Musically Crippled and Tongue-Tied

Following the acknowledgement that I hadn’t written on this blog for quite some time, I was faced with the dilemma of where to place the blame for this act of negligence. Was I bored of writing? No. Were my days totally full to the brim with more important, unavoidable tasks? Certainly not. Had my growing cereal addition finally got the better of me? Not yet. As this pointless stream of consciousness continued, the conundrum of my lost words playing heavily on my mind, I suddenly became all too aware of the answer as it filled the air around me.

From out of my speakers, the familiar sound of The Smiths.

Morrissey has quite literally, ruined me. Having long been aware of The Smiths and the hype that surrounds them, for years I had never really been bothered enough to give them a listen, sticking it on my musical ‘to-do’ list, along with getting into Janis Joplin and  listening to the Pink Floyd albums that no one talks of. Perhaps it was through intuition that I knew it would be dangerous for me and so avoided them for so long, in the same way that some people choose never to smoke crack, i.e.with good reason. But all I can say is thank god I did put it off until the age of 23. If Morrissey had worked his wicked magic on me at the age of say, 16, my life would probably be considerably worse and less enriched right now. I would have had seven less years of musical enjoyment; I would’ve never gone to gigs, made friends, read books or eaten Indian food.

What I’m trying to say is; since properly getting turned on to The Smiths about six months ago, my interest in any other artists has all but diminished, along with the desire to write about music. What more is there to say?! The Smiths are music. Why even bother making more music? We’ve got all we need. We can just listen to that now. What’s the point?!

Of course I’m exaggerating (kind of), but once you realise how incredible The Smiths and Morrissey are, it’s really impossible to imagine how you could ever feel the same about any other band ever again, or even get real enjoyment from other music. Now, I am all too aware of my very strong tendency to slip into intense periods of irrational and unhealthy fanaticism about musicians or bands, but this is different. I knew things were getting serious when I found myself apologising to friends for my repetitive music choices, and often favouring silence if I couldn’t listen to The Smiths, or even silence in preference to lying to myself that I would make another music choice when it was obviously an impossibility. Managing to ween myself off temporarily with Morrissey’s solo efforts - an act as effective as giving methadone to a heroin addict - I was soon back on the hard stuff. Even my inexpressive musical equipment was beginning to look jaded at their thankless task of playing the same six albums over and over again. My faceless ipod looking me in the eyes as if to say MUST WE LISTEN TO STRANGEWAYS ONE MORE TIME?!! WHAT ABOUT THE BEATLES?! YOU USED TO LIKE THEM

At the epicentre of this unhealthy obsession, we find Morrissey. A man for whom my love grows greater each and every day. Sporting a quiff, hearing aid and NHS glasses, he's a man who defies all the norms of what is required of a ‘cool’ frontman;  yet these signifiers of the 'anti-cool' are pulled off so impeccably, that he consequently became a style icon like no other. His obsession with the kitchen-sink reality of England, cult film stars and figures from sixties British popular culture influenced much of the visual imagery associated with the band, and made Morrissey an even greater antithesis of the typical frontman.

Amongst the many reasons why he is so worthy of such adoration, is the simple fact that no one else has ever spun lyrics which even vaguely compare to the lines of Morrissey’s crafting.

And the people who are weaker than you or I,

They take what they want from life.

His subject matter, phrasing, depth of suggestion and ability to capture a feeling, thought or emotion effortlessly is unprecedented, and the perfectly balanced dance between wit and darkness is his alone. Not only that, but to have successfully remained an enigma and subject of such intrigue after thirty years in the public eye is an amazing, rare achievement. His decision to give nothing away has made him the most intriguing character; using his time with the press not to hand out every little detail of his life like cheap flyers - as so many do - but to discuss animal rights, condemn the monarchy, highlight the idiocy and irrelevance of politicians, and other such incredibly important things which need to be said by someone in the public eye. Naturally such assertions have also ensured that he's accrued his fair share of haters, but then all the best people are those that piss others off for one reason or another.

