Fight – Little Crazy (Song of the Week)

Our song this week comes from Fight, the early 1990’s project of the metal god himself, Rob Halford. Rob had left Judas Priest in 1992 in order to “spread his wings” and do some solo stuff. The story is that Rob had only wanted to do a side project and the rest of Priest was cool with it, but someone in band or label management screwed it all up and Halford’s letter of intent to do another band turned into him resigning. Judas Priest has some messed up management gaffes but that’s all for another time.

Halford’s first post-priest project would be Fight, a band a little more “with the times.” This band was heavy with a groove edge. It was reminiscent of Pantera, who were quickly becoming heavy metal’s most talked about band around this time.

Halford didn’t come from Priest alone – along for the ride was drummer Scott Travis, who did double duty in Priest and Fight, though Priest was not doing much at the time. Rounding out the band were bassist Jay Jay and guitarists Brian Tilse and Russ Parrish, the latter who you might know today as Satchel from Steel Panther.

Little Crazy was the second of three singles from the band’s debut album War Of Words. The album sold rather softly but did generate good critical and fan buzz. Halford’s gamble on updating for the times did pay off, at least in reputation. The videos from this album got pretty good airplay on MTV and there still was a good noise around the group, even if true commercial success was elusive.

This song isn’t a ballad by any means but it’s a slower tune, a bit “in the pocket” for a metal band. It does kick hard though, there’s no doubting its ferocity even in its middle pace. The riff here is totally southern deep fried, like this song came straight off the bayou. Everything here is played fantastically and the recording was fantastic.

Rob Halford keeps it subdued here, at least in terms of his general wail. Of all the renowned heavy metal singers, Halford is the one that can really take his voice to some different places. Here he keeps things on the level but it fits the song perfectly.

The song’s theme is exactly that of the title – it’s all about going crazy, or in fact being crazy. It isn’t the kind of hyped up, hey I’m batshit and going a million miles an hour kind of crazy often portrayed in old entertainment and especially metal songs. This is the creepy, crawly kind of crazy that is more like what going crazy is truly like (so I’ve read).

The music video fits the song very well and is also a product of its time. It features mostly shots of Halford writhing around as if he is slipping into the abyss, and some brief clips of the band playing. It’s all cut apart and pieced together with multiple angles in one frame, it’s very ’90’s and the sort of thing young, dumb meatheads like me ate up on MTV at the time.

Little Crazy wasn’t a hit in the commercial sense of the word. It did place at number 21 on the Mainstream Rock Chart, which is a bit of a feat for a debuting band, even one with a legendary singer in front of it. But this song was a hit with us at the time, the end of Generation X growing up on the alt-metal videos sprouting up around then. Fight would do one more album before folding, but their brief time around produced some pretty cools songs, and Little Crazy might be the biggest gem in the bag.

Cannibal Corpse – Hammer Smashed Face (Song of the Week)

Before I get into it, yes, you very likely have heard this song before, even if death metal never touches your ears. I’ll get there in a bit.

Today’s song is from Cannibal Corpse, who stand today as titans of the death metal scene. In fact they will release their 16th album, Chaos Horrific, in a few days on this coming Friday. But today’s song is not about that, as only two current members of the band were present back in 1992.

Hammer Smashed Face hails from the band’s third album Tomb Of The Mutilated. The album is noteworthy for the cover alone, it was one of the sickest things ever to sit on a record store shelf. It is present in the thumbnail to the video in all its gore and depravity right below.

This was the opening track to the album and was also the first time CC released a song as a single. The single release included two cover songs, one from death metal inventors Possessed and another from Black Sabbath in the Ian Gillian period. It was again released later as an EP with a few older Corpse tracks thrown on as well.

This song is totally brutal death metal, there’s no doubt about it. This is not the kind of stuff most people want to listen to. Even among people who do like heavy metal, this is another degree past tolerance. It is fast, bludgeoning and rough. Nothing beyond a few guitar notes get above the low end of the spectrum and even when they do, it is dissonant and discomforting.

But, it’s also kinda catchy. That intro riff and drum sequence stands out right away and it makes its way back into the song several times. It definitely grabs the ear. And, if people are like me and enjoy the sinister sounds of death metal, those dissonant guitars and slamming drums are a welcome presence.

