Diversion 2.0 Thirty Day Song Challenge -- Day 26: A Great Song You Just Discovered

Discovering new music has always been tricky for me. Mostly it’s because I’m picky; I have certain types of music I enjoy, and it’s tough to find a bunch of bands that play the exact shade of energetic pop punk or slightly old-school hip hop that scratches my sonic itch. Not only that, most of my Bozeman friends are into heavier music and don’t think much of the power pop thing; I certainly can appreciate new material from As I Lay Dying or A Day To Remember, but they’re not what makes up the bulk of my CD wallet. I try to gather my newest findings into my Testermix series of compilation albums (which I will probably have to write about at some point), but most of the roster is made up of material I discovered at least one month ago from today.

That said, this entry is about a song that I’ve heard before, but only really registered with me a few days ago.

Lady GaGa – “Yoü and I”

Back in late May, I was underwhelmed by the material released from Lady GaGa’s forthcoming album, Born This Way. “Born This Way” never showed in charms to me in a non-club setting, the melody for “Judas” is a bit out there for me (though the “Ju-DAS, Ju-DA-AH-AH!” is still relentlessly fascinating), and “Edge of Glory” only slightly recaptures the magic of “Alejandro,” “Telephone,” and “Monster.” I still had hopes, though, and decided to buy it before road tripping to Idaho for a friend’s wedding. The album had a few too many self-esteem-boosting tracks for my liking, and I wasn’t able to find any further bangers during my time with it.

Fast-forward four weeks. I got off of work to receive an unpleasant surprise: my bike had contracted a flat tire, and I needed to walk the three miles back home. On the way home, I decided to play Born This Way again, just to see if my opinion of it would improve. Perhaps it was because my house was in sight, or because it was so different from anything else GaGa has ever done, but I was absolutely taken by “Yoü and I” in a way that I do not remember from my initial listen nearly a month ago.

There are a few reasons why this song is digging me like a backhoe right now. I love the bluesy feel to this song, and the Southern rock-inspired guitar licks that give the song its edge. I also like the lyrical content of “Yoü and I”; it’s a straight-up, twangy, Southern rock song, about a woman who had a dysfunctional but working relationship with a guy she calls Nebraska, and how she’s come to get him back. Most of all, though, I love the soaring melody that comes during the bridge. GaGa stays pretty low key for most of the song, making her mid-song shot for the moon all the more satisfying.

“Yoü and I” is fairly atypical for Lady GaGa, and I would be rather surprised if it turned into a single (though it did chart at number 36 for one week in June due to digital downloads), but fans of blues, Southern rock, or songs with great melodic release should give it a chance.

Diversion 2.0 Thirty Day Song Challenge -- Day 25: A Cover Song That Ravages the Original

In today’s modern, self-aware music scene, song covers are running rampant like never before. YouTube provides a soapbox for more homegrown attempts, and some record labels have even developed a whole series based on bands covering other bands. Some are fun twists on old favorites, while others go to great lengths to remain faithful to the original.

Then there are some like this.

Nickelback featuring Kid Rock and Dimebag Darrell – “Saturday Night’s Alright (For Fighting)”

I will give them this: conceptually, Nickelback and Kid Rock, two of America’s most proudly white trash songwriters, are pretty faithful to Elton John’s original intent of a working class good time getting rowdy at the bars. But criminy, we all know how I feel about Nickelback, and I’ll be damned if Kid Rock doesn’t sweeten the pot with his patented brand of sweat-stained wife beaters and tobacco juice.

As always, the main buzzkill for this song is Chad Kroeger and his weird, snarly, almost-singing voice. It’s definitely a personal problem on my part; after all, lots of people actually like the sound of this big doofus. For me, though, I can’t get past his throaty, yelp-y style of singing, which is reminiscent of someone tearing a sheet of paper in half at about 120 decibels.

The instrumentation in this song is reasonably appreciable, and certainly sounds more aggressively like a bar fight than EJ’s, but I’m not a fan of the key Nickelback chose to play it in. The whole song sounds higher than it should be, especially since Kroeger comes off as singing way higher than he’s comfortable with, and the track never quite settles into any sort of groove. Kid Rock is also here to lend his vocal talent… moving on.

Like I said, I’m generally at odds with the southern-fried, blue collar styling of both Nickelback and Kid Rock, so the notion of them graffiti-tagging over one of my favorite recently-discovered songs doesn’t sit well with me at all. Fortunately, this rendition of “Saturday Night” was only found on the Charlie’s Angels: Full Throttle soundtrack and certain copies of Nickelback’s The Long Road, making hearing it in the wild rather unlikely.

Diversion 2.0 Thirty Day Song Challenge -- Day 24: A Cover Song Better Than the Original

Goldfinger – “99 Red Balloons”

Song covers can be a great many things, sometimes paying tribute to great bands from yesteryear, and sometimes taking a popular song in a non-traditional direction for amusement and added popularity. Goodness knows what the decision-making process was behind it, but in 2000, punk/ska band Goldfinger released their third album Stomping Ground, which featured a cover of Nena’s “99 Luftballoons.”

For those keeping score at home, “99 Luftballoons” was a German protest song from 1983, and bears all the marks of New Wave hit. Goldfinger keeps many sonic elements in tact (including the German; the last verse is gesungen in Deutsch), but adds a bagfull of firecrackers' worth of explosive energy. Powerchords blaze, palm mutes crunch, and rapid-fire drum fills tear the old 80’s funk asunder as the band races through the song with reckless abandon. In short, it’s everything I love about pop-punk.

