Two Down, Forty-Eight to Go - Sufjan Stevens "Illinois"

Now is the time for all good men to come to aid of their fifty year old brothers and sisters by letting them know about great albums. You remember them, don’t you?

Albums were the novels of the sixties and seventies, and we used to live for the great ones, which seemed to be in plentiful supply at the time. The good news is that they still are. It’s just that with so many records being made now, and in so many different genres, finding the great ones very challenging. That’s one of the reasons for this blog – to help you find the needles in the haystack.

Sometimes, when I go into a record store like J&R, I look around at the thousands of albums around me and realize that I’ll never get to hear 99% of them. I’ll also be the first to admit that most of them either suck or just wouldn’t appeal to me. But even if that were true of 99% of them (and it isn’t) there would be more albums than I could ever get to know. So stop worrying about whether or not good music exists. It does. Let me help you find some.

The last great album I got was “Illinois” by Sufjan Stevens. My initial exposure to him was lukewarm. His covers of the Beatles “I’m Only Sleeping” and of Joni Mitchell’s “Free Man in Paris” were okay, so there was no reason to think I’d like his music. But there was “Illinois”, showing up on all sorts of top ten lists and, well, I caved.

And a good thing, too, because it turns out that it’s his own music that merits our attention. Armed with a fragile voice and what I have to describe as an orchestra with wings (you have to be there) “Illinois” is one of the most tuneful albums I’ve heard in years. It’s supposedly about the state of Illinois (sounds real promising, doesn’t it?), and with an album already out about Michigan, the remaining 48 states are apparently on his to-do list.

The album alternates between the very quiet and the orchestral. with several short musical interludes that unify the record. His whisper of a voice and insistent melodies do the rest.

He starts off very gently - maybe too gently - with “UFO Sighting”. (Since you could mistake the song titles for a lyric sheet, I’ve abbreviated them.) The pace ebbs and flows until it hits a plateau made up of one of the best song sequences on any album:

“Jacksonville”, where the woozy violin should be irritating, but is hypnotic instead.
“Decatur”, about a step mom who deserved better than she got.
“Chicago”, which may be the song of the decade.
“Casimir Pulaski Day”, a close second, about teenage love and cancer, which could have been sappy, but due to it’s understated delivery, is devastating instead.

By about now, I need a rest, but Sufjan keeps going. And about the only thing wrong with the remainder of the album is that it suffers slightly in comparison to what came before. And even here, we might disagree (“Predatory Wasp” or “Man of Steel” anyone?), since these songs would be considered high points on lesser albums.

In musical terms, the songs are pretty simple. Is that why they are so powerful? It could be because Sufjan is a master of the telling detail – the harmony on “Chicago”s line “I made a lot of mistakes”, the banjo on “Casimir Pulaski Day” or a dozen others.

I can imagine someone not loving his voice, or finding the orchestrations too busy, but I just can’t see someone disliking it. Give him a try, and maybe he can get around to your state.
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Now playing: Sufjan Stevens - Chicago
via FoxyTunes

The Secret, or at Least Underplayed, History of the Kinks

You’ve probably heard this a million times already, but that doesn’t mean that it isn’t true:

The Kinks were one of the best bands of the sixties, and Ray Davies was one of the greatest songwriters of the era.”

If left to radio airplay, the case would be based solely on some great early singles and “Lola”. The very respectable to somewhat annoying work they did in the seventies and eighties kept them in the public eye. My humble opinion is that the very stuff that makes the best case for them was somehow lost.

I find it amazing that people talk about how great the sixties were – something I’m a bit skeptical of myself – while overlooking, well, some of what made them great. I think these people are actually thinking of the seventies. (Math and History really ought to be emphasized more in schools, don’t you think?)

So let me help out here with my incomplete but very enlightening summary below:



Greatest Hits:

This is a very good 18 song intro, covering 1964-66, with all of the hits, and then some. Okay, so the Pretender’s version of “Stop Your Sobbing” is better. But “Where Have All the Good Times Gone?” gives the Beatles a good kick in the shins. A lot of fun.

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Now playing: The Kinks - Where Have All the Good Times Gone

via FoxyTunes




Face to Face (1966):

Ray Davies, having by now made a number of classic singles, seems committed to making quality albums. This one’s my favorite, and I consider it one of the great forgotten albums of the sixties. Wonderful songs all over the place. Don’t miss it.

