“Bells for Her” by Tori Amos (Under the Pink, 1994)

By Danielle Bulhoes

This song makes me feel like a little girl again. It could be because of the piano, the haunting sound reminding me of a music box I had that my grandmother gave me, or it could be how Amos’ lyrics conjured up memories of friends that were found and lost through the years since I was in elementary school.

It makes me ache. It makes me want to travel back in time and confront the people who didn’t give me the choice of whether or not they got to stay in my life. Maybe if I had said something then, they’d still be around. Maybe not.

Amos prophecizes that neither she or I “can stop what’s coming, can’t stop what is on its way”. It definitely feels like that sometimes, doesn’t it? Looking back, could I have done something different? Could I have saved someone the pain their choices would cause? Could I have saved myself? How much control did I really have over my relationships?

The narrative that Amos shares through “Bells for Her” is that of two childhood friends who grow apart. Amos grieves the loss of the relationship and the change that her friend goes through, sad to see them less than they were. Ground down “to be sand under his shoes.” And the friend is not the only one who changes. Amos is changed too. But even though their relationship isn’t what it was and that their both different people, Amos says that she “can’t stop loving”.

This song is so personal. Whether it’s a friend, boyfriend, girlfriend, parent, sister, brother, etc., sometimes you can’t stop a relationship ending. And that’s ok. “Bells for Her” tells you that when you leave someone behind or get left behind yourself, you don’t always get a clean resolution. You don’t get closure. And that can trouble someone for a long time. But I think the main focus of the song is, even if you can’t say goodbye, you’ll still have those memories to remind yourself that it wasn’t all bad. And if you felt as happy as you did then, there’s a chance of you feeling like that again.

Tori Amos, “Space Dog” (Under The Pink, 1994)

By Allesandro Rotondi

The second I turned on “Space Dog,” I wondered if I’d turned on a smooth Sonny Rollins jazz tune. Several seconds later, I felt as though I had been lurched into a 007 movie. The sneaking bass synthesizer drives the rhythm of the tune, and Tori Amos’ smooth vocals lurk in the distance with a spacey, reverberated echo that clearly represents the song’s title. The tune draws from many different styles and genres, and some of them come across as quite odd. However, like the title’s juxtaposition of words space and dog may suggest, this is an odd song.

Elements of jazz, funky guitar strumming, punky bass synths, and melodious classically-reminiscent piano playing are some of the many influences that can be heard melded together within this profound piece. Amos also sprinkles in moments of melodic dissonance, using suspenseful piano tones that lead to a cadence, in which all tension is resolved. Droning guitar tones also linger in the background, creating a spacey vibe that paints a picture for the listener, as though a dog were driving a moon rover through space. At times the beat is driving in a 4/4 time, straight rock style with full instrumental texture, and at other times, Tori transitions into a smooth bridge that flows with light piano, in a Romantic-era style reminiscent of Chopin. That being said—when looking at a list of standout 1994 tracks, you will likely see cuts from alternative, grunge, pop and punk bands like Weezer, Nirvana, Green Day, Bush and The Cranberries. But among that list, you may find a more difficult to pinpoint Under The Pink track. Among this list, Tori Amos’ sound, exemplified on “Space Dog,” is something fresh, unique, and different. It is unlike the stereotypical grunge and alternative styles that define the era to newer generations, and even comes off as a breath of fresh air beside the often cookie-cutter Top 40 pop music of today.

Tori Amos breaks free of pop expectations and rules, to create music for herself. And that’s something that never goes out of style.

Tori Amos, “God” (Under the Pink, 1994)

By Chelsea Ives

Tori Amos’s song, “God” from her 1994 album Under the Pink, opens with funky electronic sounds that could be the interlude music between a 90’s sitcom cut – just picture the music between cuts in Friends and I think you get the idea. Although the album’s themes are as far from happy-go-lucky as you can get. Amos faces serious issues like rape, feminism, and religion head-on throughout Under the Pink.

The theme of “God” is an everyday truth for women: “You got your 9’9 iron in the back seat just in case […]”, Amos sings ironically acknowledging women’s necessity for arming ourselves with make-shift weapons in case we are ever attacked at our cars late at night.  Amos achieved a song which laments and condemns the position of women in 1994 – a sound and position which still resonates in 2019. The line, “a few witches burning,” can hardly be ignored when considering the way women are treated, even now in the 21st century. Too often have women been used as scapegoats for men’s violent tendencies – as if we both ask for it and are the reason for it.

