We Can Be Weirdos: VU Alumnae

Nico

John Cale

The Time of Your Life vs. No Time At All:

Having recently retired, I veer between two contradictory ideas:

1. I now have all the time in the world, so I will get every Bob Dylan bootleg like my friend Nutboy recommends.
2. I am nearer to the end of my life and time is thus limited. Therefore I must be unrelentingly focused on the best of everything, not in every weird byway.

While my default approach is number one, lately I've been opting for number two.

WYHIWYG vs. WTFITS

Most pop records are pretty straightforward. In the olden days, there was a thing called "airplay", which was needed if a record was to become popular. Thus artists, "encouraged" by the record companies, would try to not scare off DJs, whose motto was "what you don't play can't hurt you". The song had to be short, sweet, and catchy right out of the gate. Thus, the end product tends to be what you expect. They hold no secrets and offer no mysteries. And it's good, even great, sometimes. You get what you pay for. Or, to put it another way, What You Hear Is What You Get (WYHIWYG).

Then there are records that, when you put them on, an unprepared listener is likely to say "What the fuck is this shit?" Call it the WTFITS (pronounced what fits?) Test. I'm not talking about records like Ruby Vroom or Second Edition whose first impressions are quite daunting, but that eventually pull you in. I'm talking about the ones that - after dozens of listens over the course of, ahem, decades - still make you shake your head.

I will never know who the WTFITS GOATs are, but I am aware of some real contenders. In Pop Music there's Pere Ubu and Captain Beefheart. Scratching the surface of Jazz reveals Cecil Taylor and Ornette Coleman. And out there in Classical Music, there's Steely Dan fave Cathy Berberian. And if there are Country and Western weirdos I don't want to know about them. I don't need Deliverance vibes.

In this series about, well, weirdos, I will try to limit myself to new purchases. Of course, my mind wanders, and now that I mention Pere Ubu I ask myself why I have not gotten anything else by them since Dub Housing in the early eighties? Oh, because that record scored highest-ever (in the Jaybee Universe anyway) WTFITS score with a 10 outta 10. Even Trout Mask Replica (9.5) can't match that. And my one listen to Metal Machine Music reveals it to be only a 9.0, as you get the joke rather early in the proceedings.

My reaction to such music can be perverse. Sonic Youth, for instance, has enticed me to buy at least six albums while not fully satisfying me on any of them. How did they do that? Is it like having an argument with someone and you keep going back hoping to come out on top of the conversation. 

This might explain why, after getting two rather mystifying Ornette Coleman albums I'm tempted to put this on my Christmas list.

But deep, deep (deep) down I realize the really really real reason is that cool people like these albums/artists and I want to be cool, too. Never mind that when I actually meet any of these cool people I guard my wallet and look for the exit. It turns out the cool people I meet via the written word tend to be the same ones I avoid on the D train.

So before I do any further damage I'm pulling out all my WTFITS albums and, before I die, come to some understanding of/with them.

In the meantime, I will look at some new (for me) records that are kinda strange. This time I'll limit myself to two Velvet Underground alumnae.

Nico: The Marble Index (1968)

Take Chelsea Girls, subtract the good songwriters (Jackson Browne, Dylan, Lou Reed, etc.) and add random background noise to announce that it's art. Nico mostly disavowed Chelsea Girls, and here she wants to prove her avant-garde bonafides, so she dragged John Cale - producer and fellow VU alum - into this project. Good soldier John doubled down on the Art with a capital A and thus must accept some blame. I imagine Nico standing erect wearing a Viking hat when "emoting" these tunes (a term I use loosely) from the top of Mt. Bindingsnuten.

If the theme is "life sucks and then you die" that's fine, but don't actively try to make it so. I like a lot of music that could make one want to slit one's wrists but this could take out an entire neighborhood.

It starts off okay, with an off-kilter little ditty that sets the doomy tone. Okay, fine, I'm thinking, you're preparing me. So I get comfortable in my chair and wait. Then she does it again. And again. And so on. 

I will admit that after repeated listenings, a few songs do emerge, but alas, they recede again as the accompaniment (again Cale) is erratic bordering on random. On one song the background adds tension and thus improves things a bit, on another song it just gives the sense of two blind people occasionally bumping into each other in a dark room.

The climax is "Evening of Light", which - as you can see below - belongs in a cheap '70s horror flick. It reminds me of the worst parts of Pleasures of the Harbor and the best parts of The Wicker Man.

And yet, I don't hate it. It just needs a label, like "Warning: Pretentious, Bordering on Silly".

B-

John Cale: Paris 1919 (1973)

Having spent last summer with Lou, I felt it only fair to dip back into John Cale's oeuvre (I always  have wanted to write - but not necessarily pronounce - that word!). I've got his three albums on Island Records, which are good, if not exactly catchy. His 1990 collaboration with Eno is a lot more fun.

Cale, by the way, was born in Wales, was quickly recognized as a musical prodigy, and ended up in America playing with avant-garde luminaries like La Monte Young and Terry Riley, and playing 18-hour concerts as one does. 

He then met Lou Reed and formed the Velvet Underground, playing, among other things viola. After he got tossed out of the band (just Lou being Lou) he went on on to produce numerous artists including the Stooges, Patti Smith, Nico, the Modern Lovers, and Squeeze. And his own solo career would be singularly idiosyncratic without all the Lou Reed nastiness.

