Appendix B: Famous Songs. They are Numerous.
Karmacoma featuring Tricky. This song is a perfect example of the bizarre hip-hop hybrid that coined the use of the term "Trip Hop." At the very beginning of the band's career, the public had trouble categorizing them, but ultimately the vocals and regular beats of (a few of) their songs allowed critics to draw a bridge between electronica and American hip-hop/early rap.
Teardrop has remained perennially on the Itunes Top 100 (always lingering at number 20 or thereabouts.)As you can see, the (rather odd) video has attracted over six million views. The vocalist, Liz Fraser, is a fairly frequent guest on Massive Attack tracks. Although Portishead set the precedent for unusual female vocals in Trip Hop, Massive Attack also has its fair share of crooning sirens on their tracks. "Teardrop" made Liz Fraser's voice almost as iconic as Beth Gibbons'. However, as a rule, Massive Attack tends towards breathy or intensely soulful male vocals.
"Inertia Creeps" is a perfect example of the aforementioned breathy male vocals. Here, the singer is Massive Attack member MC Robert del Naja; he is heavily featured in Massive Attack's Collected Rarities because his songs are unique to the point of extremity. He also sang the iconic Butterfly Caught. "Inertia Creeps" also illustrates the inherent complexity in Massive Attack's often simplistic lyrics. Although the singer seems to be talking about how boredom and idleness overtake you when you least expect it, he personifies this sensibility quite sexually; we then have to ask ourselves whether inertia is a woman he knows or whether, ominously, he is losing his ability to take action.
Angel featuring Horace Andy is one of Massive Attack's most ambient/least dissonant songs. It has been featured in multiple movies and TV shows, but nothing of particular interest. (Horace Andy is the reggae singer who declared Trip-Hop to be the "new world music.")
"Live with Me" is THE example of Massive Attack's soulfulness. Enough said.
Of course, we should all know the original version of "Dissolved Girl," just because it showed up in The Matrix. Ten points to anyone who provides a viable philosophical interpretation of the Wachowski brothers' use of the song:
