"That's Not The Fall" part 2

(When you're writing a piece that's actually about The Fall, it's pretty easy to find a suitable picture with which to head it; a bit trickier with a post that's deliberately about 'not The Fall'. The picture below is the first image result I got on Google for 'That's Not The Fall'.)

Welcome to the second instalment of this random little side project in which I root around in Spotify searching for songs with the same title as Fall tracks. It's a frivolous undertaking, no doubt, but I found the first one a rewarding experience, and it received quite a bit of positive feedback. In most places, at least: on one site where I post my writing from time to time, I occasionally get a 'you have too much time on your hands' reaction. This always puzzles me a little, as this type of comment is never directed at posts along the lines of 'I binge-watched the box set of xxx last weekend'; it's as if sitting inert on the sofa watching TV is a more worthwhile pursuit than writing about something. Anyway, I digress...

Levitate

Good lord but there are hundreds of these. I suppose the word levitate has 'uplifting 'connotations and also has a touch of magic and mysticism about it; there are millions of songs and playlists described as 'motivational' and 'inspiring' out there, and the notion of levitation fits snugly with that tone. It's not surprising, therefore, that quite a few of the tracks - such as those by Tech Panda, Hvetter and soma hayato - are of a floaty / ethereal / ambient persuasion. Also - as has been the case with virtually every title so so far - there's an abundance of predictable and samey hip-hop to be found. I didn't think that his contribution to the Levitate list was especially notable musically, but Langston Doobs certainly has the best name.

The search also brought up 21 Pilots, a particular favourite of my 16-year-old daughter. It's inoffensive enough, but is basically Linkin Park with the nu-metal aspects excised. Jynx and Beyond Defected just do Linkin Park without anything removed.

If you like things at the electronica/dance end of the spectrum, then there's some 4-to-the-floor techno from Stereoplugz; the best of the numerous drum and bass Levitates come from Logistics, Arcatype and Rizzle. Electronica of a more fractured and abstract nature is provided by Cadiz and Ayavez. I particularly liked Samsin's woozily warped Levitate:

At the more traditional rock end of things, we have Dr Hook. I'm sure I'm not alone in knowing only three things about the band: 'Sylvia's Mother', 'When You're In Love With A Beautiful Woman' and the bloke with an eye-patch who played maracas (Ray Sawyer, I've discovered). Dr Hook's funk-rock 'Levitate' has a bit of infectious energy about it - the band are clearly having a lot of fun - but it is a little fatuous and self-indulgent.

Denver's nthngfvce produce a dark, swirling 'Levitate' that's underpinned by a potently fuzzy bass and has an impressive air of restrained aggression and malevolence, although the vocals are perhaps a little high in the mix in places. (The album it comes from is 'name your price' on Bandcamp.)

My second favourite 'Levitate' comes from Boston post-metal outfit Zozobra. Sitting somewhere between Jesu and Rosetta, it manages to be both crisp and sludgy.

Top of the pile were eleventwelfth. I can't tell you much about them other than they apparently come from Indonesia, but their combination of taut, precise math-rock arpeggios and hazy, diaphanous vocals is delightful, if too abruptly terminated.

Immortality

Dozens of these as well. The first result took me to this nauseating piece of schmaltz that I'd never heard before and hope to never encounter again. Ugh.

For once, there were very few hip-hop tracks, which poses an interesting philosophical question as to why artists working in this genre do not gravitate to immortality as a topic...

Perhaps unsurprisingly, a hefty proportion of these tracks come from a new-age-scented-candle-inner-peace-meditation-spiritual perspective, featuring on enticing-sounding albums such as The Peace Of Panpipe, Chill Out Gregorian and Mindfulness Chillout. The overwhelming majority are bland, facile nonsense, of course, but I found Vicki Hansen's 'Immortality' - despite the fact that it comes from an album called Shaman Woman - Medicine Music - to be a fairly engaging bit of ambient soundscape.

At the rockier end of things, there's Pearl Jam, whose Immortality is predictably tedious and features a truly banal lyric. If you prefer things a bit heavier and hardcore, there's always Blackwitch , 6 Weapons or Blasphemer. If you were after an unhinged happy-hardcore-techno take on 'Born To Be Wild' (which I'm sure you were), then look no further than DJ Delirium.

Czech outfit Arcus' Immortality sounds rather rooted in the 90s, with its stately drum machine, portentous synths and TV/radio dialogue sample, although it's actually from 2017. I like it a great deal, although I can't tell you much about them: they seem to be a pretty obscure bunch (the video below has only been viewed 20 times in the last three years, and two of those were me) and things are further confused by the fact that there seem to be several bands with that name.

Before I get to my favourite 'Immortality', here are two oddities. WakeUpTime's version is taken from an album called Motivation for Overcoming Depression, which also contains tracks such as 'Your Mind is the Battleground', 'Power of Change' and 'Born to Succeed' (there seem to be several more albums of the same bent). Over a piano/strings arrangement that sounds like sci-fi/fantasy film soundtrack, an earnest and overwrought voice intones a series of meaningless self-help-style platitudes such as 'the universe is a blank canvas; you are the painter' and 'the future is not a gift but an achievement'. It's laughable but still rather creepy. Sri Chinmoy was an Indian spiritual leader who was big on meditation, abstinence, celibacy and athletics. His poem Immortality is here.

