The 14th Annual Jaybee-bies: 2024, or Love Among the Ruins

Billie Eilish

You don't need me to tell you how f*cked up 2024 was. I'll try to identify some silver linings.  

Executive Summary:

Music: Pop music good, if not exactly in my comfort zone. Jazz, Blues, and Oldies wonderful. Weirdos thriving. (More to come on that).

Music/Personal: No longer striving for competence on guitar. 

Personal: Retired and grandfather of two. Getting old fast.

Politics: Everybody knows the war is over, everybody knows the bad guys won. Fascism is cool again, apparently. The young folks - men, mostly - let us down.

Humans:

Best:

• Jimmy Carter
• Adam Kinzinger
• Liz Cheney
• Many, many others who, in my current state, I just can't bring to mind. Feel free to write in some names.

Worst:

The ever-expanding "Usual Suspects", as I called them last year, make a repeat appearance here. I'll only make special mention of their Rookie of the Year, Nancy Mace, whose popularity confirms the existence of a new mini-industry busily producing Awful Women, like veterans Elise Stefanik, Nicole Malliotakis, Marsha Blackburn, Kristi Noem, and others. However, I will risk being accused of sexism by saying they'll never quite match the production of Awful Men. But keep up the bad work gals!

Best Books:

During this, my first year of retirement, my ambition was to "just lie down on the damn couch and read a f*cking book or two". 

And I did! I read all of the following books with great enthusiasm:

• A Distant Mirror by Barbara Tuchman: A remarkable history of Europe (mostly France) in the 14th century. 
• The Spy and the Traitor by Ben MacIntyre: A true-life spy story and a great one.
• Kitchen Confidential by Anthony Bourdain: A true-life restaurant story, and a very entertaining one.
• Consciousness Explained by Daniel Dennett: What's an "I", anyway? Mr. Dennett tries to explain.
• Karla's Choice by Ken Hardaway: John le Carre's son admirably continues the George Smiley saga.

The following are part of my World History Project, which has now reached the end of the American Civil War. I read a lot more than these five, but these are the best of the lot:

• The Good Lord Bird by James McBride: A hilarious and tragic retelling of the John Brown story.
• The Fiery Trial: Abraham Lincoln and American Slavery by Eric Foner: Notorious flip-flopper's views on slavery. 
• Battle Cry of Freedom by James McPherson: The entire Civil War, miraculously, in a single volume. 
• Team of Rivals by Doris Kearns Goodwin: Lincoln and his Cabinet. Possibly the best history book I've ever read.
• Lincoln by Gore Vidal: Vidal could be pompous in interviews and lectures but he did work his ass off to get his historical fiction right. I read this alongside Team of Rvals, and was in awe of his grasp of the details. And, like Burr, it's funny too.

Best Movies:

I did manage to get out and see a few movies, but the only one worth mentioning here is A Complete Unknown. What it may be lacking in specific details, it more than makes up for with Timothee Chalamet's performance (and performances). Ed Norton is also great as Pete Seeger. The music is pretty great, too.

Best TV:

• Somebody Somewhere
• I May Destroy You
• Insecure
• Bodkin

Best Concerts:

Still none. I'm still waiting for one that's worth time/trouble/$.

Music Awards:

Most Work (But Worth it): 

    Billie Eilish

Most Work (And Possibly Not Worth It): 

    The Dirty Projectors

Most Surprising (and Not Necessarily in a Good Way): 

    Nico

Best Nostalgia:

    Jimi Hendrix 

Best Artist:

    Daniel Nigro, producer of both Olivia Rodrigo and Chappell Roan

Best Albums of My Year:

1. Billie Eilish: Where Do We Go When We Fall Asleep? - The key to this young lady, and what eventually wore me down - is not the loopy sound effects (that's her brother). It's the songwriting that stays consistent from beginning to the very end.
2. Cannonball Adderley: Somethin' Else - NOT "worse" than Billie. Just a slower burn.
3. The Quintet: Hot House: The Complete Jazz and Massey Hall Recordings - Ditto.
4. Jimi Hendrix: The Cry of Love - Not a masterpiece. Just a very consistent (that again!) yet relaxed set of tunes with great guitar playing.
5. Chappell Roan: The Rise and Fall of a Midwestern Princess - I'll get to this at another time, but in short, she edges out Olivia by the sheer volume of hooks and emotion she brings to the table. Geez!
6. Olivia Rodriguez: Guts - A smart young woman. NOT worse than Chappell. Just a bit more professional sounding, which is both a plus and a minus.
7. The Chills: Brave Words - Another one for a later time. RIP Martin Phillips.
8. The Feelies: The Good Earth - "Only" rock n' roll and I love it.
9. John Cale: Paris 1919 - Professed weirdo plays it straight with lovely results.
10. Low: I Could Live in Hope - Just how depressed can you get? Find out here and come back alive.