No wonder people from every demographic can be found hurling themselves at Morrissey during any live performance, for it does feel like he understands. For every possible occurrence that could happen in life, Morrissey has already written the soundtrack and the lyric that will not only sum up exactly how you feel, but make you feel incredibly grateful to have felt that way; be it good or bad.

If you have never experienced The Smiths fixation, then you would be justified in your confusion over the negative, almost resentful way that I have described it here. But while it can be crippling, intense and socially awkward, it is also wonderful; and comfort can be found in knowing that at the age of 23, I have probably found the best band I will ever hear - and that's okay - because their music is now mine to enjoy, forever.

Here is Panic.

Listen at your peril.

80s Cool

Pronunciation: /eɪtis kuːl/

Adjective

In reference to something fashionably attractive or impressive within the decade beginning 1^st January 1980 and ending 31^st December 1989 inclusively, or that which exists in a different time but bares many of the same attributes. Commonly judged with a lower expectation of ‘cool’ than that which appears in other decades, however definitely brilliant in its own way.

i.e.           Wow, doesn’t Boy George look so cool in that long t-shirt and waistcoat combo?

I speak about 80s cool in this manner, because it certainly is a thing. Its own thing. A brilliant thing, but a very different thing to the central idea of cool that one draws upon when discussing say, Grace Slick, Nico, Jim Morrison or Brett Anderson. Primarily because they exist outside of the realms of that magical anomaly of a decade.

The brilliant thing about 80s cool is that it had the ability to absorb and overcome even those incredibly cool characters that strutted confidently out of the 70s, calm and unsuspecting of the reinvention that this decade would involuntarily be causing them. I call upon David Bowie as exhibit a) in this argument.

Perhaps the coolest man to ever walk the planet, a pioneer. A man who, by 1979, had securely held the world in his hands for over seven years… whatever he wore, however he cut his hair, whichever style he chose to adopt into his music, the rest would eagerly follow. Sure, it is worth acknowledging that in holding out until 1983, Bowie did stay strong for longer than most, but once the 80s cool had penetrated his Godlike mind, there was simply no turning back.

1983’s Let’s Dance album is great. The title track is incredible, and there are no words to describe how brilliant and fresh it sounds when one has the rare pleasure of hearing it on a night out. However, what makes the album so brilliant as an example of 80s cool is that from the very opening chords of the first track; Modern Love one can initially tell that we are a world (and a decade) away from the effortlessly cool albums such as Station to Station or Low. The Serious Moonlight tour which followed in a whirlwind of inflatable globes and egos, Blues Brothers-esque dancers, confetti and dry ice served as further evidence in the trial of Bowie’s subjection to this powerful disease, and while he certainly was not alone; the effects for the King of Cool were devastating. By 1988 after two disappointing albums and typically 80s style stadium tours, he decided it was a good idea to front a hard rock band called Tin Machine who need no further explanation than what can be deducted from this photograph;

Fortunately for Bowie, once enough time had passed for the 80s to become a shadowy memory, he was once again restored to his pedestal and those who love him dearly began to aggressively repress the knowledge and memories which stem from this dark period.

Meanwhile, the curse affected others in different ways. While some, like Bowie, had already proved themselves and were thus able to easily shake off the virus by the mid-1990s, others owed their entire career and success to riding this wave, and are subsequently doomed to be associated with this phenomenon for as long as the human race survives. Rick Astley, Phil Collins, Adam Ant, Ultravox, Spandau Ballet, Nik Kershaw, Dire Straits, Simple Minds, Duran Duran, Sade, Huey Lewis and The News, Culture Club. I’m looking at you.

It is no coincidence that the majority of the aforementioned crusaders of 80s cool performed at the Live Aid concerts on 13^th July 1985, as this happened in the midst of the decade and as a result, documents all of our favourite 80s cool offenders at the absolute peak of their crimes. A sea of mullets, hoards of backstage cocaine, synthesisers everywhere you look, shoulder pads, back combed hair, bright make-up and a generous helping of Princess Diana – this was 80s excess at its best. With his bid to raise money for Ethiopian famine, Bob Geldof not only managed to raise £150 million, but he also facilitated the most accurate and detailed documentary proof of the 80s cool epidemic that was sweeping mercilessly across western culture.

