Containing, among other things, my humble effort to bring my fellow sixty(ish) year olds up to date on some current, and frankly, not so current, pop music.
I’ve heard it said that your long term musical interests get imprinted on your brain when you’re around fifteen years old. So whatever you were listening to at that time, is the type of music you’re listening to now.
For me, that would be 1972. And it works, to a certain extent. I did become a huge Allman Brothers fan around then, with the Dead following close behind.
But I always thought my real musical imprinting came in 1979, when I was 22. It was the year punk broke (my eardrums, anyway). There was an avalanche of records that not only sounded great, but that put me on a decades-long path of exploration that is only now dying down (or branching off even further, depending on how you’re looking at it.)
But now I’m not so sure. As I find myself less and less moved by current music, I’ve been reaching back to albums from the early seventies for a boost.
“Is this all one song?” asks Mrs. Jaybee, who, not being of Celtic origin (what a relief) doesn’t yet fully appreciate the subtle differences in/of these ten tales of tragedy and despair. To be fair it took her this long to get used to the drinking and passive aggressiveness.
“But it’s a good song!” I reply, using an argument once used against me by a fan of Slade back in high school when I was on the other side of the argument. Boy, did it sound dumb at the time. Not much better now.
Okay, I’ll admit that most of these melodies came from somewhere else first. At least half the songwriting credits say “Traditional”, which is a higher batting average than say, oh, Led Zeppelin.
Anyway, FC plays and sings these tunes with gusto. After all, they’ve got Richard Thompson on guitar, a damned good rhythm section, and Sandy Denny on vocals.
So much gusto, in fact, that the originals sound like they could have been written three hundred years ago.
And I’m sure whoever was 15 at that time would have loved them, too.
And I'm willing to bet Mrs. Jaybee comes around, too. She married me, after all. A-
Ever since some key albums imprinted themselves on my brain during past holiday seasons - thus forever coloring my recollections of those times - I’ve been trying to engineer the holiday spirit via pop music.
I figure I’m getting music anyway. Why not try to time it and select it in such a way that the holiday spirit is guaranteed?
Insane! I agree. Real life should be providing the spirit, not music.
Engineered Joy! Guilty! But spontaneity is really overrated.
And, of course, people remind me of, uh, Actual Holiday Music, which I’ll admit exists, but which has only a limited effect on me. Here’s the whole sad tale.
So there’s nothing like hearing great new music on the Wednesday night before Thanksgiving to give the overall holiday season an added bump.
And when it works, it works!
Don’t believe me?
Digging the Fossil Record:
Here are some records I will forever associate with past holiday seasons, and the years they marked:
1969 - Abbey Road, of course. It played constantly during Christmas break. A great memory from a childhood that was about to end.
1977 - Sailin’ Shoes by Little Feat - The opening number - “Easy to Slip” - took about two seconds to kick in, and first made me aware of the impact music could have on my state of mind during the holiday season. The rest of the album can barely keep up.
1980 - Remain in Light by Talking Heads - It had just come out and was capturing everyone’s attention. It was nice to feel young and part of what was going on at the time.
1983 - High Land, Hard Rain by Aztec Camera - It has more than enough melody and emotion to overcome its minor flaws, and haunt my imagination for the entire holiday season.
1985 - By now I was consciously seeking out music to accompany the holidays.
Wise Guy by Kid Creole and the Coconutsstarted the season off with a bang, assuring me before the first cut was over, that it was going to be a good holiday. Getting married that year had something to do with it, too.
And that’s where Listen by A Flock of Seagulls (Yes, those FOSGs!) comes in. Mrs. Jaybee got this one, and since I’m the self appointed music arbiter in the house (it’s in the pre-nup) I’ll decide what’s good and bad, thank you! But in the spirit of the holidays, I tolerated this. Then it kicked in at New Years, when Mrs. Jaybee and I, after having been out and about for most of the night, stayed up even later just talking and listening to this. If this sounds lame (and I don’t blame you) play “Transfer Affection” at 4am with the one you love.
1986 - Paul Simon - A truly great album at any time of year, but it’s one you can listen to by a quiet fireplace. Don’t worry if you don’t have one. This record will make you feel like you do.
1992 - Harvest Moon by Neil Young - Two am on Christmas morning, after the guests have left. But the hidden masterpiece is the strange “Natural Beauty”.
