me & music

I wonder if you’ll allow me to ramble a bit. I’m a rambling guy.

Once in awhile I’ll watch an episode of American Idol. Watched tonight to see & hear my homeboy, Taylor Hicks, perform Elton John/Bernie Taupin’s “Levon.” I thought it was moving. I thought to myself–A lot of people are in love with the idea of being “a star” or a famous singer or musician. This guy just LOVES MUSIC. Good for him.

Good for me, too. I really love music. I am blessed, I guess, with very eclectic tastes. Wildly eclectic. I don’t like much of the pop music played on the radio and haven’t for many years. I don’t like the slicker variety of country music. But, I’m game for just about anything else. At least for short periods.

Even though I’m always listening to nutty mish-mashes of music, I also tend to get obsessed with a genre for periods. In the 1980s, when the music being made wasn’t doing much for me, I listened obsessively to be-bop and the John Coltrane Quartet, among others. Took seven or eight years to get it out of my system. Now I listen to it and enjoy it, but it’s part of the mix. Same with Irish trad. Listened to tons of it between 1995 and, oh, about 2001, and then not so much.

The other sort of obsessive thing that happens to me is that some particular pieces of music will get absolutely under my skin. I wish I understood music theory enough to figure out what all these might have in common. Some examples: For, oh, 25 years or more I’ve been obsessed (off and on) with Brian Wilson’s song “Surf’s Up.” I’ll listen to it constantly for a few days and then let it go for a year or two, and then have another obsessive round with it. The Bach Goldberg Variations crop up like that with me now and then.

My current obsession, which has a couple of my friends secretly plotting to have me committed, is a CD called “Loveless” by the group My Bloody Valentine. I’ve got it in my MP3 player and I go to sleep listening to it about half the time. It’s an unlikely candidate for my obsessive focus. It’s probably the exemplar of a sub-genre of rock music called “shoegazing.” (The name comes, allegedly, from the typical guitarists of this genre, staring down at his guitar effect pedals while performing.) “Loveless” is, as Brian Eno put it, “the vaguest music to ever have been a hit.”

This CD consists of impossibly beautiful melodies, which are almost buried under blankets of distorted and weirdly engineered guitar sounds. There are vocals and lyrics, but they are almost impossible to decipher in the mix. (No one seems to know what the lyrics are. Fans try to make them out, but all the transcriptions include a lot of question marks in parentheses.) The mix, it is tempting to say, sounds as though the mixing engineer was on PCP. And deaf. But, there’s something captivating about it.

The first time I heard the CD, I just completely dismissed it as so much noise. Then, for some reason, I listened to it a second time and something in me went “wait a minute. What the hell is going on here?” And so, I’ll let you know in a couple of years when I’ve finally able to stop listening to it almost daily.

The CD came out in 1992 and the main guy in My Bloody Valentine, Kevin Shields, sort of went reclusive. He resurfaced to contribute to the “Lost in Translation” soundtrack. That movie prominently features the My Bloody Valetine song, “Sometimes.” That one, in particular is my new “Surf’s Up” for this decade. (For a slightly more accessible example of the band’s work, I recommend the song “Don’t Ask Why” on the EP “Glider.”)

Bye now.

Dale, we seem to have similar musical tastes (and idiosyncrasies), so please allow me to make two suggestions, if you’re not already familiar.

The Milk-Eyed Mender, Joanna Newsom
Picaresque, The Decemberists

The first is odd. I mean, very, very odd. A classically-trained harpist singer-songwriter who’s influenced by both Appalachian and African harping styles and rhythms. On top of all that, she has an odd singing voice. A few of the songs on the album are less than stellar, but most of them are absolute gems. Very spare.

The second is really a suggestion for anything by the Decemberists, but this is my favorite of their albums. (I would be loathe not to mention their Her Majesty EP, though. Probably my favorite of the things they’ve done.) At any rate, they’re wonderful.

I would suggest listening to the 30-second clips on iTunes, should you get a chance. They’re both on there.

