Speaker(s) of the House: Some Things Reconsidered

Me Reluctantly Deciding It's Time for New Speakers

Salsa and Cheese:

A few years ago, we had some family over for a barbeque. (Yes, another post with a barbeque story.)

My niece (not the one with the fire extinguisher, her sister) and her boyfriend were tasked with bringing dips for the nacho chips. Tostitos Melted Cheese was a thing at the time, although I never had much use for it, seeing it as a heart attack in a jar. Nonetheless, the zeitgeist had spoken, and we expected salsa and melted cheese. And we got it, technically. 

Alas, instead of two separate jars, they made an executive decision to mix the two together into one big tub of gooey slime. Perhaps seeing the look of dismay on my face, they were quick to insist it was "so good" this way. I tasted it, for research purposes of course. The rest of the family voted with their tastebuds and it sat there more or less untouched. 

Which is good and just since the salsa diluted the thick gooey-ness of the cheese, and the cheese blunted the sharpness of the salsa. And it looked like, well, bloody vomit. Seeing the lack of enthusiasm, they rationalized that "it all goes to the same place anyway". I beg to differ. It's how it gets there that matters.

Bass and Treble:

During the early part of the Covid shutdown, looking for small joys as Armageddon approached, I decided we needed better speakers for the family computer. This realization was painful for me as I was always a punk-rock-lo-fi-anti-snob. ("Speakers shouldn't matter!") Yet even I was never quite satisfied with the ones that came with the computer, and I figured enough time had passed that new ones would have to be better.

Alas, my anti-snobbery came back to bite me in the ass as I didn't know good speakers from cans with strings attached. I ended up getting analog speakers again which, if anything, sounded even worse than the original ones. Shocking how you can't rely on Amazon user ratings.

It took some time for all this to sink in. Surely, I thought at first, the computer must be the problem. So I twiddled a few knobs hoping for salvation and then suffered in non-silence for a few more years. 

When we finally got a new computer last month, I held out for the possibility that those replacement speakers would magically sound better now. Alas, they sounded just as shitty as before, so I finally broke down and got new speakers. And wouldn't you know? Suddenly everything sounded great. 

The lesson, kiddies, is to keep that hi-fi equipment up to date! I recommend Quadrophonic speakers, which I avoided for the longest time because I thought they'd only play Quadrophenia. Not true. Other Who albums work, too.

That voice in my head said Uh Jaybee, how could you be sure it wasn't just a case of listening to better music? So I put on two albums I'd gotten a few months back that were not measuring up and used them to test the new speakers.

And Houston, we had separation! The salsa came out of the left speaker and the cheese came out of the right one. Just like God intended.

Two Things Reconsidered:

Elliott Smith: Figure 8 (2000)

Curmudgeon and ultimate casualty, Smith wasn't easy to like. and I didn't, at least not as much as I thought I should. 

My first record by him - and still my favorite - was XO. It featured Smith with a small band, which enabled him to balance out the quiet/confessional with Beatle-ish pop. And while a bit lightweight, it was also modest, tuneful, and sweet.

Then I got Either/Or which came out before XO, and was mostly Elliot solo and lo-fi. It was also not as tuneful and a bit nasty to boot. A big disappointment. I stopped there, at least for a while.

Then Jaybee Son Mike raved about this one, which came out after XO, so I thought I'd try it. 

Old speakers: It leans more heavily on Smith with a rock n' roll band. Although louder seemed a natural progression for Smith, more wasn't necessarily better. It rocked but all sounded the same. 

B+

New speakers: The band now had more definition. I could make out the individual instruments! And the lyrics, too, which were nasty as ever, but clever. Lucky for us, Smith puts a hummable melody on every song. 

A-

"Wouldn't Mama Be Proud"

Sufjan Stevens: Javelin (2023)

Old speakers: The latest Sufjan was somehow coming up short. It was as melodic as his other records, yet the impact was minimal. You don't usually have to wait a few listens for an SS album to sink in. The first listen does it. This time that didn't happen. Nor did subsequent listens.

It could be that - five albums in - I'm all Sufjaned out. (Point of diminishing returns, use of my dwindling time, and all that).

