1007. ‘Dakota’, by Stereophonics

We’re slap bang in the middle of the ‘00s. I was nineteen, in my second year at university, and out at the dancing three or four times a week…

Dakota, by Stereophonics (their 1st and only #1)

1 week, from 6th – 13th March 2005

Before you fear that I’ll turn this post into a nostalgia-fest, and start banging on about blue WKDs and skinny jeans, I’m getting to a salient point. A lot of the music I heard on those nights out wasn’t just the pop and dance we’ve been hearing in recent posts. It was, as the Killers sang, indie rock and roll for me.

So ‘Dakota’ is a mini landmark number one, as it is the first chart-topper from the mid-00s indie revival. Think Franz Ferdinand, think Arctic Monkeys, think Kaiser Chiefs, Libertines, the Strokes, White Stripes and more. Like Britpop a decade earlier, it didn’t get a whole lot of representation at the very top of the charts, but there will at least be a few more rocking #1s in the coming months, and that is something to celebrate after the very pop-heavy opening years of the 21st century.

Of course, Stereophonics predated all these new-kid-on-the-block indie acts. You could class them as Britpop, but they weren’t that either. They emerged during that post-Britpop comedown that also gave us Travis, and Coldplay (a period Alan McGee famously dubbed ‘bedwetter indie’). They were probably overdue a number one single, as Britain’s pre-eminent rock group of the very early ‘00s.

But for this comeback single they were tapping into the sounds of the time, taking a step away from their usual pub rock anthems. ‘Dakota’ sounds like the Killers, with its synth stabs, crossed with U2 in the humungous chorus, and some Manics in the spiky guitars. It’s a big tune, clearly written for tens of thousands to sing along to in stadiums, and while I liked it at the time I’m finding it a bit plodding now.

The chord progression in the chorus is still good, and the thrashing I don’t know where we are going… break is still impressively heavy. But I’ve always had mixed feelings about Stereophonics. For every song of theirs I like – the bitchy ‘Mr Writer’, for example – there’s a song I find bloated and dull – i.e. ‘Just Looking’. And Kelly Jones’ sandpaper drawl is a voice I can only take for three songs at a time.

I also think ‘Dakota’ is a bit of an inferior retread of Stereophonics’ previous single, ‘Moviestar’ – a slinkier, more sinister slice of electro-rock. But, this is the record that brought them a belated #1 after nine earlier Top 10 hits. And it was their chart peak, after a very slow ascent, and they have never returned to the Top 10 since.

But hey, at least they kicked off the ‘mid-00s indie rock revival’. Not quite as catchy a genre title as ‘punk’ or ‘glam’, but still. It was probably rock music’s very last hurrah as a chart force. And I may be biased, as it was the soundtrack to my yoof, but it also gave us some great tunes. Not ‘Dakota’, not quite, but there’s better to come soon.

Advertisements

1004. ‘Sometimes You Can’t Make It on Your Own’, by U2

U2 end a seventeen-year chart-topping career with an understated, and perhaps forgotten, little gem.

Sometimes You Can’t Make It on Your Own, by U2 (their 7th and final #1)

1 week, from 13th – 20th February 2005

Understatement is all relevant, of course, and for many acts this would count as a bombastic power-ballad. By U2’s standards though, it is gentle and stripped-back. It had been written around five years earlier, about Bono’s father, who died from cancer in 2001. (The line: It’s you when I look in the mirror, And it’s you when I don’t pick up the phone…taps so sharply into many father-son relationships.) According to the band, the song went through a lot of workshopping, away from a traditional Irish sound to something more contemporary. And I’m glad they spent the time to bring it to fruition.

It still has a folksy feel, especially in the intro, which reminds me of Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Man of the World’. Bono’s vocals are impressive – possibly his best performance on any of their chart-toppers – especially in the middle-eight, in which the song switches to something more predictably soaring. The Edge’s guitar chimes in trademark fashion, and we get briefly swamped in over-production, before ending on a sparser note.