In reeling off a list of those characters who I consider innately woven into the fabric of the 80s cool phenomenon, I in no way mean to imply that this is necessarily a bad thing. For example; Duran Duran, Dire Straits and Spandau Ballet are all brilliant and still heavily featured and loved over twenty years since the end of the decade to which they owe so much. I say owe, because while these three bands in particular are amazing, they are undeniably a product of their time, and would have certainly never reached the dizzying heights that they did were it not for the 80s backdrop – a time when the parameters of what is considered cool were very much off kilter.

By the very nature of this decade, even arguably the coolest band of the time were by all other standards, pretty uncool. Their frontman - a tee-total, celibate, vegetarian – hardly evokes images of a tortured soul of rock n’ roll excess, which had previously provided the blueprint for what is deemed cool within the music industry. How typical of this decade that it’s coolest musical output should be so far removed from what every other generation has considered the height of cool. The genius of The Smith’s music however, is certainly not capped by the potential of its inhabited decade, as it still stands as incredible and defiant over much of the music made before or since. Not only that, but in causing people to completely rethink the guitar as an instrument for understated yet beautiful expression, Johnny Marr successfully paved the way for the Britpop explosion of 1990s (an entire movement dedicated to cool Britannia) and provided the guidelines for what we now know as indie music.

The Smiths ability to stand out from the rest of the 80s offerings as something other was no coincidence. Their deviation away from pomp and excess, both in terms of music, behaviour and image, was all part of Morrissey’s plan from the get-go. The name The Smiths was intentionally as far removed from the likes of Orchestral Manoeuvres In The Dark or Spandau Ballet as conceivably possible, both of which the frontman considered insanely pretentious. Meanwhile, the plain clothes and signature quiff haircut offered a stark visual contrast to the extravagant high-fashion of the new romantics that they so desperately wanted to distance themselves from.

While 80s nostalgia lives on and fond glances are cast back to a time when bright colours and excess became the new beige, one cannot help but be thankful that decades and the trends which define them are confined to the obligatory ten years. Eventually we found ourselves out the other side, riding the wave of The Stone Roses’ 1989 release into an era where the style/substance balance would be re-established and affordable pills and stripped-down music brought satisfaction to youth culture in a way that high-priced cocaine and shoulder pads never could.

The 80s provided lots of great music; that is undeniable. I would hate not to mention The Cure, or indeed to overlook the entire fascinating movement of dark synth and gothic to which we owe so much wonderful music. The very nature of the outlandish decade meant that extremes never seemed that extreme, and the ability to shock with appearance was greatly reduced. The Cure are yet another band that greatly owe the success of their image to the time in which they lived; for in what other decade would a chubby goth in big white trainers be placed at the height of cool? A justified question, yet in it’s very asking, serves to demonstrate exactly what made the 80s such a fantastic decade.

Cover Songs : Walking The Tightrope

A song is anything that can walk by itself – Bob Dylan

In order to create a good song, a song that connects with others and somehow manages to tap into the common consciousness of a moment and become worthy of adoption by the populace as a theme tune to their lives, it is usually necessary for the songwriter to give a little of their soul to the cause. In writing a song, the writer is offering the chance for others to have a small window into their innermost core, they are laying themselves bare for scrutiny, for rejection, and making a gamble as to whether others can tap into whatever emotion they have chosen to make public.