The musical arrangements moved away from the minimalism of Carrie and Lowell. I would have welcomed this except they sounded like bubble gum (not the musical genre, actual bubble gum shoved in the speakers). Not quite a turn-off. Just nothing very artful in it. "More" didn't sound like more. 

Here are the SS albums I've got already, in ascending order of "ornateness". I've included my overall rating, too. It's only about 25 percent of his total, and all pop, with none of his orchestral output. 

• Carrie and Lowell: Nearly sere folk with some minor flourishes. A- 
• Seven Swans: Serene acoustic religiosity A-
• Michigan: More orchestration, yet still modest, and miles from rock n roll. A
• Illinoise: Rivaling Michigan in its scope, with better production, more energy, and the occasional electric guitar. Some transcendence, A

As you can see, my admiration for SS only increases when he incorporates more musical elements into his records. Thus, Javelin should fit between the mournful Michigan and the joyful Illinoise. Still, I'm not moved.

B

New speakers: Now there was actual separation and clarity. The dynamics - previously absent - now were front and center. And sure enough, his melodies began to do what they've always done. I love some of it and greatly admire the rest. 

Plus, there's his great cover of Neil Young's "There's a World."  A relief, as his covers don't always hit the mark. In this case, though, I think he beats the original.

A-

"There's a World"

One More Thing, Reconsidered:

Given the huge difference the new speakers made for these two records, I had to wonder what other records I misjudged. There was one I specifically called out for a muddy sound, and gave it another shot, and it sounded ever so slightly better, and even there I might have been kidding myself. Alas, no great revelation to be had, except the one that says the Clash didn't need great sound, but Teenage Fanclub sure did. 

In other words, the speakers didn't matter. This time.

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

Looking for My Receipt:

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

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

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

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


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

Dear 2015, it’s not you, it’s me.

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

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

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

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

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


Lack of Resolution:

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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


Top Tens(e):

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

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

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

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

Anyway, here are my albums of my 2015:

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

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


Some Observations:

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

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

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

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


The Year of What?

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

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

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

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


The Year of the Tribute Band? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

We'll talk.

So Normal, It's Weird

The musical year hadn’t been going so well. Oh, I’d been getting plenty of good, weird music but not so much good fun music. Good music that is both weird and fun at the same time seemed out of the question.

But I wasn’t even shooting for that. After Carrie and Lowell (good but definitely not fun) and Shutter Island (pretty much anti-fun) I just wanted a to have a good time. And I started to get a bit desperate about it.

I’m not exactly sure what drove me to go back to a couple of weirdos who got together to make some definitely-not-weird pop music.

While I’ve loved the Velvet Underground for a long time, I only checked out John Cale solo set a couple of years ago and found him to be a very talented if not brilliant.

I’ve been a fan of Eno’s for quite a while, too, but doubted that I’d find a lot of differences among his many, many, (many) ambient albums. And while often brilliant, you won’t play him during a party.

But together, who knows what they’d come up with?



John Cale and Brian Eno: Wrong Away Up

No ambient here. And after producing a few U2 records, Eno probably decided it was time to try his hand at pop music again. Hey, he thought, if they can do it, why can’t I?

So the rock and roll band isn’t that much of a surprise, but the singing sure is. The best you could usually hope for from Eno was a soft murmur, and Cale - a loud scream. But right off the bat, Eno projects on “Lay My Love” and several others, too.

And while Cale does hide behind a couple of quiet tunes here, he more than makes up for it by belting out “Been There, Done That”.  And he’s clearly having a good time. As anyone would be after having worked on a project with Lou Reed, which he had done shortly before this.

Another surprise is how tuneful the songs are. You usually get a lot of atmosphere from Eno and psychosis from Cale, but here it’s all about hummable tunes.

And after a whole bunch of fast bouncy songs, they have the wisdom to end on a quiet note.

So I finally get my fun. But it took a bit of time to sink in because I found the utter normality of it all to be kind of, well, weird.

So I ended up stumbling upon my holy grail of music - weird and fun together!

A-

“Lay My Love”

Yo!