I suppose it would be a lot to expect the biggest band in the world™ not to give in to that glossy sheen, when they have unfettered access to the best equipment and producers, but I would be interested to hear an even more restrained version of this ballad. Not that this gets spoiled by the production, not at all, but it’s a tempting thought. We have the low sales climate of early 2005 to thank for U2 enjoying two #1s from the same album for the first time, and their first chart-topper that isn’t a lead single. Not for the first time in the last couple of years a grim situation for the record industry has led to some interesting chart hits. This is also one of the longest-titled number one singles, from one of the shortest-titled chart-topping acts.

Actually, despite often being down on U2, and Bono in particular, I have enjoyed almost all of their six number ones, with one notable exception. Not counting their feature on ‘Take Me to the Clouds Above’, I would rank them thusly, in ascending order. ‘Beautiful Day’ >>>>>>>>>>>> ‘The Fly’ > ‘Discotheque’ > ‘Sometimes You Can’t Make It on Your Own’ > ‘Desire’ > ‘Vertigo’. Because, at the end of the day, rock bands are at their best when they rock.

Advertisements

995. ‘Vertigo’, by U2

Lo! What is that I hear on the horizon? Rock…? Music…?

Vertigo, by U2 (their 6th of seven #1s)

1 week, from 14th – 21st November 2004

I am a confirmed U2 sceptic. I think they can be too clever for their own good, too preachy, too glossy… But I’ve also enjoyed most of their earlier chart-toppers, from the bluesy ‘Desire’, to the arty ‘The Fly’, to the danceable ‘Discotheque’. I am also ready to forgive U2 anything, now that they’ve restored rock and roll to the top of the charts.

And ‘Vertigo’ does rock. The riff is brutally simple, and the chorus’s hook-line (Hello, Hello, I’m at a place called vertigo…) is brutally catchy. I especially like the verses, where the Edge’s guitar chirps and cheeps like a wildcat ready to pounce, and a filthy bassline is brought to the fore.

I wouldn’t go so far as describing it as ‘punk’, as some outlets did at the time. Yes it’s simple, and blisteringly fast. But it’s U2, in 2004. ‘Vertigo’ lent its name to one of the biggest tours of all time. It was used to advertise the iPod. And it’s still very glossy. The chorus, as effective as it is, is polished to an edge-less (pardon the pun) gleam. While the middle-eight, which is very U2 with Bono intoning All of this can be yours… in a chiming break, breaks any punk-y aspirations once and for all.

I’d also suggest that ‘Vertigo’ is a slight rip off of ‘Elevation’, from their previous album, which had a similarly dumb, sledgehammer riff. 21st Century U2 always had one rocking single per album, and at least one ballad (see their soon to follow final #1). Which could also be seen as a slightly cynical, commercial approach to album-making when compared to their ‘90s concept albums. Then again, like I said, I am a big old U2 sceptic.

But, really. This is a great song. And it ensures that U2 can claim a chart-topping career spanning over sixteen years, an impressive feat for any act. And, alongside their feature on LMC’s ‘Take Me to the Clouds Above’, it means that 2004 was their most successful chart-topping year. The album ‘Vertigo’ came from, ‘How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb’, was also one of their most commercially successful. It was also a bit of a swansong, as by the time of their following LP, in 2009, pop music seemed to have finally moved on from them.

955. ‘Bring Me to Life’, by Evanescense

It’s becoming a bit of a theme with 2003’s number ones. They come along, and you go ‘Huh?’

Bring Me to Life, by Evanescence (their 1st and only #1)

4 weeks, 8th June – 6th July 2003

Evanescence making number one is the biggest ‘huh’ of all. Mainly because rock music has been pretty absent from the top of the charts in the 21st century. Huge fanbase acts like U2, Oasis and the Manics aside, the truly only contemporary rock chart-topper in four years has been Limp Bizkit.

So how, and why, did this record spend a month on top of the charts? It wasn’t a breakthrough moment for a band who’d put in the hard miles; this was their debut single. Was it the last hurrah of nu-metal, with a very Linkin Park-ish mix of overwrought vocals and rapping? Was it because it is really a pop song in disguise, with a very catchy call and response chorus? Was it the novelty value of a woman singing lead vocals on a rock track? Was it a beneficiary of the low sales climate?

I’m going to be a proper historian and do the hedge my bets, all of the above move. Plus it had featured on the soundtrack to the movie ‘Daredevil’, which had been released that February, giving it several months of free promo. Basically, it was a ‘lightning in a bottle’ moment, the stars aligning and returning rock music to the top of the charts.

