Brenda, or, For a Rocker

I first met Brenda back in 1981.  She was my girlfriend’s roommate and best friend. 

She usually wore denim, but I like to remember her wearing a leather jacket, because she always reminded me of Chrissie Hynde, even though they didn’t really look all that much alike.

But, like Chrissie, Brenda was a rocker.  Not a loud obnoxious poser, mind you.  Just someone who loved rock and roll, a cigarette and a beer.  She was actually quiet and unassuming.  But a rocker, nonetheless.

My friends could never figure her out.  But there was nothing to figure out.  Brenda was there for all to see and know.  She didn’t try to shove it in your face.  I thought she was just great.

Brenda was on the “other side” of the big musical debates of the day – punk vs. metal, Grateful Dead vs. Led Zeppelin, etc.  (Let’s not even touch politics.)  But, man, she could surprise you.  She bought “Purple Rain” before any of us – because she liked what she heard on the radio, and was honest enough to go with that.  I always admired that.

A few years ago, I got "Hank Williams Greatest Hits" as a Christmas present.  When I first put it on,  I braced myself for my wife's reaction.  But she just sang along.  It seems that Brenda would put it on when they were cleaning the apartment together.

Brenda took my poke at Led Zeppelin with good humor, even though I know it kind of pissed her off a little.  She was good like that.  Or she was just used to putting up with my  bullsh*t.

We hung out a lot, drinking, talking.  Then everybody started to get married.  Me and my girlfriend.  Brenda and her boyfriend.  When the kids came along, there would be the baptism or communion parties, but we saw less and less of each other.  And when she and her family moved upstate, and then to Pennsylvania, we’d go years without seeing each other.

One of my favorite memories of her was from September of 2005.  She came into town with her sister Mary (another rocker, and pretty f*cking fearless, I might add) and daughters Kelly - Brenda’s spitting image - and Shannon, one of the sweetest kids I ever met.  Kelly wanted to see the White Stripes, who were playing at a local outdoor venue.  The Shins, who we loved, were the opening act.  So what the hell, let’s all go.  We had a nice barbecue at the house, and then headed out to the stadium with - what else? - a cooler full of beer.

Brenda had just gotten over a bout of cancer, so although her outfit was the usual denim, her hair was a post-chemo crew cut.  She was by far the coolest looking person there, even though she was twenty years older than most of them.  Kelly got into the show while the rest of us hung out in the parking lot, or wandered around the boardwalk.  It was a beautiful fall evening at the beach with music, beer and old friends.  We even ran into my cousin the police captain doing crowd control.  I’ll never forget his What the hell are you doing here? expression.  Anyway, it was great night with too much beer drank by all concerned, so everybody slept over.

My wife had her own battle with cancer the year before, with more to come later, so we had the added dimension of post-war camaraderie.  Being all city kids, we were sharp enough to understand that we may have only been between world wars.  So I’d be lying if I said “little did we know”.  We knew very well indeed.  They would both have to fight their wars again. 

We last saw Brenda a month ago.  Nobody was kidding themselves about the situation – she was clearly near the end- and hospice arrangements were being made.  I’d like to say it was like a Hallmark movie but that would be a crock.  Real life is always there, staring you in the face.  But Brenda always just stared right back at it.

I tried to impress her kids with stories of her drummer ex-boyfriend, seeing Rocky Horror how many times, and going to local clubs to see some unknown punk band.  But it really wasn’t necessary.  They already knew she was cool.

Both of us being Irish, we aren’t very demonstrative with our emotions.  But when we left that day, we gave each other the strongest hug I can remember.  Even though she was wearing a heavy robe, I could still feel her bones.

Brenda died last Thursday. 

Now her kids, who also lost their father a few years ago, will carry on.  Sean, Kelly, Shannon – you are wonderful, intelligent, beautiful young people.  Go make your mom proud.  I know you will because you have a part of her in you.

Brenda wasn’t a celebrity.  She wasn’t rich or famous.  But she had class, which means she wouldn’t rate a mention on Access Hollywood.  I consider that a badge of honor.  She was just a friend (and a sister and a mother and…) who you could hang out with.  Brenda just was.

So, if you read this, goddamn it, you’re going to f*cking know she existed.

