2020 Etceteras

Leftovers, effluvia, whatever you want to call them these are the records from my last musical year that never got mentioned.

New Order: Power, Corruption, and Lies (1983) 

My first New Order album (Substance) was also one of my first CDs ever and gave me my first taste of CD abundance. I was just then learning that the typical CD held almost twice as much music as a typical vinyl album, and Substance was a two-CD set! Each CD held twelve cuts, many of which were extended versions of songs. So here I was with 24 songs, each running an average of six minutes long.

And I haven't caught up since!

NO sprang out of the ruins of Joy Division, and sounded quite a bit like them (doomy, droney pop music) for a while, but then blended it with dance music, retaining the best of both worlds. 

This one came out while they were on the cusp of that change. They're not quite out of their Joy Division phase, and not yet the dance music monsters they would become.

And it's just what you'd expect from them. Nothing quite brilliant but nice nonetheless. They were miles ahead of the other synth-pop bands in terms of their singer who, while he couldn't actually sing, at least didn't whine. And a band that didn't try to attempt soul music.  The guitar is my favorite blend of density and lightness - it makes loud noises but doesn't overstay its welcome. The bass is Right. Out. Front. and could pass as a guitar (or drums for that matter.) And the keyboards never take on that tacky synth sound of the early eighties, and thus age well.

"The Village" is a masterpiece of rhythm. (They're white and British(!) so I'm marking on a curve.)

I wouldn't have a clue as to where this one stands in their catalog but it is a very solid album.

B+

"Your Silent Face"

of Montreal: Hissing Fauna, At You the Destroyer? (2007)  

Initially, this was way too preening - a weird combination of 10cc, ELO, and Phoenix, but it has since grown on me. Headphones helped. I could hear the oomph. 

There's a ton of detail here, and what keeps it from getting too fussy - at least for a while - is the commitment in the singing and playing. And it's there. It only gets to be too much (or not enough) about two-thirds of the way through. 

B+

"The Past Is A Grotesque Animal"

Bad Bunny: XPRE-1000 (2019)

Funny story. I thought I was buying Beach Bunny and got this by mistake.

There are subtle differences.

Here’s Beach Bunny.

And here’s Bad Bunny.

HAVING. SAID. THAT. This is not terrible. Good vocals - if autotune is being used, it's not overly obvious.

The beats vary somewhat. This is a very good thing for those of us who don't normally listen to this type of music. (Nice of him to consider the 60+ demographic.)

The melodies are not too intricate or complicated. Just enough to keep you listening. The accompanying instruments are well placed and not overbearing. I even heard the odd word or two in English.

I even heard something that could be construed as rock music if the guitars were slightly louder. Touche!

It flows. It’s not too harsh. What’s not to like? A bit one-note, though.

Jaybe Niece Sara - a Bad Bunny fan - finds the whole thing hilarious.

B+

"Ni Bien Ni Mal"

The Avalanches: Since I Left You (2006)

An amalgam of snippets of other records and sounds. In other words a kitchen sink record. 

Kind of fun, kind of a lark. Kind of the opposite of DJ Shadow. Nothing profound or dark here. Which is kind of the problem. These types of records have to have a few brilliant moments or it's hard to take seriously. This one flows by and you hum to it, but that's all. But there are worse ways to spend your time.

B+

"Since I Left You"

And there are the jazz records that got even shorter shrift: 

Bill Evans: 12 Classic Albums

John Coltrane: The Classic Collaborations 1957-1963

The Modern Jazz Quartet: The Final Concert

And the classical Schubert and Tchaikovsky/Mendelsson records that will come up in a later 

segment of the World History Project.

The front door of my brain is obviously too narrow so I'll just pile them into my work PC and let them play all day, and thus sneak in the back door. 

Which leaves....

2021 To-Dos:

• Attend the Inauguration.
• Catch up on all those records above.
• Beethoven 
• Catch up again on pop music. 

Music Even I Can Dance To

Denial:

Remember how disco sucks?  If you do, then I’ll ask that we instead speak of dance
music. 

Back in the day, I hated disco as much or more, than the next (white, straight) guy.  Being
a very serious person, my music had to be serious, too.  No fun allowed.  Fun included
dancing, which wasn’t allowed the moment “Dancing in the Streets” finished playing. 

I had my way for a few years when all those singer-songwriters came from out of the
woodwork, but then all of a sudden, another crowd began having a great time doing
something I couldn’t (dance) or wouldn’t (dress up) do.  Obviously disco - oh, sorry, 
dance music - had to be stopped.

I’m not saying that the music didn’t drive me up the wall.  That big, steady beat seemed
to be aggressively stupid.  Hey, what can I tell you?  I’m a snob. 

Looking back now, I’m sure that disco has as good a batting average as any other music
genre for having something interesting to say, even if it appeared to be designed to avoid
saying it at all costs.  My personal taste prevented me from perceiving or even
experiencing a lot of it.


Bargaining, Depression, etc:

Cut to 1979, and I’m listening to “I Zimbra”, the opening track from Talking Heads “Fear
of Music”, a record I deemed somewhat inferior to the life-changing (mine, that is)
“More Songs About Buildings and Food”.  There was more weirdness than melody this
time around, and “I Zimbra”, with its chanting and throbbing beat, seemed less like a
song than a novelty that happened to be good to dance to.  I struggled to explain to
myself how Talking Heads – a band I loved – made a record that sounded a lot like music 
I hated.  This minor crisis threatened my enormous self satisfaction.

