Editor’s note:Arachnophonia is a regular feature on our blog where members of the UR community can share their thoughts about resources from the Parsons Music Library‘s collection.
Today’s installment of Arachnophonia is by student worker Lauren (class of 2023) and features Back To Black, the second and final studio album by English singer-songwriter Amy Winehouse. Thanks, Lauren!
Back to Black by Amy Winehouse is one of the most influential albums of all time that served to inspire the next wave of female artists such as Adele and Florence and the Machine. Amy Winehouse was an English singer with a uniquely soulful and expressive vocal repertoire. Her music is reminiscent of blues, jazz, and soul by conveying a deep and emotional mood. Not only was her music so revolutionary for its new sound, but it was also reflective of her life and personal struggles. The song “Rehab” featured on the album reflects on the protagonist’s desire to avoid going to rehab for alcohol abuse, unfortunately foreshadowing the singer’s demise. This album may be used for research in order to understand more about Winehouse’s personal emotions, or to learn how she influenced later female artists.
Personally, Amy Winehouse has been someone I’ve admired for her empowering songs and unique character. Even though she has since passed, she remains an iconic musical artist, whose music will be remembered forever. When I listen to Back to Black, I am immediately transported into another time-period and empowered by my femininity.
Editor’s note:Arachnophonia is a regular feature on our blog where members of the UR community can share their thoughts about resources from the Parsons Music Library‘s collection.
The Red Hot Chili Peppers are the most successful alternative rock group of all time. Typically, you’d expect a band to reduce themselves to the lowest common denominator to find success en masse, but the Peppers managed to climb to the top while staying as perfectly weird and beautifully musical as ever. The key behind their success, of course, lies with the band members — and though their lineup has changed a handful of times over the years, there’s no doubt about the definitive Chili Peppers crew. Anthony Kiedis and Flea have been there since the beginning as the lifeblood of the group. Kiedis acts as both the face and voice of the group, and though neither his singing nor his lyricism has ever left me in awe, he remains consistent and passionate in every performance he gives. Flea, of course, is one of the best bassists of all time, and is allowed by the band to shine more so than in almost any other group. Chad Smith, as the definitive drummer, acts as the backbone of the group—and famously resembles Will Ferrell.
LOS ANGELES, CA – NOVEMBER 04: (L-R) Recording artists Flea, Anthony Kiedis and Chad Smith of the Red Hot Chili Peppers attend a signing for their book “The Red Hot Chili Peppers” at Barnes & Noble at The Grove on November 4, 2010 in Los Angeles, California. (Photo by David Livingston/Getty Images)
And then, as the final member of the definitive loadout, there’s John Frusciante. Over the years, Frusciante came and left the group due to bouts with drug addiction and mental illness, eventually parting with the band for good in 2009. To an onlooker, he looks just like any other skilled guitarist, but to the Chili Peppers, he was the brains. His talents as a songwriter were unparalleled in the group, and he excelled at writing songs that succeeded in three parts: they allowed everyone in the group to shine, they appealed to a massive audience, and they sounded uniquely phenomenal. While he wrote many incredible songs during his tenure with the band, there is no better example than his final album with the Peppers: Stadium Arcadium.
The Chili Peppers circa 2006 – L-R John Frusciante, Chad Smith, Anthony Kiedis, and Flea
In many ways, Stadium Arcadium is the group’s magnum opus. It’s their longest record, with an astonishing 28 tracks and over 2 hours of run time — but has enough raw content to keep you hooked throughout. It was their first album to debut at number one, marking the group officially as the behemoth they had become. And finally, it brought the band back in touch with their funk roots, combining with their newfound mastery of rock to create, in my opinion, their best work. Across the record, the band stays strong but varied. We ease into things with a song that would top the rock charts for weeks and pick up 2 Grammys along the way: “Dani California.” It’s a very on-brand song for the group—a nice, groovy start with Flea and Frusciante battling for the melody, Smith keeping things moving with a punchy beat, and Kiedis practically rapping over the other members. Finally, Kiedis breaks into song, moving into a grungy, distorted chorus. The appeal of RHCP can be seen perfectly here. You only need to hear the chorus once, and you’ll happily be singing along—the words are simple, yet carry a certain amount of emotion and edginess. For teen America, it was a perfect recipe for success. Finally, late in the song, you hear the first of many Frusciante solos — an aspect unique to Stadium Arcadium. Of course, he performed solos in other songs, but the solos on Stadium Arcadium were completely improvised. He doesn’t sacrifice an ounce of quality, but this fact brings another raw layer of authenticity to the album.
