Author: Flyssy

Brad Paisley is one of the best songwriters in music. Yeah I’m biased, but it’s my blog. Paisley’s style of writing veers from intimate to heartbreaking to hilarious. Sitting comfortably?

Whiskey Lullaby walks the line between despair and intimacy through the vocal contrast of Alison Krauss and Paisley. It describes a haunting story of two lovers and a Wuthering Heights/Romeo and Juliet-style heartbreak. I Wish You’d Stay is a faintly gut-wrenching take on the end of a relationship: “I left a map on your front seat/just in case you lose your way/but don’t worry, once you reach Sallisaw/it’s all Interstate.” There are also some strings thrown in there for good measure, but it’s the story that always gets me. It isn’t angry, there’s no animosity or fire, it’s soft and regretful. It’s about a relationship which, for reasons unknown, couldn’t work out. Sometimes those are the worst of all; nobody’s done anything wrong, you’re just not the same people you once were. The force of having to come to terms with this and the pain involved is perfectly captured in this song.

New Favourite Memory. “You’re fumbling round in the bedroom/trying to put on your shoes/hair half down, dress half on/looking like you’re about to blow a fuse.” It’s so simple. It’s also completely accurate if you’re a woman and you’ve had to get ready for something in a rush, but that’s the beauty of it. It perfectly romanticises the quiet security that comes with a happy, long-term relationship. The verses and chorus flit between time signatures (4/4 and 3/4 respectively) and it’s this waltzy rhythm in the chorus that lends another texture to the serenity of the images conjured.

I legitimately don’t know where to start with the hilarity of some of these songs. High Life, a song about a white trash family who will sue anyone for anything; I’m Gonna Miss Her, when a man chooses between his love for fishing and his girlfriend – “I’m sure it’ll hit me/ when I walk through that door tonight/ that I’m gonna miss her/ oh, lookie there, I’ve got a bite.” Camouflage, taking the mick out of the invisibility joke and Online and Selfie #theinternetisforever are commentaries on internet dating and the tastelessness of Instagram culture. The first time you listen to these songs is joyous because you don’t think they can get funnier as they go along, but they really do.

A third category that Brad Paisley excels in is the social commentary song. Take Those Crazy Christians – “A famous TV preacher has a big affair and then/one tearful confession and he’s born again again.” The song draws attention to a really interesting topic, as well as inviting an unexpected examination of one’s moral compass. Welcome to the Future expresses amazement at the developments of the world around us compared to fifty years ago, also paired with a sombre reminder of the difficulties surrounding race relations in America.

After examining the lyrical aspect of a lot of these songs, it’s also impossible not to mention the obvious; Brad Paisley is also a shit-hot guitarist. Play, his album from 2008, is mostly instrumental and contains some of the most infuriating chicken-picking known to man – Cluster Pluck is basically the Eruption of the country music world and features a smorgasbord of guitarists renowned for their finger-picking prowess .

I could go on and on about so many of Brad Paisley’s songs, but I’ll leave it at this, hoping that someone will go away and find a song of his which resonates with them. Believe me, you’ve got a wide variety of themes to choose from.

Once again, my youth is a hindrance when assessing the bands that I like. However, from what I know, it’s difficult to imagine 1970s music without Led Zeppelin in the frame. I went through my own Zeppelin phase, and also wondered what everyone else must have thought around 1975 – was there a better band around? Were there, in fact, any other bands around apart from Led Zeppelin? Was there a better guitarist around than Jimmy Page? The answer to ll three of these questions is yes, of course, especially to the last. The answer comes mostly in the form of two words – Brian May.

Jimmy Page has co-written some great songs. Whole Lotta Love – great. Rock N’ Roll – great. Stairway – overplayed, plagarised, but still great. However, on a technical level, there are so many better guitarists (I’ll try and make my point clear over the indignant shouting of every 12 year-old guitarist currently attempting Stairway to Heaven in every guitar shop across the country).

