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?
Sunday, February 27, 2011
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?
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Which George Can Handel It? - All Things Must Pass vs. The Messiah*
Then :
I had gotten my first part time job that year, so my mom said that, now that I had my own money, I could get myself a present. I took her at her word. This only sounds ridiculous to someone who doesn’t know her.
Meanwhile, unbeknownst to me, she went to A&S and got it for me, too. I guess this was meant to be a heartwarming Christmas surprise for me. More like Festivus - the recriminations were a bonus.
Now:
We have everyone over for dinner on Christmas Eve. And although, there’s a lot of cleaning up to do on Christmas morning, especially in the basement where all the kids would hang out, it’s also kind of peaceful. It’s the first day in a long time when we can just relax.
When we sold my mom’s house earlier that year, I ended up with her old record albums. It’s kind of ironic given my checkered history with them. (Link) But I needed to find a place to put them and I decided to slide my own records over to make room for hers. This meant moving other records from shelf to shelf to make more room as I went. But instead of just doing this, I decide to listen to some of these records as I went. This made a process that should have taken minutes drag out for weeks.
By Christmas Day, I was up to the letter H, and found Handel’s Messiah (right there where it belongs: between Arlo Guthrie and Emmylou Harris). On vinyl, it’s a triple album. What the hell, I figured. I was tired, and needed something soothing. Now that Christmas Eve duties have died down, I needed to get away from the new DVDs playing on the TV upstairs. So I gave it a whirl.
And it was perfect.
Then, Again:
Now, Again:
* Not the actual Messiah.
In 1970, I bought myself “All Things Must Pass” for Christmas. Yeah, that’s right, I did it. George Harrison’s triple(!) album magnum opus, all for me.
I had gotten my first part time job that year, so my mom said that, now that I had my own money, I could get myself a present. I took her at her word. This only sounds ridiculous to someone who doesn’t know her.
Meanwhile, unbeknownst to me, she went to A&S and got it for me, too. I guess this was meant to be a heartwarming Christmas surprise for me. More like Festivus - the recriminations were a bonus.
It’s gone down in family lore as one of those disputed stories – my mom telling everyone how generous it was of me to get myself a present like that. It’s been futile trying to remind her that I did exactly as she said, since I didn’t expect anything from her.
So, from the beginning, it was to be a tainted present – one that I would never fully enjoy without a pang of guilt. I even came down with a stomach virus that Christmas Day, and will always remember how the smell of the album cover and colored record sleeves would turn my stomach.
Now:
We have everyone over for dinner on Christmas Eve. And although, there’s a lot of cleaning up to do on Christmas morning, especially in the basement where all the kids would hang out, it’s also kind of peaceful. It’s the first day in a long time when we can just relax.
When we sold my mom’s house earlier that year, I ended up with her old record albums. It’s kind of ironic given my checkered history with them. (Link) But I needed to find a place to put them and I decided to slide my own records over to make room for hers. This meant moving other records from shelf to shelf to make more room as I went. But instead of just doing this, I decide to listen to some of these records as I went. This made a process that should have taken minutes drag out for weeks.
By Christmas Day, I was up to the letter H, and found Handel’s Messiah (right there where it belongs: between Arlo Guthrie and Emmylou Harris). On vinyl, it’s a triple album. What the hell, I figured. I was tired, and needed something soothing. Now that Christmas Eve duties have died down, I needed to get away from the new DVDs playing on the TV upstairs. So I gave it a whirl.
And it was perfect.
So I continue with the H’s, and what do I find, but another triple album - George Harrison’s, All Things Must Pass. It’s kind of beaten up – after all, it’s been 40 years since I got it. The paper still has that faint odor that made me nauseous back then. I put it on.
Then, Again:
In 1970, I told myself it was a great album, and continued to think so for a few years, until my tastes began to undergo a change, and I began to look upon my heroes with a colder eye.
Over time, I’d tell myself that Phil Spector did the usual - and in this case, lousy – everything-but-the-kitchen-sink production on this record. It took a stronger personality than George’s (like John Lennon on Plastic Ono Band - a record I don’t usually put on at Christmas time.) to keep Spector in check and ensure that the record sounded the way he wanted it to. But listening to ATMP again, I know that with the occasional exception, I was wrong.
I don’t know anyone else who’s impressed by the lead off cut, “I’d Have You Anytime”, but it’s one of my favorites. Just hearing it all the way through is a kind of victory. Our Victrola had several pennies taped to the tone arm, because it had a habit of skipping on the first (or last) song of any album I really wanted to hear. (It just knew.) If it persisted in skipping, I’d help out by pressing down on the tone arm. As often as I’d get past the skip successfully, I’d apply too much pressure and gouge a new groove into the record, making a unique and much foreshortened version of the song. You’d have to catch it on the radio or your friend’s house if you ever hoped to hear it the right way again.
