What I Talk About When I Talk About 2011

Everyone else has long since published their Best of the Year lists, some as early as November.  Why do I wait until the new year?  Because, as any one of my uncles might say, the old year ain't fekking over yet, is it? 

But not everyone is related to my uncle, so I see these lists begin to sprout up, and all I can think is that there's still plenty of time for new music - especially in the holiday season - that might define the year. 

And it’s not until December 31 at about 11:45pm that I can relax, feeling reasonably sure that no one's going to surprise me with the greatest CD of the year.  But now it's 2012.  2011 is now officially fekking over. So while I await my uncle's list, I'll offer mine.

If you've seen any of my prior Best of Year lists, you already know that "My 2011" has little – and this year, very little - to do with what was actually released that year.  It's all about what I got around to buying/getting/hearing.  So if you’re looking for a genuine "Best of 2011", move on. 

But wait a minute, what was all that crap about maintaining the integrity of the year, you ask?  (Hey, that's a good phrase!  I wished I used it.)  Well I say, what's the difference?  I either heard it this year or I didn't. 

But I probably will, if I may pick a New Year's resolution that isn't too inconvenient, let you know more about what's going on in the year as said year proceeds, than I have in the past.  Are you happy?  Plus it lets me enjoy my New Year's Day hangover without having to tell you everything from scratch.

One moment, while I powder my nose…

Okay.  Back now, feeling…refreshed.

I’d like to think of myself as someone who keeps up to date with music (and books and movies and occasionally, real life), but what really ends up happening is that in any given year, I hear about new records, but don’t actually hear them (and then just the ones I buy) until the following year.  Oh, I could go out and buy them right away, but which ones?  There are thousands of new CDs released every year.  So we’re all literally drowning in new music.  (No, we're not, stupid.  Not literally!  Just testing you.)

And with all the hype floating around out there, it’s hard to distinguish temporary enthusiasms (and outright bs (as opposed to my own, kinder, gentler bs)) from thoughtful opinions on music that might have some lasting value.  Will what I buy today be something I’ll want to hear a year from now?  Better to just wait that year to let it all sort itself out.  Oh, I won't be bored.  I'm still wading through the previous year's stuff.     But if you've got the cash to splurge now, knock yourself out.  (Of course you could put some of that aside for poor, you selfish bastard, but I digress.  The Irish Catholic equation of Pleasure and Selfishness isn't even another post.  It's a whole other blog.)

But all this waiting does put me back about a year, so it’s kind of like showing up for a New Year’s party in February, and then killing everyone's little remaining buzz by talking about how a quieter, smaller party would have been more appropriate.  

So here I am at your door, without even bringing a bottle.

In 2011, I returned to artists who've previously made CDs that I loved. I’m always a little hesitant to do this, since it’s hard to imagine how another record could be anything but a disappointment. And while the new ones I got were not quite obsession-inducing, most were excellent.  Not great, but very, very good.  So it turned out to be kind of an A minus year.  I’ll take it. I've had worse.

And on that note, with apologies to Robert Christgau, I'm going to make another New Year"s Resolution to steal his grading system.  Why not?  Everybody else has.

Next: 2011 - Winter Discontent

Secret History: 1975

What was the world at large listening to during 1975? Dylan, of course. Springsteen, or course. Me, too. I had a mixtape made up mostly of just the two of them. I played it during one of my senior class trips, which tried the patience of a classmate, who wanted to put on “Disco Tex and His Sex-o-lettes”. He’d have his revenge in a year or two.



But what was the year like? It’s hard to objectively say since so much seemed to happen to me. There was heartbreak, high school graduation, getting a driver’s license. I guess the normal stuff associated with turning 18.




Some memories: It’s January, and I’m trying to study for the regents, but the radio plays “Blood on the Tracks” all the way through. It’s the first time I’m hearing it. Then June, at the beach during another class trip, I hear “Born to Run” for the first time. Then hearing Springsteen live from the Bottom Line. Buying “The Basement Tapes”. Yeah, they pretty much owned the year.




But there were other records, too, and many that would become my all time favorites:



Well, there’s Neil Young’s “Tonight’s the Night”, but I already go on about that record far too much.



Then there’s “Siren”, by Roxy Music, where Bryan Ferry seemed to get the last laugh on Brian Eno, by making this not very weird pop record. It’s a great expression of his romanticism, and doesn't skimp on guitar either. “Love is the Drug“ is the "hit" but there are plenty of others that are just as good.




