I know you've all been on the edges of your pant-seats*, waiting for a new Meat Pig song. The wait is over and the song is here. Near. Dear. Beer. Mmm, beer. You can listen to it online or you can keep it for your very own by downloading this mp3.
A few weeks ago my brother and musical co-adventurer, El Cucurucho, expressed an interest in making a disco song. It seemed like everything we had done up to that point was clearly pointing to the genre. I remember feeling surprised that we had not already sunk our canines into some disco flesh while a relentless strobe light made our feral blood sport appear artistic.
In preparation for the song, I listened to Diana Ross's Love Hangover repeatedly over weeks. This is a song that took a fine lady of soul and transported her into the majestic disco matriarch that we all remember her being. We followed the basic vibe of this song; slow to fast with an excited squeal at the transition. The Wooo, in my opinion, is an important aspect in a transition of any kind.
Despite my love of Wooos, we added a third, woo-less transition. This marks the dark change to the theme of the track as we descend into a kind of tonal chaos of despair.
Song Form and Stylings
I've been lusting over the idea of a through-composed song for a long time now. I'll basically talk to anyone about it, and I have. If you've been around me while I've been beered up you probably got an earful of through-composition and how much I wanted to try it. Anyway, this seemed the perfect opportunity. The song is in 3 acts, the first being the kind of generic slow-funk that any whitey can pull out of their trousers. It's just a teaser, but it establishes the setting: a local food court, tilled and echoing, a range of international cuisines on offer united by their general lack of nutritive value.
The second stanza simply kicks the first up a notch. Here is where our disco balls start spinning as we begin to sample the local wares. The bassline jumps down an octave, symbolising that we are descending to new lows as we dine in this underground eatery. The keyboards tighten up to keep the rhythm on the dance-floor smooth and consistent. Hand claps find their way in to enhance the authenticity.
In the final stanza we break it down Sun-Ra style. Proper free jazz with space effects and atonal chords. There may be a bit of walking bass in here. This is where the true horror of our dining experience is revealed as the constant vibration of consumption shatters our illusions and we can no longer hide the raw human ugliness that surrounds this cursed meal. This part is the hardest to dance to, but the most rearding if you can pull it off.
Technical Musical Elements
The entire song is in the key of G and contains uses of the dorian mode while mostly leaning heavily on a minor pentatonic scale. This is not really so different from most of our songs.
I'm really happy with my brother's work on both the keyboards and the drums. I think his drumming ties the whole song together in what might have been (although you may consider it still to be) a disjointed mess.
This was one of the smoother experiences thanks to El Cucurucho's increased aptitude for the equipment we were using. I really got to see the Ardour audio software shine. I'm increasingly amazed at the times we live in, where this kind of technology both exists and is available as free software for anyone to use. Powerful times call for powerful music, so we do our best to deliver.
I actually really expected this song to have been a failed venture since I came to the session completely without inspiration or direction. My brother provided most of these energies. My main contribution was to somehow come up with a concept and then actual lyrics while he was experimenting with audio effects and timing. I wrote all of it in about 15 minutes from concept to stepping up to the mic. For this gift, I'd like to thank Frank Zappa. I've been listening to Overnight Sensation a lot lately and the following lines (from Camarillo Brillo) form the prototype for this song's entire lyrical dimension:
She stripped away her rancid poncho
And laid out naked by the door.
We did it till we were unconcho
And it was useless anymore.