#140-#136

#140. YUNGBLUD - I Love You, Will You Marry Me (#69, 2017)

18th of 2017

In the time since I started writing this blog, I feel like the conversation around YUNGBLUD has changed significantly. I feel as though he's tapped into a completely different audience with a combination of the right change in presentation and buffer in the marketing department. It didn't really seem like a potential outcome years ago, but YUNGBLUD has secured the lucrative niche as one of the modern artists with a big baby boomer contingent in his audience. He toured Australia earlier in 2026 and it tipped the scales so far with an audience who still buy albums that he's gotten a second #1 album for his troubles. I don't think there's a big overlap between the people who bought those two albums on those particular weeks. His cover of "Changes" has made big waves and he might be setting up to be rock's saviour again.

I can't necessarily begrudge it; he's clearly come a long way. I wouldn't say he's the future, but for the time being, he's doing a very good job of emulating styles that were more in fashion decades ago. It's mostly Oasis and The Beatles which is distinctly different I promise. The one thing that stuck with me months ago and I've been waiting to point out is how much "The Greatest Parade" sounds like a ringer for "Empty Souls" by Manic Street Preachers. Potentially a recommendation whatever side of the fence you're coming from.

But then we flash back to 2017 and it's not entirely clear what we're going to get going forward. The comparison that stuck with me at the time was calling him a one man Arctic Monkeys, which after a little initial confusion, stuck with me for this song. That whole vibe of reckless abandon in the night, and incredibly British accents that slip in and out of rapping. "I Love You, Will You Marry Me" is just a song that you have to ride on the wave of, because it's too fast to stop and correctly process. It's a series of sucker punches every time it kicks into gear and it's all very effective.

#139. Cloud Control - Scar (#52, 2013)

28th of 2013

It's a good chance for a stock check update. Last time when I was talking about Cloud Control (#727), I was looking at the number of artists who had their last hurrah in 2013, compared to other years, which I felt was uncharacteristically high. 2021 had already lodged a smaller number without full album cycles having gone through. Now a year later, Lorde has had that album cycle and so the number has gotten smaller by one. There might be something in this still though because now I've jumped another year ahead to 2023 and we're still getting a similar number to 2013 and that's with far fewer proper returns, the nebulous inclusion of Peking Duk, and the extremely out of season appearances for blink-182 & Kylie Minogue. It might just be that there are less artists making the list now but I suspect something clearer will come out with this data once we've really settled into the current standard. It's a bit like when an artist returns from hibernation in a new era. They'll probably settle with something resembling their past success but the cracks will show. I am pointing to the example of Vampire Weekend getting two US #1 albums in their early days, coming back from a break in 2019 and getting another one, and then following it up by only reaching #27. I guess the past tense in "Only God Was Above Us" is important (but yes, I'm aware the title comes from a New York Daily News headline from 1988, I watch Pop Culture Jeopardy!).

Does any of this have much to do with Cloud Control? Well, not any more than it did before. I suppose Cloud Control did have the big sales collapse as well, scoring their highest charting album here in 2013, falling into 'Maybe you didn't even realise they had an album out' in 2017 but with weirdly decent streaming numbers. I suspect if they were to release another album, they might slip even further. We're really just looking at the last hurrah of when triple j both sounded like this, and was recognised for sounding like this. An extremely pleasant song like "Scar" could absolutely be found on the airwaves nowadays, but I don't think anyone would be talking about it.

To me, "Scar" is the band finding the best outlet for their brand of whimsy. It starts off with a cute keyboard riff but counters it with much slower drum hits. It's what I always remember most fondly about the song, as it manages to unlock something in the song's chorus that I'd describe as a bliss release if it weren't the wrong album. I've said before that I think Cloud Control can, if you pardon the pun, be a bit too light and airy, and I tend to like a more grounded rhythm to nod along to. It does enough that the band have probably even gotten away with the usual cardinal sin of taking a song title from the great Australian songbook.

