Friday Night Jukebox, Vol. DLXXXII--The Waterboys: And a Bang on the Ear

 You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, well, you just might find...I'm (only four days?) late again....

[Blogger's Aside:  All caught up--yay!--for now....]

This is the third time I've written about this week's band, and the story of my introduction to their music remains the same for their third straight tune.  I will say, however, that my enjoyment of their music has only grown with the passing of time (now over thirty years)....

I wrote about the Waterboys in Vol. CXIII and Vol. CDLXXVI so a full bio paragraph won't be necessary.  Since my last post about them in 2024, they have released another studio album, and this year will release a three CD set of unreleased material as well as tour later this spring.  Somehow in the first two posts I failed to note their discography, which can be found here.

"And a Bang on the Ear" was the second single from their fourth album, the rather seaworthy entitled Fisherman's Blues.  It was not released as a single in the U.S. but hit #1 in their native Ireland (so many cool kids on the Emerald Isle!), and #51 in the U.K.  The album did chart in America, peaking at #76, but did much better in the U.K. reaching #13.

Fun Fact:  One of the most popular FAQ's on the band's website is what exactly is meant by "a bang on the ear."  A bang is Irish slang for a kiss, so it basically means a kiss on the ear (somewhat akin to our "a peck on the cheek").

"And a Bang on the Ear" recounts the lovers and losses of the protagonist (could well be bandleader Mike Scott, but he isn't telling) over the course of several verses.  Scott sings with a lovingly whimsical tone (there's no bitterness here) with his tongue firmly planted in his cheek.  The background music is delightful--mostly Irish folk (though the organ reminded me of The Band) with just a touch of pop.  It features the aforementioned organ, plenty of fiddle, some piano, and a nice rhythmic drumming that pulls it all together.  Scott closes with a short paean to his current love, a nice touch that reminds us that in the end love is what we seek.  In the end, it's an imminently clever look back at love and its wonders and pains as we make our journey through life and hinting that despite those ups and downs it's ever worth our while.

Lyric Sheet:  "Deborah broke my heart and I the willing fool/I fell for her one summer on the road to Liverpool/I thought it was forever, but it was over in a year (oh dear)/But I give her my love and a bang on the ear..."

Enjoy:  

Fuck Donald Trump

Peace,

emaycee

Friday Night Jukebox, Vol. DXIV--Hozier: Jackie and Wilson

 Back to back days--you'd think I'm trying to catch up (at least this one's only five days late)....

It's not surprising, given my penchant for a good pop tune, that the best pop song on a great album would eventually come to the fore.  This week's tune spent weeks dancing around in my head, with me studying the lyric sheet daily to remember every word, and as I did my due diligence this week and listened to it again and again in prep for this post...it was every bit as good as I remembered it.

As with last week, I've written a post about Hozier before, in Vol. CCCXCI.  Unlike last week, though, Hozier does have at least a little news in the interim, as he released his third full-length LP in 2023, a couple of EPS, and was fortunate enough to have his first number one single on the Billboard Hot 100.  He has remained active in social issues, and released a single, "Swan Upon Leda" which was a call for reproductive rights and women's empowerment.  Sadly, as the loss of Vice-President Harris showed us, we have a long way to go for those two goals here in America.

"Jackie and Wilson" was the third song on his rather eponymously entitled debut album, Hozier.  Though it was probably the best top forty oriented song on the album, it was not released as a single.  I already covered the album's chart trifecta in the earlier post.

Fun Fact:  The link (below) to the lyrics has a video wherein Hozier explains the process behind creating this week's tune.  Not surprisingly, he notes Jackie Wilson as a big influence of his, even going so far as to say that he thought Elvis Presley was the white Jackie Wilson and not the other way around.

In the video I just mentioned, Hozier said the idea behind "Jackie and Wilson" was simply to make a song that was fun--and he succeeded magnificently.  The song tells the tale of a man sitting in a bar, tired and lonely, who spots a woman and begins a fantasy of their adventurous life together replete with their kids Jackie and Wilson.  Eventually she moves on, and he's left to wait for another woman to begin another fantasy.  Hozier has a gift for the written word ("I need to be youthfully felt 'cause, God, I never felt young"), and his blue-eyed soul vocals are to die for.  Not to mention the pulsating guitar and drums mimicking time? heartbeats? through the stanzas which segue into the cotton candy sweet chorus.   And like the fantasy, the song ends as abruptly as the fantasy began.  Just a wonderful song, another slice of truck stop pie on the Pop Music Highway.

Lyric Sheet:   "Happy to lie back, watch it burn and rust/We tried the world, good God it wasn't for us..."

