When I was a wee boy, I emerged from the Oasis camp into the finer points of British music like Blur and delved into the technological brilliance of Radiohead’s OK Computer. Before long, it was further experimentation along the lines of Godspeed You! Black Emperor or the progressive nature of Dave Matthews Band. In my mind, I had worked out what music was, and how it should be made and evangelized. Technical prowess, musical integrity and being forward thinking were all that mattered.
Then, one day for reasons unknown, perhaps drawn by the album title, Echo Park, I sampled this seminal Feeder album at my local HMV. I probably thought it had something to do with a reference to a science fiction theme or something. Whatever it was, it sounded sonically geeky enough. But when I put those headphones on, what greeted me was a wave of power-pop, melodies that sounded familiar and yet, I had never heard anything quite like it. The best thing was, each song was over in less than four minutes, and yet, they each brought me to the same high points as all my other heroes.
I always credit Feeder for saving me, musically speaking. The lessons I learned about melody, that would of course homage my love for Fleetwood Mac and inspire me to play basslines that were simple and catchy, were all because a humble Welsh band with humble melodies saved me from a swirling vortex of convoluted musical elitism.
My all time favorite Feeder song, “Just A Day”, will bear testament to this particular life changing event … and even when I listen to it today, it stands as my anthem to an unwritten future, raising our hands and throwing caution to the wind. “All by myself, wakin’ up at twelve in my clothes again, because I don’t wanna drag you down, hold you down, because you’re a friend.” – brian
mp3: feeder – just a day