SOMETHING OLD
Pink Floyd - See Emily Play
June 16, 1967
In 1962, Roger Waters, Nick Mason, and Rick Wright all befriended each other as architecture students in London. Finding that they shared a love of music, they began playing together with a few other friends. Eventually, Waters invited his childhood friend Syd Barrett to join them. They began with a simple pop repertoire before transitioning to R&B music, slowly becoming known in the London underground music scene in places like the Marquee Club and the Roundhouse. By 1966, their music selections were incorporating experimental instrumental jamming accompanied by colorful slide projections and light presentations to fill the spaces they were in. At the helm of Barrett, these performances eventually ventured so deeply into psychedelia, one club owner refused to pay them because the show "was not music."
Pink Floyd - See Emily Play
June 16, 1967
In 1962, Roger Waters, Nick Mason, and Rick Wright all befriended each other as architecture students in London. Finding that they shared a love of music, they began playing together with a few other friends. Eventually, Waters invited his childhood friend Syd Barrett to join them. They began with a simple pop repertoire before transitioning to R&B music, slowly becoming known in the London underground music scene in places like the Marquee Club and the Roundhouse. By 1966, their music selections were incorporating experimental instrumental jamming accompanied by colorful slide projections and light presentations to fill the spaces they were in. At the helm of Barrett, these performances eventually ventured so deeply into psychedelia, one club owner refused to pay them because the show "was not music."
By early 1967, their unique approach was embraced enough to be signed, and they released their first single. By mid-1967, they put out their second single: See Emily Play on Side A and Scarecrow on Side B. The release date was June 16, which is my rapidly approaching birthday, and will be a common theme throughout the rest of this week's edition.
Tragically, Barrett's impressive innovation as the charismatic leader of the band fell as quickly as it rose. By late 1967, his behavior grew erratic presumably on account of a comorbid cocktail of mental illness and LSD abuse. Barrett was a central figure of my adolescence: my musical hero, my biggest crush, a symbol of the dark side of the 60s (not the moon), and a mirror reflection of how I so often felt.
See Emily Play is a great example of Barrett's playful side, which was truly him at his core and is how he should be remembered. Down to the slide guitar sound, reported to be played using either a Zippo lighter or a plastic ruler, the song is whimsically childlike and all about play. One of the lyrics, free Games for May, was based on a concert the band held the month before. Games For May, which took place in Queen Elizabeth Hall, was described as "space age relaxation for the climax of spring – electronic composition, colour and image projection, girls, and the Pink Floyd." There was a light show, a quadrophonic sound system, on-stage wood chopping, daffodils circulated by a man in an admiral costume, and a bubble machine.
Queen Elizabeth Hall did not invite the band back after that.
But that show truly does encapsulate the fanciful early years of Pink Floyd, which served as an integral foundation for what came later in the tremendously successful Gilmour years.
I wish See Emily Play an early happy 59th birthday!
SOMETHING NEW
Fousheé - Drive
June 12th, 2026
Fousheé - Drive
June 12th, 2026
While this is the only song in this week's edition to not be released on June 16th, Fousheé brings up birthday memories having seen her live the day after my 21st at the same concert referenced in "Something New" last week.
While the New Jersey-native singer-songwriter has been known for an R&B sound, this latest single transcends any one genre as its leans softly into something more indie. Elias Rønnenfelt of Iceage produced the track, which comes through in its grittier and lo-fi sound. What immediately struck me about it, though, is a vague resemblance to the 2000s songs of my childhood. I can't quite pinpoint what's causing this, but it's evoking something nostalgic.
Drive does not rely on nostalgia for anything, though. Infectious on its own, this has been one of the year's first releases to not require any time to "grow" on me. Fousheé and Rønnenfelt conjure the summery feeling of blinding sunlight & wind-blown blonde hair seen in the cover photo with a catchy, major-keyed chorus contrasted with a darker sense of longing characterized by dissonant and understated guitar screeches and minor-keyed verses. They blend the two seamlessly to bring the sentiment of song's final lyric to life: I just want to feel everything.
SOMETHING BORROWED
The Verve - Bitter Sweet Symphony (Samples The Last Time by The Rolling Stones & Andrew Oldham Orchestra)
June 16, 1997
The Verve - Bitter Sweet Symphony (Samples The Last Time by The Rolling Stones & Andrew Oldham Orchestra)
June 16, 1997
Once upon a time, a popular song by five English guys was arranged for strings. Three decades later, five different English guys arranged that arrangement into a different popular song. That's the simplified story of the ironically bittersweet history of The Verve's Bitter Sweet Symphony.
