Scott Walker | Angelica

“Scott Walker … the pop idol turned crooner turned shocking avant-garde auteur, died (in 2019) at age 76, but not before leaving behind one of the most fascinating catalogues of the rock era,” (The Second Disc). “An American and child actor on Broadway who found his success in England as one third of The Walker Brothers, Scott could have been content reliving his glory days of ‘The Sun Ain’t Gonna Shine Anymore,’ ‘Make It Easy on Yourself,’ and ‘Joanna.’  But the uncompromising artist never stopped pushing the envelope, as a songwriter, performer, and producer.

… The music business is famous for hyperbole, but it’s no exaggeration to say that few have had a career anything like that of Scott Walker. An American who skyrocketed to fame on British shores in the heady time that was the mid-1960s, Walker (born Noel Scott Engel in 1943) turned his back on the world of a pop idol. He became one of the first major performers to embrace and champion the dark musical melodramas of Jacques Brel but that, too, didn’t last long. After some largely undistinguished albums recorded during his self-described ‘lost years’ and a period of relative seclusion, Walker emerged, creating provocative soundscapes that dispensed with any traditional notions of melody or songwriting.”

“Angelica” (1967), written by Brill Building legends Barry Mann and Cynthia Weil, begins in B minor. At 1:10, a soaring vocal melody leads us into the first chorus, with a shift into B major. At 2:03, the pattern repeats, beginning with a second minor verse.

David Bowie | Life on Mars

“In music, there are some songs that speak to some people, and some speak to every one of us,” (Anurag Arya). “This is a song that makes us think of escapism and disillusionment with the world: ‘Life on Mars’ by David Bowie. The song is a career-defining one for Bowie, and one of his most-covered songs. Originally appearing on his Hunky Dory album (1971), it isn’t your standard rock ballad by any means. Bowie could have easily made a four-chord hit out of this one, but instead, this song contains about twenty chords, with unusual scale and tempo changes.

… In a song with a duration of about four minutes, David Bowie made us think of life, a sense of purpose versus a tendency to escape the real world, and commercialism with vivid imagery and a beautiful melody. No wonder his genius lives on even after his death: Among the generic and commercial tropes within pop music, David Bowie managed to cut through the clutter and redefine songwriting musically and lyrically.”

After beginning in E major, 0:42 brings us to a transitional pre-chorus with plenty of pivots in tonality. But at 0:58, we land squarely in A major for the chorus. After another unsettled section — this time an instrumental interlude (1:38 – 1:53), another E major verse returns. The pattern continues from there, with the tune ending with a return to A major.

Many thanks to Mark B. for submitting this tune — his fifth contribution to MotD!

The Police | Every Breath You Take

“’I woke up in the middle of the night with that line in my head,’ Sting told the Independent” about “Every Breath You Take” (1983), (Ultimate Classic Rock). “He ‘sat down at the piano and had written it in half an hour. The tune itself is generic, an aggregate of hundreds of others, but the words are interesting. It sounds like a comforting love song. I didn’t realize at the time how sinister it is.’ Sting brought a demo of the song to his bandmates. Tensions were at their height back then, and arguments were commonplace. In keeping, the Police squabbled over the best way to attack ‘Every Breath You Take,’ and reportedly spent six weeks disagreeing on how to move forward. Eventually, everyone added their unique influence. Stewart Copeland’s backbeat propelled things along, while Andy Summers made an infectious contribution.

‘Without that guitar part, there’s no song,’ Summers told Record Collector. ‘ … I actually came up with it in one take, but that’s because Sting’s demo left a lot of space for me to do what I did. There was no way I was just gonna strum barre chords through a song like that.’ … the lead single for Synchronicity, ‘Every Breath You Take’ became a massive hit. The song reached #1 in six different countries, including the U.S., U.K. and Canada. It was the best-selling single of 1983 and won two Grammy awards, including Song of the Year.”

Written in a slightly uptuned G# major overall, the track’s chorus (first heard from 1:22 -1:43) shifts to F# mixolydian before returning to the original key.

Rick Astley | Take Me to Your Heart

“Best known for his global 1987 hit ‘Never Gonna Give You Up,’ Rick Astley is an icon of British pop, his style marked by a rich, deep voice and love of classic soul and R&B,” (Qobuz). “An overnight sensation, Astley topped the U.K. charts with 1987’s Whenever You Need Somebody and again hit the Top Ten with 1988’s, albums that also reached the Top 20 of the Billboard 200 and spawned more hits like ‘Together Forever’ and ‘Whenever You Need Somebody.’

However, looking for more creative autonomy, Astley broke with his production team for 1991’s Free before largely stepping away from the spotlight. He reemerged with 2005’s Portrait and gained widespread viral fame via the “rickrolling” meme, a phenomenon he purportedly found amusing, and which brought a wave of renewed interest in his work, leading to him winning Best Act Ever award at the 2008 MTV Europe Music Awards. In 2016, Astley released 50, an organic, soul-infused production returned to the top of the U.K. Albums Chart. He has continued to enjoy a career renaissance with releases like 2018’s Beautiful Life and 2023’s Are We There Yet?“

1988’s “Take Me to Your Heart” features an instrumental intro in D major, but at 0:17, verse 1 shifts down to C major. The chorus (first heard at 0:49 – 1:05) returns to D major. The keys continue to alternate from there.

