Phonomancy Mixtape 3: The Holy Dark

Phonomancy Mixtape #3: The Holy Dark

1. Tom Waits - "Way Down in the Hole" - Franks Wild Years


AWHENYA WAWK THREW TH' GAHDEN! YEW GOTTA WAHTCH YAW BACK!

Nowadays best known as the theme to Possible-Best-Show-Ever The Wire, with a different version for each of its five seasons, the original version by demon-voiced troubadour Tom Waits was used to open Season 2, which focused on drug smuggling and was devised by the creator to be "a mediation on the death of work and the betrayal of the American working class". Fittingly, Waits's version is sinister and understated, with gentle tambourine rattles at the very back underscoring the slinky horn section, and features the man himself in fine voice, demanding his procession fear God and All His Angels like a preacher in a cheap white suit. No less is expected from Waits, the poet laureate of America's seedy blue-collar underbelly.

2. Peter Gabriel - "Come Talk to Me" - Us

I've already talked about this before with regards to Bon Iver's cover, so I won't go into too much detail here. The original does contain everything you need to know about Peter Gabriel - bizarrely beautiful lyrics that sound like an Eliot poem ("With reptile tongue/the lightning lashes/towers built to last", "The earthly power/sucks shadowed milk/from sleepy tears undone"), a massive arrangement that draws upon world music and overstretches itself (it opens with bagpipes, features an African choir, and somehow crams a duduk solo before the song's out), and a big emotional plea to ground it all. This is what saves Gabriel from merely being pretentious - he sings with genuine love and passion.

One final comment: the lyrics make more sense for this than Bon Iver's, considering it's about Gabriel trying to reach through to his daughter, rather than a lover as Justin Vernon appears to be.

3. The Rolling Stones - "Gimme Shelter" - Let it Bleed

There's probably a High Canon of songs associated with the Vietnam War by now, and I'd be very surprised if this isn't in there. Written and recorded during the American campaign, it's dark and moody like a gathering thunderstorm, with Jagger and Merry Clayton singing of an oncoming hurricane of bullets and napalm and screaming babes. It's just so...ominous and foreboding; I can almost smell the sweat and Agent Orange. The song really belongs to Clayton, who allegedly suffered a miscarriage after laying down the vocals. It's just so powerful and brilliant, the Stones have tried to fill the gap with Florence Welch, Mary J. Blige and (most bafflingly of all) Lady Gaga, but - as with so many things - the original just can't be topped.

4. Gackt - "Birdcage" - Crescent

A few years ago, I was crazy into J-rock. It was melodic, it was daring, it was grandiose; goddamnit, this is what rock was meant to be! The obsession petered out a while ago, due to a few factors: 1) My discovering the classics of rock and pop; 2) All those melodramatic ballads where the singer shrieks over an orchestra tended to blur together; 3) X Japan taking too fucking long with that comeback album. (Seriously, any day now guys.)

Gackt was one of my favourite musicians during this time, and while I don't listen to him that much, he still earns a place in my iPod. He's like the Japanese David Bowie - androgynous and artsy, capable of elevating films by his mere presence, and more than willing to try new things musically. Crescent, his 2003 masterpiece, is the best example of this, an eclectic mix of folk, prog, hard and art rock. "Birdcage" is unusual on its own merits - it starts as a gentle acoustic, and then, around the 2:20 mark, a squall of electric guitar enters, and it turns into a completely different song, all high-tempo drums and manic violin. It works surprisingly well and builds to a nice conclusion, guided along by Gackt's melodramatic lyric.

5. Scott Walker - "The Seventh Seal" - Scott 4

The doomed magnum opus of Walker's time in the 60s. Consisting entirely of self-penned material, Scott 4 failed to chart anywhere, despite its composer's status as pop music's premiere brooding artist; given that it was released under his birth name of Noel Scott Engel, it probably isn't that surprising. While I love this record, it does lean towards the self-indulgent a few times, and I can sort of see why the few who did buy it might have been jaded. There aren't any major pop hooks, the songs just kind of drift in their own little worlds. Scott was studying Gregorian chant and lieder (German romantic songs) while working on it, making them more European than his other work at the time, and hinting at his modern albums that lead the viewer into little universes of their own.

"The Seventh Seal" is in the same vein. The melodic structure of the verses remains constant throughout, with the accompaniment gradually unfolding into a more storming, rousing Spaghetti Western-esque backdrop. Not the one I'd have chosen for a song that's literally a re-telling of Ingmar Bergman's masterpiece, but hey, it works. This was the first Scott Walker song I ever heard, and it won me over right away. It's self-indulgent and ambitious, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

6. Gackt - "Mizérable" - The Sixth Day: Single Collection


Gackt's debut single, this version is from a 2004 compilation and was re-recorded to match his deepened voice (probably due to his smoking habit). I have to say I prefer this one over the original, since Gackt is better as a baritone with occasional bursts of tenor-ness, and it makes him distinct among the many, many, many J-rock pretty boys out there.