I don’t suppose there’s much need for lyrical analysis. This song is literally about beating someone’s head off with a hammer. There isn’t much else to go over – all Cannibal Corpse songs are like miniature horror movies.

This song and third album would mark the end of work for the band’s original line-up – Chris Barnes on vocals, Bob Rusay and Jack Owen on guitar, Alex Webster on bass and Paul Mazurkiewicz on drums. Rusay would leave the band and the death metal scene altogether after this album. Barnes would be around for one more seminal album before a divorce that shook the death metal world and redefined Cannibal Corpse for the years to come. Jack Owen was in the group quite awhile longer, eventually departing in 2004. Alex and Paul remain as active and founding members.

So, let’s get to where you have probably heard this song before. Remember the Jim Carrey blockbuster Ace Ventura – Pet Detective?

If so, then you likely recall the scene where Jim as Ace walks into a club for a metal show. Ace is looking for someone named Greg to help him track down the whereabouts of the Miami Dolphins’ mascot, a live dolphin named Snowflake. Ace asks a headbanger if Greg is in, and takes the headbanging as a positive response. The band in the scene is Cannibal Corpse and the song they’re playing on stage is Hammer Smashed Face. I’ll post the clip below but I won’t place bets on it remaining up given YouTube’s AI-driven copyright hunt.

This movie placement was a bit of a coup for Cannibal Corpse, as Ace Ventura did big business and Jim Carrey became a huge star out of it. And while I can’t track specific sources to express the degree to which this happened, but Carrey either already was or did become a fan of Cannibal Corpse and death metal in general. It is something he has discussed in his numerous late night talk show apperances over the years but it’s not like I can remember which ones.

Hammer Smashed Face became a signature tune for Cannibal Corpse, helped along by unexpected movie success but also propelled by the band’s growing propensity to write songs with catchy hooks. Corpse would take this to the next level on their following album The Bleeding, crafting music and vocals that human ears could understand and accessing new scores of fans. Even through major line-up changes, Cannibal Corpse have continued to climb ranks and have reigned for awhile now as the top act in death metal. It is a legacy forged in brutal riffs and gory lyrics, and that legacy continues on this coming Friday.

Don Henley – The Boys Of Summer (Song of the Week)

Summer seems to be slipping away, both on the calendar and weather-wise, so it’s a good time to look back on the big Don Henley hit from 1984.

The Boys Of Summer is probably Henley’s most recognizable solo song, though not his biggest hit – that was Dirty Laundry. Today’s song was the lead single from Henley’s second solo album Building The Perfect Beast, which is a weird title since the album cover is just Don Henley. Not entirely sure what he’s getting at there but I was 7 at the time so it’s probably not for me to figure.

The song has quite a history involving a few music luminaries, the tale I’m telling today can be found in this 2022 article on loudersound.com.

This song was brought to Henley by Mike Campbell, known for his day job as the guitarist for Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. Campbell had written up the music and offered the song to Tom. Petty turned it down because he didn’t feel it fit the mood of the album they were making, which was Southern Accents. That’s a fair assessment, though Petty would later regret not cutting the track after he heard Henley’s finished version.

Campbell was in luck though, as Southern Accents producer Jimmy Iovine knew Henley was recording a new record, so Iovine suggested Campbell pitch the song to Henley. Campbell and Henley hadn’t met before, but Henley was receptive to the track and cut it after writing lyrics and changing the song’s key. Fellow Heartbreakers Benmont Tench and Stan Lynch would contribute other songs to the Henley album as well.

The Boys Of Summer is a total ’80’s tune, far removed from the country-rock of Henley’s beloved Eagles. This song doesn’t even have real drums on it, Campbell programmed a machine to play those. There is guitar on this and also a generous helping of synthesizer. This is a nice, soft and atmospheric song that flows without issue and adds a moody air to the lyrical fare.

The theme of the song is very simple, it’s all about looking back at the past and longing for lost people and moments. The song and video make it all about a girl, and it’s often past lovers who bring out that longing the most. It’s fairly relatable stuff to anyone who’s at or around middle age, though the degree to which it’s relatable would vary from person to person. The third verse really brings the whole point home, it’s one that gets me nearly every time I hear the song even though I’ve heard it hundreds of times by now.

