When we last left off, we were all having a good laugh at Jaybee’s expense, trying to eavesdrop on his visit to the “doctor” who we can’t quite hear, but we somehow know has an Austrian accent.
Doctor, I was only trying to give you some insight into my motivation for reading comic books. There were some traumas I experienced…
Some muffled words and laughter.
Well, I guess I do sound funny using those big words. Yes, I’ll leave them for adults like you and I’ll just keep to the comics. Thank you.
As I was saying, I was trying to explain why I still read comics. But it’s a little like explaining why I still can’t dance. What’s that? Yes, I’m sure there’s no connection.
Anyway, back when I was a kid in the sixties, aside from the vast netherworld of gory horror, Classics Illustrated and Archie, there stood the two comic titans, DC and Marvel. You were either into one or the other, not both. There were actual factions (along with the Yankee/Met and Keds/PF Flyer factions. The neighborhood was pretty united on Coke against Pepsi , though.)
My brother and I started out with DC. That’s where Superman was, so where else would we go? One of the great things about DC was that they didn’t go in for that “To be continued…” crap. You bought a comic and you got a story. It was rare indeed for Superman to not kick Lex Luthor’s ass within twenty pages. We thought Marvel was just a rip off, with their multi-part stories, which were clearly just a gimmick to get you to buy more comics. The kids who bought them were suckers. But for some reason, they made fun of us.
What’s that, doctor? You’re not surprised?
Anyway, this was during the Marvel “golden age”, with Fantastic Four, Thor and, of course, Spiderman. So how long could we resist? I think it was my brother who eventually broke down and got Spiderman #40. From that point on, we were completely hooked.
But now we would have to face the Continuity Issue. In the Marvel Universe (there were several, actually) it was impossible to know the whole story, unless you bought every single issue, starting with #1. It was where last month’s issue – the one I didn’t get, of course - is already being referred to as “legendary” this month. I’d be haunted by this, which was, of course, what Marvel was counting on. And I responded by loyally buying the next twenty issues of Fantastic Four, etc. I’d become one of the suckers, except without the making fun of other people part.
So the comics would pile up. My brother and I had a system, but it was somewhat ethereal to the uninitiated, with some comics laying on the back of the couch, others on the kitchen table, still others in the bathroom. Mom and dad would complain, not so much about the mess, but about how we were being distracted from our studies.
With a vague feeling of unease, my brother and I eventually threw all of the comics into a box, and kept them in our room. Again, not so much for the mess, but for protection. We must have thought that the box/room combination would act as a force field a la Sue Storm, protecting our precious collection from harm. But we were wrong. We didn’t realize that we were up against a greater foe than any we had ever encountered in the Marvel universe.
Mom. (Yeah, her again.)
Our super heroes could usually count on a speech ahead of time from the super villain which would give them a heads up that they were in danger. And mom would probably say that she had given us such a speech on several occasions, but we didn’t remember.
Anyway, one day, we came home from school and the comics were all gone. When we asked her where they were, she announced with relish that she had thrown the out (“Every single one!”). It would go down in family lore as the Great Purge.
So you see, doctor, the root of the problem, as I prefer to see it, is when my mom threw away the box. Although my brother and I felt we had it under control, mom and dad could see the steady progression from Superman to Spiderman, Daredevil, etc. Clearly, heroin was next. So she tossed them. I’d like to think that they are now worth the GDP of a small country. And I take pains to remind her of this whenever I can.
A muffled remark.
What do you mean, is that all? Of course not.
There was also that time during our trip to Ireland in 1971. My brother and I were rebuilding the collection, indeed peaking, at the time, and brought several of our favorites for the trip. Comics were in short supply in Ireland. So short, in fact, that while stopped at a light, the driver in the car behind us noticed all of ours stacked up blocking the rear window (it was the new system). The guy walked up to us and asked for some for his own kids. We were still in our pre-rebellious stage, and for some reason, gave them all to him! The best of the best. We’re still smarting over that one.
Then there was the extended family squabble regarding the comparative merits of Spiderman vs. Daredevil, who, according to my cousin, could leap “one eighth of a block!” Said cousin is now a major contributor to Wikipedia.
So that’s it, doctor – traumatic and unresolved issues from childhood. Yeah, that’s the ticket.
Doctor: That’s your trauma? From the way you express yourself, I was sure the trauma had been from a blunt instrument.
You’ve clearly not met my mother.
So I guess I’m cured, right?
Doctor’s Voice: Mr. Jaybee, one is never actually cured. One is merely in recovery. But go on. I’m anxious to hear about the blunt trauma.
What?
Doctor: Never mind. Go on.
To be continued…
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Monday, July 4, 2011
Comics Relief, Part One: A Case of ADD-DVD
Sorry to interrupt what is usually an unending flow of brilliant musical insight, but Jaybee’s feeling a bit under the weather lately. Today he’s at his “doctor’s” office.
So what’s in it for you, you ask? Well, perhaps we can pass the time by eavesdropping on him as he describes his symptoms, thus adding to what would merely be private humiliation.
So let’s put our ears up against the door and listen. It’s hard to make out the doctor, but Jaybee can be heard loud and clear from the couch – I mean, the examining table:
Well, doctor, it’s like this. I still read comics.
Yes, I’m 53 years. No, not dog years.
How do I explain?
Well, I thought it was all behind me - a faint childhood memory at best. But it all came back to haunt me…
No, you’re right. I lied. I did it all myself.
I wanted to do it, and I did it. And I (mostly) liked doing it. And I’d do it again, except not around other adults. Sounds a lot like mortal sin, but a closer analogy may be masturbation.
Let me explain:
When I’m not following my “new at any cost” aesthetic, I get nostalgic for things I experienced as a kid. Movies, TV Shows, and yes, comics. I also do this out of curiosity. I want to see if these things are really as great as they seemed at the time. So far, with one glaring exception, it’s not been working out. My experience renting DVDs of old favorite TV shows, like “The Man from UNCLE” and “Time Tunnel” has been pretty dismal. In each case I barely got through disc one. It seems that the memories are way better than the reality.
