"Portions for Foxes" is a series of weekly posts, each about one song by a woman or a band led by a woman. See the introduction for more.
I don't want to be precious with this series. I have hipster tendencies, I know, but I'm trying my best not to go full hipster, all obscure random stuff that I assume no one else will know or remember. It's just songs that mean something to me - songs I think are great, songs that I think I can say something about, songs that I want to share and push out one more time, whether you've never heard them or heard them a million times.
You've heard this one, I think. Maybe not a million times. Maybe not in a while.
This is Safari by The Breeders, the title song from their 1992 EP.
And it starts with what I always think of as a landslide; that hushed moment of reverb, and then the kick of the guitar starting. It always sounds unstoppable, relentless, powerful - with both Kelley Deal and Tanya Donelly playing what sounds like the same chords simultaneously.
It's one of those songs with obscure lyrics, so I won't be quoting like I usually do - I don't know what it means, and I don't really care. Rock songs are often about the sound, and this is a song with a powerful, demanding, relentless sound that's irresistible.
I love that catch-in-her-voice thing Kim Deal does several times at the ends of verses - the "uh-uh" leading into the long "aaaaahs." It's a song about sounds - the sounds of her voice as much as those demanding, driving guitars.
It's a song that sounds like it should be louder than however you play it, a song that wants to push things around to make space for itself. That's a great kind of song, and this is a great one, another three-minute thrill-ride that does what it needs to and then shuts down cleanly.
No comments:
Post a Comment