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Now playing: The Kinks - Too Much on My Mind

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Something Else (1967):

Another great album, but very different from what anyone else was doing that year. Their most Kinks-like album, in its exploration of specifically English themes and styles, it’s less immediately accessible than “Face to Face”, but almost as good. It also continues their habit of loading up side one with the “friendlier” songs and putting the stranger stuff on side two. I highly recommend it.

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Now playing: The Kinks - David Watts

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Village Green Preservation Society (1968):

Again, totally out of step with current trends, celebrating rather than challenging tradition, and very, very English. Side two gets a little too precious, but side one is as good as anything they ever did. The cover shot has a fairly miserable looking Ray Davies on the right, either disapproving of everything else going on at the time, or just showing his frustration at not being more famous. I don’t blame him.

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Now playing: The Kinks - Johnny Thunder

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Arthur (1969):

There are only two great songs here (“Shangri-La” and “Victoria”, which are both on “The Kinks Kronikles”.) Ray Davies, perhaps knowing this, regrettably clutters up his music with horns. The band is quite game, though. A good album, but no more.

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Now playing: The Kinks - Victoria

via FoxyTunes




Lola, etc. (1970):

Don’t know - don’t have it, but the ones included on “Kinks Kronikles” are great. I'll pounce when the remastered version appears.




The Kinks Kronikles (1971):

At this point, they’ve switched record labels, so it was time for their old label to cash in with a greatest hits album. But since they didn’t have a whole lot of hits during this period, it instead turns out to be an overview of the prior five years, mixing singles with album highlights and great rarities. (How “She’s Got Everything” and “Days” only ended up tucked away here, I'll never understand). It’s quite special, and the ideal introduction to their wilderness years.

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Now playing: The Kinks - She's Got Everything

via FoxyTunes




The Great Lost Kinks Album:

As the album liner notes indicate, really a great lost album, assembled from various unrelated projects over several years. Although there are few songs here that would make their pantheon, it’s definitely worthwhile.


From this point forward, it’s clear that while Ray Davies would be capable of writing great songs, he was putting fewer of them on each album. By the time you get to Give the People What They Want:, they’ve lost me completely. Loud, not powerful. Crowd pleasing, not unique. The title is all too accurate in that they are now pandering, which is the last thing you want from the Kinks.


There are quite a few other collections around, but I haven’t found one that covers their entire career in a satisfactory way. Like with Dylan, the Beatles, and the Stones, it’s the “too many great songs” syndrome.

So, to sum up, consider getting:

Greatest Hits, if you want the early (1964-66) hits
Face to Face (1966), Something Else (1967), and Village Green (1968), in that order, for their peak period
Kinks Kronikles for the rarities and B-sides from that same period and the best songs from 1969-70.
Any compilation covering 1971 on, but you probably already know that.

And although I’ve focused mostly on Ray Davies himself, at every step along the way, he was more than ably supported by the band. They gave their all, fully committed to every one of his many flights of fancy. And to top it all off, his brother Dave wrote and sang some great songs himself.


After you’ve sampled some of these records I think you’ll be inclined to agree that it’s past time to give the Kinks their due. Raise your glasses for Ray and the boys!

The Secret, or at Least Underplayed, History of the Who

You remember the Who, right? When you were a kid, they did that cute single “Happy Jack”, and then they went away for a while. Then out of the blue, they did “Tommy” and the rest is history.

Well, not so fast. That’s the American Classic Rock radio version. Let’s dig a little deeper. Well, there was “Magic Bus” and “I Can See for Miles”, too, but that’s about it, right?

Well, no. And as much as I love “Tommy” and “Who’s Next”, I’d like to steal them from every radio station on earth for a few weeks, so they might be more tempted to play the records below. But they’re not going to do that, so it’s up to you.



Meaty Beaty Big and Bouncy:

This album is a major reminder that before they became “serious” and “heavy”, the Who were a singles band, and a funny one at that. This one is probably worth having, even if you get the individual albums, too, because some of the songs didn’t make it to an album.