On that note, let’s talk about Brian May. Style, attention to detail and tone are his main forte. May writes and performs each song with the utmost precision – you only have to listen to the solo in Killer Queen and you’d see what I mean. It’s neat and tidy, but turns this set of seemingly uninteresting qualities for a guitar solo into an unmistakable and incredibly stylish formula. A classic player needs a classic amp, and the tone of May’s Vox AC30 reflects his playing – clean but also incredibly powerful. I saw the band with Adam Lambert in January and I can safely say that if I heard Jimmy Page’s guitar tone, I wouldn’t think much of it, whereas May’s is unmistakably his. Plus, the hair…

The songs. Despite the huge success of Led Zeppelin, it would be easier to name a greater number of Queen’s songs initially. Why? Maybe due to the influence of Freddie Mercury as a performer, maybe the fact that their vocals of were so unique in their arrangement – the layering of harmonies which created a wall of operatic singing gives the band it’s recognizable sound. From a technical point of view, Queen were more on point than Led Zeppelin – they sound much sharper and much more distinct. Furthermore, John Deacon and John Paul Jones have both been remarkably underappreciated in this area – both are magnificent bassists, but their talents as songwriters cannot go unnoticed; Deacon as the author of some of Queen’s greatest songs – The Show Must Go On, You’re My Best Friend and I Want To Break Free, and Jones being behind Black Dog and Trampled Underfoot, among others.

That’s not to say at all that Led Zeppelin don’t sound good. They do, simply in the opposite way. Almost all of the material by Queen is meticulously detailed in composition and execution, but Led Zeppelin are much, much more prone to improvisation (Jimmy Page recorded the solo in Rock N’Roll in a corridor as improv). Zeppelin sound grittier, rougher and dirtier than Queen.  However, it wouldn’t be fair to compare Dazed and Confused with Bohemian Rhapsody, or Kashmir with Inneundo. Led Zeppelin represents the 70’s as being the decade which said goodbye to flower power and instead smacked you across the face with a steaming pile of filthy, felonious, good old fashioned Rock N’ Roll. Queen, on the other hand, exploded after 1975 and were hailed as being a powerhouse of quality and dynamism, particularly in terms of vocals. Which brings us onto the next element to consider: frontmen.

The fact that Led Zeppelin just exudes sexual magnetism is mainly down to the lyrics by Plant which do nothing but fertilize ideas about sex (I shan’t go into detail about lemons). Whilst it is an undisputed fact that Freddie Mercury is simply outstanding as a musician but also in vocal performance and stage presence, how good is Robert Plant in comparison? His raspy, screaming vocals are a staple of every Led Zep track, and I can’t lie, they’re still very effective. However, the early 1970’s were the height of the band’s success. I.e, not the time at which Queen were also at the height of theirs, but were just beginning. Therefore, it isn’t necessarily fair to pit Plant and Mercury against each other, as they were both at the top of their game at different times in music history. Although, if we were to pit them against each other, it would be very, very difficult to choose a better frontman. Robert Plant has a raw, sexually-charged delivery, whilst Freddie Mercury is outright mind blowing. Take The Show Must Go On, for example; the sheer amount of power in Mercury’s voice sends chills down my spine whenever I hear it, and I’m sure I’m not the only one.

Led Zeppelin are an amazing band. Queen are an amazing band. It wouldn’t be right to try and decide which one is better – there are too many aspects to consider. Both influenced the members of Def Leppard among many other bands of that era, and continue to be cited as influences to artists today. I think that if a band can do that, then both are equally successful – Led Zeppelin and Queen have both left legacies which will be ingrained in rock history forever, and that is the true measure of success for them.

My love for/minor obsession with Def Leppard began with a fuzzy clip from In The Round In Your Face, 1988, on a dusty VCR tape from the Cupboard of Forgotten Music Programmes. And so began my second love affair with classic rock. Where do I start with Hysteria? I can’t find one bad song on the record (not even Run Riot).

Let’s start with the most obvious one; Pour Some Sugar on Me could not have more testosterone in it if it tried. The distorted riff explodes in a fit of “I am man, I have loud guitar, listen to THIS.” This is helped along by the Man Grunt which furnishes the first verse. This track was made for stadiums.  It’s punchy and confident. The backing vocals are deep and rough, creating the gritty sex appeal which enticed Floridian strippers in the late 80s and cemented it as probably one of the catchiest songs ever. As well as this, it sounds hilarious sped up.

Love Bites manages to prove the strength behind softness and emotion. I hadn’t heard lyrics like those before in any other song I’d ever listened to. It’s so blatantly sexual but interweaves the emotion which often goes hand in hand with intimacy. The power of wanting to touch somebody you know you can’t brilliantly highlights the power of sexuality in love and captures the emotion behind the lust. It’s an incredibly mature approach to a love song. It sounds real, raw and emotional. This also comes through in the music – the long chords, slow tempo and minor key stretch out the deep sensuality of the track. The constant vibrato in the chorus played by Phil Collen is actually both him and Steve Clark playing, as it was too difficult for one person. The technique worked well to produce a unique, powerful resonance and a hauntingly beautiful song.