Honorable Mention: Arto Lindsay, Fishermans, Steely Dan, Godspeed You! Black Emperor, Stars of the Lid, David Behrman, Elliott Smith, Beyonce

Best Compilations:

1. Muddy Waters: Anthology
2. Robert Johnson: The Complete Recordings
3. The Shirelles: 25 All-Time Greatest Hits 
4. Fats Domino: My Blue Heaven, The Best of...
5. Sir Warrior etc: Heavy on the Highlife!

The Album I Listened To Most but Had the Least to Say About It Due to Density (Mine, not the music's.):

Bach: Violin Concertos

Some of the best songs I heard this year can be found here.

Oh, and Mrs. Jaybee's Favorites:

1. Beyonce: Cowboy Carter
2. Billie Eilish: Where Do We Go When We Fall Asleep?
3. Gorillaz: Cracker Island
4. Bill Withers: The Ultimate Collection
5. Amy Winehouse: Back to Black

Conclusions:

Now with two granddaughters, I'm slowly beginning to understand what life is all about. I hope I'm not too late. 

Pop continues to grow - sometimes away from me. That's okay. I don't have to be in the middle of it. As long as I can find some electric guitar music - now a small sub-section of pop - I'll be okay.

Jazz and blues (and oldies, and older pop) will always be there to fill the gap. I was hoping to keep you informed about new stuff, but if old stuff is new to both of us what's wrong with that?

And finally, I have come to realize that most of my countrymen think a dictator is someone who is NOT popular. A little more education might have helped. One can only hope the bad guys form a circular firing squad.

Happy New Year!

Jimi

Ah, Jimi.

In 1967, you scared my young, white ten-(but in reality eighty)-year-old soul, with your (and Mitch's and Noel's) wild hair and even wilder music. The bent notes, sound effects, and suggestive lyrics (and suggestive music!) all put me off. 

I was a conservative Beatles fan and had strict rules for what was acceptable. Your hair could be long but not wild. Your clothes could be cool but not Dionysian (and no, I didn't know what that word meant and I'm still not sure, although the Olympics helped). And most importantly: you had to JUST PLAY THE NOTES. I could never quite put you in the pantheon because I suspected you were all show and no substance. 

And you looked nothing like that nice Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Yes, we did end up killing him even sooner than you, but you get my point. So for a guitar hero, better the admittedly paler (coincidence?) Eric Clapton who, well, just played the notes. And look how he turned out! 

I was sorry when you died but not devastated. Not like I was with John Lennon. You were one of those revered artists I couldn't bring myself to love. And yet, over the years your name kept popping up in conversations with friends, usually when yet another album of "newly discovered tapes" was released, albeit to less and less enthusiasm. Even so, everyone I knew - including my Mom - considered you a titan. 

After punk broke in 1977, when I learned noise had value, I began to suspect I may have missed something in 1967. So, in 1980, I broke down and began to buy your albums. 

Since I already knew most of the songs from Are You Experienced? I started with Electric Ladyland. (That record trip also yielded The River and Trout Mask Replica me being into double albums at the time.) With its vast swathes of material I'd never heard, it was a record I could immerse myself in. And I did! From the soul vocals of the title track to the hard jam of "Voodoo Chile" and the sheer beauty and majesty of "Burning the Midnight Lamp" and "1983 - A Merman Should I Be", and finished off by "All Along the Watchtower" and "Voodoo Chile (Slight Return)", it was studded with sublime moments. I would play it more today except it's on vinyl and thus a pain in the ass to put on. As with most double albums, it's not as consistent as single ones, but it's about the overall impact, and in that it is  marvelous. A

I'd heard Axis: Bold as Love at Childhood Friend Mike's house around 1968 and remembered the time passing quite pleasantly. But by 1981 I couldn't hum it if I tried, so it was time, and I found it nearly as warm and weirdly laid back (at least compared to AYE) as I'd remembered. There are rockers with great guitar playing, of course, but it was the vocals and drums that drew me in. And the songs! This one is my personal favorite - very rewarding and highly recommended. A

