Sunday, September 25, 2011

Bowling, for Music

Sometimes I wonder if I’m nuts, thinking about music so much. I mean, it’s not like I even play an instrument very well. Perhaps it’s that very lack of ability in music that causes me to overcompensate by listening and reading and writing so much about it.


The term hobby sounds harmless enough. Obsession is actually kinda sexy. But the bleak reality is an ever growing stack of CDs, forever tipping over and taking up more room than my actual children.

So it’s a cause for worry. Jaybee, I’ll tell myself, maybe it’s time to grow up and merely like music.


But then along comes a guy who outdoes me by a mile, leaving me feeling both very relieved and a touch jealous. His name’s David Bowling, and he writes for BC (blogcritics)

Here’s his bio, with my admittedly envious commentary:

I have been collecting vinyl records for over forty years….
Yeah, so what? I’ve been doing it for…..forty SIX years! In your face DB!


…and my collection is approaching 50.000 records…
Holy shit, I’ve got barely 1,400. Okay, I surrender! The guy’s officially my hero.


My wife Susan and children, Stacey and Amy, have learned to humor my passion.
And suffer from starvation no doubt. And I thought my wife and kids were good sports.


I am now settled in beautiful Whispering Pines, North Carolina...
No doubt because the Band told him to.


…where I work hard…
Allright, stop showing off.


…listen to music…
No shit. You’d better, or else eat those records.


… and write reviews for Blogcritics.
What, and get paid for it too? Well, it’s official now: FML.


And what’s his method? He takes an artist and - get this - REVIEWS EVERY ONE SINGLE ONE OF THEIR ALBUMS!


Why, you might ask? The same reason why a dog licks his balls, I guess. Because he can! He apparently has every record ever recorded. His house isn’t in Whispering Pines, NC. His house IS Whispering Pines, NC.


With all due respect Mr. Bowling, we all have a limited time on this Earth, so it’s okay to give in to what Al Capone link would call our “enthusiasms” and ignore the rest. We are not meant to be encyclopedias, after all.


Besides, there are very few artists who deserve such attention. And someone who would dutifully review the 17th album by Yes link (or the Allman Brothers link , for that matter) had to have something wrong with him. He carries completism – a concept I’ve now officially come down against - to it’s (il)logical extreme.


Someone who listens to music so comprehensively simply cannot be very passionate about it, I tell myself.


But I’m wrong, and I know it. Encyclopedias are exactly what the professionals are supposed to be, god help them. Meanwhile, I get to f*ck off and only write about what I feel like. Base envy has led me to mock David’s dogged commitment, and for that I apologize. (By the way, per David, Yes’s 17th album is slightly better than their 16th, but quite up to par with their 15th. Or was it their 14th? What a life, I thought…)


My method is more like:
• I don’t even have the first album, but I remember hearing it at my friend’s house in 1973. I therefore conclude that the artist has “potential”, but is somewhat “unfocused”.
• I really should listen to the second, but it’s in the basement. I can save a LOT of time by just calling it a “lost masterpiece”.
• I only have the third and fourth albums on 8-track, so I really don’t remember them. Let’s call this a “transitional period”.
• And the rest I don’t have, and I’m frankly am not interested. Hence, my conclusion is that the artist has met with commercial success and I need not add anything to the prevailing wisdom, or that this is a late “unappreciated” (especially by me) period.


Thus with a minimum of time and effort– between dinner and the dishes, let’s say - I can provide you, dear reader, with “fresh insight” or “a unique perspective” on “the high points” of an artist’s career.


But David’s a better human being than me, and I just can’t stand people like that. It’s a love/hate relationship. I love me and hate him. Not true, I hate me most of the time, too.


For the moment, though, I love him, because he’s doing Carole King, which, as David reminds us (not in a nasty way. David’s better than that.) does not begin with “Tapestry”, but, rather, with “Writer”, which is always flying under my radar.


And yes, I could avoid this whole problematic relationship, by just going to allmusic.com link and reading about her whole career and discography, but that’s a place of collective knowledge and opinion. And while it does have its virtues, it does sometimes result in each record in an artist’s discography viewed as being the best, because each review is written by someone different. Sometimes it’s better to just have one consistent viewpoint taking on each record, one after the other (after the other).


