I am always surprised when people describe me as peaceful or calm; the child who got her head stuck under the bed in a fit of rage (who stomped and punched and yelled, and passed out because she cried so hard she couldn't breathe) is still camped out inside me.
Maybe music isn't like this for everyone-- maybe our souls are tuned to different bandwidths-- but there are songs that unleash that child: feral emotions slink around the corners of my ribcage, dart to my stomach, and prepare to attack. With this music singing through my veins I become intoxicated with the ferocity, the jubilance and anguish of this present moment, an exhilaration that is my gut reaction to the best of all music.
I imagine this might be what a skydiver feels as s/he hurtles towards the ground, a ripcord away from death.
Maybe this is what I was after on the basketball court all those years ago, throwing elbows and pitting myself against 6'-something giants I had no business guarding.
Memorized lines from Walt Whitman's "Song of Myself" rise-up, ecstatic,
I celebrate myself, and sing myself!
...I harbor for good or bad, I permit to speak at every hazard,
Nature without check with original energy!
(Exclamations are my own)
I give you now a song that fills me with original energy, drum beats and bow-sawing-across-cello-strings that move my dancing feet across the floor, vocals that evoke the narrator's precarious control over her life, and a rare PJ Harvey guitar solo.
Working with teenagers for a living creates a mercury-rising-in-Death-Valley-heat intolerance for excuse-making; there are only so many times a person can handle hearing, "But THEY did it FIRST!" in a grasp for absolution. One begins to understand the worn-out sayings about friends jumping off bridges. The sad thing is that this is the kind of reaction most of us-- and I'm including myself here-- revert to when we are called on to change our actions.
There was a story on a local news station tonight about my community considering banning plastic bags in an effort to prevent waste; a conversation that is happening in a number of cities. One woman contributed the comment, "I know it's good for the environment, but everybody is already wasting," to the affect that we shouldn't ban them. Not only did this make my mercury spike, but reminded me of two lines in the Gotye song "Eyes Wide Open":
But it was like to stop consuming's to stop being human
And why'd I make a change if you won't?
It wasn't until I watched the music video a few weeks ago that I considered "Eyes Wide Open" as a song not about human relationships, but a song about the environment. The post-apocolypt in me thinks Gotye's got it right.
Some people offered up answers (questions)
We made out like we heard
They were only words
They didn't add up
To a change in the way we were living
And the saddest thing
Is all of it could have been avoided
But it was like to stop consuming's to stop being human
And why'd I make a change if you won't?
We're all in the same boat
Staying afloat for the moment
We walk the plank with our eyes wide open...
Let's care enough about each other and the world to be honest about our
negative habits.
The Devil find himself in the literary device known as limbo. Mise-en-scène: The devil falls through the sky, the purples, oranges, and navy blues of twilight are endless. His arms windmill frantically until he accepts that this is a one way journey, and gravity is in control.
10. "Sleep Alone" 909s in DarkTimes Mix - Bat for Lashes
A suitably dark remix of the Bat for Lashes song finds Mr. Devil in a low-lit room, supine on a cheap spring mattress of a rat-infested motel whose neon "vacancy" sign zaps on and off like a camp-light being assaulted by mosquitoes. He's smoking, flicking brimstone ashes onto the bed covers .
Last night's parties and last night's heart has shown
Smiling and welling and kissing all I know
Give my soul, give my soul, sing it free across the sea
Lonely spell to conjure you, but conjure hell is all I do
11. "Way Down" - Tori Amos
That night, his dreams are fevered.
Don't you hear the laughter on the way... down.
12. "The Devil" - PJ Harvey
But in the morning the slippery Devil begins to sense that there are places for him to exact revenge on humanity for his own crimes, insinuating himself into the lives of people weakened by the difficulties and confusions of mortality.
13. "Look Back in Anger" - David Bowie
And why not punish humanity? This life could be crafted into a hell!
14. "Do You Feel Loved" - U2
A song about a drug-induced euphoria (one of the sonically dirtiest songs I know) brings us to the point in our story where the Devil feels really pleased with himself, seeing all the destruction-by-illusion he's accomplishing in the world.
...My tongue to tell you the sweetest lies
...Do you feel loved?