As a result of all these factors and emotional investments, the act of covering someone else’s song is therefore something that should not be taken lightly, and goes a little way to explaining why cover versions can often sound cheap and lifeless. It is one thing for an artist or band to take a song and inject their own twist on the emotions and words originally presented, bringing to the table a whole new wealth of experience and delivering the piece and it’s history to a whole new genre and audience, but when we see (as we so often do), songs which are covered purely for financial gain and an easy ‘hit’, it is somewhat disheartening to see someone’s personal efforts cheapened and churned out like a soulless business transaction. You can almost picture the sterile business meeting that has occurred among the big-wigs of the record label, propositioning a new talentless artist with a masterpiece of yesteryear with little or no regard for the piece of art as personal property, no consideration for the life events, emotions or people who played a part in the original inspiration of the song. No thought for the moment in time where those words and ideas were first scratched upon paper and set free like a caged bird to find their own way in the world.

Putting a song out there for public consumption must be a great yet terrifying act of faith, and in doing so one must hope that their brainchild is treated with respect. It is a shame therefore, that often the songwriter loses all ownership of their work and it is often down to the people in suits to decide where, and being sung from whose mouths, these fragments of themselves will end up.

With these thoughts in mind, I have been compiling a list of cover versions which I believe do the original songs (and their writers) justice, and others for which the motives and the finished piece sound more as though they have taken a piece of genius and aggressively stamped all over it, reducing it to a mere one-dimensional version of it’s original self. However, that is not to say that a cover version does not have the potential to completely outshine the original and provide it with something that it was previously lacking, as though the second set of hands it falls into are able to have a strange insight into what the original required in order to take it to a whole new level. On these occasions, it is as though a number of factors have been brought into perfect alignment, serving to demonstrate a global level of understanding between human beings; that people from different eras and backgrounds can somehow work together to make something incredible.

Below I give mention to six songs; three of them being brilliant covers, and three not so great. In compiling this collection I was pleasantly surprised to note that I found it much easier to think of the positive examples (possibly due to the choice to ignore anything related to the X Factor as they are too big an offender to even begin discussing, or because one probably represses the memory of hearing a song they know and love being absolutely disrespected). Also, it is worth mentioning that while Bob Dylan’s work does not appear in this list, his incredible song writing has ensured for a number of brilliant (and not so) covers over the last forty years, however it is simply that there is not one song in particular that I could decide upon to discuss below.

Three brilliant cover versions;

Placebo – Running Up That Hill (Kate Bush)

As one notes when observing a great songwriter like Kate Bush, the potential for a brilliant cover version is already heightened due to the quality and malleability of the original piece. Placebo’s version of Running Up That Hill is incredible, adding a whole new dark and brooding twist to the song, with Brian Molko’s delivery of the line ‘make a deal with God’ sounding more like he is making a pact with the devil. The thunderous electrical take on the piano and drums ensure this cover sounds a lot more downbeat than the original, a lot more pained, as though a fresh input of suffering is being filtered through each and every note in the struggle to understand the person that the protagonist has fallen in love with, but the fact that they are of a different gender makes this empathy so difficult.

The White Stripes – Jolene (Dolly Parton)

It is always great when a cover version completely surpasses its original genre, as this is the most likely way for a song to reach an entirely new audience. The White Stripes are quite the masters at the art of brilliant cover versions, partly due to the respect with which they treat the original, and because of Jack White’s desire to nod to various influences in a respectful manner. It is always amazing when a cover manages to bring light and excitement to a song which perhaps, would have otherwise gone unappreciated by many people due to the nature and genre of the original. What The White Stripes have achieved here, is getting a new generation of music lovers singing a country song from 1974 at the top of their lungs, indulging in the heartfelt pain of a wife singing to her husband’s mistress not to steal him from her.

Johnny Cash – Hurt (Nine Inch Nails)

Johnny Cash’s take on the 1995 song by Nine Inch Nails has got to be one of the finest examples of how songs have the potential to be approached from an entirely different angle, thus giving the words and sentiments entirely new perspective and meaning. For example, hearing the words “I hurt myself today, to see if I still feel”, sung by a thirty year old has an incredibly different effect than by a man of seventy one with severe health problems and – in hindsight – only several months to live. The power and emotion behind Johnny Cash’s performance in this song is so potent it can reduce you to tears; the fact that he wasn’t the one to actually write the words seems entirely irrelevant, for what he brings to the table is so much more. The great genius of this song also lies in the fact it was somewhat unknown in its original state, particularly in the UK, and Johnny Cash has taken what was otherwise a far from outstanding song and made it into four minutes of utter magic, and an ode to the vulnerability and mortality of human existence.

