great jangly guitar-pop song

Johnny Marr once said that he wanted to write a song with an unforgettable guitar intro, like Eric Clapton's "Layla". He was, at the time, talking about the penning of the Smiths' "How Soon is Now?" The Chameleons' "Swamp Thing" does everything still that "How Soon is Now?" did for me when I was 16. Difference is, I haven't popped in a Smiths mixtape since I was 20.

There's somthing very romantic about this song. I've never really paid too much attention to the lyrics of this particular Chameleons track, although Mark Burgess' oddly peotic songwriting skills on other tracks have haunted my mind years after I had heard them. This tune is led and driven by the chord structure more than just the delayed, jangly guitar, or the powerfully precise drumming. Midway into the tune, the song goes from minor chord structure to major chord structure, even though the lyrics remain as bleak as a Manchester weather report.

Whenever I hear this song, one word always pops into my head, "pretty". That's what this song is. Pretty.

Club 8, consisting of songwriter and multi-instrumentalist Johan Angergaard and vcalist Karolina Komstedt, started of in the mid 90s with a twee indie pop sound, with jangly guitars (Angergaard being a major Smiths fan) and simple instrumetation. With the release of their self- titled album in 2001 they added some electronica without losing the general tone of their music which is basically well crafted, melodic, gentle, airy, etheral, melancholic indie pop. Karolina Komstedt vocals are quite similar to early Nina Person of The Cardigans or Claudine Longet in their airy, angelic, dreamlike delivery. "The Next Step You'll Take" is a bossa nova influenced track, with gentle acoustic and electric guitars, some percussion and vibraphone. Nothing groundbreaking, but they combine well known elements in such a charming, delicate way i find them hard to resist.

This track, heck, make that soundtrack, is fast becoming an all-time Morricone favourite for me (that's saying a lot-I would hate to have to count the # of soundtracks I have collected by him). It describes, quite evocatively and soulfully, exactly what it feels like to be in a dream. No synthesizers, either (well, obvious synthesizers), just celeste, strings and Edda doing this descending scale thing. And the drums and rhythm pick up and we are off to the races in some kind of cosmic heaven. It's a jangly melody that keeps spiralling higher and higher. I don't think Edda has ever hit any higher notes! The whole "Vergogna Schifosi" soundtrack is glorious, really. I know that sounds stupid, but it's so short and sweet and filled with beautiful, mysterious and lush instrumentation. Worth seeking out the CD. I found mine thru Lionel, the fello at Hillside in the UK. Thanks Lionel!

My favorite ever guitarist. The song is on the Tones album, which was his 1986 debut for Warner Bros, produced by David Tickle(they should work together again - Eric's records have never sounded this good since). Trail Of Tears begins quietly, building up for quite awhile into a fusion of new-wave and Texas Hendrix - yes, you heard me, and it works. At the end the rhythm section drops out and you float with just synth and guitar, which coalesces into Bristol Shores' quiet, arpeggiated clean guitar intro. Bristol Shores is heartfelt and lonely guitar pop, also with a kinda new-wavy feel. I've never heard anything quite like this magical pair of songs, or quite like the sound & style achieved on this record. Eric really should think about revisiting this sound.

To me, Everything But The Girl are one of the most memorable bands of the 80s and 90s. What always strikes me is how their sound evolved from jangly, jazzy-pop in the beginning to polished, rather slick sophisti-pop in the late 80s/early 90s to sample-heavy, drum & bass/trip-hop influenced, house-embracing electronica at the end of their recording history in the mid/late 90s. Despite the change in sound they always managed to capture a consistency in the feel of the music, always revolving around the same themes over the years, dripping with melancholia, unrequited love, self-pity, romantic disillusionment etc. "Two Star" is a delicate, yet emotionally bleak ballad. Acoustic in sound, with piano, double bass and a wonderful string arrangement by Harry Robinson plus some cor anglais embellishments by Kate St. John.

Can't get this song out of my head. The whole album is full of 'em but this is the one that's currently driving me nuts. I thik it's about the end of the world, but I'm not sure.

Martin Newell has been writing '60s-influenced jangly pop gems for decades, and this is maybe the best example. It's a mid-tempo affair with a good beat and ringing guitars sounding like the Beatles' "Rain". Other faves: "Goodbye Dreaming Fields" and "She Rings the Changes". The CD is a compilation of his work, and includes a number of tracks by his '80s band the Cleaners From Venus, notably the protest classic "Living With Victoria Grey".

Another of my favorite indie tracks in my youth. Can I say 'indie' anymore? Ten years ago the term had meaning, but I get the impression this has faded. I'm talking about bands who recorded for small independent labels, obviously. Anyway, I have a special fondness for McCarthy, since they played at the first live show I ever attended. It was on March 3rd 1990 at the Bowen West Theatre in Bedford, England. Were you there? I know at least one member of this site was (how's it going, Phil?).

Anyway, this is another superbly evocative track for me, with layers of nicely picked guitars, and some intense drumming. The vocals are heartfelt in a way that unkind people might call 'weedy'; I think they're brilliant, needless to say. McCarthy were a superb indie band with jangly Wedding Present-style guitars and a political edge. Tim Gane later went on to form Stereolab, who I also like a lot, but in a very different way.

Trumpet, strings & a subtle jangly sound begin this song in a way that suggests a tale of heartbreak, as Burt Bacharach can do it. Then piano and wordless female vocals join, in a chorus that seems to say love or redemption is going to come. And this is done in a Todd Rundgren way, as on his Something/Anything album. Then it repeats, and you're redeemed again. Two winsome influences are combined in this sound library recording for a real slice of heaven.

A super-simple, super-charming innocent indie pop song from the hazy summer of 1990. The popguns were a nice jangly guitar band with a female singer and the old drummer from the Wedding Present. Their best songs really are excellent; I'm slightly surprised to find myself still enjoying them after all these years.

Classic New Zealand psychedelia .... jangly guitar, haunting, evocative lyrics, fragile vocals and an otherworldly feeling which perfecly evokes Dunedin. The best New Zealand pop song ever written.

Any label searching for the perfect pop cover to resurrect from the forgotten early-90s (as with "There She Goes") would do well to give several listens to this equally bustling-yet-melodic paean to the bittersweet tang of youthful somethingorothers. Jangling electric guitars, singalong choruses (it doesn't get any easier than "come and see/trampoline"), mumbling, presumably insightful scatting over the reprise, layered harmonies, and a throwback yowling guitar solo. Merely sneering, "I already have one Oasis album," does not excuse you from the obligation to hear and love this song!!!

Released as a B-side in 1981 ,this group were so prolific at this time vast parts of their output never made it to albums ,turning up ,like this gem as b sides or outakes,This is late period Jam in a wistful jangly mood but with a darker undertone lurking behind the mellowness ,the song ,lyrically,mourns the passing of a way of life sacrificed to progress and declining morals.Has hints of British psychedelica at its most parochial ,The Kinks come to mind as do early Floyd.The almost pastoral feel of this was not out of step with Wellers writing at this time and his finest inspiration often came to fruition on calssic b-sides like this .

I'm a complete sucker for jangly guitar, and thus The Wedding Present's back catalogue is a treasure trove for me. A great breakup song from a band with more than their fair share, "Brassneck" is available in two versions on the reissue of _Bizarro_ - the LP version and the single version (the latter of which was recorded by Steve Albini and is many people's favourite, but not mine). It isn't their fastest song, but the speedy, tendonitis-inducing guitar strum still leaves me slack-jawed.