Losing My Religion by REM

watch the original film clip here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=if-UzXIQ5vw

It’s hard to define exactly why this song is so great. How much can a video clip influence our reaction to a song? It was certainly the standout music video of the decade, and remains one of the best clips ever. Like a Hollywood Epic crammed into a few minutes, the song is both majestic in scope and acutely personal, evoking thoughts of loss and failure throughout the ages.

Besides, who can resist a mandolin?

In reading Peter Buck’s liner notes of this song for In Time: The Best Of REM, he said that the band members themselves sometimes do not have a full literal meaning of their songs. They connect with the feel of the song, or the collage of images that the song creates. Sometimes, all that you have is a word, or phrase that triggers an image, which provokes an emotional response in alignment with the feel of the song.

The ambiguous lyrics of Buck and Stipe are often intentional, inviting the listener to explore their own interpretation. Some believe that the song refers to the profound guilt and remorse the singer feels about the disintegration of a relationship due to some untold wrong doing. The phrase ‘losing my religion’ is apparently a saying from the deep south of America, meaning to lose one’s temper, get extremely angry or frustrated, or to feel totally overwhelmed and helpless. This certainly does correspond to the shattered relationship interpretation. However, I still relate to this song in the ‘big-picture’ way.

This is more than a song about one or two people. It is a song of many, of mankind, and our collective relationships. This song speaks to me about loss, regret, failure and its implications for the future on a grand scale. As Humanity splinters and cracks along the forks and cross roads, both discovered and created, this is the soundtrack that accompanies the footage of the wrong path taken. This the tune Judas was humming two thousand years ago when he and Jesus hatched their ambitious plot together. When Einstein ran from The Fat Man and a Little Boy in Manhattan, he was found cowering in the dark, clutching a compass and a violin, and whistling this tune. And in some parallel universe Stephen Hawking screams this song with rage and fury, at the difference between what is, and what could be.

This is monumental defeat on the big stage. Whether you are facing up to the loss of a loved one, or knowing you will never face the one you love, or spending your final moments staring down the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, this is the deep sense of loss and remorse over potential unfulfilled. This is the realisation that you have nothing left. You can neither give nor receive. Everything you believed in has been proved not only to be false, but a total sham right from the start.

Losing My Religion is one of those rare songs where everything converges and meshes correctly. A song where the lyrics, the singing, the music, and the visuals are all aligned in perfection. The story is told that Buck purchased a mandolin, which led to the melody, which lent itself to the phrasing of the chorus. Stipe then completed the lyrics in five minutes, a subconscious streaming on paper, and later recorded the vocal performance on the first take. The Indian/Renaissance video clip is visually stunning and is the secret ingredient that brings out the flavour of everything else in the song.

When everything blends so smoothly, and fits so perfectly, well... Perhaps religion has been found.

Ever Heard Of Steve Poltz?

“Ever heard of Steve Poltz?” Probably not. Didn’t he write that song with that woman? Yes, he wrote You Were Meant For Me with Jewel. But there is so much more to him than That Song. The spirit of troubadours and minstrels live on in Steve Poltz. He regularly travels the world, sharing stories and songs of love, death, pain, happiness and laughter.

That Song was not my first introduction to Poltz. I purchased One Left Shoe, based on the look and feel of the cover. I was not disappointed, and over a decade later those songs still make it to playlists and mixed tapes. Over the years I’ve picked up most of his albums, both solo, and in his previous life with the cult band, The Rugburns. It wasn’t until I purchased Mommy I’m Sorry that I realised my very first introduction to him was watching a cover of Sesame Street on some music show. We never got the name of the band, and never saw the clip again.

A Steve Poltz album gives you everything; excellent musicianship, melodies and words rich in texture, with a keen eye for observation. He has an actor’s feel for drama, and a comedian’s sense of timing, with a quirky sense of humour. And he genuinely enjoys sharing all this and more with a live audience.