1993 - Lucinda WilliamsThere were a lot of other records happening at the time that were almost as good, but “Side of the Road” and “Crescent City” gives this one the edge. One of my all time favorites.
1996 - Moving by the Raincoats - Nothing major, but sweet and weird. I was feeling weird myself at the time.
1997 - Diary of a Mod Housewife by Amy Rigby - Beauty, both lavish (“Sad Tale”) and spare (“Knapsack”), and a dose of reality (“Beer and Kisses”). Good for new beginnings.
2007 - Fox Confessor Brings the Flood by Neko Case - It had to compete with Oceans Apart that year, and because it was a little weirder, took a back seat for a while, until we kept playing it and playing it and playing it, well into Spring.
Aside from a consistent theme of utter desolation (perfect for the holidays!) - plus a bit of joy to keep you going - what else do these records have in common?
They’re song-based and melodic. As simple as that. And they kick in right away. No multiple listens needed to know what you’ve got.
You’ll notice there are some years missing. That’s not because I somehow don’t remember. Nerds like me keep records!
Those years are the ones where the music just didn’t work, like when I got hilariously wrong with Daydream Nation by Sonic Youth. A very worthy album but completely inappropriate. (Duh!) The holidays are not the time to get adventurous. It just proves that Great Music does not necessarily equal a Great Time.
And 2014?:
And it didn’t work this year, either. What went wrong?
Well, first, the albums have to be pretty great. That’s a tall order under the best of circumstances, and not much has risen to that level lately.
The other reasons I’ll give below. I’m tempted to review these albums on how they function as holiday music but that would be a mighty harsh assessment. I’ll just do my best to rate them as albums and explain how none of them put me in the holiday spirit:
A perfectly good album, but wow, what a let down! This is unfair. After the powerhouse I Wanna See the Bright Lights Tonight how could I think another R< record could compete? Oh, it's beginning to emerge from the shadow of that classic to stand on its own, but I doubt I’ll ever consider it an equal.
So we now know that the strategy of going with an old reliable can actually backfire! B+
Really? I thought this would sound nice? Why didn't I just get more Sonic Youth? It starts off with a song about a one-armed dwarf, for chrissakes, and goes from there. I thought I might be able to catch Tom before he took the plunge into the ditch, but by this point he's definitely hit it, and bounced a time or two. This is not necessarily a bad thing. I like Mule Variations, but it did take 20 listens or so to get there. There’s no time for that during the holidays! Not bad at all, just nothing I'd play around the Christmas dinner table, unless I was trying to clear the room. B
Probably the best of the three. A new artist (to me). Song driven, I’d heard. But it wasn’t clear on the first listen. Guitar driven, I’d heard, but I didn’t know it would be an angular, noisy guitar. The whiny vocals (Freedy Johnston going apesh*t.) can put you off, too. The lyrics are right up front and interesting, the chord changes very idiosyncratic. Very worthwhile, but just not pretty enough for this wonderful time of year. A-
So 2014 was a pretty big fail.
No music to fill my empty head during boring meetings at work. No magic added to my life via music.
As much as I talk about music, I ran out of things I felt like listening to about two weeks ago, and my house had something it hadn’t had in a long time - silence. For hours or even days at a time.
So I may need to take a break. Music was just not of huge interest to me this month, or at least it couldn’t overcome what real life occasionally dishes out.
It’s probably a temporary thing. Tomorrow something could come out of left field, blow me away, and me and music are best buddies again. It’s happened before.
But right now I’m feeling doubtful. I no longer look at album lists and see potential joy. Just temporary encounters that may offer limited fun, but no transcendence. Perhaps I expect too much.
Or I could try to find the Magic in real life. It’s there, along with the Loss, which is what I tend to dwell on. I’ll just have to resolve to recognize the Magic while it’s happening.
There’s nothing that says “I’m Forcing You to Listen to the Music I Like One Last Time” more than planning your own Wake and Funeral Soundtrack. I’ve had less than flattering things to say about wedding and gift CDs in the past, so you might think me a hypocrite to suggest something similar for my wake. But so what? I’ll be dead.
And there are some who might consider such a project to be the ultimate in procrastination – after all, there’s got to be something else that requires more urgent attention than a playlist I'll never get to hear. Estate planning, showering, etc.