Another reason I do this is to fill in the gaps in the stories – the stuff I missed. Growing up in the sixties and seventies - before the internet, or even the VCR - the experience of pop culture could be very hit or miss. Be it a movie in a theater or a favorite show on TV, something was either available right now or it was gone, and you only had yourself – or siblings who wanted to watch something else - to blame for missing it. This made following anything with a degree of continuity very challenging. And continuity would be my Achilles Heel. At least it would be if I manage to read “The Odyssey” all the way through.
I had a habit of missing the beginnings and the endings of everything. I was kind of weak on the pivotal middle episodes, too. I caught all the other ones. But without fail, I’d either miss the legendary origin, the pivotal middle or the climactic ending. I never saw anything in its entirety.
I recall a third grade classmate swearing that I missed the greatest ever episode of “Lost in Space”. There he was, sitting three rows back, trying to act out the plot for me, in the middle of math class. And for years - decades, really - I’d imagine what that episode must have been like. Surely, it would have made more of a cultural impact on my life than anything up to that point. So even after the "Time Tunnel" and "UNCLE" debacles, when the “Lost In Space” DVDs became available, I rented them.
Deep down, I already knew that they were going to suck, but I’d finally get to see how they got lost in the first episode, my classmate’s legendary episode, and even how/if they ever got back to Earth, where I assumed they’d run into Charlton Heston having a relaxing day at the beach by the Statue of Liberty.
Alas, it didn’t suck exactly. Rather, it was totally unmagical in any way, shape or form. Just a typical TV show – so much so that now I hope they never get back.
Doctor’s Voice: But I thought your problem was confined to comic books. You’re clearly far more disturbed than you had let on!
To be continued...
So what’s in it for you, you ask? Well, perhaps we can pass the time by eavesdropping on him as he describes his symptoms, thus adding to what would merely be private humiliation.
So let’s put our ears up against the door and listen. It’s hard to make out the doctor, but Jaybee can be heard loud and clear from the couch – I mean, the examining table:
Well, doctor, it’s like this. I still read comics.
Yes, I’m 53 years. No, not dog years.
How do I explain?
Well, I thought it was all behind me - a faint childhood memory at best. But it all came back to haunt me…
No, you’re right. I lied. I did it all myself.
I wanted to do it, and I did it. And I (mostly) liked doing it. And I’d do it again, except not around other adults. Sounds a lot like mortal sin, but a closer analogy may be masturbation.
Let me explain:
When I’m not following my “new at any cost” aesthetic, I get nostalgic for things I experienced as a kid. Movies, TV Shows, and yes, comics. I also do this out of curiosity. I want to see if these things are really as great as they seemed at the time. So far, with one glaring exception, it’s not been working out. My experience renting DVDs of old favorite TV shows, like “The Man from UNCLE” and “Time Tunnel” has been pretty dismal. In each case I barely got through disc one. It seems that the memories are way better than the reality.
Another reason I do this is to fill in the gaps in the stories – the stuff I missed. Growing up in the sixties and seventies - before the internet, or even the VCR - the experience of pop culture could be very hit or miss. Be it a movie in a theater or a favorite show on TV, something was either available right now or it was gone, and you only had yourself – or siblings who wanted to watch something else - to blame for missing it. This made following anything with a degree of continuity very challenging. And continuity would be my Achilles Heel. At least it would be if I manage to read “The Odyssey” all the way through.
I had a habit of missing the beginnings and the endings of everything. I was kind of weak on the pivotal middle episodes, too. I caught all the other ones. But without fail, I’d either miss the legendary origin, the pivotal middle or the climactic ending. I never saw anything in its entirety.
I recall a third grade classmate swearing that I missed the greatest ever episode of “Lost in Space”. There he was, sitting three rows back, trying to act out the plot for me, in the middle of math class. And for years - decades, really - I’d imagine what that episode must have been like. Surely, it would have made more of a cultural impact on my life than anything up to that point. So even after the "Time Tunnel" and "UNCLE" debacles, when the “Lost In Space” DVDs became available, I rented them.
Deep down, I already knew that they were going to suck, but I’d finally get to see how they got lost in the first episode, my classmate’s legendary episode, and even how/if they ever got back to Earth, where I assumed they’d run into Charlton Heston having a relaxing day at the beach by the Statue of Liberty.
Alas, it didn’t suck exactly. Rather, it was totally unmagical in any way, shape or form. Just a typical TV show – so much so that now I hope they never get back.
Doctor’s Voice: But I thought your problem was confined to comic books. You’re clearly far more disturbed than you had let on!
To be continued...
Sunday, June 26, 2011
The Geezer’s Guide to Dan Brown
I don't know why, but I always seem to read Dan Brown in the large print editions. It just works out that way. And when you factor in all the funny looking pictures he gives you, it’s almost like reading a children's book. An unfair characterization, especially coming from me, since I never figure out the clues hidden in the symbols. (Figuring out how a marching band can morph from the “OHIO STATE” formation into “OH SHIT!” is more my speed.)
Take Angels and Demons
(please), which was as big as two bricks but not nearly as heavy. Even though I’m a notoriously slow reader (I barely get through a line before a new Burger King commercial catches my eye.) I read it in a weekend. Yet, I still feel somewhat shortchanged.
Still, one thing you have to give Dan Brown is that he’s fun. Good clean silly fun, disguised as serious fun. He even seems a little edgy when he goes up against Religions With No Sense of Humor that I’m a member of but that shall go unnamed (begins with a C).
And for me, possessor of at least a dozen pairs of cheap reading glasses (you can get good cheap ones at my old nemesis, Costco) the large type adds immensely to the fun. It’s not that the large type allows me to read without them. I’m a little too far gone for that. But when I put the glasses on and read the large type, it’s not just the fonts that appear huge. The silliness factor itself seems to multiply. The exclamation points become humungous. And, believe me, there are a lot of them.
Now before you go thinking I'm some kind of snob, let me explain that I'm an equal opportunity disdainer - I don't care if it's Shakespeare, if I hate it, I hate it. And if all I’m looking for is a good time, who am I to blame Dan when he provides it? Sometimes even unintentionally, like this line from The Lost Symbol:
"He stood beneath the frigid water for a full minute to close his pores and trap the heat and energy within his core."