15. "The Devil" - Anna Calvi
The Devil makes this promise, "Wait for God/ Fall for me." He wants us to believe that the physical world is all we have, and the Devil will deliver. He's pleased to continue to deal with us, and hey, "The Devil will come" when called. It's his best line, his biggest trick, and it works far too well. Though, in the end, the Devil's over-confidence will accomplish about as much for the Devil as Frank Costello's (Jack Nicholson's character in The Departed) did for him. His time will come to a close, but he can't see it yet.
Ryan's coworkers have started a group dedicated to making and sharing mix cds called, "The Order of the Mixtape." A few months back, the Order decided that we would all contribute a phrase that would be randomly assigned to another group member to create a mix for the month. I was thrilled when I got "Speak of the Devil" from Katie, and became consumed with the task of creating the perfect mix: I spent much of my free time incubating the mix and went so far as developing a storyline for the songs. Today's post will cover the Devil's time prior to being cast out of heaven, while part two's installment (out soon!) will begin with the Devil in limbo and bring things to the current state of affairs.
Before I get started on relating the storyline, it's important to note that the English Major nerd in me was a big reason I got so enthused about this project. In college I read Milton's Paradise Lost and frequently found myself saying, "You know, the Devil really has a good point here when....WHA! I'm agreeing with THE DEVIL?!" Now, Mr. Milton really knew what he was doing in inking a devil that seems so RIGHT in his thinking at times: Milton is making a statement about the spiritual condition of humanity that we would find the Devil's arguments so seductive and agreeable (side note: Hitler was good at this too). And why not? Don't we all have a lot in common with the Devil? Isn't his story a pretty human story?
1. "I Wanna Be Adored" - The Stone Roses
Our tale opens with a scene of Satan, the most beautiful of creations, feeling really great about himself, enjoying the attention he knows he so rightly deserves. Already he's pride is his strongest trait and, according to many Christian theologists, the original sin is the sin of pride. Satan's aspiration for adoration is the beginning of his fall from heaven because it eclipses his adoration for his creator as well as the tasks he was created to fulfill.
Admittedly, for this mix, I enjoy the song's oblique reference to Satan, "I don't have to sell my soul/ he's already in me." I was so proud of myself when I figured it out.
2. "Closest Thing to Heaven" - Tears for Fears
Satan is still enjoying the fruits of being "the closest thing to heaven," but he's starting to shirk his duties at the expense of others. He even ignores his reminders: "Throw your arms round the world /Make love your destination."
3. "Be Kind to My Mistakes" - Kate Bush
The Devil has the gall to think he can persuade God into letting the Devil's self-obsession off this time. I imagine many lovers have tried this line of argument.
"I don't know what you are looking for in me.
I don't know what I want, but my heart is needing.
Am I yours? Are you mine?"
"Please...
Please...
Please...
Please be kind,
Be kind to my mistakes.
Be kind,
Be kind
To me."
4. "It's Personal" - The Radio Dept.
The Devil plots and schemes and-- with no intention of changing his behavior-- hopes God will continue to allow him a place of power and honor. (The Devil wants to be adored!) The Devil feels personally attacked when it becomes clear that things won't work out the way he wants them to.
5. "Into the Light" - Siouxsie & the Banshees
The Devil's iniquities are exposed: don't fear, he has his excuses.
"Standing in the light/
I never wanted to be right/ Now I'm attracted by the light/And blinded by the sight."
It's not HIS fault. He was just doing what came naturally.
6. "Ocean of Noise" - Arcade Fire
In fact, it's clearly God's plan that the Devil act so out of tune with what was expected of him in heaven. Perversely, the Devil still thinks these problems can be worked out, that the lies he's beginning to tell might buy him the time he needs to keep a hold on his place in glory. "Now who here among us/ Still believes in choice?/ Not I/ ... You've got your reasons/ And me, I've got mine/ But all the reasons I gave/ Were just lies/ To buy myself some time/ And can we work it out?"
The stormy sounds of the beginning of this song seem in-keeping with the trouble that's brewing for the Devil: he's gonna get his butt kicked out of heaven.