This is probably his most accessible record. Quite lovely and way more enjoyable than anything Lou was doing at the time. I guess this is Cale's stab at commercialism, just to show he could do it. But he can't without it coming out weird anyway. How does one recruit half of Little Feat and get them to sink into the mix without a trace? (Well, they do manage to bust out for "MacBeth".) I guess after years of trying to bend Lou Reed to his will (and vice versa) Lowell George was a piece of cake.

It's a bit baroque, rife with literary and historical references. What undermines it is his not exactly unpleasant but kinda shaky voice. He sounds like he's hanging onto the melody for all it's worth, and occasionally falling off. If it were sung more skillfully, it might have been one of the best records of the decade.

Alas, it's only pretty freaking good.

A-

Next: It gets weird(er)

Forget Everything I Said

Go-Betweens: 16 Lovers Lane (1988)

This is the GBs sixth album, and their last one before taking a ten-year hiatus.

It's also my eighth unless you count the anthology of solo records by each of the two songwriters, Robert McClennan and Robert Forster.

Now, this would seem to go against everything I said a couple of posts ago, yet here we are.

How to explain? Well, in a way this should have been my first GB record. After all, I heard "Streets of Your Town" on the radio in late '88. That timeless pop classic alone should have gotten me to the record store the day I heard it. Shall I say that, as a new parent, I put the care of our newborn first? It's just as likely I was avoiding the "one good song on a crappy album" situation. 

It took two years to get over that. Alas, when I tried to buy it at J&R, they had every other GB record except 16LL. There was an anthology 1978 - 1990, which had "Streets" on it, so I took the plunge. It turned out to be one of my favorite records ever - a great mix of their best album cuts, b-sides, and assorted weirdness. It would take me another six years to venture beyond that record, mainly due to the fear that I had now already heard all their best stuff.

And once I did it wasn't all smooth sailing. Each record had something to offer: some incredible high points, but also some annoyances. The latter were usually supplied by Robert Forster, whose songs didn't always have a clear melodic line, and his singing didn't worry too much about things like pitch. Kind of an MOR Lou Reed, if such a thing were possible. (btw, I'd pay to see that.)

I would learn that these were features, not bugs. Records like Before Hollywood and Tallulah were exactly what they wanted to be. And it was my tough luck if because of that they weren't perfect. 

It would eventually become obvious to (even) me that I liked their post-hiatus records Friends of Rachel Worth and Oceans Apart the best. Maybe by then, Robert decided that if they wanted a hit he'd have to be a little less awkward.

Unfortunately, this coincided with the music business becoming infinitely more superficial, if that were possible, so despite his best efforts to sell out, no one was buying, no matter how great the records were.

So I now came full circle, finally listening to Nutboy, who, in 2011 told me 16LL was his favorite GB record. And ignoring my own misgivings about the diminishing returns from getting multiple albums from the same artist. There are some for whom such a concern simply doesn't count. They're always going to give you something more than what you had before. And the GBs are among them.

Grant McLennan contributes his usual set of literate, emotional, melodic pop songs, "Streets" being merely the best one.

Robert Forster steps up with an almost too pretty "Love is a Sign" and the so sad it's almost funny "I"m All Right". Vocally, he reverts to form with "Clouds" but manages to sidestep the usual snags. The production helps. As a matter of fact, his songs are the prettiest on the record.

What's missing is the powerful rhythmic motor that usually drives their songs. But I guess it's just not that type of record, so they get away with it. 

My only regret is that they didn't get the success the album richly deserved.

A-

So in case you're interested here are my GB albums in order of preference 

Oceans Apart

The Friends of Rachel Worth

16 Lovers Lane

Tallulah

Spring Hill Fair

Before Hollywood

Liberty Belle and the Black Diamond Express

No go and have at it!

A Bajillion Classic Albums!

Too Much Music, or Please Ignore the Picture of the Cute Kid:

Last time it was about where to draw the line when it comes to music you consider to be your own.

Now I'm wondering about the box sets/compilations/anthologies that will overwhelm you with the sheer volume of music they contain. I've definitely dipped my toe in here with Bach's Well-Tempered Clavier (7 CDs) and Beethoven's Nine Symphonies (5 CDs). 

And I have some friends - yeah you, Nutboy - who think nothing of having every Dylan Bootleg release in existence, and who somehow emerge unscathed and have enough time and brain cells left for other music! 

Because time is the issue here, not money. Not anymore.

I've been stuck on a WHP post on the Beethoven Symphonies for months, and I've had that record for forty fucking years.

It doesn't help that my buying habits have led Amazon to make the following suggestions to me:

Eight Classic Albums by Lee Morgan for $13.54

5 Original Albums by Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers for $16.90

8 Classic Albums by Thelonious Monk for $10.28

Classic Collaborations 1957-1963 by John Coltrane for $13.39

Essential Original Albums by Chet Baker $21.08

And me, like a dog seeing a squirrel, can't help but add them to my Shopping Cart (in the Saved for Later section, thank god).

But note the very reasonable prices for these collections. The prices on the individual albums are pretty good, too, and if I focused on them, one at a time, I'd end up with less music but more I can actually absorb.

But I didn't. Instead, I succumbed to the temptation of the six-CD 12 Classic Albums by Bill Evans thus diving into the deep end of the pool again.

And if I make any more such purchases, does the concept of the single album that has played a central role in my musical life has begun to fade away? And will all of these artists end up getting short-shrift because I can't really listen to any one of them for very long?