Okay, I know the character's supposed to be a nut, and Dan's just writing it from his point of view, but, Jesus, where the hell is his core? He spends a lot of time walking around naked, so you have many opportunities to ponder the possibilities. By they way, do you have a core? Do I? If I do, please don't tell me.
But by all means read one of these books. If you have to, go for two. But for heaven’s sake, don’t read three. I did, and I really want that weekend back. But I kid. A&D wasn’t bad. It’s just when you read three or more Dan Brown’s you risk a case of terminal silliness. I’m not going anywhere near Deception Point.
My advice is to go with The DaVinci Code
for the cool concept and smooth execution. You can skip Angels and Demons, which is practically the same book, plot-wise. The Lost Symbol isn’t bad, and it’s got the wildest bad guy (who’s really no more over the top than Hannibal Lecter in Hannibal, core and all). Plus, the mixture of American and Masonic history is a blast. (I was feeling inferior to those smart-ass Europeans after reading DaVinci. Seems like our guys were just as crafty as those bastards. In your face, Rennaissance! USA! USA! USA!)
Sorry about that. The silliness is contagious…
Take Angels and Demons
(please), which was as big as two bricks but not nearly as heavy. Even though I’m a notoriously slow reader (I barely get through a line before a new Burger King commercial catches my eye.) I read it in a weekend. Yet, I still feel somewhat shortchanged.Still, one thing you have to give Dan Brown is that he’s fun. Good clean silly fun, disguised as serious fun. He even seems a little edgy when he goes up against Religions With No Sense of Humor that I’m a member of but that shall go unnamed (begins with a C).
And for me, possessor of at least a dozen pairs of cheap reading glasses (you can get good cheap ones at my old nemesis, Costco) the large type adds immensely to the fun. It’s not that the large type allows me to read without them. I’m a little too far gone for that. But when I put the glasses on and read the large type, it’s not just the fonts that appear huge. The silliness factor itself seems to multiply. The exclamation points become humungous. And, believe me, there are a lot of them.
Now before you go thinking I'm some kind of snob, let me explain that I'm an equal opportunity disdainer - I don't care if it's Shakespeare, if I hate it, I hate it. And if all I’m looking for is a good time, who am I to blame Dan when he provides it? Sometimes even unintentionally, like this line from The Lost Symbol:
"He stood beneath the frigid water for a full minute to close his pores and trap the heat and energy within his core."
Okay, I know the character's supposed to be a nut, and Dan's just writing it from his point of view, but, Jesus, where the hell is his core? He spends a lot of time walking around naked, so you have many opportunities to ponder the possibilities. By they way, do you have a core? Do I? If I do, please don't tell me.
But by all means read one of these books. If you have to, go for two. But for heaven’s sake, don’t read three. I did, and I really want that weekend back. But I kid. A&D wasn’t bad. It’s just when you read three or more Dan Brown’s you risk a case of terminal silliness. I’m not going anywhere near Deception Point.
My advice is to go with The DaVinci Code
for the cool concept and smooth execution. You can skip Angels and Demons, which is practically the same book, plot-wise. The Lost Symbol isn’t bad, and it’s got the wildest bad guy (who’s really no more over the top than Hannibal Lecter in Hannibal, core and all). Plus, the mixture of American and Masonic history is a blast. (I was feeling inferior to those smart-ass Europeans after reading DaVinci. Seems like our guys were just as crafty as those bastards. In your face, Rennaissance! USA! USA! USA!)Sorry about that. The silliness is contagious…
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Jaybee Has Risen from the Grave, or Nutboy Saves the Day
So there I was at my son’s Pre-Prom Parent’s We-Hope-They-Don’t-Have-Sex get together, when Nutboy snuck up on me. I had spotted him earlier, and was on my guard. But I let my guard down (i.e., stuffed my face) and before I knew it, there he was standing right next to me.
I had met Nutboy previously but didn’t realize it at the time, because he was disguised as his alter ego – Responsible Adult. But then I found out that he liked music that an actual Responsible Adult would never listen to, like Modest Mouse and My Morning Jacket.
But on this night he would reveal his true identity – Nutboy, middle aged music fanatic– in other words, a guy just like me, only better looking. Now I don’t want you thinking that this is just my fanciful way of describing myself. You know those movies where the narrator describes a character who turns out to be him? I must state clearly that this is not me. This is another human being, very similar to me. And that thought just brings chills.
So we begin chatting and it turns out he also likes bands like the Go Betweens and the Flaming Lips. He even likes obscure Bob Dylan songs (you know the ones that cause your spouse to roll their eyes?)!
Then we started going on about how very few of our friends share our enthusiasm. I said that someone really ought to try to bring these people up to speed. You know, do a blog or something. Then I remembered that I was already doing that, but I hadn’t been doing anything with it for a while… Why? It’s a long story, and really, who cares?
But essentially, Nutboy reminded me of why I began blogging (aside from the narcissism) in the first place. And in one of life’s great ironies, Nutboy OF COURSE finds the link to the blog in my email signature, and starts reading my blog without me even telling him about it. Him being the one person who is in the least need of it. So that shows me that maybe another reason to do it is to make people like me (and Nutboy) feel like they’re not….well, nuts.
We met again at the Post-Prom Oh-My-God-We-Think-They-Had-Sex Dinner, where I met his fiance, who had the same patient, enduring expression that I sometimes see on my wife’s face (usually when I talk about what Built to Spill CD I should get…) But that may have been my fault because I think I was asking Nutboy what Built to Spill CD I should get.
We found the women drinking at the bar several hours later. We hadn’t decided on the best BTS album yet, but they told me what I could do with it once I got it.
In any event, jaybee is back, or will be back, or will try to be back, or something very committed sounding like that. I have to be, what with Nutboy now breathing down my neck, and maybe thinking of starting his own blog.
So rest easy. I’m back. Or not - I don’t know.
See you soon.
Maybe.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Secret History: 1972
I’ve heard it said that the music you’re listening to when you’re fifteen is the music you’ll be listening to for life. I didn’t think this was true in my case, but then why do I have more records released in 1972 than in any other year?
