Containing, among other things, my humble effort to bring my fellow sixty(ish) year olds up to date on some current, and frankly, not so current, pop music.
I noticed that a lot of the CDs in James’s bag came from Academy Records - a used record store I’d never visited before. Other Music, which closed a couple of years ago, had been my go-to place.
The prices looked really good, and not being content to simply listen to the CDs James brought me, so I decided to go.
So on top of all my other projects, I’ve now got the "Great Academy Records Scouring" to do.
THANKS, James!!
One of the things that happens at a store like this is you see a lot of records you’d been meaning to get to (or get back to) but didn’t want to spend the bucks on, so you’re dealing with nostalgia and risk-taking but not breaking the bank.
For a while, this sounded different every time I put it on. I eventually caught up and noticed I’ve got nothing unique to say about it. It’s your basic second tier JM record. Some cuts are too long and the sameness of tone takes away from it a bit.
So not GREAT Joni - no “Free Man in Paris” here, she’s already past that - but very very good.
And in its quiet way, some great moments
Another “not their best”. I have it in the basement on 8-track and got to listen to it one or two times before the player broke. But it’s the Stones so I had to find out how it was. (The sixties Stones, mind you. I could give a rat’s ass about the 80s, 90s, 00s and teens versions.)
So the verdict is: actually pretty good. And it would have been considered an excellent album if done by another band, but it is the Stones, after all.
Speaking of “not the best”! I’d gotten this blast from the past for Brother Pat for Christmas 1970. He told me the hardcore JA fans said it was aptly named. But as one who was a bit disappointed by After Bathing at Baxter’s and Volunteers, (let's not even talk about Bark or Long John Silver) I think I’ll take this one.
Terry Riley: A Rainbow in Curved Air (1969)
Spacey, when spacey was brand new. Not as pretty as In a Silent Way. Not as cool as the Dead. It’s on the classical/Sci-fi side. Which is much weirder than either.
How did someone so young create a record in a style that I usually hate and make it so enjoyable? Is it the oh so sharp lyrics? The instrumental backing? Her confident delivery?
And Sonic Youth's Washing Machine (1995) which I'm just gonna have to get back to you on later because that's what it's like for me and Sonic Youth. I need time...
I've since gone back to Academy (maybe I should say I went back to the Academy. I'd get more respect that way.) but that is for another time.
Someday I even hope to tell you what I found in Jame's bag!
For some reason, I wasn’t convinced. Tony was sixteen at the time, which would make me about fifteen. A music snob (snot?) even then, I passed. I didn’t say that to him, of course. I nodded, smiled and said something along the lines of Oh yes, I’ll have to do that.
And I don’t have the slightest inclination to check it out. Sorry, Tony! It’s not you, it’s me. Well, actually it is you because you recommended a record I believed then - and believe still - will be awful. (So I guess it is me, after all.)
Friend Mike was in town for a visit, and since my idea of a good time is going to the record store, we ended up at J&R Music World.
I was looking for Human Switchboard’s first record and were in the H section when he showed me the HSR album.
Mike was speaking in his usual laid back - almost indifferent - tone, which undercut any enthusiasm he seemed to have for the record (mine, too). I somehow wormed my way out of it.
1990:
“You have to check out Be Bop Deluxe,” the moving guy said. (I only remember the year because we were moving into our house.)
No, I don’t. When I see phrases like “art rock” and “progressive rock” I fear I’m going to get a lot of technique and not enough joy. That worked when I was fifteen, but I doubt it still will.
I did come close, though. And I still might, but it’s been nearly thirty years.
Your Music Sucks:
These are just a few of the many incidents over the years of my not taking the musical advice of others. I'm afraid I have profoundly different tastes than the suggester.
Moving man was a BBD enthusiast, and definitely older than Tony, but older folks do form their own “enthusiasms”, don't they? Like Ted Kaczinsky. And if you partake in someone else's enthusiasm, you’re almost obligated to sign up for the cult.
