Leftovers (Lies/Liars): All Men Are Liars

Nick Lowe: All Men Are Liars
[purchase]

It is a post-Thanksgiving tradition at SMM to have a “Leftovers” theme, which allows our writers to look back and post something on prior themes that, for whatever reason, we couldn’t or didn’t do at the time. As the most prolific writer here recently, I pretty much have posted twice on every theme, although there are a few that I only got around to a single piece. One of those was back in March, when the theme was “Lies/Liars,” and I wrote about a great, rocking blast of Southern rock from Jason and The Scorchers. There are so many songs in the rock canon about liars and lying that it is almost hard to narrow down the choices. But I did, and thus we have today’s feature song, by the great Nick Lowe.

Since this theme is all about looking back, I did write about Lowe back in January, so I won’t repeat what I wrote there, and instead focus on this tune. Lowe has said that the idea came to him while watching, believe it or not, Oprah Winfrey. According to Lowe:

"When I was over here once I was watching an edition of The Oprah Winfrey Show. They had some poor sap sitting there who'd run off with a maid or something like that, and the audience was extremely upset with this guy. I remember this large black lady standing up and shouting at the top of her voice, 'All men are liars! All men are liars! All men are liars!' She just was chanting it. And I thought, 'Yeah, you know what? You've got a point there, darling.' And along came that song." 

Now, of course, all men are not liars. Yeah, that’s the ticket.....

The song is a fun, bouncy pop tune, with Lowe's typical clever wordplay. The other thing that the song is remembered for, to the extent it is remembered at all, is for its somewhat gratuitous insult of English singer Rick Astley. Astley had a massive, annoying hit with the song “Never Gonna Give You Up,” which led to the phenomenon of “rickrolling,” defined by the Urban Dictionary as:

To post a misleading link with a subject that promises to be exciting or interesting, e.g. "World of Starcraft in-game footage!" or "Paris Hilton blows Busta Rhymes' dick" but actually turns out to be the video for Rick Astley's debut single, "Never Gonna Give You Up". A variant on the duckroll. Allegedly hilarious. 

Even my beloved New York Mets got rickrolled.

In the song, Lowe sings:

Well, do you remember Rick Astley? 
He had a big fat hit, it was ghastly. 
He said I'm never gonna give you up or let you down. 
Well I'm here to tell ya that Dick's a clown. 

Which is more than “allegedly” hilarious, but which Lowe, as time went on, regretted. He has commented:

At the time, he was everywhere. “Never Gonna Give You Up” was just on all the time. It drove me mad. [Impersonates Astley.] That constricted voice. And so I put that rather barbed line in, which I regret now. I hardly ever do the song. I went through a phase of doing it fairly recently, but it sort of went off the boil and I stopped doing it. But when I used to do the Rick Astley line, people used to fall about, rolling in the aisles, clutching their sides laughing, and I thought, “This is rather a shame to do this. Poor old Rick. He’s not exactly in the public eye much anymore. It seems a little unfair to kick him when he’s down.” 

One of the many fun things about writing these pieces is that I actually research what I write and learn things about songs that I like. Which is how I found the interview that I have quoted from at length. But it is also interesting to read reviews of the music I post. The album that “All Men Are Liars” comes from, Party of One, is a pretty good one, in my estimation. Lowe, of course, was originally best known as a producer, but also created one of the all-time great albums, Jesus of Cool (and its slightly different American version, Pure Pop For Now People), not to mention the fine follow up, Labour of Lust. After that, he released a bunch of albums, all of which had moments, some more than others, until his recent critically acclaimed reinvention as a crooner.

But, if you read the Allmusic review of Party of One, you might be dissuaded from listening to it—it refers to the album as “stilted,” and “an unwelcome surprise” filled with “forced humor and bland support,” and “stiff, colorless performances.” (I suspect that the reference to “stiff” in that review was not meant as a reference to Lowe’s days producing for the legendary Stiff label).

Instead, I commend you to read Robert Christgau’s review, who hears things quite differently, and more in accord with my opinion:

Nick the Knife is a writer again, every song honed and there for a reason. With the likes of Ry Cooder and Jim Keltner spiking his wry cool, he yearns for yen, makes Boeing a modest proposal, spins off pungent epithets ("Refrigerator White"), nonsense syllables ("Shting-Shtang"), sexual metaphors ("Honeygun"). In a shameless bid for the rockcrit vote, he also finds the perfect rhyme for "ghastly" (starts with "Rick," lest you already forgot). And just like with Labour of Lust in 1979, he makes it sound so easy you expect a reprise a year for the rest of his life. A-

