Between Rock and an Unheard Place

First, An Explanation (What Else Is New?)

I've been struggling with/apologizing for listening to non-rock/pop records, perhaps to ward off any complaints that I'm a snob. Which is silly, because I am one. Not that I think I'm better than anyone. I just avoid some people/places/things because I think they're dumb, annoying, or worse, boring, just like, I assume some are avoiding me for the same reason. Respect!

What's even worse than Dumb/Annoying/Boring, though, is same-old-same-old.

Which is why I'm slow to get that second record by that band whose first record was great. 

A sub-explanation: By "second" I don't mean the band's second chronological album. This isn't about faltering creativity. It's about how much of any similar thing you need. 

I mean the second record I got by that band. 

On the one hand, if they gave me a unique/exciting experience the first time around, they are likely to do it again the second time. But on the other, it's got to be a departure of some kind, otherwise, it's just a rerun of the first experience. It's a lot to ask I know.

This hesitancy is a powerful force for pushing me to new (to me) bands, and on a larger scale, to new (to me) genres. Thus, my forays into Jazz, Classical, and especially, World music. 

Of course, it takes longer to understand/appreciate/really hear those records. Thus, when I grade them it is typically based more on their "potential for imparting future joy" than, say, that Phoebe Bridgers record which I loved almost immediately. 

So for instance the Rough Guide to the Music of the Sahara wasn't rocking my living room from beginning to end when I gave it an A-. Instead, it was providing me with a new experience that contained several outright great cuts which gave me the time to absorb the more, well, foreign-sounding ones. 

The optimal end result of this is that some of the foreignness disappears - meaning I grow enough for it to now be familiar for it to become part of my "acceptable music" landscape. That along with its intrinsic uniqueness ensures I'll be listening to it for years to come, both to get into it more, but also to just downright enjoy it.  

Somebody: So, Jaybee, why the long intro? Have you been drinking again? You know, the beneath the surface defensiveness (same ol' Jaybee). The need to EXPLAIN.

It's because I have to tell you about some more records and I don't want you to laugh at me. These are the two core-yet-competing impulses that define my every human interaction. It's the "Look At Me, I'm Smart/Don't Laugh at Me" syndrome.

Now it's possible I've just not given the less impressive records a chance to sink in. This is ironic, given that, if anything, the styles are more familiar to me than those of the non-rock genres.

Anyway, here are a few "second" records by rock bands that are good-not-great, followed by two records by not rock bands that are great, not good.

Spoon: Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga  (2007)

The first one was Kill the Moonlight - an excellent record.

This one's got the same rhythmic attack, the same sandy vocals. Maybe a little more guitar. But no brilliant songs like "Don't Let it Get You Down", or "Vittorio E." to put it over the top.

Good, not great, consistent, not brilliant.

B+

"You Got Yr. Cherry Bomb"

Big Thief: Two Hands (2019)

Too mellow (except for "No") and not weird enough.  Except "No".

B+

"Not"

Mountain Goats: The Sunset Tree (2006)

Again, very good, but not essential. Maybe it would be if I got it before Tallahassee. link

Not all that different from Tallahassee, which preceded it. That time, a toxic couple. This time an abusive father. 

Darnielle's voice is just at the edge of unique/annoying. But the tales are still very immediate and compelling - he's one of the best wordsmiths around. Troubled people doing bad things. Again.

On brand, but just not different enough.

B+

"Lion's Teeth"

Toots and the Maytals: Funky Kingston  (1973)

Pros: It includes "Pressure Drop", surely one of the all-time great cuts. 

Cons: It also includes "Country Roads". Yes, the John Denver song. Now I've got nothing against that alcoholic wife-beater, but it was jarring to hear it. Toots et al reggae-afy it and they make it sound easier than it probably was.

This is unpretentious yet smart party music, even if it's not always happy. Toots' vocals propel even the slower songs forward, and even "Louie Louie" sounds like an original.

If you've tried Burning Spear or Culture and found them too tuff, TATM are just what you need. 

A-

"Pressure Drop"

Englebert Humperdinck: Hansel and Gretel (1893) 

Okay, here me out. 

First, it's not that dolt Arnold George Dorsey  I'm not that crazy.

EH is a composer from the 19th Century, and this is his most well-known opera. And it's really great.

