Forget Everything I Said

Go-Betweens: 16 Lovers Lane (1988)

This is the GBs sixth album, and their last one before taking a ten-year hiatus.

It's also my eighth unless you count the anthology of solo records by each of the two songwriters, Robert McClennan and Robert Forster.

Now, this would seem to go against everything I said a couple of posts ago, yet here we are.

How to explain? Well, in a way this should have been my first GB record. After all, I heard "Streets of Your Town" on the radio in late '88. That timeless pop classic alone should have gotten me to the record store the day I heard it. Shall I say that, as a new parent, I put the care of our newborn first? It's just as likely I was avoiding the "one good song on a crappy album" situation. 

It took two years to get over that. Alas, when I tried to buy it at J&R, they had every other GB record except 16LL. There was an anthology 1978 - 1990, which had "Streets" on it, so I took the plunge. It turned out to be one of my favorite records ever - a great mix of their best album cuts, b-sides, and assorted weirdness. It would take me another six years to venture beyond that record, mainly due to the fear that I had now already heard all their best stuff.

And once I did it wasn't all smooth sailing. Each record had something to offer: some incredible high points, but also some annoyances. The latter were usually supplied by Robert Forster, whose songs didn't always have a clear melodic line, and his singing didn't worry too much about things like pitch. Kind of an MOR Lou Reed, if such a thing were possible. (btw, I'd pay to see that.)

I would learn that these were features, not bugs. Records like Before Hollywood and Tallulah were exactly what they wanted to be. And it was my tough luck if because of that they weren't perfect. 

It would eventually become obvious to (even) me that I liked their post-hiatus records Friends of Rachel Worth and Oceans Apart the best. Maybe by then, Robert decided that if they wanted a hit he'd have to be a little less awkward.

Unfortunately, this coincided with the music business becoming infinitely more superficial, if that were possible, so despite his best efforts to sell out, no one was buying, no matter how great the records were.

So I now came full circle, finally listening to Nutboy, who, in 2011 told me 16LL was his favorite GB record. And ignoring my own misgivings about the diminishing returns from getting multiple albums from the same artist. There are some for whom such a concern simply doesn't count. They're always going to give you something more than what you had before. And the GBs are among them.

Grant McLennan contributes his usual set of literate, emotional, melodic pop songs, "Streets" being merely the best one.

Robert Forster steps up with an almost too pretty "Love is a Sign" and the so sad it's almost funny "I"m All Right". Vocally, he reverts to form with "Clouds" but manages to sidestep the usual snags. The production helps. As a matter of fact, his songs are the prettiest on the record.

What's missing is the powerful rhythmic motor that usually drives their songs. But I guess it's just not that type of record, so they get away with it. 

My only regret is that they didn't get the success the album richly deserved.

A-

So in case you're interested here are my GB albums in order of preference 

Oceans Apart

The Friends of Rachel Worth

16 Lovers Lane

Tallulah

Spring Hill Fair

Before Hollywood

Liberty Belle and the Black Diamond Express

No go and have at it!

On Being Here to Stay, Never Forgetting, Etc.

Hmmm. No sooner have I bitched about the paucity of good rock 'n roll when I get slapped in the head with three excellent records. And what do they have in common? Well, nothing, but only one of the three was by a band I already had a record by. But it's so different from their other one that it almost doesn't count.

This is an early and short take with the grades subject to adjustment (even more than usual).

Spiritualized: Ladies and Gentlemen, We Are Floating in Space (1997)

First, the drug record (see cover), which is reminiscent of many late-sixties jam-mish records, none of which I can quite name.

Almost every melody sounds "pre-owned" but that's not necessarily a problem. In my book, if it doesn't immediately make you think of the other song, it gets a pass. And the only time that happens here is on the last tune, which nicks the riff and overall vibe from "Out of the Blue" - the first cut on the Apple Jam (see?) disc from All Things Must Pass. Which I like!

The lyrics aren't going to win any prizes with phrases like come together and I so too can rock and roll (or something like that), etc., but they're not so awful as to be distracting. And they're sung with so much stoned... commitment that I just go with the flow. A bit like Lonerism but with a higher dosage.

A bit long, but they're on another clock altogether.

Graded leniently, for the feeling of nostalgia it gives me for some other album I've never really heard.