We're truly in the album era now. While it's hard for everyone to agree on what the real masterpieces are, there are countless very worthwhile albums. And they're all over the place.
Brilliance:
Here are my picks for the masterpieces:
Paul Simon's first solo album is a great record. No, I mean it. It’s one of the greatest records of the seventies. It's not just one of those Grammy winning records that nobody really listens to. It’s warm and wise, like sitting by the fire in the middle of winter.
I know I just finished telling you about how great "Blue" was, but now I'm telling you that I like "For the Roses" even more. It was my first Joni Mitchell album, and it took a few listens to follow the melodies, what with Joni swooping up and down all the time. This is an ambitious, arty record, and I'm sure there are people out there who hate it. I think it's brilliant. Songwriting doesn't get any better than "Woman of Heart and Mind" and "Blonde in the Bleachers".
Do I really need to tell you about Steely Dan? God, I hope not, but let me at least steer you away from the later lounge jazz records, to their earlier jazzy-but-still-rock period. Their first few albums are so good that the very first one - "Can’t Buy a Thrill" - kind of gets lost in the shuffle. It's so good, in fact, that it's worth hearing "Do It Again" and "Reelin' in the Years" - two of the more overplayed songs ever - all over again
Brilliance Recalled:
Bob Dylan’s Greatest Hits, Volume Two is one of the greatest, well, greatest-hits records ever made. It's got the second wave of great Dylan songs along with a few unreleased songs. "Down in the Flood" is my favorite.
Another one of the greatest greatest-hits records is the "Kink Kronikles" (link) Like the Dylan record, this one scoops us some obscure album tracks along with the better known songs from that particular era.
The triple album “Will the Circle Be Unbroken” by the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band is not for the casual record buyer. It is perfect for someone determined to learn more about bluegrass and early country music. “Dark As a Dungeon” is my favorite, but maybe you prefer “Tennessee Stud”. Or the title song. The singing and playing are stellar.
Near Perfect:
Young Bonnie Raitt sings as well as Linda Rondstadt and plays a mean slide guitar. Her music is more bluesy, and her taste in covers is better, too. "Give it Up" is probably the best record from the early part of her career. At first, I didn’t love this record, thinking I’d be getting pretty, when what I got was tough bluesy and soulful. Good then, and even better today, it’s aged quite gracefully, thank you very much.
I guess Pete Townsend was getting bored being in one of the greatest rock and roll bands ever, so he put out a sort of solo record “Who Came First”, which picks up right where side one of “Who’s Next” leaves off. “There once was a note pure and easy…” He’s got several friends, like Ronnie Laine, helping out, including on vocals. This is one of the sweeter records to come out in the seventies.
Not to be outdone, John Prine goes in the opposite direction with his second album, “Diamonds in the Rough”. Previously he used a small country combo. Now it’s just him and a couple of guitars. It’s not exactly pretty, but I find it riveting. "The Great Compromise" is one of the best Vietnam songs ever, but for me “Rocky Mountain Time” is the highlight.
It took for the movie soundtrack of "Super Fly" for me to become aware of Curtis Mayfield. (I thought the Chambers Brothers wrote "People Get Ready".) The title tune has some of the most insightful and saddest lyrics I've ever heard. One of the best soundtracks ever.
David Bowie ch-ch-ch-changes so much that it’s easy to forget that one of his best albums was "The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars". “Five Years” still sounds great.
Nick Drake’s last record before his death – “Pink Moon” - may be quieter than his others, but it’s no less powerful. Short, lovely, and in retrospect, so very sad.
Well Worth It:
Do you remember the song that goes like this?:
It's sooooo Hard,
It's sooooo hard,
It's so hard,
Livin' without you
No? Well I guess that's what I'm here for. I finally found the song - written by Randy Newman, by the way - on "Manfred Mann’s Earth Band". You remember them, don't you? Let me help. In the sixties, they had the hit "Do Wa Diddy Diddy". In the later seventies, they went completely over the top with a cover of Springsteen's "Blinded by the Light". This is about half way in between, and seems to balance it all very nicely.
Stevie Wonder goes out on his own again with "Talking Book", and the results keep getting better. “I Believe When We Fall in Love” is my fave.
Eric Anderson was one of those poor folkies left in Dylan’s wake. He’d put out some good songs but never quite got any real notice, until “Blue River”. He achieves just the right balance of folk and rock. It’s got that old favorite “Is it Really Love at All?”.
I'm more a fan of the crazy/mystical Van Morrison more than the seemingly oxymoronic "soulful Irishman". "St Dominick’s Preview" kinda combines the two. And for that reason, it's a bit schizophrenic, what with a few pop/soul numbers surrounded by the long, strange "Listen to the Lion" and "Almost Independence Day". Guess which ones I like best? How about you?
After all these years, I didn’t think Bob Weir’s “Ace” would hold up. But Weir was savvy enough to open with something that’s got bass and drums going for it. The Dead couldn’t always be counted on for fast. He makes the most of his limited vocal range. “Playing in the Band” shows that they could still make compelling music in the studio, and “Cassidy” not so much a song as it is a miracle.
Side one of Jerry Garcia’s first solo album gets all the notice, but has anyone else noticed the absolutely transcendent “To Lay Me Down” tucked away amongst the weird stuff on side two? Not a perfect record, but a really good balance of good old songwriting and experimentalism.
Todd Rundgren’s “Something Anything” is one of the first one man does it all albums. Mostly, anyway, but it’s quite an achievement. A double album of pop songs and “fun in the studio”. It has a number of hits, like “Hello, It’s Me”, “I Saw the Light” and “Couldn’t I Just Tell You”. But it’s also got hidden gems like “The Night the Carousel Burned Down” and “The Viking”. My only Todd record, but I think I got the best one. Now if he only got it down to a single record, we’d have a certified classic.
If you didn’t know any better, you’d think the Steve Miller Band started out with “Fly Like an Eagle” or “The Joker”. In fact, he goes back as far as 1967 along with band mate Boz Scaggs. Steve could always be counted on to put at least one radio ready song on each of his albums. Luckily, he pulled a bunch of them together for “Anthology”, which covers 1968 to 1972. My only qualm about it is that it completely skips their first record. But I like it more than anything he made since.