The Who Sing My Generation

Here they are, young and rude. Punk rock doesn’t seem all that surprising when you take a look at these guys ten years prior to that. While they originated, like many another British pop band, doing covers of American R&B hits, we catch them here towards the end of that phase, with not one but two(!) James Brown covers. It also contains “The Kids Are All Right”, which I consider an even greater youth culture song than the title track, which is no pushover. There are several other excellent Pete Townsend songs that I only got to know in 1984 when I finally bought this. Highly recommended.



A Quick One:

Not quite as strong as the debut, but with the wonderful “A Quick One (While He’s Away)” – Pete Townsend’s first stab at a rock opera - and “Happy Jack”. Even most of the non Townsend numbers are good. Definitely worthwhile.



The Who Sell Out:

My favorite Who album (yes, even better than “Tommy” or “Who’s Next”). It may be my all time favorite by anyone. If you can relax and settle down to enjoy the concept, which is a simulation of an AM radio station as they existed in the mid-sixties – commercials included - you will then begin to notice how great the songs are. “Tattoo”, “Odorono”, “Sunrise”, “Relax”, and “Rael” are amongst their very best songs ever. You will even notice bits of “Tommy” starting to form. On the reissued CD, there are ten good to excellent bonus tracks added, but the original “core” album is where the true brilliance – not to be confused with seriousness - lies. Absolutely essential.



Magic Bus On Tour:

NOT a live album, just a stop-gap between “Sell Out” and “Tommy”. All of the really good songs appear elsewhere, and if the CD reissues of the other albums continue to offer bonus tracks, this one becomes virtually unnecessary. Don’t bother.




So there you are - several vital early chapters of Who history that I hope will give you a more complete picture of their overall career, and convince you that they were even greater than you thought they were.



These days, whenever I hear Pete Townsend cashing in yet again on the same old material, and with an even bigger line of bs than before, I relax and think back to these records and remember the hero of “A Quick One”, who at the end, says You are forgiven!

The Evil That Men Do, Part 3 - Drive Bys

During the coldest days of January, the prospect of summer will elicit a momentary nostalgia for open windows and soft breezes, but I am rudely disabused from any such reverie - usually in late March - by a much grimmer reality: drive bys. You know what I mean - the practice of blasting one’s car stereo, for the supposed benefit of home owners and passer-bys. It’s the equivalent of me living in my car, and driving through your neighborhood all the time.

Now my neighborhood is more likely to build a statue venerating, say, Franki Valli rather than John Lennon. Over time this preference has evolved to the current dance music, and the drive-bys here tend to reflect that.

The problem was recently exacerbated with the installation of a traffic light at the corner nearest to my house. I should be thankful that the neighborhood children are safer, but then again, aren’t they the ones who will just grow up to do the driving by in a few years? The true impact of this (meaning how it affects me personally) is that now the cars are no longer just driving by. They are stopping to wait for the light to change. I suppose that the increased amount of exhaust fumes ought to be of concern to me, but I’ll leave that to someone whose priorities are straight. I now get to hear entire verses of the hits of the day, right through my front window. I’m missing the upside to this.

And yet, there’s an even worse variation on this theme. Some of my fellow fifty year olds – with their tastes frozen in time – are now participating in this practice. I recently had the misfortune of sharing the road with the driver of a 1985 Cadillac with Jersey plates. He was tailgating and blasting his radio even more than I usually do. Rather than retaliate in some way, I felt the need to learn more about this man, so I tried to keep up. About an hour later, I finally got a glimpse and a listen. He was about my age, with his graying hair combed into a pompadour, and the song was Billy Joel’s “Movin’ Out”. I concluded that he was still living with his mom. (Shouldn’t you only play “Movin’ Out” if you’ve actually moved out?)

Of course, there are those who still play Barry Manilow or Celine Dion in this manner, but let’s face it - they’re beyond our help right now.

In my neighborhood’s first bid for cultural diversity, the guy across the street has started to blast his radio when working on his motorbike. It’s usually “Take it Easy” or “China Grove”. I tell myself that it could be worse. It could be “Free Bird”. (Oh wait, there it is…)

Of course, when I’m out there driving myself, I feel I must do my part to offset the bad affects of what I’ve had to hear, by adding my own preferred music to the mix. I realize that this might appear hypocritical of me, bur really, the only other alternative would be for me to build an automatic egg-thrower that targets sources of noise near the house - itself a toned down version of another revenge fantasy deemed even more anti-social by family members who’d like me to stay out of jail.

