It's been a while since I've written a Don't Judge a Song by its Cover.
I cover a lot of rock, and usually nothing that has you thinking pop music. I'm kind into the hipster indie stuff. Despite being a rural kid, am a fan of "mad beats" and I do like electronica like music. Maybe I haven't gotten into the club stuff, and today I'm going to be talking about more of modern R&B I suppose. It's from 2005, but I'm not sure there has been much evolution in pop music over the past decade. I'm just going to be talking about Don't Cha, it has quite a history. It's production actually is what initially cuaght my interest.
It would seem that the song takes it's main hook from Seattle based rapper Sir Mix-a-lot's Swass. Where he says, "Don't cha think your boyfriend was swas like me!" What does "swass" means? Swass definition: An adjective that is used to discribe Sir Mix-a-lot. Hmmm, well how about that.

Music industry is a weird thing, this song was written by Cee-Lo Green. He's known for singing Crazy, which is a song that I have a high opinion of. Alright, he's talented. But he's not going to be performing a song that's from the perspective of a woman trying to seduce a taken man. That is where little known singer Tori Alamaze comes in, she got first dibs on this song before the Pussycat Dolls got sloppy seconds. And they would cover this song the same year that Alamaze released her single with the song on it. Also because Alamaze music didn't move off the shelves fast enough, she got dropped from the label and quickly forgotten.

Tori Alamaze version:

Wow, the sound quality quality is not so great here. That may just be due to the fact that it's youtube and youtube tends to fuck with recording quality. But it's also possible that it actually was poorly produced. But it basicly starts in with that clap/snare and Tori Alamaze begins singing, her voice is powerful enough and the song has it's slow tempo. The chords are simple, they have them ring sustian and fade. musically much more attention was given to the rhythm. It's a very percussive song, the melody is completely up to the singer. There's this triangle bit that is a little bit annoying, it's obviously pitch shifted. But it's not a huge concern and I like the concept, it just doesn't quite work. The song is so simple and stripped to the bones musically, this gives more focus on the singer. And that's not a bad thing. I like back up singers echo repeating. I guess anything to fill in the blank space. I guess a little rapping(?) bit around the end. On the one hand that helps add a slight bit of variation to the composition. But all they do is take away all musical. Then there is no melody or change in key. It's just Tori Alamaze speaking slowly. It just takes a song that is slow, it's comfortably slow but then draws in into this crawl. But Tori is a good singer, so when she's singing it does manage to carry the song well enough. 

Pussycat Dolls version:

It starts in with similar percussion, and some rapper. It's Busta Rhymes,  I don't know much about rap music. In the Youtube video I see in the side a complete recording of his Anarchy album, so I assume he was involved in that somehow. That's the extension of my research today.
Now I know what you're thinking, could the Pussycat Dolls possibly be some how related to Monarch mindcontrol, specifically the sex-kitten mindslave branch of those conspiracy theories. Yeah, probably. With a name like Pussycat DOLLS, it's just... yeah Monarch isn't exactly known for its subtly.
Moving on though, to less interesting things. Other than Busta Rhymes what does this cover bring that it's failed predecessor didn't have. It brought a bit more, more melodic emphasis. Personally I really love the horns in the chorus, "bah bah bah bah-bah bah!" I just like silly little things like that, kind of reminds me of the original Tears for Fears Mad World, it kind of sounds like a slowed down version of the electro-trumpets in eighties Mad World actually, I dig it. there's more musical punctuation in the Pussycat version of Don't Cha, which gives more distinction throughout the song.
But what about the singer, Pussycat Dolls lead singer is Nicole Scherzinger. I don't think her performance is significantly different from Alamaze. They're both competent singers. I want there to be subtle differences in the way they express themselves, but I'm not picking up on anything significant.
Busta Rhymes has two verses in this one. And I am neither impressed no distressed by his presence too much. It's better than what Tori Alamaze did with her little rap bit. Even though both put the melodic and actual musical key on puase Busta's just quicker, has more energy and that makes up for the muted music. But lyrically he's just saying things I've heard in most other pop rap songs that are about relationships.

Which do I prefer?

Is there a better song here, or one that I prefer? Eh, this isn't exactly my vain of music. I kind of understand why the cover version did better. It's slightly more interesting, there's more going on here. The instrumentation helps define the song a bit more. In a way the previous versions sounds like a rough draft. Despite his, and perhaps because of it... I actually like the first version better. The song should be vocal focal. And I don't feel like Scherzinger surpassed Alamaze vocally.