Mrs. Jaybee liked the Kings Theatre so much back in May at the Sufjan show that she took note of the fact that Yo La Tengo would be playing there in October, and got me tickets for Father’s Day.

Yo La Tengo comprises three rather unassuming people - husband and wife team Ira Kaplan (on guitar and vocals) and Georgia Hubley (drums and vocals) and friend James McNew (bass). I think they live in New Jersey and keep to themselves. Such modesty doesn’t typically bespeak great music, but YLT have been at this for quite a while now.

By the way, the band name comes from a Met outfielder yelling “I got it.” in Spanish. Works for me.

And although I’m a big fan of the two YLT records I already owned - I Can Hear The Heart Beating As One

- one of my very favorite records of the nineties - and Electro-Pura - a loud/quiet juggernaut that I would play more often except that I got it right before 9/11 and it still brings back memories - both records are now about twenty years old. I’m sure at the show they’d get around to playing slightly newer material, so I’d better get up to speed.

Having been around for nearly thirty years, they’ve amassed quite the discography so I wasn’t sure where to continue. I noted that it would be an acoustic show and thought that getting one of their quieter albums would be a good place to go.

And Nothing Turned Itself Inside Out (2000)

And quiet it is!  Quite a surprise after it’s predecessor, Heart from three years prior, which covered a wide spectrum of sounds from loud and fuzzy to samba to country to folk, with stops at electro-drone along the way,

It was relatively successful, for indie rock, anyway, so you’d think this time around they’d be poised for their next career step by polishing up their sound.

Instead, YLT doubles down on a rumbling, somewhat ominous, but definitely lower decibel sound, only ripping it up in the middle with “Cherry Chapstick”.  But in case you think they’re hedging their bets, they finish it all off with the 17 minute quietest-of-all “Hoboken at Night”, that says that they really mean it, man.

No one’s a great singer here, so the vocals tend to be low to the point of mumbling. You’d think this - combined with the overall approach they’re taking here - would wear thin after a while. And it does if you’re not willing to hang in there. But it makes perfect artistic, if not commercial, sense.

I’ll admit that my first listen left me underwhelmed. There didn’t seem to be any “there” there. (Oh wait, that’s Oakland.) One could reasonably conclude it’s a dud, throw it against the wall and move on with one’s life.

Especially in the middle of summer when the windows are open and the music is competing with the sounds of the city (which all too often resembles the sound of assholes).

But once the windows are shut and you get to really hear it, you find that there’s a real song behind each carefully crafted soundscape. Please excuse the critic-speak there. I just have to point out that they’re not coasting here. Each track is powered either by a great drum pattern, soulful harmony or subtle organ part.   

My favorite song is “Tears Are In Your Eyes” - a gentle but emotional lending hand held out to a depressed friend. And now that I can really hear it, I find that every song is at the very least worthwhile or way better.

Mostly the latter. And that commitment to tone seems less and less crazy and more and more brave.  

Lovely night music, and it would sound great out in the middle of nowhere

In fact, it’s a low-key, but definitely not mellow, tour-de-force.  Come on, this unassuming married couple and easy going bass player friend are saying. We dare you to listen.

A-

“Tears Are In Your Eyes”

Oh, but hold the phone! It turns out that YLT has a new record coming out!  I better not repeat the mistake I made at the Sufjan show.

I’ll have to check that record out, too!

Next: La!

Sitting, Thinking, Rocking, Rolling

In my endless quest to appear cool I have been doing my damnedest to stay current and Actually Buy An Album That Came Out This Year.

Son Michael helped out with Sufjan but it was time I did my part. So I grabbed this $5 download from that awful company that exploits its workers. (But I won’t anymore.) Thank God I got this before I found out.


Courtney Barnett: Sometimes I Just Sit and Think, and Sometimes I Just Sit

This young woman got me from the first song. The first second, really. Right out of the gate, she sings the tale of the young man who may or may not be depressed, but who gets help from that older lady you thought was just a nasty bitch.  Heartwarming, uplifting, and you can dance to it.

She’s not afraid to dump a lot of words on you, and you don’t mind it because they’re all so funny or perceptive or both.