The last time I tried opera, it was because Costco was selling ten of them (well, the highlights) for $10. And it sits like a brick on my CD shelf talking up more room than anything else. Space becoming more of an issue, I look back on this decision not with regret but with something else that works out to me not being wrong.

But after seeing snippets of this on Classic Arts Showcase (channels 75 and 165 on my awful cable provider) and being utterly entranced, I jumped in. Hearing the whole thing – all two CDs of it - doesn’t have quite that impact, but it is definitely my go-to opera at this point. There's very little of the overly virtuosic singing that turns me right off. It's far more melodic and sweet.

A-

Last part of disc one.

"Sandman's Aria and Evening Prayer".  It takes a minute but then it's sublime.

So there you have it. With Germany and Jamaica beating out America, my music is beginning to resemble soccer. 

Here's hoping it gets back to being NASCAR.

My 2010

You know the expression “his eyes are bigger than his stomach”? It’s when you order too much food and can’t possibly finish it.


Well my ears are bigger than my… well, ears, I guess, because I tend to get more music than I can keep up with. So, right after a birthday or Christmas (where I’ve carefully instructed my wife and kids on what to get me) I get that bloated feeling, except that it’s around my head.

Every January, I make a half hearted, not-spoken-aloud resolution to cut down on the record buying. Maybe just get one CD a month, I suggest to myself. But then there’s that gift certificate burning a hole in my pocket, or that great offer from yourmusic.com (my current record club), or a great selection in the cut out bin of my favorite record store. And before you know it, I’m already up to ten and it’s only June.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.


Winter:

During the winter months, I try to pull my head out from up the ass of pop music, and explore my pile of “under-listened-to” - usually jazz or classical - records. This re-acquaints me with music I already have, and if this time around I connect with it, it’s almost like getting new music. It has the added advantage of keeping me from going out and getting more. And I was doing pretty well, holding out for a couple of months.

But then March came, and I was itching for something new. I couldn’t wait for the good weather to show up, so I ordered online:

As a lover of chiming electric guitars, I was disappointed to find what sparse use Spoon makes of them on "Kill the Moonlight" (2002). Their music is primarily rhythmic - driven almost as much by piano as by the drums. But it rocks like hell. And when the guitars do chime, they chime like hell. Recommended.

If you mix the Beach Boys with Yes (What?), and then have them move to Brooklyn, you get Animal Collective's "Merriweather Post Pavilion" (2009). There's a lot here, so much so that it's almost too much to absorb. The synthesizers swirl and the voices reach for the heavens (in a sort of down to earth way), so the first few listens are pretty overwhelming. It's short of a masterpiece, but not by much much. Quite ambitious, and fun, too. And it sounded great when the warm weather arrived.

You want pretty and bouncy? Try Phoenix's "Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix" (2009) and you’ve got it. There are some real nice moments here, but it's a little samey-samey, too, and so, slightly disappointing.


Spring:

So in May, I crawled out of my cave, and happened to visit the record store (like how I happened to breathe). This was shortly after Alex Chilton died, so I thought, what better way to pay tribute than to pick up "Soul Deep: The Best of the Box Tops"?  Okay, it was only $6.99 worth of tribute, but worth every penny. It’s the epitome of unpretentious blue-eyed soul, recorded while the rest of the world was going psychedelic. I’d love to know the story behind Alex’s leap from here to the Beatles styled pop of Big Star.

"Pilgrim's Progress" was one of those elusive songs I'd always loved but rarely heard on the radio. And since I don’t like buying a record for a single song, I waited and waited, until Procol Harum's "A Salty Dog" was finally re-mastered on CD. And I wasn't sorry. You probably know the title song, and the others range from good to great. This record gives classic rock a good name.

It's hard to turn down records that cost $4.99, especially when they're the old Grateful Dead albums I've always wanted. And "Anthem of the Sun" is the most meaningful one yet. What a revelation! I half expected a 60s relic that didn't stand the test of time, but boy was I wrong. The songwriting is already pretty good but it’s the ambition of it that’s even better. Powered by the best pharmaceuticals to be found in Haight Ashbury at the time, the boys play their hearts out, finding inspiration where others might just be self indulgent. Jerry Garcia wails away and the band doesn’t let the occasional mistake slow them down. The jam is so infectious that when my son heard it, he took out his guitar to play along.


