Synchronicity

It's thunder/and it's lightening/and it's all things/too frightening/I could barely see outside

Just as this We Were Promised Jetpacks song began to play, and those lyrics were sung, outside was thunder, lightening--all things too frightening.  I can barely see outside.  

Ok.  The frightening stuff is my own school angst, but that's nobody's fault but my own. (Someone should write a song with that line, "nobody's fault but my own".  O.  Wait.  Someone did.)  

Talk about Pop Music

The EMP Pop Conference was this weekend--technically, it continues through tomorrow--and I was able to spend the WHOLE day attending various panel discussions, today; wish I could have done so on Friday, too.  But I did get to hear the key note speaker, Nona Hendryx, on Thursday night.  Tomorrow, well, tomorrow I just can't make it.

Last year was the first year I had the pleasure to attend--also for only one day.  As long as I am living in Seattle, and the Pop Conference happens and it's free (yes, it is FREE!!!), I'll be getting my music egg-head fix.  Admittedly, I don't understand a lot of what is being referred to, or the inside jokes among the music scholars, critics and various members of academia who attend.  But I don't care.  I love it.  I jot down names of writers that I will look into, musicians, songs, albums... My head buzzes with new ideas and excitement about music.  I got to speak to Charles Cross for a brief moment to gush about how helpful his book, Cobain Unseen has been as I write a final paper for my Archives Admin. class on Cobain's published journals, If You Read This You Will Judge.  I'd had some questions about dates and truth, etc. while reading the journals (which are really about an nth of what he actually wrote) and Cross' book was incredibly helpful in clearing up a lot of those questions.  So, I thanked him.  He was very nice and confirmed some of the other suspicions that I had surrounding the publishing of this bit of his journals.  I plan on reading his biography on Cobain this summer to round out my Cobain focus.  Which, when I think about it, is kind of funny for me to have.  I mean, I like Nirvana.  I have liked them more as the years have progressed and I've listened more closely; but they are not my end all be all favorite.  And Cobain's sad, frustrating and destructive life (what I know of it, which is as much as anyone who didn't know him does--that is to say, what the media has given us and what Kurt, himself, wanted us to believe about him) is painful to contemplate.  Not because I feel so personally hurt by his decision to end his life, not because I feel sorry for him, but because wasted lives are really, really, really sad.  Sorry.  Can't come up with anything well-crafted for that.  It's just sad.  Ian Curtis.  Sad.  Elliot Smith.  Sad.  And they were all sad, in their own ways, and self-destructive, in their own ways, and supremely talented.  So I, like many, shake my head and think, "what a waste" while at the same time thinking, "how could they be so dumb?"  I know it is not that simple.  But I don't know them.  Didn't know them.  Won't ever.  Not really.

But I digress, as I am wont to do... By the end of today, I was having a hard time keeping my eyes open, which had something to do with the dim lighting of the space where the last panel was presenting mixed with my usual 6 hours of sleep (that many?) the night before and a healthy dose of an interesting, yet lacking in vocal variety/energy speaker.  It's a good thing the Seattle grey, cool and damp that I know and love was waiting for me outside to wake me up a bit.  

Today was also national record store day.  Did you visit your local shop?  I hopped on over to the nearest Easy Street (not my local store, but it would be if I lived on Queen Anne) purchased Nevermind because my version is scratched and rendering it unlistenable--it wouldn't do to write this paper without my Nirvana catalogue in tip top form--as well as a Smith's single on 45.  Re-issued, I believe, by Rhino.  ("The Headmaster's Ritual" and "Oscilliate Wildly").  

While in New York I participated in the following activities:

1. Visited with many friends but did not have nearly enough time with them: Niamh and her brother John; Matt and Diana (she was also visiting); Michael, Calvin and Vivian; Jenara, Mitch and Alafair; Ali.

2. Enjoyed the Neue Galerie, Japan Society, Metropolitan Museum of Art, three small galleries in Chelsea featuring Ellsworth Kelly pieces (large paintings in two and small drawings in one), the Chelsea Art Museum, a couple of other random galleries in Chelsea showing artists that I don't know but would like to except I didn't make any notes and I can't remember any names.

3. Ate.  A lot.

4. Walked.  A lot.

5. Rode the subway.

6. Saw Moises Kaufmann's new play, 33 Variations.  The best elements were the Eugene O'Neil Theatre (gorgeous and the perfect size) the set, lighting, pianist, Jane Fonda and the company (Ali).  The script was eh.

7.  Did I mention that I ate?  A lot.

8.  Drank many cups of marginal coffee in the form of lattes, americanos and regualr ole' joe. 

9.  Drank a few really good cups of coffee.  

10.  Avoided the St. Patrick's Day Parade but not the drunk crowds which bore a striking resemblance to frat boys and sorority girls.  And some people way too old to be that drunk and that green at 11am on a Tuesday.

11.  Wrote a short literature review for class that required a minimum of 15 cited articles as well as working on another essay for a different class.

12.  Shopped.  A little.

13.  Spent money.  A lot.  

14.  Loved being there.  A lot.

Huge, fat, white flakes are drifting--make that dumping, now.. no, wait, driftinnnnnnnng...--anyway, it's snowing.  Pretty.  But I'm over it now that we're into March.  

