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| Track List: 1. Donald in the Bushes With a Bag of Glue 2. A Day in Space 3. Dumper Truck Racing 4. Public Park 5. Essential Wear for Future Trips to Space 6. I Hate Scotland 7. Olympic Cyclist (acoustic version) 8. One Sailor Was Waving 9. I've Got Pictures of You in Your Underwear 10. Leave the Earth Behind You and Take a Walk Into the Sunshine 11. Swim for Health 12. They'll Hang Flags From Cranes Upon My Wedding Day 13. Postcards From the Beach 14. Sex Is Boring (acoustic version) Running time: 65 minutes Released: 2001 |
First up, this is nothing like the title suggests. If you played these in most clubs you'd be out on your ear as everyone left.
I got turned onto Ballboy by a friend who now is not, their style of self-effacing Scottish indie-pop being right up my street. Looking down the track listing, there are some top songs here, but most of my favourite Ballboy tracks are on other discs.
It starts with a jaunty little riff, a snappy drum beat and a lazy guitar hook, then dives off into a story - one of the things I like about Ballboy is the stories that manifest in their songs - about a recovering glue-sniffer. Cheery start, no really, it is. The music is upbeat and Gordon McIntyre's voice is full of positivity here, despite the lyrics. It beats the crap out of the continental covers band I saw last night, when I discovered what Twitter is really for. Acerbic one-liners when you don't have anyone around you to share the joke with.
The tone changes as we head into space for the first of two visits. Lush background harmonics and a guitar hook sit underneath a spoken monologue from the point of view of a dreamer with a love of space. Here McIntyre's voice is soothing, laid back and enjoyable as he meanders through the stream of consciousness thoughts of our narrator - whether him or a construct for the purpose of the song. He has a nice style of repeating certain lines for emphasis, which focuses you in on certain ideas in the song. All the while the harmonics and guitar circle, producing a lush carpet of sound beneath. Everything strips right back then, as we head into an acoustic number, a tired, dreamlike one at that.
Went out swimming earlier, first time in a long time. Tired now, so I find my eyes wanting to shut as the simple keys and guitar combination lulls me into relaxation. The guitar in particular is soothing, simple patterns of repeating notes at a slow enough pace to make every pass out but insistent enough to not leave holes in the sound. When that bottoms out for the final part of the track it feels slower, duller. Thankfully Ballboy tend to drift around in terms of tempos and fullness of sound, and they follow that sparser number with a lush, expansive one. Strings, guitars, drums creating a backdrop for the vocal - somewhat swallowed by the enveloping soundscape, until they leave him clear to sing over an acoustic for the chorus. One of the things I like about Ballboy is the way they use these lush sounds to support a singular and often quite lonely song, one that could just as well be told with one guitar. And then they switch between modes simply and effectively.
There is also the natural urge to self-deprecate. It is a British thing, not restricted to Scotland, but these guys do it very well. I must have mentioned here before how this sort of doing oneself down resonates with me.
After some very spangly sounds on our second space-themed track we hit the number that was my first introduction to Ballboy. I Hate Scotland (from a Scot, remember) is a grungy repeating low guitar riff, a dirty kind of sound, supporting another monologue, about how modern Scotland doesn't always meet expectations or standards. That said, it begins with a hark back to childhood and school PE lessons. The darkness in the thrum contrasts with the clarity of the spoken vocal. It frames the mood of the lyric, without overpowering it, crafting a powerful overall effect. There are lighter injections into that underlying noise, the equivalent of choruses I guess. I prefer the darker moments though if I am honest. After laying out his mind on Scotland, the narration returns to the PE analogy. It's a little non-sensical, giving everything up for the equipment and ability to execute a singular exercise... I guess I see it as calling back to a perfect moment, a point of pure exhilaration.
There is life in the action of their guitars. I don't play, but I imagine that most of these songs are pretty simple, musically. Rather than going for great technical challenge they focus things down and execute well. Keep it simple stupid, and do it perfectly. Of course as soon as I type that it goes off at the speed of lightning. Whilst fast is not necessarily complex, I guess, it torpedoes the confidence I had in my statement all the same. The opening sentence of this paragraph remains valid though: the band give it some and when they want to the really drive pace through their strumming. It reminds me a bit of The Wedding Present (which I am pretty sure was a reference point at the time I was introduced).
Oh, spangly. I don't really recognise the opening to Leave the Earth Behind You and Take a Walk into the Sunshine. The general form of the track is very recognisably Ballboy, but for whatever reason I think I have not heard this so much. McIntyre's voice here is more ethereal and removed, perhaps fitting for a song which seems to have some existential angst to it ("are you happy with your life" indeed?), but the guitars fall into a familiar pattern. My complaint about this track is that it drones on a little bit - 8 minutes without any real change-up is too long however comfortingly familiar the sounds are. I am tired of it by 6 minutes for reference.
I get the impression that the end of this album will arrive quite suddenly, as the track lengths drop off a bit from this point. That said, I find Swim for Health to drag me down, the horn that has appeared for this track not really fitting - not carrying the burden of the tune as well as the guitars, which have been relegated to support acts. We lurch from that to a stripped back downbeat song. They'll Hang Flags From Cranes Upon My Wedding Day sounds like a positive title but the song has a weary air to it that means it comes across as more circumspect.