Lyrically, the song is silly. It tells of a couple that buy a set of 99 balloons (natch), and let them all go into the air. Rather than simply suffocate a few helpless flying fauna (which is the most likely thing that would happen), the balloons show up on the military radar as an enemy bogey, triggering a nuclear holocaust. On the If You Give a Mouse a Cookie spectrum of causality, it’s pretty out there, but WHO CARES BECAUSE THE VERSE IS STARTING GET IN THE PIT GO GO GO!!!

Sorry, I’m done now—this song makes me want to move.

Seriously. More than “Grand Theft Autumn,” more than “Clockwork,” more than nearly any other pop-punk song I can think of, “99 Red Balloons” is the track I would give to a power-pop neophyte as a gateway song, and is easily one of my favorites to date.

Diversion 2.0 Thirty Day Song Challenge -- Day 23: A Song You Used to Hate But Now You Don't

Kelly Clarkson – “Since U Been Gone”

I was never an American Idol fan, so my introduction to Kelly Clarkson came in from her second single, “Miss Independent.” I dug the song, and contented myself with enjoying Clarkson’s brand of chipper, if slightly mainstream, pop. Of course, in 2004, I reinvented my musical taste and became much more of a Music Snob, looking down on artists played to the sheep of my high school, and reveling in bands only if other people hadn’t heard of them first. I’m not proud of it, but there it is: I was the guy whose music made me Better Than You.

My occupational switch basically threw Kelly Clarkson under the bus—there was no way her new, slightly rock-infused sound was hardcore enough for me, and in her I could only see a poser, making a mockery of the music I held dear. Never mind that “Behind These Hazel Eyes” could easily be a Paramore song with its drive and energy; she was mainstream, and that was punishable with supercilious shunning. Yep, I was a self-righteous little bastard, and I’m glad those days are (mostly) behind me.

Anyway, “Since U Been Gone.” After a while, I managed to pull my head out of my ass and realize, “Hey, this is pretty catchy!” The final selling point came from a school dance, and watching the crowd react to the song and its quasi-moshy chorus. Everyone was having a good time, and didn’t give a crap about how “cool” it was to like Kelly. I was also able to finally listen for the rock undertones found in most of her work on Breakaway, and further give in to my love of pop.

Sure, “Since U Been Gone” has cooled off in the years since, and I’ve gotten older, but I’m comfortable enough in my musical taste to embrace its positive aspects. Heck, if you get me liquored up enough, I’ll probably still do that jump-up-and-down thing when the chorus comes around.

Diversion 2.0 Thirty Day Song Challenge -- Day 22: A Song You Used to Love But Now You Don't

In this life, I’ve done many things I’m not proud of. I’ve broken hearts, betrayed trusts, and made poor decisions that have adversely affected the ones I love.

I also used to like Limp Bizkit.

Limp Bizkit – “Rollin’ (Air Raid Vehicle)”

What can I say. It was the late 90’s, a time when all things “edgy” were crawling their way out of the woodwork of pop culture, from punk rock ducks to extreme-recycling dogs. And nothing was edgier than the newest, most daring innovation in music to date: rap metal. All of the angst of regular metal with the in-your-face delivery of rap. Alas, this was a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup commercial that would not last, but it would take nearly five years before rap metal would slink back to the dark, anguished hole from whence it came (only to emerge with longer hair and significantly more eyeliner).

There were several groups carrying the rap metal style, but none of them were as in your face and casually douche-y as Limp Bizkit. The group that assures us that they did it all for the nookie absolutely tore up the charts, charting several Top 10 singles on the Rock and Alternative charts between 1999 and 2001, and achieving 13x Platinum sales across two albums. In short, they were awesome, and by listening to their music, you, too, would become awesome.

One of Limp Bizkit’s most popular songs was their second single from the album Chocolate Starfish and the Hotdog Flavored Water, a classy joint called “Rollin’ (Air Raid Vehicle).” To hear the song is to realize how ridiculous it is. First off, the lyrics mean absolutely nothing—aside from using some powerful- and assertive-sounding words, I’m pretty sure there is no meaning to this song. Hell, check out the chorus:

Move in, now move out (hands up, now hands down)
Back up, back up (show me what you’re gonna do now)
Breathe in, now breathe out (hands up, now hands down)
Back up, back up (show me what you’re gonna do now)
Keep rollin’, rollin’ rollin’ rollin’ (what?)
Keep rollin’, rollin’ rollin’ rollin’ (c’mon!)
Keep rollin’, rollin’ rollin’ rollin’ (yeah!)
Keep rollin’, rollin’ rollin’ rollin’

But what does it mean?! As an angsty, Grand Theft Auto III-playin’ eighth grader, I didn’t give a crap about how vapid the song was; it sounded tough and defiant, and I ate that s@$# up. In fact, I’m pretty sure I put this song on three different mixes during my time in middle school (also included on those mixes: P.O.D., Korn, TRUSTcompany, and some early Ludacris. Willikers).

The sad part? I still get the urge to listen to it sometimes. Not to revel in its musical brilliance, but to grimace, and to remember what it was like to be 14 again.