I used to have a bit of wit. And now my wit is shit. See that's as clever as I will ever get. I'm out of ideas, I haven't written anything is months. It's bullshit. I once had a this semblance of clever wordplay, now I just have a hamper of dirty laundry and I don't even fuckn' know what else. Probably scabies. Scaby baby.

I'm not in Boston anymore. I'm still dating this girl. I've been thinking of trying to write a little micro/short story but I haven't had the ability to get it off the ground. It's startling. I found this site, I Write Like. And if you put in two of your works your going to get two seperate authors, the only way to know for sure is to take several pieces and put them through the site. I got Corey Doctorow, he's not a real doctor or a real row. Or a row of doctors, I don't know who this dipshit is.

I enjoyed this site at a time. I always had a response, but these days. I got nothing, nothing in the ways of words. You know what I've wanted to do. I've wanted to go outside and work with my hands. I've decided I don't want to work indoors, no office jobs for me. No retail or factory work. Actually I worked in a factory for a day. That wasn't to bad, physical work is pretty good. It's really zen like. Here's the thing, being outside and working with the world, the earth and the plants. There's something spiritual and freeing about it. It feels cleaner outside, it's always fresher.

Words aren't for me. I've witnessed poets expressing themselves through their artfully chosen phrases and rhythms. I have friends who aspire to be novalists. I don't have that in me. I don't feel bad for lacking it. Although, I truly appreciate it and admire the wordsmiths, poets and writers.

I'm in Boston now. And I'm just happy with how things are unfolding. It's pretty good.

I'm not in Bangor anymore. I'm now in Boston. Home of the... beans or whatever. I'm not majoring in whatever it was I was supposedly studying. Communications Technology, Journalism, Audio Engineering... or whatever. It just wasn't for me. I'm not an academic or whatever.

I'll start this off with somthing obvious. The Arctic Monkeys are everyone's favorite indie band or whatever.

This has to be my favorite song by them, but I have to admit, I'm more impressed with the music video than the song itself. The song is simple and the video seems to start off simple as well. But as the song picks up energy and depth the animations become increasingly complex. The Knife makes some of the most horrifying music videos. I remember watching this a year ago and being thoroughly terrified.  

Yeah there's some BDSM undertones to make things a bit more uncomfortable for vanilla minded people. But damn, it's just a scary music video over all!

If that seemed a little trippy than it's only getting trippier. Next I want to show you this Lorn music video is the one for the ever sparkly and happy song Ghosst(s)  

I really like that style, the way things morph makes for an especially interesting flow of the graphical animation with the rhythm, melody and tone of the music. This animation originally made for a Blockhead music video is similar.  

Very nice... but could it be improved on? Apparently, I think that who ever thought to put it to Zeds Dead's remix of The Moody Blues Nights in White Satin really hit the tone and expression of the video right on.  

Another great video of transformation evolution and visual psychodelia. The animation is perfectly influenced and reflective of the music in this song called Love and Theft by Heiko Maile.  

Yeah, at the moment I've got nothing to top that.

It's time for a spooky little tune called... Spooky. It was originally performed by Classics IV, named such because they're the fourth classic rock band to ever exist. But it was originally written as an instrumental by saxophonist Mike Shapiro. Well, shouldn't that be the original. Well, they used Shapiro's original mix, Classics IV simply wrote and added the lyrics. The song was very popular, and I certainly understand why. Classics IV were from Jacksonville Florida, which might be the least terrifying city in the state of Florida.

It starts with it's guitar rift, it's simple minor key. But with a catchy rhythm. The rhythm makes this song, the light tapping I'm not sure if it's a rimclick or a clave, but it starts of really smooth. And that's the atmosphere of the song. I particularly like when the lyrics come in, and there's this backing vocals that's just, “ooooooo~ooooooo”. The lyrics are great, just this song about this girlfriend that's kind of difficult to read. The saxophone solo is amazing, it's got a real punch I guess that's not a surprising given that it's written by a saxophonist. I love how at the end of each verse there's this break and a puase, in the first verse it emphasizes the pause when he asks her if she wants to meet up for a date and she says, “I have plans for the night...” but then the music has a short rest and when it picks up she's changed her mind, “Alight.” In the last verse it's used for comedic delivery, “you've been haunting my dreams, so I proposed... on Halloween.” The lyrics are clever and the song is catchy, naturally it would have a lot of covers and it did. But which one am I going to compare it to.