#138. Childish Gambino - This Is America (#4, 2018)

13th of 2018

You can generally boil down hit songs into three categories. You've got the gimmicky songs of the moment that seem to create the biggest splash, whether or not they're appealing to the usual markets. They can be outwardly aware of this or it might just be a song that has some memetic component to it that starts a conversation. They tend to either fizzle out very quickly or become the biggest thing ever, or maybe even both. Then you've just got the standard hits that don't stand out particularly strongly but just seem to resonate with the moment, which isn't necessarily an insult. Finally you've got songs that are made by big stars that generally get their foot in the door through the privilege that entails, although it's not impossible for them to fit somewhere in the other two categories. Again, it's not necessarily an insult, I just think it's a worthy distinction because it's another thing that can be acknowledged about the era regarding who has that unceasing stranglehold on the public. A lot of discourse comes in the form of someone who probably prefers one side of the triangle being dismissive towards one or both of the other sides.

There are merits to all sides but I mainly want to focus on the first one because it's clearly the most unique option. The beauty of the charts in all their forms is that when they're working correctly and the options are available, they're open to pretty much anything happening as long as the greater public wills it. Three months before he died, Allen Ginsberg landed at #8 in the Hottest 100. That's chart space that generally belongs to Powderfinger or The Smashing Pumpkins but enough people decided they wanted the author of "Howl" there more. Something like this is probably not going to actually affect the world of music once it has its moment, and generally we'll see it as an accepted anomaly. Maybe it can point some people in the direction of a new niche to explore, but that's usually as far as it goes. Whoever it may be, is likely not going to get a major uptick in their career going forward apart from having a new thing to be remembered by.

This is my way of reckoning with what happened in 2018. "This Is America" was released in May 2018, and after a career of making music that skirted largely between the second and third categories, Childish Gambino landed firmly with a song in the first category. Maybe the potential was always there. He'd just had a big hit song that was a major slow burner (and will eventually turn up in front of my keyboard), so it follows that another big single could get everyone congregating at the same time and maybe have a big splash. This would track but I don't think it's what happened. "This Is America" opened up Childish Gambino to a much wider audience of people who'd never paid strong attention to his music before. Trap music was always struggling in the digital market in Australia. In that same week, "God's Plan" (#507) was #34 digitally and #8 on streaming, "Better Now" (#346) was #33 digitally and #2 on streaming. Yet there was "This Is America", the second best selling digital download in Australia for two straight weeks. He'd tapped into a conversation, or rather, made sure we were all paying attention to the one he started.

I'll drop the pretence, it's the video. I'll give consideration that maybe not everyone was around to see it unfold, but you probably know the video is why we're talking about this song. It might just be another category 2 or 3 song, but the video single-handedly transforms everything about it. It's to the point that you'll hear many people (I am one of these people) say that the actual song is a worse listening experience on its own. There are two moments in the video where Childish Gambino opens fire with a weapon and the raw shock value of seeing and hearing it greatly elevates the experience. Hearing it without them is an incomplete experience. It gives some purpose to an otherwise somewhat directionless song.

I mainly just say this because I feel like the song gestures towards a greater meaning that it doesn't really stick with. One of those songs that might have you thinking 'This is clearly a political statement' but not necessarily being able to clarify the statement it's trying to make. America is violent and dangerous? That's probably the core of it, but then you have to ask yourself why the song jumps between dark trap and campfire music on a whim. The contrast between the facade and the reality, I guess. Now you ask why four huge rap stars (and BlocBoy JB) are part of the song as background vocals. It all just seems so scattershot with the primary intent of overwhelming our understanding for long enough to stop us from questioning how worthwhile the song really is.

It's made the song into something that's aged in a peculiar way. As far as big hits of its stature go, it has some of the lowest listener retention numbers going around. Just way down in the pits behind most of his other noteworthy songs. There's always the possibility this turns around of course. The interesting thing about those category 1 songs is the way they do stick with us. You might not have willingly put on Lou Bega's "Mambo No. 5" in a long time or ever, but you could go a decade without hearing it and not forget a single word. Future generations could see this as a song that went to #1, with big accolades at the time and start to install a greater reverence onto it than it has now. That in itself is an interesting thing to look at.