We got married in 1985, and on the way to church that day, I stopped at the record store to pick up Are You Experienced? (Okay, I made that up but you get the idea.) In one of the rare instances when I hear a record where I already know most of the songs, not only was I not let down by an anticlimax, I felt I was hearing it for the first time. A stunning debut, and one of the all-time greats. Jimi turns out to be a better guitar player, singer, songwriter, and human being than Eric Clapton would ever be.  A

Having finally absorbed these three core records, I was sated. Temporarily anyway. 

Cut to 2008 when I kept hearing about how - like the Beatles and Stones records before him, and Elvis Costello after him - the UK version of Experienced differed from the American one. Since CDs can contain about 80 minutes of music, many record companies (bless their hearts!) took the opportunity to re-release expanded versions of many such albums. Most of the time they include dross. In the case of the Beatles, however, we got the longer, usually better, UK versions. For Jimi, they included all the US cuts in their original sequence first, followed by the missing British songs. Oh, and also singles like fucking "Purple Haze". Better than the American version for the simple reason there's more of it. A

This reminded me of the daunting Band of Gypsies that Childhood Friend Eddie used to play on his stoop when it came out. I remember how tense and forbidding "Machine Gun" was. Now I felt ready for it, and it didn't disappoint. One good thing about Hendrix playing live is that you get to hear what he could do with a single guitar outside a studio. The mood here is more somber than before. He's got a different band, and he's taking the opportunity to explore a more brooding sound, at least for side one. Things get faster and louder on side two, but it's "Machine Gun" that stays with me. A-

That kept me satisfied for a while. Now it was time to dig deeper. The problem is that we're now dealing with all those posthumous releases some of which are just cash grabs. 

The Cry of Love (1970)

This record was assembled from what were deemed completed or almost completed recordings. Lucky for us they are high quality. It wouldn't always be that way.

After the supernova of his first three records, Jimi is merely human here, albeit one who plays great guitar. Having proven himself many times over, he now shows his more relaxed side. Like he has all the time in the world. But that was just for show, as the voluminous tape vaults can attest. 

So while there's nothing epochal here it is full of moments that show what a superb craftsman he could be. "Angel", "Night Bird Flying" and "Freedom" all being examples.

A good balance of guitar and songwriting from an artist who had more to give.

 A-

Rainbow Bridge (1971)

This also came out in 1971. And since producer/engineer Eddie Kramer was involved it's not a rip-off. The barrel scraping had not yet begun in earnest.

It's more raw than COL, which is fine, but it's also a little lightweight. It contains an inferior studio version of "The Star Spangled Banner", and an overly dramatic "Roomful of Mirrors". The songwriting is not quite up to par. 

The guitar playing nearly makes up for it, though. "Hear My Train A Comin'" is magnificent. Sounds like what "Voodoo Chile" would eventually become.

B+

The rest of Jimi's catalog is far too vast and plagued by bad faith - at least until the Hendrix family took over - to dive into head first. There appear to be many worthy live recordings, but since they are usually made up of familiar songs, I'm less inclined to try those.

So until something changes, I'll take another extended break. 

Who knows? Maybe next time I'll get to meet him in person.

Late Thoughts On Woodstock

Not Going Back:

I'm not goin' back to Woodstock for a while,
Though I long to hear that lonesome hippie smile.
I'm a million miles away from that helicopter day
No, I don't believe I'll be goin' back that way.

The quote above is from Neil Young's “Roll Another Number”, from Tonight’s the Night, and it pretty much sums up the mood of the entire album. It was 1973 and it was already clear to Neil that the sixties were never coming back. Always ahead of the times, he was already facing down the dark side of the seventies.

And that was over forty-five years ago.

Does anyone listen to Woodstock anymore? Aside from the odd cut played on Classic Rock Radio, probably not. I doubt that anyone pulls out the vinyl to play a side or two. Did anyone buy it on CD? Has anyone played it more than once since 1971?

It’s not an album that one is “in the mood for”.  What would that mood be? I feel like hearing a live album - one with lots of crowd sounds - and a lot of different bands because I happen to like them all, so a sustained mood is not what I want.  There is no such mood.  Not anymore, anyway.