So when you see me driving by, blasting some ungodly noise that I feel you need to hear, just think about all the eggs I’m saving.

The Evil That Men Do, Part 2 - Gift Giving

When it comes to the holidays or a birthday, we all agonize over what to get that special or not so special someone. I suspect that we all fall back on certain types of gifts. After all, kids buy their dads neckties (definitely NOT a hint), so it should come as no surprise that I would fall back on music. My wife attributes it to a lack of imagination. I’d argue if I could think of something.

For the most part, my friends would never be so presumptuous as to reciprocate. They probably feel that I can be presumptuous enough for the all of us.

On the surface of it, I sincerely think I can find something that the person will enjoy. Of course, if someone tried this on me, I’d be annoyed. I mean, really, how dare they (do exactly what I would do)? We all have delusions about being good at certain things. Mine is that I can impart good music to my poor friends, who in fact, were perfectly happy with their music before I got involved. So a little deeper down, I suspect I’m just trying to show off. (What, I wonder? That I have no taste?)

It’s great when the recipient actually makes an unsolicited positive comment about the gift. Occasionally I’ll get a rave (Graham Parker’s “Heat Treatment”, or Squeeze’s “Singles on 45”) but most often I’ll get the essentially non-committal “It was good” (which means It wasn’t worth the effort of going over to the stereo to smash it into a million pieces.) And sometimes I get no reaction at all, which usually translates to Let’s not speak of this again. This might have been Brian Eno, which is a shame, because that record (“Another Green World”) is still one of my absolute favorites. But maybe you need to know that.

Still further down is a presumption not only about the recipients taste, but about the recipient him or herself. I’m telling them I know you. I know what you like. Therefore, I know what you will like. I’ve got your number. I’ve got you figured out. Who the hell wants to feel like they’ve been figured out?

So I’ve recently hedged my bets a little by moving from pre-recorded CDs to mix CDs. This gives me the chance to mess with the variety and pacing. It also gives the recipient a break in case they totally hate a particular artist. It’s also a little less insulting because it says These are some of the songs I’ve heard recently that I like. You may like some, too, so you take it from there. This is far more modest. And it’s an invitation to let someone figure you out. Hey, whose idea was this, anyway?

On the few occasions I’ve gotten mix CDs, it’s been…problematic. If I was worried about people figuring me out, I’m past it now.

Lately, there’s been the fad of making mix CDs to give out as wedding favors. In theory, this would appear to be pretty sound, but the result is usually a lot of sentimental crap. Who the hell wants to hear a bunch of sappy songs about people in love? It’s almost as bad as having them over for dinner. I’d much prefer that people made such CDs with themes like “What I Happened to Be Listening To While Considering Suicide” or “The Music They Piped in at Rehab”.

As a matter of fact, I will be writing to my congressperson, recommending legislation that says if you gave out a mix CD at your wedding, you are now required by law to make one for your divorce. Now that would be a good CD.

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Now playing: Graham Parker & The Rumour - That's What They All Say
via FoxyTunes

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Now playing: Squeeze - Up The Junction
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Now playing: Brian Eno - Everything Merges With the Night
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The Evil That Men Do, Part 1: Music for Captive Audiences

Why do we do this to each other? Why do we insist on inflicting our music on each other - in our homes, in our cars? Once you enter someone else’s living space you’re subjected to their taste. It’s just a matter of how strongly they insist on imposing it on you.

You do it to me because you assume everybody must like what you’re putting on. It’s a big hit, so normal people should like it. A big enough hit to penetrate the personal and professional smog you’ve surrounded yourself with by having a family and job. The CD is something we’ve all heard of, so there’s no presumption on your part in putting it on. In fact, you’re being nice. It’s like you put out a plate of nachos.

My motives aren’t so pure. With me, everything’s got to be edifying. I can’t just put on what you already like. As a matter of fact, I probably don’t have it. I’ve heard it too many times already, and probably don’t like it nearly as much as you do anyway. So what do I do? I put on something that I like that I’m just sure you’ll like, too - because I’m good like that.