With her small, but very committed combo, she varies the pace and tone, going fast then slow, loud then soft. And she plays a mean guitar! She can go soft and smooth, loud and crunchy, or slow and bluesy as the moment requires.

These changes of pace and tone are crucial in holding your interest from song to song. Oh yeah, the songs. They’re kind of good, too.

She can be mean, as in:
I think you’re a joke 
but I don’t think you’re very funny

She stretches out the last word to fu-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-ny. You gotta keep the beat, after all.

She can also be matter-of-factly self-revealing, like:
I used to hate myself
but now I think I’m all right

So she earns the benefit of the doubt that in the former couplet, the intended target deserves it, and in the latter, she means it as advice for us, too.

And by the time we get to the bouncy, funny, angry “Debbie Downer” I’m ready to jump up and down. And that’s quite the sight to see!

That sense of humor, that irresistible Australian drawl, those songwriting chops, that guitar, that band. They almost almost single-handedly rehabilitate the electric piano!

And all this rock and roll is more fun than sad, sad Sufjan. (Not better, mind you, but more fun.)

And even though she ends it with two slow ones, by then you need the rest.

She’s funny, smart, tuneful and a damn good guitar player, and her band follows her wherever she goes.

I don’t blame them a bit.

A

“Debbie Downer”

A Matter of Life and Death

Given my hard-to-stay-dead crisis of not being able to love any new music, it seemed to make the most sense to stick with happy/poppy/fun records to snap me out of it. What I needed was a good time! It sure didn’t make any sense to get a record about death.

Plus I already had a few records by this artist and felt I may have maxed out on him anyway.

But then, my son Michael - an adult now, who makes his own choices - comes to the rescue and gets this record anyway. And although I tend to stick to those records I myself buy, in this case I’m happy to make an exception.




Sufjan Stevens: Carrie & Lowell

Sufjan sometimes does long, sprawling albums, filled with orchestrations, like Michigan and Illinois (one of my faves from the last decade), and experiments in electronica like The Age of Adz. He even wrote a symphony about the BQE. link

But occasionally he’ll just write a bunch of tunes, perform them in a simple setting, and end up with a simple, straightforward album. Before, it was the religiously themed Seven Swans. And now, it’s Carrie & Lowell, about the death of his mother.

Now before you get all weepy about it, or worse, feel like you’re being forced into having to like something because of the subject matter, Sufjan points out how their relationship was complicated by her substance abuse and mental health issues, necessitating her leaving him when he was three, to be brought up by others.

So it’s hardly a miss you so much ma weep-fest, There’s an admission of the pain and regret left in the wake of such a relationship and the death that ends it, preventing it from ever being fully repaired.

But he doesn't try to just get by on the gravity of the theme, slipping in some sub-par songs because we feel sorry for him. He puts together eleven excellent to brilliant songs. There’s no skimping here at all.


The first song - “Death With Dignity” - actually starts with an uplifting melody and guitar figure, and ends with some subtle pedal steel guitar and almost Beach Boy-like harmonies. It's a microcosm of the rest of the album - a deft mixture of pain and joy.

Next comes “I Should Have Known Better”, and again, the music is sweet and muted, while the lyrics probe how to better handle such a complicated relationship, and ending hopefully by looking to the future, embodied by his niece.

“All of Me Wants All of You”, about a less than equal relationship, opens up a bit more musically, which is nice, since it staves off the claustrophobia one might feel after a couple of very low key numbers.

“Eugene” is a sweet, short folk song - just guitar and vocal like you’d expect from Cat Stevens. And since Sufjan is a religious fellow, here’s where I note the swimming instructor, pouring water on his head and mispronouncing his name, like a very public and very imperfect baptism.  It’s just one of the many religious and mythical references here that will take me years to figure out.

“Fourth of July” may be the quietest song on the record, but it’s also the most intense. The lyrics are a dialog between him and his mother both before and after her death. It’s a quiet masterpiece:
Did you get enough love, my little dove,
Why do you cry?
I’m sorry I left,
But it was for the best
My little Versailles.

It’s followed by the most beautiful song I’ve heard all year. The lyrics to “The Only Thing” are full of despair and thoughts of suicide, but the melody is so sweet that one is left feeling full of hope. The guitar interlude followed by the final verse may be the most sublime musical moment I’ve felt for years.