Mike was just being laid back Mike. When Mike gets enthusiastic I sit up in listen, but it wasn’t that day.
So in these and most other cases, I managed what the young people call a “soft pass”.
However, a hard pass may not have been a bad idea. One opportunity for growth that not enough people experience is to have someone tell them that the music they like is terrible. It’s happened to me many times and has taken many forms.
My parents hating the Beatles.
My Led Zeppelin fans telling me how much the Grateful Dead sucked.
Robert Christgau sh*tting on Jackson Browne and the Allman Brothers.
Before Born to Run came out, more than one person told me they hated “that Jew” Bruce Springsteen. (Clearly, the critique quality varied greatly.)
I’m not saying they were wrong and I was right. I’m saying we were both right. (Well, not the anti-Semites. They were wrong on every possible level.)
So I’m not big on people’s suggestions.
And it’s only gotten worse as I get older because I’m painfully aware that I DONT HAVE ALL THE TIME IN THE WORLD - on a given day (no hanging around with friends in the middle of the day like a normal fifteen-year-old) or in my lifespan (I'm sixty-two for god sake.)
James:
So along comes Son Michael’s friend James, who I’ve connected with on a couple of levels, music being just one. He burned a CD for Mike once, and because of the time frame it covered (1969-1980) I liked it at least as much as Michael, who was, to his credit, pretty enthusiastic about it.
It gets better.
For Christmas, James gets me and Mrs. Jaybe four vinyl albums! I haven’t bought vinyl in nearly thirty years.
And now he’s lent me a big bag o’ CDs. Good ones, too. There’s got to be thirty or forty in there.
So before I dive into the bag, I should report on a few records I have gotten a chance to listen to.
The year got off in two unexpected directions, one being hip hop, a genre I suspect I’ll never love, but I at least I got reassurance that I can really like it
There’s no getting around it. This is a rap record. And a real good one. The key, for me, is that there has to be music to go with the rapping. Or the music has to be in the rapping. This one is the former.
But the rapping is good, too. The subject matter isn’t family friendly - he’s not going to win any humanitarian awards - but he seems genuine.
Here’s another one, this time with a female point of view. The music is more (warning, annoying musical description word ahead) sinuous and subtle.
Jazzy, smooth and easy on the ear, which brings you back to it again and again. But once you start to really hear the words you have to confront the pain
I always have a hard time getting started on the new year, since I’m still processing my records from last year.
Once I’ve done that, I’ll also try to catch up on records from the prior year that I missed.
The new year also tempts me to reset in some way - maybe re-assess some older records. And, since this is the last year of the decade, why not give another listen to all the music I heard since 2010?
Then there’s the whole World History Project, which will probably go on until I’m dead.
There’s rarely a time when I don’t have some kind of program going on. And right now I’ve got at least three.
So unlike normal people whose decision tree for listening to music may go something like this:
Do I want to hear this record?
Yes, then put on it on.
No, then find another one.
Mine is slightly different:
Is this record part of WHP and are we up to that year yet?
Yes, then
Do I feel like hearing it?
Yes, then put it on.
No, then
Is it part of my Decade review?
Yes, then
Do I feel like hearing it?
Yes, then put it on.
No, then
Did I buy it recently?
Am I really enjoying it, or do I need to get to know it better?
Yes, then
Do I feel like hearing it?
Yes, then put it on.
No, then
Do I JUST FEEL LIKE HEARING IT?
Yes, then put it on.
No, then go back to the shelf and find another.
I’m not even going to go into whether or not the record would drive another family member nuts...
As embarrassing at this all sounds when written down, I still strangely proud - to the point I find it odd other people don’t do something like it.
So, dear reader, I ask you, do you simply slap on a disc (or play your mp3) a la example one above, or do you have a method?
No?
No all-night “night music” festival?
No stacking of all your live Grateful Dead (or Allman Brothers) albums to simulate an actual show?
