BEA ULL #3: sp4cetiger

[sp4cetiger]

04/01
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6:00 AM Tuesday

Woke up for good after a very long night of sleeping, waking up, sleeping, waking up… but at least I’m not sick anymore. Anyway, I wanted to start with something light, so I put on Singles Going Steady (The Buzzcocks). I know, it’s a compilation, but it compiles over a short time period (<3 years) and the songs are all more or less in the same vein, so it works for me. Besides, it seems kind of appropriate that pioneers of pop punk should be represented by a collection of singles. It’s fun.

Keeping with that theme, I decide it’s time for some disco before I go to sleep again. We Are Family (Sister Sledge) is a first listen and only the fourth or fifth complete disco album I’ve heard from the ‘70s. On the surface, it has a very generic sound and seems to put more emphasis on the orchestra than the electronic/disco elements. Even so, the arrangements are actually really cool, especially for the two tracks Joni sings on (“Lost in Music”, “Easier to Love”). I like it, for what it is.

But what is it? If I close my eyes, I see something very similar to what’s on the album’s cover (see below) -- an exotic locale where worldly concerns are limited to love. There is nothing real about it (I would never use the word “exotic” to describe anything real), it’s just escapism. Perhaps that’s what differentiates pop from “serious” music. More to ponder as I drift off to sleep again…

[Norman Bates]

"He's the Greatest Dancer" is such a killer!

[satiemaniac]

Singles Going Steady was my first full album in any vein of punk rock, and I thank God every day that I started there.

[sp4cetiger]

1:30 PM Tuesday

Do some work from home… clean up some of the shit left over from my sick day… my mother-in-law tells me she’s going out for a while, so I decide it’s a perfect time to put some raucous post-punk on the stereo. My noise of choice is Entertainment! (Gang of Four), first listen. I had started listening to it for like 30 seconds the previous day when I was sick and quickly realized it wasn’t gonna work, but now I’m feeling antsy. It’s hard-hitting and energizing at first. Most of the album continues at a similar tempo, borrowing from funk and dub, but I find myself feeling dissatisfied with the lyrics… partly cause I can’t understand most of them and partly cause the bits I’m catching sound… off. I look up the album on the internet and discover that it’s all politics. Based on the written lyrics and the text on the front cover, it seems like generic leftist rhetoric that stopped being interesting in college… eh, I dunno, maybe I’ll try the album again later when I’m in a different mood.

Next is Lodger (David Bowie), one of Bowie’s supposedly underrated gems. It was alright the first time through… I was sort of buying his faux excotica thing on the first half, but this time it just feels all wrong. I don’t know if it’s the album or my mood, but at that moment, I don’t want to hear anymore synthesizers or throbbing rhythms.

I decide that what I need is some dadrock. Flipping through some of my favorites from earlier in the ‘70s, I hit on the perfect choice, Exile on Main Street (Rolling Stones). Weirdly enough, I didn’t really start getting into the Stones until I was deep into this music history project. My dad always loved them, but I instinctively rejected their simplistic melodies and chord progressions. No more, this shit is great and the haters are really missing out. Just like London Calling, it hits me like a burst of energy. Exile, though, is not a continuous high, but rather a journey through Americana which, through some freak of nature, is conveyed expertly by a gang of filthy Englishmen. Maybe we can thank Gram Parsons for that, but regardless, it’s definitely becoming my favorite Stones album and might even make my overall chart when I reopen it.

Finally, after two LPs worth of blues rock, I’m ready for synthesizers again. And I’m not shitting around either, I’m going all out Giorgio Moroder, From Here to Eternity. For the next 30 minutes, this throbbing wankjob sounds to me like the perfect parody of the digital age. The lyrics are ridiculous, but I eat it up like candy. More please.

Shit, I have to pick up my son from daycare...

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RANDOM STUFF: One of the song titles on From Here to Eternity is “Faster Than the Speed of Love”, which is also the title of Brian’s failed book in the TV series, Family Guy. When he first tells Lois about it, she says it’s the “worst title she’s ever heard.” The same could be said for about half the song titles on the album.

[drakonium]

Haha, I listened to that Giorgio album just yesterday, it's definitely really fun. I like it a lot.

[Guest]

If you enjoyed Moroder you should definitely check out Cerrone. Anyway, thoroughly enjoying this.

[sp4cetiger]

5:00 PM Tuesday

As I’m driving to pick up my son from daycare, I flip on the XM Radio ‘70s station. Whenever I’m listening to albums from a particular time period, I try to immerse myself in the popular music as well. Truth be told, I’ve found the ‘70s popular music to be mostly a drag. I hear Elton John, Billy Joel, Fleetwood Mac… I mean, it’s not terrible, but soft rock really doesn’t excite me or soothe me… or much of anything, really. I perk up at two songs: “Play That Funky Music” by Wild Cherry and “December, 1963 (Oh, What a Night)” by the Four Seasons. I mean, I’ve heard them both a million times before, but in my imaginary ‘70s zeitgeist, they feel more fresh. In fact, two genres stand out in the popular music of the decade: funk and disco. Punk would be in there too, but it wasn’t particularly popular and I almost never hear it on ‘70s radio.