Summer:

Have I mentioned that I love Father's Day? The wife and kids know the drill - I usually ask for CDs I'm reluctant to get on my own - and they always come through. And they have to let me listen to them all day, too, ‘cause it’s practically the law. By the end of the day, they're all exhausted. I'm fine, though, and that’s what counts, right?

The music’s not bad, either.

Like "The Rolling Stones - The Singles Collection". It's got all of the Stones singles - three CDs worth - from their rhythm and bluesy beginning through their poppy mid-sixties up until their hard rocking early seventies. I was always a bit hazy on the early Stones, and this set helped a lot. I'm a better person for it. Okay, that's not saying much…

Conor Oberst, working under the band name Bright Eyes, has been writing and recording since he was, what? Thirteen? He's put out dozens of records and I have been trying to figure out where to jump in. Well, I found it. "I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning" (2005) contains ten lovely heartfelt country tinged tunes that even Mrs. Jaybee can stand. (Well, not anymore. I played it practically every day for a month.) The mandolin on “We Are Nowhere” immediately makes this a morning record. Conor's a loquacious young man, but I find that the quantity of words doesn't hurt the quality. He hails from the midwest, but sings about recently moving to the big city. I like when he mentions my neighborhood.

I had occasion to spend time with some wonderful young people I hadn't seen in a while, whose love for early 1980s punk rock - made before they were born! - inspired me to seek out some music I missed when I first had the chance. Friend Sean, all of 22, told me how much he loved Black Flag's "Damaged", from 1981!. This was Henry Rollins' first band and if anything he's more intense here than he is now. I will be living with this music for a while before I fully absorb it. But I love some of the songs, and the sentiments, already - "Rise Above", "TV Party". It really brings back what it was like in the mid-eighties, not that I really want to remember. And their disdain for most of it matches mine.

Is Steve Reich's "Music for 18 Musicians" classical music? Is it popular music? Or is it just modern music? Who knows? This hour of rhythm with miniscule shifts of tone and tune still manages to hold my attention all the way through. It’s never quite mechanical, never quite muzaky. And, when you get down to it, not even very strange. Just quite lovely all the way through.

Summer ends more or less with my birthday ( didn’t you know?), and it’s kind of like Father’s Day all over again, except that I don’t have to share it with other fathers. This time I got “Robyn Hitchcock and the Egyptian’s Greatest Hits". Talk about your misnomers! But don’t let that discourage you. Allegedly a collection from Robyn’s middle – and not so great – period, it turns out to be tuneful and entertaining from beginning to end. The whole house really enjoyed this one. If it wasn’t a best-of, I’d call it my album of the year.

I took more of Friend Sean’s advice and dove into Minor Threat’s “Complete Discography”, which covers 1980-83. They are just as angry and but more idealistic than Black Flag. And as such, it will take this old man a little while longer to get to the bottom of it, if there is one. But I’m in awe of people who were looked on as thugs, merely because they had no use for the pop music or its outer trappings, of the time. (Those awful early eighties again!) God bless ‘em.

MIA spends most of her time lately pissing people off. She does occasionally make some music, and “Kala” is her second album. It’s kitchen sink hip hop/dance music and a bit too busy for me to take it at once. I’ll get it when it’s considered an oldie.

And even though I don’t love the Beastie Boys, it was time to check out “Paul’s Boutique” which is considered their masterpiece. It sounds pretty much like “Licensed to Ill” by these old ears. But I’ll give the Boys some time…


The Holidays:

Belle and Sebastian can be bad luck for me. I have memories of listening to and loving “If You’re Feeling Sinister” in the late nineties. The trouble was that I was feeling miserable at the time, and the mood got associated with the music. It doesn’t help that their music is as sad as it is beautiful. So a vague unease, as well as a fear of disappointment, kept me from getting anything else by them. I waited ten years before trying “Tigermilk”, which turned out to be wonderful. I was even in a good mood at the time.

So I thought it would be time to try their compilation of non-album singles and EPs – “PUSH BARman TO OPEN old wounds”. Knowing full well how such collections can be very hit or miss, I was struck by the overall quality throughout the double CD set. There are some songs that are clearly experiments/departures/private jokes, but I find most of this collection to be quite devastating. (Yes, I was feeling down again.) So devastating in fact that I am very hesitant to listen to it – it was the only music I listened to for about a month. Stuart Murdoch is a master of melody, and pretty handy with odd/disturbing lyrics. Twenty five songs in all, there are at least twelve that I can’t live without. Why aren’t these guys more famous? Not quite an album by strict definition, so another not quite album of the year.