Two things:  

1. Adam, you're future jokes are great!  How did you do that?  Teach me.  Please.

2. I saw the most amazing production of Schoenberg's Ewartung on a double bill with Bartok's Bluebeard's Castle at the Seattle Opera, last night.  The soprano who sang The Woman was not only a beautiful, gorgeous, pitch perfect, expressive singer, but she could act, too!  Really.   A-maze-ing production.  Amazing.  This was originally directed by Robert LePage, in 1993, and I can't believe how lucky I was to get to see it.  Expressionistic, Freudian, Magritte-like images.  Dancers crawling out of walls, sideways.  Like watching a stark, frightening and beautiful dream.  Bluebeard's was also wonderful, (minor point: despite the thunderous, yummy voice, Bluebeard was a bit stiff, physically.  Luckily there was so much to take in visually and musically that I could easily let that go.)  The best, most magical staging took place near the end as his three wives rise from a pool of water, as if they were on some kind of hydraulics that lifted them straight up, dripping and red with the trains of their dresses trailing behind them like viscous pools of blood.  (Only the trick is that it's wasn't deep, and they had to swim horizontally until they reached the spot where they could rise.  Which they did with such seamless grace and foreboding.) I wish everyone could have seen it.

Future Jokes

Hey!  It's just after midnight and I should be in bed, but I'm all amped up because I think that I found a topic for the literature review that I have to write for my Indexing and Abstracting class. Indexing music terms--genres, moods, titles, lyrics... sounds good, huh?  O, yeah, baby.  

On another note, I was just laughing to myself about some jokes I heard last Saturday.  I'd gone to the French Kicks show, solo, as is my wont.  Ran into a friend who was with some of his friends.  Afterwards (gosh this is taking a while to get to the point...) friend that I knew and one of his friends--the one who was visiting from Vancouver, BC,--went to Linda's for a drink where these two funny gentlemen proceeded to introduce me to the world of future jokes.  Yes, you read that correctly.  Future Jokes.  Basically taking the format of any past or present joke--guy walks into a bar, etc.--and peppering it with made up sci-fi sounding words.  I sense that I am not able to convey the hilarity of the situation.  That's alright, you'll just have to take my word for it.  Once they started telling these jokes, I became obsessed--in between cracking up at this new genre of humor--with contributing my own future joke.  But of course, I came up with nada.  I have a hard enough time telling present jokes.  Worse, I haven't stopped thinking about how to compose a really hi-lar-ee-us future joke of my own to slay 'em with next time we should meet.  sigh.  

  

3 in a row

I'm stuck on an Iron and Wine, M. Ward, Andrew Bird, Rocky Votolato, Pela and The National heavy rotation.  This, despite the excitement of my tiny vinyl collection, has been going on for a few months now.  I try to break it up, but I keep going back to the same dozen, or so, albums and eps.  Even as I press play on my ipod, or itunes, or cd player, I think "I must be tired of listening to these guys"; and I kind of am in that I want to want to feel a desire to listen to something else.  But I don't, so I don't.  Must be the weather...

I bought a record player at the end of January.  I'd been wanting one for quite some time and took advantage of the money coming in from my temporarily permanent temp job to purchase this fine, vintage, all-in-one Rheem Califone music listening device.  I'd forgotten what it was like to listen to a record.  It takes a bit more patience--you have to flip it over, after all--a bit more attention.  My speaker is pretty durn good, but it's not the best, and still... IT'S TRUE WHAT ALL THOSE CRAZY AUDIOPHILES SAY ABOUT VINYL!!!!  I love it.  (The Walkmen's You & Me album was my first vinyl purchase.  I bought it at the show.  Very good show, by the way.  One of their best that I've had the pleasure of seeing.)  Mostly I've been buying used records and have only had a couple of "Darn.  That song is scratched," moments.  I figure if I'm paying a few bucks--like $1-3--for an album and there's one scratch, it's o.k.  One of my favorite finds was nos. 2 and 3 of Bach's unaccompanied cello suites.  Released in the late 60's.  (or early 70's?  I'm too lazy to get up and look.)  If you thought that those cello pieces warmly resonated in your bones on a cd, give yourself a treat and listen via the old analog method.  Whoa.  I get it.  I do.  It sounds like someone is playing the cello inside my apartment, inside of me.  Another great find?  (thank you , Shawn, for this treasured discovery) One Voice.  Barry Manilow.  The very first album I ever got that was mine and mine alone.  (Christmas, 1979.)  Ask my mom how much I loved that record.  When I told her of this gem, she inquired if I'd gotten out the vacuum cleaner.  har, har.  She is referring to my childhood microphone.  My vinyl purchases tend towards classical, albums I remember that my parents had, bands that I really, really love--I'm on a mission to find all of the U2 catalog from Joshua Tree on down--and quirky 78s.  I'm in no hurry.  So, if you are out and about and you see something that you think I might like, and it isn't very expensive or scratched, feel free to purchase it for me.  You can come over and we can lay on some pillows while we listen to the textured sounds of the vinyl experience.

a list

it feels kind of strange to be composing an entry.  my sister-in-law asked me when i was going to post something again and i replied, wistfully, probably not until summer.  but then, i'm sitting on the couch version of my futon, half reading an article for my archives administration class and i'm absolutely not paying attention--even though it's interesting--and it pops into my head that i miss my blog.  really.  i do.  i miss a lot of things, right now.  shawn.  video games.  reading that doesn't involve answering questions based on the aforementioned reading.  listening to music while doing nothing else.  practicing the guitar.  waking up after the sun comes up.  going to bed late because want to, not because i'm doing school work.  putzing around the 525 square feet i call home.  a quiet neighbor below me--one not aspiring to be the next zach condon.  (i like the musical stylings of condon.  of condon.)  going for a run on a regular/semi-regular basis.  doing one crossword puzzle after another after another after another.  watching an entire season of a television series in one sitting.  eyes sans dark circles.  eating a pint of ice cream with no repercussions.  