You might put it on if you’re feeling nostalgic. Now there’s a feeling I’m not comfortable with. Neither was Neil, at least until he made Harvest Moon.

Woodstock came out in the Spring of 1970. I remember seeing it in the window of the local record store, right next to Let it Be. If the latter was telling us the sixties were officially over, we’d use the former to squeeze out whatever we still could from the decade.

As was usual, I didn’t own Woodstock, and so had to rely on friends to play it. And we’d never play it all the way through. We barely played one side all the way through. But we all loved it and listened to it incessantly that summer. But not after that.

For those reasons, it looked like it would turn into yet another of those records - my memory of which was incomplete to begin with - that would fade over the years. And, really, who wants to buy a triple album you’ve already heard before? But amazon $5 mp3s saved the day.  So I downloaded it and for the first time listened to it all the way through.





After all these years it’s more or less what I expected it to be. A long-ago favorite replayed to ever so slight disappointment now. That's okay. It still brought a tear to my eye at certain points.

But even the most nostalgic among us don’t want to spend too much time dwelling on the event, which we remember with a mixture of embarrassment and wonder. We’re too jaded to embrace it wholeheartedly. Plus it was a goddamn mess and who - except those who were actually there - can imagine themselves in that environment? (My hat’s off to you if you can.)

But it was an ideal momentarily realized. For all their faults, those hippies were a lot less destructive than the supposedly better-behaved yuppies.

I’m not sure how the baby boomers who experienced it - even second hand - square it with their current politics. By revising history, I guess. It must be slightly embarrassing to those who want to remember the fun part then and say, deny climate change now. We were so much younger then, we’re older than that now.

Maybe it’s best for all concerned to limit our attention to the actual music. So let’s take a look at this big sloppy mess of an album, documenting something that couldn’t possibly have happened.


Choosing Sides:

Side One doesn’t really quite kick off until Richie Havens provides a Defining Woodstock Moment with "Freedom", which pretty much overshadows everything else here. But song for song, it’s pretty good. Just all over the place. Which, I guess, is kind of the point.

I think the theme is the Pursuit of Freedom via Drugs. What a bad idea, right? We’ve since wised up and now escape reality via prescription meds.

Side Two starts off with another DWM: "The FISH Song", of course. In 1970, I was shocked that a record would actually have that word on it.

We listened to it a lot on a friend’s stoop over the summer.  One night, we had it on when someone noticed my dad approaching. He was on his way home from the corner bar and stopped to say hello - something he never did. We frantically tried to turn it off before he got to us and Country Joe got to f*ck. But in the confusion, we only succeeded in turning up the volume. He got there just as Country Joe was asking WHAT'S THAT SPELL?!?!  and the crowd answered F*CK!!!. It was probably the last thing he expected to hear, and so, he didn’t.

I’m trying to imagine/remember what we were thinking at the time. We were all pretty conservative, and if pressed on our opinion of the war we would have been strongly in favor of it. And yet we could still enjoy the song without getting offended, either because of the sheer gusto of the performance or the novelty of the cuss word. Then we’d go on our conservative way. I listen to this now and get chills.

And in walks Joan Baez, who is usually a major buzzkill. But I have to hand it to her. She brought the first tear to my eye with “Joe Hill” but that may just have been because it made me think of Phil Ochs.

Neil Young contributes the weird (for CSNY, and for Neil) “Sea of Madness”. It's generally regarded as a terrible song but I've always loved it. It's probably as funky and poppy as Neil ever got, and it gives CSN a little kick in the ass. (Y was haunting CSN even then, their second gig.) It's really the only CSN song that is "new" and not a waste of space.

The theme? The War. Oh and pushing that new supergroup. Things are so different now.

Side Three starts off with “Wooden Ships” which while offering nothing new musically that the studio version didn’t already, reinforces a theme of post-apocalyptic brotherhood. And Joe Cocker re-inforces the theme.

Theme: Fellowship? What the hell is that, anyway?

Side Four consists of Santana and Ten Years After who keep the energy level high.  I did have to put up with hearing how great a guitar player Alvin Lee was. Aside from Hendrix, the best one at Woodstock, people said. I wasn’t even sure he was the best guitar player on this side.

The Theme: Guitars, of course. Which are great, but politics-free, and thus the most likely to be played now.