When I do it to you, sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn’t. Or should I say, sometimes it works. Three examples that come to mind:

The Chills “Submarine Bells”

Badly Drawn Boy “Hour of the Bewilderbeast”

Sufjan Stevens “Illinois”

All of these got very positive reactions, and it’s easy to understand why. They are very melodic, with pleasing, but non-abrasive textures. You can have dinner to them.

Some of my other attempts have not been so successful:

Nico (Eva Braun singing Jackson Browne)

Pere Ubu (Nico, during the fall of Berlin)

Captain Beefheart (words fail me).

I resigned myself (around the time of my wedding) not to play these records around guests anymore.

And I now know not to put on a brand new CD (Jonathan Richmond’s “Jonathan Sings!”) on when people are helping you out with painting or moving. This is definitely one of those occasions when you just have to turn over control of the stereo to them - especially if it’s me.

If you’re having a party, you can tell people to put on whatever they like (although I’d sooner they helped me with the barbequing), but just so they don’t actually take you up on it, make sure you’ve got the CD changer filled and playing, and keep plying them with another beer.

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Now playing: The Chills - Heavenly Pop Hit
via FoxyTunes

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Now playing: Badly Drawn Boy - The Shining
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Now playing: Sufjan Stevens - Casimir Pulaski Day
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Morning Music

It’s Saturday, or Sunday morning, around seven am, maybe even six.

You find yourself getting up earlier and earlier as the years go by. This is something old men do. (Old women have far too much sense.) You might even venture into the front yard to pull up the weeds. That’s fine - just don’t put on the white tube socks.

Anyway, you’re the only one up, and you’d like to hear some music, but don’t want to disturb anyone. You’re considerate like that. So, what to put on? The records below should be more than enough to get you to when someone else wakes up. There are definitely others that fit the bill, but these are the ones that have worked for me lately.

Really, Really Early, and Just for You: Yo Yo Ma – Bach’s Six Suites for Unaccompanied Cello

My nearly complete lack of knowledge about classical music doesn’t stop me from recommending this 2 CD set. I will merely attempt avoiding complete embarrassment by not trying to describe the music in any way, except to say that the title is accurate, and that it will help you feel like a civilized human being again, assuming you need a little shoring up in that department.

You don’t need to play the whole thing in one sitting. It’s just there for you when you need it.

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Now playing: Johann Sebastian Bach - Prelude
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Early, But the Neighbors Won’t Mind: Miles Davis – Kind of Blue

You’ve been telling yourself that you’d like to explore jazz a little more, because deep down you know that it can’t be that crap they play on those “quiet storm” stations.

Since I do enjoy improvisation - I was a big Grateful Dead/Allman Brothers/Cream fan - jazz should have been a natural for me, but it wasn’t. The problem was that I either didn’t like or wasn’t familiar with the songs that they were improvising from. I had totally missed the boat on the “classic American songbook”. To this day, I need the wife to name the standard we were just listening to. Since jazz musicians used these same standards as a starting point for their improvisations, I didn’t know what they were improvising from, which is what is supposed to be what makes it fun. Everything I heard just sounded like empty technique.

A jazz musician I used to know (that last phrase might sound very cool to fellow white fifty-ish middle classers, but it gets uncool real fast when he owes you rent money) recommended “Kind of Blue”.

There are no standards here, just very minimal themes that any rock and roll fan can get a handle on. They’re played in a very cool, almost laid back way, so you can take your time getting into them, and it leaves a lot of space for the musicians to stretch out. The overall quiet tone also makes it ideal early morning music, even when John Coltrane gets going.

The jazz train starts here.
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Now playing: Miles Davis - So What
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Time for a Human Voice: Nick Drake – Five Leaves Left

Nick Drake is a not very well known British folk singer from the early seventies. What distinguishes him from many others is that it’s not just Nick strumming a guitar. And although Richard Thompson provides a perfect electric guitar accompaniment to the lead off song, “Time Has Told Me”, I think that the key instrument here is the piano. Then there are the strings which are used at just the right times, and give a jazzy or even classical, rather than a sappy, feel to the music. This may sound rather awful in your mind’s ear, but in fact, its muted tone and modest singing make it perfect for 7 or 8am.