Back in 2016, I joked about getting so sucked into the WHP that it might seem I was reading every book ever written and every record ever recorded. As that idiot Morrissey would say, that joke isn't funny anymore.

But Back to Bill Evans, Remember Him?:

Some other important concepts pertaining to this collection:

• Time: A ridiculous 7 hours. Not for him. For me!
• Space: Not terrible, about an inch wide. But it's still an open question if he warrants it.
• Number of Albums: I have this query in Access called "Summary by Artist" which is a quick way of determining who's in my pantheon. It looks something like this:

# Albums	Artist
22	The Beatles
16	Bob Dylan
16	Neil Young
14	The Who
13	Rolling Stones
11	Miles Davis
11	R.E.M.
11	The Kinks
10	Bruce Springsteen
10	Elvis Costello
9	Little Feat

Now, I ask you, is it fair that this young whippersnapper Bill Evans (who I feel I should mention has been dead for forty years) - an artist I don't even know if I like yet - suddenly vaults to the number six spot in one purchase - past other artists like Miles Davis(!), whose albums I purchased one at a time over the course of decades, thus proving their value to me every step of the way?

Uh, what was the question Jaybee? 

Never mind! You get my point.

But Jaybee, What About the, um, Music?

Good Question!

Aside from his work on Kind of Blue, I'm not really familiar with his work. And you know by now not to ask the obvious question: So, why would you then buy 12 fucking albums by him? And all I can say is, I'm the scorpion.

So I will probably NEVER get to the bottom of this small pile of six CDs, so I'll just focus on the first one for now which comprises his first two albums.

New Jazz Conceptions (1956)

Nice, fine technique. Melodic. He doesn't overdo it. But he does mellow out a bit too much on side two.

B+

"Waltz for Debby"

Everybody Digs Bill Evans (1959)

A bit more "sophisticated". What, with all those quotes on the cover he better be. Smooth. Cool. But not much fire. (I just said cool, didn't I??)

He does finish strong with some lyrical tunes, though.

B+

"Peace Piece"

And I'll eventually get to the rest. But based on what I've heard thus far, here is my updated list of favorite jazz pianists:

1. Bud Powell: A great combination of technical mastery and imagination.

2. Thelonious Monk: A bit twisted, technique-wise, but man, what a mind!

3. Errol Garner: Bud Powell for the middle class, in the best possible way.

4. Bill Evans: Technique-wise better than all of the above, but impact-wise less than expected.

5. Art Tatum: Brilliant technique, but too slick by half (whatever that means).

In a word, it's about fun.

And Bill, sorry to say - especially with those forbidding glasses - is not a whole lot of fun. 

The Long View, If I Ever Get To It:

Bill Evans died right around the time John Lennon did, and I remember being in a bookstore overhearing the manager bemoaning the fact that Lennon's death was far more widely known and mourned than Evans, who he considered just as great a talent.

Thems would normally be fighting words but I'm younger than that now. And who knows how I'll feel after immersing myself further? Perhaps my opinion of Bill Evans will eventually be similar. 

The trouble is by then I don't know if I'll have a worthwhile opinion about anything else.

Ninth Annual Jaybee-bies: The Best of 2019, But Not Really

Well, This Is Embarrassing.

Despite my best efforts to stay current, I got so focused on catching up on the decade that I never actually got to 2019. Thus, my 2019 list has no 2019 records on it! Nutboy would be mortified.

It’s people like Nutboy - by focusing on the here and the now and yet somehow absorbing the latest 30-CD Bob Dylan Bootleg release - who keep me humble. I’m waiting for your 2019 list NB!

I was tempted to check out the 2019 records that appeared on the many decade lists I perused, but I didn’t trust the rankings. The value of decade lists is that they give people years to process what they heard. But you only get a few months for the 2019 records. Hence there’s a temptation to overrate what you happen to like at that moment.


Resolutions: 

So, I will - again - resolve to get 2020 music during actual 2020. And, I guess, catch up on, um, 2019. A new decade and I’m already behind the f*cking 8-ball. Or in my case maybe the 7-ball.

Aside from that, I won’t bore you yet again with my pathetic attempts at personal resolutions. They’re going about as well as you’d expect.

But as far as music goes, I’ve made some adjustments. I had previously resolved to get more mp3s. I’m now hearing that the sound quality of CDs (and vinyl) is better. (Any advice on this would be appreciated.) So I may go back to CDs. We’ll just have to add an extension to the house.

Oh, I’ve been (re)learning guitar, and have resolved to practice “more”, whatever that means.


Awards:

Most Work (But Worth it): Arca

Most Work (And Possibly Not Worth It): tUnE yArDs

Most Surprising: Lykki Li

Most Disappointing: tUnE yArDs

Best Artist: Nobody, but that's okay.


Best Books:

This was not a great year for finishing books, but for those that I did, here are my favorites.

Any Old Way You Choose It by Robert Christgau
Just so much fun to read a person's first-hand reaction to events and music from decades ago. A

Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
Very entertaining and I learned a lot. But I couldn't have the latter without the former. A-

Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen
Jane’s always reliable for a good yarn. A-

Susan Sontag: The Complete Rolling Stone Interview, Cott, Jonathan
I enjoyed Sontag’s answers a lot more than Cott’s questions.  A-


Oh, Yeah. Music:

I didn’t hear anything that absolutely floored me, but all of the below rewarded repeated listening.