The 'Immortality' that I enjoyed the most is this ten-minute psych-garage-krautrock epic by TH da Freak:

As far as I can gather, TH da Freak is a guy from Bordeaux called Thoineau who plays everything himself. Their are several of his albums (mostly 'name your price') on Bandcamp. On commentator on this album called it 'goofy groovy French garage rock', which is as good a description as any. I'll certainly be delving into his back catalogue.

Wings

The first thing that cropped up on Spotify was Birdy. I'd almost forgotten who she was, but I soon recalled that she was the one who did that godawful cover of Bon Iver's 'Skinny Love'. Her 'Wings' is just as excruciatingly vapid as you'd expect. (My better half really enjoys this kind of thing and is always puzzled by my vehement antipathy.) The next was Little Mix, of whom I was vaguely aware but had never heard anything by before; it didn't take long for me to realise that they and I were never really going to hit it off. To be fair to them, Scouting For Girls' Radio 1 Live Lounge cover is even worse, possibly one of the most execrable things I've ever heard. Moving swiftly on...

I'm not - as I'm sure is readily apparent - a big hip-hop fan, but Mac Miller's 'Wings' has a disjointed, woozy feel that was at least mildly interesting. (It's also a mark of how middle-aged and out of touch I am that a song by a guy I'd never even heard of has 8.3m views on YouTube.)

To be honest, I struggled to find much of interest with this title. Jack No Lack and Mike Giemz's efforts are inoffensive but rather aimless rock instrumentals, neither much more than a minute long;  Phlocalyst's is pleasantly mellow but rather bland; Satorbass provide a slice of adequate but unexciting drum and bass; if Polish death metal is your thing, then Vader's thunderous assault may well float your boat.

By far the best track of a ropy bunch was Tim Buckley's. Recorded for his 1966 debut album when he was only nineteen, it's an aching melodramatic piece about his relationship with Mary Guibert, whom he married in 1965 but divorced in 1966 before their son Jeff was born ('a sight of birth he leaves you by a door').

There's also an excellent, intense live version here.

Garden

Bloody Pearl Jam pop up straight away again! And are no less tedious than before.

I thought there'd be more more for this title, but the pickings were extremely slim. C Duncan's version isn't bad, although it's a little lightweight and jaunty for my tastes. Meet Me @ The Altar are clearly having fun, and fair play to them, even if it isn't really my sort of thing.

The winning entry, however, is a slice of crisp, taut drum and bass produced by the wonderfully named Totally Enormous Extinct Dinosaurs.

Taking Off

After the Wings and Garden washouts, it was a very pleasant surprise to find that there were a plethora of really decent tracks called Taking Off. So much so, in fact, that I even made a separate Taking Off playlist. 

The biggest name involved was The Cure, whose Taking Off featured on their eponymous 2004 album (I haven't listened to the LP in some time, but I remember it being solid if not spectacular). I'd not heard of Massachusetts Highly Suspect before, but I enjoyed their goth-tinged alt-rock. (Front man Johnny Stevens is a dead ringer, vocally, for Julian Cope.) Dribble is a pretty terrible name for a band: it suggests they should be playing something irritatingly quirky and ironic, whereas in fact they sit somewhere The Jesus & Mary Chain and Melvins.

Beach Fossils' Taking Off is a delightful slice of lo-fi jangle. The Highest Order's sedate, dreamy version conjures images of lonely journeys down dusty, sunbaked highways (although they're actually from Canada). Plastic Nancy (from Richmond, Virginia) bring some fizzing, melodic garage-psych to the list (the album is 'name your price' on Bandcamp).

There's also a trio of top-notch old school Americana tunes: Matt "Guitar" Murphy's slinky blues; Jeremy Wakefield's steel guitar jazz; Milton Brown's joyous Western swing. On the more electronic side of things, Forest Swords' Taking Off is a nicely understated piece of pulsating minimalism. I was particularly fond of Swiss guitarist Pierre Cavalli's version, which is an exuberant collision of funk, jazz and prog; it's one of those tracks where your appreciation is enhanced by the fact that all the musicians seem to be enjoying themselves immensely. 

Swedish guitarist Erik Borelius' Taking Off is in the same sort of ballpark as Cavalli's, although it's more earnest and focuses on the prog rather than the jazz or funk. Argentinian Wiki Chaves' 2019 version (apparently 'conceived during a long backpacking trip around Hawaii, Asia, and Oceania') is a somewhat stilted little instrumental, but one that has a certain awkward appeal.

My favourite Taking Off, however, is the one by The Killbot Factory. (I have no idea who they are - possibly Russian, but it's a bit of a mystery). To be honest, I'm not entirely sure why I like this so much - it's rather vague, simplistic and directionless, and it doesn't do anything terribly original - but I think that your more inexplicable musical loves are often the strongest. When a piece of music just connects with you and you don't know why (it's not the tone of the guitar effects; it's not the lyric; it's not the complexity of the drum pattern; it's not that it reminds of you when you did whatever whenever) then that's the best stuff of all. The unfathomable mystery of music...

Spotify Playlist

YouTube Playlist

Thanks for reading. All shares/likes/retweets received with gratitude; all comments welcome. Not sure I'll do another one of these very soon, as they're quite time-consuming, but I can't imagine I won't revisit this idea at some point.

Stay safe everyone.

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