This is the fifth of my ongoing series of blog posts on the Making Of my new album as Granfalloon, Calendar - Chapter 2. To start at the very beginning and read my Making Of series for Volume 1, go here.
TRACK 5: BARBICAN BLUES
SUBJECT - Architects (or is it?)
OPENING RAMBLE
I can see where he’s coming from. There are often many strands to a thought process. There are often many strands to even one single thought. It may be emotional or colourful, it may be abstract, or particularly specific. If one has chosen to express themselves with music, especially in the form of song, how could one possibly hope to do it justice by explaining the thing in prosaic form?
You’ve decided to sidestep the very medium you thought was the perfect delivery system for this loose collection of thoughts, feelings, beliefs, and colours. And if you can do that, why not make a film or write a book instead? Why a song?
Because, to me, there is nothing... nothing quite like the song in terms of how... synesthesiacal* it can be. You can use a combination of syllables and sounds, that when mixed together in some weird and specific way... a way that isn't even explicit, can convey how smoke tastes... or how homesickness smells. How amazing... how magical is that?
There’s an analogous belief expressed by one of my favourite writer of comics, Alan Moore. He has a very healthy approach to the whole business. He believes that the original comic-format is the only way to consume his creations. He very steadfastly believes this and that all other facsimiles of his work (be they TV shows or film adaptations) are nonsense. And he very steadfastly believes this whilst taking huge wheelbarrows of cash from anyone who would like to try and turn any of his comics into TV shows or film adaptations.
Anyway back to Lloyd Cole… speaking as someone who does the thing that Lloyd was bemoaning, I can see where he’s coming from. I don’t necessarily want to tell you what my songs are about. In fact, you might notice that most of the time, despite writing reams of words about the creation of these songs, I DON’T tell you what they’re about.
I do tell you what happens in them.
I do tell you the stories ahead of time.
I might talk about how they end or tip the supposed “twist” before you hear it.
I don’t really talk about what they’re about. That’s something completely different in my view. I like to leave that to the listener if possible.
Which brings me to ‘Barbican Blues’, the fifth track of Calendar - Chapter II.
WRITING IN 2014
My notes from that year tell me that the deadline for the song was Wednesday 8th October 2014. And beneath that I have written this quote:
"Architecture students are like virgins with an itch they cannot scratch
Never build a building till you're 50, what kind of life is that?"
This tiny truism is a verbatim quote from ‘The Hexx’, a song by US band Pavement, taken from their final album 1999’s Terror Twilight. I remember, when it was released, the album was treated with disdain by some long standing fans of the band and the snootier members of the rock press because it had a layer of ‘polish’ to the production that some believed belied the bands’ roots and mythical mission statement as one of the godfathers of the 90’s lo-fi*** approach. But it was the first album I’d heard by them and, having no less well recorded barometer to measure it against, I absolutely adored the album. From the opening track ‘Spit On A Stranger’ (Honey I’m a prize and you’re a catch/And we’re a perfect match) to the infectious bounce of ‘Carrot Rope’ (Hey little boy/Would you like to see what’s in my pocket or not?/It’s no gimmick/It’s the chance of a lifetime to see…), the album is shonky perfection to me. Top 5 (to go a little Nick Hornby). And it contains one of my favourite lyrical epitaphs from the beautiful ‘Major Leagues’:
Relationships
Hey hey hey
Really what else is there to say about love?
It looks like I’ve filled the space left by my lack of notes with a love letter to an American indie band. But what can I remember about writing the 2014 version? Have a listen to it while I try to remember.
LYRICAL WAX
****Content Warning - this post discusses suicidal feelings****
I had heard around the time of writing that the architect responsible for the Barbican in London had taken his own life by throwing himself off of the top of the building upon its completion. This story is utterly apocryphal.
And I remember conversations (most likely related to the above apocrypha) that 'architect', as a profession, has a statistically higher than average suicide rate. Again, I have nothing beyond the anecdotal to confirm anything with veracity.
Please do not believe either of these things.
But that original tableau conveys great pain, a height of melodrama that, as someone who creates, as someone who has considered ending their own life at points, I found myself drawn to wanting to explore and write about. Is there a connection between long term acts of creation on a grand scale, and the feelings of hopelessness, insignificance and failure that accompany their creation?
In this, I drew a connection between architecture and my own field of music. I’m in danger here of actually telling you what this song is about rather than “what happens” but I want to discuss it responsibly. Is there a link between the desire to undertake the creation of something and a deeper yearning? Is there an aching or sadness too deep to adequately express in everyday terms? Songwriters have a tendency to mythologise - it’s what we’ve spent most of our apprenticeship to the craft learning how to do…
This is one of the more difficult blog entries to write. I don’t feel like I want to write too much about that subject and I hope it’s okay to have merely told you about the questions and connections I wanted to explore in the song.