(During the research for this piece I also discovered that Leona Lewis recorded a cover of this song in a vain attempt at Christmas number one last year. While I hope I never hear it, this goes to demonstrate the thoughtlessness and lack of respect that can so often exist when it comes to selecting a song to cover. What on earth could a twenty-six year old who’s been handed the world on a plate ever bring to this song?)

Three questionable cover versions;

Mark Ronson ft. Daniel Merriweather – Stop Me If You Think You’ve Heard This One Before (The Smiths)

An incredibly insulting cover, particularly when one considers that Daniel Merriweather is on record as saying he was entirely unfamiliar with the original song and that he was ‘never a Smiths fan’; so why does he feel he has the right to ruin it for everyone else? A prime example of a song which has been covered, and in the act of doing so, any emotion or weight that the original carried has been duly compressed into a flat piece of ‘sound’ for consumption by the iTunes generation. The concept of bringing disco vibes to a song by The Smiths should surely have been shot down at the first hurdle (and as I have mentioned before, a change of genre is brilliant when covering…if it works, which this explicitly does not). One must surely hope that if Morrissey had been given any say in the matter, he would have prevented it from happening and released a tirade of insults on Mark Ronson and his one-man quest to cover every song ever written (on the subject of which, what was Valerie all about? It wasn’t even a good song in the first place).

David Bowie – Across The Universe (The Beatles)

Perhaps an odd choice, but I chose this example because it demonstrates how, even when a number of great things come together on paper and it looks as though something good could come of it, the reality is often very different. Now you could argue that the fault here lies in an attempt of covering a song by The Beatles (which is obviously never a good idea), however as a huge fan of both them and David Bowie, upon first sitting down to listen to this song I was guilty of anticipating something wonderful - particularly when one considers John Lennon is actually featured on Bowie’s version, and it was done entirely with his blessing. However, what ensues is actually an absolute atrocity, and I warn you now; never listen to this version. Much to my dismay, it not only provides an incredibly unpleasant listening experience, but it has also ruined the original for me. The effects are that far-reaching. It’s hard to put one’s finger on exactly what is so offensive about this song, but what it does demonstrate is that the volatile nature of covering another man’s art means that some kind of unfathomable alignment needs to occur for it to pay off, and even when every other factor is seemingly in place, success is far from guaranteed.

Ed Sheeran – Skinny Love (Bon Iver)

Now, without this blog turning into a hate campaign against Ed Sheeran, I simply had to include this example as it best represents the crime of covering another’s song but leaving absolutely no trace or stamp of personality on it, thus rendering the whole experience utterly pointless. Therefore, what Ed Sheeran has chosen to do with his cover, is inflict a lot of unpleasantness on others for no real purpose. Bon Iver’s original from 2007 is a truly magical song, and it is incredibly insulting to hear Ed Sheeran dilute it to a level of disposable trash, with the usual jerky guitar and croaky voice that we have heard a million times from his like before.

One of the cover songs’ most wonderful qualities is also its downfall. While, when done correctly, a cover version could inspire the listener to hunt down the original and thus open the possibility of discovering a new band, artist or album that they would have otherwise been unaware of, they also have the ability to lead people to believe the version they hear is the only one in existence. Imagine a whole new generation being brought up to think that Hallelujah is a song by Alexandra Burke. I just hope that any one with a vague amount of interest in music will have done their homework and learnt that such things are simply untrue.

To return to the Bob Dylan quote at the beginning of this entry; “a song is anything that can walk by itself”, this illustrates that a good song has the power to head out into the world and carve it’s own journey, have it’s own experiences and take on a life of it’s own apart from that of the original creator. I believe that good songs are not written, but they are given as a gift to the songwriter, that the person in question was at the right place at the right time and were subsequently able to channel something from the universe in order to convert an emotion or experience into musical format. While this maybe an incredibly romanticised way to view the whole thing, it does mean that anyone who chooses to cover a song should not take the decision lightly for it is a huge responsibility, and to abuse the song’s trust is simply criminal.