Although Side Five kicks off with Jefferson Airplane, everyone knows it really belongs to Sly. And listening to it now, I could almost succumb to that dreaded nostalgia, it’s that powerful, Sly was able to rock a bunch of conservative white teenagers on that Brooklyn stoop.  It’s truly the high point of the record. This is the side that almost gets played all the way through. What the hell is John Sebastien doing after it?

Theme: Transcendence. How silly!

Half of Side Six is given over to a badly dated and mostly forgotten “Love March” by Paul Butterfield. And even though Hendrix saves it, we were really just listening to the “Star-Spangled Banner”. A shame, since he’s on fire throughout. But Hendrix is facing up to the war, which, despite every attendee’s wish, continued after the show.

Is the theme Resignation? Or acceptance of  Reality, such as it was?


For the Record:

Playing a three-record set all the way through is kind of exhausting to begin with, especially since I’ve heard it all before. If I owned it then, I could see myself doing it then, while everyone else got bored and started playing stickball, leaving me alone on that stoop. I’d be bored too, but that’s how I roll.

Once you wipe away the nostalgic haze of the sixties and the aura of the event, this holds up okay as an album, albeit one with many different artists and thus one without a consistent musical identity. There’s some music that doesn’t age well, and the crowd noise and announcements, while not helping to make a tight record, certainly help make an expansive document of an event.

And Woodstock was always about more than music. Which is why we don’t listen to it now.

B+

You Say Noise Like It’s a Bad Thing

“If you throw a garbage can down a stoop, and it sounds good, it’s music.”

Some original BS from jaybee.

And not the plastic ones, either - those old aluminum ones. And, in case you’re wondering, no, I didn’t invent the term Heavy Metal.

It was a long time ago, so I forget exactly how the conversation got to this point, but there I was discussing music (even then!) with a friend. He was an older gentleman – you know, in his forties - and a playwright. Believe it or not, he disagreed with me.

I guess someone who worked hard to craft every line of a play would think a similar effort would have to be involved in the creation of music. After all, how could something so random - so blatantly non-musical as a garbage can - even potentially have the same emotional impact via music as the most finely wrought prose? But I say you gotta focus on the result, not the process, and ignore the utter unfairness of it all.

And it’s just a theory after all. I don’t actually have any garbage-cans-thrown-down-the-stoop records (although I don’t doubt they exist) but I do have quite a few that come close. Check out the “drums” on Elvis Costello’s “Watching the Detectives”. The story goes that they used a garbage can. Perfect!

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Now playing: Elvis Costello - Watching the Detectives
via FoxyTunes

There used to be no greater insult you could hurl at a musician than to say that what they played was “noise”. This created an issue for those of us who liked any music created since 1963, and some would say 1956.

The logic went something like this:
1. Music is nice.
2. Noise is not nice.
3. Ergo, calling music noise is not a compliment.

This put many of us on the defensive. Our logic went something like this:
1. I like pop music.
2. Noise is bad.
3. Hence, the music I like is not noise.

I can see why we would feel this way, but it ignored certain things, like the tons of experimental music that came out even before this time. For the sake of argument, I’ll stick to pop music.

“You Really Got Me” by the Kinks was powered by a guitar connected to a damaged amplifier. When Dave Davies played the song with said damaged amp, he liked how it sounded. The song became a hit. Apparently lots of people liked it. ----------------Now playing: The Kinks - You really Got Me
via FoxyTunes

Then there’s the feedback that starts “I Feel Fine” by the Beatles. The Who. The Grateful Dead. The Velvet Underground. Jimi Freaking Hendrix (who, when I’d compare him to Eric Clapton back then, I’d criticize him for playing…guess what? Noise! )

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Now playing: The Beatles - Intro: I Feel Fine
via FoxyTunes

Now, you may think that the argument above still applies, that somehow, once the music becomes enjoyable, it ceases to be noise. But I say that sometimes music is noise, and/or vice versa.

My argument goes like this:
1. I like it.
2. It’s got noise.
3. Hmmm…..noise! Good!

Q.E.D.


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Now playing: My Bloody Valentine - I Only Said

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Now playing: My Bloody Valentine - Blown a Wish
via FoxyTunes

My 2008

The title of this Year End Roundup is more of a plea than a statement. My son’s and my wife’s 2008 music keeps intruding on mine. In 2007, it was Queen, Aerosmith and the Killers. This year, it’s Avenged Sevenfold and the Red Hot Chili Peppers.

