I Know You've Got Brand New Soul

Welcome to the belated latest instalment of the badly titled Everyone Has Got one Good Song blog thing. Day 24/25.

I was thinking of building the ultimate playlist with one simple rule. One artist. One song. Each day will feature a song by an artist whose birthday is that day and then nine other songs by nine different artists just because people like things to be in tens.

The playlist is here - https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4exU9MUJMWaouOgnu7zmSl?si=I5fqk7VpQX6aDGec7xvqsQ&pi=e-IfIWXc5GT56R

 

So, the idea was that you might want to follow and share and either have the playlist yourself or do your own or chat about it with me, you could use the hashtag #EHGOGS.

I’m on Twitter X thing as @fourfoot

Today’s selection is dedicated to birthday boys Tricky and Rakim.

Brand New, You’re Retro - Tricky. He’s probably called that because he’s really difficult to buy for. Anyway, back in yer early 90s, and in the wake of Massive Attack being fucking brilliant from seemingly out of nowhere, Bristol became the new Manchester/Seattle etc and you seemingly couldn’t move for atmospheric hip hop tinged dub flavoured music for heartbroken stoners. Either way the song I’ve gone for is the one that sampled Michael Jackson and Public Enemy. “Brand New, You’re Retro” – even the title tells you what’s happening, this is what sampling can make happen, making things appear fresh from the distant past. It reminds me of walking between Morecambe and Lancaster with my pal Garry, fucking broke the pair of us, talking about not even having enough money to buy a lottery ticket that might win and enable us to afford a fucking lottery ticket in the first place.

The Story of the Blues – Wah. Ambition is critical. If you’re going to call a four minute pop song something like “The Story of the Blues” you better not go at it half arsed. Yeah it’s very eighties socialist worker haircut but still, there’s worse things to be. You could be a Liberal Democrat.

When She Loved Me – Sarah McLachlan. The Toy Story films are fucking brutal. Brutal. Your kids are wrapped up in animated magic, laughter and adventure and you’re sat with them knowing that what these slices of celluloid are really about is having to let go, having to watch your children become no longer dependent on you and eventually leave you to grow old, develop alcohol problems and die in hot piss-scented rooms whilst in the background some cunt overpays for a kettle on Bargain Hunt. Anyway, as you all know, this is the song that is playing when Jessie relays her past to Woody and the gang. Also, this is the song that was playing in Mollie’s head when Harry fucked her over on the Traitors. Possibly.

Changes Are No Good – Stills. In the wake of the Strokes debut album, 9/11 and The Birth of Cunts in Ties, there were loads of coolish indie-lite New York bands on Zane Lowe’s MTV sofa. These were one of the slightly better ones and this song reminds me of being younger, thinner, richer and actually buying music most weeks.

She’s Not There – Zombies. Used to attend a pub called The Elephant and Castle in Carmarthen. Anyway, it hasn’t opened it’s doors since 1992 but I still remember ordering this song (number 183) on their vinyl jukebox every time I went there. I hadn’t heard it before I started drinking there and it’s the sound of so many happy youthful memories that it almost hurts because that’s the whole point of art, I guess, to make you dig shit up from association, put it together and hurl it at your present like a reminder of your own fucking mortality or something like that. Maybe it’s just a pop song. I don’t know. Anyway, the pub closed because they put blue baize on the pool table and that shit is just wrong.

Sea of Love – Phil Phillips. The song that was playing when I realised I was about to be dumped. Buying a birthday present for my sister-in-law. A sudden tension in the air. Like somebody had let off the four minute warning but only I could hear it. And it was this song, a song with absolutely no relevance to either of our lives, that let me hear the sound of impending change, and not good change either. Of course I know that’s nonsense. How can a three minute song change the temperature of a marriage. But it did. Five days later, she’s gone and I’m listening to Philly Phil doo wopping his way through a sadness I couldn’t find the words to.

If You Could Read Your Mind – Clinic.  Clinic look and sound exactly like a band with that name should do. A psychedelic groove propelled by something sinister.

Chapel of Love – Dixie Cups. This was on a tape that was constantly playing over the speakers at Burger Master, one of the worst jobs I ever had. 22 years old and already failed at life. I learnt a lot of valuable life lessons there. One of which is Never Be Rude to the Guy Making Your Food. Because once you’ve seen a colleague wank into a fishburger….

Museum of Broken Hearts – Chuck Prophet. Sounds in places like Jonathan Richman singing a Tindersticks song and that’s all you need on a Sunday morning.

Horse Outside – Rubberbandits. Blindboy and Bobby Digital are the most original creative minds on the planet.

I Know You Got Soul – Eric B and Rakim. One of the greatest MC’s ever to do it, and yeah its their best known tune but it’s still golden.

Butterflies – September Girls. Pixies go shoegaze style antics from little known Irish girl band.

Considering A Move to Memphis – Colorblind James Experience. The first time you hear this you’ll either hate it or be nonplussed. Repeated plays will soothe the earworm created.

Welcome to the Cheap Seats – Wonder Stuff. For a brief period in the early 90s it was possible to consider the Wonder Stuff the biggest band in Britain which seems insane now, but that was the hinterland between Madchester and Britpop. I think even Cud made the charts. Anyway, I’ve always had a soft spot for this song and, fact fans, I once interviewed Miles Hunt and he was extremely pleasant and funny too.

Apache – Incredible Bongo Band. AKA The most sampled song of all time apparently. Still, a proper tune mind.

Don’t Die Just Yet (The Holiday Song) – David Holmes. In which everyone’s favourite Scottish trip hop-indie-miserable-sordid-beats merchants Arab Strap take their Falkirkian toolbag to Mr Holmes opus and turn it into a magnificent, melancholy tale of Royal Weddings and thwarted adolescent love…

Winona – Drop Nineteens. Nothing could be more 1992 than this song. But don’t let that put you off.

Testify – Hi Fi Sean. Northern soul-booted dance floor stomper.

Brian’s Stubble – Slow Dogs. Hey, they’re from Cardiff and they clearly like half the stuff in my record collection.

Concha Nacar/Limosna – Elvira Dios – A bit of smooth Mexican easy listening jazz to finish off. Normal service will hopefully resume tomorrow….