But, of course, Brian Eno is doing just fine, and “Another Green World” is another all time favorite. It's just too difficult to explain.




"Katy Lied" is probably my favorite Steely Dan album. It's got “Doctor Wu”, “Any World I'm Welcome To” and several other very emotional songs from a band that would normally be snickering.




“The Basement Tapes” by Bob Dylan and the Band, is probably the most consistent double album ever made. I can still listen to it all the way through without stopping. A lot of people just don't get it, but it's the perfect distillation of Dylan and Band at one time. So what if the sound is lousy? Just pretend you're listening to it on your old Victrola.






And here are a few records that I missed at the time, but I’ve been trying to make it up to ever since:




Newly minted respected author and photographer Patti Smith could actually get her first album “Horses” played on the radio back then, even though her band were proto-punks, and she wasn’t the greatest singer. In a normal year, she would have been called on all the hype she got, but remember this was the year of the Boss on the cover of Time and Newsweek. She risked looking ridiculous waxing poetic about “boney maroni”. But if you ask me, she holds up better than Genesis.




I couldn’t say if “Natty Dread” is Bob Marley’s best album or not, but it seems to be as good a place to start as any. The production is warm and intimate. It’s rousing and soothing at the same time. “Lively Up Yourself” is just wonderful.




Nils Lofgren had a few lives before becoming an E streeter, one as the leader of the band Grin, who I'll have to sample before I die. Then there was a short stint with Crazy Horse, and doing sessions with people like Neil Young. But he was also a solo artist. He's put out several records, but I've been told that his first is the keeper, and I believe it.




Nils runs through some high strung pop and rock. He's a really sharp guitarist with his own distinctive style. His songwriting is very tight, too. Highlights include “Back It Up”, Carole King's “Going Back”, and “Keith (yes that Keith) Don't Go”. To Toronto, that is, where our favorite rock and roller was in a bit of a spot with the police. My brother hates this record.




The Ramones first album might seem like a gaunlet being thrown down, but it's more of a beer can being squirted in your face. The suds get in your ears so the great production values ($6,000 worth!) are somewhat muffled. No sensitive singer, no guitar solos, can you blame me for hating them on principal? Plus, there was so much other great music going on that I didn’t realize that it was all dying. So I didn't get around to even trying them out until 1979.




Dolly Parton managed to put together another “Best of”, and it’d only been five years since the last one. This one’s just as good, too. Beautiful voice, great songwriting.




If you knew nothing of New Orleans – and I didn’t at the time – you could look at the cover of the “Wild Tchoupitoulas” and feel like you were getting Native American music. As it turns out, you’re merely seeing the band decked out in ceremonial garb for Mardi Gras. And the music inside is as simple and fun as any you’re likely to hear. This is a great place to start to learn about New Orleans music. Not for snobs, though.




Which narrative do you believe about Keith Jarrett? The one that says he's hardly a jazz musician at all? Or that he completely clears his mind of any musical thoughts before a concert, and does pure improvisation? “The Koln Concert” is a great way to make up your mind. Sixty five minute of just Keith playing his piano. The sound is amazing.






Whatever else it was, 1975 was also the beginning of the end for what would later be known as classic rock. Anything else that was good was being forced further out onto the fringes, only to come back and haunt good old rock and roll for years to come.


And like I said, although it isn’t thought of as a great year for music, I still considered it one of the best. But I’m open to the possibility that for once life made music better rather than the other way around.

VH1's Top 100 Songs of the 2000s, or, I Give Up

Okay,so VH1 had their Top 100 Songs of the 2000s on this week, and man did it make me feel old. I clearly have to update my profile to change the phrase “pop music” to “new” or “other” or something, because whatever it is that I like, it sure isn’t popular, at least not on the scale of these songs.


They fall into various groups that maybe get more pathetic as they go on, with the occasional snarky comment in italics, to make me forget the pathetic-ness:


Songs that I Know and Love (2):
14. Gnarls Barkley, “Crazy”
33. Johnny Cash, “Hurt “
As Austin Powers would say, "And that's about it." Just two. There’s nothing more to say, except for you telling me what good taste I have.