Enjoy:

Fuck Donald Trump

Peace,

emaycee

Friday Night Jukebox, Vol. CCCXCI--Hozier: Someone New

 It's easy--especially with so much good music from past decades out there--to sometimes think that today's artists aren't as good as those from our youth, but this week's featured artist reminded me that such isn't necessarily the case.  I first became aware of this week's tune from the piped in music played over the PA when I was slaving away for Save-A-Lot.  Later I came across his debut LP for a buck at a library sale and spent the next year listening to it every time I got in our car, again and again and again.  It turned out to be one of those albums where every few weeks it would dawn on me how brilliant yet another song on the album was and gave me yet another reason to continue listening...

Andrew John Hozier-Byrne (artistically known as just Hozier) was born in Bray, Ireland on St. Patrick's Day in 1990, taught himself guitar at a young age and by the time he was fifteen he was writing songs.  He released his debut EP in 2013 at the ripe old age of 23, and its title track ("Take Me to Church"--a church I'd love to worship at) went on to become an international hit as well as get nominated for a Grammy.  In the years since, Hozier has released two studio LPs (both #1 in his native Ireland--so many cool kids in Ireland!), and five more EP's.  He's also released 15 singles with three tops fives in Ireland and one #2 here in the States.  Hozier continues to record and tour and is truly one of the bright stars in the current state of music (he can flat out sing and writes songs like someone who's been doing it for a lot longer than 17 years).  Hozier is also quite the activist, donating time and money to help the homeless, as well as supporting abortion referendums, the NAACP, and Black Lives Matter, and--emaycee fave!--being an outspoken critic of the Catholic Church.

"Someone New" was the fifth single released from his debut album, the aptly titled Hozier.  It was not released as a single in America but hit #13 in Ireland.  The album reached #1 in Ireland, #2 in the U.S., and #3 in the U.K., which is a hell of a run for a first album.

Fun Fact:  Of all the songs on Hozier's first LP, he said that "Someone New" resonated with him the least by the time it was released.  Important to remember that Keith Richards thought the Stones' "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction" was an album filler....

As regular readers (both of you) know, emaycee is a big fan of blue-eyed soul, and like fellow Irishman Van Morrison, Hozier is an exemplar extraordinaire of the singing style.  Add in Hozier's unique and nuanced lyricism, and a 60's/70's soul/pop vibe and you have yourself one hell of a tune.  Hozier has said the song is about love at its most fatuous (hopeless romantics beg to differ), and some have said it's about loneliness, but I've always felt it's a song about admitting our fallibility as we fall in and out of love ad infinitum in our long-term relationships.  Any which way, it's a funky strut down pop music lane...which is always a beautiful place to be.

Lyric Sheet:  "Would things be easier if there was a right way?/Honey there is no right way/And so I fall in love just a little, oh a little bit, every day with someone new..."

Enjoy:

Republican = Traitor

Peace,

emaycee

Friday Night Jukebox, Vol. CCCXLI--Maura O'Connell: Feet of a Dancer

This week's tune was discovered on a folk compilation I came across during my troubadour phase in the mid to late nineties.  If I'd had but world enough and time, I'm sure a lot more such songs would be featured here on Friday Night Jukebox....

Maura O'Connell was born in Ennis, Ireland in 1958, and started out working in her family's fish shop before beginning to make music.  At the ripe old age of twenty-two she spent six weeks touring America as a backup vocalist for Irish band De Dannan, gained acclaim by performing on their next album, and then began her solo career.  O'Connell's work has been heavily influenced by American Country and Bluegrass, and while she's never had a lot of commercial success (a little more so in her native Ireland), she's done well enough to make a living from her singing.  For her career, O'Connell has released eleven studio albums, one compilation, and has appeared either as a guest vocalist or a backup singer on at least twenty-two other LPs (including emaycee faves Nanci Griffith, John Prine, and Rosanne Cash).  In 2013, she announced her retirement from her solo career.

"Feet of a Dancer" was released in 1988 on her album Just in Time.   The song was not released as a single and the album did not chart.

While not quite as sparse as old-timey Woody Guthrie nothing but a voice and a guitar folk, "Feet of a Dancer" features a lot of what makes folk, well, folk.  There's some nice touches of steel guitar, a little acoustic guitar here and there, some well placed mandolin playing, and, in what may be an FNJ first (or not--the number of songs featured is getting quite high), wonderful bongo playing to keep the song moving rhythmically.  But what carries the song--as happens quite often with a folk tune--is O'Connell's vocals, which are just north of heavenly.  Her voice shines with all the hope the song  proffers--essentially it's a parent telling a child that life is hard, hoping for the best for you, but regardless, we're always going to be here.  If there's one trait folks is known for is songs that speak to our better angels...and this one has halos floating all around it.