Jump now to the summer of 1980 when the Heads are playing around town at an outside
venue.  I don’t actually get in, but I hear enough to be appalled.  “I Zimbra” turned out
not to be a novelty but rather a new direction.  And now at this show, instead of the spare,
angular minimal Talking Heads, I get a big band.  There are about 10 people on stage,
including background singers (I hate background singers, by the way), and the guitar
player is actually shimmying.  I left, disgusted.

Later that year, they came out with “Remain in Light”, which featured the new sound
they were previewing that summer - but for some reason by now I can handle it.  In the
privacy of my apartment I can appreciate what I couldn't then.  I hear the words and the
core sound of the Heads, and can better handle the new trappings.  I also realize that they
wanted people to dance to their music, not just stand around being ironic.


Acceptance:

Speaking of irony, I can now see a clear difference between disco and the newer Talking
Heads sound, but it's a good thing I couldn't then.  It forced me to confront the likelihood
that I was just an uptight stick in the mud. 

I also caught them again about a year later, and this time they sounded great, even though
the show wasn’t much different from the earlier one.  So I guess they forced me out of
my comfort zone.

Once outside of it, it becomes much easier to enjoy other dance music (although I have
my limits – the Salsoul Orchestra Christmas Album still sucks).  I negotiated a
compromise with myself, and have developed a tic when this music is on.  I call it
dancing.  My kids call it Tourettes.


So the following are some records that helped me in this transition. I have to stress that
these are not objects for study.  They are extremely enjoyable records:

Substance - New Order
This greatest-hits-at-the-time is just the right blend of new wave and dance music.   It
takes you from their dark Joy Division roots to the prime of their dance floor hit era.

Saturday Night Fever
Okay, the hits are way overplayed, and the filler is, well, filler, but attention must be paid.

Discography - Pet Shop Boys
So you can dance and be ironic at the same time!

Very - Pet Shop Boys
And then the irony wears away, to reveal actual feelings.

Haddaway
Friends laugh when I tell them how much I like this Eurodisco album.  Is it because I’m a
dead ringer for the fella on the cover?  Not.

Wise Guy - Kid Creole and the Coconuts
Between the carribean beats, the funny/intelligent lyrics and the tunes, this was one of the
greatest surprises of my record buying life. 

The Immaculate Collection - Madonna
I don't even own this one yet, but I dare you to not like “Borderline”.  Once you’ve done
that, there’s “Holiday”, "Vogue", etc.  And before you know it, you’re practically gay.


At root, dance music encourages the display of a grace and self assurance that
I simply can’t identify with.  It just isn’t modest or awkward enough for me.  These
people are having way too much fun.

Stop me before I dance again!

Sometimes the Wife is Right – Ian McCulloch’s “Mysterio”

Occasionally my wife reminds me that all the good music drifting through our house doesn’t originate solely from my CDs. She has a habit of telling me things I don’t want to hear.

Once, she told me that she heard of REM before I did. I scoffed at this. I had naturally assumed that she liked them because I, her boyfriend, liked them, and that she’d follow me anywhere. Or something like that.

The city we’re in is known for its music scene, but our radio stations were and are still pathetic. But the Mrs. reminded me that, at the time, her job took her out of town, where she got the reception to bring in the station that played “modern rock”, like Depeche Mode, the Cure, the Smiths, U2, New Order and, um, REM. So while her assertion can’t possibly be right, it might be technically true.

But back to her first assertion. She reminded me of an album she got that I had held out little hope for, Ian McCulloch’s “Mysterio”. Ian played guitar for Echo and the Bunnymen, a band I’ve never quite gotten. So the idea of sitting through one of their solo albums wasn’t very appealing to me. I was resigned that the ongoing pollution of my record library was to continue in this way. (It all began with the Great Merge of the record collections that took place right after we got married.)

I like my guitars chiming, which is why I don’t really love grunge or heavy metal the way I’m supposed to. Those bands play chords that are heavy and flat, more percussive than tuneful. The distortion dulls and limits the sound rather than expands it. Power chords without any real power.

But Ian likes his guitars chiming, too. And echoey! He seems cool to an old guy like me because he’s got that “modern” sound that’s been around for about thirty years now, and although there are three guitar players, this record’s bigger on tone than on decibel. Spacey rather than loud, it can be played at any volume and it sounds good. If you have company over, you can lower the volume and still hear the higher trebly notes. If you want rock and roll, you can turn it up and make a good noise. It’s a great record to put on during the summer with the windows wide open.

Something tells me to avoid delving too much into the lyrics. Ian only puts one verse of each song in the booklet, as if to say, c’mon, you’re here for the guitars! One of them goes:
“one and one and five make seven,
One and one and three make five…”
Although I can’t fault the arithmetic as such, I’ll assume that there’s some algebra that brings it all together eventually, but I haven’t noticed it yet. The rest seems kinda portentious, or pretentious, or something, I don’t know. So there’s a silliness factor to be considered, or ignored. And if the guitars sound good enough, I say ignore away.

This record has made me slightly more inclined to try out Echo and the Bunnymen, but I haven’t taken the plunge yet. For now, Ian McCulloch by himself is just the right combination of silly and fun. One guy can take himself too seriously if he plays real good. I don’t know if I can deal with four of them, though.

Despite all my snide remarks to the contrary, I have to admit that this is a very easy record to listen to. So, in the words of many a husband before me, Yes, dear.