There’s also a bit to the title itself – the “boys of summer” was originally a phrase coined by Welsh poet Dylan Thomas. I have no clue what Thomas was on about in the poem and I don’t like poetry so I won’t dig for an answer. In 1972, author Roger Kahn used the phrase for the title of his book about the Brooklyn Dodgers, and since then “boys of summer” has usually been taken to mean a reference to baseball. It wasn’t the case for this song but the song and the sport have been intertwined at times.

The Boys Of Summer would go on to number 5 on the Billboard Hot 100 and chart significantly in many other countries. It is just off the number 3 high set by Henley with Dirty Laundry a few years prior. The video won huge accolades, taking home Video of the Year from the 1985 MTV VMA’s. As Henley quipped, he won the award for riding around in the back of a pickup.

The song would pop up again in conversation years later, as rock band The Ataris did a cover in 2003. This version was a hit, getting number 2 on the Billboard Modern Rock chart and 20 on the Hot 100. While it was a career moment for The Ataris, Henley was not really amused by their version, pretty much calling them out years later as a flash in the pan. Mike Campbell was far more complimentary of The Ataris and their cover effort.

Don Henley’s solo career would go on into the early 1990’s where he was derailed by lawsuits between he and his label Geffen Records. This would cause Henley to become very involved in issues concerning musicians and their rights, as well as an Eagles reunion. But he truly struck gold with this 1980’s hit, both in music and theme.

Jimmy Buffett – Margaritaville (Song Of The Week)

A quick post today, and one to eulogize the recently passed Jimmy Buffett. For those unaware, Buffett died last Friday, September 1st at the age of 76.

Buffett was the king of a subgenre that might constitute country and yacht rock to a degree. Some called it Gulf and Western, others termed it “tropical rock.” Buffett had a number of recognizable songs, like Cheeseburger In Paradise, Why Don’t We Get Drunk, and his hit duet with Alan Jackson, It’s Five O’Clock Somewhere.

But no Jimmy Buffett song is as recognizable as the strains of Margaritaville. The song is from his 1977 album Changes In Latitudes, Changes In Attitudes and the song has gone on to immorality in the decades since its release. At the time the song got to number 8 on the Billboard Hot 100, number 13 on the Hot Country chart, and it hit number 1 on the Easy Listening chart. This was Buffett’s highest charting song overall, though It’s Five O’Clock Somewhere was a big number 1 hit on the country chart.

Jimmy Buffett would cultivate an audience through touring, gaining a fanbase known as Parrotheads who followed Buffett from town to town similar to followings like what The Grateful Dead had. He gigged pretty regularly through the years, stopping only in spots when the cancer that would eventually claim him took too much of a toll.

Margaritaville is not just a hit song, and not just a song that took on a significant cultural status – it’s also become one of the most lucrative songs of all time. It’s not the song itself that made a mint, but Buffett would extend Margaritaville branding to a chain of resorts, booze, cruises and other stuff that would net over a billion dollars.

The song Margaritaville is fairly simple in origin – one day Buffett was on the beach in Key West and wound up having a bad day – he lost a flip flop, which led to him stepping on a beer can and cutting his foot. He also lost the salt for his margaritas. He worked the incident into a song, combined with some other stuff, and Margaritaville was born.

Jimmy Buffett and Margaritaville came to exemplify the beach bum, or “island escapism” lifestyle. It became the obligation of every suburban dad in the US to plan summer trips to a beach, no matter how far. While beaches are obviously quite appealing on their own, Buffett was responsible in no small part for a boom in resort and coastline tourism through the 1980’s. The industry has only grown since then, and Buffett himself cashed in nicely on it.

Though Jimmy Buffett has now passed on, Margaritaville remains an immortal tribute to a day at the beach. I myself was never a parrothead or anything, but I can appreciate the simple joy of this song as I recall that it’s been a few decades since I’ve seen a beach or coastline. Don’t lose your salt shakers, and have one for Jimmy.

Pulp – Common People (Song of the Week)

When Britpop gets brought up, it’s almost always a focus on the “Battle of Britpop” and the rivalry between Oasis and Blur. But when a “best songs of Britpop” list springs up, there’s often a whole other song at the top of it. If you are even halfway decent at guessing, you could probably figure that the song is Common People by the band Pulp.