The idea of "borrowing" goes deeper than a simple cover this week, and more so than you might think. The Rolling Stones released The Last Time as a single in 1965 co-produced by the band's manager Andrew Loog Oldham and notorious "wall of sound" pioneer Phil Spector. As the Stones rose quickly to fame, the song was the third of the band's to reach #1 on the UK singles chart. Though it saves itself with some original arrangements and a distinctly rock & roll sound, the song no doubt borrowed from a traditional gospel song titled This May Be The Last Time, recorded by the Staple Singers in 1954. Early rock musicians were constantly getting away with ripping off black music, and the Stones apparently made the song their own enough to escape scot-free.
Oldham had the idea in the mid-60s to create orchestral versions of Stones songs in a project known as the The Rolling Stones Songbook. The selections, including The Last Time, were arranged by composer David Whitaker, flourishing them into lush instrumental symphonies. Impressed by its grand beauty, Richard Ashcroft of The Verve obtained a license from Decca Records in 1997 to sample it for their upcoming record's lead single Bitter Sweet Symphony. They took four bars of the orchestral arrangement and looped them throughout the song underneath many more instrumental and vocal tracks. The sheer volume of tracks actually evokes the rich "wall of sound" feeling on the original Stones song. The lyrics are completely original and truly speak to the everyman about the ups and downs of life and humanity. The song was a massive success, named "single of the year" by both Rolling Stone and NME.
Despite its merit, Ashcroft was sued relentlessly by Stones management as the song gained popularity. He was forced to relinquish 100% of the credits and royalties back to the iconic rock group. This cost him tens of millions of dollars over the years and discredited his original compositions. It's particularly frustrating knowing the gospel roots of the Stones' song, plus their minimal contribution to the orchestral arrangement. Arranger David Whitaker himself said "the whole thing just makes one a bit sick, really" regarding the legal battle. Finally, in 2019, an agreement was made to return everything back to Ashcroft.
Artistic integrity is deeply important to me when we witness brilliant minds get fleeced. But when all is fair, I get no pleasure from these kinds of cash-fueled stories of legal acrimony. I am reminded of the suicides of Badfinger's founding members Pete Ham and Tom Evans following a royalties battle over Without You. Litigation and greed have never been what music is about, but Ashcroft said it best: you're a slave to money then you die.
I wish Bitter Sweet Symphony an early happy 29th birthday!
SOMETHING... that was released on my birthday 40 years ago and entered my consciousness 10 years ago
The Smiths - The Queen Is Dead
June 16, 1986
The Smiths - The Queen Is Dead
June 16, 1986
Elizabeth II reigned as Queen of England from 1953 until her death in 2022. The Smiths' The Queen Is Dead not only pre-dates her passing by around 30 years, but was also released around 30 years after her coronation, placing the album in the middle of her tenure. It's an interesting way to think about time: Queen Elizabeth governed in the same period of my upbringing and an album that feels so distant from my lifetime. Regardless, the Queen is now actually dead.
The third album opens with an electrifying and anti-monarchy title track. While the record continues with heartbroken ballads like I Know It's Over and light-hearted airy tunes like Cemetry Gates, it begins uniquely with this punchy opener. It begins ominously with an old film recording of Take Me Back to Dear Old Blighty, a WWI-era English song about homesickness. Then, Johnny Marr's wah-wah-infused guitar sound and Mike Joyce's heavy drum intro pulsate. Few songs by The Smiths ever achieved such sonic heaviness, but I think it may be when they're at their best, as Barbarism Begins at Home and How Soon Is Now are among those few as well as my absolute favorites.
Lyrically, Morrissey digs deep into the monarchy he's living in. He attacks everything between current events that denoted a decline in autocracy, like poor security at Buckingham Palace which allowed a man to break in and talk to Elizabeth on the edge of her bed in 1982, to Freudian criticisms of Prince (now King) Charles. To return to my opening point, it's sincerely mind-boggling that this song still holds such obvious cultural relevance in the year of its 40th anniversary.
The concluding lyrics repeat: Life is very long when you're lonely. Morrissey, never shying away from quoting poetry and literature when he can, potentially partially took this line from T.S Eliot’s "The Hollow Men." The poem begets dark imagery of postwar apocalypse and Dantean hell, not an unfitting mood when singing about unchecked power.
I'll add that lot of the above words and concepts were unknown to me ten years ago, but the music spoke to me just as strongly. I took a look back at some of my old playlists and found a huge spike in songs from The Smiths beginning in July 2016. I was freshly fourteen and miserable, but this kind of music found me and thusly shaped my life and tastes forever.
I wish The Queen Is Dead an early happy 40th birthday, and an early 24th birthday to me on this 24th edition of the Something...Series' second season. 🩷