But I happen to think it’s a worthwhile exercise.
Do you want to make ‘em weep? “Don’t Cry for Me Argentina” might work. (Nothing says Do like Don’t)
Are you resentful of some people in your life? Try Big Star’s sarcastic “Thank You Friends”. They’ll end up glad you’re dead, which, when you think about it, is very considerate of you.
There’s also Warren Zevon’s “I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead”. Much more appropriate for those dying young, this might get a snicker since a more appropriate title for me now is “I’ll Sleep Right Here Where I’m Sitting”.
Of course, there are some songs that are best left out:
The Beatles “Getting Better All the Time” - Even I’m not that sarcastic.
Frank Sinatra “High Hopes” – A barn door closed too late, if ever there was one.
So here's my official list:
"Fox in the Snow" by Belle and Sebastian:
It's just so freaking sad, I had to include it. I want to make sure somebody’s crying.
"My Friends" by the Red Hot Chili Peppers:
Since it's not all about me, I guess I should say thanks, as I have to make up for Big Star.
“The Story of My Life” by the Velvet Underground:
The music is so unassuming and sweet that you could miss the despairing lyrics.
“My Life” by Iris DeMent:
Of course, if you think your life’s been a waste, it might help to put this on It'd make you feel better, if you were still alive, that is.
"At Last" by Neko Case:
This one's a little more defiant.
"When it’s Cold, I’d Like to Die" by Moby:
Wish granted!
"My Weakness" by Moby:
Moby's just so good at this kind of thing. This one's good for either death of alien abduction.
"Casimir Pulaski Day" by Sufjan Stevens:
This one ought to get them crying again.
"When I Get to the Borderline" by Richard and Linda Thompson:
But let's not despair. Richard's good for a rueful grin, if not exactly a laugh.
"Wall of Death" by Richard and Linda Thompson:
Another F*ck You Death! song.
"That Day is Done" by Elvis Costello:
Co-written by Paul McCartney, it's an uncharacteristically direct look at death. You can play it instead of "Will the Circle Be Unbroken".
"Don’t Forget About Me" by Dusty Springfield:
If you want to haunt your relatives and friends.
“Boundary Rider” by the Go Betweens:
It has nothing to do with me, other than that I love it, but it sounds nice. You can chisel those lyrics on my headstone if you like.
But for the mourners themselves I’d suggest playing most of Funeral by Arcade Fire, but I think I’d be presumptuous to assume that anyone would get that excited about my passing, except in maybe a good way. Your choice.
"Sweetness Follows" by REM:
It's going to be all right.
"Underneath the Weeping Willow" by Grandaddy:
Maybe the saddest song I’ve ever heard. But at the end you get permission to be happy again.
“It’s Summertime” by the Flaming Lips:
The Lips repeat that idea. You can play this on June 22 following my wake. If anybody still gives a damn, that is.
And that's that.
Mrs. Jaybee thinks this line of thinking is nuts, but I think not planning this is like not getting ice for a party. The iceman cometh. Twice! Lucky him.
My doubts about the mainstream are only growing by now. Good music is officially “hard to find”, at least for me, a seventeen year old. By which I mean I can no longer simply turn the radio on and expect to hear something I really like.
Forget AM radio. Never being fond of brass or strings, I only liked Motown from a distance. So I missed out on the pleasures of much ‘70s soul.
And FM? I could get by but not without constantly changing the station. So there’s very little below that I actually heard there and enjoyed at the time. So with very few exceptions, it would only be later that I’d find the records below.
The following, is more or less in descending order of quality:
The one true masterpiece is Richard and Linda Thompson’s “I Want To See The Bright Lights Tonight” which reminds me of the first Paul Simon album - simple arrangements and great songs. But Richard's also got his guitar and wife Linda singing along, making this one of the very best of the decade.
Randy Newman seemed to be on a mission to piss off the world - something he wouldn't quite accomplish until a few years later with "Short People". He started with his very weird first solo record, moved onto “Twelve Songs”, where phrases like “yellow man” and “darkies” popped up all over the place. “Sail Away” was a bit of a relief, but on “Good Old Boys”, he goes all out with the strings and tells stories of the American South, now using the N word.
What Randy's got going for him, though, is brilliant songwriting. "Marie" is one of the greatest love songs ever (but only when sung by Randy himself). “Louisiana 1928” would be merely moving if it didn't also remind you of Louisiana 2005. This one's my favorite by him.