Love you, Brenda.  Rest in Peace.

The 00s, or, Why I Aughtta...

Delayed Reactions:

At family gatherings, my dear old dad had the curious habit of reviving topics that we had finished discussing the hour before. At 4pm, let’s say, we would be discussing how the local football team sucked, but by five we’d have moved onto how the local baseball team sucked. Just as we’d be ripping into an overpaid leftfielder dad would bring up the overpaid quarterback again, and suddenly we’d all be back on football.

Well I’m getting more like my dad all the time. Young folks listen to music, decide what’s a hit, and move on to the next thing. With radio being the big waste of time it is, and me with my so-called adult life, I don’t even hear about that music until the next year when the annual-best-of polls come out. (But now, thanks to metacritic.com, I at least know what people think when it first comes out.)

It’s that time lag that kept me from getting a CD from this decade until late 2001. So there I am, pretending to be cool by advocating music that the target demographic has long since finished with, and that my demographic couldn’t care less about.

Now add to that the fact that I’m still catching up on other decades (not to mention centuries), and it means that a lot of my musical highlights came from other decades:

• The 90s: The Magnetic Fields’ “69 Love Songs”, Randy Newman’s “Faust”, Luna’s “Penthouse” and Belle and Sebastian’s “Tigermilk”
• The 80s: Nothing. Screw you, 80s.
• The 70s: Richard & Linda Thompson’s “I Want to See the Bright Lights Tonight”, Nick Drake’s “Five Leaves Left” and “Pink Moon”
• The 60s: Brian Wilson’s “Smile”, The Zombies’ “Odyssey and Oracle”
• The 50s: John Coltrane/Thelonious Monk Quartet - Live at Carnegie Hall

Then there is my lifetime self improvement project, resulting in my getting some great compilations of Hank Williams, Charlie Parker, Duke Ellington, Johnny Cash, Scott Joplin, Louis Armstrong, and Igor Stravinsky. And let’s not forget “Nuggets”.

My reactions to music outside of my favorite genres – rock/pop – can sound more appreciative than enthusiastic. Sorry, it just takes me more time to learn the new territory. Here are ten records - jazz/hip-hop/world/classical - that I’ve probably underrated out of sheer density.

• Jazz: Benny Goodman’s “Famous Carnegie Hall Concert”
• Hip Hop: Kanye West’s “The College Dropout”, Burial’s “Untrue”, De la Soul’s “Three Feet High and Rising”
• World: “The Music In My Head”, “Rough Guide to Youssou N’Dour and Etoile Dakar”
• Classical: Mozart’s and Brahm’s Requiems, Mahler’s Second Symphony,
• Country: James Tally’s “Got No Money, No Bread, But We Sure Got a Lot of Love”

If you care to know all the dirty details of my musical decade, check out these posts: 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, and 2009.

Quick Jaybee, Before It’s 2019:

If I winnow it all down to just those records I got this decade that actually came out this decade, and that I love without reservation, they are, no particular order:

Old 97s - Satellite Rides

Good old alt-country-ish rock and roll from start to finish. The voice and lyrics are a bonus.

Fountains of Wayne – Welcome Interstate Managers

Perfect pop songs, about real life.

Shins – Chutes Too Narrow

Tunes up the wazoo, with a couple of the decade’s greatest songs.

Sufjan Stevens - Illinois

Ditto with the tunes, but more orchestration. And at least three of the best songs of the decade.

Arcade Fire - Funeral

So full of passion, you don’t quite believe it. But they mean it, man.

Neko Case – Fox Confessor Brings the Flood

What a voice! And how beautiful is that spare sound.

The Go Betweens – Oceans Apart

Getting older, looking back, just in time.

Badly Drawn Boy – The Hour of Bewilderbeast

A White Album for our decade.

PJ Harvey - Stories of the City, Stories of the Sea

“I feel immortal when I’m with you.”

Wussy - Funeral Dress

“And if they offered I would take it, a free ride out of this place…”

Honorable Mentions/Bronze Medals/Ms. Congenialities:

These records are great! but maybe not GREAT. That’s okay. We’d all like to meet Abe Lincoln, but we probably don’t want to spend the whole party with him:

The Wrens “The Meadowlands”, The Flaming Lips’ “Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots”, Orlando Lopez’s “Cachaito”, The Red Hot Chili Peppers “By the Way”, Modest Mouse’s “Good News for People Who Like Bad News”, Orchestre Baobab’s “Specialists in all Styles”, The Streets “A Grand Don’t Come for Free”, Radiohead’s “Kid A” and “In Rainbows”.