7. "Judas" - Depeche Mode
The Devil goes so far as to accuse God of betraying him by creating him to be the wrong-doing creature he is. The Devil taunts God in his anger, knowing that he's on his way out. Listen to that snide tone: "Is simplicity best/ Or simply the easiest/ The narrowest path/ Is always the holiest/ So walk on barefoot for me/ Suffer some misery/ If you want my love." The Devil just doesn't think God'll do it.
8. "Someone's Got it in for Me" - James
Obviously, the powers that be have it in for the Devil. Part of him wishes he could have a do-over, but he was given his chances and must now accept the consequences: "Someone's got it in for me/ I don't want your sympathy/ Life just never turned out how I wanted it to/ Should have been a shooting star/ ... /
Fall, let it fall away these lies/
To be born again"
Notice how much time the Devil spends making excuses? Sounds familiar to my inner-monologue-listenin'-ear. Join us next time as we find the Devil IN LIMBO.
I had crazy big plans for epic illustrations but ran out of time. Above is the first half of the booklet that I made to go with the CD.
I haven't celebrated the 4th of July in the United States for three years, and whenever I find myself in another country on this day, I am a lot more patriotic than I am stateside.
The reason for this is simple: when I'm abroad I can celebrate the vision and ideals of this country without having to deal with all the people that just want to drunkenly blow things up to celebrate our nation's (violent) birth. I know kids aren't in school, so I can't sit 'em down and have a conversation with them about "what it all means," but it sure would be nice if, like Carl Wilson sings, we could pull together in hope and push each other to continue to make the USA better, striving to fulfill the ideals set out in our founding documents, guaranteeing life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness to ALL our citizens.
Brothers sisters stand firmly and try
Reaching the spacious skies
Fourth of July
It's a classic Carl cut, a sweet and beautiful song.
At my age, I'm stuck smack-dab in the middle of the my-entire-library-is-on-my-hard-drive and vinyl-sounds-best movements, and while I love having portable music (I use Pandora at work, and take my 2nd generation iPod shuffle on vacations) I prefer vinyl. Yes, this preference has to do with sound and the aesthetic of a physical format, but it also has to do with my desire as a human being to interact physically with art.
I know it might seem a bit laughable-- records were mass-produced after all-- but there is still a physical component to lps: I can see the grooves where the physical waves of the music were imprinted, the visible version of the pressure music exerts on the body. I can see where songs change drastically, I can feel the silent spaces between songs with my fingers as I clean my records.
I feel the same way about books; borrowing my friend's Kindle to read a book was a disappointing experience. I missed the sensation of turning pages, of being able to see how many pages I'd read, how many I had left. It took me longer to read the book and felt less substantial. On the Kindle every font was the same, everything black and gray, a shadow world of the soul of books in their physical form. No human being will ever be able to touch a digital book, there is no history of human contact, there are no signs of past reading or cherishing.
Why is this so important? So what? It saves money and probably a few trees. (It doesn't save jobs in local shops, but that is another article. I suggest you go here for a great blog discussion on why buying music [and books for that matter] is important.)
Irises by Van Gogh
I will never forget standing in front of a Van Gogh painting of Irises at the Philadelphia Museum of Art and seeing the brushstrokes in the paint, imagining the artist's hand and eyes at work, his posture as he paused to see what was coming to life before him. The painting was not the two-dimensional thing I had always understood it to be-- it was lumpy, some spots raised up with multiple layers of paint, others showing the turn of the brush or a correction of a previous mark laid down.
Why should I settle for a "3D" experience of a sculpture or painting on Google-Whatever if I can ever have the chance to see it in person? Imagining the artist staring at a piece of marble (or any other material) and conjuring a being forth is much more awe-inspiring that the distance the computer screen puts between us.
When we allow the distance technology creates to be at the center of our lives, we are losing out. I still remember the excitement I felt as a pre-schooler when we had our weekly "mystery" tactile activity. The teacher brought an object to class in a paper bag and every student stretched out their hand in order to feel it, interact with it, try to guess the object's identity. Everything else I remember from pre-school is pretty expressionistic, but boy, I remember that paper bag.