Steve Goodman could always write tuneful and funny songs, but not always at the same time. I didn’t care for his first record, and his third record is good enough, but his second, “Somebody Elses Troubles” is just right. Clever funny tuneful emotional. And it’s got “The Dutchman”.
On “Manassas”, Stephen Stills redeems himself, albeit with lots of help from Chris Hillman and Al Perkins. They'd go on to totally tank with their second album, but here they put it all together.
Side One of Gordon Lightfoot’s “Don Quixote” is just great. Side two slides a bit, and it’s where you spot his big weakness. His music is just too nice. The anti-war “Patriot’s Dream” is a good example. Whereas Dylan’s “Masters of War” comes out and says he hopes they die, Gord goes into a long explanation as to why war sucks. But overall, very pretty, and side one’s got some real feeling to it.
Just Out of Reach:
Then there are those records that are lodged somewhere in memory but no longer within ear’s reach.
First, there’s Yes’s "Fragile", one of many casualties of the broken 8 track player syndrome. I recall this being pretty good, albeit in it’s shuffled, truncated 8 track kind of way. They would go completely over the top later that year with “Close to the Edge”, but because they could write tunes it’s a hard record to not like.
Unlike Emerson, Lake and Palmer’s “Pictures at an Exhibition”, which is EASY to hate, even though I like it. But man, they had no taste at all.
When I moved out of my parents house, I took a lot of records with me, some of which my brother could have argued belonged to him. (Perhaps because they, well, belonged to him.) One I couldn’t slip past him was the Flying Burrito Brothers “Last of the Red Hot Burritos”. I’m still trying to track down a reasonably priced copy of to see if it’s really as great as I remember. Al Perkins pedal steel replaces Sneaky Pete’s country licks with rock and roll. Different, maybe not better, but to my mind, just as good.
But this is all too long ago. Take out your copies and tell me what you think.
It Was a Very Good Year (Sort of):
I don’t see a lot of crowd pleasers here. That’s just because it’s the seventies, not the sixties, when such things happened to be brilliant, too.
It was more like the year when you began to play records in your room alone. And who could blame you? If you went outside, you were liable to notice that Nixon was getting re-elected. So these records provided me with some solace from that, not to mention the emotional turmoil that haunts a fifteen year old.
So tell me now, what got you through that year?
We're truly in the album era now. While it's hard for everyone to agree on what the real masterpieces are, there are countless very worthwhile albums. And they're all over the place.
Brilliance:
Here are my picks for the masterpieces:
Paul Simon's first solo album is a great record. No, I mean it. It’s one of the greatest records of the seventies. It's not just one of those Grammy winning records that nobody really listens to. It’s warm and wise, like sitting by the fire in the middle of winter.
I know I just finished telling you about how great "Blue" was, but now I'm telling you that I like "For the Roses" even more. It was my first Joni Mitchell album, and it took a few listens to follow the melodies, what with Joni swooping up and down all the time. This is an ambitious, arty record, and I'm sure there are people out there who hate it. I think it's brilliant. Songwriting doesn't get any better than "Woman of Heart and Mind" and "Blonde in the Bleachers".
Do I really need to tell you about Steely Dan? God, I hope not, but let me at least steer you away from the later lounge jazz records, to their earlier jazzy-but-still-rock period. Their first few albums are so good that the very first one - "Can’t Buy a Thrill" - kind of gets lost in the shuffle. It's so good, in fact, that it's worth hearing "Do It Again" and "Reelin' in the Years" - two of the more overplayed songs ever - all over again
Brilliance Recalled:
Bob Dylan’s Greatest Hits, Volume Two is one of the greatest, well, greatest-hits records ever made. It's got the second wave of great Dylan songs along with a few unreleased songs. "Down in the Flood" is my favorite.
Another one of the greatest greatest-hits records is the "Kink Kronikles" (link) Like the Dylan record, this one scoops us some obscure album tracks along with the better known songs from that particular era.
The triple album “Will the Circle Be Unbroken” by the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band is not for the casual record buyer. It is perfect for someone determined to learn more about bluegrass and early country music. “Dark As a Dungeon” is my favorite, but maybe you prefer “Tennessee Stud”. Or the title song. The singing and playing are stellar.
Near Perfect:
Young Bonnie Raitt sings as well as Linda Rondstadt and plays a mean slide guitar. Her music is more bluesy, and her taste in covers is better, too. "Give it Up" is probably the best record from the early part of her career. At first, I didn’t love this record, thinking I’d be getting pretty, when what I got was tough bluesy and soulful. Good then, and even better today, it’s aged quite gracefully, thank you very much.
I guess Pete Townsend was getting bored being in one of the greatest rock and roll bands ever, so he put out a sort of solo record “Who Came First”, which picks up right where side one of “Who’s Next” leaves off. “There once was a note pure and easy…” He’s got several friends, like Ronnie Laine, helping out, including on vocals. This is one of the sweeter records to come out in the seventies.
Not to be outdone, John Prine goes in the opposite direction with his second album, “Diamonds in the Rough”. Previously he used a small country combo. Now it’s just him and a couple of guitars. It’s not exactly pretty, but I find it riveting. "The Great Compromise" is one of the best Vietnam songs ever, but for me “Rocky Mountain Time” is the highlight.
It took for the movie soundtrack of "Super Fly" for me to become aware of Curtis Mayfield. (I thought the Chambers Brothers wrote "People Get Ready".) The title tune has some of the most insightful and saddest lyrics I've ever heard. One of the best soundtracks ever.
David Bowie ch-ch-ch-changes so much that it’s easy to forget that one of his best albums was "The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars". “Five Years” still sounds great.
Nick Drake’s last record before his death – “Pink Moon” - may be quieter than his others, but it’s no less powerful. Short, lovely, and in retrospect, so very sad.
Well Worth It:
Do you remember the song that goes like this?:
It's sooooo Hard,
It's sooooo hard,
It's so hard,
Livin' without you
No? Well I guess that's what I'm here for. I finally found the song - written by Randy Newman, by the way - on "Manfred Mann’s Earth Band". You remember them, don't you? Let me help. In the sixties, they had the hit "Do Wa Diddy Diddy". In the later seventies, they went completely over the top with a cover of Springsteen's "Blinded by the Light". This is about half way in between, and seems to balance it all very nicely.