So long live David. He makes me feel like shit. He makes me feel great. And, him being the nice guy that he is, I’m sure this is all very, very important to him.


Plus he uses the baby’s picture in his profile.  (Oh, David, I so want to hate you. Why do you make it so hard?)


Come on David, do Elton John next. I dare you!

Sunday, September 18, 2011

Secret History: 1974

My doubts about the mainstream are only growing by now. Good music is officially “hard to find”, at least for me, a seventeen year old. By which I mean I can no longer simply turn the radio on and expect to hear something I really like.

Forget AM radio. Never being fond of brass or strings, I only liked Motown from a distance. So I missed out on the pleasures of much ‘70s soul.

And FM? I could get by but not without constantly changing the station. So there’s very little below that I actually heard there and enjoyed at the time. So with very few exceptions, it would only be later that I’d find the records below.



The following, is more or less in descending order of quality:

The one true masterpiece is Richard and Linda Thompson’s “I Want To See The Bright Lights Tonight” which reminds me of the first Paul Simon album - simple arrangements and great songs. But Richard's also got his guitar and wife Linda singing along, making this one of the very best of the decade.

Randy Newman seemed to be on a mission to piss off the world - something he wouldn't quite accomplish until a few years later with "Short People". He started with his very weird first solo record, moved onto “Twelve Songs”, where phrases like “yellow man” and “darkies” popped up all over the place. “Sail Away” was a bit of a relief, but on “Good Old Boys”, he goes all out with the strings and tells stories of the American South, now using the N word.

What Randy's got going for him, though, is brilliant songwriting. "Marie" is one of the greatest love songs ever (but only when sung by Randy himself). “Louisiana 1928” would be merely moving if it didn't also remind you of Louisiana 2005. This one's my favorite by him.

If you like to read about music, you’ve already heard about Big Star’s “Radio City”. So all I’m going to say is that what you’ve heard is true. On first listen you might not think much of it because the Beatles were better. Just remember that the Beatles were better than everybody.

“Feats Don't Fail Me Now” was the Little Feat album that made me a fan. Little Feat remind me of beer – the first one you have is always the best.

I'm still waiting for someone to turn “Between Today and Yesterday” into a Broadway musical. Alan Price proves that he's got it with this take on his childhood in the coal towns of England. There are moments on this record that elicit such an emotional response in me (something that I’ll explain at a later time) that I am certain most people will think I'm nuts. I’d like a second opinion.

Neil Young was well into his blue period by now, and people (including me) were beginning to wonder about him, but only after first actually purchasing his records. At first, I was disappointed by “On the Beach”. Side one could be better. I heard a better “See the Sky About to Rain” on a live bootleg with just Neil on the piano. And “Vampire Blues” just isn't funny enough. Ah, but side two! This isn't mood music. It's trance music. And it probably sent most people scurrying back to side one. But it was where I wanted to live. “Motion Pictures” is one of his great depressing songs, but it's the finale "Ambulance Blues" that’s a masterpiece. You're all just pissin in the wind….

I've come to distrust those albums with too serious a theme. But Al Stewart is very likable, so his take on history - “Past Present and Future” - is enjoyable anyway. And like me, you don’t have to believe the Nostradamus stuff to love the last song. This one’s just before Al hits the big time.

You’d think a white British guy trying to sing New Orleans-style and basically stealing Little Feat’s sound, would piss me off a little more. But Robert Palmer’s “Sneakin Sally Through the Alley” ends up sounding better than it sounds, maybe because he used Little Feat as his band. This one bought him a lot of good will from me. And it would only be when he started wearing a suit that I began to find him unbearable.

Most Billy Joel fans love “Turnstiles” or “The Stranger” the best. But don’t overlook “Streetlife Serenader”. It’s a little calmer than his major label debut, and less supercilious (it’s really a word, I swear. Someone called me it once.) There’s some filler on it, but the ones that aren’t, like “Roberta” are quietly wonderful.


