I had almost forgotten that he was really the first songwriter I’d come into personal contact with. When he and Nick Rhodes decided to start a side project called The Devils, I was the first person to make them a fan site.

The internet was still relatively new then, and he seemed every bit as intrigued about what I was writing about them as I was intrigued about his songwriting. I have an email of his somewhere in a drawer; I’d printed it because I almost didn’t believe Stephen Duffy had written to me. The subject line read, innocuously, “Me and you”, which made me laugh. In it, he said, “Thanks for calling me a lyrical genius!” (the only person I’ve ever anointed with that superlative), and also, “thanks for all your work with the website and everything i really appreciate it and i’m happy that you like what i do too.” That was really sweet of him. I spent far too much money and effort buying second-hand albums and imports to feed my Duffy / Lilac Time obsession – the most memorable moment was biting my nails, trying to win a rare piece on eBay while on holiday, tapping furiously on keys at an internet cafe in Vancouver, my father looking on, scowling at me to get off the computer – that him acknowledging me in an email and saying thank you made it all worth it. It’s funny how a few short years later, I am now getting similar thank yous from musicians who thank me for writing about them and helping their careers.

To me, Stephen is one of those great unsung heroes of popular music – only the people who have sought him out or accidentally “found” him have been blessed by his music, and in some ways, I think that is the way it should be. Even though it’s been over a decade since I was introduced to him by a shadowy London musician who I came to love, he’s still one of my ‘little secrets’. I don’t think Stephen or the Lilac Time would ever be massively popular with the mainstream anyway; his intention in songwriting was never to become famous, as leaving Duran Duran while they were on the precipice of breaking into the business is clear proof. No, Stephen Duffy’s writing is for the rare musical connoisseur, and those who find him and his music come to love and cherish what he does.

First, the words:

I hear music in colors, I see it in the air
And all the sisters and brothers, I see them there
When all the lights go out, all over town
And all the pretty fireworks fall down
I’m waiting for a wake up call, I don’t try to sleep
I watch fluorescent second hand creep.

You know I love another, does it bother you?
Do you think that one love is good enough for two?
The pure pain of jealousy a piercing fear
Passed right through her soul like a spear
We all have deeply hidden chords that someone else must strike
To hear the very ringing of the psyche.

I hear you split up with your boyfriend
And he seemed unconcerned
Love’s a fickle fortune, babe
Every penny must be earned
We’re astronauts, we’re angels, but we’re never coming down
For all the gods who passed us by have drowned
The boogaloo of modern verse is dancing in her mind
Still very much the nervous kind.

Do you like this kind of party? I don’t know why I came
They take winning so seriously but never play the game
I can smell the powder of your makeup, your perfume
Sense you when you’re in another room
Are they still talking about furniture
‘Bout one or other chair
I can only see you sitting there.

I see you in colors
I see you in colors
I see you in colors
I see you in colors
I see you in colors
I see you in colors
I see you in colors
I see you in…

Now, the analysis:

Depending on the day, ‘Music in Colors’ is either my favourite Stephen Duffy-related album, or in second place to 1999’s ‘Looking for a Day in the Night’. I could spend weeks analysing each and every song on either of these albums, as they are all tied tightly up with the first time I fell in love. But YouTube helped me choose which song to analyse, as the title track is the only one I could find as a stream.

‘Music in Colors’ is an interesting Stephen Duffy album for a number of reasons. For one, he enlisted the help of violinist Nigel Kennedy, which made all the numbers, including the elegantly named ‘Transitoires’, sophisticated instrumental segues, a cut above the rest. While violins and fiddles are all over the place in folk and even pop albums these days, that wasn’t the case back in 1993. The song is over 7 minutes long, but the last 2 minutes are an extended instrumental outro, with minimal words, that sounds to my ear like the culmination of how someone in love feels about his object of his affection. It’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard. Also, that’s not a typo you’ve read: the album is called ‘Music in Colors’ and is spelled the American English way.

If you’re looking for a standard song structure with verse, chorus, verse, chorus, bridge, outro, sorry, you’re out of luck in most of Stephen’s songs. He just doesn’t write that way most of the time. The way I read it, ‘Music in Colors’ is written in a very stream of consciousness way, and he’s very poetic as he does it. I’m going to look at each “verse” individually.

