Tuesday 27 November 2012

Play To Z: Where Does It All Come From?



We're halfway through my music collection now (baring any sudden donations or downloading sprees) and as I was writing up my last few entries I began thinking about a very fundamental question - where did my music taste come from?

I didn't grow up in a musical house. Neither of my parents care much about music; I think between them they own perhaps 40 albums, and rarely listen to any of them, and as far as radio goes, the dial moves between Radio 4 and Radio Norfolk with little deviation. Back in her youth, my mum saw bands like The Rolling Stones and Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick and Tich live but never spoke a great deal about them, and my dad grew up in a pre-pop music era.

My sister did listen to music, but she was (and remains) seven years older than me, and we've always had very different taste in pretty much everything. My memories of her musical taste in my formative years go East 17 -> Guns 'n' Roses -> Anything the Ministry of Sound recommended. None of them exactly exploded my young mind with the possibilities of music.

One of the biggest impacts on my young brain was the radio. I remember getting a clock radio when I was about 8 and tuning it in for the first time, looking for the first station that played anything "modern". I ended up on Broadland 102.4, our local commercial radio station (who knows how life would have been if I'd turned the dial the other way and ended up on Radio 1) and stuck with them for several years. They played a pretty standard mix of chart pop and 80s/early 90s hits, and laid the foundations for me coming back to pop music several years later after some misguided teenage rockism.

My love of music only really took off in sixth form (that's 16-18 for non-Brits). Before that, I'd listened to what friends said was good or mainstream rock without really ever giving it any thought, or feeling inspired by it (this was the age of nu-metal, so there wasn't exactly anything inspiring out there).

Once I'd escaped my old high school and some not-exactly-healthy friendships, I started exploring music a little. I went through a phase of buying albums by artists I didn't know on the strength of one song. I watched High Fidelity and Grosse Point Blank, both of which informed my taste a lot. I started going to gigs, mainly thanks to friends who knew more than me, and discovered the joys of live music.

Still, my taste has ended up very different to a lot of my friends, even though I take their recommendations to heart. Some of my favourite bands and artists were discovered in most unusual ways. I found Broken Social Scene based on a webcartoonist's recommendation; Beck came from watching the Futurama episode he was in; Death Cab For Cutie was due to, I think, hearing their name mentioned in The OC. It's not exactly the opening scene to Almost Famous.

I can only say that my taste in music matches my taste in most other things: I like emotional honesty that doesn't stray too far into melodrama or naked exhibitionism. I like intelligent writing that thinks about themes and patterns. I like people who don't take themselves too seriously. And I think you can make something exciting, accessible and popular without sacrificing any of those things.

And I'll never stop looking for new things to love.

Play To Z: Kitsuné Maison Compilation 9 to Lost Horizons

There was gonna be an essay-style portion to this post, but it got too long so I've separated it out. Enjoy some other good stuff though!

Some Observations

The Klaxon's cover of "No Diggity" isn't as good as the original (what is?) but damn if they don't give it their best show and come up with a new spin on it.

Portico Quartet's album Knee Deep In The North Sea is one of the more left-field records that I own (contemporary jazz, anyone?) and is a helpful reminded that although you might not think it, cello, clarinet and kettle drums go together surprisingly well.

Holy Fuck are a good band, but their live show is something else. Live electronica can too often be a guy pressing buttons and trying to make a show out of it, but watching these guys play instruments as they pull magnetic tape through machinery was brillo pads.

Ladyhawke's eponymous first album is one of those records that I always forget I really enjoy. Part of it is the slightly disposable nature of the electro-pop she makes (please note, I do not use "disposable" as a bad term - it's just some things are made to make you dance, not think about) and part of it is that there's no strong themes or emotions that come through in her songs, at least not enough to hang them onto my own experiences. Still, there's some great danceable songs in there.

One of my favourite things about Kanye West is that when he learned some of the facts behind the conflict diamond trade, he re-recorded "Diamonds From Sierra Leone" with an aim towards raising awareness about the issue, but he still included the original version, which features a typically materialistic approach towards diamonds, because hey, it's a damn good song.

Lazerproof is an album of La Roux remixes by Major Lazer, and is far better than anything by La Roux or Major Lazer by themselves.

"The Staunton Lick" remains one of my favourite songs, indelibly linked to both the end of Spaced and the end of my time in America (I played it as I left our house, and by extension San Francisco, for the final time in a deliberate homage to Spaced) and one of those songs that instantly makes me calm, happy and tranquil. It's like aural Prozac.

Hey, "Gimme Shelter" is a pretty good song, isn't it?

It's a perfect coincidence of the alphabet that puts "Hawaiian Roller Coaster Ride" from the Lilo & Stitch soundtrack right next to "Circle of Life" from The Lion King. That's a one-two punch of happy-making energisers right there.