Stevie Wonder goes out on his own again with "Talking Book", and the results keep getting better. “I Believe When We Fall in Love” is my fave.
Eric Anderson was one of those poor folkies left in Dylan’s wake. He’d put out some good songs but never quite got any real notice, until “Blue River”. He achieves just the right balance of folk and rock. It’s got that old favorite “Is it Really Love at All?”.
I'm more a fan of the crazy/mystical Van Morrison more than the seemingly oxymoronic "soulful Irishman". "St Dominick’s Preview" kinda combines the two. And for that reason, it's a bit schizophrenic, what with a few pop/soul numbers surrounded by the long, strange "Listen to the Lion" and "Almost Independence Day". Guess which ones I like best? How about you?
After all these years, I didn’t think Bob Weir’s “Ace” would hold up. But Weir was savvy enough to open with something that’s got bass and drums going for it. The Dead couldn’t always be counted on for fast. He makes the most of his limited vocal range. “Playing in the Band” shows that they could still make compelling music in the studio, and “Cassidy” not so much a song as it is a miracle.
Side one of Jerry Garcia’s first solo album gets all the notice, but has anyone else noticed the absolutely transcendent “To Lay Me Down” tucked away amongst the weird stuff on side two? Not a perfect record, but a really good balance of good old songwriting and experimentalism.
Todd Rundgren’s “Something Anything” is one of the first one man does it all albums. Mostly, anyway, but it’s quite an achievement. A double album of pop songs and “fun in the studio”. It has a number of hits, like “Hello, It’s Me”, “I Saw the Light” and “Couldn’t I Just Tell You”. But it’s also got hidden gems like “The Night the Carousel Burned Down” and “The Viking”. My only Todd record, but I think I got the best one. Now if he only got it down to a single record, we’d have a certified classic.
If you didn’t know any better, you’d think the Steve Miller Band started out with “Fly Like an Eagle” or “The Joker”. In fact, he goes back as far as 1967 along with band mate Boz Scaggs. Steve could always be counted on to put at least one radio ready song on each of his albums. Luckily, he pulled a bunch of them together for “Anthology”, which covers 1968 to 1972. My only qualm about it is that it completely skips their first record. But I like it more than anything he made since.
Steve Goodman could always write tuneful and funny songs, but not always at the same time. I didn’t care for his first record, and his third record is good enough, but his second, “Somebody Elses Troubles” is just right. Clever funny tuneful emotional. And it’s got “The Dutchman”.
On “Manassas”, Stephen Stills redeems himself, albeit with lots of help from Chris Hillman and Al Perkins. They'd go on to totally tank with their second album, but here they put it all together.
Side One of Gordon Lightfoot’s “Don Quixote” is just great. Side two slides a bit, and it’s where you spot his big weakness. His music is just too nice. The anti-war “Patriot’s Dream” is a good example. Whereas Dylan’s “Masters of War” comes out and says he hopes they die, Gord goes into a long explanation as to why war sucks. But overall, very pretty, and side one’s got some real feeling to it.
Just Out of Reach:
Then there are those records that are lodged somewhere in memory but no longer within ear’s reach.
First, there’s Yes’s "Fragile", one of many casualties of the broken 8 track player syndrome. I recall this being pretty good, albeit in it’s shuffled, truncated 8 track kind of way. They would go completely over the top later that year with “Close to the Edge”, but because they could write tunes it’s a hard record to not like.
Unlike Emerson, Lake and Palmer’s “Pictures at an Exhibition”, which is EASY to hate, even though I like it. But man, they had no taste at all.
When I moved out of my parents house, I took a lot of records with me, some of which my brother could have argued belonged to him. (Perhaps because they, well, belonged to him.) One I couldn’t slip past him was the Flying Burrito Brothers “Last of the Red Hot Burritos”. I’m still trying to track down a reasonably priced copy of to see if it’s really as great as I remember. Al Perkins pedal steel replaces Sneaky Pete’s country licks with rock and roll. Different, maybe not better, but to my mind, just as good.
But this is all too long ago. Take out your copies and tell me what you think.
It Was a Very Good Year (Sort of):
I don’t see a lot of crowd pleasers here. That’s just because it’s the seventies, not the sixties, when such things happened to be brilliant, too.
It was more like the year when you began to play records in your room alone. And who could blame you? If you went outside, you were liable to notice that Nixon was getting re-elected. So these records provided me with some solace from that, not to mention the emotional turmoil that haunts a fifteen year old.
So tell me now, what got you through that year?
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Yours, Mine and Everyone Else's 2010
What's that, Jaybee? Still with the 2010? That’s so…last year!
Well, I’m sorry, but that’s how long it takes to get a grip on a year of music, as cramped and limited a grip as it is.
And I’m still catching up on the various year end Best of 2010 Music Polls.
Yes. I admit it. I’m a list nerd. And since I love music, you can imagine how much I love Top Whatever Albums of Whenever lists.
As silly as they may seem, these polls have the advantage of giving you some perspective on a record after the initial enthusiasm (and hype) surrounding it dies down.
And it’s that time of year for everybody’s “Top Albums of 2010” lists. Some people can’t even wait that long. For them it’s been that time since mid-November. I don't know where they get off doing this - it’s like saying screw December. Talk like that will get you on Santa’s naughty list.
So I say wait, not only until January 1 of the following year, but until everything from the year before has sunk in, which in my case could take decades. I do get around to a vague and non-committal statement by mid-January, though.
My Old Pazz and Jop:
At least some people understand this need to wait. Like the Village Voice with their Pazz and Jop Poll, which only came out, what? Last week? And that’s pretty good for them.
I always looked forward to Pazz and Jop. In the seventies, because it was great for seeing how familiar music measured up. It wasn’t that hard to keep up. Radio stations weren’t awful yet, and I liked to buy records.