A girl walks into a bar...

I found Sarah Combs.  

My street smells like hot dogs...

This is weird.  And true.  The cool breeze blowing in through the windows in my little home is bringing with it the smell of hot dogs.  Not sausages, not kielbasa, hot dogs.  Like convenience store hot dogs.  It's been like this for at least the last hour.  

The second round of the U. S. Open semi-finals are on: Nadal v. Murray.  Because of pending storms on the East Coast, the planes have been rerouted and, like in the old days of the U.S. Open, they fly overhead every minute or so.  Kind of funny, because I'd forgotten that used to happen.  (My mother has loved watching tennis for as long as I can remember and therefore I saw many grand slams played in my yute.)  

Random thoughts day, I guess.  No music postings, I'm afraid.  I've got some school work to focus on, and some tennis to watch.  I like to think of it as doing something with my mom, even though it's not physically together.  Keeping up with her interests, and all.  

By the way, just say "no" to instant replay in baseball.

No Music Here...

That's not true.  There is plenty of music, just not being listened to in a way that lends itself to an iTunes music post.  Too busy for that, right now.  Hey.  This is my blog and if I want to have an entry that isn't about a specific album then that is my right.  Right?  Right.  

So I've been in Long Beach, CA, visiting Shawn for the past two weeks.  It's been sunny.   It's been warm.  It's been fun.  Here is a list of some of the entertaining adventures we've had:

We saw Radiohead in Chula Vista.  Wow.  Wow.  Wow.  I don't know of any other band that is worth seeing in such a venue.  (HUGE.  Annoying.  Potentially a nightmare to leave, traffic-wise, though we lucked out, somehow, and were just fine.  Unlike when we saw them at a similar venue in Washington 4 or so years ago.  We waited in the parking lot for close to two hours before we were able to get in line to slowly leave.  Miserable.)  Gorgeous all around show.  And we didn't have to resort to buying the $5 water or $7 pizza slices, either.  

We have gone to the beach.  Shawn surfed in San Diego, where we spent a couple of days since we were seeing the Radiohead show out there, anyway.  I watched and tried to figure out which bobbing head was his.

We saw a fabulous documentary, Man on Wire.  Go see it if you get the chance.  Quite enthralling even if you are familiar with the story and know the outcome.  It's like watching a thriller unfold.

We went to LACMA.  We went to the Getty.  Art is cool.  

We have eaten food.  Food is good.

I have read several books.  Reading rocks.

We have drunk coffee.  Coffee is manna.

I bought The Gaslight Anthem's new CD.  This band is fantastic and all should hear them.

We bought tickets to Mexico, in October, for our friends' wedding.  Get some, 2008!

We have four more days of who knows what before I go back to Seattle, where it has apparently been raining since I left.  

Black Celebration

Black Celebration-Depeche Mode

Released: March 17, 1986

Mute (UK)/Sire Records (US)

How much do I love this album?  A lot.  Nostalgia reigns supreme when I listen to Black Celebration.  What happens when I hear it?  I remember being blown away with how profound I thought this band was.  How much deeper and relevant than the bubblegum pop of the top 40 charts it was.  Beginning to notice that the British pop charts were better than the US and looking to the Brits to guide me in my music development.  (Golly, they're so lucky.  They have bands like Depeche Mode and The Smiths and we've got Tiffany and Debbie Gibson.)  How this album resonated in my young teenage soul.  These weren't songs that I heard on the radio, by golly.  They were too good for that.  Sure, others knew "People are People", but did anyone know "New Dress"?  No!  Just my friends and me at TSFY!!!!  (One of those friends made a tape of the album for me, which was how I was able to listen to it in the first place.  THANK YOU, WAYNE!!!!!)  Sitting in Miyo Sakashita's bedroom, listening to the very dark (and sexy) lyrics and thinking we were so deep, too.  Exploring the justifications for a God who could allow such horrible things to happen in our world.  Love.  Will anyone ever love me?  Why doesn't Justin see how much I love him and love me back?  You know.  Stuff like that.  Oh yes, profound, my friends.  Absolutely.  

And I still think this is a great album.  For Depeche Mode, fondly dubbed Depressed Mods-- either by me or someone else and I just thought it was me-- this one might just be my favorite.  Oh sure, Catching Up is great fun because it comprises the hits from the first 5 years, but Black Celebration wasn't a hit.  Not then.  It wasn't the same as the others and it is black, my friends.  Bleak, black, dark... a downer you can dance to.  Wonderful stuff.  And, despite one of my favorite songs feeling stuck on at the end and therefore seeming very out of place, it still delivers a very cohesive start to finish journey.  ("But Not Tonight" was, indeed, stuck on at the end for the US release.  It's not on the UK album.)  The choice to end one song and begin the next, almost seamlessly, carrying you from one to the next without interruption creates a very cool effect and, according to something I read, was kind of a new trick back in the mid-80's.  Very melodic and Martin Gore and David Gahan both have solid vocals, never overtaken by the instruments.  They're clear and strong.  And you can sing along real nice.  It's fun that somewhere in the back of my brain I have retained the lyrics.  I bought this CD, I don't know, 8 years ago?  And I still knew all the words.  Maybe they're not as profound, but they're still interesting and relevant.  Not much has changed in the world.  Ugly destruction and greed continues to drive governments, we're still fed lines of crap about how it's all getting better.  And by golly we love to know what our celebrities are up to!  (Or, another interpretation would be that the world's going to pot and Laura Bush just bought an SUV.)