Here is Johnny Cash with Hurt: 

Unemployment : A Few Words From The Wise.

Call up the craftsmen

Bring me the draughtsmen

Build me a path from cradle to grave

And I'll give my consent

To any government

That does not deny a man a living wage – Billy Bragg

Having spent the past few months unemployed and subsequently going through a myriad of emotions on the subject; first thinking that I would only take a job that I wanted and suited my own interests, followed by a rapid descent into the depths of ‘I will take any job going’ territory, facilitated by crawling around various agencies and applying for call centres, I then rediscovered my soul (with a little help from the misguided benefit system) and proudly proclaimed: “why should I take a job that I don’t want to do?” Especially when in many cases, you would be worse off if you took a job…and you’d have forty hours less a week in which to do things that you actually want to do. Madness surely, and a fair reflection of the state of society that we live in today. Instead, I’ve reached the conclusion that until I find a job which takes me in exactly the direction I want to be heading in, I will be much better off using this time to fulfill creative ambitions, volunteering and acquiring experience which will ultimately lead me to my career of choice. I opt for this instead of spending my days assisting, and therefore condoning, a pointless system of administration upon which we are all unfortunately forced to rely, by taking any stupid office administration job pushed in my direction.

In times of trouble or unease, music usually has a way of coming through for me - reaffirming my beliefs and assuring me gently that millions of people have felt this way at some point…hell, they’ve even screamed it at the top of their lungs in stadiums. While I can see a fair point in the argument that musicians ‘use’ the working-man’s gripes in their music in order to maintain a grasp on their fan base’s reality – while in the meantime they are chauffeured around in Rolls Royce’s and drinking only the finest champagne in penthouse suites - there is no element of fakery involved when singing along to The Smiths ‘Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now’ on a grey November morning on your way to the office. As such, I have acquired a list of songs which I think sum up a great deal on the subject, and have discussed them in short below;

Oasis – Cigarettes and Alcohol

Is it worth the aggravation 
To find yourself a job when there's nothing worth working for? 
It's a crazy situation 
But all I need are cigarettes and alcohol

This song highlights the appeal and subsequent dependency on cigarettes, alcohol and drugs as a remedy to the futile nature of working class life. While many people could not be blamed for finding vices in such things, it is particularly insulting when we witness constant rises on alcohol and tobacco taxes as the government steadily ensures that the working man can no longer afford the few items that get him through the mundane activities of day-to-day life. Tapping into the common sentiment of western disenchantment, it’s no wonder that it has re-appeared several times in the charts since its first release in 1994.

The Smiths – Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now

I was looking for a job, and then I found a job 
And heaven knows I'm miserable now 
In my life 
Why do I give valuable time 
To people who don't care if I live or die?

Taken from the 1984 compilation album ‘Hatful of Hollow’, this is perhaps the most explicitly simple statement of how I feel right at this moment. Why are we forced to donate the most valuable asset that we have - our time – to a faceless corporation or activity in which we hold no belief and derive no pleasure? What The Smiths have done so brilliantly here is demonstrate how we find ourselves in such a position without real choice or thought, as this is the path we are all forced to go down whether we like it or not.

John Lennon – Working Class Hero

When they've tortured and scared you for twenty odd years, 
Then they expect you to pick a career, 
When you can't really function you're so full of fear, 
A working class hero is something to be, 
A working class hero is something to be. 

Keep you doped with religion and sex and TV, 
And you think you're so clever and classless and free, 
But you're still fucking peasants as far as I can see, 
A working class hero is something to be, 
A working class hero is something to be. 