Teaching students who are BFFs with 2D experiences of life (friendships conducted through texts, all the most interesting sights on the 2" screens of their cell phones) I've found they are not immune to the mystery bag activity, or hands-on art-- in fact, these activities are the ones that bring that magical, elusive light of learning to their eyes. These activities are becoming as rare as White Tigers in young people's TV and electronic filled lives. Our culture is losing the knowledge of how to touch anything other than a keyboard or a screen (and students are losing their ability to manually write, spell, and who needs it anyway with Siri? Welcome illiteracy! Spellyng doznt hav 2 b standrdzd ineemor-- wut iz a printyng pres?).
The physical experience of buying/listening/playing music doesn't stand alone from how we interact with art in general. Technological experiences and conveniences shouldn't be at the expense of human interaction with an object. My romance with the Platonic, abstract ideal has ended. Put me in a room with the physical thing 'cause a hard drive full of music just won't cut it.
The Blogspot dictionary defines music as: "The art or science of combining vocal or instrumental sounds (or both)
to produce beauty of form, harmony, and expression of emotion."
This week I challenged my 7th grade music appreciation class to create definitions for "music." Most of them have only been exposed to highly commercial tunes, so it's painfully easy to challenge their notions of what qualifies something as music. Even the wrinkle that a song might be good though it's not in their personal taste is a bit of a revelation.
One of the pieces I played for students (and you can view my entire playlist at the end of this entry), is the song "4:33" by John Cage. My own experience with the song, as a freshman taking a history of the blues class, was not dissimilar to what I experience in my classroom when I play the song. See what you think (if you haven't viewed it before) before reading on. This is just one example I pulled from youtube; it's been performed by many.
My peers simultaneously experienced disbelief and annoyance. Was this a joke? It had to be! I was confused too, but I wanted to figure out what was happening, and I thank my high school English teachers for making me reach so hard for subtext. I heard instrumentalists practicing down the hall, a saxophonist repeating the same bits of a song over and over until they got it right, birds singing outside the windows of the classroom, the buzz of the tv monitor, my classmates angry whispers.
"They missed the point. There’s no
such thing as silence. What they thought was silence, because they
didn’t know how to listen, was full of accidental sounds. You could hear
the wind stirring outside during the first movement. During the second,
raindrops began pattering the roof, and during the third the people
themselves made all kinds of interesting sounds as they talked or walked
out."
This is a song that invites the listener to pay attention to the life, the music that is around them. Every time this song is played it is different, unique to each listener. This song has more lives than the Gallifreyan Doctor, and it perplexes and compels, knows something the listener doesn't know.
It would be all too easy to scoff at this "4:33", to ignore the questions it's asking about the very nature of music. Like Cage, I subscribe to the notion that music has always existed-- will continue to exist-- that the rustling of the leaves was the first applause, the rhythm of the heartbeat the first 4/4 time signature. When I play "4:33", I delight in stopping and hearing what I usually miss. And, to be truthful, every time I share this with a new group of students I delight in watching them struggle to comprehend what is happening.
Below is the music of my mini listening lesson. While the purpose is to help students clarify a personal definition of music, it is quite self-indulgent. Because I spend a great deal of time listening to music students love, I use this rare opportunity to play music I love. The first one's a doozy -- and one of my favorite songs of all time!
1. "Greenfield Morning I Pushed an Empty Baby Carriage All Over the City" - Yoko Ono
2. "Search and Destroy" - The Stooges
3. 4'33" - John Cage
4. "Judy is a Punk" - The Ramones
5. "Weeping Wall" - David Bowie
6. "Hong Kong Garden" - Siouxsie and the Banshees
For anyone who's ever played in a band, there is no high to be gotten in life that exceeds the moment when all the right notes swell up together, a symphonic wave, and wash over the players. In that moment the feeling of rightness is not abstract, it is absolute; everyone is tuned in, everyone is present, those sound waves are passing through bodies synchronously. It feels like life enhanced, from black-and-white to color, iPod earbud to surround sound.
There are many years of stretching, reaching for the right notes, veering off pitch, squeaking, squawking, banging the wrong drum, scrabbling for the melody like a mountain climber losing their grip. It's ugly and painful, but the satisfaction of the song played well is righteous.
We feel the song in the dark, in our toes, our hips, our heads bopping. The song travels the length of our spines, the strands of our hair, reaching (literally) into our minds. The voice rises up, the heart changes its rhythm; there is nowhere to go but inside the song.