And after the poppy - relatively speaking - title cut, it gets quieter again,and stays that way until the end, which might be forbidding for any but the true believers. It’s all right, though, By now I am one.

I like how Sufjan, while keeping things sparse, doesn't get lazy with the instrumentation. He finds the exact string instrument that's right for the song. And I'd tell you what those instruments were if I could get the damned liner notes to open.

And he doesn't stint on the melody. Oh, he gets a bit prissy with his vocals occasionally, but only if the tune or the theme calls for it.

Those melodies are very straightforward, so it’s easy to get lulled into thinking you know what you're getting on first listen. But like John Prine and Neil Young before him, he’s written music that is so strong it stays with you long after you thought it would lose its power.

And it was this very mistake that led to my disappointment at his recent show. If I had just stayed with the album a little longer, the concert would have been brilliant.  I’ve had similar missed opportunities, like Elvis Costello in 1981, who, in the prior year, had put out three albums containing a total of 55(!) songs, all of which he seemed to play that night, and none of which I’d heard as yet, and REM in 1985, when in retrospect it would have been a good idea to have picked up their debut EP Chronic Town, which brought the show to a rousing finish.

By the time I saw Sufjan, I’d clearly underestimated his album. There was another level of enjoyment I hadn’t gotten to by then that I’d only reach over the next few weeks, when we played it over and over and over again.

I thought Aphex Twin would be the right way back into happy music, now I think Sufjan Stevens is. Of course, if I heard Carrie & Lowell in January, I may have never left the house again. But to paraphrase “Game of Thrones”, to get to happy, head to sad.

Yup, Carrie & Lowell is one of those "demanding" albums. No fun - the one thing I was looking for - at all. And yet, it's the best thing I've heard all year.

I guess Mick was right. If you try sometimes, you get what you need.

A

“The Only Thing”

Old Man Attends Concert, Nearly Has A Good Time

I could go on Facebook and say it was the greatest concert ever, but that wouldn't be true. I could have said we had a wonderful time, but I didn't.

It was just another concert, and it turned out the way concerts generally turn out for me. Okay, but frustrating as hell.

Why does this always happen? Well, it could be my impossibly high standards, but circumstances do enter into it.

We had tickets to Sufjan Stevens at the newly - and awesomely - refurbished Kings Theatre, and there was no reason to think we'd have anything but a wonderful time. Except all of my prior concert experiences.

Unlike my fellow near 58 year olds, I won't lie to you and tell you about all the concerts I've been to. When I was younger I DIDN'T go to a lot of concerts. I didn’t see Dylan, the Beatles, the Stones. So when I did get to go to a show, I’d invest so much emotional capital into it, it would be almost impossible for the show to satisfy me.

Other folks would come to have a good time, by dancing, standing and talking to friends. But I must have been starved for entertainment, because. I’d sit there leaning forward, never taking my eyes off the stage, making sure I was taking in every sliver of the experience.  And heaven help anyone who came between me and that experience.

I'd be there hoping for a PERFECT show, which would comprise the following:

1. Great seats.
2. Nobody's fat f*cking head in front of me.
3. A great song selection. A corollary to this is that there’s a good mix of old and new.  Too much old is playing it safe, too much new is not fair to the audience, and reeks of hawking new product, like a 1978 Dave Mason concert that my friends and I would later refer to as the “Here’s another one from the new record…” show. 
4. Faithful but enthusiastic renditions of the songs. Not robotic note for note replications of the record, but also not drastically different arrangements of them, a la Dylan.
5. If you’re a solo act, a good band
6. A good sound system.
7. No assholes. which means nobody talking throughout the show, and nobody screaming out during quiet songs.
8. A three hour show.  Okay, this isn’t as important as it used to be. I’d have to hit the bathroom during such a marathon.  And I saw a pretty short Elvis Costello show in 1979 that was nonetheless one of the more intense concerts I’ve ever seen, and so I didn’t leave feeling gypped, like that other EC, whose 1974 show was the epitome of the bad concert. I’d waited months for that show (and years for him to come out of hiding) and it sucked, striking out on virtually all of the above criteria.