Songs I Know and “Like” (19):
By which I mean I wouldn’t switch them off if they came on the radio, and maybe even sing along to.
2. OutKast, “Hey Ya!” – Not their best, but good.
6. Kanye West featuring Jamie Foxx, “Gold Digger”
8. Jay-Z featuring Alicia Keys, “Empire State of Mind”
13. Green Day, “American Idiot”
15. U2 , “Beautiful Day”
17. Coldplay, “Clocks”
18. Christina Aguilera, “Beautiful” mainly because it’s pro gay.
22. Alicia Keys, “Fallin’”
23. P!nk, “Get the Party Started”
26. The White Stripes, “Seven Nation Army”
28. Madonna, “Music”
31. Amy Winehouse, “Rehab”
42. Train, “Drops of Jupiter (Tell Me)”
44. Red Hot Chili Peppers, “Californication”
49. Lady Gaga, “Bad Romance”
53. Blink-182, “All the Small Things “
55. The Killers, “Mr. Brightside”
81. Bruce Springsteen, “The Rising”
88. Fountains of Wayne, “Stacy’s Mom”
89. M.I.A., “Paper Planes”


Songs I Know and Don’t Love (13):
I don’t hate them, but I just don’t care very much about them
5. Kelly Clarkson, “Since U Been Gone”. Way too polished to convey genuine emotion.
7. Justin Timberlake featuring Timbaland, “SexyBack” I don’t know, do young heterosexual men like this song? I gues they can sing it to girls they meet in bars.
12. Black Eyed Peas, “I Gotta Feeling”
16. Beyoncé, “Single Ladies (Put A Ring On It)”
30. Gwen Stefani, “Hollaback Girl”
37. Britney Spears, “Oops!…I Did It Again”
41. R. Kelly, “Trapped in the Closet”
47. Christina, Lil’ Kim, Mya, Pink, “Lady Marmalade”
52. Shakira feautring Wyclef, “Hips Don’t Lie”
78. Plain White T’s, “Hey There Delilah”
86. Aerosmith, “Jaded”
98. 3 Doors Down, “Kryptonite”
100. Sisqò, “Thong Song”  Wait, maybe I do hate this one...


Songs I’ve Heard Of But Maybe Never Heard (5):
These songs have names or phrases that have sunk into the culture so thoroughly that one needn’t actually hear the song.
19. Destiny’s Child, “Bootylicious”
20. Britney Spears, “Toxic”
21. Jay-Z , “99 Problems”
24. Missy Elliott, “Get Ur Freak On”
43. Katy Perry, “I Kissed a Girl”


Songs That, Once You Play Them, I Say, Oh Yeah, That One (7):
And they’re not bad. Just a reflection of how out of touch I am.
1. Beyoncé featuring Jay-Z, “Crazy in Love”. This young lady is so likable (and so beautiful) that I’ll just have to get to know her better.
3. Lady Gaga, “Poker Face” LG’s a lotta fun.
4. Eminem, “Lose Yourself” He makes jokes and then wants to get all serious. Make up your mind, man.
10. 50 Cent, “In Da Club”  Supposedly a thug, but I suspect a phony.
29. Foo Fighters, “The Best of You”
69. Evanescence, “Bring Me to Life”
84. Linkin Park, “In the End”


Songs That, Once You Play Them, I Say, Nope, Never Heard It:
The rest, actually. About 54 songs. Kinda sad, really. I mean, if I’m supposed to do a blog on popular music, I suppose I should have heard them. And if you did play them, maybe I’d say, oh yeah, that one, but probaly not in a good way.
9. Mariah Carey, “We Belong Together” I just don’t get this lady.
11. Rihanna featuring Jay-Z, “Umbrella” I have to admit that this sounded pretty good when I finally did hear it..


And it’s about here, at fifty two more to go, that I just stop caring. (My) life’s too short.


Now that I’ve expressed my opinion, young America need no longer hold its breath.

Bowling, for Music

Sometimes I wonder if I’m nuts, thinking about music so much. I mean, it’s not like I even play an instrument very well. Perhaps it’s that very lack of ability in music that causes me to overcompensate by listening and reading and writing so much about it.


The term hobby sounds harmless enough. Obsession is actually kinda sexy. But the bleak reality is an ever growing stack of CDs, forever tipping over and taking up more room than my actual children.

So it’s a cause for worry. Jaybee, I’ll tell myself, maybe it’s time to grow up and merely like music.