No featuring one artist, playing one album after another - no matter how bad the later ones were - until you were done?
So I'll then assume you never have a hip hop weekend?
No blues summer?
No classical winter?
No jazz winter?
Don’t you realize there is layer upon layer of theme, duty, timing, segue, time of day, and time of year to consider??
Don’t you impose any rules on yourself, like: No drastic segues, or don’t play post-Beatle John Lennon on the same day as Post-Beatle George or Paul? (Ringo is fine. He doesn’t count.)
Or only Post Beatles?
All of this is to explain what's taking me so long to keep up. I’m awash in music while simultaneously navigating numerous musical agendas.
But at some point, I must come up for air and report back on what I’ve heard. And I’ve always found the ass-backward approach useful, so let’s deal with some of the new music I’ve just gotten, in descending order of how much Mrs. Jaybee hates it. (What, you don’t think that matters?!)
These records all come from 2018, and all happen to be female artists, none of whom are disappointing:
Mrs. Jaybee hates this record. I barely got to the second song when she said to please stop. When I protested, she put it on to make sure she hated it. And she did.
It’s the voice she said.
But I like it a lot - voice included - so I’m not sure what the problem is. There is a low key whiny-ness to it, and a sameness of tone, but I’ve always been a sucker for that. And the weird-chord droning is cool, too.
Sounds enticing, doesn’t it?
We caught her a few weeks ago when she opened for Interpol and Car Seat Headrest, and she didn’t disappoint. Not me, ‘cause I liked her and not Mrs. Jaybee, because she didn’t.
So I gave it another spin, and I was impressed that the overall sadness didn’t get me down, the guitar playing was agile and the voice committed to each and every song.
Sounds like she’s pretty good-hearted, too. That can help during the cold weather.
Grammy and Pazz and Jop winning and who am I to argue? (Hey, the Grammy’s haven’t been horrible lately. What, with The Suburbs, Morning Phase and Golden Hour winning during this decade. I’m used to them sucking ALL the time.)
This is a real pretty record, sometimes beautiful and snob that I am, it's really only that Grammy imprimatur that's keeping me from loving it.
And Mrs. Jaybee admits to liking it. So it looks like I've bought myself more time.
Well, the old bell curve was bit flatter this year.
During 2017, I heard a lot of very good records but just a few that were great. 2018 had more great stuff but also more disappointments. (How can I be such a pessimist and still manage to get disappointed by things?)
But before getting into the music, let’s see how I did with my 2018 resolutions, broken down by category:
General Classiness:
Cutting down on saying “Awesome”: A-, but
I still say “Let's get on the same page” way too much. B-
Health:
10,000 steps in a day: C+ (It’s more like 7500.)
1,000 words per day. D (It’s more like 75, unless you count talking.)
More Exercise: B- (Hey, I like to walk but anything else requires too much...exercise.)
More Vegetables: B- (Do eggplant parmigiana heroes count?)
Fewer Sweets: B+
Less Drinking: B+ (Yeah, I'm just a barrel of laughs now.)
Music:
Fewer CDs, and more mp3s: A- (It’s going great, but I miss CDs! Vinyl, too.)
Getting current year music: C (Not so good, but then current year music wasn’t so good, either.)
Guitar: A I got a guitar! And I practice, too! (C- for that, though.)
Drive-By Truckers: Brighter Than Creation’s Dark(2008): So modest you could ignore it, so generous it just chips away at your resistance. They combine the sound of the Stones with genuine country, and excellent songwriting.
So if you think I missed out on 2018 music-wise, wait until you get a load of this, thanks mostly to the World History Project:
Hamilton by Ron Chernow: An amazing book. An amazing guy. He makes the biggest workaholic you know sound like a slacker. He should have written a book on productivity.
Burr by Gore Vidal: A delight, as always, and in the context of the WHP, Vidal clearly worked his ass off.