As you can see, I tend to place a lot of expectation on an event involving a multitude of factors and thousands of people out of my control. And I usually was disappointed.

Would Sufjan do any better, I wondered? It’s funny how things change, though. I’d set my expectations so low I’d almost forgotten we’d even gotten the tickets.

When we entered the theater, we couldn’t believe our eyes. It had been closed for a long time, but had just been refurbished, and was absolutely beautiful.

And the opening act - Moses Sumney - started at eight sharp! - was really very good. A perfect start.

So Sufjan comes on and starts off great, playing songs from his new record. And playing them. And playing them. About seven in a row, actually.

Now, given my inability to appreciate music the first time I hear it, I try to prepare for a show by listening to the new album a few times ahead of time. Arcade Fire didn’t give us much of a chance releasing The Suburbs the day before we saw them in 2010. Sufjan had a little more consideration. But I still felt rushed, and only got a few grudging listens in.

A good, but solemn, record. And while you can definitely put it on when you're in that mood, you may not want to remain in that mood for the length of an entire concert, which should be a little more, uh, fun. And given how I’d been feeling in general, more solemnity was the last thing I needed.

He did play some other songs, but they seemed few and far between. And it took him almost half the show before he even talked to the audience.  So it was a little too much like going to mass.

But how did we do overall?

1. Seats? Row S. Excellent. A-
2. Fat F*cking Heads?  Not bad - I had a great view but there was the young lady who insisted on resting her head on her girlfriend’s shoulder, blocking my wife's view. But then she'd lift it again. And then put it down again. I was outraged by proxy, but Mrs. Jaybee said she didn’t mind. B+
3. Song Selection? As I said, too many new ones. B
4. Faithful but enthusiastic....?  A
5. The Band? Excellent! Stripped down, and mixed gender, too! A
6. Sound System? Usually excellent, but sometimes the guitar was too loud and Sufjan also tried - in the wrong way - to expand the tone of the material. B+
7. Assholes? Surprisingly, sensitive Sufjan draws assholes just like any other artist. Despite threats to the contrary, talking during the show was pretty minimal, but there were the douche bags who screamed out during the quiet parts of songs. What are these people thinking? That they're adding to the experience?  And a new phenomenon. People showing up late for the show! Like an hour late. Really? Is this just one stop in your wonderful evening? Who are these people who buy tickets to shows and come in when it’s more than half over?  That’s like buying a pizza and throwing away four slices on the way home. B
8. A three hour show. Not even close, but I don’t care anymore. A-  

Overall, the show gets a strong B+, with the song selection being the biggest problem. Which is a damned shame since I’d find out later how great, and how durable, these new songs were.

But it's like deciding when to eat dinner. At my age, I spend a lot of time not being hungry, only to immediately follow that with that nice hungry feeling, but only for about five minutes. It’s immediately superseded by nausea, thus making the timing of a meal challenging, to say the least.

And with new songs, if you overplay them you get sick of them songs before the show. You need to play them just enough to want to look forward to hearing them again. And then stop until the show.

So I went into the show  thinking I’d gotten to the essence of these songs - thinking I was ready to really enjoy them. But I was wrong. It was too soon. I’d only skimmed the surface. But I’ll talk about that at another time.

So it wasn’t a great show, but I’d only blame Sufjan for the abrupt end to “Chicago”, which should have gone out on a fading choir of angelic voices. See?

We’ll go back to the Kings Theater in October to catch Yo La Tengo and I’ll report back on my narrow comfort zone and the potential attendant assholes. Let’s see if I, or they, learn anything.

Planning Your Own Funeral Soundtrack

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.

Moving on.

My 2011: The First Annual Jaybee-bies Awards

Well, the notoriously late Voice's 2011 Pazz and Jop Poll Results have finally come out, which means it's time for me to finish up my 2011 year in music. 

And I'm well on my way, having already gotten four albums this year.  Sooooo….

Welcome to the First Annual Jaybee-bies (Okay, that name needs work The Geezies? ) Awards.

Where I summarize, yet again, what I - as opposed to the rest of the world - listened to in 2011.  Welcome to my world.