And although Nick helped me through many a morning, he himself didn’t make it, committing suicide after recording only three albums. I’m now considering breaking my “One CD per Artist” rule in order to check out the other two.

So hats off to Nick. If I drank at that time of day, I’d toast him.
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Now playing: Nick Drake - Time Has Told Me
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I’m Now Ready to Confront Yesterday, and Maybe Today: Beck – Mutations

Speaking of drinking, this one is probably pretty good for a hangover.

And no, he's not Jeff Beck. Just Beck, of 1995’s “Loser”. You know the one: “I’m a loser, babe, so why don’t you kill me?” Very uplifting stuff. Actually, he’s hilarious, and for his first two albums he uses an everything-but-the-kitchen sink / hip-hop approach to rock music. There are some great moments on both albums but I don’t recommend them to us older folk because of their overall abrasiveness.

The third times a charm, though. For some reason, Beck decided to tone it down with the sound effects, pick up an acoustic guitar and write some actual songs. The results are wonderful. Folky, bluesy, elegiac (like that word? So do I. I’ll have to look it up.)

Things don’t get loud until the very end, but let’s face it - you’ve been up all this time. Why the hell isn’t everyone else?
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Now playing: Beck - Nobody's Fault But My Own
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Listening Skills

So you bought a new CD and now you’re just putting it on. Don’t just sit there doing nothing, waiting for it an epiphany. Go do the dishes or something. If the CD’s good, it will get your attention. And maybe not the first time, either. Sometimes you have to just give it time. Some of my all time favorite albums didn’t hit me until listen six. A couple, even later than that.

Listen to your inner cheapskate who is telling you I just spent x dollars on this thing, I’d better invest at least a few spins in it. If you’re the type who spends good money on a CD and then puts it away after one listen, you obviously have way too much of it. Stop buying music, and give the money to charity. I’ll include my address.

The reason I’m going on about this is that you could very easily dismiss a perfectly good CD because you are in one mood and the CD is good for a completely different one. So it’s important to find the right time play it.

First, don’t open a new CD by an artist you don’t know, and then play it during “family time”. It’s the “No Soul Coughing at Dinner Time” Rule. I came to love their CD “Ruby Vroom” but it really didn’t work for the wife and kids at that moment. (It kicked in big time on a Walkman during a long train ride, though.)

Then there’s the right time of day. This is very subjective, since it has a lot to do with whether you’re a morning or an evening person. If when you first wake up, you can’t decide to use the razor to shave or slit your wrists, you probably shouldn’t put on Meat Loaf (music or food) at 7am. If you are a little more chipper than that, and think ML would be cool at that time, as one ex-girlfriend did, you should probably stop reading this now anyway. If you live next door to me, you’ve probably heard from me already.

Some CDs are great in the morning, like Miles Davis’ “Kind of Blue” or Nick Drake’s “Five Leaves Left” because of how they can gracefully ease you into the day. These same CD’s may seem a bit draggy by mid-day when you have to be somewhere and you’re still waiting for the artist to get dressed.

Time of the year is important too. I like tuneful pop and energetic electric guitars during the summer, as a way of fending off the heat and humidity. I don’t recommend being too adventurous. You want something that will bear you up while the sun is beating down on you. It should probably be either very familiar sounding or just plain pleasant. After all, it’s hot as hell out there. But that’s me. I once played Peter Gabriel’s third album (you know, the one about torture, war and assassination…hmm…maybe this isn’t helping) for a captive audience on a beautiful summer day while driving to a Mets game. The only reason I survived was that everyone was too depressed to beat the sh*t out of me. The Mets lost, too. I like the album a lot, but it’s definitely for the winter.

The autumn is for more song oriented albums. Less flash, more texture and depth. The more melancholy the better. Break out those minor chords! But nothing too heavy. Summer’s just finished fer chrissakes! In the late fall, as the holidays begin, I find myself listening to music that I had listened to before at this same time of year. It really brings back the memories, and can put you in the holiday mood without having to listen to a bunch of Christmas songs you’re totally sick of. The important thing, though, is to get something new so that you will remember this year, too.