Last year, of my top ten, five were either lead or co-led by a woman. This year makes that year look like a case of testosterone poisoning.

There was also a struggle between fun and seriousness. In a pinch, the former won.

In terms of quality 1-4 are very close, as are 5-6 and 7-9 and - of course - 10.

1. Snail Mail: Lush (2018)  Compared to the ladies below, she’s a bit of a sad sack, but she wants what’s best for you.
2. Alvvays: Anti-Socialites (2017)  She’s pretty level headed about love. And outright serious about catchiness.
3. Best Coast: Crazy for You (2010)  Not only do the songs sound similar, but their themes are also similar. She loves him, he drives her crazy. What might drive you crazy in a friend can be very entertaining in an artist.
4. Janelle Monae: Dirty Computer  (2018)  Yes, Prince is dead, but she is filling the hole pretty nicely so far.
5. Leonard Cohen: You Want it Darker (2018)  He may have been a young hedonist but he worked and worked and worked until the very end.
6. Kacey Musgraves: Golden Hour (2018) The songs are not all uniformly great, but that voice! 
7. Soccer Mommy: Clean (2018)  Sometimes irritatingly weird but I keep listening to it.
8. Pusha T: Daytona (2018)  Grim realities right in your face. Compelling.
9. Noname: Room 25 (2018) This flows beautifully from beginning to end.
10. And tied for 10th: Arca: Arca (2017), Lykki Li: Wounded Rhymes (2011), Father John Misty: I Love You Honeybear (2010), Tom Waits: Bad As Me (2011), Bon Iver: Bon Iver (2011)

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

Here's to the New Year! 

Are we in a war yet?

Pushing It: Jon Hopkins' Immunity

I was in a weird mood last month when I decided, out of the blue, that I’d take up Nutboy on another one of his recommendations. Back in 2011 he gave me two (really ten, but these two stood out), only one of which I tried at the time: the quirky but beautiful The Wild Hunt by The Tallest Man on Earth, which ended up being one of my favorites for that year.

You think I’d just dive into his next recommendation,  wouldn’t you? But nooooooo! Ever the pessimist, I argued to myself that one happy result is good, but trying for two is pushing things. So I did nothing.

So, earlier this year, I finally decided - why? I don't know - to give Diamond Mine by King Creosote and Jon Hopkins a shot, and, of course, it’s wonderful.

But here’s where it got weird.  I didn’t even wait to find out if it was wonderful before I decided I’d also get a solo album by Jon Hopkins! It was a pretty well-regarded record and all, but there are a lot of those, so why take the chance? Perhaps it was an act of penance for not going right to Diamond Mine when Nutboy first recommended it.

So two may be pushing it, but sometimes what you need to do is push.




Jon Hopkins: Immunity (2013)


It turns out that Jon Hopkins on his own is markedly different from what he and King Creosote do together. Or so it seems.

It’s hard to hear on first listen how this and Diamond Mine have the same person on it, in whatever capacity. So I went back to Diamond Mine and began to notice how - although the King’s gentle vocals are out front - what’s holding them up isn’t the expected acoustic guitar or piano, but rather the unexpected synthesizer or found sounds of Jon.

So while Immunity starts out sounding like generic dance/electronica, it gradually grows a soul. And that’s the key to this music. Either it should - below the cold brooding surface - have some humanity, or come up with a damn good argument for not having it. (Aphex Twin, for instance, although I'm not sure I'm convinced.)

On this record that humanity is revealed both over the course of each individual track and the album as a whole.

It’s a very worthwhile journey, and one of my favorites of the year. It also works like a charm when you go out for a run, or when you’re trying to do some thinking.

And at the end - surprise! - King Creosote joins Jon for the beautiful send-off. But it would be understandable if you barely noticed him. Like Jon Hopkins on Diamond Mine, he’s in the background.

But he adds the crucial detail - a human voice.

A-

Short, Sharp Shocks, or Smaller is Better:

As you might recall (no, you don’t. Who’s kidding who? Only I’d recall something like this.) vinyl albums held about forty minutes worth of music. You could fit up to an hour or so, but forty was the average.

So my natural skinflintedness meant that, if for no other reason (other than not having to get up off my ass every 20 minutes to flip it over), I’d love the CD format (about 80 minutes of music per), even if they cost a bit more than vinyl.

Ah, but what if the music is there just to fill up the space? Whereas before artists had to pick and choose only the best of their new songs to fit on vinyl, now they could spread out like those guys sitting on the subway train, with results that could be just as uncomfortable.

So I eventually came to “appreciate” (ie, respect and even enjoy, while still writing to my congressperson about instituting unit pricing on albums) the "short album".

Early rock n’ roll albums were pretty short, mainly because the songs were short. Even twelve of them wouldn’t always hit thirty - let alone forty - minutes.

Songs are just longer now.

Now, if I were to fully embrace my inner (and soon to be outer) grumpy old man and combine it with my natural nerdiness...well, for one thing, I’d end up with one hell of a super-villain.

But I’d also endlessly debate the merits of musical unit-pricing based on songs per dollar vs. minutes per dollar.  I can just see the entire Marvel and DC Universe surrendering to me, on the one condition that I just shut the f*ck up. Now that’s winning, baby!

Anyway, last year’s Puberty 2 by Mitski was pretty short (about 31 minutes) but didn’t feel that way. Not sure if that’s a compliment, but it’s probably because there are eleven songs on it

And this year, I came across a few records that come up short timewise, but not aesthetics-wise.