I hear music in colors, I see it in the air
And all the sisters and brothers, I see them there
When all the lights go out, all over town
And all the pretty fireworks fall down
I’m waiting for a wake up call, I don’t try to sleep
I watch fluorescent second hand creep.

If what my ex said is true, I understand that Stephen dealt with substance abuse and “I hear music in colors” is less about synesthesia and more about the colors you hallucinate when you’re on drugs, and being unable to sleep relates to being on too many uppers and finding it physically impossible to relax. Can’t say I relate. Of course, there are many reasons for insomnia that aren’t related to drug use, including unfortunate turns in the affairs of the heart, which could also explain verse 1, since we’ll get to heartbreak later in the song. If you didn’t even consider this song in the context of drug use, all you would notice is the gentle lilt of his voice, which I absolutely adore.

You know I love another, does it bother you?
Do you think that one love is good enough for two?
The pure pain of jealousy, a piercing fear
Passed right through her soul like a spear
We all have deeply hidden chords that someone else must strike
To hear the very ringing of the psyche.

He admits that he loves someone else, but there’s this other woman in the picture. In fact, it is her he’s singing to and she’s at the same party he is, and her memory haunts him, even if she’s not in the same room. “We all have deeply hidden chords that someone else must strike / to hear the very ringing of the psyche.” This seems to suggest that the woman he’s actually with is *not* the woman who pushes his buttons but instead this woman who haunts him. At the same time, I can’t tell if the second verse is meant to be sadistic or loving. He asks the second woman if it bothers her he’s with someone else: either she cares and it hurts her deeply, or she doesn’t care, in which case he’s trying to get a reaction out of her.

I hear you split up with your boyfriend
And he seemed unconcerned
Love’s a fickle fortune, babe
Every penny must be earned
We’re astronauts, we’re angels, but we’re never coming down
For all the gods who passed us by have drowned
The boogaloo of modern verse is dancing in her mind
Still very much the nervous kind.

Maybe he’s gained confidence in acting this way towards her because the second woman lost her boyfriend. In fact, he’s being quite callous with, “Love’s a fickle fortune, babe / Every penny must be earned”. This makes me think she never treated him well at all and he’s pulling the “what goes around, comes around” card. ‘Astronauts’ refers to the amazing 1991 Lilac Time album, I’m pretty sure, and in this context, he’s speaking of ascending like astronauts and angels, and being in a good place emotionally.

Do you like this kind of party? I don’t know why I came
They take winning so seriously but never play the game
I can smell the powder of your makeup, your perfume
Sense you when you’re in another room
Are they still talking about furniture
‘Bout one or other chair
I can only see you sitting there.

Or so I thought. The fourth and last verse makes it sound like he’s still very much in love with her. He’s dragged himself to this party and thinking he was going to be strong, but in actuality, just recognising her makeup and perfume, even if she’s not physically present, is affecting him. Her ghost still lingers: “Are they still talking about furniture / ‘Bout one or other chair / I can only see you sitting there.”

And then where does Stephen leave you? In this swirling, gorgeous outro that envelopes and cuddles you like a blanket. While there are stabs of emotional pain, the underlying message of this song for me, as I feel for the whole album, is one of love. Unrequited or not, it’s pretty gorgeous.

Lastly, the song, in stream form. As mentioned earlier, the title is ‘Music in Colors’ and whoever posted this stream made a mistake in typing the title out as ‘Music in Colours’. A real Duffy fan would never have made that mistake. It’s even wrong in Spotify. (Facepalm.)

Edit 21 September 2015: The account that posted a stream of the song has now been deleted. Listen to the song on Spotify below. I’ve also embedded the entire ‘Music in Colors’ album too, which frankly is a masterpiece.

Song Analysis #28: Duran Duran – None of the Above

Song Analysis, , , , ,

Title: ‘None of the Above’
Where to find it: ‘Duran Duran’, known to fans as ‘The Wedding Album’ (1993, EMI/Capitol)
Performed by: Duran Duran
Words by: most likely Simon Le Bon

I am a Duranie and I’m not ashamed to admit it. When the internet revolution hit, I was in prime position to take advantage of it: a friend and I started a Duran Duran fans mailing list and group on eGroups, which was later bought by Yahoo! We wanted to start it because being younger and not having first-hand experience with the mental, massive, early heyday of the band in the early ’80s, we’d been mocked and made fun by Duranies, mostly female and of the entitled variety, who had. They claimed, in their deluded little minds, that there was no way that any of us “youngsters” could ever be as big of fans of the band as they were. I’ve experienced this phenomenon with many a band since, and to those small-minded people, I want to tell them this, for this is what I wish them to realise: do not belittle or minimise the experiences or loyalty of a fan for a band. They may be younger, or live in another country from where the band is from, they may not have as much money as you, what have you, but everyone loves and worships a band who means a lot to them in their own way. They do not deserve to be marginalised under any circumstances. Love for a band has no boundaries.