And just to give this some context, here’s a sampling of what some major news outlets said:

Rolling Stone

Paste Magazine

Robert Christgau
Metacritic

NME (if you want to hear what's going on across the pond)

Going Forward:

There was a hell of a lot more to this decade than just music. Not all of it good, by any means. But music is my safe haven where magic happens - just a simulation of life’s real joys, which unfortunately can’t be burned onto a CD to be played at will. Music can, however, reminder me that those joys do exist. Sometimes I forget.

Sometimes music lets me down. It happens when I’ve asked more from it than it can possibly provide. I begin to think that I’m done with it, and that in the new decade I’ll be looking elsewhere (Books? Art? Other human beings, perhaps?) for magic. But then those decade-end polls just whet my appetite all over again.

It’s good to be alive, for any number of reasons. Music is definitely one of them.

Decade: 2005 - Bottoming Out, But With a Brief Happy Ending

Winter Blues Redux Ad Nauseum:

In what was becoming a recurring pattern in my life, I was down in the dumps in January. But even by my standards, this was a bad time. So I headed out to the record store for sustenance.

When I put on Arcade Fire’s “Funeral” now, I can’t believe how inspiring it is, and how far down I must have been that it didn’t work on me right away. Instead, I took it in, acknowledged that it was a good album, and filed it away. It came roaring back a couple of months later, and gave me some hope.
---------------- Now playing: Arcade Fire - In the Back Seat via FoxyTunes

I was expecting more from Rilo Kiley’s “More Adventurous”, but that happens sometimes. Jenny Lewis has a very pleasing voice, and writes good tunes, but the very dark lyrics provide too jarring a contrast. And the band is too intent on making a hit. Which is ironic given that the high point is “It’s a Hit” – a smackdown for our last president, and some others I don’t happen to know.

---------------- Now playing: Rilo Kiley - It's a Hit via FoxyTunes

At my job, the closest thing we had to a compulsive liar was the guy who kept using phrases like “keeping it real” and “G-unit” and such. I thought he’d be impressed when I told him that I got a record by “Kane West”. Never heard of him, he said. Then I put on my reading glasses I saw that it said Kanye. Not my coolest moment.

Well, even us lame fifty-year-olds can pronounce his name now, and not necessarily because of his music. Kanye West has a habit of saying asinine things. Isn’t that the sign of genius? Kanye thinks so. But I quibble. Here’s a great couplet from “We Don’t Care” which is on The College Dropout:

“We weren’t supposed to make it past twenty five

The jokes on you, we’re still alive.”

And good for him. This is a good record - funny, if a little too reliant on sampled and sped up vocals. But if you want to hear an entertaining rap record, this is not a bad place to start.
---------------- Now playing: Kanye West - We Don't Care via FoxyTunes

May:

By now I was at an all-time low. I put the new records away, and took out Wilco’s depressing, insular “Yankee Hotel Foxtrot”. ---------------- Now playing: Wilco - Radio Cure via FoxyTunes When I got it the previous year, I listened and shrugged. Now it was all I could deal with, except at night when I’d put on Aphex Twin’s “Select Ambient Works, Vol. II”, which is about as low impact and alienated as you can get.

Father’s Day:

The Shins’ “Chutes Too Narrow” coincided with me getting over myself, and my job. Things were looking up, and James Mercer helped by writing at least two songs that are amongst the best of the decade. The rest of the record is energetic and tuneful and as tight as a drum.
---------------- Now playing: The Shins - Mine's Not a High Horse via FoxyTunes

After my daily replays of Aphex Twin, I wanted to revisit an old joy - Eno’s “Another Green World”, now on CD, would save me the trouble of getting my lazy ass off the couch to flip it over. Considered one of the first “ambient” records, it marks a halfway point between pretty but empty Pure Moods/Enya/New Age and austere to the point of comatose Aphex Twin. One of my all timers. I was feeling better now.
---------------- Now playing: Brian Eno - Everything Merges With the Night via FoxyTunes

Herbie Hancock’s “Maiden Voyage” is a perfectly pleasant, if not very challenging, jazz record. No complaint here – it’s good for company – but it’s not going to make you a fanatic.