Over time, though, it got harder and harder to keep up. I still liked music, but radio was getting steadily worse. By the early 80’s, I deemed commercial radio to be Officially Useless. I had no recourse but to wait months to hear about what a whole swath of music critics and fans were experiencing.
Eventually Pazz and Jop would be the first place I’d hear about something. I remember seeing a Pazz and Jop from the mid 90s and thinking who the hell is Liz Phair? She’d won that year, for “Exile in Guyville”, which is now one of my all time favorite albums.
This scenario would repeat itself over and over again. Occasionally I’d be disappointed, especially when a poll winner was in a music genre I didn’t yet - or never would - get. But the great discoveries would more than make up for this.
List of Lists, and Lists of Lists of Lists:
But Pazz and Jop isn’t as essential as it used to be.
For one thing, it’s a whole lot easier to find out about new music now than it was in the dark days of the 80s and the great but hard to follow 90s. Did someone just mention a band to you? Google them and you can find out about and maybe even hear their latest songs. Type in allmusic.com and you get a biography and discography. And if you want to know how an album is, and you don’t know if the critic you’re reading shares your taste, you can use a site like metacritic.com to see what dozens of critics and fans think of it. Totally reliable? Of course not. But on a week to week basis I know what’s coming out, and then, by the time the year end lists come out, the results are not a total surprise.
And for another, well, there are all of these other lists now.
So, without further ado, the following is a fairly arbitrary list of 2010 Album lists compiled by various individuals/magazines/cabals, which I’ve stumbled across over the last few weeks. It could be more comprehensive, but then that would have involved actual work.
NME: stands for New Musical Express, from England. Now the Brits, aside from giving us great bands like the Beatles and Stones, can be a bit odd, and they sometimes have some very lame music here. (It must be the language difference.) So take this list with a grain of salt.
One way of hedging your bets is to use NME’s Aggregated List, which pulls together critical reactions from all over, whatever that means.
And Stereogum is, well, Stereogum. And a million more other ones, too.
Never heard of any of this? Stop worrying about that. Of course you haven’t heard of them. You’ve been raising a family and working for a living. But keep going. It’s too late to stop now.
And one of the items on my list of lists, is, well, a list of lists. Jesus Freaking Christ, I thought I was bad. But, hey, knock yourself out.
And of course, the old no longer perfect, but still wonderful Pazz and Jop, which I will be going over with a fine tooth comb over the year.
You've already pored over the above lists? Well then, move onto someone's opinion of what the Underrated Albums are. Honestly, where do these young folks find the time?
And when you’re done, you can move onto the Top Albums of All Time (including the Jurassic period) which not only aggregates the lists of many, many people, but also allows you to add your own. I don’t know about you, but I've just found my major time suck for 2011!
Time to Get a Grip:
When you’ve finished looking over this stuff, you may think:
Fine, Jaybee, but
a). I never heard of any of this, so
b). I don’t care about it, or
c). It can’t possibly be as good as what I listened to when I was younger, so
d). it must suck.
To which I say:
a). Please see the note above about you having that life. Congratulations on that, but it doesn’t mean you’ve got your finger on the pulse of popular culture.
b). You should care, you old geezer you. Music added joy to your life once and it can again, not just as a means for feeling nostalgia, but as a source of inspiration. Stop acting so old. There’s plenty of time for that when you’re dead.
c). My experience is that the music I’m listening to now is at least as good as what I was listening to in the seventies. Are you going to just stand there and let me have more fun than you?
d). And if you end up not agreeing with me on c), I think you’ll still find that this newer music not only doesn’t suck, it’ll give your old Springsteen records a run for their money.
Now that I’ve utterly convinced you of the error of your ways, you’re probably thinking Jaybee, you’re right again! Where have I been? There’s a sh*tload of music out there I should be checking out. What have I been doing with my life?
To which I say, don’t feel bad. Just jump in. The water’s fine.
But where to start? Well, do you see titles appearing repeatedly? Like Arcade Fire and Vampire Weekend Told you, didn't I? Who did you notice showing up a lot? Maybe you should check them out.
You’ll notice that the pop critics like…pop music. The Americana polls favor…Americana. Keep that in mind as you see something show up repeatedly in the Death Metal polls or Lame Country Music Roundups. So you may want to stick to genres you’re comfortable with. Not a problem. For me, though, what’s really striking is when a genre record is so good it breaks down this “taste wall” and makes an impression in a place where it normally wouldn’t. But know what you’re getting yourself into, and proceed with caution.
My list of Possibilities to Check Out, you ask? Ariel Pink, The National, Deerhunter, Sleigh Bells, Robyn, Beach House, and (gulp) Kanye West. Yes, that Kanye West.
A Final Confession:
After all my exhortations, I have to admit that this doesn’t always work for me.
These ears of mine have their limits, and as the age difference between me and the critics/fans gets greater, these lists just can’t be as reliable as I’d like them to be. They used to make me feel part of a larger community by showing me what I had in common with people I never met. Now sometimes they highlight our differences.
No matter. They got me this far.
And besides, after all this reading and comparing and thinking, my favorite albums end up being the ones that suggest themselves to me no matter how many (or few) times they’re mentioned on a list. They sit there hiding in this sea of information until they decide to make themselves known to me, at which point they plant themselves inside my brain until I just have to go out and get them.
But the lists provide the raw data that feeds this very subconscious subjective process. Without them I’d be limited to only what I happen to hear on my own, and I’d hate to be left to the mercies of radio.
And they’re there to show us that there’s a whole lot more out there for us to enjoy.
On to 2011!
Well, I’m sorry, but that’s how long it takes to get a grip on a year of music, as cramped and limited a grip as it is.
And I’m still catching up on the various year end Best of 2010 Music Polls.
Yes. I admit it. I’m a list nerd. And since I love music, you can imagine how much I love Top Whatever Albums of Whenever lists.
As silly as they may seem, these polls have the advantage of giving you some perspective on a record after the initial enthusiasm (and hype) surrounding it dies down.
And it’s that time of year for everybody’s “Top Albums of 2010” lists. Some people can’t even wait that long. For them it’s been that time since mid-November. I don't know where they get off doing this - it’s like saying screw December. Talk like that will get you on Santa’s naughty list.