They don’t pull any punches with the second track, either. “Snow (Hey Oh)” was the first RHCP song I heard, and is likely the most iconic in my mind to this day. It’s light, intricate, sonically beautiful, and an absolute pain to play on guitar. The rest of the 1st disk (named Jupiter —something Spotify won’t tell you) flows back and forth from funk to finesse, before finally landing on “Wet Sand” and “Hey,” two songs that pull back from the fun, upbeat pace and end things on a somber note. “Wet Sand” dives into the difficulty of loving the dark side of a person jointly with the good, ending finally with a repetitive bridge that provides an analogy to being unable to rely on your loved ones during times of struggle, having to, instead, find strength within. “Hey” is almost the continuation of “Wet Sand,” as it talks of the difficulty—but necessity—of breakups. This eloquent end to an otherwise happy disk serves as a cliffhanger, leaving you ready to jump into the second side — Mars.
The album immediately continues in a somber fashion, with the classic Frusciante anthem “Desecration Smile.” One of my favorite techniques that Frusciante employs (as a guitarist myself) is at the forefront in this song, just as with my favorite Chili Peppers song: “I Could Have Lied” (sadly, not on this album). He combines the acoustic verse with an electric chorus, bringing the song to a crescendo when it most needs it, then calmly returning to a low key verse that juxtaposes the chorus without skipping a beat. The rest of the “Mars” side continues in a similar fashion as “Jupiter,” crescendoing into a funky midsection, but with a much more laid back and melodic aesthetic. It’s almost as if the band wants you to sing and dance your heart out on Jupiter, then collapse and just enjoy the more articulate words and melodies of Mars.
Mars ends beautifully with their first homage to the space theme (though not represented lyrically), “Death of a Martian.” Martian was Flea’s dog, one that the group became infatuated with during practices at Flea’s house. The meaning of the song was a happy surprise to Flea, who remarks on it during the CD commentary. Finally, Kiedis ends with a chanting spoken word—apparently a poem he took a particular liking to. As a message, the final track delivers little, but it’s a perfectly “RHCP” song: one that celebrates both their goofiness and empathy. The Red Hot Chili Peppers are a goofy rock band. But, as perfectly demonstrated on Stadium Arcadium, they are extremely competent at both music and songwriting. They can break out into a distorted, rocky fanfare, and they can wallow in funky baselines, but they have a complex past, but individually and united. On Stadium Arcadium, they pay tribute to both sides. For a farewell album, Frusciante couldn’t have picked better—and the heart he put into the record is at a perfect forefront. It marks the end of an era, but it does so with finesse.
Editor’s note:Arachnophonia is a regular feature on our blog where members of the UR community can share their thoughts about resources from the Parsons Music Library‘s collection.
Franz Ferdinand are a Scottish Rock Band founded in Glasgow who’ve achieved worldwide success throughout the past decade and a half making post-punk revival music. Franz Ferdinand’s best work struck the world in their first ever album, you guessed it… Franz Ferdinand. Released on February 9th, 2004, the album launched Franz Ferdinand to international fame with over a million copies sold in both the United Kingdom and the United States and received a Grammy nomination for best Alternative Album in 2004.
The album has a quiet start with the soft intro of the first song on the album, “Jacqueline”, before the band explodes showcasing their eccentric talent. The album is rooted by its hit classics such as “Take Me Out” and “Michael” which blend the perfect combination of dance-rock rhythms and light pop hooks. Songs like “The Dark of the Matinee” and “Darts of Pleasure” surround your ears with a dark and soothing rhythm but almost juvenile lyrics which keep the bittersweet taste of the whole album. My personal favorite song “Auf Achse” appears melancholy at first glance but features a powerful background of instrumental talent that moves you along as if you’re feeling their world around you.
If you’re into any form of indie / alternative rock music and you’re feeling nostalgic for the early zips, this is the album for you. Even if you’ve already listened to it on repeat the past week like I have.