To solely listen is to be alone, but to sing, to dance, is to join oneself to moment.
I am picking up my bass and remembering that each finger being cajoled into position, my right hand learning where the strings sit, my toes tapping a beat my pinky finger might miss, will one day result in that supreme feeling of being part of a song that is so much bigger than I am, a song in which I have a role.
I just finished reading the "33 1/3" series book Murmur. One of the most intriguing ideas put forth in the book is the idea of the distance between pop music and the listener, that the distance itself is a text we read unconsciously. I found myself pondering this notion in the music appreciation elective class I teach (this year it's titled "World of Music" and aims to expose the students to many types of world music that lie outside the norm of pop radio). The big class project I run is to have each student do a presentation giving the history of a song and why they love it. As a result, I listen to a lot of music I would normally dismiss as pop drivel, but today, as I listened to Chris Brown and Justin Bieber singing "Next to You", I got caught up in the idea of the distance between a pop song and the listener, and why top 40 pop is perpetually the domain of teens (and especially girls).
Pop music has always been about the pin-up of a boy's
dreamy face in girl's bedroom (locker, cell phone, facebook profile,
etc.). Anyone remember Tiger Beat? I, too, know the twitterpation a good pair of eyes can cause.
Some teen girls spend inordinate amounts of time writing things like "Mrs. Bieber" on their binders, or changing their surname to Bieber on homework assignments. A few of them feel comfortable announcing to the masses that they are already (top secret!) married to Justin Bieber.
A long time ago, some evil genius (probably Shakespeare) realized the fun to be had in tossing the body-chemistry-induced emotions of teen girls to the the lions of lust and longing (though girls emotions regenerate a bit like Prometheus' liver- it's a never ending blood bath). There is no ceiling on the amount of melodrama a heterosexual girl will tolerate in order to have the opportunity to fantasize that a storyline involving a physically/emotionally attractive male could, in fact, happen to her. There is perhaps no better medium for this than a 3-5 minute pop song. Just ask the Beatles.
Check out this video (I know...but it'll help the conversation):
Pop songs like this one have an inherent space in them that capitalizes on fantasy (vague, literal lyrics), and the "Next to You" video does a great job representing this visually. The video is not about the girls in it, but rather the gaze of the males on the females, the actions the guys will take to be near them. Lyrically, it's about the guy's feelings, the way the girl makes him feel, what he wants from her. (There is definitely another post lodged in the subtext here, about how pop songs enforce gender stereotypes. In the interest of staying focused, I'll save that for another post.) There is plenty of space available between the listener and the song, plenty enough to contain the fantasies of millions of teen girls.
Pop songs appeal to the developmental state of late tweens/early teen: their brains are a-whir with focus on their personal needs and desires. Empathy is a long way off yet (college, I'd say). All that space meshes with a closed bedroom door, lights turned off, iPod juiced up, the energy to make those young men ("Well, Rihanna made him mad!" "Bieber is just confident") into exactly the guys they want them to be. They can even imagine that the voice singing is just for them.
And baby, everything that I have is yours
You will never go cold or hungry
I'll be there when you're insecure
Let you know that you're always lovely
Girl, 'cause you are the only thing that I got right now
I generalize, of course, because not every teenage girl is into pop music (and some teenage boys are!). I also recognize that my inner teenage girl remains: she's just a lot smarter about what kind of man she's willing to drool over.
February marks my one year blog-iversary. Last year at this time I took the desperate measure of finding something fulfilling to do; the stretch between winter vacation and spring vacation is incredibly
difficult for teachers-- students' bad behaviors amp up, the days are long and
dreary, and it's hard to find opportunities for rest and rejuvenation. I was downtrodden. My early entries were time consuming pieces of writing that allowed me to stretch out in reflection, to re-enter places I hadn't visited in a while. I'm thankful for this space that is free of criticism and open to my writing whims.
During this last month, in thinking about various posts and not having the time/energy to complete the ones I started ("oh yeah, this time of year is really hard!" -- it took me seven years of teaching to notice the pattern), two recurring questions gelled.
Why do I write so much about the music of my youth?
Why don't I write more about teens?