Common People was the lead single from Pulp’s fifth album Different Class, which released toward the end of 1995 in the height of the Britpop phenomenon. The single was released 5 months in advance of the full-length.

While Pulp benefited from the wave of British alt-rock, they themselves were not newcomers to the scene – Pulp were formed in 1978 and were on the indie circuit until the 1990’s brought their form of music more into style. This was a case of a scene finding a band, rather than a band finding a scene. Nor was the success sudden – Pulp were a rising star already through the early part of the decade as alt-rock became the new dominant form of rock.

Common People is an upbeat, keyboard-driven tune, which has been the general territory of Pulp through the years. Its dance-ability differentiates it from the more rock-oriented “Britpop,” though Blur did have moments of electro-tourism in their music. Pulp’s simpler, “retro disco” themed take on songs worked extremely well here and caught the attention of music fans the world over.

The song’s theme is a big one – it addresses the issue of “slum tourism,” where people of means want to live in squalid conditions as some kind of thrill seeking thing. And while the song was dramatized a fair bit for effect, there is truth behind the opening lines. Common People was inspired by when singer Jarvis Cocker attended St. Martin’s College in 1988. He ran into a girl who was Greek and was studying art, and the girl indicated an interest in living “like common people.”

Cocker did add a bit to the song, chiefly that the girl was pursuing him, while in reality Cocker was pursuing the girl and she was not at all interested. There have also been attempts to nail down who the woman was and a few interesting possibilities came up, though nothing has definitely been said about the matter.

Common People does accomplish its mission in railing against the idea of class tourism. For a well-off person to “slum it” for a bit is really nothing – all that person has to do is pick up the phone and call, as in the case of the girl in the song, she can call her father and he can stop it all. For the common person, there is no one to call to get a lift out of the despair of being broke and having no prospects for a better future beyond a winning lottery ticket that never comes.

This song became a huge hit in the Britpop era of 1995, the single hit number 2 in the UK and sold over a million copies, it also propelled the album Different Class to also move a million each in the UK and on the continent. Common People has endured as a top shelf tune since its release, it is often found at or near the top of most “Best of Britpop” lists and NME magazine even voted it the best song of the 1990’s. Many bands from all across music have covered the song, one very notable rendition came from 2004 and the tandem of William Shatner and Ben Folds. The pair were joined by Joe Jackson for a pretty unique and crazy version of the song that got a lot of attention and did a lot to kick off Shatner’s quirky music career.

For Pulp, Common People would be their magnum opus, though the band held serve through the 1990’s as their sound was more diverse and proved able to navigate the sudden closure of the Britpop shop. Pulp have split and reconvened a few times through the 2000’s, including having just been on a reunion run this year. But no matter what they do now, their crown jewel of a song will remain immortal and speak to the lives of many all over who know all too well what’s it like to live like common people.

Hal Ketchum – Small Town Saturday Night (Song of the Week)

Today I’m talking about a country song revolving around a small town, though this one is 32 years old and wasn’t a political lightning rod, instead it’s just an enjoyable song from the ’90’s country era.

Hal Ketchum came up in the Texas scene and began his recording career in the late 1980’s after playing for several years on the live club circuit. His second album Past The Point Of Rescue would be his major label debut for Curb Records and is where today’s song hails from. The album would go gold for half a million copies sold and was the start of Ketchum’s solid presence on the airwaves of 1990’s country.

Small Town Saturday Night was one of three singles from the album that went to number 2 on the Hot Country charts. This was the lead single and served as Ketchum’s introduction to the national country stage, where he picked up steam right off the bat. While Ketchum did write a lot of his own material, this song was brought in from outside songwriters Pat Alger and Hank DeVito.

Like much of country music from the 1990’s, this song is pretty smooth. Nothing was rough around the edges in this era of high production values and mining for radio hits. There is just a bit of rough and tumble to this song but it’s still a prototypical offering from country of this period.