Winter (after Christmas) is for experimentation. I’m hibernating anyway so I don’t want anything too happy or uplifting. I may have asked for a boxed set for Christmas (“The Complete History of Depressing Music”). The windows are shut tight and it’s kind of quiet. Everyone’s in bed. This is good, because I may have another Soul Coughing on my hands.

Spring depresses the hell out of me for some reason (perhaps the music I’ve been listening to for the prior three months?), so I need music that heals whatever imaginary wounds I’ve inflicted on myself. This is a very hard quality to pin down. The music should be soothing but not boring. The one that worked best for me is Yo La Tengo’s “I Can Hear the Heart Beat As One”. But for those of you who prefer to sit back and enjoy your depression, I suggest Wilco’s “Yankee Hotel Foxtrot”, which I spent several months listening to, to the exclusion of all else. Sometimes the healing just has to wait.

You can probably think of your own favorites that are specific to a time of year or a time of day. When you try to place them in a different context, they just don’t work as well. You don’t have ice cream for breakfast, and you probably don’t have cereal at night, so why wouldn’t you have similar needs or preferences when trying to nourish your soul?

Now go and enjoy your new music.

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Now playing: Soul Coughing - Casiotone Nation
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Now playing: Peter Gabriel - Biko
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Now playing: Yo La Tengo - The Lie and How We Told It
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Now playing: Wilco - I Am Trying To Break Your Heart
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An Old Fogey's Guide to Music Critics

All right, I said the unsayable in a prior posting. But I said it and I’m glad. There’s nothing wrong with using critics as a source of information, and, indeed, even opinion. It’s just that you have to bear in mind that what they say is subjective. Think of every sentence they write as being preceded with the phrase “My opinion is…”. After all, if he hates something that you like, does that mean you’re wrong? Of course not, unless he’s me.

Their opinions are like landmarks that tell you how far away you are from your own destination. If someone you agree with a lot raves about a new CD, you might be close to land, it’s just that you may never go anywhere different.

So, here are some of my suggestions for using critics:

Ignore most of what they have to say. Look for enthusiasm. Everything else, including good reviews, is just an autopsy.

Even a positive review can reveal that the writer hasn’t really lived with the CD. A lot of them just slap it on, and if it passes the time, they will tell you that it’s fine. But that’s a load of crap, because they get their CDs for free, and you have to pay for yours. Plus, they’re getting paid for this, so they can afford to waste a lot of time. You’re not. You have a real job.

AMG is a great informational resource, but sometimes the reviews simply summarize the common wisdom. What you need is a unique voice that reflects thought and passion, even if you don’t agree with everything they say.

When a new CD comes out that everyone is raving about, just wait until the commotion dies down, it’s not going anywhere. The world is full of impatient idiots who just have to see a movie the day it comes out. There’s always another, better DVD you can rent. It’s the same with music. All of the CDs worth owning didn’t just come out today.

If you can hold out, wait until you see some year end lists and polls. Personal lists are good for gauging the critic. Polls are better for actual CD choices, since it balances out the various tastes of individual critics. But then again there is the overall thrust of the poll itself, which carries with it it’s own emphasis on certain genres, etc. You can weigh things like the source of the poll and the cross-section of voices. If you despise rap music, maybe you shouldn’t buy the Source’s pick for CD of the Year. Dip in for a while. Find out if they’re your kind of people. If so, you can use it as a guide, but only as a guide!

When you find critics who actually seem to listen closely, and think about what they are listening to, and who say something thoughtful, then you should consider checking out one of their recommendations.

And since nothing is ever certain, you just may not like it. Don’t fret. It’s not a conspiracy, it’s just a learning process. You’re placing them on your map. If you always agree with a critic, one of you is a wimp. I’ve even used certain critics whose tastes differed so drastically from mine to get interested in music that they hated. (Yes, there are some idiots out there whose negative review can only increase my interest in a CD. No, I’m not too spiteful…)

One thing to keep in mind about critics who seem dismissive of something you like a lot: they hear a lot of music. Maybe the band that sounds new and fresh to you sounds like a hundred other bands they’ve already heard. This does not mean that your response is invalid. It just means that you can judge originality better when you’ve gotten a better grasp of the overall landscape. If you haven’t heard music like this before, then it’s fresh to you. So enjoy the music, but you might want to check out whoever the critic thinks is being ripped off/imitated.