If you like to read about music, you’ve already heard about Big Star’s “Radio City”. So all I’m going to say is that what you’ve heard is true. On first listen you might not think much of it because the Beatles were better. Just remember that the Beatles were better than everybody.
“Feats Don't Fail Me Now” was the Little Feat album that made me a fan. Little Feat remind me of beer – the first one you have is always the best.
I'm still waiting for someone to turn “Between Today and Yesterday” into a Broadway musical. Alan Price proves that he's got it with this take on his childhood in the coal towns of England. There are moments on this record that elicit such an emotional response in me (something that I’ll explain at a later time) that I am certain most people will think I'm nuts. I’d like a second opinion.
Neil Young was well into his blue period by now, and people (including me) were beginning to wonder about him, but only after first actually purchasing his records. At first, I was disappointed by “On the Beach”. Side one could be better. I heard a better “See the Sky About to Rain” on a live bootleg with just Neil on the piano. And “Vampire Blues” just isn't funny enough. Ah, but side two! This isn't mood music. It's trance music. And it probably sent most people scurrying back to side one. But it was where I wanted to live. “Motion Pictures” is one of his great depressing songs, but it's the finale "Ambulance Blues" that’s a masterpiece. You're all just pissin in the wind….
I've come to distrust those albums with too serious a theme. But Al Stewart is very likable, so his take on history - “Past Present and Future” - is enjoyable anyway. And like me, you don’t have to believe the Nostradamus stuff to love the last song. This one’s just before Al hits the big time.
You’d think a white British guy trying to sing New Orleans-style and basically stealing Little Feat’s sound, would piss me off a little more. But Robert Palmer’s “Sneakin Sally Through the Alley” ends up sounding better than it sounds, maybe because he used Little Feat as his band. This one bought him a lot of good will from me. And it would only be when he started wearing a suit that I began to find him unbearable.
Most Billy Joel fans love “Turnstiles” or “The Stranger” the best. But don’t overlook “Streetlife Serenader”. It’s a little calmer than his major label debut, and less supercilious (it’s really a word, I swear. Someone called me it once.) There’s some filler on it, but the ones that aren’t, like “Roberta” are quietly wonderful.
And although the following records technically came out in 1973, I’m putting them into 1974, because the artists had already released something else in ’73. That, and ‘cause I felt like it: It took until “Europe 72” for me to like the Grateful Dead. I then went back to rehear what I had been missing. So the subsequent “Bear’s Choice” almost slipped through the cracks. Plus, I preferred their harmonies to Pigpen’s blues. But side one is gentle and side two is almost hypnotic. Thank you, Pigpen!
One of the highlights of my musical life was that Saturday morning in my room doing homework when I first heard “Incident on 52nd St”. Another was that Sunday afternoon, again in my room, hearing “Rosalita” followed by “NYC Serenade”. I would have sworn that Bruce Springsteen was black or Puerto Rican. I found his mix of rock and roll, latin horns, semi-soul music, and female background choruses intoxicating. Then, when I actually bought “The Wild, the Innocent and the E Street Shuffle” and found that these three songs took up side two, running seven, seven and ten minutes respectively. One of the great, and most audacious, sides in all of rock and roll. Side one’s a bit tame in comparison, but quite good under any other circumstances.
In sum, like the year before, I’m spending more and more time in my room listening to music, instead of hanging with friends doing so. That’s because my friends and I didn’t share the same tastes. That splintering of taste I referred to in prior posts is continuing unabated.
In retrospect, 1974 was not a bad year. The problem is that you should not have to wait for “in retrospect” to know.
I knew going into 2009 that it was going to be an exhausting year – there was just a lot going on, both personally and professionally – but nothing that an adult couldn’t handle.And my way of dealing with stress is… well, you know.
Winter in Paris (Sort Of):
Ever since I first heard Edith Piaf singing in the background at some fancy-schmancy restaurant I was trying to avoid getting thrown out of - waiters in tuxes, no menu, dining by a living room fireplace - I was smitten.Being somewhat of a procrastinator/cheapskate, it took thirty years and five bucks (cheap date!) to consummate my smittenship.