Lies/Liars: Vannevar Bush's Trails

buy Walter Becker "Book of Liars"
buy Steely Dan "Reelin in the Years"
buy Fleetwood Mac "Go Your Own Way"
buy Stevie Nicks "Stop Draggin My Heart Around"

I recently revisited the Feb 2015 print copy of Wired – specifically an article about Microsoft’s new CEO. Segments of Jessi Hempel’s article worth relating seemed to resonate with where I am vis-a-vis Star Maker blogging, (and  our theme of “lies”)

When Vannevar Bush first envisioned the Internet (his memex), the idea was that “trailblazers” could share their trails – the sequence of links they followed to get to a certain (re)source. More often than not, current web files lead us to the end rather than sharing the process and all the intermediary by-paths that might add value to our journeys. For most of us, searching for information about music related to lies, this would be a likely starting point:

Of the fairly decent list of links that appeared, my trail began at the top, and- partway down the list- I locked in on Steely Dan – mostly because, well … they had their heyday when I was a radio disk jockey and… because I like the jazz-rock mix

But I couldn’t place the song “Book of Liars”. Turns out it is a Walter Becker “solo” piece from a 1994 album (Alive in America) produced by the other ½ of Steely Dan, Donald Fagan, and then brought out again in 2004.

 

This got me thinking about other Steely Dan songs/lyrics. If we stretch the “lies” theme to include cheating lovers, our trail could wind on over to Reelin in the Years

 

(where they sing: “after all the things we’ve seen and done you go and find another man…” – cheat city)

 

Back to Vannevar Bush and his memex and his trailblazers. My thought process continued by following Steely Dan – at which point I saw that Steely Dan appeared on the TV show Midnight Special – and so did Fleetwood Mac, at about the same time. My YouTube right-side links (your results may vary) suggested I would like some Fleetwood Mac (Vanovar Bush in action).  I am not sure I have my Fleetwood Mac timeline down all that well, but .. well … there was a certain amount of spouse sharing, and it seems to me that there must have been a certain amount of lies going on there: hence: Go Your Own Way.

 

Again, the YouTube right-side link. This time: Tom Petty (and one-time Fleetwood Mac member Stevie Nicks. Stop Draggin My Heart ...

 

 

link ... to link ... to link ... Many lies...

 

LIES/LIAR: POLITICIAN, MOUTHFUL OF S***

As this fortnight runs out of it's allotted, I can't resist the opportunity to draw reference to the current situation in the U.K., it being that delightful spell of arguable (and certainly arguing) anarchy between governments. Parliament is dissolved, the date of the election is just under 4 weeks hence and this is the period of the "hustings": the individual parties clamouring the airwaves and newsprint for that soundbite that will lift them above the opposition, with all dirty tricks present and correct. So what has politics to do with lies and liars? Yeah, right...........

 I'm not going to go into the minutiae of who is who and likely winners and losers; the mother of Parliaments seems now to be a real mother of a Parliament right now and I instead draw your attentions, if interested, to a book: "The Establishment: and how they get away with it", by Owen Jones, an unashamedly leftist polemic. Given the author was born in 1984, make of that date and any Orwellism as you will, it gives delightful credence to why the heart of politics is a virtue of the young, with the head maybe coming later, but it also a timely reminder of why, maybe, these times are so anodyne.

Enough talk, music play on.... Two songs. Firstly, Cream, from 1969, I was assumed this to be a Jack Bruce/Pete Brown song, surprised to read otherwise, but I think the lyric rings as true as it ever did:

And how do we respond to politicians? The Chumba's say it best, this generally being dedicated to the politician of the day, which would tend to be, in their heyday, one Tony Bliar, sorry, Blair:

Buy Politician
Buy Mouthful of Shit (from the album "Anarchy", dontcha know!)
Buy Owen Jones

Lies/Liars: Wish it Was True

The White Buffalo Wish it Was True

Purchase: Wish it Was True

If I get a platform, no matter how small, I think I should use it. So, in reverence—I don’t know if that's the right word—I give you something beautiful and plaintive, suffused of subtle anger, a gorgeous song about lies. Lies we tell ourselves, lies that get told to us, that we have little choice other than to believe.

Wish it Was True, by the White Buffalo, is a gorgeous, end of the night, head against the wall wish that begs for more explanation than it offers--a dark, acoustic prayer, a rising hymn to heaven that asks not for help, but for answers. 