Editor’s note:Arachnophonia is a regular feature on our blog where members of the UR community can share their thoughts about resources from the Parsons Music Library‘s collection.
The Black Keys have always been one of those bands where I couldn’t name a single one of their songs off the top of my head, yet I know all the words to nearly every one I hear. Looking back, they very well could’ve been considered my favorite band for how often I listened to their music and how much I liked it.
I can’t say exactly why I never committed titles to memory; it certainly wasn’t because they were forgettable songs. Rather, I think it was the sheer fact that, at the height of their popularity, their music was so genre-defining and omnipresent that I only needed to hum the melody or say a few lines from the chorus, and anyone would know what song I was referring to. Take the song “Tighten Up” for instance. If you don’t recognize it from the title, listen to the first few bars of the track and wait for the instant hit of nostalgia.
The group consists of two friends from Akron, Ohio: Dan Auerbach on guitar and vocals and Patrick Carney on drums. They started the band in 2001, and like all good grassroots garage bands, dropped out of college to pursue their bluesy-rock sound and slowly built an underground fan base through extensive touring, frequent album releases, and music festival appearances until their commercial breakthrough in 2010. This album, Brothers, catapulted them from garage indie band to one of the most popular and famous bands in their genre and winning them three Grammy Awards in the process.
For me, they defined a pivotal era in my music history. Being a child who grew up on her dad’s CD collection of alternative rock albums from the 70s and 80s, The Black Keys were one of the first bands that I discovered all on my own and shaped what I would listen to from then on. They drove me to find other music like theirs: the type of music that couldn’t have been written at any other time, yet still feels timeless.
Editor’s note:Arachnophonia is a regular feature on our blog where members of the UR community can share their thoughts about resources from the Parsons Music Library‘s collection.
I’m fascinated by the vocal talent of musicians and for some reason, I discover a lot of artists that I enjoy through listening to covers of their songs by a cappella groups on YouTube. I had no idea who George Ezra was until I listened to the Trinitones perform a mash-up of “Barcelona,” “Budapest” and “Paradise” over a year ago. The all-male group surprised me with their impressive talent, but also with the arrangement of the songs. I was familiar with the song “Budapest” because it had been playing on radio stations at the time, but the artist behind the song had escaped my familiarity. After listening to Wanted on Voyage however, George Ezra has become a frequent artist on my Spotify playlists.
Wanted on Voyage is Ezra’s debut album released in the UK in 2014. He had first been discovered by Columbia Records in 2012 from his videos on YouTube performing his own original songs. After being contracted to work for Columbia Records, Ezra found inspiration for his album in 2013 when he traveled by train across Europe, writing about the places he visited and the people he met. From this collection of memories, Ezra sat down and penned the songs for the album, immortalizing his journey.
The album gained many positive reviews on release, attributing the success to the relatively simple composition of the songs that are dramatically enhanced by Ezra’s ability to sing. A vital characteristic to Ezra’s music is his voice, which is naturally lower than many popular artists. The pitch of his voice adds flavor to his songs that make it appear as if these songs only fit the register that Ezra is able to perform in. Some highlights of the album for me are “Budapest” and “Barcelona,” which is not a surprise considering these are the songs that led me to George Ezra’s music. The mix between Ezra’s incredible voice and the instrumentation and production on both tracks really drives home the idea of why I enjoy his music so much. Another track I enjoy is “Did You Hear The Rain?” which was released as the first single from the album.
Wanted on Voyage is a fantastic album that does not try to create complicated music. The purity of the instrumentation and vocals shine through on every track. George Ezra actually filmed a Mahogany Session video for “Budapest,” which is a video series that allows artists to acoustically perform some of their most famous songs for the world to gain a more intimate view of the artist. This particular video is great, because I honestly cannot tell the difference in the quality of Ezra’s singing between the video and the recorded song from the album. Wanted on Voyage truly shines as Ezra’s first step into the musical world and it manifested a popularity around him that still holds true to this day.
Editor’s note:Arachnophonia is a regular feature on our blog where members of the UR community can share their thoughts about resources from the Parsons Music Library‘s collection.