Lyrically the song’s concept is self-explanatory – some bored kids need something to do on Saturday night in their small town. They have just enough for gas money to go cruising, enough booze to catch a buzz, and absolutely nothing of substance worth doing. The third verse offers a pretty stark reality about small town life – the main “character” Bobby tells his girlfriend Lucy that the world has to be flat because their small town is everything – anyone who leaves never comes back, so the world cant’ be round. And yes it’s a metaphor, that flat earth bullshit wasn’t taken literally in the 1990’s.

And yeah, I can confirm that this is life in a small town, Saturday night or otherwise. The town I grew up in had all of 2,500 people in it. There really wasn’t a lot going on and this song is what a lot of younger folks did. Ketchum didn’t have to stretch to write this song, it’s all right there for anyone who had spent more than a night in a small town. I was a bit more disaffected than most in my childhood so I wasn’t really partying back then, but we would go drive around backroads looking for old abandoned buildings to check out, which there were no shortage of on the old, isolated farm lands. Sometimes you just got in a vehicle and went somewhere, even if that place was nowhere, because it’ wasn’t the nowhere you were living in.

Small Town Saturday Night entered country radio rotation on release in 1991 and it never left. It’s on just about any station that plays classic country today, and even more so now since ’90’s country is having a huge retro appreciation wave. Hal Ketchum continued to record and tour into the late 2010’s when it was announced he had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, he would pass away in late 2020.

For me I was never a huge country fan when this stuff was actually going on in the 1990’s. By this point I was well on my way to exploring death metal and all of the “alt-metal” stuff showing up. But I do remember these songs being on, and this one especially was one I kind of always like hearing. As time has gone on I wound up getting more into country and came to appreciate more of these early ’90’s cuts. Country music today has become far too much of a thing for the politically-charged masses to spew venom at each other about, but a song like this is always enjoyable no matter what kind of crap is going on in the news cycle.

Warlock – All We Are (Song of the Week)

I could have just as easily attributed today’s song to Doro Pesch as opposed to Warlock, though officially the song was originally released as part of Warlock’s final album Triumph And Agony in 1987. This was the lead single from that album, one recorded in the US after Doro came over from her native Germany after Warlock began gaining an American audience. While Doro would be caught in a years-long legal battle over the rights to Warlock naming and material, she would launch a solo career that saw her become a heavy metal legend and one of women’s biggest influences in metal music.

All We Are is nothing complicated at all – there are a few verses and the chant-along chorus. The music is to the point and everything comes together to make a simple yet very effective metal anthem. It isn’t quite as easy to craft a simple song as many people seem to think, but here Doro and company got the formula down pat.

This one is easy to get into, whether on a home stereo or in a live setting and this has been Doro’s signature song at her many, many concerts over the decades. Doro did her best to break out in America but grunge came along and sent this traditional style of metal to oblivion for awhile. But she found a willing audience throughout Europe in the ’90’s, and by the time traditional metal got on the rise again in the 2000’s, Doro was hailed as one of the genre’s prime performers. She has only further cemented her legacy in the years since, still going strong in 2023.

All We Are would get a new version in the mid 2000’s. Doro performed the song live as entrance music for Regina Halmich, a German boxer considered one of the world’s greatest and who is also one of Doro’s best friends. Doro was joined by Destruction mainman Schmier, After Forever guitarist Bas Maas and drummer Tim Hsung for this performance. The same group would convene to record a new studio version that was released on an EP in 2007.

All We Are is, unsurprisingly, Doro’s most-played live song. I wouldn’t figure she would do a show without it, the song is her calling card and likely the first thing a lot of people heard of hers. A fair bit of Warlock’s final album still resonates through the metal fanbase 35 years later and it’s something Doro commemorates to this day. Just a few weeks ago Doro played a fair portion of the album on the hallowed stage of the Wacken Open Air Festival grounds in a set jam-packed with guests from all across the heavy metal spectrum.

Doro has been one of the most influential women in heavy metal, and she’s done so by simply executing her songs and playing shows – she made her mark without falling into the trap of scantily-clad 1980’s marketing. When the 1980’s faded away, Doro rose to prominence with a traditional heavy metal sound. And All We Are remains as her calling card all these years later, as she still commands the stage and influences new generations.