The song quotes the book of Proverbs from the new Testament: “Give not thy strength unto women nor thy ways to that which destroyeth kings”. In an interview with WHFS Press, Amos describes how she was trying to represent the oppression of women and minorities in the bible in her music, and how her Methodist-minister father could not conceive of the oppression, “[…] it was very interesting to me how my father … just can’t acknowledge the way that the church has treated not just women, but people in other cultures […]”. No doubt this was all the proof Amos needed towards the importance of her musical activism.

Overall, the song fits perfectly in the setup of the album, which begins by laying out the plight of women with strong and ironic vocals from Amos, leading in to the second half of the album which rejoices in hopefulness for women taking back the control over their own lives and bodies.

Official Music video for Tori Amos’ song, “God”

Tori Amos, “Icicle” (Under The Pink 1994)


“The one good thing about being a piano player folks, is that you have a really good left hand; the nice thing about it is that you can pretend it’s anybody you want”

-Tori Amos

The very least expected thing to say before playing a beautiful piano ballad. With a statement like that Tori Amos had the audience screaming for her. As soon as Amos played the first keys on the piano, the crowd immediately died down to listen to a song that is thrilling yet unsettling.

In her album Under The Pink, “Icicle” starts with a preempt to what is to be expected throughout the song. The piano bit in the beginning sounds like a little girl opening her ballerina jewelry box and being pulled into a fairy tale. It is genuinely pure. This doesn’t last long as the piano becomes off key and a winter beast approaches stripping away any last piece of innocence the little girl possesses. The beginning of this track literally had me grasping onto every word that is sung throughout.

Aside from Tori Amos’ angelic vocals, her lyrics are quite unsettling. Over the past 25 years, there have been so many different interpretations for this song. Some say it’s Amos masturbating to the divine, others say it’s about twisted priests. Whether it is or not, there is something disturbing happening throughout this track.  It makes anyone question what the true meaning behind “Icicle” is.

If you want to be pulled into a fairy tale that has been stripped away of its innocence, click the video below and give this track a listen. I promise you, you will be left with long lasting goosebumps that only a prayer or a heavy blanket will get rid of.

-Maria

Sharon Van Etten, “No One’s Easy To Love” (Remind Me Tomorrow, 2019)

By Michaela Maxey

Can I just begin to say that this song obliterated all my expectations of what I expected it to be. What I thought would be your classic breakup song with slow instruments and a soft voice turned out very differently.  

Instead, I was met with sharp drums, quick beats, and synthesizers giving me the impression that a mission was about to begin. And let me tell you, this mission was not going to be easy.

The song opens with Van Etten’s voice telling the story of the return of her ex as “Too much has changed, I can’t let you walk in in the night/ I wish away my love, leave with the dawn”. The lyrics just seem so sad, but the beat is so upbeat that I’m conflicted with my emotions in the beginning. Do I mourn this permanent loss of the ex or am I going through a totally empowering final goodbye. Either way, it seems that this song is the narrative of Van Etten’s past relationship.

For ten years, Van Etten was in an on-again-off-again relationship that found its place on her albums Are We There and Tramp, so it is no surprise that her ex turns up in this album despite their breakup. Since Are We There, Van Etten has gone back to school for psychology, dabbled in acting, and had a baby. It is obvious that her life has been nothing short of hectic, making Remind Me Tomorrow the perfect name for this album.

As Van Etten sings “Don’t look back my dear, just say you tried”, I can’t help but put my fist in the air to cheer on Van Etten’s resolve to not take back her ex and remind us all that love in itself is messy and complicated.

Deerhunter’s “Death in Midsummer”

By Mina Wiebe

Back in 2011 you couldn’t turn on the radio without hearing that one song by Foster the People—you know the one I’m talking about. “Pumped Up Kicks” was this smooth indie/pop- psychedelic tune that pulled you in with an upbeat drum and an oh-so-catchy chorus. I remember how obsessed everyone was with it, but I also remember that (seemingly) out of nowhere, people suddenly realized that the song was about a school shooting, and they were pissed. What amazes me to this day is that people were so shocked; the song doesn’t exactly hide its meaning—this wasn’t a moment of reading in between the lines. “All the other kids with the pumped up kicks/ You’d better run, better run, out run my gun” pretty much speaks for itself.

