Saturday Songs

When I'm not watching shows or sitting int eh library, I'm often out walking somewhere around the city of Coquille and walking of course means listening to music. Well, I guess it doesn't of course mean listening to music, but in my case it does mean that my iPod is either blasting or gently playing into my ears something off a playlist I've created. Generally, I listen to the same playlist day in and day out - Great Fucking Music, it's called, and as you might expect it is comprised of some, er, great fucking music. I walk for an hour to two hours at a time, but the playlist is around 40 hours long. I've never made it all the way through the list, and indeed it would be impossible to do without recharging, or you know, sleeping. I listen to it on random play, which actually do with all of the playlists (Head Full of Radios - my Radiohead, Thom Yorke playlist, and Modest Mouse - my Modest Mouse / Ugly Cassanova playlist; both of these are the complete works as I have them of the artists).
Last week, I completely gutted the GFM list and rebuilt it from the ground up which took me about 10 hours, since I actually wanted to look in every one of the 500+ albums I have and pick the greatest music I had since it was this playlist is all about. Grunge when down, singer/songwriters went up along with some more funky and up-tempo stuff.
All of this is by way of setting up how I got to listen to the particular songs, in the particular order that I did this morning.

KLF - What Time Is Love
I don't know how long it had been since I had heard this song, a while I suspect. Originally released in 1991 and finding it's way into my collection that same year, "The White Room" by the KLF was very much the embodiment of the Illuminatus Trilogy by Robert Anton Wilson and Robert Shea. My sophomore and junior years of college that book was everything to me. It was certainly not the best book I read (I had the 3-in-1 omnibus edition), not the most groundbreaking book, either. But it was very evocative and my first foray in the counter-culture of the late 60s and early 70s. And I do mean counter-culture - not Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix and the Doors, because no matter how different they were from what came before they were also what defined the youth culture (along with others of couse). This was a humorous look at the counter-culture while being part of it. It was the first book I read where the fourth wall was broken. I listened to this album over and over, partly because of the above, but partly because it was one of the few albums I owned at the time that had a great dance beat. And when you're in college, that is often important.
I was hoping to get some great revelation out of the lyrics with this relisten, but I didn't. Just a bunch of nostalgia.

The Beatles - For No One
This song is off of Revolver which is my favorite album, at least right now. This such a great song, and I realize today, and just today for the first time that it so incredibly sad. Maybe I took it too personally.

The Shins - Girl Sailor
Speaking of sad songs that are also beautiful, James Mercer delivered a wonderful and thought-provoking song that was really one of the sleeper hits on The Shins 2007 alsbum "Wincing the Night Away". I've listened to the full album many times, but the singles were Australia, Phantom Limb and Sealegs - by which I mean what had made it into the playlist on my computer and iPod, I have no idea what were released as singles. While this song is sad, it's also hopeful. The girl of the song's name has really fucked up her life, but not beyond all repair, and the narrator seems to be saying that he's by no means perfect but that he'll be there for her if he can be. I guess that's about as hopeful as it gets while remaining completely honest.

Eddie Vedder - Hard Sun
This isn't a sad song, but it's from a sad movie, "Into the Wild", which is number two on my top three all-time saddest movies list (one is Dancer in the Dark and three is the Wrestler). It's the perfect follow-up to the previous song, offering the other voice in response - the one from the person who is messed up, yet still realizes that they have something special in the other person. Plus, it's pretty easy to sing along with, and I can only imagine what the people driving down Highway 42 around 8 a.m. this morning thought I was doing.

Modest Mouse - Black Cadillacs
The third of the middle three songs of this short list that focuses on being fucked up. The first was about someone else, the second about valuing someone who stood by you while you fucked up, and now finally the third argument that things we thought were fine were really fucked up all along. I guess that pretty much sums up life. I'm not interested in pursuing the other logical options, as they are either unrealistic (nobody is fucked up after all) or incredibly depressing (we are all fucked up and nobody cares).

Bob Dylan - All Along the Watchtower
I first heard this song as performed by Jimi Hendrix and instantly fell in love with it. A few years later when I discovered the Bob Dylan version (I had known all along that he had written it, just not that he had recorded a version of it), I fell in love with it all over again. There is something about this song that reminds me of both The Times They Are A-Changin' and Masters of War (both by Dylan of course). It's really a cautionary tale, and as anti-big business / big government as it gets. Perhaps because of the term 'watchtower' it always evokes something medieval for me, and I like to imagine Dylan as the bard in some small, flee-ridden pub in 13th century London singing it while playing a funny lute.