So let them write their own entry. Here’s my year in music:

Loves:

None yet. It’s a shame that no music has indelibly stamped my year. But there was enough joy in real life to keep me going, so I’ll not complain. Besides, it’s when the going gets tough that the un-tough (me) go for their music. That’s when I’ll need it.

Highlights:

Nuggets: This four CD set Father’s Day present is the American version of the 1960’s British Invasion (okay, maybe a little later). Well, talk about your fun! There are not many “great songs” here, but there are a ton of “great records”. I still couldn’t tell you the names of 75% of them because not all of them have names like “Louie, Louie” and “Woolly Bully”, but most of them are in the same vein. Not for the pretentious.

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Now playing: The Turtles - Outside Chance
via FoxyTunes

Revelations:

Well, the Red Hot Chili Peppers, thanks to my son. He played their Greatest Hits for us and I was surprised how pretty it was. My original impression of them had been all energy and rhythm, but no melody or songs. I recommend this record or By the Way as a way of bonding with your annoying (not you, Mike) teenager.

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Now playing: Red Hot Chili Peppers - Venice Queen
via FoxyTunes

Likes:

The New Pornographers “Mass Romantic”: Neko Case’s striking “Fox Confessor Brings the Flood” led me to her other band, where she shows off her voice in a more chaotic pop setting. It can get to be too much, like a friend who’s had too much coffee, but when you’re in the mood – or had a few yourself - it’s quite a ride.

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Now playing: The New Pornographers - Mass Romantic
via FoxyTunes

The Flaming Lips “The Soft Bulletin”: This one’s got a lot of good tunes, but I still prefer the more spare, gentle Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots. But quite enjoyable.

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Now playing: The Flaming Lips - What Is the Light?
via FoxyTunes

Modest Mouse’s “Good News for People Who Like Bad News”: Or as I like to think of it, Bad News for People Who Like Easy Listening. With titles like “The Good Times are Killing Me” you’ve got to love this guy’s attitude. He sings how he feels and he doesn’t feel too great. But the guitars ease the pain, and his gentle side takes a bit of the edge off. They remind me of early Talking Heads, only from the Midwest. What?

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Now playing: Modest Mouse - The World at Large
via FoxyTunes

Finds:

Django Rheinhardt’s “Djangology” – This little $6.99 miracle effortlessly brings to you back to a time you never actually went through, except maybe by way of the soundtrack to the Little Rascals. But then that band didn’t have anyone playing an awesome guitar, violin or piano.

Discos Matador – Intended Play 2007, which was a free sampler from Matador records. My wife found this in my bag when I got home from the record store. I didn’t see the lady at the counter put it in. I was too worried about her reaction to what I bought. (As usual, she was totally unimpressed. Those sixty year old Russian women are awesome cool.) The ten or so bands, the high point among them Lavendar Diamond, range from good to excellent, and I’ll be looking forward to their other work.

Disappointments:

LCD Soundsystem’s “The Sound of Silver”: This 2007 “punk disco” Pazz and Jop winner is not a bad album, but I just don’t go to dance clubs, where I suspect it sounds fabulous.

My Morning Jacket’s “Z”: Strange as it may sound at this point, I don’t like this guy’s voice. It undermines some of his tunes, which aren’t bad, but rarely striking.

Challenges/Homework:

Burial’s “Untrue”: Well, I’ve listened to this 2007 electronica Metacritic winner about 20 times and still don’t think I hear it yet. It’s not bad – I’m just a little dense sometimes.

Steinski’s “What Does it All Mean?”: This is like a hip hop version of Nuggets. Steinski samples music and all sorts of other sounds and puts it all together for your dancing pleasure. Fortunately for me, I can sit and enjoy it anyway.

History:

Led Zeppelin-Long Story

Jimi Hendrix’s “Band of Gypsys”. We get to hear Jimi live, and find out that, hey, he really can play guitar, in case you forgot.

Christmas Gifts. Or Give Me Just a Little More Time!:

I like to experiment during the dark winter months. It’s a bad idea, but it’s me. This year’s no different.

Charlie Parker’s The Legendary Dial Masters: Quintessential jazz.

Music in My Head: Afropop

Ocean of Remembranc: Sufi music for meditation.

Le Tigre: Smart Ass Feminist Punk rock.