Lyric Sheet:  "I hope you find someone who cares/I hope you find all the right directions, everywhere/Everywhere...

Enjoy:

You Have a Choice:  Pass a Voting Rights Bill, or Welcome Fascism to America

Peace,

emaycee

Friday Night Jukebox, Vol. CCXIII--U2: Staring at the Sun

Hard to believe I'm four years into Friday Night Jukebox and I'm just getting to a song by U2, a band almost on a par (and much like, at least thematically) my favorite band of all-time, The Who...which is almost as amazing as the fact that the band has had the same four members since it released its first album in 1980--almost unheard of in rock and roll.

Bono, The Edge (two of the greatest stage names ever), Adam Clayton, and Larry Mullen, Jr. originally formed U2 in 1976 in Dublin, Ireland and like many a great band before them it took a few years for them to become musically proficient enough to actually perform in professional circles.  But once they did...hoo-boy, did they ever create quite the career.  Their list of accomplishments is stunning, having released fourteen albums and 70 singles (in various incarnations) over the last forty years.  They've sold over 170 million records (over fifty million in the U.S.), had 8 #1 albums on the Billboard 200 (and two more in the top ten), and two #1 singles (and four more in the top ten) on the Billboard Hot 100.  They've won more Grammys (22) than any other band, had the largest attendance and money grossing tour in rock and roll history (U2 360 tour), and were elected to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame (rather unsurprisingly) in their first year of eligibility.  All this, and they've still managed to find time for more political, social, and charitable causes than can be counted--outside of Bob Geldof, you'd be hard pressed to find anyone who has devoted more of his time to world causes than Bono.  And to be quite honest, their Wikipedia entry is one of the most interesting I've read in quite some time...

Fun Fact:  A couple of years into their tenure as a band, a family friend of Clayton's suggested six names for the band--and they chose U2 because it was the suggested name they disliked the least.  Not a lot of points on the coolness quotient, but it's certainly an interesting tidbit.

"Staring at the Sun" was released in 1997 on their Pop album.  It would go on to reach #26 on the Billboard Hot 100, and the album would reach #1.  In something of an oddity, though, Pop would be one of U2's worst selling albums, barely cracking the one million mark (and wouldn't that suck--only selling a million copies).

While "Staring at the Sun" is one of my favorite U2 songs, it probably isn't my favorite, but I chose it for a number of reasons.  First, a lot like REM's "Imitation of Life" (FNJ #132), it came at a point in their career when I thought their best singles days were behind them (though the same could be said of "Vertigo" released a few years later) and came as quite a nice surprise.  Second I had the pleasure of seeing U2 on their PopMart tour (a takeoff on Kmart--and how sad of a company is Kmart when one of the greatest bands in the world can't even save them) and they did a wondrous acoustic version of the song with just Bono and the Edge playing acoustic guitars (got to see it with my two oldest children, too, so it gets extra bonus points).  Third, while I would never say the Edge is underrated as a guitarist (#32 on Rolling Stone's list of rock's greatest guitarists), I think he's often forgotten on the list of guitar greats and "Staring at the Sun" showcases some of his best work.  Finally, it's got an anthemic nature to it, almost reminiscent of the Who's "Baba O'Riley" (for those of you saying "WTF!" I distinctly wrote almost) in that it's got that the world is kind of fucked up but we're all feeling in the dark (so to speak) together and we can get there as long as we keep trying (um, Shakespeare I'm not) vibe to it.  At any rate, it's a hell of a tune from the lexicon of a band that's had more than its share of hell of a tunes....

Lyric Sheet:  "There's an insect in your ear if you scratch it won't disappear/It's gonna itch and burn and sting/Do you want to see what the scratching brings..."

Enjoy:

Fuck Donald Trump,
emaycee

Friday Night Jukebox, Vol. CCIX--The Boomtown Rats: I Don't Like Mondays

At first glance, I thought this week's tune wasn't ending 2018 in a very positive manner here on Friday Night Jukebox,  but as I thought more about it, it dawned on me that it is very human (and in a way, somewhat hopeful) to chronicle tragedy to channel our empathy, even if, as this week's tune acknowledges, there really are no reasons for said tragedy.  Our tears, so to speak, pull us together.