Never being a huge fan of fifties music, I didn’t realize that “My Sweet Lord” was an obvious rip-off of the Chiffon’s “He’s So Fine”. And it took me a while to admit it, even though the evidence couldn’t be clearer. But hey, it’s a good record. I just wish he’d have admitted doing it, instead of getting his feelings all hurt about it.
So, what do I think if this record so far? This is how I feel about it:
- My mother thinks I’m selfish
- I’m sick to my stomach
- The cover smells
- The first song skips
- On the second song, George tarnishes my “Beatles Can Do No Wrong” memories.
I used to love “Isn’t It a Pity”. It was long and slow and sad, and it seemed to be about the Beatles breaking up, and it sounded like “Hey Jude” at the end. In other words, it was Serious. And I was a sucker for Serious. Serious was important! So naturally, over the years I forgot about it. Listening to it now, I can think of all the reasons I shouldn’t like it but it still blows me away.
I really enjoy sides two and three, and only wince when Phil botches the title track, adding that awful pedal steel guitar. I could do without the second version of “Isn’t it a Pity”, and the Apple Jam could have fit on a single side if they really tried. In other words, we’ve got a triple that would have made a great double, but I guess George couldn’t confine his philosophical musings to a mere three sides. Man, for someone who was not Lennon or McCartney, George sure took himself seriously.
So to sum up, my feelings are...mixed.
Now, Again:
If I wanted to act all grown up, I could pretend that I preferred Handel’s Messiah to ATMP. But I don’t.
So, what’s my verdict then? Good. Not great, but very, very good. And what more can I ask of someone who has given me so much pleasure, even if he wasn’t Lennon or McCartney? Thank you, George.
And now he’s gone, and I want to cry whenever I see him (or John) in “Hard Day’s Night”.
So I’m not sure exactly where I’d put it in my pantheon, but I do know that ATMP is Major Zeppelin Fan/Pal Joey’s favorite album. Or so he said 35 years ago. I’m certain he hasn’t changed his mind.
* Not the actual Messiah.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Costco Rules: Rule #4 - Checking Out, or, Getting Out Alive
The Check Out Line:
Management should consider having more than one cashier when the line has reached the tire section. Or when customers start eating the rotisserie chickens – or each other – while waiting.
But you can help speed things up by having your ID and credit card ready. The little old ladies who wait until everything is rung up before searching their purse for money won’t make it here. I believe it’s called justifiable homicide.
And I do mean a credit card, by the way. Cash payers are idiots. Have you ever been stuck behind one when they don’t have enough cash? I did, but since he was two feet taller than me, and didn’t look like he appreciated good sarcasm, I kept my mouth shut.
And be efficient in how you place items on the check out conveyor belt. When packed snugly, they really don’t have to take up that much room. However, when placed end to end, the total length exceeds the distance from the earth to the sun.
The Parking Lot:
In the parking lot, try to keep out of the way of the moving cars, especially mine. So don’t walk down the middle of the lane. I'd hate for you to get run over, because an ambulance would block my way to the exit.
And yet paradoxically, don’t stand directly behind a car that’s backing out of a spot. You could get run over twice – once by me backing out, and then again when I complete my turn. It might look suspicious.
I’m ambivalent about where to return your cart. You can return it to the corral, or leave it near your car. Either way works. Just don’t leave it behind my car.
In From the Cold:
On the drive home, you begin to relax. The satisfaction for having finished your Christmas shopping, or securing needed supplies for your family has washed over you.
But just then, you slam on the brakes because the driver in front of you maneuvers his car much like he pushes his cart. The apple pie you so carefully secured atop the cat litter is sliding off and landing top down on your back seat, where you threw that bottle of conditioner. The pump breaks through the pie’s protective cellophane and squirts a repeat rinse’s worth directly below the crust. But that doesn’t matter, because the pie filling is now easing its way into the fabric of your back seat. The loaf of bread that rested atop the pie has fallen next to the cat litter, which has tipped over, and landed on top of it. The bread is now in its original dough shape and size before baking. (Note to self: Try microwaving to restore to original size.)
But it’s okay. That stuff was just blocking your view through the back windshield anyway. It’s now time to go home and bask in the warmth of your family’s gratitude.
There’s no spot in front of the house. You’ll have to double park, or walk half a block with your neighbors getting an intimate view of your toiletries. You double park.
You gallantly grab the heaviest item – the 50 pound sack of dog food - before the rest of the family comes out to help.
Your wife greets you lovingly:
“That’s the wrong dog food.”
But it’s all academic now, because the dog just ran past you into the busy street. For some reason, you’re okay with this.
“I needed shampoo, not conditioner,” your daughter says, as she runs past you, after the dog. (Your son didn’t want either, especially in his favorite pie.) You admit to yourself that she may have mentioned this to you. Your wife and son follow her, muttering words like douchebag, jackass, and nitwit, but they are soon drowned out by screeching breaks, yelling and barking. The epithets resume but this time they are directed at a driver who took umbrage at the dog crossing against the light. You decide that it’s the dog food that requires your immediate attention. Once you’ve brought that in, you get the beer, then the cat litter, the copy paper and finally the four cases of soda. Your wife, son and daughter return with the dog. One of them grabs the napkins.