And finally, Christmas brought me “Intermission”, which is a best-of collection of Grant McLennan’s and Robert Forster’s solo recordings while they weren’t busy being the Go Betweens. few years. Robert and Grant each get a CD here. Robert can be spare and a bit awkward, and Grant, a little too smooth. And on a Go Betweens album, Grant’s pretty tunes were always put right up against next Roberts more tactile and verbal songs. It was the combination that was so effective. So, at first I was unimpressed. But now after a few listens, I’m liking it quite a bit more.


The Year of the Non Album:

There are a couple of themes this year. Jaybee reaching too far, and having to wait until he understands MIA, Minor Threat, etc.

But more importantly, it’s the year of the Best Of.

Perhaps it was the act of an old man hedging his bets and no longer digging deep, but in 2010 I got a hell of a lot of collections, whether they were best-ofs or compilations. Actual Albums, which I’ll define as a release of all new material by a single artist, are many fewer and farther between this year. As such, when I try to figure out what my favorite albums of the year are, a lot get eliminated on this technicality.

If I simply ask myself which records were the best, I’d have to say Robyn Hitchcock and Belle and Sebastian, but is it fair to compare them to “Anthem of the Sun” which was not quite as good?

Oh, who gives a rat’s ass anyway? Robyn Hitchcock and Belle and Sebastian. Easily.


I’ve Got Your Deus Ex Machina Right Here:

So here’s the funny part. Everything mentioned above is a record bought by or for me. What I haven’t mentioned is that my son Michael has been directly responsible for what may be the three best CDs – proper albums all - of the year:

Both Vampire Weekend albums and Arcade Fire’s “The Suburbs”. All three of these records are as good as anything else I’ve mentioned. And two of them actually came out this year! So he’s keeping me current, too.

Hmmm. Maybe it’s time for me to retire.

Well, that should keep you in suspense while I decide whether to turn over the family business to Michael. How does “Jaybee and Son” sound?

Fire in the Garden

My son asked me early this year what band I would most want to see in concert.  I had a hard time thinking of anyone worth taking the trouble for.  Of course, “trouble” used to mean waiting hours on a line during work or school hours.  Now it means going on line and finding the exact seats you want, so there aren’t any excuses, except for the astronomical prices.  Green Day were relatively reasonable ($50 for good seats) compared to the outrageous (over a hundred) for the Black Eyed Peas. 

So what are my objections to concerts?

Well as a notorious cheapskate, I like to get my money’s worth.  I want a long show.  I described one of my first major disappointments (Eric Clapton) in a previous post.  Springsteen puts on a nice long show - you can practically take a lunch break during it.  And there are some where a nap is more appropriate.  By contrast, when I caught Elvis Costello in 1978 the big worry was that he was only playing for a little over an hour.  Well, those were the most furious 75 minutes I ever spent in a concert, and by the end I felt he gave us everything he had.

And the volume.  I’m all for loudness, but sometimes it’s not called for, and it can take a geezer like me a few seconds to even figure out what song I’m hearing.  The details - some of which I treasure - can get lost.  I guess I’m an album person.

And I can NEVER make out what anyone is saying.  When the singer has some clever patter between songs, and everyone laughs, I can usually be found asking my friends what was said.

But the real reason why I’m not willing to say that the show was great is because I’m a god damned perfectionist, pain in the ass, killjoy, buzzkill, Mother Superior, no fun at all, sit while everyone else stands and dances lameass.  While at a show, I’m constantly on guard for the thing that’s going to ruin everything for me.  I remember going to a Little Feat concert in 1978 and being so afraid of missing a SINGLE SECOND (I hadn’t seen them before), that I had gone to the bathroom three times before the show even started.

Then there’s the standing.  I used to not stand at shows, and learned how ridiculous that was.  I can recall shows where I’d rage against the people who sat in the front row, but still felt that they had to STAND UP.  What do you mean you can’t see?  You’ve got the best seats in the house!

And I’m always looking out for the basketball team/group of assholes that’s going to take its seats right in front of us just as the show is about to start. 

I won’t even tell you the evil thoughts that go through my head when people would scream or yell during the quiet songs.  Or when some jerk off yells for a song that you know they’re going to play.

