Pylon suffered from the fact their music wasn’t quite as accessible as REM’s, nor were they tempted toward going as mainstream as Stipe and the fellas. The music of Pylon had more in common with Gang of Four than the country rock that got REM played on college radio stations across the country. And the lyrical content of Pylon’s songs had to deal a subtle complexity that was even more of a hindrance than Stipe’s inability to speak coherently:
Some of them are achingly obvious while others may not even be known as concept albums. Some become classics that sell millions of records while others remain cult favorites impossible to tear away from the grip of their fans. In fact, there is but one element that is applicable to all—or at least most—concept albums: the songs are intended to be listened to in a particular order so that the full measure of the “concept” can play out in a linear fashion.
It takes a stupendously fecund imagination to make the kind of intellectual leap from the mention of a Lear jet to the possibility that Glinda the Good Witch wishes she had a Lear jet instead of a bubble to travel in, don’t you think?
Gang of Four’s Marxist theory is particularly preoccupied with determination of consciousness. Although many of their songs rail against specific targets, the bulk of their message centers on the conceit of becoming aware of the political implications that inform the reception of ideas and opinions about those targets.
Civil twilight, you see, is actually a scientific definition used in navigation to define that period of the day when the center of the sun is geometrically positioned so that artificial lighting is not necessary to distinguish terrestrial objects. In other words, civil twilight is when humans are able to see things clearly and naturally.
Now, don’t you want to get to know a band that comes up with a song title like that?
Gang of Four take a much more subtle approach to the issue of the snakes in Ireland that St. Patrick’s Day music is not about celebrating.
The pop music scene since the 1980’s has gotten increasingly and distressingly less creative, imaginative…
Tom Hanks’ directorial debut was refreshingly simple instead of the typical overbloated epic that actors often pick in order to show how serious they are about directing. The time period of “That Thing You Do!” is the early 60s when attempts to actually create a day in which rock music died were finally jettisoned in reluctant favor of acceptance and assimilation.
No less a legend than Greil Marcus termed it the best single of the year when it was released and its stature has only grown since. Just try to locate a flaw in this concoction of 1980s power pop brilliance from Rick Springfield.
Weezer’s space opera. Pink Floyd’s album made entirely from things found around the house. An electric Nebraska. Will they ever seen the light of day? Smile.