Lydia Lunch is a great artist. She creates weird music, jazz and punk influenced. She's done spoken which I appreciate and she never got much credit. She's considered kind of a Siouxsie Sioux clone, but they both came on the scene in the late seventies. Siousxie was in London and Lydia was in New York.
Lydia being the cutting edge arthaus musician that she is must have done some pretty outlandish stuff for this cover. Not really. The music is still has the same smooth sounding groove. They changed the pronouns, and now it's a “spooky little boy like you.” instead of “spooky little girl like you.” At first it seems like the “ooooo” vocals are replaced with a organ, which gives the same spooky vibe. But they just come in a little bit later. I think the biggest change is that instead of one saxophone, there's two in the solo. Which I guess means it's not really a solo... but it's a dueling sax battle or something.

How do they match up? Well, this cover is pretty faithful to the original. Given Lydia Lunch's reputation as an artist kind of makes that disappointing. Also two saxophones aren't necessary better than one. And yet, I'm charmed with the cover. I often feel like I'm that spooky little boy, who sends mixed signals and is awkward but adorable. Awkwardorable. I'm tempted to give tons of bonus points to the cover for that reason alone. Except the original is just really good. So just by a sliver the original wins this round.

Bonus cover:

I like Motown, and if there's two motown songs you should listen to than they should be My Guy and My Girl and I don't know, maybe neither of those songs. I don't know anything about music. So here's the original track.

My Guy, it's a simple song about a woman's devotion to her partner, the lyrics are entirely straight forward and simple. It's a motown standard, released in the mid sixties. horns organ and a jazzy rhythm. It's a classy song. It has a lot of instrumentation along with backing vocals to give it a full sound. Mary Wells sings the lyrics with sincerity and conviction. There's a lot I could say about how this influenced the motown genre along with soul and blues music. I could mention producer Smokey Robertsons part in it all, as he wrote a lot of music for the band The Miricles who Mary Wells sang for.

The cover this week is by Warpaint, and it's not an exact cover. It's titled Billie Holiday, although it adds some new lyrics including a chorus where they spell out the name Billie Holiday. They also have an extra verse in the beginning and a bridgelike verse at the end. In the beginning, it ends with the line, Well if you want to know me, I'm a war - Companion. But starts with As I walk this line, I am bound by the other side - And it's for my heart that I'll live.
At the end she repeats, If she wants to go, if he wants to go, if she wants to go, if he wants.

And why Billie Holiday? Billie Holiday is a torch singer from the thirties and forties. Torch music could be considered a very early precursor to motown so there's that. Torch is often associated with blues, always sung by woman but it tends to have a jazzy sound to it. It's associated with heartbreak and how men treat women badly. It really puts a spin on the song, which has a haunting taste to it, stripped back to just a guitar at first with a marching beat that comes in later. The lyrics sound desperate, as if the woman singing is being faithful despite some unsaid reason. Does she not love the man she's with? Does she love him, but he has someone else on the side and she suspects his infidelity? Or perhaps she really loves someone else, maybe she loves the guy she's with but she's also interested in another man but she chooses to stay with the first because she must. There are a lot of ways you could interpret the mood of this song.

So which is better? Motown is great, for the most part I love it. But My Girl isn't a terribly interesting song musically or conceptually. Warpaint takes the idea, turns it on it's head, makes it their own and gives it a completely new meaning. And they're successful in doing it. Point for the cover.

The theme song for this post.

You will never love me again. I've known for a long time, I knew before you left me. They might wonder why it matters at all. Because who you are now is not the woman I loved. I have not sought you out, I have made no serious attempt to contact you. I will not pursue you, because you can not and will not love me. But I can't forget the days when you did. I will tell about those days. I will explain my reality, it is the truest and deepest experience in intimacy I have ever stumbled on. For most people it seems sterile, just a blip nothing really meaningful. But for one as sheltered and lonely as I it was more than enough. I fear I will never recreate what we had. And for you, it meant nothing. You have proven yourself incapable of appreciating what we shared. You easily forgot it. All the more reason for me to hold on tightly, all alone. What you threw aside I will keep in your absence. And so we begin.

You loved me once, and you knew it the night we first slept together. It wasn't in a passionate embrace. It was much more gentle than that, in fact you were the one that held me. Later you claimed this was the moment that you realized that you liked me, you used the word love. A word you used many times, and I believed it. I still believe that for a short while you truly meant it when you told me you loved me. But we aren't quite there yet. A week would pass before we saw each other again. We met at a museum, we talked, it was pleasant but we hadn't really shown our hands to each other yet. I still wasn't convinced you really liked me, until you told me your middle name, right after saying, “You can't expect someone to be in love with you if they don't know your middle name.” Even I wasn't dense enough to miss your meaning. And yet I was still to timid to act.
We were to hang out with friends that night, before they showed up at your place we were alone together. You showed me your pictures from your trip to India, I played some music... a band that I still can't listen to, to this day. And when we began making out I'd awkwardly stop and express my opinions on the music. Because I still couldn't believe that it was really happening.
I was still too afraid to take the plunge, later that night I'd be too drunk to perform properly but I used other means to make sure you were satisfied. I'm not sure if that counted as the moment I lost my virginity, but if it wasn't I certainly wouldn't have to wait long, a few days later.
Until then there was our friends, and I wasn't sure if we should tell them but they could likely tell. You and I shared coy glances in there presence. When one of us walked past the other we'd brush past, I might feel your fingers softly move across my shoulders when you left the table.