Anyway, I get home and my wife is away giving a piano lesson, so it’s my job to put my son to bed. Problem is, when I do his routine (reading, singing, etc.), he doesn’t want to go. In fact, he gets so upset when I leave the room, that for the first time in his life he actually climbs out of the crib (with a loud “thud!”) and starts banging on the door. Jesus. I don’t know whether to be scared, annoyed, or proud of him. I hold him for what must be an hour, but he still doesn’t want to let go of me when I try to put him down. Finally, my wife comes back from the piano lesson and takes over. When she goes into his room, he’s still asking for me, but within five minutes, she has him down and out like a light. Dammit.

Sorry for that completely non-musical digression, but it seemed important to explain why I put on my headphones and started listening to Overkill (Mötorhead). These guys kinda make Black Sabbath sound like pussies and listening to it seems like the next best thing to burying my frustration. It kinda cracks me up, though, that the lead singer got his start in Hawkwind, of all things.

The metal-driven vent is going great, but it’s around this time that I discover that Brandon has supposedly disappeared from our lives. Yeah, that stuff matters to the real me, too. I figure there’s a good chance Jack is right that he’ll be back soon [it turned out to be one day], but on the off chance that he won’t be, I decided to put on Just Another Diamond Day (Vashti Bunyan) as a tribute. It’s like a third or fourth listen for me. Previously, I found it a bit too saccharine for my taste and at the outset, this listen isn’t so different. But then I try a simple experiment: I try to listen to it the way Brandon would listen to it. Don’t ask me how I could have any idea how to do that, but for some reason, it works. Perhaps learning to enjoy new music is like a study in character. Maybe I'm discovering a new part of myself or maybe I'm imitating my perception of others… or maybe those two things are even different. But it works. How the fuck do I chart this now?

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[sp4cetiger]

04/02
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12:30 AM Wednesday

Try to sleep. Fail. I don’t mind being awake at odd hours, it’s just hard to schedule a life with a body that won’t cooperate. Eventually I put on Talking Heads: 77, their debut album. I have a lot to say about the Talking Heads, but most of it isn’t words. I like this one, maybe better than their later stuff. The second half is better than the first.

Next I give a first listen to Squeezing Out Sparks (Graham Parker and The Rumour). It’s rock music… how quaint. My first impression is that he’s a poor man’s Elvis Costello, but by the end, I’m kind of digging it. Maybe I’ll go back to it later.

[sp4cetiger]

4:00 PM Wednesday

I don't get much music in on Wednesday. There's a lot to do and other things just keep coming up. When I get home from work, I'm feeling very apathetic in general, so I figure that's as good a time as any to put on The Wall (Pink Floyd). It's a no-brainer for the 1979 list, even though I've heard it several times before and never liked it. Maybe this time will be different, who knows.

It starts out pretty well… Pink Floyd’s members know their craft and it runs seamlessly, with catchy bits here and there. After a while, though, it’s just too much. The politics, the pageantry, the sneering, the role-playing… a wave of self-satisfaction runs over me, accompanied by adjectives like “pretentious” and “overbearing”. My pretend superiority gives me something to enjoy while an otherwise unpleasant experience blares in the background. There’s no anger, though.

The relationship between negativity and art appreciation hangs on my mind a lot lately. When we express distaste for music, are we subconsciously lashing out at everyone and everything that associates with it? Are we all, deep down, just frothing narcissists who secretly crave to assert our every whim and fancy on the world? I don’t think so. It’s true that I make both positive and negative judgements about all of the music I listen to and it's true that the act of making those judgements has a lot to do with ego... but really, I have doubts about every judgement I make. I could try to steamroll anyone who disagrees with me, but I don't want to leave myself alone on an island of self-satisfaction.

We are social creatures. I express distaste for something not because I want to assert my ego (there are no shortage of other ways to do that), but because I crave mutual understanding. My distaste helps define me, and when someone else comes forward and says, “That’s like me,” it makes me feel good. It's sometimes irrational, but wholly primal. As children, we learn to feel anger before we learn to feel empathy, so it’s tempting to say that we just bury our true self for the sake of others. We are not a layered cake, though. The final product, the adult, is a complex combination of desires, some social and some selfish. When I tell you I dislike The Wall, I don’t do it to build myself up against the fans, I do it to connect with the non-fans.

Bah, music gets me all philosophical sometimes. I’ll stop now. I don't like The Wall, no offense intended to anyone.

[sp4cetiger]

8:30 PM Wednesday

Laundry list time:

Drums and Wires (XTC) - The rising new wave pop bands are exciting, but also disturbing because I know what’s coming. No complaints about XTC, though, they’re plenty fun. First listen, though, so not much more to say yet.

Concierto (Jim Hall) - I’ve been making my way through the Penguin Guide to Jazz core collection of albums (chronologically, of course). The pickings are pretty slim in the ‘70s, but this was a real gem from 1975. It’s an old school cool jazz jam, great for active or passive listening, as need dictates.

The Ramones (The Ramones) - I was first introduced to punk rock back in the ‘90s when a friend leant me the Ramones’ It’s Alive. I remember my reaction vividly -- this is terrible… but I like it for some reason. I’m not sure my feelings about the Ramones have changed all that much over the years, except now I love it. It’s amazing that a record by the Ramones has so much repeat listen value, it really is.

Risque (Chic) - First listen and my second Chic record. My reaction is pretty much the same as to the first: I like it, but it doesn’t jump out at me. Right now I prefer Sister Sledge, but I need to give the Chic records some more time.