I get it though, I do. You hear the allure of upbeat instrumentals and vocals, and your brain automatically assumes it can rule out the possibility that the song is about such a dark topic. This is exactly what happened to me when I listened to the first track from Deerhunter’s newest album.“Death in Midsummer” is a track that tackles the dark existentialism behind the inevitability of death, and strangely enough it’s accompanied by an upbeat harpsichord. By title alone, I suppose I should have expected the dark themes, but my expectations were totally blurred by the delicate twinkling of the instrument and lead singer Bradford Cox’s smooth and bright vocals. When I finally listened closely to hear lyrics such as “[y]our friends have died/And their lives, they just fade away” along with “[a]nd in time/ You will see your own life fade away” I was shocked to say the least. Unlike the furious “Pumped Up Kicks” fans however, I didn’t feel a sense of betrayal. On the contrary, I was wildly amused at Deerhunter’s ability to mess with my expectations.

The harpsichord is definitely the song’s pièce de résistance, and it’s accompanied by simple keyboard playing and much-needed drumming. I say “accompanied” because it honestly feels like the rest of the music (aside from the vocals) is accompanying the harpsichord; it’s quite literally the first thing you hear, and it remains a focal point for the remainder of the song. Not to mention it provides a necessary lightness to the grim lyrics, almost acting as a counterbalance to the heaviness of the existential dread. The burst of drumming later in the song is absolutely necessary though, and I was relieved they brought it in when they did; as much as I enjoy the  unique sound that the harpsichord produces, the unchanging melody and rhythm would have been overwhelming on its own.

Most importantly though, the harpsichord does for “Death in Midsummer” what the upbeat drumming and vocals does for “Pumped Up Kicks”: the lyrics hide behind the bounciness of the sound, but once realized, blow your mind and remind you to pay attention to the damn song.

DeerHunter, “No One’s Sleeping” (Why Hasn’t Everything Already Disappeared?, 2019)

By: Julia Ristoska

When you first listen to “No one’s Sleeping” on Deerhunter’s newly released album Why Hasn’t Everything Already Disappeared? it is quite easy to feel like you are being drowned in sound. The lyrics take back stage and are buried deep in between guitar strums and drum attacks. If you just focus on the lyrics you would assume that this is quite the simple song. The lines are short and consist of only two verses and instrumental breaks that repeat throughout the four minutes.

However, you know with any minimalist painting, there is always something deeper beyond the horizontal black line on a canvas. This song like a work of art has a deep history and meaning behind the external make-up. Lead singer Bradford Cox told Uncut that “No One’s Sleeping” pertains to be about the murder in the UK of Labour MP Jo Cox. The politician was killed by Thomas Mair, a mentally ill man associated with far-right organizations.”

This is far from just the simple song, and it is surprising to discover that it has such a heavy political undertone. Especially since the lyrics are written and structured in a form of a nursery rhyme. There is no doubt that this violent act definitely impacted the band, and their own emotions were expressed in the song. This incident allowed for a reflection on our society, and all its madness as Bradford Cox told Uncut,“It’s a representative of the ills of our culture. It’s representative of that mania, of nationalism. It’s madness that this person died so violently, a person with a family, with friendships…”

Although, the song touches upon a very serious topic, it actually began sounding very upbeat and the smooth vocals were enough to put you to sleep. That was until distorted guitars terrorized the calmness. The blast of random and cluttered layers of sound actually has a greater purpose. It shows how the murder of Jo Cox was done without any good reason. The distorted sounds were placed to express that the death was in indeed meaningless and the act was destructive. There really is no good reason to explain why such a traumatic event occurred. The song itself also can’t explain why, and in a way it resembles a mania episode. Its abnormally upbeat, reaches a peak of high euphoria, and crashes with bad decisions. Yet, overall Deerhunter does a great job in creating a complex and unified piece despite the madness.

Sharon Van Etten’s “I’ve Told You Everything” (Remind Me Tomorrow, 2019)

A lot of things have happened in the past five years, for a “double-threat” artist like Van Etten. It had been a very tumultuous couple of years for her as she had been kickstarting her acting career, as well as starting her own family.

She decides to peel back all of these layers of herself to create something so personal and raw, at whilst trying to redefine herself in her music. Very different from her previous singles or typical sound.

Van Etten’s album allows to you to connect emotionally to what she has been through, watching her grow track-by-track and following her on her “journey to the past” draws the relationship between the fans and herself even closer.