#137. Courtney Barnett - Pedestrian at Best (#43, 2015)

20th of 2015

Any artist who skirts a little outside of the usually accepted sounds is inevitably going to have to make some form of concession to hit the big time. It might not even be apparent really; they'll keep doing what they're doing. There's just a funny habit in it all where they'll have that one hit that stands out above the rest, and you'll start to re-analyse it in a pop context. The one song where people who might otherwise ignore or be repulsed by the artist will concede has some merit to it.

I don't think I'd actually pin down "Pedestrian at Best" as that one shining example in Courtney Barnett's discography. There's a lot to like beyond it as well, it just seems like there was a lot less attention given to her after this album. Personally I find the lack of a title lyric in this one has me often mixing it up with her later single "Nameless, Faceless". They're both highly volatile sounding songs that might get some detractors past the often lackadaisical aesthetic of her music.

"Pedestrian at Best" has everything at full force though. For an artist whose bread & butter is quotable lyrics, it's easy to believe that she might not focus as much on it for this one, but if anything it might be her most sharply written song to date. It's written deliberately with the intent of shoving in as many rhymes & syllables as possible, all while retaining her usual self-deprecating wit. Take your pick really but it's rare to get a conventionally structured song that has 3 different verses that all justify their inclusion without padding the song. When it comes to this sort of humour, I find that picking apart the conception of the joke can heighten it, or even be the best part. So I'm just imagining the flash of inspiration at throwing daylight savings under the bus and it's so funny to me as a low stakes form of playing along with the strange systems we live in.

#136. Banks - Gemini Feed (#80, 2016)

17th of 2016

I think I could probably do a pretty good career summary for Banks in the space of one entry. A nice, clean chronological affair that covers all the essentials. Unfortunately for that, she actually has two entries here and we're again going in reverse order so it's all a little messy. It's one of the best outcomes for me though because she genuinely got in fast with my two favourite songs of hers from this time frame. Recently I've found a great amount of fondness for her collaboration with Jai Wolf, "Don't Look Down", which is a big shout if you're ever in the mood for another "Run Away With Me".

I suppose the lesson here is that there's yet another hit song by a Gemini about being a Gemini. I don't know who the song is about, so it's possible that they're a Gemini as well. No shot it's Steve Lacy (#250) though, the age gap is just far too big. I remember thinking at the time that Banks was surprisingly old for a new artist. Plenty of artists have fizzled out completely by age 26, but that's how old she was when her debut album came out. Depending on how you look at it though, we might already be at the end of that story anyway just two years later. It's a relatively brief time in the spotlight that naturally correlates with her time spent on a subsidiary of a subsidiary of a major label. She put out her third album a few years later in 2019 and it did reasonably well despite not having much in the way of crossover hits. Ever since then, her next two albums have been released independently and made very little impact. The biggest stroke of luck she's had is teaming up with Doechii right when her career was blowing up, but it hasn't moved the needle much outside of that song. I'm not sure if the future holds much for her career but she just had her first child so there might be different priorities going forward.

I have to assume in hindsight that her label did an excellent job of promoting her music while they were though. It'll be a topic of discussion another time because I found the whole situation a little strange at the time. As a singer, Banks has an unusual intonation that feels scratchy or not quite right. I'm not sure I could even say that she gets over the line with undeniable songwriting either, because her brand of downtempo electronica just feels a little directionless at times.

If there's an exception to all of this, it's probably "Gemini Feed", which feels like her most evident push for some kind of crossover success. She's still serving those scratchy vocals, but for once she resolves it with a big chorus. One where she sings clearly, directly, and with genuine scorn to overpower everything. It's so clearly the focal point that she named the album "The Altar", from this song's chorus. She even uses the same lyrics for the song's bridge, meaning that it effectively plays three times in a row. That's putting all the focus on your money shot. A big part of this can be credited to SOHN who produced this song, and has been a regular collaborator across Banks' entire career. I feel he has a knack for moody electronica that wraps its way around you with interesting progressions and switch ups. I don't want to make it sound like Banks isn't an auteur, and in fact she's had producer credits all across her last two albums. She has a bachelor's degree in psychology, so she's not just the pretty face behind it all. I don't think the song would work as well if it wasn't so relentlessly scornful in the lyrics.