Summer:

We used the excuse of my sons growing interest in the Beatles to pick up “For Sale”, “Magical Mystery Tour” and “Abbey Road” on CD.

“Magical Mystery Tour” is a so so Beatles record. In other word, it’s not amongst their very best, but is still better than 98% of what’s out there. Okay, so “Blue Jay Way” and “Flying” aren’t great, but just about everything else on it is.

“For Sale” is the British equivalent to “Beatles VI” or “’65” or something. It represents the beginning of middle period Beatles, with acoustic guitars, downbeat themes and a touch of country. Okay, “Mr. Moonlight” kinda sucks, but in that good, Beatles kind of way. And then there’s “I’m a Loser”, “No Reply”, “Baby’s In Black”, “I’ll Follow the Sun”, “I Don’t Want to Spoil the Party”, “Eight Day’s a Week”, “What You’re Doing”. Need I say more?

“Abbey Road” (link) Side Two as greatest album side of all time? Discuss! I’m distrustful of nostalgia, but it’s hard to listen to side two without feeling lucky to be alive. This summer, we enjoyed it all over again.

Fall:

The Musical Heritage Society struck again with A Night at the Opera. Not a Marx Brothers soundtrack, but rather overtures from famous operas, done on acoustic guitars. No singing, thank god. Good for early mornings.

And what’s a music collection without a record by Igor Stravinsky? How could I turn down the two CD “The Essential…”? Damn you, MHS! This is a great example something that was once not considered music at all, but that is now thought of as quite tame.

Overcoming my reluctance to buy records I’ve already heard big chunks of, I finally broke down at the bargain bin, and got The Grateful Dead’s “Workingman’s Dead”. When your musical tastes go through a change, it’s tempting to be dismissive of your earlier enthusiasms. But if anything, I’m even more impressed with this record now. I’d call this the seminal Americana album if I wasn’t so averse to using those two already overused terms, in the same sentence no less. Even the overplayed “Casey Jones” sounds just good closing it. Robert Hunter deserves a medal for these lyrics. My only gripe is that the generous bonus tracks are kind of shaky. Hey, those harmonies are tough.
---------------- Now playing: Grateful Dead - Black Peter via FoxyTunes

Mule Variations is my first Tom Waits record. What do you get by the man who’s done everything? If you’re lucky, a record that balances his weirdness and his songwriting. But really, what do I know? They may all be like this. The sound on this record is crystal clear, so there are no excuses for the cacophony. No apologies, either. More music to get rid of company with. Seriously, it’s quite good. “Come on Up to the House” is the great one here.
---------------- Now playing: Tom Waits - Come on Up to the House via FoxyTunes

For the longest time, I hated Bjork’s “Post”, but now I think she’s been a victim of low volume, which happens to the music I play at home from time to time. I finally played this electronica extravaganza in my car, and began to notice the overall sound, which makes the band sound like an artillery division advancing on you. Which helps a lot when she starts to woop and holler in that Bjork way of hers. The bass could knock you over, by the way.
---------------- Now playing: Björk - Isobel via FoxyTunes

Buddy Guy is cited by just about every good white guitar player, so who am I to say no? And from the Musical Heritage Society no less! This one’s “The Very Best of Buddy Guy”. The guitar playing is so raw that you can feel his fingers on the strings. He sings good too.
---------------- Now playing: Buddy Guy - Man of Many Words via FoxyTunes

The Essential Bessie Smith - I suppose when you’ve heard one of these double entendres you’ve heard them all – sugar in my bowl, trombone cholly, do your duty - but why do I keep going back? Because Ms. Smith just won’t be denied.
---------------- Now playing: Bessie Smith - Aggravatin' Papa via FoxyTunes

Thanksgiving:

The Shins made such an impression over the summer that I jumped at “Oh, Inverted World”, their first record. It’s not as impressive as “Chutes”, but that’s partly because it’s a bit slower and fuzzier. Once you give it a chance, though, the pretty tunes really catch up to you.
---------------- Now playing: The Shins - New Slang via FoxyTunes