Jet airliner shot from sky

Famine horror, millions die

Earthquake terror figures rise

Princess Di is wearing a new dress

You can't change the world

But you can change the facts

And when you change the facts

You change points of view

If you change points of view

You may change the a vote

And when you change a vote

You may change the world

In black townships fires blaze

Prospects better premier says

Within sight are golden days

Princess Di is wearing a new dress

I mean, really, has anything changed that much?  

(the best of) New Order (US Version)

(the best of) New Order-New Order

Released: March, 1995 (US Version)

Qwest

I've been searching on the internet for information related to this album, and it's been fascinating.  Originally released in 1994, in the UK, the track listing is a bit different; but on iTunes, it's different than either the UK or the US releases.  Less tracks and some that aren't on either of the other CDs.  Weird.  Anyway, I have learned a heck of a lot more about New Order than I knew before--which was minimum, though I've liked them for eons, now--and have had moments of "ooooo....well that explains that".  The US version of this compilation features singles and tracks from albums released 1981 through 1993, including new versions/remixes of some.  It's, aside from one or two tracks, a great listen and showcases the evolution of New Order from Joy Division.  My favorite New Order song, "Ceremony", is not included on this album--it was written during the days of Joy Division (Ian Curtis penned the lyrics)--nor are a few of my other favs, but they are on Substance and so it's not as though I don't ever get to listen to them.  Favorites that are on this album are "Age of Consent", "Dreams Never End", "Regret" and "Bizarre Love Triangle".  

"Regret" sounds like older N. O. and isn't.  Originally released in 1993, on the album Republic, it carries this full band sound, so Modern Rock, which by this time was called "alternative", I guess.  I love the guitar, it's rather anthem-like and contrasts with the keyboard electronica so well.  It rides along with the melody during the chorus, boosting the gorgeousness of the song.  Though I like the electronica of "Blue Monday" and the songs that go along with that (Many which are not on this comp.), I do prefer the tunes that include the live instruments and have a, to my ears, distinctly modern music sound.  The songs that we danced to at The Blitz back in high school... "Age of Consent" and the like.  We think we are so unconventional, so wise in our music likes, so different and, I'll say it, superior to all those top 40 and hair band kids.  We know the real depth and talent of musicians and bands.  We have the sophisticated taste.  Good grief, pretentious much?  Well, is it any different now?  Really?  Sure, I have a better appreciation of genres I may have scoffed at in jr. high and high school.  I'm more ready to admit to liking sugary pop songs that aren't necessarily good, but they make me smile.  (Though I have never, and I never will back down from loving Barry Manilow, so don't even try to mock me on that.  It won't work.)  But I still like music that isn't on the top 40 charts (unless it's a fluke) or the commercial "alternative" stations.  I listen to the indie pop, primarily, and believe myself to like better music than the conventional stuff most people hear.  Things haven't changed that much.  Though, I like to think of myself as not getting on the "oh, well, now they've sold out so I don't like them anymore" complainer wagon.  Rather, I am happy they get to make a living as artists and hope they continue to put out great records.  If not, well then I can listen to the older stuff and remember when...

ANYWAY that's all blah blah blah which I'm sure I've already blahed about on this blog.  Boring.

I'm not a big fan of "1963", it's cheesy.  Narrative lyrics, verse, chorus, verse structure, which isn't a bad thing.  I like songs written in that way, however, I find it very Movie of the Week/After School Special.  The tune's fine, but nothing that grabs me and makes my musical heartstrings sing and get all fluttery.  Maybe if they'd chosen a name other than Johnny?  I dont' know, it's just cheese to me.  Apparently, the band had wanted to release it as the single with "True Faith" the B-side, but the smarty pants execs suggested swapping the two.  Well, "True Faith" was a HUGE hit so I guess it was a good move.  Remember the video?  Wow.  That was a cool one.  I think that was the year we got cable so I actually got to watch Mtv and they showed that in regular rotation, not just on 120 Minutes.  I can also do without the UK World Cup football (soccer) team's theme song, "World in Motion".  Call it the "Super Bowl Shuffle" of it's sport.  Eh.  I could do without that one, too.  (My oldest sister, Gina, she bought that single.  I think she was in love with Jim McMahon.)

They wanted to get away from the Joy Division, post-punk sound and they succeeded.  It's great to hear that growth, and I'm glad that it wasn't gone, entirely, since some of my New Order favorites carry that with them.  But "Fine Time"--come on!  Bleeting sheep at the end?  Very cool--and "Blue Monday" are wonderful examples of the handle they had on dance music, and those tunes are six years apart.  I think they are innovative and are also probably why I associate techno with the Brits.  (Well, I'm sure I was told that's where the dance beat came from, but N. O. is one of a few bands that I can name who I like and listened to on a regular basis.)  Good job, guys!