Through our group, I made several friends that I’m still close to today and I cherish those friendships. I also cherish Duran Duran’s music, which unfortunately gets a ridiculously bad rap in most people’s eyes. Yes, 1984’s ‘Seven and the Ragged Tiger’ wasn’t the apex of Western civilisation, but it meant so much to an awful lot of people. And while Duran Duran’s later work in the ’90s didn’t sell well, there is a hell of a lot of good material in there that some people will never get a chance to listen to, because they’ve already put down the band in their heads. To those people, I recommend 1993’s ‘Duran Duran’, known to us fans as The Wedding Album because the front cover has a photo of each band member’s parents the day they got married. On there, you will find the timeless mega hit ‘Ordinary World’; the infectious ‘Too Much Information’; the incredibly nimble and beautiful ‘Breath After Breath’, starring famed Brazilian musician Milton Nascimento; the fact-based narrative of ‘Sin of the City’, chronicling the real life tragedy of the Happy Land club fire in the Bronx in 1990; the hilariously cheeky yet weirdly erotic ‘UMF’; as well as the song that turned me into a Duran fan initially, ‘Come Undone’.

When I considered a song for Music in Notes to exemplify how important Duran Duran is to my life, I wracked my brain to come up with a song that wasn’t a famous one (think ‘Rio’ or ‘The Reflex’), yet showed off the power of song in a style most people who don’t know much at all about the band wouldn’t associated with them. I hope I have done them justice, as I credit the band for saving my life during my years in university.

First, the words:

Chorus (intro version with just vocals)
I am I myself alone,
I realise I never need to use no-one
When it comes down to my soul,
Freedom puts my faith in none of the above

Verse 1
There was a time I was so afraid
Of everything people around me said
That I wanted to hide my face in the shadows

Verse 2
There was a time on a bed of nails
I was dreaming a plan I thought could not fail
But no power under the sun could pull it together

Pre-chorus
I can’t take this attitude
Got to show now I got to move on
God knows where I’m going to
It’s a lonely burning question

Chorus
I am I myself alone
Realise I never need to use no-one
Money, power, holy roads,
Freedom puts my faith in none of the above

Verse 3
If there’s a time that we ever see
The nature of life in reality
Then I want to be there
To kick at the answer

Pre-chorus
I can’t take this attitude
Got to show now I got to move on
God knows where I’m going to
It’s a lonely burning question

Chorus (modified, extended version)
I am I myself alone
Realize I never need to use no-one
Money, power, holy roads,
Freedom puts my faith in none of the above

I am I myself alone
Realise I never need to use no-one
When it comes down to my soul
Freedom puts my faith in none of the above

Bridge with spoken word

Chorus
I am I myself alone
Realise I never need to use no-one
Money, power, holy road,
Freedom puts my faith in none of the above

I am I myself alone
Realise I never need to use no-one
When it comes down to my soul
Freedom puts my faith in none of the above

Outro
None of the above
My faith in none of the above
None of the above
I stand by none of the above
None of the above
I stand by none of the above

Now, the analysis:

People seem to forget – or maybe they refuse to acknowledge – that Duran Duran could be a very funky band. My favourite album of theirs changes from day to day, and one of my all-time favourites is not ‘Rio’ with its famous Patrick Nagel painting on its cover but ‘Notorious’, which marked the start of the band’s association with producer Nile Rodgers, more famously known as the lead guitarist of Chic. It’s just one example of stuff he did prior to working with Daft Punk that wasn’t rubbish. ‘None of the Above’ is indeed funky and proves everyone who thinks Duran Duran is merely a “pop band”, but far more interesting is how the band decided to go in an agnostic / atheist direction for the lyrics.

