This is white girl blues at its best, and I admit that I’m feeling it pretty hard. A white girl may not have a real good reason for having the blues, and her depth of experience may be as thin as her ankles, but goddamn it, she’s got the blues anyway. And if she’s Duffy, she going to sing her heart out about it. What is white girl blues, anyway? Does your man make you feel mildly insecure? Do you suspect that the role you’re playing in his life might be a little bit problematic? Are you second-guessing yourself about why, deep down inside, you’ve allowed yourself to be placed in such a problematic position in the first place? If you answered yes, you got the white girl blues. White girl blues is when you don’t actually have any real problems, and you know that you don’t really have any real problems, but you feel like shit anyway. You feel like garbage and you hate your life; and you feel like you’re somehow broken inside in ways you can’t quite articulate; and you feel lonely and unloved like some kind of a goddamned torch singer from the fifties; and you would like to fall in love and be swept away but you’re not about to compromise your principles in order to make that possible, so thank you very much.
Changing gears to an entirely different mood. Ladytron certainly creates a sustained atmosphere, and it’s a long way from chilling at the seaside. It’s sleek, hypnotic, distinctly continental, reminiscent of long nights specked with glitter and cocaine. If dancing and twitching all night in a faded-velvet upholstered nightclub is your happy place, well then, welcome to your happy place. Ladytron takes their cues straight from the source: European glam-rock, of course. It’s music that reflects a precise moment of inspiration. Original story: the dissident art kid who buys a Roxy Music album on the black market in Sofia, Bulgaria.
Will the Raconteurs ever record together again? It looks like the answer is no. Because Jack White forms and unforms bands the way some people cycle in and out of relationships. No sooner has one project off the ground, it’s on to the next one. Jack White is a promiscuous collaborator, and that’s what’s made his career so interesting. I haven’t checked out his latest solo record yet, but I’m excited about it. I’ve been told it’s an entirely new direction. In the meantime, we can look back on past triumphs, like the two Raconteurs albums. They’re as solid as they day they were pressed.
The Human League never covered any Del Shannon songs. If they had, it might have sounded something like this. This is also, technically, not a cover of Del Shannon’s famous hit; somehow no one has noticed that it has the same hook and Ladytron has been allowed to claim sole songwriting credit. Call it an homage, I guess. But it does make me want to hear Ladytron cover some early-60’s pop songs. I also want to hear Ladytron do a collaboration with Phil Oakey, because if anybody can replicate the sound of Dare for the new millennium it’s Ladytron. Or, you know, I just want Ladytron to make another album. Which they’ve been promising to do, but haven’t done. I would like it to be a 1960’s pop cover album featuring Phil Oakey, but I’ll take whatever they want to give me.
Remember 2008? Duffy was the singing sensation of the year. She got all kinds of glowing press accolades, including some embarrassing honorifics like “the new Dusty Springfield” or ” a more wholesome Winehouse.” Well, that was ten years ago and we haven’t heard a peep from Duffy since 2010. Apparently she didn’t take to fame the way some people do. She wanted to write songs and sing them, not to have every part of herself be turned into a commodity. It’s unfortunate that to succeed as an artist in this day and age, you have to sell a lot more than just your work; you have to be a brand from your eyelashes to your toenails, and not everybody wants to be looked at that intensely. Duffy, for her part, had the gumption to say ‘fuck this’ and just walk away, unlike Winehouse, who also just wanted to write songs and sing them. At least we got Rockferry, which is still marvelous ten years later, and who knows, maybe she’ll have something more to say when she’s lived more life.
David Byrne and Brian Eno really need to hang out more. Every time they collaborate something brilliant comes out. The last Eno and Byrne collaboration was Everything That Happens Will Happen Today in 2008. That record was innovative in a lot of ways, mainly in terms of distribution and promotion; independently produced! independently distributed! It was two old dogs learning new internet tricks, really taking advantage of this new digital age be-your-own-master music business. It was also notable in conception. Eno and Byrne set out to make an album that explored the human condition, as it exists in the digital age, and in doing so tampered down their own natural cynicism and emotional dryness. Cheerful, simple, emotionally direct songs that aren’t about making fun of people in flyover states.
Well, there’s one kind of blues I’ve never had to have. All the other kinds, yes, this one, no. Ahahahaha haha ha *weeping* “Always play to win, always seem to lose” is very true, though. Terry Reid was on it when he wrote that. Reid is one of those underrated talents who never quite got off the sidelines and into the spotlight, but some of his songs have had lives of their own. This one has been around the block. Marianne Faithfull recorded it in 1971, for an album that wouldn’t be released until the mid-80’s. Faithfull was dead on her feet in 1971, and she sounded it, but her song choice couldn’t be more apropos. She lived the blues. Every shade of the blues. However much I love her interpretation of things, in this case, I think it’s a little wobbly. There’s really only one definitive take of this song, and no, it’s not the original. The Raconteurs took it and blew it up. That’s likely where you’ve heard it, and you probably didn’t know it’s not a Jack White original. White is a great songwriter, of course, but he’s a great interpreter too, and when he does a cover, it’s always both unexpected and totally perfect. This duet with Brendan Benson is that, and one of the Raconteurs’ highlights.