Old music: Lisa Loeb & Nine Stories – Stay ( ..
Lisa Loeb's tale of callow self-absorption has weathered rather better than such contemporaries as Whigfield Like a young Lamacq or Peel, I stumbled across Stay (I Missed You) in the mid-90s on an underground mixtape called Now 29. I'd bought the compilation on the strength of similar one-hit "wonders" Pato Banton and Whigfield , whose songs I now regard with a turbulent mix of revulsion and nostalgia, the way exiled dictators must remember their war crimes. I think time has been kinder to Lisa Loeb & Nine Stories, and their offering sits somewhere between an obviously embarrassing song loved in youth, and actually quite good. Some lazy Wikipedia research reveals the song placed 93rd on VHS 1's 100 Greatest Songs of the Nineties (only one spot below Public Enemy's 911 Is a Joke). The title, with its parenthetical over-explanation, signposts the wordy earnestness ahead. Loeb's guitar picks out a simple arpeggio as she admonishes: "You say I only hear what I want to," warning us that this may be the most self-involved song ever written. Almost every line contains a clutch of first person singulars: "I turned the radio on, I turned the radio up, and this woman was singing my song." Such callow self-absorption chimed perfectly with me when I was an adolescent and, to be honest, now. A complicated lyric recounts the criticisms of an ex, scattered with vague angsty staples about not belonging, and someone dying since the day they were born. Interestingly, while parsing the individual lines isn't always particularly edifying, the song has a clearer emotional meaning located in its form and non-lyrical content. The song is structured around a central passage of sonic catharsis. After the tentative opening, the pace and density of Loeb's roiling litany of self-recrimination increases; the personal pronouns pile up; the accents of the bass and backing voices grow ...
Guardian music
15 May 2012