Sammy Hagar – This Planet’s On Fire (Song of the Week)

The song pick this week is a track from Sammy Hagar’s fourth solo album Street Machine. This album hit in 1979 and was kind of a lull in Hagar’s career – he wouldn’t see true solo success until 1982 and Standing Hampton. But there were still plenty of worthy songs early on in Sammy’s first solo outing and today’s track is one of those.

This Planet’s On Fire (Burn In Hell) did get a singles release in the UK though it didn’t set the UK charts on fire. It would feature over 40 times in live setlists through the early 1980’s before Sammy joined Van Halen and ran off to mega-stardom. He does not appear to have played it since, though such setlist aggregation sites aren’t always accurate so I don’t know.

Today’s song is one of Sammy’s heavy metal-leaning tracks that he was very fond of doing. He had tried to keep Montrose in a metal direction in the early 1970’s, which led to his exit from that group. While Sammy often plied his trade in rock, he could be found exploring the emerging world of metal from time to time.

The standout part of this song is, of course, that riff. It is a roller coaster ride up and down the fretboard on this one. It will get a person to take notice, that’s for sure. There is also plenty of soloing in the wordless moments to keep the guitar lesson going. Hagar would revisit this style of running riff a few years down the line with the song I Don’t Need Love from Three Lock Box.

Lyrically the song is pretty easy to figure out – everything is messed up and everyone has punched their ticket to H-E-double hockey sticks. It doesn’t sound like a bad thing in this case – as with a lot of Sammy at his best, it’s a party all the way to the bottom. It’s not the same kind of Hell as in a preacher’s sermon or as depicted by about 666,666 black metal bands. Maybe it’s really more like Heck, I don’t know.

This song has kind of hung out in the lower rung of Sammy Hagar’s catalog. His time in Van Halen will always be the topic of discussion, and his solo stuff includes his big hit I Can’t Drive 55 and his more modern incarnation as a hard rock Jimmy Buffet. His brief stint with Montrose might garner more attention than a lot of his early solo career before ’82, even.

But Hagar’s early stuff has gained some notice. I know I was one of many to gravitate to this song the first time I heard it way back when. And I wasn’t the only one – in 2022, Dave Mustaine and Megadeth cut a cover version of it for certain versions of their album The Sick, They Dying … And The Dead! The cover featured vocals from Hagar as well.

This Planet’s On Fire may not have set the world on fire, but this is still top-notch stuff from the Red Rocker. It doesn’t get much better than this trip straight to Hell.

Neil Young – Ordinary People (Song of the Week)

Last week I finished off my Iron Maiden singles series with the 18-minute whopper Empire Of The Clouds. While throwing that together I was reminded of another 18-minute slugfest so that one gets the spot as the Song of the Week.

Neil Young originally composed this song in 1988 just after releasing This Note’s For You. The song theoretically was available for the album Freedom a year later, which was Young’s huge commercial comeback, but it was shelved because Young was concerned the audience might not take to the horn section.

Ordinary People got aired out some live over the years but did not see a studio version until 2007. The album Chrome Dreams II comprised a few older cuts as well as new material and the mammoth song finally got a release in 2007. The name of this album even calls back to old, unreleased Young material – the original Chrome Dreams was ready in 1976 but was shelved and its songs appeared in different forms elsewhere. The album sat for 47 years and is just now about to be released on August 11th of 2023. But that’s not today’s concern, there’s more than enough to talk about.

The song runs for 18:12. That’s a pretty vast undertaking and not something that hordes of music fans would be into, but Neil Young always marches to the beat of his own drummer so this isn’t something out of bounds for him. Hell, Chrome Dreams II has another 14 minute long song on it, No Hidden Path. It was even nominated for a Grammy in 2009.

Ordinary People comprises 9 verses over the course of its run. The song operates on the same formula the entire time – a verse that winds up with a bit of a chorus-like reprise at the end, then a bit of instrumental jam. That’s really all the song does for 18 minutes is repeat this process. There are no interludes, no movements in arrangement or anything like that. It’s just a straight jam all the way through.

The question becomes – does it work? It’s extremely long, it runs the same ground all the way through without the kinds of movements that most “long song” purveyors employ, and hell, it doesn’t even have a chorus. But, as it stands, yeah, the song is pretty good. It hooks you in pretty quickly with its rhythm that becomes almost hypnotic as the song goes along. Each spot between the verses holds a bit of horn and guitar jamming and it’s worth it to check out what’s going on through those passages.