Wussy’s “Funeral Dress”: Right out of the box, the male/female vocals and electric guitar win me over. I think this one’s going to be a keeper.

So there you have it. You can now rest easy knowing how my 2008 was musically. Oh yeah, how about yours?

CD Hangover

Okay, okay, I know it was wrong, but I did it anyway - twice. At AA (or is it AAA?), they say that a slip is not a fall, but what about two slips? Am I officially off the wagon? Was I ever on it? It doesn’t matter. I needed a fix and I got it. I bought some more CDs.

I’d been clean since December, when I got four CDs for Christmas (actually five, if you count the one that was a two-fer). I usually try to work them in as gifts for birthdays or holidays. But this time, I offer no rationalization - I didn’t come from a broken home, I wasn’t abused as a child - I just buy CDs.

As if we’ve got the room. The big CD rack I bought not that long ago is just about full now. Does this mean I finally have to consider, gasp, pruning? No, of course not CDs. Family members.

And if you want to be technical about it, that CD I got in February counts, too. That was when I got “Are You Experienced?”. My son plays guitar and, well, he should know more about Jimi Hendrix, right? So it was for educational purposes. Just don’t mention this to my daughter. She likes show tunes.

But let’s just say that the first real slip was a BMG (let’s call them Enabler #1) order last month when we got six CDs. Now that may seem like a lot, but not when you buy into the whole logic of “the offer”. This particular one was a “buy one, get the rest for a buck each (plus shipping and handling).” So when you do the math, for each CD you buy, you come out more and more ahead. By now I should be a millionaire.

BMG is constantly tempting me in this way - every week a different enticement, each one harder to resist than the last. I do notice the occasional sucker offer - like “Buy 10 CDs and, well, get those 10 at full price (plus shipping and handling)”, but damned if I’m not tempted anyway. I know I can quit at any time, but that just wouldn’t be fair to the rest of the family.

So you’d think that would hold me for a while. But I couldn’t wait, not even for BMG’s state of the art order processing system, which has cut the average wait time from the 6-to-8 weeks of my childhood, down to 6-to-8 days. Not good enough - I had to have new music immediately.

Then I had an idea, which led to slip number two (or three). The way I figured it, this whole “educational” angle had a little more life in it. Since my son is now of record buying age, like many a father before me, who might otherwise bring his son to a bar for his first drink, or worse, I decided that it was time to take him to my favorite record store, where we could spend some quality time together. This used to consist of him hanging around a couple of hours while I went through the stacks. It turns out that this doesn’t alarm him like it used to, when he was, say, five. I take this as agreement. So in my book, that makes him Enabler #2.

Of course, I know the day is coming when he’ll tell me that he doesn’t buy CDs anymore. He downloads everything now, he’ll say. In only 6-to-8 seconds, no doubt. Of course, that’s when I throw him out of the house. That should free up some space. He won’t need it since all of his music will be in hyperspace.

So I pick up a couple of CDs at the store, and my son manages one – a Green Day CD – and we head home. But before I get a chance to play them, the BMG order comes in, and now there’s a bunch of CDs lying around that I can’t get to because now everyone’s watching TV, and my son’s listening to his Green Day CD.

So I go up to the bedroom and try to listen to them while reading. But you can’t really hear new music when you’re trying to comprehend what you read. I try anyway - at least until the third song, when I fall asleep. I do this every night for a week, and by now I’m pretty sick of those three songs. My wife comes up with the novel idea of starting with the fourth song, which only serves to remind me of how we nearly broke up early on in our relationship when she put on side two of an album before side one. It’s a matter of principle, I say. The exact principle doesn’t immediately come to mind, but I do mumble something about how you don’t start reading a book in the middle. I couldn’t say “watch a TV show” because we do that all the time.

So when everyone else goes to bed I go back down to the living room and put five CDs in the carousel player. I sit down on the couch to let it all wash over me, but soon find that I’m much more comfortable lying down, and by the time that third song rolls around I’m out like a light. I awake at 3am as the last CD finishes, no wiser than before, and have to get up for work in a couple of hours..

I may never hear this music.

But then, out of nowhere, on the drive to work, I hear one of the songs on the radio! How the hell did that happen? But now that I’ve spent money on it, maybe I shouldn’t be hearing it for free. I turn it off.

So I try the living room again, because for once the TV’s off, but now someone’s yakking on the phone and not fully appreciating this anticipated masterpiece. Or the fridge is rumbling, or the dog’s unclipped nails are hitting against the bare wood floor. Or. Life.