Sadly, despite this being a moment, I’ve never really liked ‘Bring Me to Life’. It’s just too much. Too overwrought, too serious, too emo. The one bit that speaks to me is the even-more-bombastic-than-the-rest middle eight. Frozen inside… And I say this as a big fan of My Chemical Romance, the ultimate emo band. But MCR always managed to give the feeling of deliberately going OTT with a knowing wink. Evanescence don’t. I had it in my mind that they had a Christian rock background… They don’t (though singer Amy Lee and guitarist Ben Moody met at a Christian youth camp), but they have that vibe. Meanwhile the shouty rap parts were delivered by Paul McCoy, who wasn’t even a full-time member of the band (sometimes he’s given a ‘ft’ credit).

If you’ve been listening carefully, there have been hints that rock music has been planning a return to the mainstream. Pink’s ‘Just Like a Pill’ used the same emo influences in a much poppier way. 2003’s version of a boyband, Busted, freely wield guitars. Girls Aloud had surf guitars on their reality TV winners single… Okay, it might be a tenuous link from ‘Sound of the Underground’ to this, but when you view things from a distance it does start to make sense. Pop music in 1999 or 2000 didn’t even feature fake guitars.

Evanescence enjoyed two further Top 10s from their debut album, before Moody left under a cloud. This song’s success did not herald the start of a huge chart career, or indeed a prolonged return for rock music to the top of the charts. They are still active though, with a couple of hiatuses along the way, and with Lee as the only remaining original member.

923. ‘The Hindu Times’, by Oasis

My intro to this next number one amounts to four simple words: Thank God for Oasis.

The Hindu Times, by Oasis (their 6th of eight #1s)

1 week, from 21st – 28th April 2002

Not just for cleansing the palate after the Pop Idol syrup-fests that had hogged the charts for several weeks previous, but for returning guitars to the top spot after what has probably been their longest hiatus. Not counting George Harrison’s posthumous comeback, I think this is the first rock #1 since, gulp, Limp Bizkit in January 2001.

Yes, this isn’t one of their classics. But I also think ‘The Hindu Times’, and anything Oasis released post-1998, gets unfairly maligned. They were great at side one, track one songs like this (and ‘Hello’, and ‘Turn up the Sun’, and ‘Fuckin’ the Bushes’), songs the sole purpose of which is to reassure the listener that, yes, they are listening to Oasis.

And I love it when Oasis are being Oasis. If you aren’t a fan then you might struggle with a song so droning, so snarly, so unrepentantly simple, but that’s your loss. If you can’t appreciate the way Liam drags out the you’re my sunshine you’re my rain… line in the chorus, presumably a knowing nod to ‘Live Forever’, then Oasis simply aren’t for you.

Experimentation feels like a dirty word in an Oasis context, one that soft southerners might use. But there is a bit of that going on. The ‘sitar’ riff, the droning, the gigantic wall of sound feel. It’s as big and beefy as they’d sounded since ‘Definitely Maybe’, and it’s not completely crazy to suggest that a higher tempo ‘Hindu Times’ wouldn’t sound out of place on their debut album. Despite the sitar sound, and the title, Noel had not been spending time with the Maharishi like his ‘60s idols; he saw the title as a slogan on a t-shirt.

With this single, and the subsequent ‘Heathen Chemistry’ album, Oasis debuted two new members in Gem Archer and Andy Bell (not the Erasure Andy Bell, though that would have been a direction I’d love to have heard Oasis go in…) Archer and Bell remained in the band until their split in 2009, and have returned for the reunion tour. The album is okay – sixteen-year-old me thought it was amazing – but second single ‘Stop Crying Your Heart Out’ is probably the one 21st century Oasis single that people are happy to compare with their nineties output. For me, though, I’d go with the lovely ‘Songbird’, the album’s fourth single and the first to be written by Liam. I was very disappointed to see that the only post-1998 song they were playing on their recent tour was ‘Little by Little’, which I’ve always thought a dull plodder.