And the verses serve to pay tribute to the title of the song – the ordinary people. Each verse is its own little story about someone screwing over the common people or maybe actually helping them out. Young offers up some choice phrases that he revisits later in the song, “patch of ground” people is one that really sticks out and also sums up the experience. It does honor the hardship and perseverance of not being one of the “silver spoon” people.

The song would be quite a feat to pull off live, especially given how much would have to be cut to fit it in. But Neil has managed 8 performances of it, all from 1988 and ’89, according to setlist.fm. The sites accuracy might be off too, especially going back to gigs that old, so it’s possible this got aired out a few more times. There is at least one recorded live performance found in Young’s insanely extensive archives series, that version runs more brief at 12 minutes and the band shifted up the verses some for that version.

The concept is something that honestly shouldn’t work. If someone pitched to me the idea of just playing roughly the same stuff over and over for 18 minutes without any breaks in the action or major shifts in the song to keep things fresh I would dismiss the idea out of hand. But here we are with just that and it’s something I enjoy quite a bit. Neil Young does exactly whatever the hell he wants, of course, and if he wants to play for 18 minutes then let him have at it.

Candlemass – Solitude (Song of the Week)

This week’s songs presents an interesting perspective with it – Candlemass have been playing for decades now and have had several membership changes. As a result, there is a massive supply of live and alternate recordings of this song available to go through. It’s quite a history which, of course, I’ll get right into.

Solitude is the opening track to Candlemass’ debut album Epicus Doomicus Metallicus. The album was released in 1986 and did not sell well out of the gate, leading the band to be dropped from the small-time record label they were signed to. Singer Johan Längqvist would quit the group without ever performing a single concert, a distinction that was a curiosity in metal trivia and would last over 20 years.

Candlemass would soon see their fortunes buoy – they were joined at vocals by the voice and character of Messiah Marcolin and they’d go on a run of three albums that would help define the landscape of doom metal at a time when the genre was little more than whatever Black Sabbath had done. As the profile of Candlemass rose, so did the sales of the debut album. With this, many new fans took notice of Solitude and the song grew to become one of the band’s signature tunes.

This song is a recording by a doom metal band and as such it is a “sad” song. The music is suitably slow and morose – while a lot of heavy metal was caught up in pushing the envelope of thrash, Candlemass and a few others were exploring the territory that would become doom.

Lyrically, Solitude goes well beyond just being a sad song – this is a desperate track about someone at their total wit’s end who is contemplating suicide. This is the final words of a tortured soul who simply wishes to pass in peace – there is no hope or anything greater to reach for here. Candlemass didn’t have a high enough profile for the song to be picketed by the “moral majority” in the same way a lot of metal music got twisted as encouragements of suicide, which is a bit ironic since this song is very much a bleak and open portrayal of such circumstances while the media-fueled witch hunts were targeting songs not really about suicide.

As Candlemass wound on with their career, Solitude has gone on to see several versions released. By a very quick count I can identify at least 10 versions across different official live releases, as well as 2 more live and one demo session from a rarities box set. Additionally, the song was re-recorded in studio in 2007 when new singer Robert Lowe joined the band and was released on his first album with the group, King Of The Grey Islands. And I’ll hold that version up as an awesome rendition and, at the risk of blasphemy, perhaps the definitive version of the song.

Earlier I mentioned how original singer Johan Längqvist did not sing Solitude with the band, or any song as he didn’t perform live at all with them before quitting. This was corrected in 2007 when the band celebrated a slightly late 20th anniversary by having Johan join them for a handful of songs live. He would link up with Candlemass on a few other occasions through the 2010’s before fully re-joining as singer in 2018. It was a true case of coming full circle.

Solitude is often hailed as Candlemass’ magnum opus, and even in debate it’s a top 2 or 3 pick. This was from a time when a scene could take years to form, when having a soft selling debut didn’t necessarily mean the death of the band, and when word of mouth and snail mail were the ways music spread across the world. Now nearly 30 years on from its release, Solitude is still just as haunting and soul-wrenching as it was back in 1986.