This is one of my favorite songs of all time. Very cool soul-jazz, with vicious, biting lyrics. "Money can buy you silk and sable/false religion/fame and fable". Young and Holt even manage to get a dig in at their former boss Ramsey Lewis by mockingly quoting from his big hit "Wade in the Water".
from Soulful Strut (Brunswick) available on CD - Wack Wack (Kent)
sok186: and here I thought I was alone, excellent pick
The lyrics to this song, even though they were written years ago still hold up today. Nothing has changed, which is kind of sad. This song hits you hard with it's political message with very little subtlety, but it doesn't need it because the message is so strong and so frustrated. Bad Religion's best work.
From Bad Religion's album "No Control", the title track encompasses not only lead singer Greg Graffin's views on nature and science, in that we as humans have no control over nature, but also that those who seek to control other ultimately have no lasting control as their reigns cannot last.
This is one of my favorite Bad Religion songs, and it, along with other tracks on the album, show the progression of songwriting within the group - not only through more thoroughly composed songs, but with more complex vocal harmonies.
Opening with a brat beating bass and melody that is scarily reminiscent of some late 70s euro disco pathos, it’s only when Brian James’ raunchy guitar kicks in that you know you’re well away from the lights of that dance floor and in the grips of a very different master. A hedonistic web of Bators’ beloved conspiracy theorizing, the logical successor to the Wanderers’ paranoia-packed repertoire, ”Open Your Eyes” previewed a closet of horrors that embraced organized religion, the impending World Tour of Pope John Paul II, Bolshevik plots and Ronald Reagan’s apparent rush towards nuclear Armageddon. With session man Matt Black’s synthesizers giving the whole thing a classic rock feel that merged edgily with the band’s own punkish sensibilities, it was, as always, Bators’ viperous lyrics that brought the whole thing into the twilight zone of pre-Internet intrigue. The 80s politicking of Margaret Thatcher’s Britain and Reagan’s cold war America pretty much ensured that both sides were far happier not having to open their eyes. A gleeful Bators was there, though, to make sure they did.
from The Lords of the New Church, available on CD (IRS)
After nearly three and a half years of speculation, I finally bought this album in the fall of 2003. Wow. As soon as I popped it in, I knew that it was Monster Magnet, but I knew I had a new band to add to my favorite list. These guys rock, period, they're in the lower upper class of hard rock (with upper upper being reserved for such acts as Metallica, Iron Maiden, and Dream Theater), hell I don't even want to categorize them, as this would place a restriction on their potential (in much the same way the Jewish cannot write the word "God," and Muslims cannot draw Him, according to friends I have of those faiths). The song starts off like a fireside story, we've got a low bass beat, a great little intro compliments of Ed Mundell. Wyndorf's space, money, power, sex and religion influenced lyrics become prevalent as soon as the song begins, and we are launched into a maracca, tambourine, and 70's/80's hard line influenced metal trip. Ned Raggett's characterization of an 'acid folk' edge to the beginning of the song gives it good justice, and Space Lord slowly cranks up the volume, settling down once, and then cranking it up again, ready to conquer worlds with the hard rock edge that has kept Monster Magnet in the limelight, but away from the new age/pathetic sounds. Upon listening to this song, we think "classic rock," not because of it's refusal to metamorphose (or rather, transmogrify) into today's rock, but because of it's influence from the aforementioned 60's - 80's hard core, unfiltered, instrumentally diverse sound (including alternate percussive effects from tambourines and maraccas, as well as keyboard infiltration that would make The Doors jealous), which is uniquely self-complimenting, orchestrated, and coherent. Space Lord deals with becoming (unconsciously) corrupt with power, wealth, and ultimately desire (Now give me the strenth to split the world into, yeah/I've ate all the rest, and now I've gotta eat you), which may delineate the stereotypical American 'powertrip,' hence the album's appropriate name. If you are looking for unrelenting excellent rock, which isn't too harsh to listen to, but most certainly isn't along the lines of Phish or Weezer (in any respect at all), I recommend this song, album and any others one could get one's hands on. 5 out of 5 stars for its genre.
Ex-Chameleons leader Mark Burgess released this CD in '94, which was supposed to be demos, but his "demos" are superior to most acts' finished products. This particular song is very gloomy, in two parts, and the second half has ghostly backing vocals (very likely synthesized) which recall those in Terry Stafford's '64 hit "Suspicion". There is a cello snaking around throughout, not to mention a banjo (!), and the acoustic guitar backing sounds muted. The lyrics seem to be critical of religion ("Yes I'm a fool, A fool not a rat, I have no fear of the cat"), which makes it the kind of song one would wish to have played at one's funeral. Mark Burgess has more talent in his little finger than most phoney chart acts have in their entire persons!
And by the way, the Chameleons' "Strange Times" LP is awesome!