But then along comes a guy who outdoes me by a mile, leaving me feeling both very relieved and a touch jealous. His name’s David Bowling, and he writes for BC (blogcritics)

Here’s his bio, with my admittedly envious commentary:

I have been collecting vinyl records for over forty years….
Yeah, so what? I’ve been doing it for…..forty SIX years! In your face DB!


…and my collection is approaching 50.000 records…
Holy shit, I’ve got barely 1,400. Okay, I surrender! The guy’s officially my hero.


My wife Susan and children, Stacey and Amy, have learned to humor my passion.
And suffer from starvation no doubt. And I thought my wife and kids were good sports.


I am now settled in beautiful Whispering Pines, North Carolina...
No doubt because the Band told him to.


…where I work hard…
Allright, stop showing off.


…listen to music…
No shit. You’d better, or else eat those records.


… and write reviews for Blogcritics.
What, and get paid for it too? Well, it’s official now: FML.


And what’s his method? He takes an artist and - get this - REVIEWS EVERY ONE SINGLE ONE OF THEIR ALBUMS!


Why, you might ask? The same reason why a dog licks his balls, I guess. Because he can! He apparently has every record ever recorded. His house isn’t in Whispering Pines, NC. His house IS Whispering Pines, NC.


With all due respect Mr. Bowling, we all have a limited time on this Earth, so it’s okay to give in to what Al Capone link would call our “enthusiasms” and ignore the rest. We are not meant to be encyclopedias, after all.


Besides, there are very few artists who deserve such attention. And someone who would dutifully review the 17th album by Yes link (or the Allman Brothers link , for that matter) had to have something wrong with him. He carries completism – a concept I’ve now officially come down against - to it’s (il)logical extreme.


Someone who listens to music so comprehensively simply cannot be very passionate about it, I tell myself.


But I’m wrong, and I know it. Encyclopedias are exactly what the professionals are supposed to be, god help them. Meanwhile, I get to f*ck off and only write about what I feel like. Base envy has led me to mock David’s dogged commitment, and for that I apologize. (By the way, per David, Yes’s 17th album is slightly better than their 16th, but quite up to par with their 15th. Or was it their 14th? What a life, I thought…)


My method is more like:
• I don’t even have the first album, but I remember hearing it at my friend’s house in 1973. I therefore conclude that the artist has “potential”, but is somewhat “unfocused”.
• I really should listen to the second, but it’s in the basement. I can save a LOT of time by just calling it a “lost masterpiece”.
• I only have the third and fourth albums on 8-track, so I really don’t remember them. Let’s call this a “transitional period”.
• And the rest I don’t have, and I’m frankly am not interested. Hence, my conclusion is that the artist has met with commercial success and I need not add anything to the prevailing wisdom, or that this is a late “unappreciated” (especially by me) period.


Thus with a minimum of time and effort– between dinner and the dishes, let’s say - I can provide you, dear reader, with “fresh insight” or “a unique perspective” on “the high points” of an artist’s career.


But David’s a better human being than me, and I just can’t stand people like that. It’s a love/hate relationship. I love me and hate him. Not true, I hate me most of the time, too.


For the moment, though, I love him, because he’s doing Carole King, which, as David reminds us (not in a nasty way. David’s better than that.) does not begin with “Tapestry”, but, rather, with “Writer”, which is always flying under my radar.


And yes, I could avoid this whole problematic relationship, by just going to allmusic.com link and reading about her whole career and discography, but that’s a place of collective knowledge and opinion. And while it does have its virtues, it does sometimes result in each record in an artist’s discography viewed as being the best, because each review is written by someone different. Sometimes it’s better to just have one consistent viewpoint taking on each record, one after the other (after the other).


So long live David. He makes me feel like shit. He makes me feel great. And, him being the nice guy that he is, I’m sure this is all very, very important to him.


Plus he uses the baby’s picture in his profile.  (Oh, David, I so want to hate you. Why do you make it so hard?)


Come on David, do Elton John next. I dare you!

Secret History: 1974

My doubts about the mainstream are only growing by now. Good music is officially “hard to find”, at least for me, a seventeen year old. By which I mean I can no longer simply turn the radio on and expect to hear something I really like.

Forget AM radio. Never being fond of brass or strings, I only liked Motown from a distance. So I missed out on the pleasures of much ‘70s soul.

And FM? I could get by but not without constantly changing the station. So there’s very little below that I actually heard there and enjoyed at the time. So with very few exceptions, it would only be later that I’d find the records below.