The White Buffalo serves as the band name/moniker for singer/songwriter Jake Smith. You’ve heard him if you are a fan of Sons of Anarchy. The White Buffalo plays plaintive, gorgeous, cowboy-sense-driven Americana rock. The songs are propelled by amazing, old-time-feel band, working in a unique, but traditional country western-sound scape. The White Buffalo are making true modern country western, while paying their altar boy-dues to a classic tradition. “Wish it Was True” is an  elegiac ballad, sung like a last breath effort on a death bed, asking various players why they didn’t tell the truth, saving the most pointed accusation for the speaker’s own country. It's the kind of song you have to listen to again and again, if only to feel along to Smith's simple, yet reaching lament in the song's gorgeous crescendo. This is a late night wish without an answer, heartbreaking in its honesty. He asks for polish to a 'blood and a bruise'--but there is no answer to the lies that were told, and the song shows that if we believe too much, too earnestly, we'll only end up "thrown away when you're through..." 

The White Buffalo are a modern cowboy band who transcends frontier and shame anything Nashville is passing off as ‘country-rock’ these days. Jake Smith is a gorgeous baritone with the sense and soul of a poet; his band has a thick, hillbilly backbone that grooves and pops like you’d want and expect of the most backwoods, front porch outfit. This is a true crossover band that ought to get a lot more listens than it does…a few more shootouts, a few more badass gangs riding into town, and you might just see Smith and Co. stalking down the sundown-lit street, come to gunsling you to safety. 

If you dig White Buffalo, then you have to listen to Smith's transcendent cover "The House of the Rising Sun" as well as this absolutely un-ironic cover of  the '80s metal tear-jerker  "House of Pain" by Faster Pussycat...yes...it's f@#$ing great...

LIES/LIARS: YOUR LIES

"Liar, Liar, your pants are on fire" runs the playground jibe, thereby encapsulating the ambivalence we embrace around untruth. Lies can either be the ultimate act of betrayal or just a little fib. Is there a difference? And what about white lies? Popular music is jam packed with all categories, but it is the songs of the spurned that appeal to me most, the songs of the betrayed, often bitter in their vitriol, and usually relating to discovered infidelities. Some of these songs are in the male voice, and will often be  full of self-pity and solace in alcohol. Far better those by the stronger sex, coming out fighting with harsh diatribes and withering words. Here's one of the best:

"Your lies won't leave me alone
you used to say you loved me did ya
why'd you do me this way
it didn't have to be that way

I got your message on the phone
I hung on every single line
you told me what we had was only business
hurt me so bad I had to sit down with the sickness
oh yeah

Your lies won't leave me alone
tore the phone out the wall and it's still ringin'
wreck the room and curtains ain't hangin' baby
guitar ain't playin'

Your lies won't leave me alone
look at your picture in the room I can see you were
never happy with me baby-
all my uncertainty is easy to see
how you're killin' me, cause

I got those bills you would not pay
the cost of our love is way too high and I just keep on
payin' baby
why'd you say you loved me - walk around and carry on,
hurting 'bout your love is gone, the song I sing is sad
and long, wonder if you are alone,
I don't know if I belong

Your lies won't leave me - alone"

This was the first track on Shelby Lynne's blistering mainstream breakthrough in 1999, I Am Shelby Lynne, having had a less distinguished country starlet career ahead of that. I recall hearing the album at the time, this opening song hitting me like a runaway train, the mix of strings, southern soul and venom sounding not quite like anything else out at that time, uncategorisable beyond great. The rest of it is equally good, but the running order is perfect, so as to give that thump almost immediately. Never sure whether it was or not to an errant lover, I prefer to imagine it was to her erstwhile bosses in her 13 years in Nashville prior to that. Seldom has a best newcomer Grammy been longer awaited or better deserved. With an onstage presence suggesting someone not to be messed with, and yet who has been frequently messed with, she helped open the door for other guitar slinging southern vixens, other slow burners such as Lucinda Williams and Susan Tedeschi coming to mind.

The sorry tale of Shelby's youth has oft been told, with the shotgun murder of her mother and the suicide of her father, with the same gun he had earlier used on her, this being supposedly responsible for her alleged difficult nature within the music business. Well, maybe, but what I find even more remarkable is the courage of the woman to succeed in life after such odds being stacked against her. Likewise that this upbringing should also produce her successful sibling, Allison Moorer, arguably ploughing a gentler path, though the lyrics of her recent break-up (with Steve Earle) album, Down To Believing might belie that, suggesting a similar steel runs through both girl's blood. Which is a good moment to introduce the two sisters playing this piece's title song again, together.

Here's the bonus version of the studio track to buy

Lies/Liars: White Lies

Jason & the Scorchers: White Lies
[purchase]

There are things from my past that I think that I remember perfectly, although sometimes other people have totally different recollections. My piece a while back about my visit to Gettysburg led to a spirited discussion from my friends about what actually happened, and now I have no idea how accurate my memory of the event was.