The Beatles - All You Need Is Love
What do you need when you are feeling down and all the endorphines released by walking as fast as you can for as long as you can are not enough to bring you back up? You need John and boys to come along and remind you of the truth of things. When I was a kid, I always preferred the songs that Paul sang, not so much because of content, but because of his voice. When I was at the university, I really appreciated George's voice and began to look more critically at the Beatles work in terms of lyrics and what they actually meant along with teh context both of the gulture-at-large and with the music scene. Since then, I've developed a real appreciation for John's songs. Certainly if we expand into their post-Beatles solo work, it's John and George that I like and still listen to, Paul is okay, but it's so poppy, and well, unsophisticated. I have no comment about George.

The music didn't end after these seven songs, nor did it start with them. I could be all stupid and say something like, "the music has no beginning and no end", but I really I just mean that there were other songs that I listened to first, and after All You Need Is Love, a song came up at that I skipped and thus broke the spell. OK, maybe I want a little bit to say that the music has no beginning and no end and that the trick is just to listen and if you are so inclined to sing or play along.

Musical Moments

I listen to a lot of music. I have since I was a kid. I wish I could figure out some way to count how many songs that I have listened to, and while I'm wishing, what the songs were; a wish that would combine my love of music with my love of statistical analysis... (those of you that really know me, know how I am with numbers and counting)
While I can never hope to get my wish, I do have some precious music-related data stored throughout my life. For instance, the first 45 rpm I ever bought - that's right, I'm old enough that I remember buying singles on vinyl - was the single "Shout" by Tears For Fears, with a b-side of "Songs from the Big Chair". The first 33 rpm long play (that's what 'lp' means) was "Thembi" by Pharaoh Sanders, and the first shrinkwrapped (to be read "brand new") 33 lp I bought was "Thriller" by Michael Jackson. The first cassette I bought (lp - never bought a cassette single) was "Like a Virgin" by Madonna. The first cd I bought was "The Doors" by the Doors (this is kind of up in the air, since I actually bought several at the same time, but believe this was the first one I listened to). For what's it worth, I also remember where and when I bought the above and who was with me when I bought them. If only I had that kind of recall for what I studied in college... (Okay, doubters, in order: K-mart, 1986, father and brother; Next to New, 1984, mother; Ben Franklins, 1985 - a couple of years after it came out, no one; Ben Franklins, 1986 - this was also already out for several years, noone; Musicland, 1990, college buddy. Here's a bonus for reading what's in the parentheses - first digital download was the Star Wars Main Theme by John Williams, 2006, fiancee and cats.)
I seem to have not logged what the last record, cassette or cd that I bought were, nor do I recall what the first of each that I was given as a gift was.
It should come to no surprise to you that I recall quite distinct moments in time when I heard music that changed the rules of the game, so to speak. There are surprisingly few. I have heard lots of music that I really like, a small portion of which I liked on the first listen. I think of my music listening experience to be like a bell curve, especially first listens. There are very few songs that I love or hate on the first listen. Just examining the songs that I love from the first hearing, they generally fall into three categories - songs from artists who've already caught my attention, novelty / one-offs (what I often think of as guilty pleasures songs and new songs. For example, I am a fan of the band Modest Mouse and when they put a new album out there are usually several songs that I love on my first listen to, which is not surprising since I already know that I like the style of music and love quite a few of theirs songs. Often these are bands that I had to to grow to love and are the vast majority. The novelty / one-offs are like the song "Not My Name" by the Ting-tings. I heard it the first time at an REI while doing some shopping, I believe was Christmas related. The final category is new songs, ones which have proven to be the first of many songs I love by a particular artist, such as "Human Behavior" by Bjork or "99.9 Fahrenheit" by Suzanne Vega. It's from this last category that the game-changers have come, though two will need a little bit more explanation.
In chronological order then, here are the big five.
#1) "Riders on the Storm" by the Doors
It is likely that I heard a Doors song before this one, but it would have been on the radio and dismissed by me. In 1984, my mom bought the double-album "Best of the Doors". I had just gotten a combination AM radio / phonograph. She had listened to the album while I was at school. I remember asking if I could take it to my room to listen to while I did homework (which meant that I was really just going to read or play with toys because in 1984 all of my assignments were finished at school). I put the record on, and never got around to doing whatever else it was I was going to do. Powered by a driving bass line played on organ and lyrics that made sense but at the same time spoke to need to read between-the-lines, all wrapped up in Morrison's voice which was lower than anything I had heard at that point (not counting Bowser from Sha-Na-Na of course).
#2) "Tangled Up in Blue" by Bob Dylan