This song is a take on the class split of the 1940s and 1950s, and of the 1960s in which John Lennon was famous. The song appears to tell the story of someone growing up in the working class. According to Lennon in an interview with Rolling Stone magazine in December 1970, it is about working class individuals being processed into the middle classes, into the machine. Another demonstration of the inevitability that many people face thanks to the systems in place to keep the working class unquestioning of their fate, this song faced much controversy upon its release – most probably for fear of raising awareness of exactly such issues.

 (Exerts from : en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Working_Class_Hero)

Pink Floyd - Money

Money, get away
Get a good job with more pay and you're okay
Money, it's a gas

Money, it's a crime
Share it fairly but don't take a slice of my pie
Money so they say
Is the root of all evil today
But if you ask for a raise it's no surprise that they're giving none away

Focusing more on the financial side of things, ‘Money’ from Pink Floyd’s ‘Dark Side of the Moon’ brilliantly illustrates why millions of people find themselves heading off to jobs they hate every morning of the week – because we are repeatedly being told, from an increasingly young age, that everything is all about money. That is apparently enough justification to hate our lives, to waste our precious time, to start wars and to repeatedly screw over our fellow human beings. Money, it’s a gas.

Bob Dylan – Maggie’s Farm

I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more
No, I aint gonna work on Maggie's farm no more
Well, I wake up in the morning
Fold my hands and pray for rain
I got a head full of ideas
That are drivin' me insane
It's a shame the way she makes me scrub the floor
I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more

Well, he hands you a nickel

He hands you a dime

He asks you with a grin if you're havin' a good time

Then he fines you every time you slam the door

Within ‘Maggie’s Farm’, we see Dylan singing for the youth of his time, urging them to reject society and question what is happening around them, as opposed to quietly accepting an unfair fate and as a result; pushing any ideas and hopes that you had to one side.  The "farm" that Dylan sings of could easily represent racism, state oppression and capitalist exploitation, and has subsequently been used and covered on numerous occasions since its release in 1965 as a symbol of protest.

The Beatles – Taxman

Let me tell you how it will be; 
There's one for you, nineteen for me. 
'Cause I’m the taxman, 
Yeah, I’m the taxman. 

Should five per cent appear too small, 
Be thankful I don't take it all. 
'Cause I’m the taxman, 
Yeah, I’m the taxman. 

Now my advice for those who die, (taxman) 
Declare the pennies on your eyes. (taxman) 
'Cause I’m the taxman, 
Yeah, I’m the taxman. 

And you're working for no one but me. 

Taxman! 

‘Taxman’ is a song written by George Harrison released as the opening track on The Beatles 1966 album ‘Revolver’. Its lyrics attack the high levels of progressive tax taken by the British Labour government of Harold Wilson. Harrison said, “‘Taxman' was when I first realised that even though we had started earning money, we were actually giving most of it away in taxes. It was and still is typical." The Beatles' large earnings placed them in the top tax bracket in the United Kingdom, liable to a 95% supertax introduced by Harold Wilson's Labour government, so while they were wealthier than most, they certainly knew a thing or two about the unfairness of the tax system.

(Exerts from : en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Taxman)

The Enemy – Away From Here

I'm so sick sick sick and tired
Of working just to be retired
I don't want to get that far
I don't want your company car
Promotions ain't my thing
Name badges are not interesting

Reverend and The Makers – Heavyweight Champion of the World

It might be boring so boring

It might put you to sleep
The same old routine repeats week after week
And you work harder, work harder
Cos you’re told that you must
And you must earn a living
And you must earn a crust…like everybody else
Just be like everybody else

Here, with these songs by The Enemy and Reverend and The Makers, we find two more recent examples of how disillusionment with the working system is still as prevalent as ever. In these cases, the most apparent themes seems to be of boredom with the repetitive routines, and fighting out against what is expected of us, despite whether this bares any relevance to what we actually want to get out of our lives – lives which we only have the pleasure of living once. For as long as society keeps such outrageous systems and restrictions in place, more songs on the subject will continue to be written, and we can continue to enjoy them in the understanding that there is hope and a shared desire for a time when this will no longer be the case.

Right, back to the jobhunt…