The Best of The Songbooks (Discs 2 & 3)

The Best of the Songbooks (Discs 2 & 3)-Ella Fitzgerald

Released: Polygram

September 24, 1996

Remiss I have been in my entries... and I have nothing to say except I was busy reading.  Now, as the summer marks it's half way point (for me, anyway) I find that I actually have to WORK for two weeks before heading down to Southern Cal to visit Shawn.  I mean, what kind of nonsense is this (she says with a wink and a smile)?!  Phew!  Temp work rocks!

So, let's get to it.  We'll finish up with Ella--though she'll be back, I can assure you--and move forward to some New Order.  Later.  Tomorrow.  Probably.

Discs 2 & 3 of the box set have titles: "Love Songs" and "Ballads", not in that order.  What I find amusing about the grouping of love songs, is that they are all love songs.  Were any popular tunes written in the hey day of dinner and dancing not?  Most likely, but it seems that the majority that play on the perpetual juke box of nostalgia are, indeed, about some kind of love.  Happy love.  Sad love.  Mad love.  Silly love.  Old love, new love, every love but true love...  I love it.  We should have more dinner and dancing in this world.  The real kind.  The kind where it's not for a lark and wouldn't it be fun if we got all dressed up like in the old days and pay for a steak dinner, some low lights and some dancing?  But for real.  A regular night on the town.  Wonder what happened?  I'm sure there are books about it, describing the rise and fall of the dining dancers.  We're too busy.  We're too lazy.  We're too strapped for cash.  High heels were shunned.  (though they came back, left came back and now are back and with a vengeance...)  Was it disco?  

Well, if we all listened to Ella (Or Chet, or Dinah, or Etta, or Billie, or Sarah) we'd all be inspired to head out and trip the light fantastic with our lover, cheek to cheek and humming love songs into each others ear/shoulder/hair--where ever you happen to reach when dancing with said lover/date/stranger/friend.  I'd definitely have to be wearing heels to reach Shawn's cheek.  

The Best of the Songbooks (Disc 1)

The Best of the Songbooks (Disc 1)-Ella Fitzgerald

Released: September 24, 1996

Polygram Records

(Now, this is strange... these songs were recorded when Ella was with Verve Records, recorded in the 50's and 60's, primarily; and here the box set is attributed to Polygram... well, not really that important, just something to note.  Moving on...)

Sometime when I was a freshman in high school, my boyfriend, John Moreau, and I fell in love with Ella Fitzgerald.  Maybe he was already enamored with her and he passed it along to me.  Or maybe we discovered her at the same time.  Doesn't signify.  The point is that we loved her.  Did it happen after my mom gave me The Cole Porter Songbook, full of his tunes that I could plunk out on the piano and sing to, because she knew how much I adored Kiss Me Kate?  Or did that happen after the Ella infatuation?  Perhaps it was after buying Red Hot and Blue, a tribute album to Porter with songs sung by the likes of David Byrne, Sinead O'Connor, Iggy Pop and Debbie Harry, whose proceeds went to HIV/AIDS funding?  (That's a fabulous record, by the by.  Annie Lennox's version of "Ev'ry Time We Say Goodbye" just broke my heart.)  How, when and where is less important than that it happened at all.  No one sings like Ella Fitzgerald.   No one sounds like her.  Her catalog is immense, but the songbooks are my favorite.  The ones dedicated to Cole Porter are my all time favorite, but I'd be happy listening to her sing anything.

I just read that she has a three octave range.  Wow.  I knew it was big, but wow.  Three octaves.  That explains a lot, don't you think?  Isn't the average 2 1/2?  I particularly love her "Miss Otis Regrets" because she brings a true sense of regret and sadness to the song.  I sympathize with Miss Otis, feeling awfully sorry for the poor, wronged woman.  I also read that this was a favorite for many and she often sang this song during her encores.  That darn mob, they should have had more sympathy for her.  How moved she is by Miss Otis' plight.  

With these songs--"standards" I think they call them nowadays--fans have their favorite singers and renditions.  Trying to describe why one is better than another isn't the point of this entry, nor do I feel like I could do so.  I don't have a bunch of versions, I have a few.  I enjoy most of those singers--the old fashioned ones, primarily-- who sang the cannon of great American songwriters of the early part of the first half of the 20th century.  But Ella's voice is velvet and silk.  Her take on the songs is unique and completely intuitive.  I am not an authority; I can't say how much of the arrangements are hers versus the band leader's, but I bet she's very influential.  Listening to her is summer.  It's cocktails and hors d'oeuvres.  Dancing with your love, or falling in love with someone new.  Drifting along on her smooth vocals, you don't even have to be doing anything at all.  Not a thing.  Humming along, swaying a little... whatever makes you feel good.  

Beneath the Country Underdog

Beneath the Country Underdog-Kelly Hogan and the Pine Valley Cosmonauts

Released: April 4, 2000

Bloodshot Records

The first time I listened to this album I thought that many of the songs sounded familiar, but I just couldn't put my finger on where I might have heard them originally.  Except one song.  The song that made me want to borrow the album from the library years ago.  (I don't know why I never looked at the liner notes...) Hogan covers "Papa Was a Rodeo", by Stephen Merritt; the original can be found on one of the greatest albums made at the end of the 20th century, 69 Love Songs.  After much searching around the internet, today, I was able to confirm that all but four songs were written for this album, three by Hogan and guitarist Andy Hopkins, and one by guitarist John Langford.  The best songs are the covers.  