To me, John Mayer stands as one of the most interesting musical icons of my childhood. Originally making his name as a pop-rock singer-songwriter, Mayer garnered attention early in his career for his guitar ability (he attended Berklee College of Music’s guitar program for two semesters). After the success of his 2001 debut Room for Squares (for which he won his first Grammy) and 2003’s Heavier Things, Mayer pivoted when he released Try! (2005), a blues record released under the moniker of the John Mayer Trio. With his most acclaimed album, Continuum (2006), Mayer sought to unite his earlier pop-rock stylings with his recent efforts in blues.
Though for whatever reason, it’s Mayer’s first album, Room for Squares, that I find myself listening to more often than his more acclaimed and successful releases. I fully agree that Continuum is a masterfully executed record that showcases the best of his songwriting ability. And Where The Light Is: John Mayer Live in Los Angeles (2008) might be my favorite live album of all time. But there’s something wonderfully innocent about Room for Squares absent in his other works, like the lovable arrogance with which Mayer scoffs at those who doubted his decision to drop out in “No Such Thing”:
“I want to run through the halls of my high school
I want to scream at the
Top of my lungs
I just found out there’s no such thing as the real world
Just a lie you’ve got to rise above”
And then immediately doubts himself in “Why Georgia”:
“’Cause I wonder sometimes
About the outcome
Of a still verdictless life
Am I living it right?”
Or maybe it has more to do with the fact that, to me, the album itself is seems distanced from the controversy-plagued, self-proclaimed “ego addict” that Mayer eventually become known as. Contrast this with his 2003 acceptance speech for his first Grammy award (for “Your Body Is a Wonderland” off of Room for Squares), in which Mayer remarked “this is very, very fast and I promise to catch up,” and you might begin to appreciate the sort of unspoiled innocence of Meyer’s debut, and indeed, his early career as a whole. Regardless, Room for Squares remains an often stunning debut (see: guitar part on “Neon”) from a man who would go on to change the landscapes of both pop and blues music.
John Mayer playing live at Tower Records in Atlanta, Georgia 2001
Editor’s note:Arachnophonia is a regular feature on our blog where members of the UR community can share their thoughts about resources from the Parsons Music Library‘s collection.
John Mayer, the egotistical, narcissistic, prodigious, reformed paradox of a musician is by far my favorite artist of all time. When people think of John Mayer, they typically think of him for one of two things: his iconic love songs or TMZ headlines articulating exactly how he broke Katy Perry’s/Taylor Swift’s/Kim Kardashian’s/Jennifer Anniston’s heart. Either way, I rarely see people appreciating his musical talent or his raw songwriting genius. There’s a reason Eric Clapton calls him a “master” guitarist. And for me, there’s no better example of this mastery than on his fifth studio album, Born and Raised.
You wouldn’t guess it at first, Mayer often speaks in interviews about how his favorite type of music to write is blues. You get hints of this on sprinkled across his other hit albums, but Born and Raised is his real tribute to this passion. From first looking at the album art, it becomes apparent that this is no ordinary album from hit-machine John. There’s no photo of Mayer trying to seem like he doesn’t know his picture is being taken, and no angsty black and white filter over the whole image. No, Born and Raised sports old-fashioned text intertwined with clockwork, adorned with phrases such as “Music by John Mayer” and “Stereo Recorded Sound.” No glitz or glam, no profile shots algorithmically calculated to get girls to pick up the tape. Just the title, and a little style to set the tone.
Now, the music. The tracks on this album are slow, gentle folk songs, with a Mayeresque vibe to them. It opens with “Queen of California,” as Mayer immediately flexes his technical muscles with a flowing, articulated, methodical guitar riff cover almost the entire length of the song. It almost sounds like “Why Georgia” at first, but the album’s themes sink in after a spell. A gentle, clean electric guitar accents the track with smooth bends which work alongside Mayer’s voice to keep you interested.
Another highlight of the album comes with the fifth track, “Something Like Olivia.” If you’re still questioning Mayer’s prowess on the guitar, just watch the music video on YouTube. The fact that he can keep this riff going effortlessly whilst singing is beyond me, and the studio version certainly displays his mastery well. The lyrics are repetitive yet meaningful, and the chorus is easy to sing along to. “Something Like Olivia” is about a girl, but it’s not a love song. It’s a jam.
