Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Soundly Subjective

I often wonder why I spend so much time writing about new records when I have nearly 1,000 of them neatly shelved and alphabetized in my room. There's a woman who writes an extremely cool blog called ThisIsNotPitchfork.com in which she "reviews" each album in her record collection through the lens of memory. I appreciate this approach to record reviewing because it replaces much of the process' potential pretentiousness with a candid and personal subjectivity. I identify with this approach because nearly every record I love is strongly tied to a specific time or period in my life, and subsequent listens to these records years later return me, much like a familiar smell, to the time and place I discovered the record. With the sheer amount of music I've been sifting through over the past year, I can't help but wonder if my subjective experience of music is slowly being transformed into something objective, something stuffy and academic. But then, it is difficult to find the right words to describe the way an album makes you feel. It is much easier to pick from an ever-increasing list of adjectives that supposedly "describe" an album. I've contemplated writing poems to accompany and describe each album I review, allowing the words contained therein to effectively function as the "review." But that's a bit weird. Maybe I'll give it a try one of these days. For now I have a list of six albums I've been listening to lately which contains, in addition the normal batch of newly released albums, two older albums.




Artist: Galaxie 500
Album: On Fire
Year: 1989
Click here to listen






Galaxie 500 (named after the 1960's Ford model) list both Jonathan Richman and The Velvet Underground as influences on their MySpace page. They formed in Cambridge, MA, in 1987 and lasted for only five years, splitting in 1991. The band first began playing music while attending Harvard and, according to the ever-reliable Wikipedia, inherited its drumset from Conan O'Brien (O'Brien, by the way, apparently wrote his Senior thesis at Harvard on "the use of children as symbols in the works of William Faulkner and Flannery O'Connor--what a fucking badass). After playing around Boston and recording some demos, they finally got produced and were eventually picked up by Rough Trade. On Fire, which was released in 1989, appeared on Pitchfork's "Best New Reissues" section on Tuesday March 30th. I am ambivalent about Pitchfork's reviews of Reissues. On the one hand, they are exposing us to some awesome albums that may otherwise have never have crossed our paths. For this I am entirely grateful. On the other hand, it seems like Pitchfork takes advantage of the fact that these albums have been steadily amassing critical acclaim, and are finally reissued by some small, independent record label. They dish out 10/10 scores as if they're saying, "Hey, look how well we know music! This album is awesome!" No shit it's awesome. People have been talking about it for 20 years, dude.

On Fire is an incredibly anachronistic album. It could have been released any time between 1985 and last week. It sounds like a distant cousin of Beach House's album, Teen Dream, and a softer, dreamier companion piece to Sonic Youth's 1989 masterpiece, Daydream Nation. Pitchfork describes the band as "Dream Pop," which I actually think is a good description of their music. I listened to this today while running in the rain (yes, it has been raining for 3 days straight in Boston), and it completely blew my mind. There is nothing on this album--except, perhaps, the use of the tenor sax in the song "Decomposing Trees" and a slightly 80's sounding snare drum--that suggests this album is 21 years old. The smooth, dreamy atmosphere the band creates is made even greater by singer guitarist Dean Wareham's distorted, feedback drenched guitar. What's great about this feedback and distortion, however, is that it takes a backseat to tone and melody, making it the perfect balance--a bit of acidity to sour the sweet. As I ran I felt like I had listened to this album in middle school or high school. It seemed to draw out memories from my subconscience and coax them to the forefront of mind. And yet, it also seemed to harken somehow to the future I have yet to experience. I felt broken-hearted and overjoyed almost simultaneously, and on more than one occasion I laughed out loud at how good the album was. Standout tracks for me were "Strange," "When Will You Come Home," "Decomposing Trees," "Another Day," and "Isn't it a Pity." I definitely recommend checking this out. Here are the lyrics to "Strange" which, on a rainy New England day, had an odd poignancy that harkened to angstier days:

Why's everybody actin funny?
Why's everybody look so strange?
Why's everybody look so nasty?
What do I want with all these things?

I went alone down to the drugstore
I went in back and took a Coke
I stood in line and ate my Twinkies
I stood in line, I had to wait

Why's everybody actin funny?
Why's everybody look so strange?
Why's everybody look so pretty?
What do I want with all these things?

