there is a project on campus that is led by the philosophy department called hooks, where they ask for submissions about why songs/literature/movies/art are compelling, and why you find a particular work compelling. some cool examples from the past? the vocal line in "twist and shout" or the bass line in "i will possess your heart." i am more of a "big picture" kind of person, which is reflected in what i talk about (i think). these are the hooks that i wrote last night. download links in the titles, and videos at the end. if you haven't heard the song before or aren't very familiar with it, i suggest listening to the song, reading, and then listening again.
A simple ethereal vocal line drifts in alongside the tentatively slurring guitar line, setting the stage. Isolated and mournful harmonies add to the somber tone that meanders before ultimately reaching the jarring full-band unison of the first chorus. The bottom suddenly drops out and the subsequent crescendo of the drums, halfway through the chorus, lends itself to the growing grief elicited from the reminiscent nature of the lyrics. The recurrent ebb and flow of volume, contrasting drastically between verse and chorus, mirrors the dynamic nature of the singer’s emotional response to the matter at hand. A false hope of resolution and finality occurs at the 2:45 mark, only to be followed by the most heart-wrenching thirty seconds of the song, the one exception to the lull of the troughs and peaks preceding it, with the only verse that maintains the same level of emotional anguish through to the raucous chorus. The grief hangs static over the full sound of the entire band, with vocals, spoken expression straining to be heard over the instrumental strife beneath.
Neutral Milk Hotel, “Holland, 1945”
The opening measures start out in a stereotypically rock and roll fashion, raspy voice counting off “two, one, two, three, four” over a metrically driven instrumental line. With abrupt lyrical phrases that do not necessarily match breaks in thought or expression, the first line is misleadingly turning the listener’s expectations on their heads. “The only I girl I ever loved,” despite expected genre-based conventions is not introducing a love song, as the listener would anticipate, but rather a grotesque scene where our subject is “born with roses in her eyes.” Though this line is still somewhat cryptic and could be construed as merely symbolic, the subsequent line “but then they buried her alive - one evening, 1945” removes any remaining doubt that the nature of the subject matter at hand is steeped in morbidity. The persistent muted trumpets add an element of frivolity in opposition to the severe, macabre imagery, thus creating a backdrop of flighty irreverence in response to the somber nature of the lyrical composition. This interplay of expectations and execution adds to the mounting discomfort that is instilled in the listener as the final measures are passed back and forth between voices. As the instrumental lines amble around a resolution, they finally grow into an almost imperceptibly off-kilter final chord, leaving the listener with a sense of unease.
a lot of strange videos came up with this song as the background, but i thought it was important to have a studio version of the song, not a live one, for reference.
Manchester Orchestra, “I Can Feel A Hot One”
Simple, repeating guitar progressions carry on beneath Andy Hull’s tenuous and hesitant voice, a voice which feels more spoken than it does contrived or produced. As the uncertainty in his words begins to clear and acceptance that “I’ll face the fact that I’m just fine” rises to the surface, the complexity of the composition parallels the increasing complexity of his interplaying emotions. As increasing levels of intricacy compound, different trains of thought existing alongside one another, the vocals begin to layer in over one another in harmony. The addition of sorrowful strings, a few stray hi-hats and the occasional drum pedal later, the composition blossoms into a complicated landscape of weaving vocals and increasing instrumental involvement out of what had started out as a simple dialogue. The lyrical styling offers a dimension of vulnerability that is often lost in studio renditions or that is found only in intimate, live performances. The candid nature of the song creates a sense that the listener is eavesdropping, as if listening in on someone’s private thoughts, full of inner dialogue that riddled with retrospective musings such as “[if] enough is never quite enough, what’s enough?” As realizations mount, harmonies become more adventurous before being shaken off in favor of a sing-along worthy final reprise, quelling all of the variances into simple, straightforward succession.
this embedding on this video is disabled, but it is worth seeing - so go watch!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5i01O0wMCr0
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