Finally, we have the title track. “Born and Raised” is deservingly named after the album (or… vice versa?), as the simple chord progression leaves Mayer’s voice at the forefront. A harmonica finishes out each chorus in lieu of a guitar solo, an ode to the unique blues/country rock theme of this album. Lyrically, “Born and Raised” is a strong track, telling the story of how he feels that life has passed him by, and how he no longer feels like he has dreams to work towards: “I still have dreams, they’re not the same/They don’t fly as high as they used to/I saw my friend, he’s in my head/And he said, ‘You don’t remember me do you?’”
As a whole, Born and Raised is a break from Mayer’s routine, and it feels like the first album he made more for himself than for the public. It’s not a collection of hits, and it’s not a collection of his best guitar playing. It’s a collection of jams, and though he would continue his adventure into Americana with his next album, Paradise Valley, it was a testament to the kind of music Mayer wanted to make. If nothing else, it’s a collection of good songs, and an album I think everyone should listen to.
Editor’s note:Arachnophonia is a regular feature on our blog where members of the UR community can share their thoughts about resources from the Parsons Music Library‘s collection.
When I was 12 years old, my mother took me to my first concert. My love for music had become exceedingly apparent to my parents, and they figured that 12 years old was an appropriate age to expose me to live music.
My mother is a huge classic rock fan, so growing up I was fed a strict diet of Fleetwood Mac, Rolling Stones, Beatles, and other such legendary bands. However, my favorite band growing up was The Allman Brothers. Gregg Allman’s lyrics and Duane Allman’s guitar (later Dickey Betts’ guitar) constantly played over our car’s sound system during rides short and long. They were coming to our area around my birthday, so my mother decided to get us tickets. Now, although the members were in their old age, and weren’t in their prime anymore, I still believe that to this day it was one of the best concerts I have ever been to.
The Allman Brothers Band circa 1971 – Butch Trucks, Gregg Allman, Berry Oakley, Jaimoe Johanson, & Dickey Betts (L-R)
I wish I had a recording of the night, but unfortunately they weren’t taping this particular concert. The Music Library, however, has The Allman Brothers Band at Fillmore East on CD. A CD that I believe my mother and I listen to quite frequently on trips. There’s nothing better than live music, and nothing better than The Allman Brothers live; I highly recommend listening to this particular recording because it ends with two of my absolute favorite Allman Brothers songs: “In Memory of Elizabeth Reed” and “Whipping Post.”
“In Memory of Elizabeth Reed” is the first instrumental track the Allman Brothers Band wrote. It was written by Dickey Betts who dedicated it to a woman with whom he had had an affair with after she had passed away. This woman was actually Boz Scaggs’ girlfriend, but Dickey changed the name to keep their tryst a secret. Fun fact: the woman is buried in the same graveyard where Duane Allman is buried, and Dickey frequently visited to pay his respects and to write songs. He lifted the name “Elizabeth Reed” from a tombstone near where he used to write.
“Whipping Post” is a hard-hitting, in your face rock song about the torment of being in love with a woman who doesn’t love you back, even when you bend over backwards for her. Its powerful lyrics and driving rhythm really foreshadowed the Allman Brothers’ future success, as “Whipping Post” was one of the first songs written by the band. The song itself is actually quite difficult to play because the track is written in 11/4. Gregg Allman, who didn’t know how to read sheet music at first, had to ask Duane how to count it because he thought the rhythm felt wrong (rightfully so).
Editor’s note:Arachnophonia is a regular feature on our blog where members of the UR community can share their thoughts about resources from the Parsons Music Library‘s collection.
Today’s installment of Arachnophonia is by student worker Gabriela (class of 2020) and features the rock opera Tommy, originally released by the Who in 1969. Thanks, Gabi!
I grew up listening to classic rock. My father played anything from The Beatles, to Led Zeppelin, to The Eagles for me from the moment I was born, and this is something I cherish greatly. Not only did it bring us closer together, but it sparked my interest in music and shaped music taste from a young age. The Who was particularly special to my father and me, and nothing was more special than Tommy.
I remember listening to the Tommy CD in my dad’s old Saturn Vue on the way to school. It was magical, and the first time that the classic rock sound I knew so well sounded like something completely different. Tommy is a rock opera written by The Who’s guitar player, Pete Townshend, and performed by the entirety of the band. It tells the story of a deaf, mute and blind boy who relies on his imagination to get him through his difficult life, and even develops a sense of touch that is strong enough to make him a champion at pinball. Like a musical, Tommy’s fascinating odyssey is told through music, as each song describes a different episode in his life.