Goddamn do I love these strings. I've toyed with the idea of learning the violin for a while now, and I think this song is why - they give the song a strong opening, they're lush and romantic when they need to be and become crazy awesome at about 2:48, just as energetic as a guitar solo.

7. David Bowie - "Where Are We Now?" - The Next Day

I remember getting the news from this in the morning, checking Twitter then Facebook then the official Bowie page to confirm that no, this isn't a put-on, the Dame is coming back to music, he did it in a way that nobody saw coming, and you can get the new song right now. Having gotten used to the idea of Bowie never releasing new material after Reality in 2003, this was like Christ coming back on the third day for me. I was so happy.

Bowie's choice of a lead-off single, "Where Are We Now?", was an unusual choice - it's a slow-tempo ballad from an album mostly dominated by rock n' roll, it doesn't have obvious (or even any) commercial appeal, and his voice is frail and plaintive. Some assumed his fragile vocals were signs he wasn't up for a comeback, but he's been peddling that voice out for a while now. This one took a while to warm up to, to get used to and identify all the textures and layers within, but oh boy was it worth it. Poignant, sad, yet hopeful, it's a sign that Bowie has aged gracefully, and that his music has evolved and matured with him.

8. The Smiths - "How Soon is Now?" - Hatful of Hollow

Everyone has a Smiths phase when they're young. They just had this knack of encompassing the heartaches and tribulations of being a bright young thing within a series of perfect pop songs. Yes, as much as I dislike that pretentious miserable contrarian old sod Morrissey, his lyrics are some of the best I've heard. "It takes guts to be gentle and kind" is my creed.

"How Soon is Now?" is just the best synthesis of everything great about The Smiths - Johnny Marr's sterling vibrato guitar work, and Morrissey's artful, passionate writing. A lot of Morrissey's work has connections to gay culture, but this is so universal; whether it's a guy from Manchester bursting to come out, or a disenfranchised girl in Sussex wanting someone anyone to notice her, it fits together so nicely.

9. Kanye West ft. Lupe Fiasco - "Touch the Sky" - Late Registration

Kanye West is the idiot savant of rap music. In interviews, he has no filter, no little angel on his shoulder to stop him saying absolute clunkers and taking potshots at his contemporaries, and I don't think I'll truly get what he sees in Kim Kardashian and what makes him think, "Y'know what? She'll totally never leave me!" As a musician, though? He's one of the best producers in the game, more than making up for his weak flow and endearingly banal lines. Let me put it this way - for a while, I didn't listen to a lot of hip-hop, and I rarely bought whole albums. Come My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy, I purchased the whole thing.

Late Registration is the second part of what's referred to roughly as the "College Dropout Trilogy" of Kanye albums, coming in between The College Dropout and Graduation. Kanye definitely stepped his game up for the sophomore effort - he brought in film composer Jon Brion to create a more intricate textured sound, got in some top players in music (Jamie Foxx, Adam Levine, Cam'ron, Nas and Jay-Z) to make guest appearances, and added some pretty funny skits about the fictional fraternity Broke Phi Broke (WE AIN'T GOT IT!), who take pride in having no money or girlfriends.

"Touch the Sky" opens with one hell of a bang - a slowed-down sample of "Movin' On Up" by Curtis Mayfield that gives the song the right amount of opulence and cool. The lyrics themselves are your typical rags-to-riches narrative, coloured by Kanye's trademark ego ("I was havin' nervous breakdowns/Like 'Man, these niggas that much better than me?'") - decent, but nothing remarkable. Then Lupe Fiasco swoops in and runs away with the track, referencing Lupin III, Thundercats and Mrs Butterworth's syrup in 16 bars, seemingly without effort. Awesome.

(Also, if you're one of those people who joke about how rap is spelt with a silent 'C', do me a favour and punch yourself in the face.)

10. John Cale - "Hallelujah" - I'm Your Fan

Ah, back before "Hallelujah" was touched by The X Factor and everyone grew really fucking tired of it. I'm willing to bet most, if not all of you, first heard this in Shrek, and were perplexed as to why this version wasn't on the soundtrack. John Cale's cover first appeared closing out a Leonard Cohen tribute album by French music magazine Les Inrockuptibles, and it's Cale's piano arrangement that has proved the most enduring - it formed the basis of Jeff Buckley's ever-popular cover. Where Cohen sounded beaten down and weary on the original, Cale sings with haunting sincerity. Where Cohen's moves at a funereal tempo, Cale's has a steady drive to it. The original is like a gospel, with percussion, choir, bass and keyboard; Cale's is a simple piano hymn sung by a devout believer.