An odd advert from the Guardian I caught on Facebook the other day (What six songs make you, you?) got me pondering about if I were to make a mini-movie about my life, what songs would feature in it. Directors and producers, please form an orderly queue.
[Here goes… nothing. Bear in mind, I don’t write music reviews for a reason.]
Canvas – Imogen heap
This pulsating heartbeat base with undertones of a bizarre electrical current make the rhythm on this an utter head fuck, but provides a back drop for a good intro shot of strolling through a park or something. Heap booms and breaks through it with a harmonic vocal mix of vulnerability and strength, climaxing with an orchestra of a hundred teeny violins (but not in a sad way) and other random stringed instruments. Chills.
The fuck ups of my love life:
White Blank Page – Mumford and Sons
The barely audible intro lures you into the sense of a soft security, much like I imagine (if such a film were a rom-com) the main romantic love interest would be. The smooth sensations of the gently plucked banjo and sweet, ridiculously catchy, vocal harmonies. Then the indie-folk swirl all crashes down with an angry, onomatopoeic growl of ‘raaaaage’ (that bitch crushed you, didn’t she? I never would, Mr Mumford…) Gradually accelerating the tempo into something resembling a 50s American barn dance, every string suddenly silences to a sad, eerie exit of sweet vocal harmonies that got etched onto the back of my skull for weeks following a romantic whirlwind of a summer.
The ‘I’m my own woman’:
Drops of Jupiter – Train
Echoes, crashing drums, changes of key. A good sing-a-long if nothing but enough cheesy lyrics to wind up as one the final few Skool Dayz tracks. Whilst holding a lot of memories which fill me to the brim with sop, I like to think that I am that girl looking for myself out there, in the atmosphere… or something like that. Perhaps accompanied by some power walking somewhere, and shots of me travelling across various continents with a backpack that’s too heavy for me, Bridget Jones style.
The ‘batshit’ crazy side:
15 Step – Radiohead
I got bottled when I first heard this live. Admittedly, it’s irritating to stand right behind the person on the shoulders of the randomer she met an hour before, and no one’s going to hear you shout. Despite featuring in Twilight (truly the highlight of the film, trust me) the eclectic mix of an irregular beat and some oddly mixed warbly sound effects just doesn’t fit with werewolves and vampires. Instead, it belongs with the rest of the crazies in the semi-dusk of a summer festival amongst thousands of sweaty, drugged up twenty-somethings asking deep, unanswerable, philosophical questions about ‘What happened?’. Sadly, no matter how much I pay for another Radiohead gig, it will never, ever be the same as Reading ’09.
The not giving a shit:
Come as you are – Nirvana
Possibly the easiest but fucking best baseline in the Nirvana discology, like many an emo-kid I learnt to play this at the ripe old age of 13 (not on a bass, funnily enough). I can still only grasp the vocal rasp during a particularly evil bought of flu, but seeing the beauty in a lack of beauty is exactly what Cobain does here. Whether or not you can make sense of his lyrics, you simply need to get into the mindset of not giving a fuck so much. In moderation, this is a pretty good feeling to evoke, possibly when my love interest has realised what a knob I am, and run off with my sister.
Still – Foo Fighters
Life, death and calamity are the three words I would use to sum up this song. As the intro track to the acoustic CD of In Your Honour, it sets the tone for the rest of the album; pretty darn simple. One to lie in the grass to and just breathe. Bit of a sad ending, come to think of it, better shove 99 Red Balloons on there and some scenes of my friends and I running around a theme park in true outtakes style.