Armageddon It has possibly the happiest chorus ever. It’s another of those songs that evokes a sense of euphoria, stemming from the harmonies and chord progression. The verses are studded with punchy guitar parts, giving way to a pre-chorus which builds and explodes in enough harmonized happiness to envelop even the most miserable of souls.

Think you might lose interest halfway through the B Side? Nope, you get smacked across with face with Run Riot and Don’t Shoot Shotgun, the most energetic fillers I think I’ve ever heard on a record. The electricity of Run Riot is utterly contagious, whilst Don’t Shoot Shotgun is less energetic but more melodic, but both make you feel equally exhausted after only listening. That doesn’t matter because you then have the calming serenity of the title track itself.

I’m beginning to sound like a broken record (geddit) but Hysteria is an exquisite song, and one of my favourites on the album. The moment the first bar of the riff starts, it’s impossible not to melt into a delirious puddle of relaxation. It’s something in the riff, the chord progression, the resonance – it’s so difficult not to fall in love with this song when it’s a song about falling in love. Not just falling in love, going mad with love. “Dream me off my feet” is the line which, for me, perfectly captures the feeling of dancing through the feeling of loving somebody.

I’ve mentioned nearly every track on the album, but Gods of War has always felt slightly separate from the rest of the songs. This album really has it all – strip club vs heartbreak, the restless impatience of youth and nuclear war! Gods of War is certainly topical for the period during which it was written, containing audios of ‘Maggie Thatcher, milk snatcher’ and the sounds of machine gun fire and falling bombs. Nearly a whole minute of anticipation before that bass kicks in, followed by one of the best riffs I reckon Steve Clark ever wrote. The riff is one of the standout elements of the song for me; I mentioned before about that feeling of euphoria, and this guitar riff has it in spades. The song carries this feeling right through to the last chorus and the delicious Photograph-esque descending scale sung by Mr Elliott. It’s genuinely hard to quantify the sheer wall of power that is this song. It’s the perfect balance of meaning and melody.

Hysteria is an incredible, incredible album. It’s well produced, well written and worth the four-year hellfest that was its’ creation. Try to find somebody who doesn’t like even one song on the record –  bet you a tenner you won’t find anyone.

I only recently got properly into Toto – I’d grown up listening to Rosanna and Africa, but I wasn’t aware of many other songs of theirs. It wasn’t until I heard Africa properly that I went away and found more of their songs. Suffice to say, I’m glad I did. I found many songs by them that I adored, but Stop Loving You stood out the most. Primarily because of the melody, the sheer euphoria I feel whenever I hear it, and the vocals..

 Joseph Williams’ voice is exceptional – I loved his singing even before I found out that he voiced adult Simba in Hakuna Matata, a fact that increased my general happiness by approximately 78%. Lyrically, I’ve always been caught between wondering if Stop Loving You is sweet or vaguely obsessive, (“I won’t stop till I’m through loving you”) but even if it does ere on the creepier side, Williams, unlike Sting, manages to make an obsessive song sound happy and not like he’s looking through your window with a telescope. This is probably my favourite Williams song, tied with Pamela, possibly the snazziest take on a guilt trip I’ve ever heard (“don’t break this heart of mine, it may not heal this time”).

As well as the main vocals being clean and precise on this record, another element to note is those legendary Toto harmonies, also exhibited on tracks from Africa to I’ll Be Over You to Dying On My Feet. The combination of Lukather, Paich and Porcaro result in a unique sound which has become part of the Toto trademark. These harmonies are present on Stop Loving You, combined effortlessly with an irresistible melody which in turn produces a beautifully intrinsic wall of vocal loveliness.

Perhaps the fact that each member was a well-respected session musician means that there is no shortage of songwriting talent in Toto; they’re one of those bands at whom I’m amazed at their unending originality, which is helped of course by the instrumentation. Steve Lukather’s distortion amp is a perfect contrast to the soft keyboard sounds created by Paich. The synthesizers manage to give the tune an overarching tone of happiness and jollity, despite the message of the lyrics being one of frustration. All of this is tied together by the unique and world-class drumming of Jeff Porcaro, resulting in a stellar level of timeless music.

Stop Loving You is an amazing song, which can be played over and over, and yet one can still find something new within it. There really is little I can find that’s wrong with this song. Aside from anything else, Joe Williams’ mullet in the music video is just magnificent.