This song is the exception to the all killer, no filler doctrine.
"Those Thieving Birds (Part 1) / Strange Behaviour / Those Thieving Birds (Part 2)" (which I'm going to refer to as "Strange Behavior" from now on, because I hate typing the full title) is more than seven minutes long, except not really, because it's an awesome power pop melody shrouded in an ablative outer shell composed of Enya song.
"Strange Behavior" is off Silverchair's 2007 album Young Modern, which is a favorite of mine largely because it sounds so little like the work that made the band famous around the the turn of the century. They grew up and pretty much ditched grunge for a sound that's heavy on synths and strings, and the result is a record I like a great deal, even if large sections of it are lyrically incomprehensible to me.
The kicker for this song is that the middle section--the part you'd recognize as a rock song, which starts around two minutes in--operates mostly in eight-measure lines, in which the third and fourth beats of the second measure are really loud on the downbeats and mostly, sometimes completely, silent in the background. Like this: "One two three four, one two BANG BANG, one two three four..."
It's a little subtle in the verses, but it's most obvious in the chorus, on "If this street's air ain't up to par..." and no, I don't know why Daniel Johns pronounces "air" as "aiweh." It's bothered me for eight years.
Anyway, that rhythmic/dynamic device is pretty much the ballgame--about eight percent of the downbeats in the verses and chorus of one of three movements of a seven-and-a-half-minute song are awesome, and most of the rest is bullshit. That's overstating it a little--the second movement grooves like crazy, and the first and third movements have grown on me. I used to just fast-forward to the middle, but now I find they do add something to the whole package, even if I can't figure out why I like it.
That's the power of those two beats. Imagine that you're walking down a sidewalk--purposefully, but not hurriedly, like you're running slightly late for a bus or for class. And there's a man behind you who, every 15 seconds, shoots a gun in the air without warning you. Only instead of jumping in the air dying of fright before you land, the noise compels you to skip off the curb and click your heels together.
"Strange Behavior" is off Silverchair's 2007 album Young Modern, which is a favorite of mine largely because it sounds so little like the work that made the band famous around the the turn of the century. They grew up and pretty much ditched grunge for a sound that's heavy on synths and strings, and the result is a record I like a great deal, even if large sections of it are lyrically incomprehensible to me.
The kicker for this song is that the middle section--the part you'd recognize as a rock song, which starts around two minutes in--operates mostly in eight-measure lines, in which the third and fourth beats of the second measure are really loud on the downbeats and mostly, sometimes completely, silent in the background. Like this: "One two three four, one two BANG BANG, one two three four..."
It's a little subtle in the verses, but it's most obvious in the chorus, on "If this street's air ain't up to par..." and no, I don't know why Daniel Johns pronounces "air" as "aiweh." It's bothered me for eight years.
Anyway, that rhythmic/dynamic device is pretty much the ballgame--about eight percent of the downbeats in the verses and chorus of one of three movements of a seven-and-a-half-minute song are awesome, and most of the rest is bullshit. That's overstating it a little--the second movement grooves like crazy, and the first and third movements have grown on me. I used to just fast-forward to the middle, but now I find they do add something to the whole package, even if I can't figure out why I like it.
That's the power of those two beats. Imagine that you're walking down a sidewalk--purposefully, but not hurriedly, like you're running slightly late for a bus or for class. And there's a man behind you who, every 15 seconds, shoots a gun in the air without warning you. Only instead of jumping in the air dying of fright before you land, the noise compels you to skip off the curb and click your heels together.