So I say wait, not only until January 1 of the following year, but until everything from the year before has sunk in, which in my case could take decades. I do get around to a vague and non-committal statement by mid-January, though.
My Old Pazz and Jop:
At least some people understand this need to wait. Like the Village Voice with their Pazz and Jop Poll, which only came out, what? Last week? And that’s pretty good for them.
I always looked forward to Pazz and Jop. In the seventies, because it was great for seeing how familiar music measured up. It wasn’t that hard to keep up. Radio stations weren’t awful yet, and I liked to buy records.
Over time, though, it got harder and harder to keep up. I still liked music, but radio was getting steadily worse. By the early 80’s, I deemed commercial radio to be Officially Useless. I had no recourse but to wait months to hear about what a whole swath of music critics and fans were experiencing.
Eventually Pazz and Jop would be the first place I’d hear about something. I remember seeing a Pazz and Jop from the mid 90s and thinking who the hell is Liz Phair? She’d won that year, for “Exile in Guyville”, which is now one of my all time favorite albums.
This scenario would repeat itself over and over again. Occasionally I’d be disappointed, especially when a poll winner was in a music genre I didn’t yet - or never would - get. But the great discoveries would more than make up for this.
List of Lists, and Lists of Lists of Lists:
But Pazz and Jop isn’t as essential as it used to be.
For one thing, it’s a whole lot easier to find out about new music now than it was in the dark days of the 80s and the great but hard to follow 90s. Did someone just mention a band to you? Google them and you can find out about and maybe even hear their latest songs. Type in allmusic.com and you get a biography and discography. And if you want to know how an album is, and you don’t know if the critic you’re reading shares your taste, you can use a site like metacritic.com to see what dozens of critics and fans think of it. Totally reliable? Of course not. But on a week to week basis I know what’s coming out, and then, by the time the year end lists come out, the results are not a total surprise.
And for another, well, there are all of these other lists now.
So, without further ado, the following is a fairly arbitrary list of 2010 Album lists compiled by various individuals/magazines/cabals, which I’ve stumbled across over the last few weeks. It could be more comprehensive, but then that would have involved actual work.
NME: stands for New Musical Express, from England. Now the Brits, aside from giving us great bands like the Beatles and Stones, can be a bit odd, and they sometimes have some very lame music here. (It must be the language difference.) So take this list with a grain of salt.
One way of hedging your bets is to use NME’s Aggregated List, which pulls together critical reactions from all over, whatever that means.
And Stereogum is, well, Stereogum. And a million more other ones, too.
Never heard of any of this? Stop worrying about that. Of course you haven’t heard of them. You’ve been raising a family and working for a living. But keep going. It’s too late to stop now.
And one of the items on my list of lists, is, well, a list of lists. Jesus Freaking Christ, I thought I was bad. But, hey, knock yourself out.
And of course, the old no longer perfect, but still wonderful Pazz and Jop, which I will be going over with a fine tooth comb over the year.
You've already pored over the above lists? Well then, move onto someone's opinion of what the Underrated Albums are. Honestly, where do these young folks find the time?
And when you’re done, you can move onto the Top Albums of All Time (including the Jurassic period) which not only aggregates the lists of many, many people, but also allows you to add your own. I don’t know about you, but I've just found my major time suck for 2011!
Time to Get a Grip:
When you’ve finished looking over this stuff, you may think:
Fine, Jaybee, but
a). I never heard of any of this, so
b). I don’t care about it, or
c). It can’t possibly be as good as what I listened to when I was younger, so
d). it must suck.
To which I say:
a). Please see the note above about you having that life. Congratulations on that, but it doesn’t mean you’ve got your finger on the pulse of popular culture.
b). You should care, you old geezer you. Music added joy to your life once and it can again, not just as a means for feeling nostalgia, but as a source of inspiration. Stop acting so old. There’s plenty of time for that when you’re dead.
c). My experience is that the music I’m listening to now is at least as good as what I was listening to in the seventies. Are you going to just stand there and let me have more fun than you?
d). And if you end up not agreeing with me on c), I think you’ll still find that this newer music not only doesn’t suck, it’ll give your old Springsteen records a run for their money.
Now that I’ve utterly convinced you of the error of your ways, you’re probably thinking Jaybee, you’re right again! Where have I been? There’s a sh*tload of music out there I should be checking out. What have I been doing with my life?
To which I say, don’t feel bad. Just jump in. The water’s fine.
But where to start? Well, do you see titles appearing repeatedly? Like Arcade Fire and Vampire Weekend Told you, didn't I? Who did you notice showing up a lot? Maybe you should check them out.
You’ll notice that the pop critics like…pop music. The Americana polls favor…Americana. Keep that in mind as you see something show up repeatedly in the Death Metal polls or Lame Country Music Roundups. So you may want to stick to genres you’re comfortable with. Not a problem. For me, though, what’s really striking is when a genre record is so good it breaks down this “taste wall” and makes an impression in a place where it normally wouldn’t. But know what you’re getting yourself into, and proceed with caution.
My list of Possibilities to Check Out, you ask? Ariel Pink, The National, Deerhunter, Sleigh Bells, Robyn, Beach House, and (gulp) Kanye West. Yes, that Kanye West.
A Final Confession:
After all my exhortations, I have to admit that this doesn’t always work for me.
These ears of mine have their limits, and as the age difference between me and the critics/fans gets greater, these lists just can’t be as reliable as I’d like them to be. They used to make me feel part of a larger community by showing me what I had in common with people I never met. Now sometimes they highlight our differences.
No matter. They got me this far.
And besides, after all this reading and comparing and thinking, my favorite albums end up being the ones that suggest themselves to me no matter how many (or few) times they’re mentioned on a list. They sit there hiding in this sea of information until they decide to make themselves known to me, at which point they plant themselves inside my brain until I just have to go out and get them.
But the lists provide the raw data that feeds this very subconscious subjective process. Without them I’d be limited to only what I happen to hear on my own, and I’d hate to be left to the mercies of radio.
And they’re there to show us that there’s a whole lot more out there for us to enjoy.
On to 2011!
Saturday, January 22, 2011
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?
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?
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