I went alone down to the drugstore
I went in back and took a Coke
I stood in line and ate my Twinkies
I stood in line, I had to wait


Artist: Ali Farka Toure & Toumani Diabate
Album: Ali & Toumani
Year: 2010
Click here to listen






Of the five albums here included, this is probably the album I've listened to least and like most. Toure and Diabate are truly masters of their instruments, and whoever decided they should work together on an album was a genius (though it's difficult to think Farka Toure or Diabate would create anything less than amazing when paired with another musician who is even half decent. In fact, one of my professors in graduate school first introduced me to Ali Farka Toure when he gave me the compilation between Toure and Chet Baker. I listened to this album biking to work on an extremely gray and rainy morning, and it couldn't have fit the mood better. It's serenity and likeness to great classical guitar albums (Spanish guitar comes to mind, as well as a record by virtuoso guitarist Julian Bream my roommate once told me to buy). It's perfect for lazy mornings or cooking dinner by yourself. It's a perfect listen for falling asleep or an early morning walk. I'm mostly blown away by just how sublimely beautiful and serene it is. I hope you like it.



Artist: North Atlantic Oscillation
Album: Grappling Hooks
Year: 2010
Click here to listen









Much like Oh No Ono, North Atlantic Oscillation is a prog-leaning pop band from the other side of the pond (Scotland, to be exact). The band takes its name from a climactic phenomenon in the Northern Atlantic Ocean, perhaps a self-aggrandizing nod to their own power and scale. The band does, after all, create songs on a massive scale, reminding me of an odd combination of Oh No Ono, Radiohead, Silverchair, and Mogwai. But to be sure the band creates its own sound, and their music is meticulous crafted, precise, and surprisingly catchy for the sheer amount of sound that is included. It took me a few listens to get past this grand scope and appreciate how catchy and unique some of these tracks are, but it was well worth the effort. It's unfortunate that the drummer won't get the credit he deserves, as his masterful, sometimes spastic work is often masked by electronics, synths, and numerous effects. "Ceiling Poem" is reminiscent of "Weird Fishes/Arpeggi's" In Rainbow's style guitar tone and electronics. In fact, I was surprised how often I caught myself thinking how bands like North Atlantic Oscillation couldn't exist without Radiohead bridging the gap between electronics and pop (although there were certainly bands doing this before them). There is an urgency in NAO's music that, when added to their grandiose scope, can be slightly off-putting. Don't expect to love this record the first time through unless you're giving it a really close listen with a good pair of headphones. "Hollywood Has Ended," "Audioplastic," "Ceiling Poem," and "Drawing Maps From Memory" were my favorite tracks.







Artist: White Hinterland
Album: Kairos
Year: 2010
Click here to listen


According to my humble dictionary, "Kairos" is a 20th century Greek word that means, "a propitious moment for decision or action." I suppose this is a fitting title for an album by New England Conservatory dropout Casey Dienel, as she announced quite abruptly on her blog two years ago that "For the present and foreseeable future there will be no more Casey Dienel." More fitting, however, is the fact that this entire album feels like it's moniker--each industrial clang and stripped down percussion, when backed by Dienel's ethereal voice, seems like the calm before a storm. The trick is simply that the storm is the calm itself. When I listened to this record for the first time I was on a long bike ride, and all I could picture in my head was Casey Dienel and the accompanying members recording this album inside some sort of giant robot. They were each rotating on oversized cogs, and a stagnant smoke filled the air. It's tough to describe just how airy and industrial this album is. It's almost like a mellow combination of Portishead and Bjork, with a dash of Joanna Newsom. Dinel's vocals are otherworldly, and gorgeous.


Artist: Paul & Linda McCartney
Album: Ram
Year: 1971
You can't listen to Ram online, but you can go to your local record store and pick up a copy...