Overall, this wasn't a year of obsession, but rather one of riches, balance and satisfaction.  There were no albums whose songs haunted me throughout the days and weeks, but rather album after album of very high quality and varied music.  Being unofficially bipolar, it's probably better for me that way.

Anyway, let the awards begin!

Self Restraint Award:

I usually give this award to myself if I can keep my music purchases to less than 20 a year.  (It's origins lie in a similar award from my teen years, if I could keep something else to less than 20 times a month. I never won.) But that takes more……..FOCUS……than I can possibly muster, and I ended up with 25. 

I blame Amazon.com with their monthly 100 mp3 albums for $5 (and this January there are 1,000!) and Other Music, whose used bin exerts a gravitational pull on me.  Maybe I should to move to another state. Anyway, the winner this year is Not Me.  Too bad the old award isn't still around though…

MP3 Firsts Award:

This marks the first year I've gotten an mp3 instead of a CD. Actually four.  Now I know what those young folks - forty year olds, I mean - are talking about!  I obviously can't win this again, so I'll probably shoot for more MP3s than CDs this year.

Anyway, I'd like amazon.com…   

But now, awards for actual musicians:

Best Album of the Year:

1. W H O K I L L by tUnE-yArDs - This record is unique in that it's the only one I got all year that came out in 2011. (Nutboy's got some things to say about this, but later for that.) I may not have logged as many listens for this as I did for, say Grandaddy or Nick Drake, I'm still playing it eight months later, so  I know it's got legs.  A perfect balance of accessibility and experimentation, tunes and weirdness.  Even the lyrics are good.  Here's "My Country".

It's sheer coincidence that my pick should coincide with Pazz and Jop.  My picks are usually more lame.

2. The Sophtware Slump by Grandaddy - Sadness and tunes.  An unbeatable combination for someone like me. Try Underneath the Weeping Willow.

3. Halcyon Digest by Deerhunter - Guitars, weirdness, etc.  A favorite for the whole family.  Desire Lines may be the song of the year.

Honorable Mentions:

Too many, really, hence those riches I was talking about.  Michigan, Seven Swans, The Boy With the Arab Strap, Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain, Modern Times, Bryter Layter,

Artist of the Year:

Sufjan Stevens, for deluging me with his back catalog - Michigan, Seven Swans, and Songs for Christmas.  He didn't put anything out this year, which is probably why he didn't attend the awards ceremony that took place in my basement last Tuesday. It's a shame he didn't pick up the statuette, which looks a lot like my son's soccer trophy from grammar school. 

Best Educational Experience:

This goes to the record that rewards my wandering ears with enough joy to encourage even more exploration.

And the winner is… Francophonic by Franco - This compilation has so much music, and even though I had something by him already, so little that I ever knew about.  The opening of an entire world (well, continent, anyway).

Special mention to all the others - Charles Mingus, Sunny Ada, Eric Dolphy and Terry Riley - who didn't make me sorry.

Resolutions:

I have to give myself a plan of action for the new year, which I may follow or ignore as the music dictates:

Try to win next year's Self Restraint award.

Get more MP3s, if for nothing else, just to save some space.

Buy more current year music, because I've got Nutboy breathing down my neck.

Closing Ceremonies:

Music did what I needed it to do for me.  Around this time a year ago, I was miserable.  Slowly but surely music - along with the other good things in life I'm learning to appreciate more - brought me out of it.

Which is why I listen.

Good night and have a musical year.

My 2011: Fall and the Holidays

For me, Thanksgiving is a critical time of the year formusic. I like to remember the holidays for a given year with a very specific musical background.  And when the music is just okay, so are the holidays.  Sorry family and friends, it just seems to be so.

Over the years, I've had some brilliant ones - 2007, for instance, with Neko Case's Fox Confessor Brings the Flood and the Go Betweens Oceans Apart- and some bad ones - well, let's not go there.  So I try to learn from a bad year and play it safe.  And with a couple of gift cards left I decided to cast a wide net when I put my order into barnesandnoble.com.