Cloudburst:


The Cloud Nothings: Attack on Memory (2012)

Although it only has eight songs that run 33 minutes it feels complete, and even generous. Now that’s intensity!

This foursome plays aggressive-to-harsh electric guitars a la Parquet Courts but change tone often enough - and add melody enough - to keep it all from beating you down.

There’s even a burst of Feelies drone-guitar in the cheerier-than-average “Fall In”.

The mid 20s singer complains a lot, but his gravelly voice sounds old and vaguely threatening, verging on ugly. And when things get out of hand, they careen out of control and crash.

But they pull themselves out of the ditch and start up again, with guitars propelling them along the way.

A-

"Fall In"



The Harsh Mirror:


Death Cab for Cutie: The Open Door EP (2009)

Damn, I lost focus again and forgot to keep it in the decade!

I have a hard time even saying their name, both for silliness and sheer mechanics. (You try saying it fast.)

And, admittedly it's an EP, not an album. But, like with the Germans bombing Pearl Harbor, just let it go.

I had already gotten a taste of Ben Gibbard’s songwriting from Postal Service. And like on that album, his melodies can seem a bit mechanical, as if he plotted them out on graph paper.

What works for it, though - like the atmospherics of Give Up - is the sturdy rocking band behind him.
So the outcome is a little more organic.

And the lyrics are filled with painful self-examination. Not the physical kind.  That comes later in life, boys!

A-

"My Mirror Speaks"




Sweet (and Weird) and Lovely:

King Creosote and Jon Hopkins: Diamond Mine (2014)

 I’ve only had this for about a week, so I should really wait to digest it, but I just don’t want to.

Nutboy recommended this to me a while ago, but I immediately lost his email.  Well, I finally dug it up, and I'm glad I did.

Sweet, quiet, with odd and everyday sounds mixed in. King Creosote provides the former, with a voice so fragile you think it’s going to shatter. Jon Hopkins, who I will talk about in another post, provides the latter, and helps to keep this from going down too easy. Together, they make a Scottish Neil Young.

But you’d better play it early, before the neighborhood noises start to drown it out. Yes, it's that fragile.

But well worth it.

A-

"Your Own Spell"

Sixth Annual Jaybee-bies: 2016, or Holy F*cking Sh*t

Will Toledo of Car Seat Headrest


For once, I’m going to get this done before the Voice does their Pazz and Jop poll.

Anyway, it was the best of times (music) and it was the worst of times (everything else). You get the idea.

Unlike prior years, in 2016 there always seemed to be a really good record to listen to. Alas, like most prior years there didn’t seem to be any outright great ones (except one). But overall things could have been a lot, lot worse.


Resolutions:

I’m always trying to cut down on the CDs in favor of mp3s, and out of a total of 32 albums, only 15 were actual CDs. So I did pretty well not overfilling the house with plastic jewel cases, but I kind of miss the liner notes.

And in my struggle to stay more current, I’m treading water. As in 2015, I managed to get four albums from 2016. I’ve still got to work on that, since I can’t compete with Nutboy, who can spin off a Top 5 list and still say that Car Seat Headrest is great without including it. So I know he’s got a few more up his sleeve. I must do better!

And eat more vegetables.


Nutboy:

And speaking of Nutboy, here’s his list:

1. Bob Dylan: The Real Royal Albert Hall 1966 Concert 
2. Radiohead: Heart Shaped Pool
3. Sturgill Simpson: A Sailor’s Guide to Earth
4. Drive By Truckers: American Band 
5. Angel Olsen: My Woman

Now I have no doubt Nutboy can listen to the six CD Dylan The Bootleg Series, Vol. 12: The Cutting Edge 1965-1966  in a single sitting, and I wouldn’t put it past him to enjoy a collection of outgoing messages from Dylan’s answering machine, and good for him I say. But I’m guessing he’s onto something here.

Angel Olsen is the only one that I’ve got and I can understand why it made his cut. It kind of made mine, too.

And the rest have been on my radar, and now that they have the NSA (Nutboy Seal of Approval) I can proceed, but, as usual, I’m a dollar short and a year late.


Overrated, or Disappointments:

Without dwelling on it, I’ll just say that Elliott Smith’s Either/Or is Neither, and Joy of Cooking
stinks to high heaven of 1970. It’s not a bad smell, mind you, but it should have worn off by now.


Top Ten:

So here’s my list, which I’ll remind you contains whatever I got acquainted with last year, and is thus not limited to 2016 releases.

1. Car Seat Headrest: Teens of Denial

2. Erroll Garner: The Complete Concert by the Sea

3. Chills: Kaleidoscope World

4. Fairport Convention: Liege and Leif

5. Kinks: Lola vs Powerman and the Money Go Round

6. Philip Glass: Glassworks (Expanded Edition)

7. The Go! Team: Thunder Lightning Strike

8. Bach: The Well Tempered Clavier/Art of the Fugue/A Musical Offering

9. Apples in Stereo: New Magnetic Wonder

and tied for 10th
John Coltrane: Afro Blue Impressions
Robbie Fulks: Upland Stories 
The Go-Betweens: The Friends of Rachel Worth 
Angel Olsen: My Woman


Top Songs:

This is just some of them, and I’m sure I’ve missed a few:
Car Seat Headrest: "Drunk Drivers/Killer Whales"
Car Seat Headrest: “Vincent”
The Chills: “Cosmic Drift”
The Chills: “Rolling Moon”
The Chills “Doledrums”
Fairport Convention: “Come All Ye”
The Kinks: “Top of the Pops”
The Kinks: “Strangers” 
Philip Glass “Opening”
The Go! Team: “Bottle Rocket”
The Apples in Stereo: “Beautiful Machine Part 1-2”
The Apples in Stereo: “Seven Suns”
Elliot Smith: “Rose Parade”
Gavin Bryars: “Jesus’ Blood Never Failed Me Yet”


Most Awesomest:

Bach: The Well Tempered Clavier/Art of the Fugue/A Musical Offering: 7 CDs, after all


Most Funnest:

Car Seat Headrest: It’s got everything I need.