The following, is more or less in descending order of quality:

The one true masterpiece is Richard and Linda Thompson’s “I Want To See The Bright Lights Tonight” which reminds me of the first Paul Simon album - simple arrangements and great songs. But Richard's also got his guitar and wife Linda singing along, making this one of the very best of the decade.

Randy Newman seemed to be on a mission to piss off the world - something he wouldn't quite accomplish until a few years later with "Short People". He started with his very weird first solo record, moved onto “Twelve Songs”, where phrases like “yellow man” and “darkies” popped up all over the place. “Sail Away” was a bit of a relief, but on “Good Old Boys”, he goes all out with the strings and tells stories of the American South, now using the N word.

What Randy's got going for him, though, is brilliant songwriting. "Marie" is one of the greatest love songs ever (but only when sung by Randy himself). “Louisiana 1928” would be merely moving if it didn't also remind you of Louisiana 2005. This one's my favorite by him.

If you like to read about music, you’ve already heard about Big Star’s “Radio City”. So all I’m going to say is that what you’ve heard is true. On first listen you might not think much of it because the Beatles were better. Just remember that the Beatles were better than everybody.

“Feats Don't Fail Me Now” was the Little Feat album that made me a fan. Little Feat remind me of beer – the first one you have is always the best.

I'm still waiting for someone to turn “Between Today and Yesterday” into a Broadway musical. Alan Price proves that he's got it with this take on his childhood in the coal towns of England. There are moments on this record that elicit such an emotional response in me (something that I’ll explain at a later time) that I am certain most people will think I'm nuts. I’d like a second opinion.

Neil Young was well into his blue period by now, and people (including me) were beginning to wonder about him, but only after first actually purchasing his records. At first, I was disappointed by “On the Beach”. Side one could be better. I heard a better “See the Sky About to Rain” on a live bootleg with just Neil on the piano. And “Vampire Blues” just isn't funny enough. Ah, but side two! This isn't mood music. It's trance music. And it probably sent most people scurrying back to side one. But it was where I wanted to live. “Motion Pictures” is one of his great depressing songs, but it's the finale "Ambulance Blues" that’s a masterpiece. You're all just pissin in the wind….

I've come to distrust those albums with too serious a theme. But Al Stewart is very likable, so his take on history - “Past Present and Future” - is enjoyable anyway. And like me, you don’t have to believe the Nostradamus stuff to love the last song. This one’s just before Al hits the big time.

You’d think a white British guy trying to sing New Orleans-style and basically stealing Little Feat’s sound, would piss me off a little more. But Robert Palmer’s “Sneakin Sally Through the Alley” ends up sounding better than it sounds, maybe because he used Little Feat as his band. This one bought him a lot of good will from me. And it would only be when he started wearing a suit that I began to find him unbearable.

Most Billy Joel fans love “Turnstiles” or “The Stranger” the best. But don’t overlook “Streetlife Serenader”. It’s a little calmer than his major label debut, and less supercilious (it’s really a word, I swear. Someone called me it once.) There’s some filler on it, but the ones that aren’t, like “Roberta” are quietly wonderful.


And although the following records technically came out in 1973, I’m putting them into 1974, because the artists had already released something else in ’73. That, and ‘cause I felt like it:
It took until “Europe 72” for me to like the Grateful Dead. I then went back to rehear what I had been missing. So the subsequent “Bear’s Choice” almost slipped through the cracks. Plus, I preferred their harmonies to Pigpen’s blues. But side one is gentle and side two is almost hypnotic. Thank you, Pigpen!

One of the highlights of my musical life was that Saturday morning in my room doing homework when I first heard “Incident on 52nd St”. Another was that Sunday afternoon, again in my room, hearing “Rosalita” followed by “NYC Serenade”. I would have sworn that Bruce Springsteen was black or Puerto Rican. I found his mix of rock and roll, latin horns, semi-soul music, and female background choruses intoxicating. Then, when I actually bought “The Wild, the Innocent and the E Street Shuffle” and found that these three songs took up side two, running seven, seven and ten minutes respectively. One of the great, and most audacious, sides in all of rock and roll. Side one’s a bit tame in comparison, but quite good under any other circumstances.



In sum, like the year before, I’m spending more and more time in my room listening to music, instead of hanging with friends doing so. That’s because my friends and I didn’t share the same tastes. That splintering of taste I referred to in prior posts is continuing unabated.

In retrospect, 1974 was not a bad year. The problem is that you should not have to wait for “in retrospect” to know.