Steve played The Northcote Social Club on January 22nd, a venue he enjoys returning to. The NSC is a very comfortable, easy place to hang out, being able to enjoy a quiet drink with friends before the show, watching the unusual, weird, and wonderful denizens amble through – none more freaky than the bar staff.

I drifted into the stage bar around 9.15 to catch the support act, Kate Walker. A very gifted guitar player, and singer, Kate was well supported by friends and fans. Two standout songs remain with me. A wry ode to a friend, I Liked You Better Before You Found God, and a breathtaking cover of Over The Rainbow/What A Wonderful World. Kate is as good as anyone you hear on the radio – her biggest step will be in managing self-consciousness on stage, self -confidence once in the songs end, and to develop an entertainer’s presence on stage as a performer. Having said that, it was a strong set and received rousing applause from the gathering crowd.

Steve comes on stage around 10.15 pm and from the first note his enthusiasm is infectious. For the next two and a bit hours he has the audience in the palm of his hand – laughing, singing, and sometimes in total silence as he weaves his way through his repertoire.

I saw him at this venue around the same time last year, getting the crowd in the mood with his intro vox-pop video “Ever Heard Of Steve Poltz?” before exploding into Chinese Checkers that set the scene for the evening. He blew me away with two songs that night, a cover of Dylan’s Forever Young, sung with the effervescent Bushwalla, and my personal request, Salvation Song. There was no Salvation Song this night, but there were equally impressive renditions of his standards, like Once Again, I Killed Walter Matthau, and The Great Mystery, as well as a faultless version of She Moved Through The Fair. He played songs from his most recent album, Dreamhouse (retailers, why is this cd so hard to find?), and that other well known song, You Remind Me, yes, the Jeep ad song. He didn’t play That Song, but no one noticed, such was the energy and passion that he devotes to his set lists.

Steve Poltz transfers his energy and passion to the crowd, encouraging audience participation if and when he can. From his epic Rugburns song Dick’s Automotive, with added baritone and falsetto, to the hands across the world finale of Long Haul, with hilarious commentary, he has that uncanny ability to conscript members of the audience and happily get them out of their comfort zone for a short while, to since or dance, or share a laugh. In turn, he helps them express who they really are.

Clothing is another form of self expression. Have you ever noticed that people like to wear band tee shirts to gigs? I do. I guess it’s a bit vain, it’s a bit of a status thing; look at me, this is who I am and who I like. Can it make a difference to the gig? It did for me. I’d worn one of my favourites – a Big Star tee shirt. Big Star: one of the best ‘unknown bands’ that have influenced countless numbers over the years. I was overwhelmed when Steve Poltz dedicated his cover of Thirteen to Big Star’s late, great Alex Chilton, who passed away in 2010. As always, I purchase a copy of the show on USB, and hang back to pick up an extra cd or offer thanks for a great performance. When I spoke with Steve briefly after his set, I’m not sure who was more gob-smacked: him for seeing someone with a Big Star tee shirt, or me for having one idol play one of my top ten favourite songs. The beauty of Steve is that he appreciates the awe us fans have for our rock stars. He makes a point of getting around to as many people as he can, sincerely acknowledging their support and interested in their comments or questions. And he backs that message up professionally. This show was his last public gig in Australia. But he was performing again – in someone’s lounge or backyard. You see, subject to availability, you can book him for your own private gig. Sure, he doesn’t make much from it – but it keeps him grounded, and connected to his fans. Just like the minstrels of old...

Ever heard of Steve Poltz? You have now. The rest is up to you.

From The Royal Mail To The Forum: Paul Weller

From The Royal Mail To The Forum: Paul Weller

I am a massive Paul Weller fan. And I didn’t even realise it until a few days ago. I mean, I’ve always liked him, and regularly include his songs on mixed compilations. But it finally dawned on me just how much Paul Weller stuff I have. In anticipation of his concert, I began listening to various songs on my iPod. I have a couple of The Jam albums, all of The Style Council, and most of his solo work. In fact, as I look back, Paul Weller has played, and will play, a significant role in the key moments of my adult life.

