Standing Outside A Broken Phone Booth With Money In My Hand – Primitive Radio Gods
This one is almost the epitome of the forgotten classic. In fact, its been that way since the very beginning. It was an old demo that the band had basically abandoned, eventually made its way into the studio, and was then released to utterly no fanfare. Then, the next year, it suddenly got noticed and became a massive hit virtually overnight.
It’s quiet, deeply reflective, but also somehow apocalyptic. The sort of song that you’d play while waiting for the heavens to unleash themselves.
It starts with the sound of a record player dropping – and then it shifts into that distant drum beat with that B.B. King sample. It’s a perfect amalgam of several decades of musical history. It marks the demise of the record – and its rebirth in a new form. It connects the legacy of the blues to the more downtrodden textures that would grow into trip hop. And then there’s the glorious bit at the end when you hear the crackly voice of the phone call, the ringing of the bells, the music just starting to swell, and he sings out the B.B. King bit, with a passion that utterly reconfigures the line, turning it into somewhat triumphant.