Of the new songs, Langford's is, to my ears, preferable to the other three.  I wanted to like "Crackers Rule" because I liked the tune, and have chuckled trying to figure out what "practicing drunkard's etiquette" could possibly look like.  Many ideas have crossed my mind, all of them ridiculous in a silly way.  But I lose my like at the title and at the refrain "Crackers rule this place, where we hide.  Suckers long for yesterday, just let this day be mine."  Maybe it's a Georgian thing?  Maybe I'm a stick in the mud too proper for my own good gal?  Her slavish devotion to this drunk, depressingly pathetic lover is a bit much for me, as well.  

Enough about that.  What I do like are Hogan's vocals.  They are clean, solid and can be very pretty.  Her versions of "Easy Loving" and "Whispering Pines" (by Freddie Hart and The Band, respectively) show a strength for phrasing and connection to the material.  Her voice slides neatly on a note, lingering for effect when appropriate.  Sort of like the slide guitar (or is it a lap steele?) and the fiddle playing in the background of "Easy Loving".  This in contrast to letting go on "Wild Mountain Berries" (Conway Twitty and Loretta Lynn sang this one).  It's cheesy, but fun.  Frolicsome and cute.  Pitchfork called it campy and not in a flattering way.  Sure it's silly, big deal.  Cheese can be very appropriate sometimes.  I like that she lets loose a little more on this song, too.  Growls, yips and whoops it up.  There is still control, however.  And maybe that's why I'm not super wild for Kelly Hogan and she'll just be a singer that I like enough to listen to but I doubt I'll crave her album.  For me, she is missing an edge, which I think is partly what separates her from the likes of Neko Case.  

I don't know much more about the Pine Valley Cosmonauts than I do Hogan, and I'm afraid I haven't much to say about their presence on this album.  They play perfectly nicely, as far as I can tell, but there isn't anything about them that makes me stand up and take notice.  I listen to this album because I like Hogan's singing and her take on the covers.  This may say a lot more about the Cosmonauts talents as a backing band, as they meld well with the singer and it's all one enjoyable sound.  Plenty pleasant to listen to but doesn't leave me with a need to listen to over and over again.  That's a funny side affect of this project.  When I listen to something that I love, it's so easy to sit through it at home, and then on my iPod as I walk around town doing whatever it is that I do.  With a few albums, so far (I'm sooooooooooooooooooooooo barely scratching the surface...) I've been reluctant to get through them.  The first time I tried to listen to Beneath the Country Underdog the day after I got back from Idaho, last week.  I was going to Trader Joe's and Madison Market, which is a lot of time round trip on foot, plenty of time to hear it through a couple of times.  I started it, I thought: Ok.  That's right, this is a fun album.  But by the time I got home I really couldn't imagine listening again, and I put in Pet Sounds for about 18 rotations.  I was excited about that one and I couldn't get enough for three days.  What is it, what is it, what is it?  That thing that makes something so much better than something else?  

Ben Folds Live

Ben Folds Live-Ben Folds

Released: October 8, 2002

Sony

The only song that I knew by the band Ben Folds Five was "Brick".  When I acquired this album, it was because I liked that song and I thought maybe there would be some more that I could like, too.  Of course, he ditched the other folks that had made up the five, so on this he's just Ben Folds.  I don't know the story of where they went, and I'm sure I'll find out from Wikipedia, at some point. 

A man and a piano.  And an audience, or two, or three.  I still like "Brick", and it doesn't really sound any different on this live album than I remember it sounding when I heard it on the radio.  Nowadays, when it pops up on shuffle, or I've put it on my singable songs playlist, I think of riding around in my mom's car on visits to Idaho.  Maybe it was only one visit, hardly matters.  In my memory, there are four of us in the car--Dana, Paige, my mom and me.  We're listening to the radio station out of Sun Valley with it's mix between commercial "alternative" music and a smattering of not so commercial bands, like Built to Spill and Death Cab.  (This is before Death Cab was playing Key Arena and huge amphitheatres, and still playing places like the Showbox...)  Anyway, in this memory, it is also wintry outside.  We're probably driving Paige to a school activity, or something.  I like this memory.  Even if it's not exactly accurate. I'll take it.  The other thing I like about this song is that I think Folds has done an admirable job capturing an experience that I haven't had, and giving it emotion, texture.  It's so grey.  It brings to mind grey weather, grey washes over the song right down to the nature of the actions taken in the song.  Nothing is clear or easy or finite.  It's all grey... (Of course, the Pitchfork review had a good negative point about this song, which was that the high school girlfriend who he'd gotten pregnant and had the abortion probably doesn't appreciate being immortalized as a "brick"... touche and now I feel kinda bad for liking the song.  Except that I'd had another interpretation of the term.  That she was a lot tougher than he was.  Laugh at my naivete if you wish...)