This is the other choice that needs a little explanation. This was not the first Dylan song I had ever heard, it was the third. It was 1990, and I was a freshman in college. Every weekend when one of the guys in hall wanted to drink, he would blast, "Rainy Day Women #13" which everybody knows by the lyrics "Everybody must get stoned". I hated that song, and still don't listen to it. It's amusing the first couple of times you hear it, or if you are with someone who is hearing it for the first time, but when the drunk guy across the hall plays it over and over and over every Friday or Saturday night all semester long, it loses it's sparkle shall we say. The other Dylan song which I had heard and neither loved nor hated, liked nor disliked, was "Subterranean Blues". It took me years to unravel and appreciate that song. It was directly responsible for my signing up and taking "History of the U.S. since World War II" my junior year. One of my friends made me a tape of "Blood on the Tracks" to which "Tangled Up in Blue" is the opening track. It blew my mind. No chorus, just a line repeated at various points throughout what I thought and still think is a really good story.
#3) "Once" by Pearl Jam
I bought this album having never heard of the band, nor of grunge at that point. I recall that I was at Musicland to pick up the R.E.M. album and they were having a sale of buy two and get the third either free or at significantly reduced price. I decided to pick up a second album that I had been thinking about - the new Black Crows album (their first). After that I just walked up and down the rows. I saw a sign that said, "New". I looked at the album, asked the clerk what they knew about them, he had never heard of them, and decided that was a pretty good criteria.
I didn't actually listen to the album until the weekend, there had been an issue with my R.E.M. album - the cd was stamped as R.E.M. and put in an R.E.M. case, but the music was not R.E.M., it was the newest album from Biz Markie (I would later be informed, as I was unfamiliar with him at that point). The store wouldn't take it back because I had broken the seal. I ended up convincing the manager to actually pop into a player and listen to it. I wasn't even asking for my money back, just the album from R.E.M. He ended up giving me a final offer of 50% off buying the album. I said no, went home to my dorm, called a buddy and told him what had transpired. He ended up coming over, and decided that this was a cd that was going to be worth money and offered me $20 for it which I took and went back to the store and used to buy a new R.E.M. album, which I insisted be tested before I left the store. That's how Pearl Jam didn't get listened to until the weekend.
It was a Saturday night, and I wasn't the partying type at that point. My roommate was gone for the night. Most of my neighbors were gone as well. So, I lit some incense, turned off all the lights except for a lamp in the corner of the room and put on a new album which I was committed to listening to with a critical ear, even though I am sure that I would have rather been hanging out with my friends. But as the album started, I knew that I had made the right choice. It was more guitar heavy than anything else I was listening to at the time, but not in the heavy metal kind of way that I had heard so often growing up. It was more like a garage band, but more layered, and then Eddie Vedder starts singing. There was so much raw emotion in that voice that I was transfixed. The lyrics themselves would have been enough to hook me - do deep and so personal. I didn't even lay down on the bed (the only furniture in the tiny room except for the horribly uncomfortable desk chair). I let the song finish and started it over before even giving the rest of the album a listen. I think I listened to that album at least three times that night, and was on the fourth time through when I fell asleep.
#4) "Jane Says" by Jane's Addiction
I missed "Nothing Shocking" when it came out. I had heard of Jane's Addiction, but as much bad as good. It wasn't until a buddy of mine Junior year - late '92 / early '93 dragged me to a listening room in the library to listen to this "great new album" he had gotten. It wasn't new, but new to him, having been out for several years at that point. We had on these giant headphones that provided amazing sound quality as well as cutting out all outside noises. He popped the cd in and picked "Jane Says" through choosing random play. It was amazing. It seemed accessible like a pop song, but was definitely rock with latin and funk influences. Farrell has a unique voice that you either love or hate, and I loved it. The lyrics seemed so real. Here's a story about a prostitute - it's not "Pretty Woman", it's about how she's hooked on drugs, dreams of the day when she can get out of her line of work, and both hates and loves her pimp. I was already into the L.A. sound at that point - the Red Hot Chili Peppers, everything coming out on SST, but nobody was just telling it like it was without preaching about change. We vowed to make music like that right then and there.
#5) "Neighborhood #3 (Power Out)" by Arcade Fire
 I was listening to the local alternative rock radio station and in the middle of a set they played this song. It was 2004 and we were just back from Minnesota and in fact just newly into our apartment. I was doing something on the computer (big surprise I know), and just stopped. Here is this very densely layered, yet fast and energetic song that is relating a story on one level and critiquing a culture on another. The vocalist sounded so sincere that it almost hurt. I listened intently after the song was finished to hear the name of it and that of the artist. I struck out and was unable to go online to check for a playlist at that time. I listened more hours than I normally would have over the next day or two to find out who and what I had been listening to. In the meantime I had told my girlfriend about this fantastic new song that I could only describe. I didn't do a very good job.
 The next weekend or perhaps the one after that, we were riding somewhere with her brother, and the song came up on his playlist - but before it played, he was excitedly telling us about this great new Canadian band he had discovered. I think he may have bee a little disappointed that I had already heard the song, but the song and the album and the band's other albums are all so incredible that I think he got over it.

