Rediscovered this as I was uploading an audio clip for Belle Epoque (this is next alphabetically in my 45's).

I can't work out whether this is joyous or heartbreaking. It eats into the very soul of you when you hear it. My, that sounds dramatic - different from my usual carping. Tinkles on the piano break up the dense atmosphere herein and get you into the claustrophobic world of singer Drita.

Stands alone in 1984. Nothing else sounded anything like it.

it's about time i recommended some vreeswijk. after all he's one of my very favourite artsts, and pretty obscure outside scandinavia. it's hard to decide wich song to post, as i guess you'd have to be scandinavian to enjoy the masterful, deceptivly simple lyrics. the best way to describe the man is as kind of a swedish crossbred of serge gainsbourg, tom waits and bob dylan.
this is one of his best-known songs, a qusasi-joyous melancholy number about death and hopelessness.
i once heard someone say something that summed up the power of this guy pretty well: "I don�t understand swedish, however I do understand Cornelis Vreeswijk"


the best place to start if you're interested n an initial taste, is probably the new 2-cd set. if you're like me, youll soon advance to the original lp's and the 5-cd set "master cees memoarer".

lyrics:
Somliga g�r med trasiga skor, s�g vad beror det p�?
Gud fader som i himmelen bor kanske vill ha det s�.
Gud fader som i himmelen bor blundar och sover s�tt. Vem bryr sig om ett par trasiga skor n�r man �r gammal och tr�tt?
Vem bryr sig om hur dagarna g�r? Dom vandrar som dom vill.
Medborgare, om ett hundra �r finns du ej l�ngre till.
D� har n�n annan tagit din stol, det vet du inte av.
Du k�nner varken regn eller sol ner i din m�rka grav.
Vem bryr sig om hur n�tterna far? Jag bryr mig inte ett sp�r. Bara jag f�r ha mitt ansikte kvar dolt i min �lsklings h�r.
Jag �r en tvivelaktig figur, duger ej mycket till. Bakom ett h�rn st�r d�den p� lur, han tar mig n�r han vill.
Somliga g�r med trasiga skor tills dom har slutat g�. Dj�vulen som i helvetet bor f�r sig ett gott skratt d�
a very, very bad and rushed translation of the lyrics,most of the humor and finer points are lost but at least you'll know what's it about:

some walk around in bad shoes, say, why is is it so?
maybe the good lord up in the sky wants it that way.
the good lord up in the sky sleeps calmly now.
who cares about a pair of bad shoes when they are old and tired?
who cares how the days pass? they go the way the want.
fellow citizen, in a hundred years you will no longer exist.
someone else will have taken your chair, but you won't know about that.
you'll feel neither rain nor sun, down in your dark grave.
who cares how the nights pass? i don't care at all.
as long as i get to keep my my face tucked in my love's hair.
i'm a questionable character, not good for much.
behind a corner death lurks, he'll take me whenever he wants.
some walk around in bad shoes/ until hey walk no more
the devil, who lives down in the hell/ will have a good laugh then.

A Detroit take on Kraftwerk,Depeche Mode and European Disco,sparse remote synthetic drums and bass lines,and squelching fat melody lines that you can still hear in todays pop and R and b (Justin Timberlake,Timbaland ,Lady Ga Ga ),lends heavily from Trans European Express but is also looser and a tad more joyous .

on a post-moldy peaches roll today.
lo-fi, blackly humorous, unrelenting singer-songwriter antifolk material. the lyrics are a stream-of-consciousness portrait of life in lower-class america, filled with weirdo pop culture references. i fell in love with this song from a badly recorded live version, available on her homepage: http://www.kimyadawson.com/audio/10_Kimya_Dawson_-_The_Beer.mp3
there`s an album version of the track on "my cute friend sweet princess", but i think it lacks a lot of the drive from the live recording (and the sound quality`s not really that much better, anyway. i wonder how this would sound on one of those ludicrously expensive hi fi sets that guys in cornflower-blue shirts tend to buy)

"even though i`ve never ever been in a band,
i`ve got cool as black ice tattooed on my hand.." gotta love that line.

Ad Gloriam is a beautiful, light, joyous psychedelic pop song. It's built on looping melodic layers of sound by the standard guitar/bass/drum combo as well as piano and background vocals. I challenge anyone not to smile when they hear this track.

This song has a very interesting sound using steal drums among other things to create a steady and bright beat. The artist's voice is beautiful and light, combinig perfectly with the song's meaning and the instrumental parts.

'Metal Warriors' is Manowar's call to arms, a joyous rallying cry to all the "Brothers of True Metal" of the world. Stand tall and proud, they implore, for the magic of the metal has brought you here. The power within each and every one unites them, and to exclusion of everybody else ("if you're not into metal, you are not my friend!"). Anyone that tries to suppress their might will be met with fearless defiance, "we don't turn down for anyone, we do just what we please!". And they live and die metal, and will not tolerate fakes and frauds and softies, "heavy metal, or no metal at all, wimps and posers, leave the hall!" rings out the epic chorus, "heavy metal, or no metal at all, wimps and posers� go on get out!"

So, anyway, put your reservations aside and head out into the streets to find this one, just this one*, awesome, thumping Manowar track. Spinal Tap were playing for laughs, this however, is frighteningly real.

*although 'Achilles, Agony, and Ecstasy in Eight Parts: Prelude/I. Hector Storms' their 30 minute interpretation of Homer's Iliad is certainly worth a listen.