I believe the next time we met after that weekend, I had gotten you a set of colored pencils I found in an art shop. They were hand carved. I knew you were an artist, and I'm always happy to support someone's artistic talent. We met in my dorm, I resided there alone at the time. And we talked, and we sat close to one another. And you looked into my eyes, and I looked into yours. Soon our lips were locked, and not long after that we made love. This time my fingers weren't required and it was passionate, it was expressive it was a confirmation and for me it was the first time I had ever experienced an orgasm inside of another person.
And we held each other for a long time afterward and you asked me, “Can I keep you?” And I said, “Of course.” I meant it, and I thought you meant it to. But there's a difference between, “Can I keep you forever?” and “Can I keep you for now?” I hoped for the former, but whether you realized it or not at the time, you meant the latter.

The next weekend everyone in our little circle knew. We didn't try to hide our affections in plain sight, as fun as those games were. Still I was uncomfortable flaunting it, and yet I was addicted to your touch, your kiss and your gaze. And at this time every whispered, “I love you.” Felt real, it felt tangible. I could have kept each of them with me, in my pocket. But “I love you”s are slippery and easy to lose. I only have a few left, in the forms of text messages. Some days I question if you ever said “I love you.” to me at all, so I need to check and make sure it's true. But the texts aren't accompanied with that sincere expression that you would show me when you truly meant it. I fear I'll forget it, but some nights it's all I can see... some nights it's haunting and I can't escape it, knowing I will never really see it again.

Valentine’s Day, to think I'd be lucky enough to be in love with someone on such a day. The peak of our relationship. I had never been so confident in my life, and never so sure that our love would stand the test of time. And yet, things could only go downhill from there.

The weekend after that was strange, ambiguous almost precarious. Perhaps I felt too comfortable and I wasn't expressing myself a way that asserted my feelings. I was too hyper, did I take things for granted? I know that it snowed Sunday night, and I stayed. We did speak of our past in more detail than we had before. Did my stories of innocence clash with your more world weary anecdotes. You said that we were meant to be though, that we came together at the perfect time. You also admitted that you expected you'd have more time to enjoy being single though. Despite that ominous detail we had sex Sunday night, it was passionate... but was it an expression of love? Was in necessary... maybe not. The next day we watched a movie and had sex again, this time I am certain it was unnecessary. We fucked, and it became awkward. It ended a bit abruptly though not with protest or obvious disappointment. But we didn't take pause to hold each other, to re-affirm that it was an action of love and not just a meaningless act. Your demeanor changed, and yet I don't recall the sexual act being forced, just awkward and perhaps poorly timed. Yet you promised we'd see each other over the next week, we'd have sushi.

We never did meet up for that sushi date, that week was different. Your attitude changed, you'd deny that our relationship was to blame. Can you be certain it wasn't part of it. The past weeks you'd actively send me texts and messages reassuring me that you felt that our relationship was impervious to divergent dangers. Now you hardly had any interest in me, you never used what I had come to assume was your favorite word anymore, “love”. This was the point that the doubts began to pile up, something had been unsurfaced and I was afraid to face it. But next weekend I would be at your place. It would be the last time I'd ever see you. I'm certain it will always be the last time we see each other.
You barely looked at me. As we hung out with friends you kept yourself just out of reach and made no effort to touch or kiss me. I was quarantined. I had to talk to you, I had to understand. I hoped it could be fixed, maybe things could still be salvaged and if not there needed to be resolution. I couldn't stand it, I had disappointed you and I still can't figure out quite how. There are many little ways, but it still doesn't add up.
But I wasn't imagining the distance between us. When I asked to talk alone with you, your reaction was indifferent, you maintained this facade that you loved me, but the mask didn't suit you. When you said “I love you but...” there was always a caveat, “...but I'm too busy for this relationship.”, “...but I have my own issues to deal with.”, “...but I never meant to be in a relationship so soon.” and so on. Sometimes you would omit the reasons and try to claim that you loved me, but your voice was weak, your eyes were empty, your touch was cold. You could not convince me, and you didn't want to anyhow.
You didn't want to be the one to officially break up. But you were the one who needed to. You were the one who was unhappy. You were the one who was disappointed in me. Because I wasn't as clever as you first though, I was far too awkward, too naïve. I wasn't always outgoing, I wasn't assertive, I wasn't always coherent , sometimes expressing myself in bizarre ways when I couldn't find the words. Through dance, though squeaks or chirps and I can only imagine that it could be consider odd behavior. I just ran out of words to express my jubilation. Especially when my behavior around others was quiet and reserved. Perhaps you thought I was a little too eccentric. But I didn't always behave that way around you. Because we had several meaningful moments when we connected on a level I could have only hoped to experience up until that point.
You let go of all that though. Not weeks later, you were over it before we last talked. You had already given up. There was nothing I could do. I couldn't make you love me. I wouldn't force you to. I wouldn't beg, and have you love me out of pity. So I took a step back, and you ran. You thought it meant you could play it like I left you though. So I'd be the bad guy, so our friends would turn their back on me. I didn't return because I knew you'd never look at me the way you once did. I couldn't stand to face that I lost you. That you had said to me so many times that you loved me, that we were meant to be. We were meant for nothing lost chances.