A-

"I Think I'm In Love"

TV on the Radio: Dear Science (2008)

Second, the formerly-arty-but-now-a-little-more-down-to-earth band

Last time out these guys exhausted me with volume, song length, noise, and depressive subject matter. This time there's less of the first three, more rhythm/singing/melody, which almost by definition means less of the fourth thing.

There is almost a sense of humor here.

I love when an artist sticks to his/her vision (a la Neil Young) but sometimes you can do more with less. 

Graded cautiously because there's a lot to take in here.

A-

"Halfway Home"

The Paranoid Style: A Goddamned Impossible Way of Life: (2019)

And finally, the political rock 'n rollers.

For the last few years, I've been partial to the more poppish/melodic bands with female vocalists singing real pretty. 

This is more sleazy rock n' roll and gnarly guitar riffs with the smart as hell female vocalist with a lot to say. Luckily, she's - and I hesitate to use this phrase as an actual compliment in a rock n' roll context - Very Well Informed. 

That might seem...exhausting, but it's not. Each song is a waterfall of words buoyed by a swaggering band charging ever forward. They've got more than a little Clash and Mekons in them. 

Just thirty minutes, but damn near exhilarating.

A-

Grand Ending Statement (that would take too much work to dispute):

So I'm beginning to think we have moved from the era when a small handful of geniuses consistently made the hugest chunk of the great music to one in which many many different people each do a little piece of it. 

That or I'm just a music slut.

Between Rock and an Unheard Place

First, An Explanation (What Else Is New?)

I've been struggling with/apologizing for listening to non-rock/pop records, perhaps to ward off any complaints that I'm a snob. Which is silly, because I am one. Not that I think I'm better than anyone. I just avoid some people/places/things because I think they're dumb, annoying, or worse, boring, just like, I assume some are avoiding me for the same reason. Respect!

What's even worse than Dumb/Annoying/Boring, though, is same-old-same-old.

Which is why I'm slow to get that second record by that band whose first record was great. 

A sub-explanation: By "second" I don't mean the band's second chronological album. This isn't about faltering creativity. It's about how much of any similar thing you need. 

I mean the second record I got by that band. 

On the one hand, if they gave me a unique/exciting experience the first time around, they are likely to do it again the second time. But on the other, it's got to be a departure of some kind, otherwise, it's just a rerun of the first experience. It's a lot to ask I know.

This hesitancy is a powerful force for pushing me to new (to me) bands, and on a larger scale, to new (to me) genres. Thus, my forays into Jazz, Classical, and especially, World music. 

Of course, it takes longer to understand/appreciate/really hear those records. Thus, when I grade them it is typically based more on their "potential for imparting future joy" than, say, that Phoebe Bridgers record which I loved almost immediately. 

So for instance the Rough Guide to the Music of the Sahara wasn't rocking my living room from beginning to end when I gave it an A-. Instead, it was providing me with a new experience that contained several outright great cuts which gave me the time to absorb the more, well, foreign-sounding ones. 

The optimal end result of this is that some of the foreignness disappears - meaning I grow enough for it to now be familiar for it to become part of my "acceptable music" landscape. That along with its intrinsic uniqueness ensures I'll be listening to it for years to come, both to get into it more, but also to just downright enjoy it.  

Somebody: So, Jaybee, why the long intro? Have you been drinking again? You know, the beneath the surface defensiveness (same ol' Jaybee). The need to EXPLAIN.

It's because I have to tell you about some more records and I don't want you to laugh at me. These are the two core-yet-competing impulses that define my every human interaction. It's the "Look At Me, I'm Smart/Don't Laugh at Me" syndrome.

Now it's possible I've just not given the less impressive records a chance to sink in. This is ironic, given that, if anything, the styles are more familiar to me than those of the non-rock genres.

Anyway, here are a few "second" records by rock bands that are good-not-great, followed by two records by not rock bands that are great, not good.

Spoon: Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga  (2007)

The first one was Kill the Moonlight - an excellent record.

This one's got the same rhythmic attack, the same sandy vocals. Maybe a little more guitar. But no brilliant songs like "Don't Let it Get You Down", or "Vittorio E." to put it over the top.

Good, not great, consistent, not brilliant.

B+

"You Got Yr. Cherry Bomb"

Big Thief: Two Hands (2019)

Too mellow (except for "No") and not weird enough.  Except "No".

B+

"Not"

Mountain Goats: The Sunset Tree (2006)

Again, very good, but not essential. Maybe it would be if I got it before Tallahassee. link

Not all that different from Tallahassee, which preceded it. That time, a toxic couple. This time an abusive father. 