“And in life, it is all about the choices we make, and how the direction of our lives comes down to the choices we choose.”

Catherine Pulsifer

I think this very accurately explains what I felt listening to the song and what I think Van Etten was trying to get at where she introduces the listener to the hectic rollercoaster to come.

The album starts off with the track, “I Told You Everything”, which brings together a consistent piano chord, synthesized backbeats, and a soft melody to create a sobering authenticity of what it feels like to strip away all your secrets to someone you love.

The slow tempo can symbolize the difficulty it was to allow herself to feel vulnerable. The instrumental in combination with her haunting voice, transport you into her own atmospheric world, and if you close your eyes, you can imagine being in that bar too listening to this heart-wrenching four-minute confession.

This song made me want to reach over the table and hold her hand or give her a hug and applaud the fact that she is choosing to wear her heart on her sleeve and let us get a snapshot of her personal life, throughout the song.

The rest of the album only gets more self-reflective from here-on-in, but Remind Me Tomorrow starts on such a strong note with the first track setting everything up for what you think is to come, the other songs follow in its lead, little do they know they better strap in for the ride!

-Genna Dara

“Tarnung” by Deerhunter

Hello readers!

This week we’re looking at Deerhunter’s new album Why Hasn’t Everything Already Disappeared? The particular track I want to talk about today is “Tarnung”.

This track makes you pick up your phone as soon as you hear it.

Not because you want to Tweet about how great the song is (although you could). It’s because of Deerhunter’s use of a marimba within the first few seconds of the song.

A marimba is like a big wooden xylophone. Which is used to make those ringtone jingles on iPhones.

I had to look this up.  

What better way to grab your audience’s attention, right? Just make them think that their phone is ringing.

After my initial anxiety faded over the possibility of having to actually talk to someone on my phone (the horror!), “Tarnung” held my attention with it’s soothing, almost chant-like lyrics.

The lyrics are grounded, centering around natural images like rivers, rain and “gold light”. If I closed my eyes, I could almost smell the scent of peeling bark, hear the rustle of leaves above my head, feel warm touches of light than sneaked through branches on my face.

I was more relaxed after this song than if I’d just finished a strong cup of tea.

If I were meditating on top of a mountain with a bunch of Buddhist monks, this song would not have been out of place.

Maybe it was the smooth saxophone, or the steady drum beat, which was like a heart. Or maybe it was the tinkling sound of chimes. Maybe it was the combination of it all.

Whatever it was, I just found my new de-stressor track.

Check out Deerhunter’s “Tarnung”.

Deerhunter, “What Happens to People” (Why Hasn’t Everything Already Disappeared, 2019)

By Allesandro Rotondi


After nearly twenty years on the radar, Deerhunter is clearly no slouch on the pop/rock playing field. One tune that particularly caught my ears was the bittersweet “What Happens to People,” off their new album Why Hasn’t Everything Already Disappeared. With a colourful sound, bright guitar and piano tones, and harmoniously consonant chords, this tune comes off as lighthearted on the first listen, but quickly turns into a melancholic croon for answers to the immortal question of human existence and purpose. The song is dynamically split between texturally light guitar and piano playing panned left and right, with drums, bass, and vocals as the centre focus. The thrice-recurring bridge section halts the uptempo groove to a half-time shuffle, entirely at the hands of the drummer, who is the driving force behind the song’s rhythms. The later bridges also find the drums split into two separate tracks of individual playing, layering rolls and fills that thicken the dynamic texture that contrasts the rest of the song.

The instrumentation, playing style, sound, smooth vocals, and especially production, all harken back to the retro days of psychedelic pop, but with a modern twist; like The Zombies’ Odessey and Oracle, coupled with a subtle layer of synthesized keyboard parts that drive the vintage sound into the 21st century. This song could be interpretively taken two ways. Like the yearning lyrics and tone of Bradford Cox’s voice, coupled with the backdrop of radiant and almost-smiling instrumentation, the world does not stop for anyone or their concerns. What happens to people? Perhaps like the tone of the music, the world keeps moving forward and eventually forgets all about you. In another light, the instrumentation reassures the curiosity and doubtfulness of the vocals and lyrics, as though the world comes to remind you at times of pending grief that everything will once again be okay in time. The striking piano melodies that tinker between the breaks in the verses’ vocals allude to this possibility. “Take a step back, and figure it out,” Cox sings. It might all be rhetorical, but perhaps eventually we just may figure it out.