It probably didn’t actually enter my life until it charted in the UK during the summer of 1999, a Top Five hit off the back of a beer commercial that played endlessly during ad breaks in South Park. But ‘Drinking in L.A.’ reminds me of a time when I was getting a little bit more freedom in my life – freedom to stay up late, freedom to travel further afield with friends. It’s the sound of newfound responsibility and sunny days to make the most of it.
Bran Van 3000 became my sunny day wake-up call. What song plays in my head when I pull those curtains wide and see a beautiful, sunny day outside, full of possibilities? No, not fucking Elbow.
I think it’s just because of the spoken parts at the start where the friend says ‘it’s a beautiful day’. It made me want to give my friends a ring-ding-ding and see what the plan was.
***
According to its main man, co-founder James Di Salvio, ‘Drinking in L.A.’ was a last-minute composition, based on his time as a filmmaker in said Californian entertainment mecca. Hazy Hollywood memories and self-admonishment combine to great lyrical effect, as the narrator stumbles through a story of trying to get himself together to finish a film, distracted by drink. The rap/spoken style reminds me a little of Beck, swimming in a sea of Hollywood hotshot movie references, while the choruses are all brassy delivery courtesy of Stéphane Moraille.
The music was unique to me at the time, too – it’s a sort of lounge hip-hop with the odd bit of strangled guitar at the start, and a twinkly piano ending. It’s all a bit cobbled together really, much like the rest of the album on which it lived.
(And I’m very fond of the video – one of my first-found teenage freedoms was staying up late and watching it on a somewhat regular basis on one of the music channels. ‘I watched it loads on MTV at 2am’ is the foundational memory of many of my favourite musical acts for the next few years, actually. Sure, they might have played on MTV, but sleep deprivation can take the rough edges off anything.)
A few months on, maybe a year or two, I found ‘Glee’ living in the bargain bin at the record shop, and immediately seized upon it. I’d missed out on owning a copy of the single originally, and the entire album cost barely a couple of quid more than the CD will have done at the original time of asking. It’s more of that cobbled together feeling, sampled beats and old commercial jingles, followed by more low-key spoken word and a couple of acoustic tracks too. One of the latter is a cover of ‘Cum On Feel the Noize’ which is way more tolerable than the Slade original, to me at least.
There are a few other scraps, bits and bobs on the album which you might imagine are little more than filler on first listen. But I see it more as the group collecting these bits and pieces and presenting them as part of the overall listening experience. You didn’t necessarily get an ‘album’ of songs when you listened to groups like Bran Van, or artists like DJ Shadow who thrive on creating atmospheres, and having their music as build-up and backdrop to more general mood. I think it’s been done more effectively elsewhere than on ‘Glee’ – but as the first place I’d ever heard this kind of construction, I liked what the group was going for. The more laid-back feel of the song and album would be another valuable ingredient in the recipe of my forming taste in music.
It strikes me as I’m writing this, learning about my tastes growing up. Considering I’m only going for one or two songs per year on this playlist, and mostly songs I’d picked up well after release – what was I actually listening to during these actual years? Probably not a lot; I didn’t have a music collection to speak of as I didn’t start buying my own music until around this time. Was I really content listening to my dad’s Beautiful South tapes and ‘Graceland’ on repeat? I think I need to dig into this some — for some reason I’m feeling a bit reluctant to do so.