I knew that, at some point, I'd get that one Nick Drake album I'd missed, especially since he's such a sure bet. So I finally got Bryter Layter, his second record.  But I have to admit that, at first, I was not happy.  Nick's usually my morning depression go-to guy, but here he's a bit peppier than usual.  Too many horns, lush strings and back-up singers made it hard to warm up to, but that's all more than balanced out by what I go to Nick for: beautiful, sad and ultimately uplifting songs. And here Nick has some of his very best.  Otherwise, why would I play it almost every morning since I got it?  A-

The documentary “Who Is Harry Nilsson?”  rekindled my interest in him, and I decided to go for  NilssonSchmillson, which is always showing up on All Time Best lists.  And as is the case when you actually buy such records, the first impression is less than ecstatic. This stems from already knowing chunk of the music already, sometime too well.  (Jesus, did I really need to hear "Without You" again, and in Spanish, too?)    But it’s also got several of my favorite Nilsson songs – "Gotta Get Up", "The Moonbeam Song" and "Jump into the Fire". The bonus disc has got several more tracks that are well worth it, except for the annoying commercials at the end.  (I’m seeing a lot more if this lately.  Why?)  B+, but I think it's going to go up.

Eric Dolphy lurks in the background of one of my favorite John Coltrane records, and I love his Berlin Concerts.   Out To Lunch is his last major record before his premature death in 1964, and it’s got all the Dolphy-isms I enjoy so much – mainly the solos that seem to jump out perpendicularly from the themes and melodies.  An ex-friend (God, they’re really adding up, aren't they?) knew him. “Eric was a such sweet guy”  I have no reason to doubt this, but then again, said ex friend still owes me money.  Probably owed Eric, too.  (Unsolicited advice – never room with a musician.)  Anyway, the record is really good, and I expect I’ll be hearing new things from it for a long, long time.  File Under Education

The leadoff and title track of Against Me!’s New Wave is one of the most bracing punk rock songs I’ve heard in years.  It’s a shame that the rest of the record just can’t quite keep up.   Nice and loud, earnest, political (I love how they make the lyric “write that song, in response to military aggression!” actually sound great)   I like these guys so much that I want to like the record more.  I’ll check back in a few months to say if I’ve fallen in love or not.  B+

But I couldn't wait for this order to arrive so I ended up back at Other music (where else?), where I find Grandaddy’s The Software Slump (used, of course) and, of all things, Christmas music!  

And by whom, you might ask?  F*cking Sufjan Stevens of course. (Three albums and a total of seven CDs, which must make him Artist of Jaybee’s Year, if such an award existed.)  

Sufjan was putting out Christmas EPs for his friends for five years in a row, and he finally put all of them together into one box - Songs for Christmas - where I could pick up a used copy.  And it turns out to dominate the holiday music this year.  Definitely one of the best holiday albums around. A-

Grandaddy makes a kind of space music, but the space in question is California.  Jason Lytle's vocals bear a slight resemblance to Flaming Lips front-man Wayne Coyne.  And even some interest in technology and robots.  Jason seems a little more pro-robot than Wayne, but maybe is even more sad. It's strange that Software would lead off  with an eight minute dirge.  But it works, and I find myself still listening to its deft balance of snap crackle and pop.  After several weeks, I'm still playing it. Another maybe album of the year?  A

Amazon keeps tempting me with their $5 mp3, and I succumbed again, first with Brad Paisley's American Saturday Night, which comprises part two of my investigation into whether modern country music does anything for me at all.   The trouble with music downloads is that you can forget that you have them.  Thus my play count so far is only 1.

And then with A Tribe Called Quest's Anthology. I snuck in a listen early Christmas morning.  For hip hop, this is surprisingly listenable and tuneful.  Again, only a single play.  I hate when that happens. 

Part of the reason for the low play count of those mp3s is that I got Grant McLennan's Horsebreaker Star for Christmas. Nutboy (link) was pushing this record hard.  I held off because of the different versions floating around.  Nutboy’s got the single CD domestic version, so naturally the old Jaybee one-upmanship comes out and I have to get the original two-CD 24 song import.  These last-CDs-of-the-year are really hard to judge.  Right now, it's sitting at a B+, but may move up.

All in all, an excellent season.

Next: 2011 in Sum