Crispian Mills stirs the winds that toss the sea in Kula Shaker’s “Hurricane Season”
The confusing and often unexpected time signature changes of “Hurricane Season” seem spontaneous, but they move and thrash about with the details of the story painted by the lyrics of the churning sea.
All musicians know the struggle of playing in 5/4 time. It is unnatural and against all other instincts we have in music. One, two, three, four, five, one, two, three, four, one – no five, two, three, wait – no one! Two, three, four, on-FIVE! Three, four…
I gave my headphones to a fellow choir member in high school with the task of discerning the time signature of Kula Shaker’s “Hurricane Season.” It was amusing – to say the least – to watch her hands swing around aimlessly, realizing she had missed a downbeat. About two minutes in, she pulled the headphones out of her ears in a huff and said, “I can’t do it, Madeline. That song is frustrating me, get it out of my sight.”
But if you think about it, giving an impossible time signature to a song about a sailor in a hurricane was the perfect plan. Just as it irritates the musicians with its confusion, so does the hurricane in the song befuddle and toss around the sailor in the lyrics. The confusing and often unexpected time signature changes of “Hurricane Season” seem spontaneous, but they move and thrash about with the details of the story painted by the lyrics of the churning sea.
As you would expect, the song opens with the sounds of seagulls and the ocean before the bass and keys start playing. We are sailing smooth seas here, and the winds are only beginning to stir. The majority of the song follows a 5/4 time signature, adding a mysterious or ominous aspect to the story – the extra beat foretelling of more trials yet to come.
He was an outcast from the islands sailing ‘cross the sea
Bending the horizon, bearing with the breeze
Searching for a treasure buried long ago
‘Cause nothing lasts forever except what you don’t know
We are then introduced to the character of the sailor. He is an explorer, an outcast, believes he is the master of the sea, in perfect control of his ship.
But he weren’t afraid of dying, of stepping through that door
The compass started reeling, and he stared into the storm
He is fearless, and he thinks he is ready for any challenge that may be thrown his way. But he faces the storm with uncertainty as “the compass started reeling.” Here, we have the first time signature change of the song as these lyrics mark the brief deviation to a 3/4 time.
The way “Hurricane Season” flows with its 5/4 time could also be broken up into a 3/4 measure followed by a 2/4 measure. And with the unexpected changes to 3/4, the last two beats are left out – an entire measure is left out – hence why it is so easy to be thrown off if you are trying to follow the time signature.
And specifically with the change at “the compass started reeling,” the lyrics foretell of the first sign of disaster about to hit as well as the direct image of the compass’ needle spinning out of control.
Soon everything was rolling and moaning like a hound
And an angry ton of water
Knocked him to the ground
This portion of the verse follows a steady 3/4 time up until “Knocked him to the ground.” The 3/4 time is seen as a “waltz time,” so the sea is starting to dance around, not giving any breaks like it does with the extra two beats in 5/4 time. And with the start of the next measure matching with the word, “knocked,” we are knocked back into 5/4 time, almost like a wave of reality slamming into us. “Oh shoot, things are getting real.”
As for the chorus, we have another time change to 3/4 in the measure before and during the lyrics, “Hey, hey, hey.” There is no warning, and without anticipating it, “Hey, hey, hey” crashes into the middle of the 5/4 measure. It is not a jubious “hey” that Mills is singing, but rather a declaration of entrance as another merciless wall of water hits the ship.
The second verse continues like the first, but it is a tad more anticipated than the last. He’s starting to see things now, and his life is flashing before his eyes. So while he thinks he hears the voice of people he knows telling him that he’s crazy, it is really him questioning himself.
But the other interesting part of the chorus I have yet to mention is its securing of the roles of the different instruments. The keyboard is of course the centerpiece of the story, showing how the waves dance and thrash, but the guitar rises ominously with the wind, having little change in pitch but with electric energy emanating from Mill’s right hand. Together, the band conjures up a great storm, and no instrument is left to the background.
The bridge is the steadiest section of the song, but it is in its lack of confusion where it is the most chaotic. Unlike the rest of the song, the 4/4 time of the bridge never wavers. It continues on until the storm of the guitar and the keys cease. It has no need to throw you off in this section, no need for a change in time. It is mercilessly tossing the boat this way and that way, giving no time for reprieve. The measures come at a constant, rolling in one after the other. You would expect the dynamic changes of the verses and chorus to be chaotic, but while they do build tension, it is the expected and traditional 4/4 time that makes the bridge unbearable. And that is exactly how the sailor feels as we move into the final verse.
He called out to the angels, he called into the deep
He said, “God, if you can hear me, give me some relief
“Ain’t here to ask for favours, don’t want to ask for gold
“Only want possession, possession of my soul
“I’m begging for your mercy, I’m begging for you, please
“I’m just a simple traveler
“Lost upon the sea”
Everything ceases as Mills starts to sing, and it is almost silent as he calls out to God. The character introduced to us in the first verse was fearless, adventurous, and maybe a bit reckless. But now we see a man torn down, desperate, and shaken by fear. He is no longer an adventurer searching for lost treasure, he is now but “a simple traveler/Lost upon the sea,” left to the mercy of the angry hurricane taking away the control of his ship.
In just five minutes, Kula Shaker has constructed a story complete with exposition, tension building, a climax, and a denouement resulting in a major character change. I won’t deny that the other Kula Shaker albums are superior to the majority of the songs on Strangefolk, but “Hurricane Season” was only proof that although the reincarnated Kula Shaker was different from the band we saw from the 90s, they hadn’t left any talent behind.