Despite rock music being back, baby, it won’t be hanging around for long. No Oasis #1 ever spent more than a week on top, and the next identifiably ‘rock’ chart-topper is more than a year away… Luckily though, we’re about to embark on a run of pretty decent, non-rocking number ones, starting with a ‘00s girl group classic.

889. ‘Rollin”, by Limp Bizkit

Alright, partners. Do we know what time it is…?

Rollin’, by Limp Bizkit (their 1st and only #1)

2 weeks, from 21st January – 4th February 2001

Time for the UK’s first and only nu-metal number one, that’s what time it is. And on one level, any sort of metal chart-topper is to be celebrated. There haven’t been many… Iron Maiden, for sure. Stiltskin? The head-banging bit from ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’? The Kinks inventing the genre with ‘You Really Got Me’?? So, yeah, any number one this heavy is worth a moment of appreciation.

And yet, most fans of heavy metal would want nothing to do with this song. Many metal heads want nothing whatsoever to do with nu-metal as a genre, and even if they did, grudgingly, then they might accept Linkin Park, or Slipknot. Korn, maybe. But not Limp Bizkit. Not Fred Durst, with his backwards Yankees gap and his douchey goatee.

Not these processed guitars, which you could easily believe were completely computer generated. And not the rapped lyrics, which reach spectacularly moronic levels. In the space of three chart-toppers we’ve gone from ‘Stan’s Shakespearian tragedy, to: So where the fuck you at, punk? Shut the fuck up! And back the fuck up, while we fuck this track up… (And if you think that’s bad, then don’t google the etymology of the album this single appeared on: ‘Chocolate Starfish and the Hot-Dog Flavoured Water’. Or, for that matter, where the band’s name itself allegedly comes from…)

So, yes, on one level this is a God-awful number one. An offensive new nadir for the new millennium. And yet… and I’m sure you know what I’m about to say… I love this song. I love how dumb it is. I love how processed and fake it is – the rock music equivalent of a Big Mac – and I love the fact that it somehow made number one. Not only that, but ‘Rollin’ was on top of the charts for my fifteenth birthday, which I’m sure you’ll agree is the prime age for appreciating garbage like this.

But also, it feels musically relevant that at least one nu-metal song appears on this countdown. It was one of the touchstones of the millennial teenage experience. Between 1999 and 2002, my high school playground was a sea of black Limp Bizkit, Linkin Park, Slipknot and Korn hoodies. Like it or not, grandad, this was the sound of a generation.

The rock version of ‘Rollin’ is technically the ‘Air Raid Vehicle’ remix, the original ‘Urban Assault Vehicle’ mix being a purely hip-hop version featuring rappers DMX, Redman and Method Man. And we have to mention the video, which is a time capsule of early 2000’s nonsense, featuring Ben Stiller and some faux boy-band dance moves. Plus, it also has one of the very last pop culture appearances of the World Trade Centre in New York, on top of which Fred and his gang filmed just a few months before 9/11. (I tried out a couple of edgy closing sentences, but I think they all went too far. Please insert your own tasteless jokes here.)

(Or if you’d prefer it swears intact…)

877. ‘Beautiful Day’, by U2

A rock band! With guitars! On top of the singles charts in the Year 2000!

Beautiful Day, by U2 (their 4th of seven #1s)

1 week, from 15th – 22nd October 2000

The extended nature of our journey through this year has distorted things slightly, as we’ve had both Oasis and the Manics on top of the charts in recent months, not to mention the Corrs, but still. Rock music has become a highly endangered beast around here.

For someone who wouldn’t count himself as much of a U2 fan, their first three #1s all had merit. The raw, bluesy hum of ‘Desire’, the industrial prog of ‘The Fly’, and ‘Discotheque’s, well, disco beats were all enjoyable curios, oddities almost, which is a strange position for the biggest band in the world to be in. But here, at last, is U2: Biggest Band in the World ™.

And my heart sinks, because songs like this are why I don’t count myself as a big U2 fan. At least, not of 21st century U2. For this soaring, uncomplicated (undeniably catchy) rock music is not just setting U2’s manifesto for the new millennium, but that of rock music in general. From here we can draw a line to Coldplay, to Snow Patrol, to Imagine fucking Dragons… To U2 themselves foisting an entire album on unsuspecting iPod buyers. To stadium gigs at 300 quid a pop (or more, thanks to dynamic pricing). To streaming algorithms. To the death of indie clubs and small venues, and nightlife in general…

Okay, okay. I don’t lay all of this at the feet of U2’s ‘Beautiful Day’, but I’d say it represents a shift. They’re not the first band to soften the edges – in fact, the production here isn’t a million miles away from All Saints with William Orbit – but this does feel like a huge grasp for ubiquity. It’s a beautiful day…! Don’t let it get away… Of course, radio ate it up, and of course it featured as background to sports montages, adverts, and political campaigns, for years. (In fact, a big part of the reason I dislike this song is that it reminds me of when ITV had the rights to the Premier League highlights. This, versus the Match of the Day theme? No contest.)

The middle eight introduces a bit of edge, as Bono casts an omnipotent eye around the world and sees the oil fields at first light and the tuna fleets cleaning the sea out… But this feels more like an in-joke, to see if anyone will actually notice, than a statement. The rest of the song, unless my sarcasm detector is on the fritz, is pure motivational schmaltz. Pure corporate rock, the sort that the world’s worst CEO listens to in his Mercedes, on his way to making five hundred people redundant.

For anyone who thinks that I’m being harsh, or that I’m letting an anti-U2 bias cloud my judgement of one of their biggest hits, I will state that I really rate the two singles that followed ‘Beautiful Day’: ‘Stuck in a Moment You Can’t Get Out Of’ and ‘Elevation’. But neither of them made #1, and so we are left discussing this record. I’ll leave the final words to a quote I heard once (I wish I could remember where from): If it is a beautiful day, then I don’t need Bono telling me about it…

848. ‘Go Let It Out’, by Oasis

New millennium; new Oasis…

Go Let It Out, by Oasis (their 5th of eight #1s)

1 week, from 13th – 20th February 2000

I mean ‘new’ in the sense that they had lost Bonehead, their rhythm guitarist, and bassist Paul ‘Guigsy’ McGuigan’, as well as forming their own record label, Big Brother. I don’t mean it in the sense that the Gallaghers had made many huge changes in sound for the year 2000. It’s largely business as usual.

There is a drum loop, but that’s as big a nod to the sounds of the new millennium as we get. The rest is pure Oasis: big, dumb chords; big, dumb lyrics; and some tricks nicked from the Beatles circa 1967. From this album, ‘Standing on the Shoulder of Giants’, onwards, every one of their lead singles will follow the same formula. To be as loud and as instantly recognisable as possible, announcing to everyone within earshot that the boys are back in town.

So ‘Go Let It Out’ is big, and loud, and Liam is on sneery form. It ticks all the boxes, demanding to be belted out by lads in pubs, with lyrics like We’re the builders of our destiny… But it never manages to rise above the faux-psychedelic sludge. There are some nice touches: the squealing guitars and whistle that introduce the final chorus, the wind-up riff in the fade-out, and the bit where Noel announces Feel the bass… (I have a soft spot for bands introducing their instruments and guitar solos). But overall, I’d say that this is my least favourite of Oasis’s eight chart-toppers.

Meanwhile, ‘Standing on the Shoulder of Giants’ is surely everyone’s least favourite Oasis album. (I have defended ‘Be Here Now’ in my earlier Oasis posts, and am prepared to do so again!) It has a couple of good tracks – ‘Gas Panic’ is a paranoid gem, while ‘Fuckin’ in the Bushes’ is perhaps their second best album opener after ‘Rock ‘n’ Roll Star’ – and a pretty decent single in ‘Sunday Morning Call’, which made #4 later in 2000. But it also has ‘Little James’, so…

Probably the most important thing about ‘Go Let It Out’ was it confirmed that the Oasis of 1994-1996, the biggest band in the land, were not coming back. This is the start of Oasis living on past glories. Noel Gallagher has gone on record as regretting how many good songs he used up as B-sides back in the mid-nineties, such as the three on ‘Some Might Say’ which I featured a couple of weeks back. The thing is, though… the B-side to this record, ‘Let’s All Make Believe’, is genuinely one of the best things Oasis ever recorded. Had it featured on ‘Standing…’ it would have been the best track by a mile. Let’s face it, Noel’s just loves being a contrarian.