I could be happy to only ever listen to this song on the album, except that it's kind of fun, in general.  It's pop.  Good 'ole, sing-a-long pop.  I read on iTunes that that particular reviewer didn't feel that this album added anything to any of the songs recorded in the studio.  Rather, he missed the rhythm section and the harmonies that Folds created with additional band mates.  Well, not having ever heard any of those, this one works for me.  I don't feel a need to buy anymore Folds, solo or otherwise, as Ben Folds Live is plenty of Folds for me.  This live album definitely showcases a talented pianist with a decent singing voice and acceptable lyricist.  I can't help but picture frat boys and sorority girls fawning over him, though.  Some of his songs possess a youthful exuberance that are a little too collegiate for me to really cross the threshold between good and great.  (I'm not sure what I mean by that, but it makes sense somewhere in my critical brain.)  Friends climbing up trees while tripping on acid and finding god.  Buddies who can't let college go once they've gone, (we all know someone like that, sigh... and I like that song, too, "Silver Street", it's called.)  Unwanted teen pregnancy.  Dude, I love yous.  I'm oversimplifying to make a point.  He never says "Dude, I love you."  But I wouldn't be surprised if he had in "The Luckiest", my least favorite song on the album.  It's just too cheesy--perfect for the overly ernest youth falling in love--maybe he is trying to capture that?  Hard to say.  Well, at least he's more amusing than schmaltzy. 

"Tiny Dancer" is a great cover, though.  I will give him that.  He does nothing to it but sing it and sing it straight.  Yeah, yeah, yeah... after Almost Famous it was hard to ever hear that song, again.  But it's nice to hear a sweet version.  Suits him well.  

Well, my loyal readership... I'm headed to Idaho, tomorrow.  This means that I'll be taking a little break from my project.  Sorry.  I know you are all VERY disappointed.  But since two or three of the five people that read this are going to be enjoying my company, I think I'll be forgiven.  Take this opportunity to explore your own cd/record/tape/iTunes collection.

Being There (Disc 2)

Being There-Wilco (Disc 2)

Released: Oct. 20, 1996

Reprise Records

Funny thing about setting myself a goal, or task, of sorts.  This iTunes album by album thing.  Yesterday, I didn't have a chance to listen to disc 2 of Being There, and I felt guilty.  I felt like I'd forgotten to do something important, like turn off the iron, or brush my teeth.  Today, another day of activities--yoga, interminably long bus out to Ballard to meet a friend, hang out with said friend, come home in the late evening--I had a restless need to just sit on my couch/futon and put on the record.  I was going to let myself down if I didn't get this listening party for one completed, tonight.  This is not the kind of personal pressure I need.  I'm on VACATION!!!!!

Disc 2.  Not as good as disc 1.  I like some of the songs and I could do without others.  Begins well enough, and then just sort of peters out... 

The second version of "Outta Mind (Outta Sight) starts out like the "Sesame Street" song, in a way.  It's not the exact same notes, but the rhythm and count is very close.  I like this version, too.  It's very jaunty, fun; the tempo has been straightened out a bit.  The sentiments are neither jaunty nor fun, not in the literal sense.  (Maybe they are for the guy who's getting over the girl, though.  A bit tongue and cheek, perhaps?)  "I know you don't love me.  I know you don't love me anymore, alright."  Well, whataya gonna do?  My favorite song on this 2nd disc is "Someone Else's Song".  Right combination of melancholy longing, tender melody, pretty guitar and great sound on the vocals--an echo, as if he's using one of those old crooner mics.  You know the ones, right?  They're very 1940's/50's; a singer can seductively cup his/her hand around it or do tricks with the base while swinging the whole thing around.  After that song, which is the fourth track, I lose interest.  I'm not a big fan of The Grateful Dead (who am I kidding?  I'm not a fan at all.), and while I was listening to the rest of the album, with the exception of one song, that's who I was thinking of.  Honestly, I couldn't say the remaining songs sounded anything like The Dead, but that's what got in my head.  I did like "The Lonely 1".  Again, it's got that melancholy thing going for it and Tweedy's vocals are wistful and a bit strained on the high notes, something sweet about that sound.  I like the narrative structure of the lyrics as well as what I get from them.  Public v. Private self.  

It's not like I'm not going to delete the songs from my computer, or anything.  If I decided to have a Wilco day and listen to all of the albums I have of theirs (well, aside from this, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot and a live album, that's it) I wouldn't skip over these four or five songs.  However, if I was just sitting at my computer with shuffle going on, I'd skip 'em if they came up.  The review I read on Pitchfork wondered why they didn't just put out a single disc record and leave off some of the songs.  Wonder if he was thinking of the same songs I am....

Being There (Disc 1)

Being There (Disc 1)-Wilco

Released: Oct. 20, 1996

Reprise Records

Today is the longest day of the year.  It got dark in Seattle around 10pm, as my friend, Marcus, and I were ending a walk we took, tonight, as we both had nothing in particular to do and live so close to each other.  O.  And it was SUPER nice out.  A really lovely, long walk that took us through posh Capitol Hill nooks and crannies.  It really was a great way to welcome the onset of summer.  Marcus offered three questions for me to put on my blog, prior to talking about this album and here they are:

1. People still litter?  Who does that?!  (Because we saw litter on our walk and were really incredulous that there are people in this world who still think this is ok.)

2. Who uses styrofoam anymore?!  (Because he was telling me about being at some place where they actually served him a drink in styrofoam.)

3. What guy thinks a lone female in a desolate area is actually going to go over to his car and "give him directions"?!  (Because I related a story where this happened to me and my response was an indignant "no" as I continued the run I was on, but at a much faster pace until I was safely ensconced by apartment buildings and houses, again.)

