Cruising the international music mags (NME and The Guardian's music page) has brought good fortune: knowledge of two totally rocking bands that will be releasing their first full length albums this year.
If
I was a teenager I would build a shrine to this band. Not only does the
music rule, but the images of individuality, sisterhood (literally and
metaphorically), and confidence cuts me to the heart with joy. And
HAIM's having a blast, too! Rock 'n' roll!
Back in my single livin' days I had this sweet stereo with an alarm I could program to play the songs of my choice, for the length of my choosing. Not only that, but the volume would slowly fade in from zero to the volume I selected. A lot of times, this worked well: I picked songs that I loved so much I couldn't help but wake up (and feel happy about it!). Unfortunately, I missed a lot of 8 AM math classes because my alarm clock dj-ing choices failed at least 30% of the time...especially if didn't choose songs that were jarring enough, and my off-timer was set too optimistically.
After I started sharing an alarm clock with my husband, I learned the joys of the snooze button: he is a master, and I found that - just like coffee - beginning to partake later in life doesn't curb prolific use. Now a snooze button addict myself, it is abnormal for me to go without those blissful extra minutes of sleep, taken 3-5 times as necessary. This in depth study of sleeping as long as possible has revealed there are three musical occasions by which the space-bar sized button is rendered useless.
Occasion #1: So Terrible, You Find Yourself Alarmingly Awake
Hootie and the Blowfish @ 1:10 *blech* This happened to me this morning...and there is just something about the key, or the notes the guitarist plays...I don't know, but I was WIDE and unpleasantly awake.
The ultimate combination of bile-inducing pablum...Rob Thomas and Santana. This song has been dogging me since Spanish 3, and it just won't die...it's a Smooth Zombie. Rather than including the video (and the ear-gouging intro-guitar riff) I offer you Rob Thomas' dragon shirt as a visual metaphor for the song.
Occasion #2: Great Songs, Unfortunate Timing
Sometimes a great song just comes on at the unfortunate point in the music: in-context the section would be particularly moving, but out of context, just strikes the newly awakened eardrum as tortuous. My prime example of this experience is with Penny Lane coming on at 1:13 -- still makes me feel queasy whenever I hear it.
Occasion #3: They Are Playing What?!?!
I like to imagine there is a time-between-times that allows music from
parallel radio dimensions to filter through to us, like the first fingers of
morning sunlight. In these early hours, before radio djs' bosses have arisen from slumber, the poor, top 40 beleaguered music lovers get a moment to stick it to the man, and play sweet, sweet symphonies of pop music.
How else can I account for hearing things like...
Bowie's "Heroes", when ever since Jakob Dylan covered it for Godzilla, it's like the original never happened (boo!). *Great video, btw.*
Patti Smith's "Gloria"; while a landmark, I've only heard it on the radio one time...and it woke me right up! G-L-O-R-I-A!
The saddest thing about this last category is that my shock, like the tenor of a dream, is long remembered, but the song that caused it is not. Maybe next time?