And although the following records technically came out in 1973, I’m putting them into 1974, because the artists had already released something else in ’73. That, and ‘cause I felt like it:
It took until “Europe 72” for me to like the Grateful Dead. I then went back to rehear what I had been missing. So the subsequent “Bear’s Choice” almost slipped through the cracks. Plus, I preferred their harmonies to Pigpen’s blues. But side one is gentle and side two is almost hypnotic. Thank you, Pigpen!

One of the highlights of my musical life was that Saturday morning in my room doing homework when I first heard “Incident on 52nd St”. Another was that Sunday afternoon, again in my room, hearing “Rosalita” followed by “NYC Serenade”. I would have sworn that Bruce Springsteen was black or Puerto Rican. I found his mix of rock and roll, latin horns, semi-soul music, and female background choruses intoxicating. Then, when I actually bought “The Wild, the Innocent and the E Street Shuffle” and found that these three songs took up side two, running seven, seven and ten minutes respectively. One of the great, and most audacious, sides in all of rock and roll. Side one’s a bit tame in comparison, but quite good under any other circumstances.



In sum, like the year before, I’m spending more and more time in my room listening to music, instead of hanging with friends doing so. That’s because my friends and I didn’t share the same tastes. That splintering of taste I referred to in prior posts is continuing unabated.

In retrospect, 1974 was not a bad year. The problem is that you should not have to wait for “in retrospect” to know.

Monday, September 5, 2011

To iPod or Not iPod

Sometimes people stop me in the street and ask "Hey Jaybee, you're really cool, so I wanna do the things you do. What’s your take on the iPod?"

My answer to them is: why would I use an iPod when I can already hear the voices in my head? This is usually sufficient for them, and they walk away in deep thought. But I have to admit that it got me thinking.

Last year, I started taking the train to work again, and I noticed that certain things about the subway got on my nerves(!) My train is elevated for most of the trip, so you can get cell phone reception. So some passengers yak incessantly during the commute. I’m an avid reader (i.e., a person who prefers books to people and real life), so I found myself looking up every minute or so, glaring at these perfectly nice people who I wished were dead. I soon learned to not sit next to two women catching up on old times (i.e. things that had happened since their conversation yesterday).

So I decided to use my cell phone to listen to music. And it was great! What had once been a noisy slog to and from work had now turned into another opportunity to hear whatever music I wanted. Living with three other people can constrain your more extreme inclinations in this area. Now I my ears could roam free.

The high point occurred one cool autumn evening on the commute home. I was tired but happy when this ambient instrumental came on. But for some reason I couldn’t place it. This was weird since all of the music came from my own record collection. Was it Eno? Aphex Twin? It took a full minute to place it. “Treefingers” by Radiohead, from “Kid A”. In that moment I had transcended that inherent limitation of enforced familiarity.

But familiarity was good, too. There were other times when I positively stomped my foot in happiness at what I was hearing. “Crooked” by Wussy. That must have looked strange to the two ladies trying to catch up.

But even so, there was something about all this that made me uncomfortable. I felt separated from the world around me. I don’t work in the best neighborhood, and not knowing what’s going on in the immediate area is not a good practice. Not to mention not being able to hear the Mack trucks that speed through the intersections I cross.

One morning, when I was still driving to work I spotted a ten year old about to cross the street at least a block away from me. There was no light at that corner, but he was going anyway, looking straight ahead. I noticed that he was wearing ear buds, obviously listening to an iPod. I began tapping the horn to get his attention, slowing down all the while, but the kid kept crossing. I kept tapping and slowing down until I came to a complete stop at the corner, where he walked right in front of my car without once glancing over at me or the car.

I always regretted not getting out of the car and yelling at him about what he’d just done. I guess I was afraid I’d end up scaring him, and I scare kids too much already. Plus I was late for work.

This stayed with me. As much as I like the idea of improving my environment by adding what I like best – music – to it. I feel like I’m missing something. While music adds to the environment, iPods take something away, too.

And I’ve had enough close calls with cars and such, that the last thing I ought to be doing is limiting helpful sensory input.
So I’m pro Ipod, but anti earbud.

Moreover, while I detest most of what I hear from passing car radios there is something valuable about hearing other people’s music. It provides us with an opportunity to share something, even if most of the time we just end up in a volume war.

So let’s play our music for each other. If we can avoid being obnoxious about it, we might learn something, instead of just being content in our own little worlds.