MEANWHILE IN 2023
‘Barbican Blues’ wasn’t one of the songs that I initially brought in to work on with Lobelia for our first Calendar II sessions.
I didn’t know what I wanted to do with the 2014 incarnation. How much did I want to change? It was one of the batch that felt like it was already almost working but it wasn’t quite there. I’m talking musically here. Lyrically, as I’ve discussed, I’d mined extraordinarily deep.
Things I thought were working in the 2014 version:
The refrain that begins each A Section/Verse (I am an architect)
The peculiar time signature of the B Section/Chorus (I don’t want to get lost)
The C Section/Bridge’s oddly shaped bar quantities as well as the layered chanting in this bit.
I wanted to keep all of these and yet I wanted the song to change somehow. It took a lot of trial and error. I have memories of attempting to play this song many times before halting in disgust with the sound of it. I definitely felt some progress when I settled on changing the chords for the back half of the A Section. I’ll outline the changes here:
2014
D |F#m |F |E :||
2023
D |F#m |BbMaj7 |BbMaj7 :||
I had found flattening the F#m into an F to be arresting and interesting in 2014 but it wasn’t doing it for me 9 years on and sliding yet another semitone down to the E to complete the progression felt trite and tired. I knew I wanted to take the chord structure somewhere unexpected. All I could do was play every chord that existed and hope I stumbled onto it. Shouldn’t be too hard! I like the BbMaj7 and it gave me that “somewhere unexpected” without sounding forced or try-hard in a way that a more complicated chord might. And speaking of more complicated chords, let’s look at that B Section eh?
“In writing, you must kill all your darlings.” - William Faulkner
I’d taken a subtle editing approach to the A Section but as much as I enjoyed the B Section’s wonderfully uneven time signature change, I realised, if I wanted this song to work, it had to go. So where would the melody take me from that BbMaj7 at the end of the A Section? Where would my voice land if I took that run up?
In these situations, I sometimes find not playing at all to be fruitful. I let my voice explore on its own, past where the structured chords end. What notes do I feel I want to sing then? What is the implied root note of that melody? What harmony notes would feel compelling?
The chord this led me to, I must admit, I don’t even know the name for it. I worked out from the process above that it contained these notes: G D F# C# - maybe someone with a superior knowledge of music theory could tell me the name for the chord. Please let me know if you can. Until then, I’ll refer to it as the Architect’s Chord.
With its more ethereal feeling Verse and its Architect’s Chord, the song was now in a place where I felt I could bring it into the writing sessions with Lobelia. I had something. It STILL wasn’t quite there though. I thought it lay in how to incorporate that floaty Bridge section from the original. It turns out all I had to do was trust the alchemical reaction that occurs when Lo and I start playing together… I played what I had, she began fingerpicking an incredible, woozy swaying guitar figure on her semi-acoustic aaaaaaand thundercrack-lightning strike! That was it. Song done. No room for the Bridge. Kill that darling.
SIGN OFF
Thanks, once more, for accompanying me to the end of this songwriting missive from deep in the heart of enemy territory. I’ve been enjoying writing these so much, I work on them weekly now and I’ve recently started a Substack where they can all be compiled, though that need not concern you lovely Bandcamp and Patreon supporters. Fret not, the exclusive entries are still behind that paywall I need to support myself but the Substack won’t have access to all the extra music you get as well. Anyway if you know anyone who might enjoy these please send them a link to this.
****If you are struggling to cope, contact the Samaritans on the free helpline 116 123, or please click on this link to access support services.****
FURTHER LISTENING (Lo-fi playlist)
'The Hexx' by Pavement
'Junk' by Paul McCartney
'Vegetables' (Smiley Smile version) by the Beach Boys
'I Wish I Could Sing' by R Stevie Moore
'I Don’t Want To Get Over You' by The Magnetic Fields
'The Cow’s Wrong' by Beta Band
'Major Leagues' by Pavement
ON YOUTUBE
ON THE DEVIL'S JUKEBOX
FOOTNOTE CORNER
*Don’t try looking it up. I just made it up. Apparently there was no adjective for synaesthesia.** Until now. You’re welcome.
**Well… maybe synaesthesiac. But it feels more noun-y to me.
***’Lo-fi’ was a form of music engineered in ‘low fidelity’ conditions. I.e. less than perfect studio conditions. It valued ‘feel’ and ‘imperfect moments’ over high production values and was a precursor to the home recording boom. Contemporaries of this movement included Beck and Guided By Voices. It can be traced back even earlier to some very well known artists like Brian Wilson of the Beach Boys (the original version of Smile AKA Smiley Smile) and Paul McCartney’s debut solo album and to lesser known artists like the home recording pioneer R Stevie Moore. And Daniel Johnstone. Arguments could be made to include Moondog or Malvina Reynolds… but maybe those weren't lo-fi. What do you think?
Next post: coming soon
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