In some cases, the detailed nature of Townshend’s songwriting makes the narrative easy enough to follow along with no visual component necessary. For example, the lyrics in the songs “Cousin Kevin,” where the listener learns of Tommy’s abusive relative, and “Go to the Mirror!,” where Tommy’s doctor finally determines the source of his disabilities, are straightforward and descriptive. However, some of the most powerful moments on the album exist within the instrumentals, where the music creates such a strong sense of imagery and emotion that it puts the listener in Tommy’s shoes without even using a lyric. The instrumental “Sparks” represents the “Amazing Journey” described to the listener immediately before it, and takes us along for the ride that is Tommy’s fascinating mind.
The Who in July 1969: L-R: Guitarist Pete Townshend, singer Roger Daltrey, drummer Keith Moon (1947-1978), and bassist John Entwistle (1944 – 2002) pose around a table for a feature in Vogue magazine. (Photo by Jack Robinson/Hulton Archive/Getty Images)
I don’t know if I could pick a favorite song today, but I remember my first favorite was “Sally Simpson,” a moment in which the main plot of Tommy is interrupted to tell the story of a young girl. Even the upbeat musical tone of the song itself seems to deviate from what the listener has heard on the album thus far. Here, Townshend further demonstrates his genius through the use of metafiction, or a story within a story. Sally, a young girl, is one of Tommy’s superfans who sneaks out of the house to watch Tommy speak, and is ultimately injured badly when she tries to get on stage to touch him. Although Sally’s life directly connects with Tommy’s, through her separate story, the listener gets an outsider’s perspective on how Tommy’s fame is impacting everyday people.
Listening to Tommy is a musical experience unlike any other. Not only is the story itself unique and full of lessons, but Townshend’s brilliant songwriting pairs so perfectly with the storytelling and singing of Roger Daltrey. Listening to Tommy is reading a novel you just can’t seem to put down; it is watching a movie where you want to catch everything so you try not to blink. The album even inspired a movie of the same name featuring a star-studded cast, and a subsequent Broadway musical. How many albums do you know that fit this description?
Poster for the 1975 movie version of Tommy (l) and for the 1993 Broadway production (r)
Most kids probably can’t sing along to “The Acid Queen,” (maybe for a good reason) but I’m thankful that I knew the words, even if I didn’t understand what it meant. I didn’t have to understand it to know it was something special. Thanks dad, for putting Tommy on in the car and eventually taking me to watch Roger Daltrey himself perform the album live in its entirety.
Editor’s note:Arachnophonia is a regular feature on our blog where members of the UR community can share their thoughts about resources from the Parsons Music Library‘s collection.
If you would care to, imagine a flustered 13 year old girl who cut her own ragged side bangs, refused to wear colors other than red and black, and printed out pages and pages of My Chemical Romance lyrics to memorize before bed each night.
This was my reality in middle school. My parents hated it. I loved it.
When I began listening to MCR, they had recently released their 2006 album, The Black Parade, a musical narrative telling the story of ‘The Patient’ who falls ill and dies, experiences the afterlife and reflects on the life he led. With the album came the platinum hair of Gerard Way (he had a different hair color for almost every album) and the peak popularity of the band’s career. The most popular song on the album, “Welcome to the Black Parade,” I played during my 7th grade piano recital, to my parents’ horror (ahh memories). The music video very accurately characterizes the theme, energy, and story continued throughout the album.
One of the things I love most about MCR is how they weave each album’s music into a crazy, creative and awe-inspiring narrative, and continue that narrative through music videos and live performances. It makes listening to their music an active experience. This was also demonstrated through their 2010 album, Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys, which featured a corresponding comic book series published by Dark Horse as well as a full
character costume for each band member – and cherry red hair for Gerard Way.
MCR Danger Days promo photo
You know I have every issue of that comic series in my room at home, by the way.
The extent to which I immersed myself in The Black Parade, (along with all of MCR’s albums) has made such a lasting impact on me. Twelve years later and I still consistently listen to my favorite band from middle school – those years are impactful and to this day I have not felt the same connection to any artist or group as I felt and still feel to My Chemical Romance.