And a tragedy of sorts - Virgin closed two megastores in my town.(More tragic was their idea of a going-out-of-business sale - prices that were still higher than the everyday prices at my favorite record store, which is doing quite well thank you very much.)The single disc “Voice of the Sparrow: The Very Best of Edith Piaf “ probably wouldn't satisfy the typical Edith Piaf fanatic but it suits me just fine (except that the CD is flawed and the last song craps out on me.The same thing happened to my son’s “Legend” by John Lennon, bought from the same store.No wonder the bastards went out of business.)She’s got that joie de vivre and je ne se quoi and all those other few remaining things we don’t yet hate about the French.
---------------- Now playing: Édith Piaf - La Vie en rosevia FoxyTunes
Spring is for Jazz Lovers:
John Coltrane “Live” at the Village Vanguard is your typical JC album, if there is such a thing. Again, I thought I'd get that great songI heard on the radio twenty years ago, thinking perhaps it was "Chasin the Trane." I could swear there was a “train” (or “trane”) in the title.Well, wrong again. But it's never a waste with JC. This one fits neatly between “My Favorite Things” and “A Love Supreme”. I'm just proud of myself that I didn't go off the deep end and get the 4CD expanded version.
Oliver Nelson's “The Blues and the Abstract Truth” has medigging a little deeper into jazz, past the obvious greats, to some lesser-knowns, and why not? Like Avis, they try harder. This early-sixties record boasts an incredible lineup (Bill Evans, Eric Dolphy, Roy Haynes, etc.) great sound, accessible tunes, but with enough of a twist to keep things interesting. Definitely worth checking out.
Stan Getz/Joao Gilberto, Featuring Antonio Carlos Jobim
And why didn’t Astrud (Ms. Gilberto) get her name on the cover?After all, she’s the (admittedly non-professional) singer.You’ve heard them.Remember “The Girl from Impanema”?You could play it in the morning, or for dinner guests, but not, for God's sake, after dinner.You'll put everyone to sleep and then you'll never get rid of them.You'll be tempted to put them up for the night.Don't.Get them up and out with the Hold Steady and Gogol Bordello records I told you about.They'll never bother you again.Ever.
---------------- Now playing: Antônio Carlos Jobim - The Girl From Impanemavia FoxyTunes
I Have No Class(ical Music):
Okay, that’s an exaggeration.But it’s taken a back seat to pop and jazz.
I read somewhere that Holst's “The Planets” isone of the most popular classical music pieces for people in my neck of the woods.I’ve gotten CDs for dumber reasons than that, so I picked up the one by the Berlin Philharmonic (I’d put the German spelling, but then you might think there’s a harmonica on the record, and I’m almost positive there isn’t one) with Simon Rattle conducting.This one’s got a bonus disc of other space oriented pieces by other conductors.This is just the type of gimmick to pull in ignoramuses (ignorami?) like me.It’s pretty cool, but you have to keep adjusting the volume, because Mars and Venus, as you might expect, are not on the same page.It takes me months or even years to get into some jazz and world music.It may take a millennium for classical music.But in the meantime, this one won’t make you run away screaming, or sleeping.
The Benedictine Monks of Santo Domingo de Silos – “Chant”
This is the tenth anniversary bonus edition.(Not of the music, dummy.Of the major cash-in on said music just this past century.)Two CDs are more than I need but I can’t pass up a bargain. Is it me or are these dudes singing the same song over and over again?(I wonder if they ever thought of hiring a drummer?) For all I know, they just put two copies of the same disc in there.
In any case, I smell a rat, and suspect the whole thing is a scam, dreamed up in the 14th century, to entice me down this branch of speculation, just to waste my (and now your) time. Morning music.Early morning. Maybe even before those Requiems.
Father's Day!
Ah, my favorite day of the year, when my family has no choice but to let me do whatever the hell I want.This year I spent it in the backyard, listening to the music they got me.How do they know what to get me, you ask?Oh, they know.I make sure of it.Three words: Amazon.Wish.List.