Bestest First Cut:

Fairport Convention: “Come All Ye”

Best Last Line:

I'm cheating, because there’s short “coda” after this, but Car Seat Headrest’s “Connect the Dots”  ends with F*ck All This!!


Thoughts:

So how could Car Seat Headrest be better than Bach or an album with "Lola” on it? The shock of the new I guess. And I have to learn to trust that more.

It’s amazing that the election didn’t ruin Kaleidoscope World for me. That makes it rank pretty high.

I considered not listing Erroll Garner at all since I’ve had the original album for years, but it turns out that more EG is better EG.

How the hell did Philip Glass end up making one of the more emotional records I heard this year?

This has nothing to do with any objective musical quality, otherwise Bach would be at the top. This is about subjective experience.


The Year of….

If it’s an artist (and it usually is):
Bach? Maybe. I mean, 9 CDs worth just this year? So if it was an artist, it would be him.

But maybe it’s a thing.
World History Project? No, this is just getting started, musically.

A Concept? 
Disappointment? Not musically, though.

Maybe it’s the year of Things More Important Than Music, and Not In A Good Way. That’s probably it. But that doesn’t mean I don’t still need music. As a matter of fact, it’s what gets me through it all.

And for the next four years, I’m gonna need a lot of it.

Fifth Annual Jaybee-bies, or, 2015, I Want My Money Back

Looking for My Receipt:

I’m finally getting around to my 2015 round up. Just before people forget there was a 2015, I hope.

It was a long, frustrating year, where I got about forty albums and very, very few of them managed to bowl me over. I was beginning to think I was losing my taste for music.

And other things. It took Mrs. Jaybee to remind me of that wonderful trip to Italy and Son Michael’s graduation (more on him later) that it wasn’t such a bad year after all.

But still, musically, I’m left a little less than ecstatic, and I’m looking for my receipt for 2015 so that I can return it.


My Ears Are Bigger Than My Head (Literally True!)

Dear 2015, it’s not you, it’s me.

You see, I’m in a cycle that goes like this:

I buy a lot of music.
I lean towards exploration instead of the familiar.
Then I complain that nothing hitd me right away.
So I go and get more music to make up for that.

This is dumb. (And may be a poem, too.) I mean, what did I expect?

But then I think about an individual song or album I have that I feel very lucky to have. Then I think about how many records I have that fit that description. You’d think there would be enough of it by now. Apparently not.

And really, how much do I need? I still haven’t answered that question satisfactorily. And even if 2015 was disappointing, I can’t imagine not getting new music in 2016.


Lack of Resolution:

So How Did I Do with My 2015 Resolutions?  Great, because I didn’t make any, having so resoundly failed on my 2014 ones. I even repeated those failures in 2015:  More new music than ever, 75% of it CDs (thanks to my amazon.com boycott) which now having taken over the CD rack completely, are expanding blitzkrieg-like into the bookshelf,

I did manage four records from 2015, two of them thanks to son Michael. One he bought and one he made!

So, no resolutions. They - along with self improvement in general - are way overrated.


Second Thoughts, or Regrets? I’ve Had a Few:

I gave all my 2015 records another listen to see if I’ve changed my mind about anything. Especially the ones that disappointed me. Mostly no.

Ex Hex: Rips - Expertly played punk/hard rock I could swear I heard before and probably did so why bother?

The Smiths: The Queen is Dead - Thanks guys, but I had all the good songs already. link

The Clean: Anthology Almost ditto link.  Every (well, almost every) cut is unique and worthwhile, but by the middle of the second disk I feel as though I’ve been left to wander the wilds of New Zealand without a guide. It can be fun, but there may be better things to do. (Ocean of Sound is kind of like that too, but since the whole point of that record is to get lost, it wouldn’t be fair to criticize it for that).

Music from the HBO Film As You Like It - A lovely main theme sprinkled repetitively throughout “movie music”. I probably would have been fine with getting the individual track. (An idea whose time has come, by the way. Buy more individual songs, thus avoiding disappointing albums. Hey, I've got a resolution after all!)  Not bad, mind you. Just nothing I’d reach out to because I’m never in the mood for it.


Top Tens(e):

While patting myself on the back that I managed a handful of actual 2015 albums this year, it’s still pretty paltry compared to Nutboy’s list. He to 2015 and managed seven (7. Josh Ritter - Sermons on the Mount, 6. Blur - Magic Whip, 5. Craig Finn - Faith in the Future, 4. Wilco - Star Wars 3. Courtney Barnett - Sometimes I Sit, 2. Sufjan Stevens - Carrie and Lowell, 1. Bob Dylan - The Cutting Edge . Vol.12)

He did the same with movies, too.  (10. Inside Out ..  9. Sicario  8. Love and Mercy  7. Steve Jobs  6. Creed  5. Spotlight   4. Amy   3. The Revenant  2. The Big Short  1. Mad Max - Fury Road)

I only managed to see two movies this year. (Another resolution. Get out more!)