The closing is rather low key, too. There's a sense of resignation to Postcards from the Beach, clearly a break-up song, and Sex is Boring is... I dunno. I know the song, I like the song musically but it's a weird one, as it's opening line suggests the listener take him back for BDSM, that he then claims will be dull and unrelated to his purpose for visiting. It progresses into an angry diatribe or rant and, well... I ran out of words, and ran out of time as the song concluded, and with it the album. There are a few sketchy points on this one if I am honest - or maybe its my post-exercise brain failing me.
It starts with a jaunty little riff, a snappy drum beat and a lazy guitar hook, then dives off into a story - one of the things I like about Ballboy is the stories that manifest in their songs - about a recovering glue-sniffer. Cheery start, no really, it is. The music is upbeat and Gordon McIntyre's voice is full of positivity here, despite the lyrics. It beats the crap out of the continental covers band I saw last night, when I discovered what Twitter is really for. Acerbic one-liners when you don't have anyone around you to share the joke with.
The tone changes as we head into space for the first of two visits. Lush background harmonics and a guitar hook sit underneath a spoken monologue from the point of view of a dreamer with a love of space. Here McIntyre's voice is soothing, laid back and enjoyable as he meanders through the stream of consciousness thoughts of our narrator - whether him or a construct for the purpose of the song. He has a nice style of repeating certain lines for emphasis, which focuses you in on certain ideas in the song. All the while the harmonics and guitar circle, producing a lush carpet of sound beneath. Everything strips right back then, as we head into an acoustic number, a tired, dreamlike one at that.
Went out swimming earlier, first time in a long time. Tired now, so I find my eyes wanting to shut as the simple keys and guitar combination lulls me into relaxation. The guitar in particular is soothing, simple patterns of repeating notes at a slow enough pace to make every pass out but insistent enough to not leave holes in the sound. When that bottoms out for the final part of the track it feels slower, duller. Thankfully Ballboy tend to drift around in terms of tempos and fullness of sound, and they follow that sparser number with a lush, expansive one. Strings, guitars, drums creating a backdrop for the vocal - somewhat swallowed by the enveloping soundscape, until they leave him clear to sing over an acoustic for the chorus. One of the things I like about Ballboy is the way they use these lush sounds to support a singular and often quite lonely song, one that could just as well be told with one guitar. And then they switch between modes simply and effectively.
There is also the natural urge to self-deprecate. It is a British thing, not restricted to Scotland, but these guys do it very well. I must have mentioned here before how this sort of doing oneself down resonates with me.
After some very spangly sounds on our second space-themed track we hit the number that was my first introduction to Ballboy. I Hate Scotland (from a Scot, remember) is a grungy repeating low guitar riff, a dirty kind of sound, supporting another monologue, about how modern Scotland doesn't always meet expectations or standards. That said, it begins with a hark back to childhood and school PE lessons. The darkness in the thrum contrasts with the clarity of the spoken vocal. It frames the mood of the lyric, without overpowering it, crafting a powerful overall effect. There are lighter injections into that underlying noise, the equivalent of choruses I guess. I prefer the darker moments though if I am honest. After laying out his mind on Scotland, the narration returns to the PE analogy. It's a little non-sensical, giving everything up for the equipment and ability to execute a singular exercise... I guess I see it as calling back to a perfect moment, a point of pure exhilaration.
There is life in the action of their guitars. I don't play, but I imagine that most of these songs are pretty simple, musically. Rather than going for great technical challenge they focus things down and execute well. Keep it simple stupid, and do it perfectly. Of course as soon as I type that it goes off at the speed of lightning. Whilst fast is not necessarily complex, I guess, it torpedoes the confidence I had in my statement all the same. The opening sentence of this paragraph remains valid though: the band give it some and when they want to the really drive pace through their strumming. It reminds me a bit of The Wedding Present (which I am pretty sure was a reference point at the time I was introduced).
Oh, spangly. I don't really recognise the opening to Leave the Earth Behind You and Take a Walk into the Sunshine. The general form of the track is very recognisably Ballboy, but for whatever reason I think I have not heard this so much. McIntyre's voice here is more ethereal and removed, perhaps fitting for a song which seems to have some existential angst to it ("are you happy with your life" indeed?), but the guitars fall into a familiar pattern. My complaint about this track is that it drones on a little bit - 8 minutes without any real change-up is too long however comfortingly familiar the sounds are. I am tired of it by 6 minutes for reference.
I get the impression that the end of this album will arrive quite suddenly, as the track lengths drop off a bit from this point. That said, I find Swim for Health to drag me down, the horn that has appeared for this track not really fitting - not carrying the burden of the tune as well as the guitars, which have been relegated to support acts. We lurch from that to a stripped back downbeat song. They'll Hang Flags From Cranes Upon My Wedding Day sounds like a positive title but the song has a weary air to it that means it comes across as more circumspect.
The closing is rather low key, too. There's a sense of resignation to Postcards from the Beach, clearly a break-up song, and Sex is Boring is... I dunno. I know the song, I like the song musically but it's a weird one, as it's opening line suggests the listener take him back for BDSM, that he then claims will be dull and unrelated to his purpose for visiting. It progresses into an angry diatribe or rant and, well... I ran out of words, and ran out of time as the song concluded, and with it the album. There are a few sketchy points on this one if I am honest - or maybe its my post-exercise brain failing me.
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