I have somehow convinced myself that by buying a bunch of CDs all at once like this, I can usher in a golden age of joy and good will. It did happen a couple of times. I’m sure you recall the great REM(“Murmur”)/Velvet Underground(“Loaded”)/Who(“My Generation”) raid in the summer of 1984, and the legendary Moby(“Everything is Wrong”)/Stereolab(“Emperor Tomato Ketchup”)/PM Dawn(”Of the Heart…”) buy in late ’97. Practically all of “why pay rent?” 1980!

But if pressed, I would have to admit that there are at least as many times when they just pile up until I get around to listening to them.

And what about these eight new CDs, you might ask? Well, I don’t know. I may have read some reviews that said they were great but alas, I’ve not had the chance to locate the greatness yet. I’ve obviously not played them enough. Come back to me in a decade or two.

The problem is that at any given moment in time, I may either want to listen to twelve of my CDs at once, or none at all. It’s the latter mood that prompts these CD trips. I don’t know why I never just opt for silence.

I guess I’ll make it through May, but something tells me that when I’m asked what I want for Father’s Day, I’ll be handing my wife a list of CDs.

I can’t be doing this. I’ve got kids to put through college. Well, for now, anyway...

The Time of Your Life

When I was about 13, an older friend – he was about 17 - turned me on to a lot of great music: Cream, Jimi Hendrix and a whole lot of other stuff. Then we lost touch for a while - actually we stopped speaking. The next time I ran into him, he must have been in his mid-twenties. He told me he had sold all of his old records, and that now he liked Neil Diamond.

Since this was in the late 1970s, we’re not talking about Neil Diamond, the young turk out of Brooklyn who wrote “Cherry Cherry” and “I’m a Believer”. I mean the one who forgot where he came from, and began wearing wide collars and big hair - the one who considered himself an Artist. I’m sure my old friend is listening to those records a lot these days.

Meanwhile, I just picked up “Are You Experienced?” on CD because my son kept asking me about Jimi Hendrix, who is doing a better job of uniting the generations through his music than any artist of my parents era. My point isn’t that I have better taste than my friend (though I do). And it isn’t quite that rock and roll has stood the test of time (though it has).

I guess my friend felt that he had to put aside childish things. I went through a similar crisis at age 15 regarding clothing (contemporary observers might conclude that the crisis has not yet passed…). I had noticed that the older boys – the seventeen year olds - were starting to wear “grown up” clothing. So, when I turned sixteen, I thought I should wear shoes instead of sneakers, and slacks instead of jeans. Well, that lasted about two days. Thank god I’ve never been very decisive.

Speaking of clothing, when I was around twenty five, another friend tried to get me to go with him to see Shirley Bassey. (This was 1982. I’m not that old.) I guess he figured that we were adults now, and so we should do something that required dressing up and stuff. I really owed it to him, too, since I’d dragged him to see everyone from the Ramones and Talking Heads to Warren Zevon. I must admit that part of the problem was that I didn’t even own a suit, let alone want to wear one. I don’t think my friend ended up going, and he has me to thank for that. Now, I have nothing against Ms. Bassey. All I had to go on was “Goldfinger”, so I wasn’t betting on enjoying the show.

This same friend once complained that he liked the song “It’s You, Babe” by Styx, because “at least you can hear the words”. One of my great regrets was not thinking of replying that some words aren’t worth hearing. Come to think of it, I’m not talking to this guy, either.

So, finally, my point is that you shouldn’t listen to - or not listen to - a certain type of music simply because of your age (or any other demographic for that matter.) If you’re afraid that people will laugh at you, I say let ‘em. They probably do anyway, and if they live with you, they’ve probably earned the right. My Monkees albums won’t make my all time greatest list, but if I feel like hearing them – and I do sometimes - they’re going on. (The problem arises when all you play are those same old Monkees albums, or when you buy the new one every time one comes out.)

I think some people deprived themselves of good music because they thought they were too old for it. I can’t say for sure how that first guy feels now. I do hope he’s enjoying the music he’s listening to, whatever it is. But I also hope it’s because he really wants to listen to it in the first place.

By now the second guy has probably opted for the type of pop music that "mature" people ought to be listening to. And he probably likes it, too. But I’ll bet he doesn’t love it.