Grandaddy

Straight off the bat, a quick note on this A.M. 180 music video: despite digging deep, I’ve found no trace of an official video ever gracing this Grandaddy gem. My hunch? It’s a fan-made masterpiece, crafted with such finesse it could pass for the real deal. Hats off to the unsung genius behind it—bravo for nailing the vibe. Grandaddy’s “A.M. 180,” a gem from their 1997 debut Under the Western Freeway, is a melancholic indie rock tune that whispers of lost connections with lines like, “Don’t change your name, keep it the same / For fear I may lose you again.” It’s a song that, much like a forgotten love letter, found new life in unexpected places. Think the eerie opening of 28 Days Later (2002), where it set the tone for a post-apocalyptic London, or as the quirky theme for Charlie Brooker's Screenwipe. Released as a single in 1998, it even hit number 88 on the UK charts, proving that even modest numbers can carry a big cultural punch. Oh, the tales this song could tell! Its inclusion in 28 Days Later didn’t just soundtrack a zombie apocalypse; it resurrected Grandaddy’s fame, with fans on Reddit gushing, “28 days later got me hip,” as if the film was their indie rock gateway drug. Then there’s its gig in a 2009 Dodge Journey ad—yes, selling cars with existential vibes, a true marketing marvel. And let’s not forget the covers: Girls In Hawaii, inspired by a 2003 Pukkelpop set, and PUP’s 2020 take, proving “A.M. 180” is the indie rock equivalent of a viral meme, popping up everywhere from Belgian stages to Canadian punk playlists. The song’s influence extends beyond media, rippling through the indie rock ecosystem. Belgian band Girls In Hawaii, inspired by Grandaddy’s 2003 Pukkelpop set, regularly cover it live, a nod to its formative impact . These covers, like echoes in a canyon, affirm the song’s place in the indie pantheon, a tune that inspires and evolves. Digging deeper, we uncover gems: the synth sound, a subject of fascination on Reddit’s r/synthrecipes, where fans dissect its square wave and pitch bend, a sonic puzzle as intriguing as the song itself . And let’s not overlook the cultural footprint. Its use in a Dodge ad, a surreal marriage of indie ethos and corporate sheen, or its chart position, a humble number 88 that belies its legacy. These details, like footnotes in a grand narrative, enrich our understanding of a song that, while modest in origin, looms large in impact. X: https://x.com/Grandaddy Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/grandaddymusic Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/grandaddymusic/ Spotify: https://ffm.link/grandaddy-spotify Apple Music: https://ffm.link/grandaddy-apple Bandcamp: https://grandaddy.bandcamp.com/ Website: https://www.grandaddymusic.com/

The Song: "Now It's On" "Now It's On" is a quintessential Grandaddy track, merging crunchy, mid-tempo guitars with a slightly off-kilter beat and shimmering synth effects, all in service of Lytle’s elongated, Neil Young-esque melodies. The lyrics evoke a sense of transformation and liberation, with lines like: “Bust the lock off the front door / Once you’re outside you won’t want to hide anymore / Light the light on the front porch / Once it’s on you never wanna turn it off anymore.” These suggest a breaking free from constraint, a theme that resonates with Lytle’s recurring motifs of escaping the mundane, perhaps reflective of his roots in Modesto, California, a town he once likened to a prison. The song’s raw authenticity, marked by some spontaneous flourishes, aligns with Grandaddy’s ethos of embracing imperfections, as described in Rock and Roll Globe: their music prizes “distortion, drones, flubs, frequency wobble,” proof of “music made by normal people working within their limitations.” The Music Video The music video for "Now It's On," directed by Jake Wynne and Jim Canty, produced by Juliette Larthe, and edited by David Webb, is a lesser-documented artifact, with sparse details available. The video captivates me nearly as much as the song itself, its enigmatic imagery weaving a spell that rivals the track’s melodic allure. What compels that weary, older man to toil endlessly in a hamster wheel, chasing the flicker of electric light? The hamster wheel is a potent allegory for the song’s theme of liberation through effort. The older man’s struggle to generate electricity mirrors the lyric “Bust the lock off the front door.” Freedom requires grueling work, a breaking of internal or external chains. The wheel, a symbol of Sisyphean toil, suggests the repetitive, dehumanizing routines of modern life. Beyond this, I entrust the viewer to weave his or her own interpretations, as befits the liberty of thought. Lyrics Now that the cay's in place Where the sea used to be It seems that I'm seasoned to be In the season of the old me I wouldn't trade my place I got no reason to be Weathered and withering Like in a season of the old me Bust the lock off the front door Once you're outside you won't want to hide anymore Light the light on the front porch Once it's on you never wanna turn it off anymore And now it's on Now it's on Now that the lake's in place Where the dead sea used to be It seems that I'm seasoned to be In the season of the old me I wouldn't trade my place I got no reason to be Weathered and withering Like in a season of the old me Bust the lock off the front door Once you're outside you won't want to hide anymore Light the light on the front porch Once it's on you're never wanna turn it off anymore And now it's on And now it's on