Summer.  Wilco.  Being There.  A double album and sold at the price of a one disc album.  According to Wikipedia, this was an agreement made between Jeff Tweedy--lead singer and song writer--and Reprise records.  Today I listened to only the first disc, and it seemed really appropriate for the weather and the time of year.  It sounds like a good summer album, perfect for sitting out on your deck--if you are so fortunate as to have one--drinking a nice cold beer, or other cold beverage of your choice.  I layed on my couch/futon and imagined that I had a deck.  I did not drink a beer, though, I suppose I could have.  

I don't know where to put Wilco.  They're rock 'n roll.  They're alt country-ish.  Songs on this album, in particular, bring to mind The Rolling Stones, John Cougar Mellencamp (or John Mellencamp, or John Cougar, whatever he's going by these days...) and even a hint of The Replacements.    Also some good ole' honky tonk twangin'.  They are their own genre, in many ways.  I'd used the term "roots rock" in my journal, today, wondering if that is where they'd be classified and the original review on Pitchfork used the same term.  What, exactly, does that mean?  American roots rock?  Anyway, I think this band is well worth a listen and this album has many singable tunes.  I'll tell you now that Yankee Hotel Foxtrot is, by far, my favorite Wilco release... but those "Y"s ain't coming for a loooooooooong time.  

"Misunderstood", the first track, starts out with this strident sound of instruments--the band members all playing something other than their own--before easing into a much more melodic tune of a misunderstood fellow and then falling apart, in a way, with another noise assault and Tweedy's strained vocals "I know you've got a God-shaped hole, leanin' out your..." something or other, I'm not sure what he says.  Anyway, the screaming of "Nothin', Nothin, Nothin" and that whole breakdown bit is my favorite part of the song.  

I like Tweedy's love songs, such as they are, too.  There is tenderness, there is longing and there is a romantic sentimentality to them; I wouldn't accuse him of being a mushy sentimentalist, thankfully.  "Far, Far Away" and "Say You Miss Me" express similar ideas, longing to see the object of his affection, but in different circumstances.  Both capture that feeling of love.  One is waiting for you, though you might be on the road, or something.  And the other aches with heartbreak and loss.  Tweedy's raspy, too many cigarettes vocals carry that loss in them.  They have that been there, seen that and that and that, post all nighter scratch.  He's not necessarily jaded, but he certainly has been around the block many, many times.  

If you haven't had the chance and if you're a Wilco fan, I recommend the documentary about their departure from Reprise, I Am Trying To Break Your Heart--one of my favorite song titles, ever, by the way.  It's a fascinating look at a band as it learns that they're being dropped by their record label AND making an album at the same time.  It's intimate and surprising.  A glimpse into the music world and all its trials and tribulations.

Next up... Being There (Disc 2)!!!

Before the Dawn Heals Us

Before the Dawn Heals Us-M83

Released: Jan. 25, 2005

Mute Records (US)

French band, M83, creates crazy cinematic landscapes for this album.  The songs are grandiose, broad and, as one reviewer put it so aptly "baroque".  Gold gilt is all over this puppy, my friends.  It's a pretty great record to listen to, even when it seems to be a giant cacophony of instruments and voices.  Lay back, close your eyes and let the movie begin...

For Before the Dawn Heals Us, M83 became a band of one, Anthony Gonzalez.  He recruits a female singer, an actress and a host of celestial voices for back up.  The sounds sweep, burst, lull and urge you along.  This is electronica, and there are live drums and I'm pretty sure I hear some guitars in there, too.  Though I wouldn't classify this as a concept album, I definitely listen to it like a story; it has an arc--really feels like there is a beginning, middle and end, complete with climax and denouement.  It can be thrilling at times, such as when "Don't Save Us From the Flames" lunges at your ears, and creepy/exciting during "Car Chase Terror"--here, the text is read by the actress (Kate Moran, I don't know who she is but what a gig, huh?), I presume, and the fear in her voice has the ability to muster an unease in this listener.  I think the text is written by the brother of Gonzalez, or so I read.  Anyway, maybe the one song that kind of grates is "Can't Stop" with it's repetitive lyrics, "I can't stop.  I can't stop, yeah.", over and over and synthesizers that are almost as repetitive.  It's not horrible, by any means.  This is not a perfect album.  It's good.  I enjoy listening to it.  It wouldn't accompany me onto the proverbial desert island.

"I Guess I'm Floating" incorporates a pretty, light sound accompanied by the voices of children laughing and playing.  What is it about that sound, echoey and distant, that makes one nostalgic?  This song might be my favorite, or one of them, anyway.  I do really like the previously mentioned "Don't Save Us From the Flames".  Oh, yeah.  "Safe" is terrific because it begins with a piano, a real one, and remains grounded through that instrument.  Gonzalez's airy singing floats in and around and is joined by a synthesizer (or keyboard.  I can't tell the difference, I'm sorry to say.)  Even when the synth takes over the piano, volume-wise, the bass notes of the piano continue to keep the song tethered to the realm in which it started.  Lovely. Continuing with my cinematic theme, I'm keen on how "A Guitar and a Heart" acts as the song that hits right after the climax, letting us know that things are about to wrap up.  We're not through, yet, but soon.  The final track, "Lower Your Eyes to Die with the Sun" is the synthesis of the entire album.  Elements from all that came before find themselves in this nearly 11 minute song and bring things to a close.  

I've heard really good things about the latest album, Saturdays=Youth, and even heard a song, or two, on the radio.  (I adore the cover and the homage to John Hughes' teen flicks.)  I'd like to get that and we'll just have to wait until the summer penny pinching is over.