To iPod or Not iPod

Sometimes people stop me in the street and ask "Hey Jaybee, you're really cool, so I wanna do the things you do. What’s your take on the iPod?"

My answer to them is: why would I use an iPod when I can already hear the voices in my head? This is usually sufficient for them, and they walk away in deep thought. But I have to admit that it got me thinking.

Last year, I started taking the train to work again, and I noticed that certain things about the subway got on my nerves(!) My train is elevated for most of the trip, so you can get cell phone reception. So some passengers yak incessantly during the commute. I’m an avid reader (i.e., a person who prefers books to people and real life), so I found myself looking up every minute or so, glaring at these perfectly nice people who I wished were dead. I soon learned to not sit next to two women catching up on old times (i.e. things that had happened since their conversation yesterday).

So I decided to use my cell phone to listen to music. And it was great! What had once been a noisy slog to and from work had now turned into another opportunity to hear whatever music I wanted. Living with three other people can constrain your more extreme inclinations in this area. Now I my ears could roam free.

The high point occurred one cool autumn evening on the commute home. I was tired but happy when this ambient instrumental came on. But for some reason I couldn’t place it. This was weird since all of the music came from my own record collection. Was it Eno? Aphex Twin? It took a full minute to place it. “Treefingers” by Radiohead, from “Kid A”. In that moment I had transcended that inherent limitation of enforced familiarity.

But familiarity was good, too. There were other times when I positively stomped my foot in happiness at what I was hearing. “Crooked” by Wussy. That must have looked strange to the two ladies trying to catch up.

But even so, there was something about all this that made me uncomfortable. I felt separated from the world around me. I don’t work in the best neighborhood, and not knowing what’s going on in the immediate area is not a good practice. Not to mention not being able to hear the Mack trucks that speed through the intersections I cross.

One morning, when I was still driving to work I spotted a ten year old about to cross the street at least a block away from me. There was no light at that corner, but he was going anyway, looking straight ahead. I noticed that he was wearing ear buds, obviously listening to an iPod. I began tapping the horn to get his attention, slowing down all the while, but the kid kept crossing. I kept tapping and slowing down until I came to a complete stop at the corner, where he walked right in front of my car without once glancing over at me or the car.

I always regretted not getting out of the car and yelling at him about what he’d just done. I guess I was afraid I’d end up scaring him, and I scare kids too much already. Plus I was late for work.

This stayed with me. As much as I like the idea of improving my environment by adding what I like best – music – to it. I feel like I’m missing something. While music adds to the environment, iPods take something away, too.

And I’ve had enough close calls with cars and such, that the last thing I ought to be doing is limiting helpful sensory input.
So I’m pro Ipod, but anti earbud.

Moreover, while I detest most of what I hear from passing car radios there is something valuable about hearing other people’s music. It provides us with an opportunity to share something, even if most of the time we just end up in a volume war.

So let’s play our music for each other. If we can avoid being obnoxious about it, we might learn something, instead of just being content in our own little worlds.

Good Old Rock and Roll(ers)

Mellow-Life Crisis:



The Jaybees attended a graduation barbeque back in June, where Friend/Music Lover Peter asked what I’ve been listening to lately. Having no short term memory, I couldn’t think of any of the dozen or so CDs I’ve gotten this year so far, except Sufjan Stevens and Belle and Sebastian. This must have smacked of “mellowing” to Peter, who’s finding himself listening to harder and harder rock and roll. Our sons all love the Dropkick Murphys, but he’s gone a step further, taking to singing Blood for Blood’s “Outlaw Anthems” in his car at the top of his lungs.


Me? I’m even more all over the place than usual. But somewhere in there amongst the jazz, world music and Bob Dylan, there must have been at least some hard rock. Deerhunter has the guitars, but they’re a bit dreamy. And Pavement are just too ironic to let it all hang out. Damn it, my music has been too damned “mature” lately.

Well, there was “Bossanova” by the Pixies…


… which came out in 1990 – one year after “Doolittle”, which some consider the best album of the 1980s. I’d gotten it late in 1989 but found that, while there were a few great moments, there were just too many weird ones. Overrated, I decided. And since it was one of the last vinyl records I ever got, it sat un-played in my basement for years.