As a young man I was hooked on A Town Called Malice and That’s Entertainment. They were the type of songs I wished I could write. Sadly, my efforts didn’t even come close. For our wedding, my wife and I chose You’re The Best Thing, which is still a very special song for us. I still remember the DJ we hired did not have a copy of the song, so he bought the album. It makes me laugh now as I recall he announced the married couple to the dance floor and played track 9, not track 10. For those not familiar with Cafe Bleu, track 9 is the rather unwedding- like Strength Of Your Nature. Across the other side of the room, we were frantically waving (and laughing) at him to stop. Finally, he stopped, apologised, announced the married couple again, and then proceeded to play the exact same song again. This went on another two or three times. In the end I had to go over to him, put his headphones on him, point out track 10, and let him hear the song properly. Shouldn’t he have played the song prior to the wedding reception? There was rapturous applause when, at last, we hit the dance floor to You’re The Best Thing. Of special significance to me is the song Brand New Start, which is one of the many songs that feature on my Funeral CD (but that’s another story).

So, it was with much excitement that I caught a train into the city to see Weller. As it was a warm day, I’d decided to meet Scog at the Royal Mail, in West Melbourne. The Royal Mail is just past a short walk from Flagstaff Station. When I say just past a short walk, I mean it is just enough past a short walk in order to build up a healthy thirst, loathe joggers, and appreciate cabs. The Royal Mail is a quiet and unassuming inner city pub, of the old school type. Most of the patrons are locals, and newcomers are greeted happily and welcomed. Everyone dips in and out of each other’s conversations. It’s not flashy or pretentious, and it delivers exactly what it should every time – a perfect cold beer on a hot day. It seemed like the perfect place to be before a Paul Weller concert. The idea was to have a few quiet beers between 5.30 and 7pm and then Scog would make his way to the station and I’d wander on down to The Forum. By 8pm, I was still caught up watching Scog play pool, and chatting about music, football, and family. I called it quits at 8.40 pm and stumbled out to catch a cab to The Forum.

The atmosphere was fantastic. I’m not sure if the people who had seats at the back paid more for them, but I reckon if they did, they were robbed. The real excitement was the standing room right in front of the stage. Perfect viewing, a bit of banter, and a short push and shove to the bar. Although, after taking out a second mortgage to pay for the two Jack Daniels, I decided I’d had enough to drink for the night.

Weller swaggered onto the stage, belting out tracks from his latest album, Wake Up The Nation, as well as from As Is Now. This was no Greatest Hits compilation – I suspect he chooses which songs to play carefully. And, at 52, Weller could easily settle for touring around with Hits and Memories, with such a vast songbook of popular tunes. It is a credit to him that he writes as good as ever, and he plays his songs with such passion and energy, that both old and new mesh together so well. A few songs in and Weller was well settled, alternately chewing gum, smoking, smirking, and singing, with a voice that hasn’t lost any of its vibrancy, or aggression.

The crowd helped to step it up a notch, getting into Shout To The Top, and That’s Entertainment. But, for me, the performances of You Do Something To Me, and Brand New Start were brilliant, as was Fast Car/Slow Traffic and Wake Up The Nation, which showcased the excellence of his backing band. The truth is, it was a perfect set. Each song fitted in place to enhance the whole show.

It was clear that Weller was enjoying himself, too; returning for four encores, including a superb acoustic session. There were a few murmurs about why A Town Called Malice was omitted from the set. Each to their own. The band were so good at what they did, that it was a privilege to watch them play anything. Weller should be congratulated for not being predictable, and having the courage to take some of his more complex arrangements on the road. And, after all, he is The Modfather – he’ll sing you a song you can’t refuse.

Ps: If you don’t own any Weller, you can get Hit Parade, which is a compilation of his better known songs across his whole career. If you can’t afford all his albums but want a deeper insight than Hit Parade, then I suggest three compilations: Compact Snap (The Jam), The Style Council Collection, and Modern Classics (solo work). That should keep you happy for a while.