My biggest problem with rap music is that it forces you to listen.As important as the sound may be, it’s the words that matter.Whereas I can listen to and love a pop record for months before I ever understand the lyrics, rap doesn’t give me that luxury.De La Soul’s “Three Feet High and Rising” is very smart hip hop from the late eighties.They don’t fit into any fifty-something’s idea of what rap music is - they’re more nerds than thugs, which makes for a nice surprise.So I’ll need more time with this one. ---------------- Now playing: De La Soul - The Magic Numbervia FoxyTunes
How about an album of Dylan covers that won’t make you yawn?Well, you start with great but obscure songs, and then you don’t get all serious about it.That’s how McGuinness Flint Coulssen and Dean came up with “Lo and Behold”.I admit that I prefer most of the originals, but then again I’m a “Basement Tapes” fanatic.But for anyone not familiar with these songs, it’s a revelation.The singing is a bit too high, and some of the music isn’t very adventurous, but these guys had the right idea.
Sometime’s a record is so good that I’m reluctant to get something else by the artist, for fear that I’ll be disappointed and feel like a sucker.Belle and Sebastian’s “If You’re Feeling Sinister” was one of the great records of the nineties, and I’ve been wondering which of their several other records I should try.Then I spot “Tigermilk” – their first album, but released in the US years later.Legend has it that this was a final project for a music class they were taking in college.(All I ever did was a term paper.)It’s a bit more tuneful, if that’s possible, than “Sinister”.It’s also a bit less profound, but so what? Tuneful will keep me coming back. Ah, the trials and tribulations of coeds!The highlight for me is the warm, loving "I Don't Love Anyone".Only the disturbing cover prevents me from showing it to company.
Pavement was/is a nineties lo-fi, noise-rock group whose approach was to play and sing in tune most of the time.Having gotten their first record, “Slanted and Enchanted”, way back when, I knew what to expect from “Brighten the Corners”, and settled in for about a dozen listens before passing judgment.They dare you to hate them, and there are times when I take them up on it.But I’ve probably listened to it more than any other record this year, if only to get to the bottom of the damned thing.So I guess the joke’s on me.I’d recommend it, but I’m tired of getting those funny looks.
Did I say Father’s Day was the best day of the year?Yes, because on that day I share the burden of having a good time with all my no good, beer drinking brethren.It provides the solidarity and support needed to keep the guilt away, and the cover to annoy the rest of the population as a group.
Not so birthdays.You’re on your own, brother, as your family watches you sink under the weight of expectations that you know how to enjoy yourself.Sometimes it all collapses and the pathetic charade is revealed.Then, even the Amazon Wish List isn’t enough to save you (or your family).
Maybe it was an end of summer blues.Maybe it was the there’s more to lifethan music feeling that overcame me.Maybe I’m just done.But I immediately regretted getting The Mekons, the Streets and DJ Shadow.Now I think I get why - I already had something by each of them, and thus was flouting my main shopping basket culling rule (link).Was I lowering my standards and opening the floodgates to even more, and possibly more mediocre, CDs.
Too late now.These guys better pony up.
The Mekons made one of my favorite rock and roll albums in 1989. It was imaginatively titled “Rock and Roll”. “Fear and Whiskey” (really, “Original Sin”, which incorporated F&W and extra stuff) was an earlier, rawer record that had some fierce rock and roll, country and avant garde spoken word mishmashes. It was a little more daunting so I decided to keep my Mekons records spaced out by ten years or so. “OOOH!” is short for Out of Our Heads. It leans more to the country, songish side, but is quite sharp. Still sinking in.
Ten years ago, I got DJ Shadow’s "Endtroducing..." (on the same time as “If You’re Feeling Sinister”!) which was also one of the most potent records of that decade. Now that “Tigermilk” had panned out, I decide to dip in for DJ Shadow’s second record, “The Private Press”. DJS samples hundreds of records, shatters them into a million pieces, and re-assembles them to form something new.It's also not quite sunk in yet (“Endtroducing” took some time, too) and it sounds a bit too much like the first (after all, where do you go from there?) but I've learned to give him some time.
Right now, The Streets first album “Original Pirate Material” is sounding way over-rated.I really enjoyed their second one “A Grand Don’t Come for Free”, which seemed funnier and more tuneful.OPM reeks of self-importance, which comes in handy when the music itself is a little lacking.
Some families are made up of Jedi knights.Some not.But like my father before me, I took my son to the record store.(Okay, dad would have brought me to the corner bar, but whatever.)One of his favorite bands – The Used - was playing there, and I got to browse.That’s where I found Modest Mouse’s The Moon and Antarctica”.This provided some relief because it took the edge off “Good News for People Who Like Bad News”.And like that record, it’s a real “album album” in that it has variety – some good tunes, some challenging cuts, that all hang together very well.