So although I wasn’t dying to get another Pixies record, “Bossanova” hit my radar when I heard that it smoothed over some of their rougher edges. Well, I thought, that’s all the Pixies really needed. And now with them doing reunion tours and being canonized in documentaries, all I needed was a steep discount price, which I got at Other Music, my new favorite record store. Okay, it was a used copy, but I’m okay with that. I’ve grown (even cheaper)!


And we were all getting into the full sound and punch-in-the-chest guitar of “Bossanova” when Mrs. Jaybee, who loves “Monkey Gone to Heaven”, asked where “Doolittle” was. In the basement, next to the washing machine, hint, hint, I said. For someone who loved his vinyl so much, she countered, I didn’t get much laundry done. She downloaded it.


And it was no contest. Like “Tonight’s The Night” coming on at a “Homegrown” listening party link, “Doolittle” kicked “Bossanova”’s ass. Doolittle was awesome!


So what’s going on here? Why is “Doolittle” so much better?

Well, on “Bossanova”, the band is loud and the sound full, though somewhat homogenized, making too many songs sound the same. On “Doolittle”, the sound is modeled to each song. And it’s not a constant barrage. Instead, instruments go in and out as needed, making everything that much more dynamic. The quiet spots make the crescendos that much more powerful.


The only time Black Francis sounds insane (just a bit upset, really) on “Bossanova” is on “Rock Music”. Elsewhere he’s just a bit strange. But on “Doolittle”, he’s eight different kinds of crazy at least. And he’s not alone. With Kim Deal singing la la la la on “Gouge Away”, it’s like the family from “Texas Chainsaw Massacre” or “Pink Flamingos” formed a band.


Which brings me to my other big problem with “Bossanova”: where’s Kim? Oh, you occasionally hear her doing background vocals, but instead of being part of the family, here she’s just a member of the band.


As is drummer David Lovering, who, on “Doolittle” is banging that snare drum every time you think it’s time to sit back and relax. He even sings a creepy little number, adding to the family vibe.


It’s hard to fault Joey Santiago’s guitar. He’s doing everything he can to make the music strong. It’s just that the music’s a bit of a bore. So there’s very little of the almost comic book zaniness of “Doolittle”.


And yet I’d be wrong to call “Bossanova” bad. You’d think it was excellent if you never heard “Doolittle”.


It comes down to “Bossanova” beging a bit glossy. I don’t blame Black Francis for wanting to hit the big time. The howls and screeches of “Doolittle” were only going to take him so far.




I’m Younger Than That Now:


But none of this explains why “Doolittle” got to be better than “Bossanova”. The music didn’t change, but apparently we did. Why do we now prefer the screeches to the gloss?


Flashback to Thanksgiving 1988: The Jaybees are getting ready to go to the in-laws for dinner. We’re trying to prepare hors d'oeuvres and get Daughter Theresa ready. She’s a few months old and a bit colicky. It’s all very slow going, especially with me flipping vinyl every twenty minutes.


This particular day I’m playing Sonic Youth’s “Daydream Nation”. Not exactly holiday music, but great music is great music, right? It should be suitable for any occasion and be recognized by all for its greatness. Alas, it didn’t turn out that way. By the middle of side three, Mrs. Jaybee is asking me to please turn that sh*t off (as was Daughter Theresa, in her own way) – something she’d never done before. Okay, lesson learned.


It’s understandable that, with an infant, you need as little noise as possible. So, as a consequence, we were playing less loud music. Was this how it happened, I wondered? Were we now on the slippery slope to respectability? Would we one day wake up to find we no longer liked rock and roll?


After all, it’s been twenty years and one child since we first got “Doolittle”, and Mrs Jaybee liked it even less than me at the time. But somehow we didn’t follow the usual pattern – that dreaded mellowing out as you get older.


Sure, when the kids were smaller, they tended to watch a lot of TV so me and the Misses just weren’t listening to much of anything for a while. But as they grew, and we got more control over our time/energy/entertainment options, we found that, explorations of other genres aside, we’re as ready for the loud stuff as ever. Maybe even more so.


Maybe not quite as much as Friend Peter, but that’s okay.


I keep getting records, and as they pile up, I try to choose more carefully as I go. I don’t want just any record. I want a something that has the power to alter me, even as there are a thousand things conspiring to keep me the same. My own age and fears included.


“Bossanova” – as good as it is - is just any record. “Doolittle” will alter you.  And I’m looking for something vital, as I know I become a little less so every day.


And I think that’s what Friend Peter wants, too.