Song of the Moment: Red Sleeping Beauty
Posted: Sun November 03, 2013 8:47 pm
So, I was asked to help kick off a new series of this by stip, and, well...how can I turn down a request like that from a guy like him? Apologies if this is already a song everybody knows and/or hates. I've obviously never done one of these, so be kind. It's very possibly I've missed the mark in terms of everything I should've done here. But anyways, here goes...
Song of the Moment: Red Sleeping Beauty - McCarthy
My memory of the first time I heard this song is as vivid as that of just about any song I've ever come across. It was February of 2001. I was steeped in the excitement of the new Manic Street Preachers album that was to come out in March. XTRMNTR & Binaural were finally getting around to well-earned rests from my discman after being played virtually non-stop since their releases. There were plenty of other current albums I was still adoring; Stories from the City, Stories from the Sea, Thirteen Tales from Urban Bohemia, and The Menace, but as a pissed off leftist college student in the wake of the Bush-Gore debacle, I needed something to speak to my frustrations and aggression. I knew the Manics album would hit that spot for me, but I had a pleasant surprise in store for me in the interim.
A good friend of mine was chatting with me about the album we were both eagerly anticipating when he brought up the news leak that there was a hidden track at the end of the album, a cover of the song “We Are All Bourgeois Now” by the band McCarthy. “Have you ever listened to McCarthy?” he asked me.
I hadn't. I knew their song “Charles Windsor” from the Manics covering it in the mid-90's, but had never sought them out. “They're nothing like the Manics cover of Charles Windsor,” my friend told me. “They're...well, you really just have to hear them.”
It turned out my friend had managed to track down a few songs floating around on the internet (this was before everything in the world was easily and instantly accessible), and swore they were worth seeking out. He'd been unable to track down a cd and couldn't find more than a few tracks online, but he seemed absolute in his determination that this band was special. I was at one of those stages where it took very little for me to have my curiosity piqued, so that afternoon when I hopped on the el and headed to the Virgin Megastore to look for some music to tide me over for the next month or so I made sure to keep a mental note to check for something by the apparently elusive McCarthy.
While spending a few hours browsing the the endless racks of discs, I finally made my way to McCarthy. There was a lone disc there, an all white cover with a red drawing of a man with a knife in his teeth and the words “the best of McCarthy: that's all very well, but...” I was in my “Ugh, compilations” phase, but knowing this might be the only chance I'd have to buy a record of theirs, I sucked it up and dropped way too much money on it (probably upwards of $20...imagine that). Because I felt bad about spending as much a single album I'd heard nothing from as I did, it was to be my only purchase of the afternoon, and for the foreseeable future. As I stood in the big exit area in Virgin, bundling up and getting ready to brave a nasty, cold Chicago afternoon to walk back to the el, I cautiously unwrapped my new purchase, slipped it into my discman, and hoped for the best.
As I stepped out into the bitter February air and hit play, I felt a chill go down my spine and was instantly aware that it had nothing to do with the weather. A single, reverb-laden, jangly guitar let an almost mournful, hesitant cry that slowly turned into a beautiful melodic phrase. A world of toms punctuated by military-esque bursts of snare propelled the song forward as the initial melancholy lead guitar suddenly took on an air of euphoria. It was totally familiar, but at the same time totally unique. The Smiths had never sounded this ethereal. R.E.M. had never sounded this focused. I walked in a daze down Michigan Avenue listening to one of the most instantly beautiful pieces of pop music I had ever heard.
Nearly ninety seconds into the song, the vocals finally appeared. “I've been sound asleep for twenty years/If I'm sound asleep for a hundred years/She won't wake me.” The lyrics matched the music perfectly. The voice was clear and distinctly British. It oozed idealism and a naively peaceful sense of defiance. “Nothing stirs us/Sound asleep/We're sound asleep.” I was stunned. This was gorgeous. How did everyone in the world not know this song and this band? How did every Smiths/R.E.M./Primal Scream/La's/Byrds fans I had ever met not known about them, and if they did, why did they not tell me? I pulled the case out of my pocket. “Red Sleeping Beauty” it was called.