The Streets

Time for another dip into what is arguably not hip hop. Like I'd know one way or the other. I find this Brit very funny and quite tuneful.
---------------- Now playing: The Streets - Dry Your Eyes via FoxyTunes

Husker Du

Minneapolis trio strikes again. During the 80s these guys cranked out more tunes than just about anyone else around. I was disappointed by 1986’s “Candy Apply Grey”, and find “New Day Rising” much better, if not perfect. Not mellow. I don’t know what’s more powerful, Bob Mould’s yowl or his gargantuan guitar.
---------------- Now playing: Hüsker Dü - Powerline via FoxyTunes

Christmas:

Hank Williams Gold:

Like Neil Young and John Prine after him, Hank’s songs are simple, but you can’t get enough of them. One would think that two CDs is a lot to take in at one time, but in fact it goes by quite easily.
---------------- Now playing: Hank Williams - Cool Water via FoxyTunes

Great:

The Beatles simply don’t count.

The Shins - Chutes Too Narrow

Arcade Fire - Funeral

Good:

The Streets - A Grand Don't Come for Free

Tom Waits - Mule Variations

Was the music really any better than any other year? No, but I was feeling better, so it just seems that way. So, there’s a happy ending.

For now.

Getting Lyrical

Unlike poetry, great song lyrics don't necessarily impress on paper. As a matter of fact, the more "poetic" (poetical?) they sound when read, the less chance that I'll like them when they're sung. My favorites just look like matter of fact statements:

I made a lot of mistakes

Sufjan Stevens, from "Chicago"

I loved you, well… nevermind

Alex Chilton, from "September Gurls"

It ain't dark yet, but it's getting there.

Bob Dylan, from "Ain't Dark Yet"

Just single lines, really, whose original context gives them their power. And, by themselves, not very poetic. So let me play fair and try more than one line at a time. This is the first verse of "The Whistling Song" by the Meat Puppets (from "Meat Puppets II"):

It's the shadow in the dark,

The silhouette in the park,

It's the broken, faded bird

You've learned to call your heart.

Is that better? I don't know. They're just words. You might have to hear them sung by Chris Kirkwood to feel the pain and desperation. But because I heard the song before I heard the words, I'll never be able to just read them without hearing the music, too.

This is from the Shin's "Young Pilgrim" (from "Chutes Too Narrow").

Well I learned fast how to keep my head up

'Cause I know there is this side of me

That wants to grab the yoke from the pilot

And fly the whole mess into the sea.

James Mercer's delivery is almost matter of fact. (I'm big on this under-singing thing. When a song is good enough, it doesn't need the hard sell.) He's working with a pretty striking melody, so he just lets the rhythm of the words carry him along. And it's brilliant - so much so that the post 9/11 plane hijacking metaphor is forgivable.

Now, as much as I like the words above, I have no reason to think that you do. I've heard the songs and you may not have. So I suspect the words by themselves are not enough. (In case you don't agree, just listen to William Shatner's version of "Mr. Tambourine Man" and other such celebrity atrocities.) Ideally, the music and words share a symbiotic relationship. You'd think it would be easy to spot when this isn't the case. But when I try to think of songs with great lyrics and lousy melodies (or vice versa) I can't. They're out there but they probably don't register in the first place, and we as listeners don't care to know why. Let someone who's paid to do it explain it all to us.

I am open to the possibility that when the words are striking enough, they provide the real music instead of the actual melody. These may just be poems disguised as songs, though. And if the song is good enough, I'm not sure that it's critical that we understand the words anyway.

As a matter of fact, I'd like to propose a moratorium on "getting" lyrics. I'm not talking about the songs whose words you hear the wrong way ("Excuse me while I kiss this guy", the entire early R.E.M. catalogue, etc.). If it's good rock n roll, you probably can't make out some lyrics anyway. I'm talking about the words you can hear. Anyone care to explain "any jobber got the sack, Monday morning, turn it back" to me? I'm still trying to figure out what the hell Billie Joe threw off the Tallahachie Bridge. (Where the hell is Tallahachie, anyway? Anywhere near Tallahassee?) And "lineman for the county"? Who's that? A football player? A truck driver? A phone operator? And she's singing over the wire? Jesus. Beautiful song, though.