“You remembered to pick up your favorite ice cream, right?” your wife asks. “Remember, we finished it last night?” Something in your expression tells her to put everything else away for you.
An hour or two later, you’re alone. They’ve all gone out for some reason. You finally sit down to relax when you notice a smell coming from the kitchen. The frozen chicken wings are still sitting on the counter, and they're beyond thawed - more like a soup, really. You want to clean up but can’t find any of the paper towels you just bought.
A few minutes later you look for a beer. You know you have 20 because only four hit the floor when the cardboard handle ripped. But there are none in the fridge. You do find the paper towels there, though. Your son later explains that there was no room for the paper towels in the pantry. Several days later, long after your urge for one has passed, you do find the beer – in the pantry.
Welcome home. Time to start a new list.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Costco Rules: Rule #3 - Basically, Get Out of My Way
I could give you all sorts of reasons for the following, but what it really boils down to is that it's much safer for all of us if you just let me by.
Okay, first, write out a damned list. You don’t have to use it. Just look at it occasionally so that I don’t think you’re just winging it.
And get out of the way. This applies particularly to when you first enter the store. Don’t stop and stare right at the door. There are a thousand shoppers right behind you. Get a move on. It’s not the Emerald City. That annoyed looking person behind you is me.
And as long as you’re getting out of the way, remember that cart? Get that out of the way, too. Don’t leave it in the middle of the aisle. Don’t double park it. Don’t park it next to you while you stare at the shelves. And don’t, don’t leave it in the middle of an intersection. If you do any of these things, it means years in purgatory. (Really. It says so on your receipt.) And if you leave the cart there unattended, you are going to hell.
And if you insist on blocking the aisle, be warned. I AM coming through. If you’re there, I’ll say “excuse me” twice, the second time even more sarcastically than the first. If you’re not there, I will move your cart to another floor, and maybe out into traffic.
Do leave it right up against the shelves. If I need something, I’ll move it out of the way. As a matter of fact, I recommend leaving your cart out of the way at the end of the aisle. Yes, you can carry that case of copy paper all the way down the aisle.
No wandering aimlessly, and no doubling back with the cart. If you failed to pick something up, you’re out of luck. You should have checked your list, which, ideally, is sorted by aisle. You can get the toilet paper the next time you’re here. (Okay, you may double back later, but without the cart. If you can carry the copy paper, you're ready to carry the big screen TV.)
When you’ve changed your mind about something you picked up, go and put it back where it belongs. Don’t leave thawing bag of chicken wings with the gardening supplies. Maybe this situation could have been avoided if you had spent a little more time on that shopping list?...
Next: Reading, Riding, Other Stuff
Costco Rules: Rule #2 - Kids and Other Annoyances
Kids:
EatingKids:
Strap them into the cart. No, I don’t care how old they are. I notice that some of you put them in the basket part of the cart when they’re too big for the seatie. My preference is that you tie them to the front of the cart. On the outside. No, really. It’s legal.
And don’t let them use the karaoke machine. Come to think of it, you don’t use it, either.
No babies. I want to avoid any unnecessary tragedies. You might mistakenly leave the kid and take home a sack of potatoes. And we both know that sacks of potatoes don’t scream or go in their diaper. However, the kids do have more flavor…
Eating
Sorry. Typo.
Speaking of eating, if you’re hungry, what on earth are you doing here? (Oh, I'm sorry, I meant to say enjoy the free food samples. Just don’t block the aisles!) And, for heaven’s sake, show some class. Don’t take more than one sample. Besides, do you really need to sample the ice cream? Guess what? It tastes like ice cream! They really should put up a full length mirror near these displays.
And let’s face it, there’s gonna be a line for the good stuff. If you don’t want to wait, all you’re getting is a cracker or a piece of dried fruit. And I really don’t want you to wait. You’re just going to get in the way. So here’s an option: DON”T HAVE ANY SAMPLES. Don’t worry, you’ll make it home alive, unless you run into me.
The Reading Aisle:
If, while in the book section, you insist on actually reading an entire book, at least move your cart out of the way so that some of us can see the odd cover or two. I know a guy who making his way through Harry Potter this way. He’s up to Goblet of Fire.
What Dress Code?:
And ladies, don’t dress up. Especially the high heels. You're not going out on the town. You're buying 50 pounds of cat litter. I know these seem like very similar activities but just trust me on this.
And I realize that when you actually are going out dancing, men make the opposite mistake. They/we dress like we’re going to Costco. But that’s whole other post.
Proper Identification:
And if you’re dropping by after work, take off your ID. Otherwise, people will think you work there, and ask you where the DVDs are. (Aisle 7. And by the way, haven’t you ever heard of Netflix?).
Moo:
And it won’t kill you to walk on the down escalator. No, your cart won’t come down any faster, but we'll all look a little less like cattle.
Next: Common Aisle Courtesy, or, Get Out of My Way
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