So in sum, critics are people, too. They have tastes, prejudices and blind spots. They sometimes think they are stating fact when they are only giving their own opinion. The worst ones murder to dissect, substituting analysis for feeling, and logic for what, against all logic, works. But the best ones open you up to something you might never have tried, and help you love music again.

So now you have a healthy (dis)respect for the role of the critic and the way they can help guide you through the morass of current pop music. This does not mean that you’re obligated to admit it in public, however. It’ll just be our little secret.

We Like Our Guitars

The following is meant to explain why you’ve hated my recommendations or violently disagreed with my opinions up to this point. I’m concerned that you might be losing some sleep over this, so I feel it necessary to assure you that there’s nothing wrong with you.

It’s not you, it’s me. I (still) like guitars.

A friend and I were talking music the other night. I was saying how my son liked a lot of the music that I liked when I was growing up. Thanks to Guitar Hero, it was easy for him to get “classic rock”. Young people – well, white fourteen year old boys, let’s say – seem much more open than we ever were to music that isn’t from their own time period.

You’d think people who grew up in the sixties would be very open, but I’ve come to the conclusion that we never had to be open to anything. It all came right to us. It helped that AM radio was amazing. Just turn it on and feel the love! It spoiled us, so by the time the seventies rolled around, we really didn’t like anything else. And radio also began to get more and more rigid about what it would play.

It didn’t help that I reacted to the disdain people had for rock and roll by being disdainful right back. So the music my parents liked was out. The Beatles ruined just about everything else for me, so I found “oldies” music to be totally lame. My friend agreed. We liked what was happening at the time, and not much else.

Then he told me that he never really got Elvis. This came as somewhat of a relief, because I felt the same way for a long time. It was only as an adult (and I use that term loosely) that I got into “The Sun Sessions”, “Elvis’ Gold”, the “comeback” special. The rest of it just reeked of Vegas to me. My favorite was “The Sun Sessions”. Why? Well, there are a lot of reasons, but the one that’s most pertinent at the moment is Scotty Moore’s guitar.

So it came to me - we like our guitars. All the other stuff is nice – a pretty melody, an energetic beat, a good vocal, smart or funny lyrics (assuming I even get them, being that I’m obtuse and hard of hearing). But guitars are king. Horns are fine, but there’s just no comparison. Thank you Les Paul, Beatles, Stones, Who etc. You ruined me for anything else.

A childhood friend of mine liked Slade (“Mama, We’re All Crazy Now”) a lot. At the time, my problem with them was that all of their songs sounded the same. He replied, “You know there’s only so many different sounds you’re going to be able to get out of an electric guitar.” Well, that worried me for quite a while. But after thirty five years, I’ve gotten over it. Every time I think that the whole form is played out, somebody comes along to point out the limits of my imagination. It’s great to have your expectations trashed like that.

So, even though I’m fifty years old, my tastes have not grown up in a conventional way. Just when I was succumbing to mid-seventies singer-songwriters, which would have led to a natural progression to MOR, I suddenly got interested in punk rock and its variants. This setback to my musical (and emotional) maturity has never been fully corrected.

Okay, so that gets me to the age of forty. What’s my excuse for the next ten years? The answer lies in not getting stuck in a rut. I’ve been dabbling in other genres for quite a while. This not only brings me in contact with new types of music, it makes my familiarity with rock and roll avoid breeding contempt. I can get away from rock and roll long enough to miss it again.

I don’t like music that is meant to act as a background. It should be my option to use it that way, but it must be able to bear more attention than that. So I don’t find Easy Listening easy to listen to at all. And the overly emotive singers and huge orchestrations just don’t do it for me. To me, Bonnie Raitt’s simple “I Can’t Make You Love Me” or “Feels Like Home” blow away anything by Celine Dion. Maybe I just don’t like having emotions conveyed like the national anthem. Let’s not even discuss Michael Bolton…

So, for better or worse, that’s where my taste lies, which should tell you if I have anything to say to you or not.

So I hope this helps explain where I’m coming from: the inside of Pete Townsend’s Marshall amp.

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Now playing: Elvis Presley - That's Allright (Mama)
via FoxyTunes

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Now playing: The Who - Summertime Blues
via FoxyTunes