And As We Sit Here Alone

“Since Yesterday,” Strawberry Switchblade

It is rumored that when Jill Bryson and Rose McDowall formed as a duo, they called themselves Strawberry Switchblade after a song that their friend, James Kirk of Orange Juice, may have written.  This ambiguity feeds nicely into the flourishing mythos of rock music—details aren’t often exciting, but they can be when they’re not quite true.  Either way, Strawberry Switchblade is a killer name, and such a great identity for a girl group.

“Since Yesterday” was included on 1985’s Strawberry Switchblade, the only album the group ever released.  The single charted well in the UK, but was really the only big hit for the duo.  The song starts off with heavy horns (a Sibelius sample), but quickly settles into a new wave groove with a prominent band machine playing along to Bryson and McDowall’s very young-sounding voices.

Despite the generally upbeat accompaniment, there is something off-kilter about the melodic lines.  The lyrics tell of an almost static existence; yesterday is depicted with tempered fondness, but today is flat: “And as we sit here alone | Looking for a reason to go on | It’s so clear that all we have now | Are our thoughts of yesterday.”  Nothing really happens in the course of the track; it is a tribute to the mundane.  Stagnancy is the rule, but the lyrics do not explore this as a burden.  Rather, being stuck in this state is not something to rail against, for it provides the impetus to write a pop song about relishing those moments, because, “When tomorrow comes you’ll wish | You had today.”

A couple of days ago, my sister told me to turn on BBC Radio 6 because Jim Reid, front man for The Jesus and Mary Chain, was hosting 6 Music Playlist.  The programme is a forum for artists to share the music they enjoy and find inspiring.  One of Reid’s picks came from a fellow Glaswegian band of the early 1980s, Strawberry Switchblade.  Recalling how he used to teasingly be referred to as a “Strawberry Switchblade groupie” because he was such an avid fan, Reid proudly declared that, even after all these years, “I love their music.”  Me too.

Question: “Since Yesterday” feels a bit like a daydream—a pleasant departure from the present.  What other songs do you think capture the fleeting quality of day-to-day life?

Listen to the Girl as She Takes on Half the World

For the launch of Song and Why, a special double-post:


“Be My Baby,” The Ronettes

“Just Like Honey,” The Jesus And Mary Chain

Although the Ronettes were a trio, producer Phil Spector chose front girl, Ronnie Bennett, to sing both lead and backing vocals on the group’s biggest hit, 1963’s “Be My Baby.”  This made for a brilliant record that is, at times, almost arrestingly full.  When it seems as though there couldn’t be room for more sound, yet another instrument is introduced.  For once, too much is just enough, and the sonic overload does not overwhelm the lovingly simple wordplay—it attends to it beautifully.  One of the most precious aspects of “Be My Baby” is the innocence of love’s first blush that blooms through, something that was playing out during recording sessions in the studio as much as it was when the song was on the turntable at countless dances in local high schools.  Did I mention that Ronnie Bennett became Ronnie Spector?

Take that unforgettable “Be My Baby” beat, add a healthy dose of feedback, and it could become a mess, but with the guidance of the Jesus and Mary Chain, it is a rebirth.  From the opening thuds of (Primal Scream leader) Bobby Gillespie’s drum, everything old is new.  William Reid’s guitar fuzzes over the familiar rhythm, joined by his brother, Jim’s, wistful serenade.  “Just Like Honey” is from the Mary Chain’s must-own debut album, Psychocandy, released in 1985 when the band’s initial shows were legendary three-song sets that collapsed into violence—none of which is present on this pensive track.  Instead, the Jesus and Mary Chain are much wearier and wiser, acquiescing to “listen to the girl as she takes on half the world.”  For, achingly, Jim Reid confesses, “walking back to you is the hardest thing that I can do.”

Both songs are about love that is just beyond one’s reach.  However, in a very important way, “Be My Baby” is subversive and sly—this is bad-girl music that sounds like something far more pretty and sweet—whereas “Just Like Honey” deals with the same subject matter with even greater ambivalence and lyrical economy. “Be My Baby” begins conventionally regarding the man’s role: if the girl were able to land her new boy, she’d make him “so proud of me.”  As the Wall of Sound plows on, this woman’s entreaties grow, becoming more and more insistent; they, like the castanets that punctuate them, will not be ignored: “Be my baby now!”  In contrast, “Just Like Honey” features a guy who knows his music and is pining for a chick who is a real tall order.  The tune ends at a dreamy impasse, drifting into a world where there is only a guitar-drenched shimmer of hope for love fulfilled.