Darnielle's voice is just at the edge of unique/annoying. But the tales are still very immediate and compelling - he's one of the best wordsmiths around. Troubled people doing bad things. Again.

On brand, but just not different enough.

B+

"Lion's Teeth"

Toots and the Maytals: Funky Kingston  (1973)

Pros: It includes "Pressure Drop", surely one of the all-time great cuts. 

Cons: It also includes "Country Roads". Yes, the John Denver song. Now I've got nothing against that alcoholic wife-beater, but it was jarring to hear it. Toots et al reggae-afy it and they make it sound easier than it probably was.

This is unpretentious yet smart party music, even if it's not always happy. Toots' vocals propel even the slower songs forward, and even "Louie Louie" sounds like an original.

If you've tried Burning Spear or Culture and found them too tuff, TATM are just what you need. 

A-

"Pressure Drop"

Englebert Humperdinck: Hansel and Gretel (1893) 

Okay, here me out. 

First, it's not that dolt Arnold George Dorsey  I'm not that crazy.

EH is a composer from the 19th Century, and this is his most well-known opera. And it's really great.

The last time I tried opera, it was because Costco was selling ten of them (well, the highlights) for $10. And it sits like a brick on my CD shelf talking up more room than anything else. Space becoming more of an issue, I look back on this decision not with regret but with something else that works out to me not being wrong.

But after seeing snippets of this on Classic Arts Showcase (channels 75 and 165 on my awful cable provider) and being utterly entranced, I jumped in. Hearing the whole thing – all two CDs of it - doesn’t have quite that impact, but it is definitely my go-to opera at this point. There's very little of the overly virtuosic singing that turns me right off. It's far more melodic and sweet.

A-

Last part of disc one.

"Sandman's Aria and Evening Prayer".  It takes a minute but then it's sublime.

So there you have it. With Germany and Jamaica beating out America, my music is beginning to resemble soccer. 

Here's hoping it gets back to being NASCAR.

But Jaybee, you JUST SAID...

 I know what you're thinking. Jaybee, you JUST SAID you were listening to rock n roll.

Well, yeah, I did. It just so happens I'm finding it in odd places, this time in the Sahara. 

The very first time I ventured out of North America and Europe (musically, that is) I landed in South Africa. Soweto, to be specific. That was with The Indestructible Beat of Soweto, back in the eighties. The records below motivated me to head down to the basement and play it. And it sounded just as great as it did then.

Various Artists: Rough Guide to the Music of the Sahara (2005)

The subtitle says it all: Moorish Traditions to Desert Rock and Roll. It covers a lot of ground - literally - as the Sahara is nearly as big as the good old USA. But unlike us, the folks there are pretty spread out, which gives them the room to do their own thing. 

Some stick to their traditions. Others plug in their guitars. So I'd be a liar if I said it was a party record with bouncy rock songs from start to finish. But, like Soweto, it shows how the two approaches are more together than one might suppose.

The first two songs, while traditional, have some subtle melodic elements that one can imagine being used on Western pop.  But it's the third song, combining a call-and-response chant and an ominously chirping electric guitar where the connections become more obvious. 

It might have sounded stranger to me if I hadn't already heard Ocean of Sound, which just parachutes you into Tibet to hear the monks, and then over to LA for the Beach Boys, and expects you to deal with it. The same goes here in that the music is completely on their terms, made to please themselves.

So a little patience is in order. And given that it's a collection, it's not quite as focused as the wonderful Le Tran De Lair from earlier this year, which is a bit more focused and basic.

But this record, like Soweto, gets me thinking that maybe rock 'n roll is just the folk/street music but plugged in, and sometimes even not. 

In other words, it's music that comes from the ground up. 

A-

"Id Chab" by Miriem Hassan

Rachid Taha: Bon Jour (2010)

Rachid was born in Algeria, which, by a strange coincidence is also in the Sahara. (I swear I didn't plan this.)  He grew up in France before his untimely death. 

He takes a very different approach to his Saharan brethren above, who found rock 'n roll in tradition. Rachid just went out and grabbed rock music and, when he saw fit, added some of his own cultures to it. 

As a matter of fact, aside from the vocals, which are in his own language and in the style more akin to some current African genres, you wouldn't blink if you heard this record in a bar. Thus proving not only that they can do rock 'n roll, but do it as well as anyone else. 

This record is far more commercial than most of the artists on Sahara, and the cover is a lot tackier (I LOVE it), but the music is accessible as you could possibly hope.