Obviousness was tapping me on the forehead with her index finger. Writing about the music of my youth is my way of writing about what I do every day. Teens slip into my writing in moments when they seem least present because those little buggers have my heart. Journal poems about my garden become poems about my students
In the summer, the vines twist around each other like
ecstatic children
They reach away
from the wire fence and find each other in open gravity
Unfurling leaves
taste the air like reptile tongues
and then poems that reflect the worries I harbor; I only have a year and a half longer to get them ready for high school!
Not all these green
hearts will make it,
Some will harden
through,
retreat from root and life,
crack from the
vine.
I don't know what this year will bring, but I hope it will be full of more blog entries because the good it has done my soul to spend time writing is incalculable.
I lift an LP in honor of this occasion, my blog-iversary. Thank you, dear friend, for reading.
I'm one of those obsessive readers who carries her book everywhere despite the fact that I know I'll have no time to read it. When I go to work, I take it anyway, and it sits in the passenger seat of my car patiently waiting for a loving caress. There's a comfort in holding a world near, knowing you could plunge into it, sustained by story.
The same has been true of an album for the last week. I put it in my purse as I'm leaving the house, play it in the car, eject it from the car's cd player when I arrive, then put it back in my purse on the off chance that somehow I will find an excuse to play it while I work, or that I might be able to share a song or two with someone. It's a lovely feeling to be treating an album with the reverence I usually treat a book.
Eng-Rock forever! Electro-rock...¡que viva! Vinyl, you will be all mine'l!
This is what my molecules were screaming as my plane's wheels left the tarmac and I began my journey to London.
Many people plan trips to cities around seeing famous sites, but Ryan and I plan our visits around records stores. In my carry-on, I had a carefully researched list Ryan had compiled. He'd spent hours on that thing, researching and compiling a list of British vinyl, and because Ryan was holding down the fort stateside I felt a burden to deliver the goods.
My London hosts are kind, and though I was determined to avoid obsessing over records stores on their time, they made some special trips for me to Soho and the Notting Hill 'hood.
I was hoping against hope that my love of English bands would finally work in my favor...surely there must be an abundance of (affordable) Mancunian rock and Banshees records in London? Surely! And you know, maybe some Pulp...and...and...ok, probably not affordable for the early 90s goods.
The original Rough Trade- in the Basement! Notting Hill 'hood.
The first shot at record shopping I got was on a visit to the Notting Hill neighborhood (newsflash: there is no way that Hugh Grant's character in Notting Hill could afford to live in this neighborhood!!). We visited Portobello Market, had a bit of English style breakfast (eggs on toast! veg!) and meandered about. There's an awesome art display of vinyl records called the Portobello ReCollection there. It's quite a neat thing that no matter where you are going in London, you will accidentally discover something really interesting, unique, famous, or infamous. For example, I walked past houses of famous folk on many of our jaunts; places where Orwell, Hardy, and Ghandi had lived.
Wearing a weird facial expression: I pretend it's my punk face.
Like good music stores everywhere, Rough Trade opened at 10 AM (believe it or not, we were there early enough to have to wait around a bit). The BASEMENT was amazing. Right away I found Boomerang, by The Creatures. I spent about $12 getting a record that usually goes for upwards of $30. There was a massive Prince singles collection, a New Order "True Faith" remix lp I'd never seen but was immediately identifiable because of the leaf image.
The Original Single
12" Remix Single
Whilst there, Mark (one of my very patient hosts) took the opportunity to explain music categories I'd never seen before (Pub Rock and one I've forgotten the name of that was rock music for sport fans!), and to be shocked by all the bands I'd never heard about. It was neat to be shopping abroad and see categories for US New Wave, US Punk, US Rock, Surf Music, etc., a million categories for dance music, as well as the ever so un-PC category of Kraut Rock.
Music & Goods Exchange- Soho
Later in the week, on a Friday night as all the natural-born entertainers came out in Soho, Rae and Mark took me to a few more record shops. Music & Goods Exchange reminded me of CD/Game Exchange a bit, except things were reversed: this place had tons of cool records, and CDs were available in lesser quantity. These are neat stores because each branch specializes in something besides the music they sell. The branch in Soho specializes in comics (in the basement), which wasn't super interesting to me, but given the chance I would definitely visit other branches to check out their collections (one store has vintage clothes, another books, and one has films). My visit there was quite invigorating as I felt I was finally getting a true, English record fix with my purchases.