The Jam | Absolute Beginners

“The Jam were the most popular band to emerge from the initial wave of British punk rock in 1977; along with the Sex Pistols, the Clash, and the Buzzcocks, the Jam had the highest impact on pop music,” (Qobuz). “While they could barely get noticed in America, the trio became genuine superstars in Britain, with an impressive string of Top Ten singles in the late ’70s and early ’80s. The Jam could never have a hit in America because they were thoroughly and defiantly British … More than any other group, the Jam kept the tradition of the three-minute, hook-driven British guitar pop alive through the ’70s and ’80s, providing a blueprint for generations of bands to come.

Under the direction of guitarist/vocalist/songwriter Paul Weller, the trio spearheaded a revival of mid-’60s mod groups, in the style of the Who and the Small Faces. Like the mod bands, the group dressed stylishly, worshipped American R&B, and played it loud and rough. By the time of the group’s third album, Weller’s songwriting had grown substantially, as he was beginning to write social commentaries and pop songs in the vein of the Kinks … as the Jam grew more popular and musically accessible, Weller became more insistent and stubborn about his beliefs, supporting leftist causes and adhering to the pop aesthetics of ’60s British rock without ever succumbing to hippie values. Paradoxically, that meant even when their music became more pop than punk, they never abandoned the punk values — if anything, Weller stuck to the strident independent ethics of 1977 more than any other punk band just by refusing to change.”

“Absolute Beginners” (1981) begins in D major; at 0:53, the chorus shifts down to B major, but the tune ends decisively in E major. Despite not getting much airplay in the US, the video couldn’t adhere any more closely to the standards of the earliest days of MTV, featuring over-exposed, over-lit footage.

Swing Out Sister | Where the Hell Did I Go Wrong

“Swing Out Sister are a sophisticated pop duo from the U.K. Singer Corinne Drewery and multi-instrumentalist/arranger Andy Connell’s sound ranges from jazz, classic, and modern pop to hooky EDM and synth pop,” (AllMusic). “1987’s It’s Better to Travel hit the top spot on the British album charts. 1989’s cinematic Kaleidoscope World resonated in the U.S., Europe, and Japan.” Many other releases followed, received with varying success around the world.

” … Nottingham-born Corinne Drewery was a fashion designer and model. After moving to London in 1977, she attended Central St. Martin’s with a certain Sade Adu. Drewery had no professional musical experience. She met Connell by chance at the Hacienda Club just after the band had completed their demos and signed with Phonogram. They discovered a shared love for vintage Blue Note and Riverside jazz, the scores of John Barry and Ennio Morricone, the funky Brazilian fusion of Airto Moreira and Flora Purim, the high-class pop of Burt Bacharach and Hal David, the sweeping cinematic soul of Isaac Hayes and David Porter, Motown, Stax/Volt, and singers Dionne Warwick, Nina Simone, and Dusty Springfield. After a brief audition,” Drewery was invited “to be a full member — just in time to release their official first single, ‘Blue Mood,’ late that year … The single didn’t do much, but its follow-up, 1986’s “Breakout,” was a Top Ten hit in Great Britain and Japan.

… The group’s appetite for experimentation was far from sated, however. 2001’s Somewhere Deep in the Night offered a wide range of haunting vocal harmonies set in soaring string arrangements that owed an unapologetic debt to film composers such as Michel LeGrande, Francis Lai, and Pierre Barouh. It offered several instrumental tracks showcasing Connell’s arrangements. Issued in England, Japan, and Europe, its singles, including “Where the Hell Did I Go Wrong” … and the sweeping, hallucinatory title track were far too adventurous to chart.”

Starting in a D major that spends very little time on or even near its tonic chord, “Where the Hell Did I Go Wrong” shifts to Bb major for its chorus at 1:03. At 1:26, the pattern continues, with more shifts in tonality following. Many thanks to Ari S. for this wonderful find — her ninth contribution to MotD!

Laura Mvula | Show Me Love

“Taken from Mvula’s latest release The Dreaming Room, ‘Show Me Love’ is an incantatory, gospel-tinged art-pop hymnal that drifts from moments of deep personal introspection to fissions of out-of-body spiritual awareness,” (Pop Matters). “The climactic eruption of orchestration is startling in its intensity; over it, Mvula repeats the title phrase over and over and over again, trying to stretch it out, to discover its true contents and phonetic subtleties.

… She seems to channel the ethereal qualities of Bjork or Kate Bush. Her voice fits the gorgeous arrangement perfectly, and the lack of a consistent, thumping beat really works to the song’s advantage. Eventually, things build up toward the end, creating something unique and majestic. The vocals and production are constantly intriguing while enhancing the piece’s natural beauty. The mechanized vocals create a beautiful contrast with the lush strings and glorious brass sections near the end.”

