Often, Television gets labeled as a post-punk or New Wave band. In my humble opinion, it's difficult to comfortably pigeonhole the band into either genre. Sure, there's a DIY, do-it-yerself aesthetic to their music that fits the punk/post-punk mold. But even with the punky crunch, there's a lot less sneer and much more melodicism and groove, not unlike Television's New Yawk contemporaries Talking Heads and Blondie, not to mention Brits Nick Lowe and Elvis Costello. There also are obvious nods to the Velvet Underground and, if you want to reach even further back, Buddy Holly, too.
But, so much for genre. To hell with genre.
"Marquee Moon" is a sprawling track that, on the surface, should turn stale after a few minutes: it's built on a repeating riff that modulates every two bars and then cycles, again and again, for pretty much the entire song.
But it's what happens along the way that makes you wish it could go on twice as long.
First of all, the groove on this song is airtight. Fred Smith (bass) and Billy Ficca (drums) lock in from moment one and don't let go the entire time. Then there's the strategic, twin guitar attack of Verlaine and Richard Lloyd throughout--it's particularly compelling on each bridge leading into the chorus. Plus there's Verlaine's voice--a nasal whine with genuine honesty and sincerity that grabs you from the moment it arrives out of nowhere and announces, "I remember!"
But the crown jewel of the song is Verlaine's guitar solo from about 4:50 - 9:10. It's not a flashy solo; he doesn't fly across the fretboard like some Django Reinhardt or Jeff Beck disciple. Instead, he weaves this impressionistic thread that calls to mind John Coltrane's modal experiments. In fact, there are parts of the solo that have the same feeling as Coltrane's inspired noodlings from "My Favorite Things."
Finally, when it's all over, the song quietly dissolves into these droplets of piano, like beams of moonlight shining through the trees.
It's enthralling. All 10:40 of it.
No comments:
Post a Comment