And now months later I realize how I'll never catch that spark again. I congratulate myself for not wasting any time trying to keep up with you, or pursue you. I'm not a complete fool, I know when there's nothing that can be done. I loved a woman named Devan once, but she's not the same woman that you are today. She's not the same woman who couldn't bother to try and actually express that she loved me, all the while lying to my face for absolutely no reason. Telling someone you love them while you crush their heart in there hands is a sure way to make sure they'll never be able to fall in love again. Only you could do that, but the woman I loved never would. She's gone now, I'll never find her again. I'll never look into those eyes again. Even if you were to come back, and claim in that empty, insignificant murmer that you could still “love” me it will only be in the voice you used the last night we saw each other. You could not sincerely love me, not like you once did.

But I hold on to what we once had. It was a once in a lifetime kind of love, cut short. I'm still certain I'll never experience such a thing again. So I need to keep it, you took so much from me. So I will hold on to this one keepsake. These memories, and the true words of love that you surrendered to me. When you were the woman that I loved, and I couldn't imagine loving anyone other than her. I just wish she still existed.

Today is someone's birthday. Someone who's left a monumental impact on my life and a hole in my heart.
It's been a little more than six months since I last saw her. She claimed to love me even as she told me that what we had was over. This ambiguous message has denied me any chance of closure. Instead of admitting that the feelings she had for me were fictitious, she shut me out of her life. Bridges burned, the fires whirled up in a frenzy extending toward friendships. What once was fertile soil for amity became volatile and corrosive.
Still, how can I forget the sweet words she whispered to me. Her gentle touch, her melodic voice and her green eyes. As a person who quickly winces and cowers away from the intensity that eye contact brings. Looking into those pools of tranquility somehow gave me the opposite effect that I'd been accustomed to. It comforted me, I could feel safe when I was with her.
I had been allowed bond that I had always alluded me. I experienced a connection I had long since given up on. She made what was impossible a reality.
I never claimed she was perfect. She was indecisive and she had her weaknesses and her vices, we all do. Despite her insecurities, and the dreadful circumstances she had experienced she had talent, wit and charm. She had style, depth and intellect. For a little while she saw my own potential. Perjaps if she had given it more time and hadn't lacked patience she could have seen me develop.
Instead she left me, forgotten, shattered and wiped clean of the confidence I had carefully constructed since my brothers death. I had worked hard to maintain hope and idealism in the wake of tragedies. Her abandonment exposed my cynical under belly. Of course it wasn't something that occurred to her, it wasn't her intention to break me. Just a side effect of actions she felt she needed to take. It was necessary, you have to break a few eggs to make an omelet. Some vegan she turned out to be.
The break up happened so suddenly. I still can reach euphoric memories, they silently haunt my mind. They're the quiet ghosts, harmless on their own. The real poltergeists are the auspicious arrangements made. Plans to go to parks, see shows, go out together and spend time together... to bond and strengthen our relationship. Everything was just beginning, we could have built a monument. Those are the thoughts that howl at me, digging into my soul, my heart and my mind.
What could have been lies half finished, neglected and yet I can still see it. A statue that doesn't crumble, instead it corrodes everything around it. The only parting gift you could afford.
I tried to reach out once, left a single message before I left Bangor. Just as I suspected there was no response. I never ask where you are now, I try not to wonder about it. Your decision to shut me out was irrevocable. I cannot for see a future where we could look at each other in the eye. Even though your eyes where once the only ones I ever could look into.

I wont be there but I'm sure you'll have a happy birthday, Devan.

Sure why not...