Then I remembered the Arcade Fire.  Now that’s one band I’d love to see.  Word had it that when they  played it was with an abandon few other bands could match.  And sure enough, a few weeks later I found out that they would be playing locally.  And Spoon - Metacritic’s Artist of the Decade - would open for them!  Mrs. Jaybee and my son Michael were very happy to hear I got the tickets and I was pretty pleased with myself.

But then of course I begin to remember all of the things that make shows less than spectacular for me and my enthusiasm waned.  So much so, that before it actually begins I tell Mrs. Jaybee that this may turn out to be the “Inception” of concerts.

The show was opened by Owen Pallet, who used to work with the Arcade Fire.  He’s out on his own now, playing violin and using tape loops to “build” a performance right in front of you.  He would start by playing a motif on his violin that he would then sample (Geezer alert: sampling is the recording of a piece of music, legitimately or otherwise, for use in your own performance or recording).  He would play the “loop” (Young person alert: “loop” comes from tape loop, which was what you got when you recorded a sound or a piece of music and then spliced the tape in the form of a ring or “loop” so that when played, the sound would play over and over again.) repeatedly, and then play something else over it.  He would then sample that, and continue to add layer upon layer to it, sometimes with the violin and sometimes by singing.  There were some magical moments that only listening to a new artist can provide, then it wandered and sagged a bit in the middle, and then finally rallied at the end.  Overall, a very good performance by a new young artist.

Then came Spoon, whose 2002 album “Kill the Moonlight” is one of the best records I’ve gotten this year.  And even though they only played one song that I knew, they rocked really hard, and weren’t the least bit fazed by either the big venue or the headliners.  Britt Daniels appeared to be having the time of his life.  An excellent set.  So, what’s my next Spoon album going to be?...

Now it’s after ten, my wife and I are beat, so I tell her I’m afraid this is going to be the Inception of concerts, and on comes Arcade Fire.  Their first record was one of my favorites from last decade, their second, after an initial disappointment,  just kept growing on me.  They just came out with a there new record two days before the show, and we were still trying to absorb it.  (More on that record at another time). 

So, how were they, you ask?  Well, I sang at the top of my lungs through most of it, along with 15,000 other people.  That’s pretty rare given what a snob I am.  And some moments were, as my son put it, epic.  Like “Laika”, “Haiti”, “No Cars Go”, “Lies”, “Wake Up” and a new one “Sprawl II”.

But was it great?  I don’t know.  But I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a great show.  Okay, Springsteen in 1978 was great, and several others have come close.  But I think it’s an overused word and have resolved to only use it when I mean it.  So maybe the answer is no.

Why?  Maybe because some of the newer, mellower songs don’t quite fit into the typical ecstatic roar the Arcade Fire are known for.  What is a brave move for a third album isn’t necessarily a good idea when planning a show.  By contrast, “Laika” from the first album is kind of a crazy song, which was why it was so great in the show.  “Haiti” is a little more mellow, but they upped the ante for the show and Régine Chassagne really wailed on it.  

And even if the new songs turn out to be great, I need a little more time to take them in.  I can’t always appreciate them when they’re being played for the first time, especially at a show.  It’s a  mistake to release an album either shortly before or during a tour, but it’s one a lot of performers make.  Instead, they should put the album out, let it simmer in public for a while, and then tour.  But I really envy the people who are going to see them a few weeks from now. 

Maybe it was the distracting videos (which I guess is why they were there?).  Maybe they should have just trusted that their own frantic behavior during and between songs would be enough to keep us interested.

As to the show itself, I want to love every second of it, so every song that isn’t transcendent is a wasted opportunity.  For instance, why did they do “Crown of Love” - a perfectly good song, but a bit of a plodder - a strange choice for an otherwise ecstatic ritual?  Why not the faster/louder, “Anti Christ Television Blues”, or, if they felt they had to slow it down, what about or “Neighborhood #4 (7 Kettles)”?, or “Une Annee Sans Lumiere” with it’s fast windup?

But enough nitpicking.  There were more than enough wonderful moments at this show.  I think the real reason for my less than ecstatic reaction is that I’m fifty three years old, and that I came to the show after a long day at work, and that AF didn’t even come on until 10:15pm, which is when I am about to crash. 

What I’m saying is that I was TIRED, and the fact that I enjoyed it as much as I did is a real tribute to the band.

So I guess what I’m saying AF, is that it’s not you, it’s me.