 There are a number of other songs that were greatly influential on my outlook, but nothing else that just grabbed me, slapped me silly and put me back down headed in a better direction.

Deacon Blues

I was out in the spring-like weather enjoy my morning exercise and listening to music as I often do. Then, I got to thinking, which I also often do. The song ;Deacon Blue;, by Steeley Dan came on and I cranked it up a little bit. I've like this song for decades, but perhaps was listening to it for the first time through earbuds. Let me tell you, earbuds, high volume and saxophone do not mix. Any two of the three works just fine, but add the third element and wow! Instant headache. Fortunately, it's the kind that goes away in three and a half minutes.

It was really the next song that got me thinking about music, 'Valencia' by The Decermberists. What a great story. The first few times Ryan played this band for me, I wasn't liking what I heard. But, it was my brother's-in-law house and my brother's-in-law music; that and there is nothing wrong with people playing music I don't like, as this story will become a testament to. Not much later, I found out that our friend Amy had gone to high school with the lead singer, Colin Maloy (sorry about the spelling as I sometimes would rather be wrong than fact check on Wikipedia). He apparently had been quite pretentious and somewhat a prick towards Amy. That was it. This is a band I would hate.
But I kept it to myself a while and Ryan continued with the disk in heavy rotation. Eventyally, during a board game when voting on music I mentioned that they were not something I wanted to listen to. Everyone in the room was amazed. My other brother-in-law, Kristian, literally stood by the CD player with a shocked expression on his face. Ryan, Kristian and I are all music snobs. Kristian, however, always seems amazed that people can like music that he doesn't, which he usually refers to as them lacking musical sense, and is even more surprised when someone doesn't like something he does. I love the guy to death, but sometimes he just cannot comprehend how other people in the world can feedl differently about stuff than he does. So, in true Kristian fashion, he resolves that the problem is I had not been listening enough and put the album on. Now, he didn't live with us, so he had no way of knowing that we had been hearing that album four or five times a day on Ryan's days off from work and two or three times a day the rest of the week. Whatever.

But, something did happen, not at once, but by the time Courtney and I found our own place I was willing to listen to the back library to see if there was something in it that I might like better. I also saw them live, which made a world of difference. Colin didn't sound so 'snotty' live.
Time went by and The Decemberists released a new album, which I found myself eagerly awaiting. What had happened? Stories. These songs weren't throw away pop songs full of the latest jingoisms. The songs are also full of clever wordplay, which is a big turn on for me in any medium.

James Taylor's 'Fire and Rain' came up next, followed by Jonny Cash's rendition Trent Reznor's 'Hurt'. Both songs are excellent stories, if a bit depressing.
I was first turned on to Bob Dylan by his story telling. The same holds true for Tom Petty, Pink Floyd ('The Wall' was the first album of their's that I owned) and Bruce Springsteen. I found a lot of good stories in Pearl Jam's work as well as Soundgarden's and Beat Happening's work.
I like more music than just "story-tellin'" music, but don't think I get as deeply involved.