Freedom by Jonathan Franzen: It’s been a long time since I read a “good old novel” that kept me involved all the way through to the end. Brainy, but more importantly, lots of heart.
The Yiddish Policemen’s Union by Michael Chabon: Dark, and yet funny as hell.
Memoirs of Hadrian by Marguerite Yourcenar: Eloquent, beautifully written
Washington: Ron Chernow: Great history.
The Charterhouse of Parma by Stendahl:Funny, cynical, kind of nuts. Very refreshing.
Thomas Jefferson by Christopher Hitchens: Okay, Tom, Vidal and Chernow - not to mention Hamilton and Washington - think you’re an asshole. So who but Christopher Hitchens could rise to your defense?
The Thousand Autumns of Jacob Zoet by David Mitchell: History and love.
The Life of Johnson by Boswell: Even the smartest guys have their blind spots.
Observations:
Like I said, 2018 itself - at least what I heard of it, was less than great. But I’ll be working on the stuff I missed, because I suspect it was a much better year than my ears heard.
Been doing it all my life: Moms, sisters, girlfriends, wives, daughters, nieces, etc.
So it’s only fair that they get me back occasionally. And the difference is that at least when I’m the disappoint-ee, it’s because I've got something to learn.
They’re a foursome led by singer-songwriter Sadie Dupuis.
Vocally, you could easily mistake DuPuis for Liz Phair. But Sadie’s got better production values.
She’s smart and kind of intimidating like Liz, too. Where Liz was overtly sexual, you’d never know where you stood with Sadie.
She’s also got a better guitar player. Her music and lyrics are dense, and the melodies are pretty complicated. And like a boa constrictor, she’s persistent, slowly asphyxiating me with all that detail.
So it’s all a bit too gnarly for me. Which is why I prefer Liz.
And I just wish more songs were as good as “My Dead Girl”.
Loud, awkward, annoying. But never quite obnoxious. This twosome is like the awful couple you mistakenly invite over for dinner, and end up talking about for the next six months.
She sings like a five-year-old, reciting nursery rhymes. Except of course she’s twenty. He plays guitar like he’s throwing out the garbage - with the can - from a fifth-floor walk up.
But they wear you down, too. They just want to have a good time, and what’s wrong with you that you don’t?
What I’d completely missed until now is that they were signed by M.I.A.'s label. The Sleigh Bells are a rock and roll version of M.I.A. Not sure that would be considered a recommendation for older folk but there it is
The bottom line is they’re more like the neighbors on Modern Family - much smarter and daring than you ever gave them credit for.
But you still only invite them over once in a while.
This lady is way too arty/slick for me. Not production-wise. Just “I’ll do whatever I like and expect you to like it-wise. (And look at her sitting on her throne like that. Who she thinks she is!)
And yet Mrs. Jaybee and even son Michael like it. Me? I’m not sold on it just yet but there are a couple of fine moments.
There is a Talking Heads-ish vibe here, which is nice, but if I want that I'll put on Talking Heads.
Things don’t really take off until the sixth song. And the big ending helps, so I thought I’d get into the first half of the record, too, and that this would end up an A-. But it just isn’t happening.
Electronica usually has a pulse, but not always a heart. And while this one’s a bit colder than, say, Jon Hopkins, he's got his own kind of warmth. He’s like the friend who, while not very gregarious, is always there for you.
And just when I thought it might have been a little too forbidding, Mrs. Jaybee said, “put on the one with that great horn melody and the woman’s voice”. Okay, she was conflating two songs but I didn’t even know that until I put it on again.
There’s a definite city vibe to this. Maybe a city of the future, like in Blade Runner but more optimistic.
You might occasionally feel you’re being pushed away, but you’re really just being asked to stop and listen.
Max hit our radar after Mrs. Jaybee picked up the soundtrack to Shutter Island. Compiled by Robbie Robertson it is a tour de force of atmospherics that is mostly drowned out by the movie itself.
One of the two cuts supplied by Richter is used for the closing credits and it is stunning.