Knowing the bit about McCarthy that I did, it was obvious by the title that the song was political in nature. I rushed to play it again, this time focusing on the words. “While there's still a war to win/My red dream is everything/They won't wake me.” What a beautiful sentiment, and in that moment everything I needed to hear. “If I'm sound sleep a thousand years/He won't wake me.” The message was as uplifting in the face of political tribulations as anything I'd ever heard. I figured the “she” who won't wake him was Margaret Thatcher, and assumed the “he” was probably Ronald Reagan based on when the track was from (1986). Fifteen years later, the song seemed every bit as relevant as it must have in 1986. It gave me a calm and a clarity that very few things did at that time, and, while not the noise and fury I thought I was seeking out from the world at the time, it turned out to be so much more valuable. It also bizarrely made perfect sense to me that the most beautiful love song I'd ever heard was a paean to a political idea, and not another human being. I played that compilation over & over again (and very little else) for the rest of February and most of March
In the time since then, McCarthy became one of my favorite bands ever. I spent the next several years trying to spread the word of their glories to every other musician and/or music geek I encountered. Their debut album, “I Am A Wallet,” is one of the greatest indie records of the 1980's, if not all-time. I urge anyone with even a tinge of interest to either hunt it down, or if you're really that inclined, PM me & I'll, erm, help you out. I learned Tim Gane, later of Stereolab, was a member of the band at one point. But this was a different world than Stereolab. This was something unique unto itself. The compilation turned out to be laced with amazing tracks; “Should the Bible Be Banned?,” “An MP Speaks,” “We Are All Bourgeois Now,” “Frans Hals,” “The Well of Loneliness.” I could go on, but you get the point. Yet, despite all of the majestic material on the disc, nothing was quite as jaw-dropping as “Red Sleeping Beauty.” Even if you've got no political agenda in the world (or the opposite political agenda), but are a fan of lush, melodic guitar pop, this is a track worth spending time with. Turn it up as loud as you can, close your eyes, and let yourself be enveloped by the sound...
TL,DR = This song is fucking awesome.
I've been sound asleep for twenty years
If I'm sound asleep a hundred years
She won't wake me
She won't wake me
I've been sound asleep for twenty years
If I'm sound asleep a thousand years
He won't wake me
He won't wake me
Nothing stirs us
Sound asleep
We're sound asleep
Nothing stirs us
Sound asleep
We're sound asleep
While there's still a war to win
My red dream is everything
They won't wake me
They won't wake me
Nothing stops us
Sound asleep
We're sound asleep
Nothing stops us
Sound asleep
We're sound asleep
Song of the Moment: Red Sleeping Beauty - McCarthy
My memory of the first time I heard this song is as vivid as that of just about any song I've ever come across. It was February of 2001. I was steeped in the excitement of the new Manic Street Preachers album that was to come out in March. XTRMNTR & Binaural were finally getting around to well-earned rests from my discman after being played virtually non-stop since their releases. There were plenty of other current albums I was still adoring; Stories from the City, Stories from the Sea, Thirteen Tales from Urban Bohemia, and The Menace, but as a pissed off leftist college student in the wake of the Bush-Gore debacle, I needed something to speak to my frustrations and aggression. I knew the Manics album would hit that spot for me, but I had a pleasant surprise in store for me in the interim.
A good friend of mine was chatting with me about the album we were both eagerly anticipating when he brought up the news leak that there was a hidden track at the end of the album, a cover of the song “We Are All Bourgeois Now” by the band McCarthy. “Have you ever listened to McCarthy?” he asked me.
I hadn't. I knew their song “Charles Windsor” from the Manics covering it in the mid-90's, but had never sought them out. “They're nothing like the Manics cover of Charles Windsor,” my friend told me. “They're...well, you really just have to hear them.”
It turned out my friend had managed to track down a few songs floating around on the internet (this was before everything in the world was easily and instantly accessible), and swore they were worth seeking out. He'd been unable to track down a cd and couldn't find more than a few tracks online, but he seemed absolute in his determination that this band was special. I was at one of those stages where it took very little for me to have my curiosity piqued, so that afternoon when I hopped on the el and headed to the Virgin Megastore to look for some music to tide me over for the next month or so I made sure to keep a mental note to check for something by the apparently elusive McCarthy.