A-

"Je T'Aime Mon Amour"

Some Good Old - and New - Rock 'n Roll

If you've been following me lately, the closest I've come to actual rock 'n roll has been by way of Niger with Etran De L'air (which absolutely counts, by the way). 

This is not due to snobbery. It's just I'm a big believer in the law of diminishing returns, and familiarity breeding contempt. In other words, the very opposite of Classic Rock radio.

I'm also so in awe of music itself that I assume it's a limited resource and we'll eventually run out. So with that kind of mindset, can you blame me for wanting to rotate the crops a bit? Aside from turning me on to all sorts of not rock 'n roll, when I finally do put on a Classic Rock station I actually enjoy it. (Unless, of course, they insist on playing the same shit again and again.)

Another factor that plays into this is that, upon hearing a great "new" band, I no longer immediately buy their entire catalog. It's as if, I don't want to ruin the effect of that first record.

And at the very bottom of it, there's vanity: I don't want to turn into the guy who sits around saying music isn't as good as it used to be. Let's face it, he hasn't listened to anything for decades so why would anyone give a shit what he thinks?

And there are too many of these guys already, and what they're saying is so utterly unoriginal and wrong they should get a new hobby, like gardening or homosexuality. Seriously. It'll do them good.

But in the meantime...

Dramarama: Cineme Verite (1985)

Finally, a good, unique, rock 'n roll album – one that I missed in the mid-80s, even though (actually, because) there were a couple of hits on it.  John Easedale's got a limited vocal range (which he only pushes too far once or twice) but he's sure got vision.

And the band backs him up, no matter the style a given song commands, and makes it all come alive.

Ah, but with nary a synth to be found, they were denied stardom. (F*ck Duran Duran, by the way.)

My version is a bit long, with eight extra cuts, but hey, that's what you get with vision. Definitely worth it.

A-

"Some Crazy Dame"

Fontaines D.C: A Hero's Death (2020)

D.C., as in Dublin City - a far cry from Drama in New Jersey. 

And thus almost the opposite of Verite. The lyrics are very basic and repeated like chants. The singer has a deeper voice. The tempos rarely get past medium. And the arrangements are the same throughout. 

And yet, it's all very compelling. Maybe because I usually associate this approach with disdain/contempt a la Johnny Rotten in Public Image Limited, whereas here there is a much wider spectrum of feeling tending toward the compassionate and life-affirming

If you consider "life ain't always empty" as a stirring chant, that is. But you had to be there.

A-

Spring 2020: The Time Machine Had an Undo Button

Just another morning in the Jaybee household where I'm listening to an opera while checking out a video on who invented Heavy Metal music.  Who said multitasking was dead?

It’s probably too late to explain to people that I’ve not become a classical music snob. It’s just that there are some mountains – and LVB is one - worth climbing.

But I assure you I am still a pop music snob/t, meaning that I sort of stand by a remark I’ve made a few times that I love music, and I hate people who merely like it. They’re the ones who buy all the bland crap cluttering up the record bins and record charts, thus discouraging the recording of the weirder/ deeper stuff I prefer. But things are much better these days: a random glance at the Billboard top whatever is likely to elicit curiosity from me rather than vomit.

Which is to say that I have been listening to pop(pish) music while climbing the LVB mountain. It resulted in a Jazz avalanche that I'll have to dig out of at some point but whatever.

Don’t believe me? Okay, here goes:

Waxahatchee: St. Cloud (2020)

The young lady who made one of my favorite rock and roll albums of that last decade has gone country and produced something almost as good.

With her slightly gravelly voice, these simple tunes occasionally risk sounding repetitive. (Rock and roll covered that shit up good.) But the tunes, voice, and passion win out. 

A-

"Can't Do Much"

Etran De L'air: No. 1 (2017)

They’re from Africa and have electric guitars. When they crank out are long, primitive but hypnotic call and response grooves. Guaranteed to drive anyone who insists on melody or pretty voices absolutely nuts. I like those things, too but I consider this to be my vacation from it.

It amounts to a so so quality live recording.  Two guitars, rudimentary drums. I don't even hear a bass. And yet it does what rock and roll was always supposed to do: get people up and dancing. You can hear the audience doing just that, even though they never heard the band before. You can tell because at the end one of the band members has to tell them their name. 

A raw, but - if you're open to it - vital record.