Say what you want about Paul McCartney, but the dude is a fucking musical genius. I can't remember who told me about this record first, the guy at the music store with super long hair and thick framed glasses, or my friend Jess with whom I would play "Monkberry Moon Delight" way too loud and scream the chorus much to the chagrin of my McCartney hating roommate. Being released in 1971, McCartney was hot off a split with this little band you might have heard of called The Beatles (who had just recorded Abbey Road), and the similarities are unmistakable. It's hard to imagine, listening to Ram, that the Beatles' arrangements and pop sensibilities were not pushed much further by McCartney, and songs like "Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey," "Monkberry Moon Delight," and "Too Many People," could have easily fit somewhere on the White Album. Even the first version of "Ram On" sounds like it could have been a less serious version of "Blackbird" on a ukulele. There are moments in "Dear Boy" when I expect McCartney to break out into "Band On The Run." The album is fun and reminds me of summertime in Boulder when I was comfortable enough with The Beatles' catalogue to venture into the band members' solo work. I personally think it's one of the best pop albums of all time, and I love rediscovering it among my records and obsessing over it for a month before it disappears for a while. I encourage you to listen to this album even if you harbor less than loving sentiments for Mr. McCartney--I promise you'll like it. If nothing else, listen to "Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey" and enjoy the awesome shift mid song from hazy harmonies to super catchy pop masterpiece.



Artist: Free Energy
Album: Stuck On Nothing
Year: 2010
Click here to listen






An awesome 90's alt-rock album with a healthy coating of lo-fi production from LCD Soundsystem genius James Murphy, my roommate said Free Energy reminded her of Weezer. I want to listen to this album while riding in a jeep with the top down. This is a super fun album that reminds me a bit of Pavement if they were less stonerific and a bit more poppy. Put this on and turn this up during the next sunny, 70+ degree day and let me know what you think.

3 comments:

Reis said...

I'm totally with you on the subjective life moments aspect of records. Climbing Up The Walls (Radiohead) will forever return me to driving down a dark, narrow, twisting, tree-lined road after dropping off my then-girlfriend and the song making me afraid that someone was trying to get in my car or already was in my car. I always managed to hit right there on the album right after I dropped her home.

I think there is value in looking at music objectively and trying to describe it as long as one doesn't forget about the subjective part. I thought our discussion of Plastic Beach had a really keen mix of both - moments where we thought about the dynamics and production and lyrical content, and then other times when we just said "this is my favorite part of the song" with little or no explanation. Because sometimes there is no real (or real useful) explanation - that part of the song is just awesome.

My (current) girlfriend once said of Animal Collective, "Their songs sound like how I feel inside." That might be the best description of why I love their music, and you would never find that in a "professional" review.

Yet.

Pitchfork in particular has a special gift for making even the best music seem absolutely dull. Their review of The xx was particularly offensive for this, but I'm lucky to have friends to let me know when there is something I do need to check out!

RandumInk said...

I love your girlfriend's description of Animal Collective. I also love that you put band names in bold. Both of these I will use in the future (I just don't know how to use HTML properly at the moment...).

You're right, though-- a mix of the objective and subjective is ideal. Subjective statements take on more gravity when they are surrounded by objective analysis (and vice versa). It is difficult to take a review seriously if it is completely subjective, but it becomes bland and sterile if it contains (as Pitchfork reviews often do) endless series of life sucking "objective" analysis.

Hooray feelings!

Reis said...

Hah, I'm not sure Pitchfork even has "objective" analysis - their reviews tend to have a lot of crap about the circumstances in which the album is made (which admittedly can usually be interesting and relevant though should not be the primary content of a review) and then some name-dropping and in the end you really don't have much of an idea of what you're going to hear should you choose to listen to the album.

For a good combination of objective, subjective, and historical musical analysis, I highly suggest the 4/12/10 Sound Opinions about The Clash's London Calling.

As far as bolding and the like - you just put a "b" surrounded by < and > (I can't put it or else it'll just bold what I'm writing) before what you want to bold and then "/b" surrounded by < and > to end the bolding. Use i instead of b for italics. I do prefer to bold band names because I like that it makes clear what is a band and what is something else (song, album, whatever) and it attracts people towards certain parts of the writing, especially if they like the band. However, it does have the downside of making it easier and more tempting for people to just look for the bolded bands that they are interested in and ignore the rest. For what it's worth though, I figure that most people who are gonna skim are gonna skim anyway and it's worth drawing their attention to things they might be interested in that they'd otherwise miss.