I’d hit back with a top ten list of books (none from 2015 though) but I suspect he just didn’t bother to show off. The man really ought to have a blog, but he’s too busy with current year music and movies (ie, having a life, hmmm, another resolution here?)

Anyway, here are my albums of my 2015:

1. Sufjan Stevens: Carrie and Lowell  (2015)  
2. Various Artists: Ocean of Sound (1996) 
3. Howlin’ Wolf : Howlin’ Wolf  (1962)  
4. Aretha Franklin: I Never Loved a Man the Way I Love You (1967) 
5. Courtney Barnett: Sometimes I Just Sit and Think…. (2015)  
6. Michael Burns: Mountain Mover EP  (2015)
7. Yo La Tengo: And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside Out (2000) 
8. Brian Eno & John Cale: Wrong Way Up (1990)  
9. Howlin’ Wolf: Moanin’ in the Moonlight (1962)  
10. and tied for tenth place Various Artists: Music from Shutter Island (2010), Yo La Tengo: Fakebook (1990), Withered Hand: New Gods (2014), Brian Eno/Harold Budd: The Pearl (1984), Wussy: Attica! (2014), Brian Eno/Daniel Lanois/Roger Eno: Apollo: Atmospheres and Soundtracks (1983)

Top Songs:
Mike Burns: “Mountain Mover”
Sufjan Stevens: “The Only Thing”
Sufjan Stevens: “Fourth of July”
Coutney Barnett: “Debbie Downer”
Courtney Barnett: "Nobody Really Cares If you Don’t Go to the Party”
Brian Eno/John Cale: “Lay My Love”
Brian Eno/John Cale: “Been There, Done That”
Dinah Washington/Max Richter: “This Bitter Earth/On the Nature of Daylight” 
Yo La Tengo: "The Summer"
Yo La Tengo: "You Tore Me Down"
Yo La Tengo: "Deeper Into Movies"
Massive Attack: "Hymn of the Big Wheel"
The War on Drugs: "In Reverse"
Patrick Doyle: "Violin Romance"


Some Observations:

Familiar music suffers in comparison to new music simply because it can’t have the same impact on me any more. Otherwise Aretha and Howlin Wolf might be all over the top of the list.

Very good music in my favorite genres (pop, rock n’ roll) outdoes obviously great music in other genres (R&B), again impacting Franklin and Wolf.

I’m getting more and more music for less and less money, but have a sneaking suspicion that the musicians themselves are getting less and less a share of it..

I’ve prided myself on opting for the new - getting an album by a new artist rather than one by one I’m already familiar with. This is educational, and leads me to new discoveries. But dang it, it’s not always as much fun.


The Year of What?

So what was 2015 the “year of” for me?

In a way, it was the Year of Music to Go to Bed To. Not Music to Have Sex By mind you. Music to listen to while reading in bed and about to go to sleep. There was a ton of stuff that fit this category : Ocean of Sound, The Pearl, And Then Nothing…, Stuff Like That There, Neu!, As You Like It, Shutter Island The list goes on.

The Year of Aretha? You’d think so.  I got five Aretha Franklin albums in a single shot. (For $10 no less) They range from classic to very good.  That’s pretty good, right?  But those first two observations above knock her down a bit.

The Year of Yo La Tengo? Three albums ranging from nearly great to very good. And an almost transcendent show.  Christ, I even met them. But not quite.


The Year of the Tribute Band? 

Here’s my original take on why I find tribute bands - in principal - appalling.

The bottom line is, why would I want to pay to hear something like the music I like when I could listen to exactly the music I liked for free? If you want to hear a band, go put the record on. (Oh, come on, I know you have them!)

But I was underestimating the communal aspect of things. How better to enjoy music than with other like-minded people?

And besides, in two instances it inspired me to get more music by the artist. Once with a happy ending and once not so much. But the good more than made up for it.

• The Smiths - A cover band that inspired me to get The Queen is Dead. Good show. Disappointing record.
• PJ Harvey - Various artists did a tribute to Stories from the City, Stories from the Sea - A great album to hear played live, but since Mrs. Jaybee can’t stand Harvey I had to see this one alone. 
• The Beatles - The Fab Faux at the City Winery on New Years Eve. It could have been a big let down and even boring, but it was neither. A very emotional musical highlight of the year. And let’s face it. Every year since 1963 has been the Year of the Beatles, as far as I’m concerned. So that wouldn’t make 2015 unique, would it?
• Brian Eno - Music for Enophiles, covering Eno’s semi-poppish 1974-79 period.  Me and Mrs. Jaybee had a great time at this show. We were hearing songs live that we hadn’t heard even on record for years. And it inspired me to go even deeper into Eno’s catalogue.

Which made 2015 the Year of Brian Eno, of course.

We'll talk.

Fourth Annual Jaybee-bies:Or, Up Yours 2014

How Many Times Do I Have to Explain Something Just Because It Makes No Sense?:

I’m looking back on my own personal musical year, which is what I got to hear in 2014, as opposed to what may have come out in 2014. What do I care about stuff I haven’t heard yet? I’ll get to that in my own good time.

It’s kind of sad to no longer be so in sync with current music but that’s a young person’s game. We just don’t all sing together anymore.