A-

"Agrim Agadez"

Perfume Genius: Set My Heart on Fire Immediately (2020)

This one is just the opposite. Slow and ornate, it's just the kind of long, arty opus with overwrought vocals that should rightly sink most other records of the type. But this one damn near soars. Every time he starts to get precious he backs it up with a good melody or arrangement.

I hear dance, rock, electronic, and chamber music. And I've not yet gotten to the bottom of it.

A-

"Leave"

Jocelyn Pook: Flood (1999)

To call this vocal music "classical" might be misleading. The only reason I do is that its best track showed up on a Most Relaxing Classical Music collection (which by the way is really good). The other tracks are not quite at that level, but the overall weirdness itself draws me in.

Another serious, arty record that doesn't make me bust out laughing at all the wrong times. Quite an accomplishment.

B+

"Blow the Wind/Pie Jesu"

Phoebe Bridgers: Punisher (2020)

So when I come back from that vacation from melody and pretty vocals this is where I want to go. Her voice is usually a whisper, so she sounds fragile but then she'll come out with a line about starting a garden after a skinhead neighbor goes missing, or I won't forgive you, but don't hold me to it.

So the songwriting is sturdy, and the arrangements bring out the best in them, especially "Graceland Too".  The title of which - along with her smashing her guitar of SNL - shows she has a healthy (dis)respect of her predecessors. David Crosby tweeted that her SNL stunt was "pathetic". She replied "little bitch".

How could you not love that?

A

"Graceland Too"

You might notice that three of these records came out last year. Old LVB muscled out a lot of 2020. Somebody had to.

But I'm back, at least in the Jaybee sense of being at least a year behind current music, getting distracted by jazz, opera, and heavy metal. In other words, I'm all over the place. 

Where I belong.

The Notorious LVB: 1809-27

1809 - 1811: Me and LVB Take a Break From Each Other, Part One:

We last left off in 1808, and since all I've got left in my collection are the remaining symphonies - which don't pick up again until 1812 - I'd hate for you to think LVB or the world are taking it easy. So here are some chronologies to pore over: one for him and one for us.

But if you can't be bothered, I'll sum it up below:

1809: 

Us: Oh, not much. War is declared against France, so the French army invades Vienna

Him: Teaches music to Archduke Rudolphe and composes a string quartet, a few piano sonatas,  and a bunch of songs for various luminaries.

1810:

Us: France (thanks Napolean!) continues to invade everyone and their moms. The Germans respond by declaring the first-ever Octoberfest. (All agree they should have just stopped right there for the next two hundred years.)

Him: Presents 'The Letter for Elise' to Thérèse Malfatti, for whom he's got the hots. Having addressed his frontal area, he moves on to covering his posterior by continuing to writing tunes for big shots. 

1811:

Us: The King of England goes mad.

Him: He begins writing the seventh symphony

1812: The Seventh Symphony

So while the rest of the world is blowing up, LVB is writing another symphony. This time, he's back to four movements, probably because he realized that having five parts last time was a real a*hole move, even for him.

The first movement starts off with a Blam! I love the opening chord progression. Maybe it appeals to the plebes like me too much but that's okay. LVB's a plebe at heart. Just one who reached for the stars. 

Then two minutes in he's about to up the ante but then pulls back. Sly dog. But he's only setting us up because at five minutes he comes at us even stronger. And he keeps up the bobbing and weaving and boppity-bop rhythm for nine more minutes! Pastoral Schmastoral! LVB's back, baby!  

Is the second movement a funeral march? Not quite - it's got sort of a "Climb Every Mountain" vibe, but with horns instead of nuns - a switch that would have dramatically improved my childhood. 

In the third LVB cheers up, picks up the pace, and adds a rather snappy rhythm. 

In the fourth, he takes it up another notch but keeps things from getting too crazy. He must be on his meds. Ah, but then towards the end they wear off and he's his old crazy self as if to say it's the summer of Ludvig!! 

He conducts it the following year to celebrate the Brits kicking Nappy's ass.

A

"Lenny Number Seven"

1813: The Eighth Symphony:

Having proved he was no sissy last time, he's a little less of a dick now, but still thrashing when necessary. 

In the first movement, he tries to sound "stately" as if he owns a thousand acres, which he kind of does by now. But it still moves. 

The second is short and mellow. I can see putting this on for dinner guests.

The third gets regal, like he thinks he's the king. He was smart enough to not tell the actual king,  though.