Sartre once famously quipped, “L’enfer, c’est les autres”, or “hell is other people”. I think I can relate to this a bit. When I was in my late teens, I was an angry little thing. I don’t think I was necessary mad or angry at certain other people, I just wasn’t happy with the cards life had dealt me, and I became terribly envious of anyone healthy who could do whatever they wanted with their lives. That was not my life, nor has it ever been. I had to give up my dream of being a singer and musician; I knew there was no way on god’s green earth that a girl with issues of terrible fatigue could ever cope with the demands of going out on the road as touring musician.

I’d gotten to the point where I was just sick of being sick, a common thread that runs through the minds of each and every person who copes with a chronic illness. In some ways, I feel like my childhood was robbed from me, from no fault of my own, and it’s been hard coming to terms with that. Even these days when I’m in a pretty good place physically, when I feel great and my body isn’t acting up, I still question the existence of a benevolent, all knowing god. I used to wonder aloud, “why the hell was I given all these terrible things to deal with, why is my body so messed up, why have I been hospitalised so many times, when so-and-so person I know doesn’t have anything wrong with them and she can do whatever she wants?”

I changed my mind slightly when my father died, I think for my own sanity: I had to believe that there was a heaven and an afterlife, because I wanted to believe and expect that one day I would see him again. He was the man in my life who had always supported me in whatever I wanted to do, and that there was something more to life than what I was living here on earth. Two years later, I was hospitalised for 2 weeks with a terrible prognosis and thought I was dying; when I was finally discharged, I came out scared but okay, immediately going out to buy a cross to wear on my neck. I wear this cross now not so much for religious reasons, but because I didn’t know how else to “thank”, and whose decision it was for giving me the chance to live again. I do think I’ve had too many close calls and there must be some reason, some purpose for my life on earth for me to be “saved” so many times. But as for the existence of a god, who knows for sure really, right?

The brilliance of Duran Duran’s ‘None of the Above’ is the universal application of its lyrics. Everyone, no matter what your life situation, has been put in circumstances where you feel like you’ve been forsaken, whether it be by your parents, your family, your friends, or even God. Morrissey has touched on this theme quite a few times in his writing, more specifically about how being brought up Catholic made him come out of his childhood with Catholic guilt. Interestingly enough, this Catholic guilt “phenomenon” is something he shares with Duran Duran bassist John Taylor, who has discussed on occasion his difficulty with the guilt and how drug use “helped” him to reduce inhibitions when sleeping with groupies while on tour. So in essence, the Catholic guilt forced him into a corner with drugs, and the drugs won. John was quite a junkie for many years and all us Duranies are so thankful he was able to become sober and come out on the other side in one piece. He’s still with us. Their good friend Michael Hutchence of INXS wasn’t so lucky, and Simon Le Bon seems to have predicted their tragic loss in the haunting ‘Michael You’ve Got a Lot to Answer For’ on 1997’s ‘Medazzaland’ (another one of my favourite Duran albums).

Going back to Sartre’s quote, ‘None of the Above’ questions the importance of people in our lives in addition to religion. The lines “I am I myself alone, I realise I never need to use no-one” are both showing incredible independence. It’s no wonder I used to play this song very loudly before I left my dorm room, headed out to take a midterm. It was the personal, musical pep talk I needed in a life at school that was lived, outside of class anyway, alone. But the follow-up lines are also tinged with sadness: “When it comes down to my soul / freedom puts my faith in none of the above.” It was John Donne who wrote, “no man is an island”, yet in this song, Simon Le Bon wants us not only to believe, but to champion that man (or woman) who can do it all without any outside support or interference, human or divine.

Freedom, Le Bon says, is the key that we all need to be able go out there, alone, and be a success. This freedom could be from religious ideals forced upon you as a child that no longer ring true when you grow to be an adult and have adult experiences. It could be freedom from societal or parental standards that served as impenetrable shackles while we were children that no longer have bearing on our lives now that we are grown. Just as it could equally represent the freedom from the friends we used to think were well meaning in their advice but we’ve now learned to steer clear of, for everything we used to think about them has now been turned on its head and we are no longer in agreement.

When I first heard the song, I was playing it on a used copy of ‘The Wedding Album’ I’d bought cheaply from the CD exchange on the main drag near uni. Even as the tune crackled and the CD would skip, I felt the confidence, the cocky attitude of this song. I’m not an extrovert. I’m just not. I wasn’t born as one, and I’ll never be one. This song gave the 19-year old version of me through the words “can’t take this attitude / got to show now I got to move on” the hope that it was possible to not only survive but thrive without having to lean on anyone else.