Upon approaching the counter to purchase the records at this store, I had a couple of realizations. This was the second store I had purchased records from, and I had noticed that they stored the vinyl behind the counter so shoppers would have to bring the sleeves up for what they wanted to buy. I thought that it might perhaps be a space issue-- the shops are pretty small-- or a thievery issue. But, like the first time I had purchased records, the clerk asked me to look at the quality of the vinyl before buying-- he didn't ask me if I wanted to, he expected me to do it. I adore this practice! How cool is it that record store folks in England are concerned about this on a customary basis? It would be considered odd NOT to look at the condition of vinyl before buying.
Sister Ray in Soho- you should visit!
The same thing happened when I purchased records at Sister Ray, just down the street. This was especially exciting because the shop had multiple copies of the Siouxsie & the Banshees singles I was purchasing, and I got to select the best copies. Even cooler, I
got to select from multiple gatefold, limited, clear vinyl editions of one of "The Killing Jar"; I ended up with pressing #13. I loved this store...they had so many records I wanted that I had to put things back. This is highly unusual for me!
Overall, I did pretty well for only purchasing records from a few stores, and I felt very satisfied. I did see quite a few awesome records I couldn't afford to buy, but I also got a fair price on Cure, Banshees, New Order, Prince, U2, James, and Kate Bush records (I got those last couple at an Oxfam in Shaftesbury, but that is a different story).
The weight of my carry-on as I lugged it around Heathrow, JFK, and PDX on my way home was extremely satisfying. The look on Ryan's face as he pulled out all his treats was even better.
For the last five or six years I've documented the prior year of music
listening on a mix CD. The rules I impose on
myself:
-One song max. from each album, and one song max. from each artist.
-Has to fit on one CD.
-Must mix well. I often end up with less than a CD's worth of material because of this rule.
There's no limitation on the year it was created; the song does not have to be from 2011.
Peculiar challenges this year:
-too many slow songs on my list of things to cram onto the CD! Usually I have the opposite problem.
-in my haste I left off an OMD song. See note on track 8.
The complete playlist is embedded at the end of this post.
1. "The Time it is Today" by The Association from Birthday
As a kid, I used to grab The Association's greatest hits LP from my parents collection and play it on my orange and tan Fischer Price record player. It's part of family legend how my dad used to play "Cherish" and pine away over his high school crush, and "Never My Love" is a classic. This year it is the pop/psychedelic track "The Time it is Today" that caught my attention. Some lines are uttered in irony, but there's not mistaking the defiance in this stanza:
They're lying, killing, they're pushing their rules
They tell you the prophets all are just fools
But I know different and I won't be used
It's they that are lost, it's they are confused
I simply cannot say enough good things about this album (follow the link above to see my review of Let England Shake). Here is a masterwork equivalent to any feat of rock 'n' roll storytelling brilliance. Harvey is always great, but her lyric work on this album, her vision and dedication to her theme make this album a classic.
3. "Love Etc." by The Pet Shop Boys from Yes
I refuse to feel guilty about my appreciation for PSB, and this song shows why. I find the video very enjoyable, as well!
4. "Are You Experienced" by Patti Smith from Twelve
Living in Eugene has caused me to rebellious in some of the only ways I know how: I don't own Hendrix, The Grateful Dead, Janis Joplin, Willie Nelson, or Pink Floyd albums. I only have burned copies of Bob Marley, and I refuse to attend the Oregon Country Fair. Yes, in Eugene, this is like being a turncoat. I do own Bob Dylan records though, so I think I'm allowed to stay.
Basically, the first time I ever appreciated a number of songs from the 70s (like "Are You Experienced") is when I heard them on Patti's album Twelve. Patti is a great cover artist because she really understands what the music is about, and gets inside it. (Her cover of U2's "Until the End of the World" is stellar.)
5. "Out to Get You" by James from Laid
I went through a James obsession in the early '00s. About the middle of last school year I got discouraged and downtrodden due to the ever increasing craziness of what it means to be an educator in today's culture (less money, less personnel, more expectations, larger class sizes, etc.). I returned to the warm nesting place that is this album; it was like a vitamin B shot to get me to a positive place for the students.