---------------- Now playing: Modest Mouse - Third Planetvia FoxyTunes
By now I was feeling that while everything was good, nothing was Great.I had to reach outside of the decade.
Although we can agree that there was a lot of great music made in the sixties, it was not all necessarily crowded together on the same albums. It was a time of singles, and you could only expect great albums from the major artists. So any album outside of that select group is automatically suspect. To my great delight I sometimes find exceptions to this rule.
It’s 1968, and The Zombies’ “Odyssey and Oracle” - their last stab at a hit after a several year dry spell - sinks like a stone. Two years later, “Time of the Season” becomes a hit.But it's too late - the Zombies are no more. Decades pass, and word finally gets around that “Odyssey and Oracle” is a wonderful record.It’s aged quite well, and there's not a bad song on it. I’ve got the one with the ten bonus cuts, all worthwhile and then some. Even the lyrics are good. Highly recommended.
Neutral Milk Hotel’s “In the Aeroplane Over the Sea” starts off well enough, andthere are some intriguing tunes, but when you give more prominence to the flugelhorn instead of the guitar, don’t expect a big fan base. This is okay.But then the singing is , well.... not that there's anything wrong with it.
Young cousin Michelle is making me look bad, talking classical music, dropping composers names and all.Concerto this, Opus that.Hey, I’m the adult here!But next time I’ll be ready for her.I got Mahler’s Second Symphony, per her recommendation.I plan to get every record she ever mentions just so that I can say “Oh yes, I’m familiar with that one…” (Maybe I’ll challenge her to arm wrestling instead…)Anyway, Gustave’s an emotional guy and he does deliver the goods.You don’t get bored.It’s got a good beat and you can dance to it.
Thanksgiving:
This is the time for song based records that artificially inject magic into what should be a magic time of year.What can I tell you?I need all the help I can get.
And if your idea of magic is the story of a couple from hell slowly destroying themselves, the Mountain Goats “Tallahassee” is just for you.Wow, these guys don’t mess around.John Darnielle doesn’t skimp on the words or over arrange the music.His thin, high voice might be annoying if not paired with striking music and oh so sharp lyrics.Funny too, but dark…
You’ve heard of Richard Thompson, right?He’s been around for ages – playing with Fairport Convention, which did rock tinged versions of English folk ballads and Bob Dylan songs.He left in the early seventies and has been making solo records ever since.So he’s got a career that spans almost six decades, and you’re wondering where to start.I can think of worse places than his first record with his then wife Linda, “I Want to See the Bright Lights Tonight” (1974).It’s all here: the songwriting, the guitar playing, the singing (Linda Thompson has one of the great voices in pop music, and even Richard sounds good.)With its accordion when needed, even my mom would like this record.It’s worth checking out anyway.It might be a great one.
The title song is great, and it was instrumental in making me break one of my golden rules – just because you like the song you heard on the radio, don’t buy the CD because you’ll end up hating it when they play it to death . Besides the album may not be as good.Okay, less a rule than a voice inside my head.The jury’s out on this.It’s certainly tuneful enough.Maybe a little too pretty and polished.But it’s full of feeling, and that’s worth a lot.
I can hold onto a dollar, but it’s hard to resist those “You’ve got a free CD in your cart” offers.I must act.And Radiohead’s “Kid A” has been hanging out on my “to buy” list for some time (along with at least a thousand others) so it wasn’t anything pressing.No sooner do I get it when I find out that Rolling Stone has declared it Album of the Decade. I didn’t realize they were monitoring me that closely.Well, this came out in 2000, and it took me until the very end of 2009 to hear it. Oh, yeah, I’m all over this decade.
This is a special time in my house, when we each watch in horror at what CDs the other family members receive.And since these same family members are both perpetrator and victim of this practice, it can be the source of a year’s worth of recriminations.
That amazon wish list heads off those problems for me, if not them.Some are not so lucky.
My gifts included Manu Chao’s hit-them-with-everything-you’ve-got world music “Esperanza: Proxima Estacion” and The Xx’s spacey, spare debut record.I’ll let you know.
Then there’s the gift card to that record store, which might mean yet another record before the years over.So I can’t even sum up a year, let alone a decade.