But for this story, I know that I have some serious lapses in memory, which is probably a good thing, because it allows me to tell it without naming names, which really don’t matter, anyway. And making stuff up, which I may well be doing, sort of fits the theme. So, be prepared for vagueness.

My senior year in college, I applied to law school. I did pretty well on my LSATs, had a non-embarrassing GPA from one of the most competitive and prestigious colleges in the country, and, according to the historical records in that college’s Career Planning Office, it seemed like I would have no problem getting into my first choice, a well-regarded school located in Greenwich Village. Of course, if I hadn’t been a know-it-all Ivy League senior, and had actually deigned to speak to one of the trained counselors paid to dispense wisdom to the likes of me, I strongly believe that I would have also applied to some safer schools. But I didn’t. And when the acceptances came out, I was shut out. It was, by all accounts, the hardest year to get into law school, and I whiffed. My parents displayed less disappointment than I expected (and I still don’t know if that was an act), and after graduation, I moved back home. With the help of my father, I got a job working at a big New York law firm. That failure to get accepted, and that job, ultimately led to me meeting my wife, so ultimately, it worked out for the best, but that’s not what this story is about.

For a while, I commuted into the city with my dad, and we have some funny stories about that, too. I worked at the firm, ironically Richard Nixon’s former firm, and applied again, this time hedging my bets and ending up accepted to Fordham Law School, which turned out to be a great experience for many reasons.

Fordham, at the time, had no dorms for the law school, located at Lincoln Center, in a very expensive part of New York. Luckily, my parents were willing to help out, and through a roommate finding service, I found an apartment that was within walking distance to school, with two guys my age. It was a pretty nice apartment—three bedrooms, living room and small kitchen in a modern, high rise building. Jerry Orbach, pre-Law & Order, lived there when he was on Broadway in 42nd Street. It was an illegal sublet, though, and I wasn’t on the lease. And, it turned out poorly.

The two guys were friends, either from college or high school, and they were working—one, I think, was at a talent agency and the other might have been at a financial services company. I don’t even remember their names. They seemed nice enough, but it soon became clear that my life—getting up, going to class, coming home, making dinner and studying, then watching TV or listening to music, didn’t really jibe with their working lifestyle, which included having disposable incomes. These guys had a friend who, I think, worked for a record company or music publishing company and was an aspiring songwriter. I don’t remember his name, either, but he actually succeeded. OK-using the few facts I actually remember, I think I found him on the Internet (but, to be fair, I’m not sure if it is really him)—he has a Wikipedia page, has written a bunch of middle of the roadish hits and jingles, recorded a few albums, sued Mariah Carey for plagiarism, and even owned the baseball that Mookie hit through Buckner’s legs. And we have 2 friends in common on Facebook, one of whom is a writer for this site. So, if you want, I bet you can find him, if that is him.

During this time period, I somehow heard about Jason & the Scorchers. I feel like I read about them in the newspaper, or maybe I heard something on the radio. They were what was then referred to as “cow-punk,” a mix of country and punk that predated “alt-country” as a thing. Their second EP featured an awesome cover of Dylan’s “Absolutely Sweet Marie,” which might be better than the original, and was, otherwise, kick-ass. My recollection is that this friend of my roommates had some way of getting the EP for me for free, and he did, which was very nice. It is possible, though, that I got it from one of my old record company contacts. I’m pretty sure, though, that I didn't pay for it.

Shortly before my Christmas break, my roommates asked me to move out, saying that they wanted a friend (that friend?) to move in. I really had little leverage, so I moved out, because who would want to be in that situation and moved back home briefly. After the holidays, I moved into an apartment in a much crappier building in a slightly sketchier neighborhood, which I ultimately shared with my good friend Bill, and where we were living when Bill introduced me to my wife. A couple of years later, Jason & the Scorchers released their first full album, Lost and Found, which was also great, and included today’s featured song, “White Lies.” Their next album, though, wasn’t so great, and they found themselves considered too country for rock radio, and too rock for country radio, because, apparently, Uncle Tupelo didn’t exist yet to kick off the alt-country/Americana revival (I know, that’s not really true). But, clearly, they were ahead of their time, and unfortunately faded into oblivion (with the obligatory recent reunion that hasn’t seemed to get much traction). Here’s a professional music writer’s fairly recent reminiscence about the band.

Did my former roommates really want their friend to move in, or did they just want me out? Was it the truth, or just a white lie? Maybe if I remembered their names, I could try to track them down and ask.