The four is customarily fast - the typical Beethoven charge at the gates - nice but nothing amazing. 

And before you know it, it's over.  It's his shortest.  All in all, it feels like this one is made up of the parts that didn't make the last symphony. 

B+

"Lenny Number Eight"

1814 - 1823: Me and LVB Take a Break From Each Other, Part Two:

Then the man drops out for a while, taking a break from Symphonies and lots of other things.

Was it a Clapton break, involving substance abuse followed by long years of mediocre music? Nah. More like a Dylan motorcycle accident break where he (eventually) does the basement tapes once he gets better. 

But what was going on? Oh, let's see: his brother dies, he gets into a custody battle over his nephew and becomes very ill.

By 1820 he's finally composing more, including three piano sonatas, and he's already started on the Ninth Symphony.

1824: The Ninth Symphony 

He just HAD to go back to five movements.  Not only that, each one is loooooonnnnng. The whole thing runs about SIXTY-FIVE Minutes - at least half again as long as anything before it. 

We're in double album territory. Not The Beatles, mind you, which was over 90 minutes long. More like London Calling or Exile on Main Street. You know - double albums that come up a bit short time-wise but are great nonetheless. (Speaking of London Calling, what if LVB - instead of having that 5th movement - just had a hidden track at the end?)

And speaking of the Stones, do you find it as odd as I do that he finishes this with a chorus, kind of like "You Can't Always Get What You Want"? Typical of the Stones to take something meant to be so positive and shitting all over it just before heading on out to Altamont.

Two seconds in and it already feels bigger! (now, there's a sentence I never expected to write...) It moves - rhythmically, melodically, and dynamically - all over the place, and yet it holds together. It reminds me of "Funeral for a Friend/Love Lies Bleeding" in the sense that it takes its time to make its point and expects you to sit there and wait.

It's like listening to a drunk guy in a bar who you think might take a slug at you. He's had a tough life and he's got to take it out on somebody.

The second movement opens with a theme everyone would recognize. Again the insistent rhythm, and, as usual, the rhythm and melody match perfectly. The drunk is angry and might strike out at any moment. By the end of it, I feel like I've done a few rounds with Ali. Float float float float float STING!! You get the idea. 

You finally get to rest in the third movement. The drunk has calmed down and LVB is taking his time. And after years of personal turmoil, he's got a lot to say. Who? Both of them.

The fourth grabs you again. You thought he'd mellowed out, didn't ya? No, he's still drunk and still knocking shit over. And still upset. But then he finally hits that happy stage and loves the world. 

And in the fifth, not only has he started singing, he wants the whole bar to sing with him, too. And they do!

I've gotta admit the singers are really wailing by the end of this one. And the orchestra keeps up with them. The ending combines the orchestral and vocal into what must have been an overwhelming climax. But that's also how I feel about "You Can't Always Get What You Want" which I'll admit I still prefer. 

He conducted it at the premiere, even though he was totally deaf.  When it was over, one of the singers had to turn him around so that he could at least see the audience going nuts.

And well, there it is. One of the "great albums" - snob that I am - that I never quite got comfortable with. I guess I liked his early stuff better before he became a big star and everyone else liked him.

But it's really really good.

"Lenny Number Nine, Number Nine, Number Nine..."

A-

1825 - 27: "...the love you take/make, etc..."

He continues to compose, even starting a tenth symphony. But he's getting ill again and family issues are taking their toll. 

When he passes away the funeral attracts 30,000, and among the pallbearers was that suck-up Franz Schubert. (We'll get to him eventually.)

So after all of this, I must REALLY LOVE Beethoven, right? Not exactly. 

I still a fan of rock 'n roll and pop music. I dip into classical music like I dip into reggae or the blues. I need a change, stay for a while and then go home.

I still love the Beatles, the Stones, and the Who more than any of the Big Three Bs of Classical Music - Beethoven, Bach, Mozart.  Why Mozart you say? 'cuz he's such a little Bitch.

Jk, it's really because it's Brahms, and despite having his Requiem, I can't say I'm up to him yet. (Remember the Jaybee motto: don't let facts/reality stand in the way.)

So I hope this exercise hasn't been a complete waste of time for you. I'm glad I did it because it forced me to listen to it all more closely, and I'm really glad I did.

So rock/pop will always be first, but if someone puts on any of the LVB music I've covered here, I'm going to really enjoy it.

Anyway, let's finish with this small piece you might know as "Schroder's Theme".  

RIP LVB.