Mvula’s career has taken more hold in her native UK than in the US, but she’d certainly be an intriguing addition to the US charts. Co-written by Mvula and Laura Pauline Amanda, “Show Me Love” (2017) starts in F major, but gently shifts to D major at 1:25. The original key returns at 1:50 as the momentum and volume begin to build. The keys continue to alternate throughout.

Nik Kershaw | What the Papers Say

“After releasing two albums in the space of barely six months, Kershaw took his time over the third,” (Moving the River). “He settled in to North London’s Swanyard Studios for most of 1986 to work on the self-produced Radio Musicola (1986), employing the cream of the English session scene (The Kick Horns, Charlie Morgan, Mark Brzezicki, Wix, Andy Richards, Simon Phillips, etc). Yes, Musicola was Kershaw’s chance to take on the Trevor Horns of this world and deliver a big-budget, endlessly-fussed-over studio ‘project’… Perhaps unsurprisingly, given his meteoric rise to fame, the main themes of the album are press intrusion and tabloid sensationalism.

… An interesting album which clearly fell between the stools of art and commerce, Radio Musicola reached a barely believable #46 in the UK album chart, just over a year after Kershaw had played Live Aid. It disappeared without trace in the US … 18 months is a long time to leave between albums when you’re hot, though Kershaw didn’t seem bothered about his new ‘selective’ popularity; in fact, he seemed genuinely relieved, but wondered how MCA were going to sell him now that he was focused on being a musician rather than a pop star.”

“What the Papers Say” begins with an intro in A minor, followed by an unprepared jump to F# minor at 0:15 and a shift to Bb major at 0:30. But as the chorus begins at 0:45, despite the percolating tonality shifts, the return to A minor somehow still (sort of) feels like home. The unsettled pattern continues throughout, all the way to the off-kilter, unresolved ending — entirely appropriate for the tone of Kershaw’s lyrics:

I saw it on the newsstand, it shouted at me!
It said, “We are all good and they are all bad”
Well drive me to the clinic ’cause it’s driving me mad

Edward Elgar | Enigma Variations

“Elgar was born on 2nd June 1857 at Broadheath, a village some three miles from the small city of Worcester in the English West Midlands,” (Elgar.org). “His father had a music shop in Worcester and tuned pianos. The young Elgar, therefore, had the great advantage of growing up in a thoroughly practical musical atmosphere. He studied the music available in his father’s shop and taught himself to play a wide variety of instruments … Elgar was very largely self-taught as a composer – evidence of the strong determination behind his original and unique genius.”

“Premiered in London in 1899 … the Enigma Variations consist of a theme followed by 14 variations … apparently created when, during a spot of pianistic doodling after a long day teaching, Elgar was prompted by his wife Alice to develop a tune which she had enjoyed amidst the tinkling,” (Edinburgh Music Review). “The variations developed into representations in music of various friends and colleagues, some whimsical, some deeply moving, and Elgar hinted at some deeper profundity, and also at another hidden theme, hence the name, ‘The Enigma Variations.’ For me, the mystery is much less interesting than the actual music, which is sublime. 

Variation IX, ‘Nimrod’, is justly famous. The title is a clever allusion to Elgar’s friend and editor, August Jaeger, whose name means ‘hunter’ in German. Nimrod was the ‘Mighty Hunter’ in Genesis, the first book of the bible, and this magnificent slow movement, dedicated to Elgar’s close companion, reveals the depth of their friendship.”

At 14:45, there is a prominent shift from G major to Eb over a hushed section — nearly a complete pause — at the beginning of the “Nimrod” theme.

Leveret | Ricer II

“In the close-knit world of English folk music, Leveret boasts an impressive pedigree,” (NPR). “The trio’s Andy Cutting is renowned for his mastery of the melodeon, a type of accordion with a push-pull mechanism for intonation that imbues it with a wheezy kick. The band’s fiddler is Sam Sweeney, of the flamboyant nu-folk band Bellowhead, and its concertina player is Rob Harbron — both are deft and expressive musicians in their own right. (The concertina is yet another variety of squeezebox, a small hexagonal specimen with a pure, invigorating honk.) Within its respective milieu, Leveret might be considered a supergroup were the term not anathema to the band’s entire ethos: introspective, understated, minimalist.

… Leveret’s members have stated on multiple occasions that their music is not so much arranged as felt, operating without predetermined parts — a jam session. So profound is the trio’s communion that its players seem telepathic, charting a rippling musical terrain visible only to each other. Leveret’s (2017) effort features exclusively original material and is aptly titled Inventions. In an album overflowing with lovely melodies, ‘Ricer II’ is the most baldly euphoric. (The tune was composed by Cutting, who named it after a potato ricer, presumably one that brought him especially great joy.) The happy-go-lucky number skips along in accelerated triple-time; about halfway through, it even goes so far as to change keys, modulating triumphantly with the gusto of a Broadway finale. ‘Ricer II’ is neither difficult nor complex, just two short parts that circle round and round like a kitten chasing its tail.” The two keys in question are C major and (after 1:04) D major.