SINGLES GOING STEADY: "THERE ARE NO WORDS" BY TODD RUNDGREN

Appearing on Rundgren's 1970 debut album Runt,  "There Are No Words" is exactly what it sounds like.  It is layers of Todd's vocal harmonies in the form of "ahhhs," "ohhhs" and "ooohs."  Cynics will likely refer to it as a throwaway track.  Such hypothetical cynics would be making it painfully obvious that they have never created—or even attempted to create—music.  Anyone who has will more than likely understand how incredible this piece is.  From a Harmonic perspective, this song is unreal.  The dissonance that Todd achieves in the first 30 seconds of the piece feels impossible.  As a songwriter—not like you should be impressed by that—I couldn't help but wonder "How did he come up with that?"

There is a creepiness in the first half of "There Are No Words" which may dissuade listeners with a narrow musical palette.  If that's you, I suggest you keep listening.  Around 30 seconds, the eeriness transforms into something unspeakably beautiful.  Though there are no words, I can't help but feel like Todd Rundgren is trying to tell listeners something.  Runt is a terrific record, but Rundgren's lyrics make him appear to be very self-conscious.  "Who's That Man"  makes him sound jealous.  "Believe In Me" is a confession about being misunderstood.  The first half of "There Are No Words" is the "misunderstanding" part of Todd Rundgren and the second half is the sensitivity or his compassion, heart and/or soul.  However you interpret it, it is a gorgeous song.  I know it's sacrilege, but I'm not sure The Beatles ever had harmonies as incredible as this.  I'm sure they'd give Todd a thumbs up—he is the guitarist in Ringo Starr's All Star Band, for what it's worth. 

"There Are No Words" by Todd Rundgren

Now is the perfect time to confess that I've been using the words "song" and "piece" interchangeably.  I have always wondered whether "There Are No Words" is a "song" or a "piece."  As I learned in college (more on that college here ), there is an actual difference between the two. 

Courtesy of Merriam-Webster:

• Piece (of music): A musical Composition; a musical work that has been created.

• Song: A short poem or other set of words set to music or meant to be sung.

You understand the difference now.  A piece would usually refer to something instrumental and a song is a "set of words" that is sung.  

So what is "There Are No Words"?  It is sung, but there are no words.  So is it a piece? 

Forget I even brought this up.  I think it's important to listen to Runt by Todd Rundgren because it's an amazingly varied and possibly perfect album.  At the very least, listen to "We Gotta Get You A Woman," the hit that put Todd Rundgren on the map.  

Runt by Todd Rundgren

Temporary Room by Stagnant Pools

Temporary Room by Stagnant Pools

If your niche lies in the noise-rock, shoegaze of bands like My Bloody Valentine, Jesus & Mary Chain, Sonic Youth and Caribou, you're going to want to pay attention to Stagnant Pools and their debut album Temporary Room.

Stagnant Pools was formed by brothers and Indiana natives Bryan and Douglass Enas, who play guitar and drums respectively.  And that's it.  No bass, no synth and hardly any guitar effects besides loads of Kevin Shields-style distortion.  Temporary Room makes the Enas's familial relations absolutely apparent.  The songs are soldered with so much genetic chemistry that it's as if it was the creation of one person.  But it's not.  And despite being a caffeinated noisy cocktail, you can't accuse these brothers of overplaying.  This indicates an impressive level of discipline, but more remarkably, a natural command of songwriting and songcraft.  It might not sound like pop music, but these brothers know their way around a pop hook, keeping the music deceptively simple and very catchy.

Even for fans of the genre, it can take four or five songs to get into Stagnant Pools.  It's easy to write the first third of Temporary Pools as admirable—albeit ordinary—indie rock.  But beginning with the majestic title track, Pools simply dominates, spilling out great track after great track.  It's addicting stuff and while Stagnant Pools aren't innovators with their sonics, Temporary Room makes for one hell of a debut.  

Temporary Room by Stagnant Pools

TESTING FOR TALENT IS LIKE TESTING FOR DRUGS

Talent

Talent

Talent

Before you go off and say someone is talentless, I'd like you to remember something:

Testing for talent is like testing for drugs.

Now what do I mean by that?  

Let's say a couple of 16 year olds go to a party.   At this party they do a lot of things.  They dance with a couple of girls, sing some Black Eyed Peas songs and drink a lot of really bad—but really cheap—beer.  As the hours pass, people start to leave until there's only five kids left.  One of those kids breaks out some pot.  The two 16 year olds take a hit or two and then they. chill. out.  They spend the next few hours playing Super Smash Brothers and listening to Pink Floyd.  Inspired by the band Sublime, two of the other kids smoke two joints each.  Then there's a kid named Ian, but he goes by "Rainbow Sprinkles."  Rainbow Sprinkles takes out an eight foot bong and he just annihilates himself on a mixture of two types of weed called Rosacea and Lee Sklar's Beard.  It's ridiculous how stoned Rainbow Sprinkles gets.  

Suddenly, something hits each of these kids simultaneously.  They're hungry—really fucking hungry.  So Rainbow Sprinkles decides they should all drive to Carl's Jr.  Together all five of them drive in a VW Bus to get some burgers.

They don't get too far, however.  Rainbow Sprinkles drives the VW Bus into five different mailboxes.  All the lights turn on in the neighborhood and the cops arrive.  Each of the boys gets taken into the station for a drug test.

Now let's reexamine how stoned each of these kids are.  Our original heros—the two 16 year olds—only took a couple of hits.  The Sublime idolizers smoked two joints.  Rainbow Sprinkles? Nobody knows how much he smoked—but, boy, was it a lot!

All of them receive the same grade on their drug tests: POSITIVE.  

Testing for talent is like testing for drugs.

I suppose people can be one of three things in life: a minor talent, a major talent or not a talent at all.  Only one of them will fail the talent drug test and that is the one who has no talent at all.  Everyone else passes—even if their talent is as small as Tinkerbell.

One of my biggest pet peeves is when someone incorrectly refers to a musician as talentless.  Chances are if you've heard of the artist, they're more than likely talented.  It doesn't mean they're as talented as Bob Dylan or Paul Simon.  It just means they passed the test.  

Most people do not pass the talent drug test.  How do you know for sure when someone does? You're going to hate this answer.  You know someone is talented when everybody is listening to and watching them.  People do not engage with an artist that lacks any talent.  

Now this has nothing to do with how good someone is.  We all have a different test for that.