My mother, ever the pessimist, used to have this saying when I was growing up, “there is no-one you can count on in this life but yourself.” I always hated it when she said that. It made me all the more hard-headed to find the best of friends and the best of lovers. But I am learning, slowly, that as many friends that I have and people I know in this country, in Britain, and in others, there are some that aren’t really looking out for me the way I look out for them. I had my own moments of being forsaken in 2013, and they weren’t at all pleasant. ‘None of the Above’ reminds me not that I have to be a cold, hard, unyielding beast of a person to survive life. That, I believe, was the take home message Le Bon wanted to give to the public because Duran Duran were going through a rough period in their professional lives and had felt forsaken by the same industry who had championed them through their hugely profitable years in the ’80s. No, when I listen to ‘None of the Above’, I am reminded of my teenage self, the girl that felt the world was against her. I am no longer that girl. I am a much different woman now, a woman who is still learning from life and experience but can go out there with maybe not 100% confidence in myself (seriously, who has that kind of confidence?) but with enough to know I’m worth something great to this world. Thank you, Duran Duran.

Lastly, the song, a stream of the song from the album (there was never a promo video made for this song, as it was never released on its own as a single).

Song Analysis #6: James – Sometimes

Song Analysis, , , ,

Title: ‘Sometimes’
Where to find it: ‘Laid’ (1993, Mercury)
Performed by: James
Words by: Tim Booth

I am taking a simple-ish song to ease myself back into the lyric interpretation…

First, the words:

Verse 1
There’s a storm outside, and the gap between crack and thunder
Crack and thunder, is closing in, is closing in
The rain floods gutters, and makes a great sound on the concrete
On a flat roof, there’s a boy leaning against the wall of rain
Aerial held high, calling “come on thunder, come on thunder”

Chorus
Sometimes, when I look deep in your eyes, I swear I can see your soul
Sometimes, when I look deep in your eyes, I swear I can see your soul

Verse 2
It’s a monsoon, and the rain lifts lids off cars
Spinning buses like toys, stripping them to chrome
Across the bay, the waves are turning into something else
Picking up fishing boats and spewing them on the shore

The boy is hit, lit up against the sky, like a sign, like a neon sign
And he crumples, drops into the gutter, legs twitching
The flood swells his clothes and delivers him on, delivers him on

Chorus
Sometimes, when I look deep in your eyes, I swear I can see your soul
Sometimes, when I look deep in your eyes, I swear I can see your soul

Verse 3
There’s four new colors in the rainbow
An old man’s taking Polaroids
But all he captures is endless rain, endless rain
He says listen, takes my head and puts my ear to his
And I swear I can hear the sea

Outro
Sometimes, when I look in your eyes I can see your soul
(I can reach your soul)
(I can touch your soul)
Sometimes

Now, the analysis:

‘Sometimes’ is not as well known as a James tune as ‘Laid’ (about sex) or ‘Sit Down’ (about loneliness), but I think by skipping this one, you’re short changing the Manchester band. This song should be given just as much weight, as I think the words – set to a soothing guitar rhythm that acts like a lullaby, nearly – are far better than those other two.

The world goes on, even when you’re in love (or not) or have a broken heart (or not). The purpose of a monsoon – to give life to an otherwise barren, arid land – is used as a plot device and is compared to the trials and tribulations of life. The horror of a child being picked up by the storm leads to something that is not as horrible, as “the flood swells his clothes and delivers him on, delivers him on” to the next life. An old man who is taking Polaroids of nothing but the endless rain can still find joy in what is within him (the sea), which the protagonist can also feel.

More literally, I think the chorus is simply putting the feelings you have for someone and how terrible things can happen – like storms – around you and you barely notice, because you’re in love. I feel this twinge in my heart every time I hear “sometimes, when I look deep in your eyes, I swear I can see your soul” because I have always used eyes as the windows into a person’s soul. In all my adult life I’ve had the ability to suss the goodness in most people, and I credit this in great deal to what I see when I look into their eyes. If the eyes are vacant and soulless, I can just tell something’s not right.

I still dream about the man I last loved and his beautiful eyes, and I often hope that he saw my soul when he looked through mine.

Lastly, the song, via its official video.