But no matter old the music I got in 2014 was, it was all new to me. So, my musical year is unique. As is yours. How about yours, anyway?

2014 Resolution Fails:

Sad to day, I’m doing no better with my resolutions.

No CDs? - I’m lucky if I can’t keep it down to half of what I get.

More Music from the Current Year? - Only one. Beck. I’m just too damn cautious. I need a little more Nutboy in me.

More Music Books? I did great, I think. Now I just have to read them.

Less Music? - I failed utterly, and so have officially given up. That’s just the way it is now. What, with gift cards and $5 amazon mp3s, what’s a guy to do?

Weird Fears:

And as I get more and more music, one of my great fears rears its head again. It goes like this:

For each record I get, I give that much less attention to all the rest of the music I already have and all the other other potential music out there waiting for me. Does the existence of all this great music actually end up cheapening it?

I have to resign myself to the fact that there are musicians out there right now who are making great music that I may not ever hear. I also have to get it into my head that Great Music is not a finite resource. Every day there’s more and more, but that doesn’t make any of it less great.

It speaks to my prejudice that what is valuable must also be rare.  I’m working on it.

How About a Resolution to Get to the F*cking Point?:

The end of the year was dominated by Harry Nilsson.and the Brian Jonestown Massacre. You heard me. 

Harry shows up a number of times on the songs and album lists below. BJM’s record is a compilation of their work from the mid-ninties on, and in need of a whole explanation in and of itself, so I won’t even try here.

But in the spirit of brevity - as in I couldn’t wait for this year to be over - I’ll cut to the chase.

Songs:

Each year brings hundreds of new songs, and if you rate them in iTunes like I do, you’d be awash in three star songs. Those are the ones that are perfectly fine and pass the time pleasantly enough without distracting you in a very negative (or positive way). I heard hundreds of these in 2014. You probably did, too.

The four star songs really get your attention, though. They’re superior to the\others either in melody, lyrics, execution or a combination of the above. And the best albums of the year are filled with them:

There are some of my faves:

"Draw(in)g to a (W)hole" - The Clean

"I Wait Around" - The Clean

"Blackbird Chain" - Beck  

"Sleep" - The Dandy Warhols

"Door Into Summer" - The Monkees

"It is What it Is" - Kacey Musgraves

"Drunk and Starving" - The Parquet Courts

"Here Comes the Night Part Two" - Arcade Fire  

Tell Him - Lauryn Hill

"Two Step, Step Out" - The Go Betweens

"Fling" - Built to Spill

and "Rowboat" - Beck which is not even on Morning Phase (Stereopathic Soul Manure, if you gotta know, and I do)

And then there are those rare songs that are so striking that they just stop you in your tracks. These are the ones that have a hold on you and always will.  They tend to end up on future top 100 Whatevers lists, if you know what I mean.

Like, “1941”, “Daddy’s Song” and “I Said Goodbye to Me” all, astonishingly enough, by Harry Nilsson. These three songs take the qualities I described above but in addition hit a depth of feeling I rarely hear these days and with a brevity that makes them all that more remarkable.  Don’t let that sweet melody or peppy rhythm fool you. They’re all devastating. All written over 40 years ago.

Albums:

Let’s just call this Revenge of the Puppies, shall we?

1. Morning Phase - Beck - Pretty isn’t enough. You have to love her/him/it, too.
2. Stardust - Willie Nelson - Freshness, consistency, and from an unexpected source..
3. Vehicle - The Clean - Those chiming guitars!
4. Thirteen Tales of Urban Bohemia - Dandy Warhols - Supremely crafted pop/rock.
5. Aerial Ballet - Nilsson. Often brilliant songwriting and singing.
6. Light Up Gold/Tally All the Things You Broke - Parquet Courts - Those droning guitars!
7. Aerial Pandemonium Ballet - Nilsson - Almost as often brilliant songwriting and singing
8. Same Trailer, Different Park - Kacey Musgraves - Country music redeemed via voice and words.
9. Before Hollywood - Go Betweens - Raw talent beginning to coalesce into brilliance.
10. There’s Nothing Wrong With Love - Built to Spill - Rough, noisy but full of feeling  

Most Plays:

Morning Phase - 41 Plays

There’s an aspect of this I must relate. We’ve got a small house. The computer (where I take the play count from) is in the middle of everything, and since I’m not big on headphones, what gets played here gets heard by everyone. And when you impose something on everyone, they better like it, too. So not only is this something that I like. It’s something everyone here likes.

Artist of the Year:

Harry Nilsson.

I always thought that Harry was a bit overrated. He peaked “early” with Nilsson Schmilsson, etc. But then there was the wonderful The Point. Harry and Son of Schmilsson were pretty damned good, too. But now that I’ve delved a bit more deeply I can see that Harry - despite some bad habits that probably sabotaged his career - was everything people said he was, and more. RIP Harry!

And 2014 Overall? Maybe Even Suckier Than 2013:

A couple of people who are very close to me got very sick in 2014. They recovered, thank god, but it kind of colored the year.

And music? Very good, but not quite great. In a word. Frustrating. Even Nilsson, who could write such great songs, could also do too many covers, or attempt too many styles to make a truly great album.

Perhaps I expect too much. Music can’t fix life. Some events are just too big. And we had our share of them this year. You probably did, too.

So my only resolution this year will be to love music a little less, and life a little more.

It’s all we’ve got, after all.