While spending a few hours browsing the the endless racks of discs, I finally made my way to McCarthy. There was a lone disc there, an all white cover with a red drawing of a man with a knife in his teeth and the words “the best of McCarthy: that's all very well, but...” I was in my “Ugh, compilations” phase, but knowing this might be the only chance I'd have to buy a record of theirs, I sucked it up and dropped way too much money on it (probably upwards of $20...imagine that). Because I felt bad about spending as much a single album I'd heard nothing from as I did, it was to be my only purchase of the afternoon, and for the foreseeable future. As I stood in the big exit area in Virgin, bundling up and getting ready to brave a nasty, cold Chicago afternoon to walk back to the el, I cautiously unwrapped my new purchase, slipped it into my discman, and hoped for the best.
As I stepped out into the bitter February air and hit play, I felt a chill go down my spine and was instantly aware that it had nothing to do with the weather. A single, reverb-laden, jangly guitar let an almost mournful, hesitant cry that slowly turned into a beautiful melodic phrase. A world of toms punctuated by military-esque bursts of snare propelled the song forward as the initial melancholy lead guitar suddenly took on an air of euphoria. It was totally familiar, but at the same time totally unique. The Smiths had never sounded this ethereal. R.E.M. had never sounded this focused. I walked in a daze down Michigan Avenue listening to one of the most instantly beautiful pieces of pop music I had ever heard.
Nearly ninety seconds into the song, the vocals finally appeared. “I've been sound asleep for twenty years/If I'm sound asleep for a hundred years/She won't wake me.” The lyrics matched the music perfectly. The voice was clear and distinctly British. It oozed idealism and a naively peaceful sense of defiance. “Nothing stirs us/Sound asleep/We're sound asleep.” I was stunned. This was gorgeous. How did everyone in the world not know this song and this band? How did every Smiths/R.E.M./Primal Scream/La's/Byrds fans I had ever met not known about them, and if they did, why did they not tell me? I pulled the case out of my pocket. “Red Sleeping Beauty” it was called.
Knowing the bit about McCarthy that I did, it was obvious by the title that the song was political in nature. I rushed to play it again, this time focusing on the words. “While there's still a war to win/My red dream is everything/They won't wake me.” What a beautiful sentiment, and in that moment everything I needed to hear. “If I'm sound sleep a thousand years/He won't wake me.” The message was as uplifting in the face of political tribulations as anything I'd ever heard. I figured the “she” who won't wake him was Margaret Thatcher, and assumed the “he” was probably Ronald Reagan based on when the track was from (1986). Fifteen years later, the song seemed every bit as relevant as it must have in 1986. It gave me a calm and a clarity that very few things did at that time, and, while not the noise and fury I thought I was seeking out from the world at the time, it turned out to be so much more valuable. It also bizarrely made perfect sense to me that the most beautiful love song I'd ever heard was a paean to a political idea, and not another human being. I played that compilation over & over again (and very little else) for the rest of February and most of March
In the time since then, McCarthy became one of my favorite bands ever. I spent the next several years trying to spread the word of their glories to every other musician and/or music geek I encountered. Their debut album, “I Am A Wallet,” is one of the greatest indie records of the 1980's, if not all-time. I urge anyone with even a tinge of interest to either hunt it down, or if you're really that inclined, PM me & I'll, erm, help you out. I learned Tim Gane, later of Stereolab, was a member of the band at one point. But this was a different world than Stereolab. This was something unique unto itself. The compilation turned out to be laced with amazing tracks; “Should the Bible Be Banned?,” “An MP Speaks,” “We Are All Bourgeois Now,” “Frans Hals,” “The Well of Loneliness.” I could go on, but you get the point. Yet, despite all of the majestic material on the disc, nothing was quite as jaw-dropping as “Red Sleeping Beauty.” Even if you've got no political agenda in the world (or the opposite political agenda), but are a fan of lush, melodic guitar pop, this is a track worth spending time with. Turn it up as loud as you can, close your eyes, and let yourself be enveloped by the sound...
TL,DR = This song is fucking awesome.
I've been sound asleep for twenty years
If I'm sound asleep a hundred years
She won't wake me
She won't wake me
I've been sound asleep for twenty years
If I'm sound asleep a thousand years
He won't wake me
He won't wake me
Nothing stirs us
Sound asleep
We're sound asleep
Nothing stirs us
Sound asleep
We're sound asleep
While there's still a war to win
My red dream is everything
They won't wake me
They won't wake me
Nothing stops us
Sound asleep
We're sound asleep
Nothing stops us
Sound asleep
We're sound asleep
you know I'm right