Memory's a funny thing. Especially romantic memory.
The first time I heard this song was two days after the first time I fell in love. Everywhere I went, I sang its earnest chorus "And you are always on my mind" in my head, thinking about the one I was in love with. In the shower staring at a bottle of hair conditioner, I sang, "You are always on my mind". On the subway, trying to ignore a potential fistfight about to break out, I sang, "You are always on my mind". In the supermarket produce section, holding the perfect shape of a lemon in my hand, I sang, "You are always on my mind". I was giddy and happy and the song understood. "Hey!" the song said, "Hey!" Will Oldman sang, "I got a new partner now!"
But jacket weather set in and things grew colder and we broke up and I was miserable and I stored the CD away on a top shelf with other memorabilia of that love who's happy power was really freakin' painful for me to think about now.
Things weren't always so bleak and I got me a new love and some years later, when I listened to the song again, I noticed something about the lyrics I hadn't before. See, in reality, the song isn't joyous at all. Will Oldman is singing about a past love, a love who is always on his mind when all the time he is seeing another girl, a different girl from the one always on his mind. He can't be with that girl. He has a new partner now. What I thought was a song about new joy was a song about nostalgic loss.
I didn't see how it was possible that I had suppressed that true meaning for as long as I had, considering how often I sang the song and how much it meant to me at the time. I knew the lyrics like the back of my hand and when I listen to music I dredge up all I can get from the lyrics like I'm a devout scribe interpreting the bible.
One of the beauties of pop songs is that they take on the flavour of your life at the time you listened to them and carry that flavour on to whenever you listen to the song again, while meanwhile you're morphing and changing and discarding what songs you don't want to remember that you loved and making mixed Cd's for long cartrips of the songs you do you do want to remember. This song is weird in that IT seemed to be the one that was morphing the next time I heard it and not me, like it was a person that had changed over time that I was encountering again.
Besides which, what a fucking lovely song it is.

Brilliant wordless vocal/scat Latin jazz-pop from the mid-70's!

The day I bought this LP I got home late so I only had time to throw on the first track of the first side before my girlfriend asked me to turn it off. As soon as I heard it I knew immediately that I wanted to hear it again. I woke up with the song bouncing in my head. I was gonna be late to work, but I recorded the song so I could listen to it on the commute. I must have listened to it all the way to work and all the way home, so about 30 times before I tired of it. Why is it so great, you ask? I would say it was the Stevie factor as he wrote, produced and played nearly all of the instruments on this, his writing partner's debut album, but Syreeta really wails on her vocal parts infusing the song with an undeniable optimism. This was the year when Stevie really started to get adventerous with his music and you can tell that he took some additional liberties on this album then he did on his own from the same period, Music of My Mind. His version of this song from his album is great, but doesn't have the same synthesizer groove that bubbles along with the funky drums like syreeta's does. Marvelous song. I gave it to a friend and within days his friends' minds were all blown as well.

A bubbling almost loop like backing track punctuated by David Byrnes deranged t.v evangelist style exclamations "My god this is not my beautiful house ,this is not my beautiful wife,what have i done"? .Then a stroke of genius to pull the song back from the edge of avant garde ,a joyous funky ,gospel inspired chorus .A band at their most inspired and confident with the wizardry of Eno pressing all the right buttons.Hard to believe no one has recomended this before.

To me, songs like this best express the genius of Brian Wilson. Listen to the tender lyrics and vocal on this...this is the happiest he has ever sounded. (Given the time that this was recorded, it's almost depressing...this was probably also the last time in his life that he was truly happy. What the more poetic call bittersweet?) Yet, this is so mellow and unassuming. It's blissful, joyous - and above all else, madly in love, as evidenced by the spoken "I love you." at the end. The writing credits lists Wilson-Love, but all I can hear is Brian here. Mike Love was never this genuine.

As for the arrangement, it hints at what was to come with "Pet Sounds". Fender bass! Tambourines! Harpsichords! It's a beautiful thing, and Sonny Bono built his career off of it. Sleep well, sweet Congressman.

The Cure meets Tamlla Motown ,well sort of, the ideas in Robert Smiths head celebrated the sound of black America yet still kept their fledgling gothic credentials intact.A syncopated bass line and drum pattern is supported by a persistant but low fi organ ,the song goes from sinister and unerving to joyous and euphoric in just a couple of minutes thanks to some well timed horns and hand claps whilst the original rhythym never misses a beat.A time when any band could try any thing and occasionally meet with a happy accident.

This one track alone contains all the swagger and danger that made The Mondays musics public enemy number one ,a bunch of bad boy Mancs led by two brothers years before that other bunch of bad boy Mancs led by two brothers ,rockin and funky and joyous .

The epitome of joyous, alive, who gives a sh*t rock'n'roll, with a slight blue eyed soul feeling and great horns. Everyone needs a song like this in their life.

Sensational songwriting from Jackie McAuley. Judy Dyble's sweet harmonies add a layer of delight to this joyously uplifting song. It was sunset on the Greek island of Koufonissi when I first heard this, but thankfully it sounded even better the next time I heard it (on a cold rainy day in Edinburgh).

Merely one of dozens of killer Simonal tracks (my favorite male Brazilian voice outside of Milton Nascimento), this one is a stellar example of joyous 60s pop, impossible to hear without seeing images of mini-skirt-clad girls dancing away on American Bandstand or something. Handclaps, a "pa-pa-pa-pa-pa" hook in the chorus, Stax-style horns, Simonal's deep, rich wonder of a voice, what more do you want?