For unrelated reasons, I recently decided to watch The Leftovers, a show that Mrs. Jaybee sometimes hated. She loved the music though. And it was done by guess who?
So I ran across an ad for a concert by Max Richter, performing music from The Leftovers, so Mrs. Jaybee and I were all in.
And not leaving well enough alone (thank god) he also included this piece, commemorating the bombing of the London subway in 2005.
As Mrs. Jaybee stated, we’ve never been at a concert with such a well-behaved audience. Everyone was rapt, taking in every note.
Like the show, on this record, Max is accompanied by a small group of musicians. Three violins, two cellos, and himself on keyboards. It’s also sometimes overlaid with the sound of transmissions from the subway.
Max’s music (what we’ve heard at least) is pretty simple and it appeals - without shame - to your emotions. My recommendation is that you go with it.
“I didn’t know you liked country music so much,” says Mrs. Jaybee.
Which translates into “If I knew you liked country music so much…”
But I don’t. I really don’t.
I’m just another holdover from that time when rock 'n roll did Nashville one better by subtracting the glitz and making better country music. Yeah, I know that’s not fair or true, but we had Bob Dylan, the Grateful Dead, and the Flying Burrito Brothers, so we didn’t think we needed George Jones, Merle Haggard or Dolly Parton.
But these days, unless you’re into Alt-Country, you take your rock 'n roll, hold the country thank you very much.
So I don’t even try to get Son-and-guitar-player Michael into it. Forget about Daughter-and-Broadway-Baby Tess. (See above for Mrs. Jaybee.)
I was even beginning to think I didn’t like it either. When I dipped into it, I got very mixed results. I really liked Kacey Musgroves, I was left unimpressed by Miranda Lambert and Brad Paisley.
Or rather, their omnipresent pedal steel guitars put me off for years. They pour it on like ketchup (and I like ketchup). It’s only now when I play those records (at work, of course) that I enjoy their energy and smarts.
So I waited a good long while before dipping my toe back in the pool. But I finally did and it seems the water’s fine.
Yet another singer-songwriter, I thought. When I’m just not feeling it, it’s because I’m mistaking my own tired and limited imagination for what I should be happy to encounter - someone else’s. So I waited a while.
But a singer-songwriter would be better than a country music singer, right? How about an ex-member of the Drive-by Truckers? Now we’re talking.
Since leaving the Truckers, he’s put out a few solo records. And now he’s got a band - The 400 Unit - to help put his songs across. His voice isn’t particularly strong, but his emotional delivery and empathetic lyrics really hit the mark.
I grudgingly admitted that this was a (just another) good record, ho-hum. But when I actually put it on I find I’m impressed by every single song, every single time.
Isbell confronts the world and his own part in it and doesn’t always love what he sees. But he doesn’t whine about it. He’s mature enough to know he owes something to his fellow man and woman. Imperfect as he is, he’s going to try.
And he likes to rock, too. So what if on “Anxiety” he tries to sound like the Beatles (I Want You) and fails? That’s forgivable. I’m anxious, too. On “Cumberland Gap” he tries to sound like Springsteen and succeeds.
Unlike Isbell, McKenna lands pretty squarely on country, but she leaves the pedal steel at the door.
Like Isbell, she doesn’t limit herself to the personal, but she does keep to her hometown and finds the universal there.
There’s maybe one song that isn’t slow to mid-tempo. And that’s okay because McKenna uses the time to nail her vocals, lyrics and melodies.
It’s a relief that her ripe quavering voice isn’t the incoming missile we’ve come to expect from country divas. It’s just perfectly built to put these songs across.
And what songs they are! She makes every word count, dissecting doomed relationships or guiding younger women away from her own mistakes.
The melodies aren’t innovative or spectacular but they never settle for the ordinary. They always find another turn, either down or up or sideways that gives you more than you expected.
And when you put all this together it’s even better than Kacey Musgraves, and maybe even Jason Isbell.
