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May 11, 2007
Numerology: Dozens - Standard, Baker's
by David Klein
Let’s get this straight right from the start: Twelve is not one of those cool numbers. Say the word “twelve” out loud a few times and you might stop believing there really is such a word. Its lack of euphoniousness is no doubt responsible for the dearth of 12-titled songs. Nevertheless, one has to work with what one has. I had to cast aside “12 X U” by Wire because it’s sung “one-two-ex-you,” but that’s probably a good thing because Wire looms Giacometti-like on the numerical horizon. Other songs to be considered hastily and then gotten rid of include Dylan’s “Rainy Day Women #12 & 35” (Zimmy never says “12”—or “35” or “rainy day woman” for that matter), the sachrymose ballad (that’s a cross between saccharine and lachrymose—I recently submitted it to OED online; haven’t heard back yet) “The Twelfth of Never,” which was a hit for the likes of Donny Osmond, Johnny Mathis, and Slim Whitman. (For that alone you would think the song would be utterly disqualified from consideration here.) But in the course of researching this deeply complicated piece, I unearthed the fact that Jeff Buckley covered this song, and so has Nina Simone, Elvis, and a slew of notables. In the end it matters not; so firmly ensconced in the "You Can’t Polish a Turd" school of musical criticism am I that no further discussion of bad songs happening to good people is necessary.
Not that there are that many places to go. The languid and lovely “Twelve Hours of Sunset” by Roy Harper is as shimmery as its title would suggest. Harper has always existed well below the radar here in the states, even when he was saluted by name in a Led Zeppelin song (“Hats Off To (Roy) Harper”), and delivered a memorable lead vocal on Pink Floyd’s “Have a Cigar.” A fantastic acoustic guitar player, Harper issued his first LP in 1966, and has continued writing songs and performing in a deeply personal vein ever since. Harper coaxed haunting acoustic solos out of Jimmy Page on 1971’s outstanding Stormcock, a fine place to start.
As this numerological exercise evolves beyond a mere list, it starts to resemble a jukebox of sorts, and hence, I’m starting to value punchy, jukebox-sized songs because of the way they fit together into a lean, punchy set with some attitude. With that in mind, it’s not hard to choose “12:51” by the Strokes, a lean, sassy song by a band that’s been adored and maligned in equal measure. The sweet jab of rhythm guitar, the helium-tinged Cars synth and the beautiful dumbness of the main hook prove irresistible to these ears. Also to its credit: the number “12” gets some good enunciation in the bridge, and, in an echo of the “Five Foot One”/“6’ 1” segue, here we go from “11:59” to “12:51.” And, [speaking in my worst Tony Montana voice], and that I like.
I’m in a state. I’ve got a pair of stellar opposites vying for “13” gold: The Pixies’ scabrous “No. 13 Baby” and the musical comfort food that is “Thirteen” by Big Star. But first, the also-rans: the flipside to “Rock Around the Clock” was called “Thirteen Women (And Only One Man in Town)” It starts out like a real downer, with the lines, “Last night I was dreamin’/dreamed about the H Bomb” but it’s actually a fantasy about the bright side of nuclear war: namely, you could, conceivably, get a lot of nookie. For a kitschier version of the track, look no further than the back catalog of the multitalented Ann-Margaret. Brian Jonestown Massacre’s “13” is a low-slung bluesy shuffle that is certainly no slouch. Nor is Elvis Costello’s “13 Steps Lead Down,” off of Brutal Youth (1994), one a very small number of Costello records that I’ve gotten some mileage out of, post-Juliet Letters. “13 Steps, which has the added advantage of being 13 years old, has some of that whip-crack intensity of the younger, far less content Mr. McManus of yesteryear. It saddens me not to be able to consider John Carpenter’s surprisingly good soundtrack for Assault on Precinct 13, but as an instrumental work, it doesn’t stand a tattooed tit’s chance in hell among the crop of songs under consideration. Besides which, if you want to get technical, the assault in question takes place at Precinct 9, Division 13, so the song is disqualified under the Moonglows “Bait and Switch” precedent (i.e., in “The Ten Commandments of Love,” only nine are mentioned, rendering the song null and void for this list.)
So what’s it going to be then, eh?
The sweetest song ever written, which doesn’t even say thirteen but only does so invisibly, out of implication, or a badass swaggerer who rides into town and declares itself No. 13, baby…?
Big Star’s song is a thing of rare beauty, to be sure, with resonant, poignant lyrics that even the less lyrically minded among us can appreciate. But there’s that nagging feeling that the titular digits are never mentioned, and the added fact that the Pixies follow the Strokes quite nicely, and so I have to tip my hat to Black Francis & Co. Other reasons to vote Pixies in the great 13 choice poll: An overall greater adherence to numerical values. The cover of Doolittle (for my money, the best, most cohesive LP in the Pixies canon) is littered with low numbers, and it also contains the immortal “If the Devil is 6/Then God is seven” rant from “Monkey Gone to Heaven.” Finally, “No. 13 Baby” pulls you in at the very beginning, with a hanging minor chord that seems to quote almost directly from the chord that begins the nastiest song in the Kinks canon: “I’m Not Like Everybody Else.”
Numerology is our pal Dave's ill advised quest to find the definitive song for every number from one to a hundred. He'll probably coast on teen angst for awhile, but there are rough times ahead.
Previously: No. 1, 2-4, 5-7, 7 (counterpoint), 8, 9, 10/11
Posted by Jeff Klingman at May 11, 2007 06:10 AM
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Comments
When I think of songs and the number 12 it is my childhood that comes to mind. Specifically the Cookie Monster singing The 12 Days of Christmas from "A Sesame Street Christmas". That vinyl was played more times by my brother, sister, and I over the years than any other vinyl in our house. It also joggled a memory of my double cousin and I both losing our two front teeth one Christmas many years ago. That Christmas my cousin and I listented to "All I want for Christmas is my Two Front Teeth", performed by The Count, many many times. Needless to say, my mother was ready to throw that vinyl through the window by the time I was 12 (no pun intended).
Posted by: Kelli Douglas at May 11, 2007 09:58 AM
These are EXACTLY what I was hoping 12 and 13 would be. Great job, Klein!
Posted by: Randall Monty at May 11, 2007 01:22 PM
Once I dusted off my dictionary (lachrymose), looked up Giacometti, and stopped laughing about the polishing a turd school of music criticism..still laughing..ok..I listened to the song. Tasty Pick for Number 12! . Irresistable little tune. Happy, Happy. I can see Cookie Monster skipping down the avenue..and the handclaps...where did handclaps show up before..nubmer 8? Happy!Happy!Joy! Joy!
Posted by: ms lurker at May 11, 2007 03:53 PM
Number 13 Baby.
With a nod to Big Star. I'm going to listen to it 13 times today. what a beautiful song.
Posted by: ms lurker at May 11, 2007 05:10 PM
David,
This was the "best" yet.
We slavishly admire you at the orphanage.
--your pal,
Queerus Octavius
Posted by: Queerus Octavius Johnson at May 15, 2007 03:50 PM