So, if we can agree that it's okay to totally misunderstand the lyrics, I will promise to actually read the lyrics when they're provided, as long as my glasses are handy - CD jewel cases having somehow justified the printing of lyrics in a 3 point font. This should improve the odds, but not guarantee that I'll get the words right. And so what if I don't understand the words I'm saying? It'll be like when I speak.

And I further promise to only sing them while alone in the car. That way, if I miss some notes, no one will notice. But that's a whole other posting...

The Geezer's Guide to Buying CDs

I'm probably unlike you in that I buy a lot of CDs that I’ve not heard before. I don't mean that I haven't heard the whole thing. I mean that I haven't heard it at all. Sometimes I have no clue, other than what I’ve gathered from a review, what I’m about to hear. This is occasionally dismaying when the music actually starts. But just as often it’s thrilling. I’ve already written about the problem with buying CDs that you’ve already heard. I figure my batting average is at least as good as yours.

As far as actually tracking down stuff, I recommend checking your usual haunts once or twice. But if you can’t find it, consider joining a music club (I’m in BMG, and they aren’t bad at all). This will put a greater selection at your finger tips. If you still can’t find it, just order the damned thing from Amazon or J&R and be done with it. Your time is too valuable. You’re not a teenager who can haunt record stores for days at a time. 

Vinyl albums were risky to buy used, because they could be full of scratches, but were arguably (the arguer being the guy who sold it to you) playable. CDs either work or don’t work. If you can find them used, buy them. I’ve gotten some great albums this way (Randy Newman’s “Faust”, Old 97s “Fight Songs”, Elliot Smith’s “XO”). I've saved some money, too, but it does takes a lot of time to go through the bins and, well, it’s kind of pathetic. So if you must do it, be discreet. If necessary, wear a disguise.

Now, all of the above is geared towards tracking something down that you’ve already decided you want. The other way of shopping is to browse. You can spend a lot of time doing this, too, but it's usually more fun. It depends what you find. I'll admit that it takes a keen eye to discern between the pathetic bargain shelf mole and the perfectly respectable browser. (I think it’s all in the posture, myself. I do recommend dressing up like you’re on your lunch break from your important job. Everyone will see right through this, but they’ll appreciate the effort you’re making.)

Another thing I love to do is window shop. CDs are expensive so I try to keep my instinct to overbuy in check. But around my birthday I like to treat myself. (The spouse long ago learned that I’m impossible to buy a gift for, so my trip to the record store saves everybody lots of trouble, although I’m not above asking for a box set. By the way, don’t buy a box set from a record store! Look it up in your record club. Even with shipping, it’s GOT to be cheaper).

I browse the aisles, picking up whatever strikes my fancy. The reason I do this is because there’s no telling if I’ll find a lot of stuff or nothing, so I cast my net wide. That way I don’t end up with nothing to show for the time spent. There have been times when I had 30 or 35 CDs, and I'd only gotten up to the letter J. I’ve somehow convinced myself that there is dignity in this.

Now begins the paring process. I look at those 35 CDs and ask myself a series of questions.

1. Does it a nice cover? (What? It helped me pick up a very good Charles Mingus album. Besides, you want your friends to say, “Hey, what a nice cover!”)  
2. Is the title on the edge of the jewel box vertically centered? Again, you may not see the relevance here, but remember, this will take up precious space on your shelf. You’re probably going to end up with a neck cramp while reading the titles. It'll only be worse if the titles are unreadable. (On LPs, this area used to be called the “slug line”. I don’t know if they still call it this. This has kept me from buying many an album, which is a good thing. After all, there are children to be fed.) 
3. How many CDs do you already have by this artist? If you have a few, is this one going to be worthwhile? Maybe there’s another artist who you haven’t tried yet who deserves some of that attention. When in doubt, skip it. 
4. How about the price? They can vary wildly. The only problem with some of the cheaper ones is that they may be older albums that will soon be re-mastered, with bonus tracks added. Ah, but now they’re expensive again. Your call. 
5. How much music is on the CD? This can be tricky, as a little of a great thing is better than a lot of crap, but it’s something to consider. A CD can hold almost 80 minutes of music. Typical vinyl albums held less, and averaged about thirty-five minute per. The typical CD has at least 50 minutes of music on it. I hate buying CDs with only about thirty minutes on them. However if I followed this rule slavishly, I wouldn’t own the Shins “Chutes Too Narrow”, one of the best of the decade. 
6. Bear in mind that you should try to balance enjoyment with that horizon broadening that’s intended to ruin a good time. Another good balance is old music vs. current. How about intimidating vs. accessible? Melodic vs. rhythmic? 
7. What are the chances, based on what you know, that you’ll enjoy the CD? This step is optional. (Just kidding.)
   