The Boomtown Rats (truly one of rock's great band names) formed in 1975 in their native Ireland and had a fine bit of success through 1985 when they broke up, but it has largely been overshadowed (probably rightfully so) by the charitable work of lead singer Bob Geldof.  Over the course of those ten years, the Rats released six LPs, three of which reached the top ten in the UK.  They also had nine singles reach the top twenty on the UK charts, including two of which went to #1.  The Rats did reunite--and are still together minus a player or two--in 2013.  The band's musical work, though, pales in comparison to Geldof's tireless devotion to making Africa and her many peoples a better place to live.  Geldof, with Midge Ure of Ultravox fame, wrote the now classic Christmas tune "Do They Know It's Christmas" to aid with the famine in Ethiopia in 1984 and it would go on to sell over eleven million copies and raise more than ten million dollars.  Geldof would also stage Live Aid, a star studded concert across the continents, a little later to raise even more money for Africa, and has worked tirelessly through the years for debt relief and numerous other programs to help the continent.  Sometimes jokingly referred to as "St. Bob" for his work, Geldof does have a demon side and has been criticized for numerous comments throughout his life.  Still, the tale of the Boomtown Rats shows that while pop music has its decadent and its silly side, it is also capable of quite a bit of good--as many in the nations of Africa will readily attest.

Fun Fact:  The Boomtown Rats took their name from a group of children in Woody Guthrie's autobiography, Bound for Glory.  

"I Don't Like Mondays" was released in 1979 on their LP, The Fine Art of Surfacing.  The single reached number one in the UK, their native Ireland, and the top ten in eleven other nations.  Surprisingly (or not), the song only reached #73 (with a bullet!) on the Billboard Hot 100--but I'm not sure if this is because of a lack of cool kids here in the states or because the mass shooting chronicled in the song happened here and some stations were reluctant to play it.

For those not familiar, "I Don't Like Mondays" was written by Geldof in response to a school shooting in January of 1979 by Brenda Ann Spencer in San Diego, CA in which two were killed and nine others injured.  When asked why she had done it, Spencer replied, "I don't like Mondays.  This livens up the day."  As I listened to it in prep for this week's post, I was struck by several things, the first of which is how well it's aged.  One could listen to it in comparison to other songs through the years chronicling school shooters, such as Pearl Jam's "Jeremy" from the nineties or Foster the People's "Pumped Up Kicks" from this decade (there are probably others I'm not familiar with or don't remember off the top of my head), and both musically and thematically it would hold its own.  I was also impressed by Geldof's compassion for all those involved:  the school's students, the school's parents, other parents worrying about their own children, and even, to a degree, the shooter herself.  Lastly, I was truly amazed at how much Geldof and the Rats did within the confines of a pop single.  From the use of a single piano (there may be strings, I wasn't sure) to convey both the horror and the sadness, to the rat-a-tat hand claps, to the understated backing vocals, to Geldof's vocal performance itself, invoking anger, empathy, and confusion (but never despair), "I Don't Like Mondays" is a testament to what a well written, wonderfully orchestrated, and dexterously performed pop song can accomplish.

Lyric Sheet:  "Sweet 16 ain't that peachy keen/No it ain't so neat to admit defeat/They can see no reasons 'cause there are no reasons/What reason do you need..."

Enjoy:

Fuck Donald Trump, 

emaycee

Friday Night Jukebox, Vol. XXV--Thin Lizzy: The Boys Are Back in Town

Sunday marks the Summer Solstice in the Northern Hemisphere which turns my thoughts to the songs of summer, like the Beach Boys, Jan and Dean...

Nah.  Good bands both, but "The Boys Are Back in Town" by Thin Lizzy is the song that always reminds me the most of summer--it's a rare June indeed when at some point in the first couple of weeks I don't give "The Boys Are Back in Town" a listen.  Released in 1976 on their Jailbreak album, the song peaked at #12 (with a bullet!) on the Billboard Hot 100 on...July 24th.

Which, appropriately enough, would be the middle of summer.

Thin Lizzy formed in 1969 in their native Ireland.  Led by frontman Phil Lynott, the band had a little more success in the U.K. than they did here in the States, though they toured often across America.  Thin Lizzy broke up in 1983.  Sadly, Lynott died in 1986 at the age of thirty-six from complications from both drug and alcohol abuse.

Written by Lynott, the song itself is a portrait with music--lifestyles of the young and rowdy. Lynott's joyous vocals carry the song and give it an anthemic feel.  The chorus is--emaycee favorite!--repeated often and features a wondrous echo (they're also whispered at one point adding one of those little extras that make a song just that much better).  But the true beauty of the song is the twin guitars which swirl like a corkscrew throughout the song, giving the portrait its raucous and rousing undertone.  I'm telling you, I've been listening to this song for thirty-nine years and it never gets old.

Needless to say,  "...it won't be long till summer comes...."

Enjoy:

Peace,
emaycee