I've already trumpeted Solange's "Losing You" around the Internet as a borderline perfect pop song, and I'm not sure there's much more I can say about it (beyond GO LISTEN TO IT) but I have just noticed that what initially appears to be solid yellow artwork for the single in fact hides yellow-on-yellow writing that you can only see from certain angles. I approve of such creative trickiness.

Rediscovered Gem

"Saints" by The Breeders

Wednesday 14 November 2012

Play To Z: The Hazards of Love to Kings & Queens

Holy crap, it's been a while. I'm gonna stick with just observations on this one, because there's a lot of ground to make up. However, I'll aim to A) be more regular and B) do an actual "topic" post ASAP, 'cos there's stuff I wanna write about

Some Observations

Listening to "I L U" by School of Seven Bells has a weird gut punch effect on me. It's not a song I associate with a particular moment, or that I came across at an especially difficult moment in my life, but as soon as I hear that first ethereal note, I get this weird romantic stomach ache. It's like a mainline to heartbreak.

"Intergalactic" by the Beastie Boys was perhaps the third single I bought (on cassette, natch) and is one of the foundations of my musical taste. I listened to a few Beasties albums in this selection, and every one was tinged with a little sadness at Adam Yauch's passing. I think he may be the first "celebrity" death to have had a real emotional impact on me, and I can only point to the long shadow the Beastie Boys cast over my life as the reason for this.

Remember before Mark Ronson put horns on everything?* Remember when he made dancefloor fillers like "Ooh Wee" with Ghostface Killah, Nate Dogg, Trife and Saigon? Sigh

"Higher and Higher" by Jackie Wilson will forever be the song that animates the Statue of Liberty in Ghostbusters 2, which I must have seen at least 4 times before I got around to seeing the first Ghostbusters. I know most people look down on the sequel, and perhaps it's just nostalgia talking, but I honestly rate them equally.

I've never been a huge of The Killers, but if you don't sing along to "Mr Brightside", you're made of stone. There should be more songs about jealousy. It's an underrated emotion.

I'm pretty sure The Weeknd has brought out his full album now, but I'm not sure anything will compare to the dark icy majesty of House of Balloons. Such a perfectly formed EP; at once a mission statement, a portrait, a confession and a memoir.

David Bowie's description of Bob Dylan's voice as "sand and glue" on Hunky Dory is basically spot on.

If you're a drummer in need of inspiration, go listen to Those Dancing Days' self titled song (helpfully linked right here) and go slack-jawed in awe at Cissi Efraimsson's astonishing skills.

People with far greater skill and knowledge have written at length about why In The Aeroplane Over The Sea by Neutral Milk Hotel is so very good. I'm not sure I'm even capable of articulating this album's brilliance. Jeff Mangum's dream-like lyrics touch on family, faith, death, destiny and the weight of history, articulating meaning through a swirl of imagery and the tremulous power of his voice, so heavy with emotion. It's one of the outstanding achievements in pop music in the last 20 years.

I think I've shared this story before, but it's worth repeating. When I was in Sixth Form (I'm not sure if I was 17 or 18 when this happened) I worked at a newsagents in Norwich's train station. I basically ran the shop with another similarly-aged boy or girl on weekend afternoons. To get home in the evenings, I would walk up Prince of Wales Road, a dirty street that hosts numerous low rent night clubs and takeaways, essentially the hub of Norwich's nightlife if your aim is to get slaughtered and swap infections. One night, late in the winter, I was walking up this filthy road that to me represented a side of youth culture I felt I would never understand, let alone want to mix with. Usually quiet on a Sunday, it was especially dead today. It was cold, and it was snowing, and In Time, REM's greatest hits, was playing on my Discman. As I approached the top of Prince of Wales (the street slopes uphill towards Norwich Castle, where my bus stop awaited), "Nightswimming" came on, and something changed in me. It's a simple constructed song, but one with a lot of power. Something made me turn back, and look down this street that I so associated with drunken idiots and the trudge to a job I hated. The snow had transformed it, made it clean and new and beautiful. I felt something electric pass through me and stood frozen in that moment, confronted with this striking metamorphosis as Michael Stipe sang softly of still lakes and stolen moments. In that eternal second, I knew how magical music was.

Hey, I'd forgotten that the first four tracks on It's Not Me, It's You by Lily Allen are basically perfect. Come back and make another album, Lily. Music is weaker without you.

I think "The Prowl" by Dan Auerbach of The Black Keys would be a pretty sexy song anyway, but I came across it because of this (sort of NSFW), so that's pretty much cemented it as boneriffic.

*I realise he's put out another album that's less horn-filled and so this jokes a little old, but the point remains

Rediscovered Gem

"She's A Rejector" by Of Montreal