As for your music selection, there, I do periodically have a Bach kick, as well as a Pet Sounds kick. I like Monk and Coltrane and Bill Evans and Cannonball Adderly and Miles and whole group.

Thing is, you’ve done a horrible thing to me. You’ve suggested My Bloody Valentine to me, and, against my better judgement, I listened to it (what portion is on the iTunes music store). And it’s… not… entirely horrible? That is to say, I might be able to sit through it? I mean, my stomach should be turning at the very thought of it, but I don’t think I’d mind listening to that album. And that makes me rather scared.

Probably because I’m a snob.

Anyway, curse you. Thank you. Curse you.

Dale, you have a minor problem. As a psycholigist, you are well aware of obsessive-compulsive behavior. I have the same problem, in that I get stuck on certain CD’s. I listen to them over and over.

I fell in love with Alison Krauss, a country fiddle player and singer. For a year or so, I was obsessed with her music. Now, I am listening to Bach, a big difference. Before Alison, it was Paul Robeson, the great American bass. I must have listened to him sing tunes from Showboat one thousand times without ever getting tired of it. But now, opera is once again beginning to creap into my musical awareness. I am checking out performance dates, etc. I guess that when you are obsessive-compulsive, this is pretty much par for the course.

The Queen would say My Music and I.

I thought “queen singular” would be our music and us…?

The confusion here comes from the expression The Royal Wee, which of course takes place in the Throne Room.

Hicks did pretty good. I’m not too wild about the guys this year, the women were more interesting.

The Queen digs My Bloody Valentine. She’s also into The Brian Jonestown Massacre and, even more, the Dandy Warhols.

Dale

Recently I decided it was time I found out what some of the people who were big in the 90s sounded like and I hit on Oasis. As far as I could tell from reviews, they played melodic 60s style pop and had some very good tunes. Derivative, but on all the right people and very listenable; or so the story went. I listened to What’s the Story, Morning Glory.

What a disappointment. I could hear the vaguely 60s-ish melodies to be sure. But, far from being great melodies, they sounded to me like album and B-side Beatles and Kinks rejects. But what really threw me was a constant background of doctored-guitar noise that seemed to play no function but to announce that though this might remind you of 60s music it was really 90s. As far as I could tell, the noise had nothing whatsoever to do with the songs it seemed to be competing with. As for the lyrics, they were beyond moronic.

I’m the kind of guy who’s been accused (here) of being a big fan of noise so I found this experience disturbing. Had I lost my ability to enjoy noise? Well, I put on some Beefheart and some Ayler and some Clash and I still liked them. All noisy, each in its own different way, but the noise made sense. Oasis noise made no sense to me.

It sounds as though this noise is noise that is integral to the music rather than distractingly incidental. Do others react to Oasis as I did or do you think I should give them a few more listens and let them grow on me? Often if you listen to music the first time in the wrong mood you can get what later seems a wildy distorted impression. But somehow I think I’ll continue to get my noise from the Clash and my 60s melody from the Beatles.

Thanks for this thread, Dale. It makes me feel so, well, normal. I recognize all the signs–there were the old-time/bluegrass years, followed by a return to opera, and then a few months of anything on the ECM label, then a deep descent into ITM. And a lot of these were cycling back to previous periods of obsession. Plus the regular returns–60s & 70s Miles, King Crimson, Dylan, Marianne Faithful, Charlie Haden, Dave Holland.

Note that I said signs, not symptoms. We are normal and we want our freedom!

Did I mention how much I like Jan Garbarek lately? Oh, and Lucinda Williams, the new live cd? And…

Wombat,

I don’t think you’d be missing that much if you never listened to Oasis again, even though I have a couple of their albums.

You could try some of the other one-word-name bands, such as Pulp or Blur. Travis were good but lyrics a bit depressing in many songs. Prodigy of course were very loud.

Try out Kula Shaker sometime. Imagine Oasis after the band has
been trapped in India for several years and converted to Hinduism.

Martin, please. “One’s music and one.”

Steve