Insecure, what you gonna do?
Feel so small, they could step on you.
6. "Scarecrow" by Siouxsie and the Banshees from Peepshow
The Banshees were often inspired by film in their songwriting and "Scarecrow" sounds cinematic. The keyboard sounds are fantastic (I'm feeling a little programmable-analog-keyboard research coming on!), the bass line vaguely sinister, the guitar part compelling. Hearing the many colors of Siouxsie's voice in this song is like looking over a painter's shoulder to see their color palette, whispers, growls, and high"ohs" mixed across it. This is an irresistible song, and I'm dancing in my chair as I type these words.
7. "Mercy Street" by Peter Gabriel from So
There is a palpable sense of unrest and longing in "Mercy Street," with harmonies on the choruses that feel like mercy made audible. Pondering the oblique lyrics, it was neat to learn that this gentle, compassionate song is about the poet Anne Sexton, a woman whose poetry I admire, and who had difficulty with her mental health.
8. "Oh Berlin" by U2 from Achtung, Baby Sessions Bonus Tracks
or
"The Misunderstanding" by Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark from Organisation
My personal mix contains the song "Oh Berlin" by U2. I was bummed to discover that I couldn't find it online, so I figured the playlist of Year in Music- 2011 would just have to make the hop over it from "Mercy Street" to "The Upstairs Room." When I realized I'd forgotten OMD though-- !! -- well, it gave me the chance to make it right and include one of their numbers.
I've been listening to OMD a lot this winter, starting with the meager prior knowledge of just knowing "If You Leave," from Pretty in Pink. It's a good song, but I've been pleasantly surprised from the darker, less poppy edge of their work. It's a bit like art history, finding out who they were influenced by, what keyboards they started with, how they helped influence the sounds of other bands, and their connection to some of my Mancunian favorites (can I include Peter Saville in that?). I managed to listen to the first three records in 2011, and of them, Organisation is my favorite.
"The Misunderstanding" has some great sampled sounds, live drums alongside the keyboards, and my personal favorite...overwrought vocals! See lines like the following:
For as we get older we've become less aware
Security lies at the heart of our lives
Attaching ourselves to ourselves
We're extinguished but we're still alive
9. "The Upstairs Room" by the Cure from Japanese Whispers
Dance-y rock that gets my feet moving! "The Upstairs Room" features one of those guitar lines that I can't help but sing along with as well as a fantastic, vivid lyric.
Oh, the kiss!
So alcoholic and slow
10. "Too Late" by M83 from Saturdays = Youth
M83 is my Pandora find of the year. Of course I'm a bit behind as they've a whole new album out now, but this album is just SO good. Usually ballads aren't my territory, but this one takes my breath away, the woodblock at the beginning and the keyboards building into the chorus tickle my ears pink.
11. "Blink and You'll Miss a Revolution" by Cut Copy from Zonoscope
Feel good, sound good, musical revolution! My only complaint is that the video does not feature more of Dan Whitford. Just sayin.
If you are a keyboardist and lead in a band, go see Cut Copy live and take notes on Dan's moves. I have never seen a better lead singer for getting a crowd involved...and the man knows how to telegraph hand clapping and jumping to the crowd...all from behind a keyboard!!
12. "Suzanne and I" by Anna Calvi from Anna Calvi
It is fitting that Calvi's visual persona is that of a (male) flamenco dancer. Her music is dark, precise, and moody, filled with quietness and roaring passion. You can hear Jeff Buckley and Edith Piaf playing heavenly backup as her inspiration.
13. "Cuddle Up" by the Beach Boys from Carl & the Passions
Dennis Wilson...wow. When you think of folks writing heart-melting love songs, you don't think of drummers. This song was on my iPod when I went to England, and listening to it made me think of my boy. It's a warm note to go out on, 2011. You were a good year.
Below, for those of you who might prefer to listen to the mix as intended-- one song after another!-- a youtube playlist is embedded. The notable exception is track 8 ("Oh Berlin" from the Achtung, Baby Sessions); it has been replaced with OMD's "The Misunderstanding."