By now you should be down to less than ten. Put those other CDs back where they belong! This is a pretty sad sight, but it’s the right thing to do. Now pare it down again. (You can leave these rejects lying around. Enough is enough. You’re not a saint. Besides, the security guard is getting suspicious.)

You should end up with about four CDs. You’ll never absorb more than that in the short term.

I predict that you’ll like one CD immediately, two others will be okay to good. You will hate one. Keep an eye on this one. It may be the one that broadens those horizons I’ve been warning you about. While the first three may be infatuations, it’s the one you hate that you’ll form a relationship with. And like some relationships, you might find yourself coming around to if you give it half a chance. But we’ll talk about at another time.

Now get home. Everyone is wondering where the hell you’ve been.

They Just Don't Make Good Music Anymore

What a crock.

If you're around my age, though, you might believe that it's true. So I'll be writing for you.

Lots of good music is being made all the time, but it’s not likely that you’ll find it on the radio anymore. Radio is too busy fulfilling a set of rigid expectations in order to hold an audience share than to challenge listeners with something even slightly different, and risk having them change the channel. They’re in a very competitive business and heads roll at the drop of a Nielsen point. Their motto is “What you don’t play can’t hurt you.”

The trouble with always fulfilling expectations is that over the long term, it leads to some very boring art. It’s the artist who’s supposed to be creative, not the audience. How can you continue to have good art or ever surprise an audience if it's that same audience that decides what is to be created?

This is not easy for my age group to swallow. We grew up in the sixties and the music then seemed to expand our horizons painlessly. Maybe we were just blank slates and it all hit us at the right time. In any case, it may have spoiled us. Not in the sense that we got used to great, and then we stopped getting it. But rather that great took on different forms and we stopped being able to keep up with it. We expected everything to just come to us. I don’t think we can do that anymore.

So you can't just have good music find you. You have to seek it out. Read reviews, find critics who you can compare your tastes to and use the web to track things down about the stuff that you like. Now, you may just be too busy to do this, so I guess this is where I come in.

And just who the hell am I, anyway? Good question. No one special, really. Just someone who loves music and has tried to keep keep things fresh by trying out new things. It's paid off in a big way, because I can honestly say that I still get the same intense pleasure from music that I did during the sixties, and don't think that music has gotten worse since then.

So I'll be writing about albums that have affected me in some way, usually good. Of course, I’m limited by the size of my record collection and my own very subjective taste. So think of these albums not only as “Jaybee’s favorite albums”, but also as points of departure. Not everyone is going to love every bit of Talking Heads' "More Songs About Buildings and Food" the way I do, but maybe it can be your doorway to punk/new wave/whatever like it was for me.

And, oh yeah. It works both ways. You have to open your goddamn ears, and maybe your mind, too. If your expectations are very rigid, no amount of research will help. You just won’t like what you hear, and reject it on first listen. Then you’ll find yourself with a very finite pool of artists to draw from. And when even you admit that their records are starting to suck, you’ll have nowhere to go. If however, you don’t let, say, James Mercer’s startling wail near the beginning of the Shins’ "Chutes Too Narrow" throw you, you’re in for a real treat.

Because the bottom line is to have fun. You know, find joy and stuff. And don’t you usually find it in the unexpected?

I want to make you love music again. I don't mean like music. I mean love music. Don’t tell me you like music. Everyone likes music. Who cares? I hate people who like music. They are responsible for the billions of CDs that sit unused on bookshelves, ruining the environment. They buy a CD and perhaps enjoy it, but are never obsessed with it.

Life's so much more fun when you occasionally obsess about something to the point of foolishness.

--------- Now playing: The Shins - Kissing the Lipless via FoxyTunes