My Own Biggest Fan

I like a lot of music. I like a lot of music of questionable worth. I like pop. I have not one, but TWO Sunscream albums. I can talk at length of the genius of ABBA and The Go-Gos.

This album is shit. The main single, Obsession, or better known as the theme song to Fashion Television, is actually one of my favourite songs form the 80s. I could listen to it over and over, and have. It’s one of my favourite karaoke songs. If this album was full of Obsessions, it would be a classic. It ain’t. It’s soulless crap. I’m trying to find more descriptive ways of telling you how bad it is and the task defies me.

The problem here is that it isn’t even that the music is badly made, or that the lyrics are actually hysterically awful. Everything about it is just so mediocre. Take Adrian Gurvitz’s “Classic”. AWFUL! So awful. But it’s such a catchy train wreck I can’t help but adore it. (that is probably just me though) The biggest problem with this album is that it was like no one even cared about what they were recording, which seems hard to believe, because you must be committed to doing something if you are going to dress like this while doing it:

Holy shit.

Verdict: kill this to death

Jake Mandell is an extremely interesting guy. Go ahead and visit his website, it’s ok, I’ll be here when you get back. That’s right, not only is he a musician, he’s a freaking neuroscientist.

I bought this album in 2006, while I was living in Tokyo, in Ikebukoro, one of the more remote districts. Not remote for me, because I lived 20 minutes away by foot. Remote in the sense that the only gajin that visited that area were probably residents, not tourists. I bought it without really knowing much about him, just that I liked a couple songs sent to me by friends.

Anyway, it’s the glitchy sort of electronic music. Minimalist techno to maybe narrow that down for the more pedantic, fans of Warp or Skam record labels would be very comfortable with this. (and really, if you are, you’ve probably heard of it anyway) It’s got sort of the crunchy minimalism of Plastikman, but with a bit more melody. (but just a bit) Personally, I prefer a few more hooks myself, which is why I’m more likely to opt for Plaid than something like this. And while I’m a fan of Autechre’s ridiculous noise rhythms, this isn’t quite messy enough to scratch that itch. I’m not faulting this album for either of these points, I am enjoying what I’m hearing, just trying to put it into perspective.

So, why has this album remained unlistened to for so long? Well, first of all, while I was living in Japan I didn’t have a turntable, so it sat — with the 20 other records I bought while there — in a bag, waiting to be shipped back home. That’s not the main reason though. While I have a deep love for music like this, my love is fairweather. Or rather, gloomy weather. I have to be in a very specific mood to listen to an album like this. It is something that you can dance to, for sure, but I prefer to ingest this stuff with headphones while laying down, simply being, rather than doing. And, to get back to why it took so long, I have a few go to albums for when I want that fix. (The Black Dog: Spanners, Plaid: Not For Threes and Autechre LP5 being the most prominent) I just wasn’t ready to let another one in. But, it’s probably time to let this one enter the rotation, and considering it’s winter time, the best time of year for this stuff in the headphones, I’ll be spending some time with it again soon.

Some people were disappointed that there weren’t download links to songs off the albums I’m listening to. Since they are on vinyl, there is a bit of work involved either in searching or ripping. We’re lucky in this case though, Mr. Mandell has been nice enough to give us the entire album for download on his site, since it is out of print anyway. Also on the other end of the same link is his blog entry talking about how he made the album. I’m pretty sure there will be a couple of other Month Of New Music peeps that will find the story interesting.

Download Jake Mandell’s Quondam Current

Verdict: +

I’m getting a little ahead of the game here, because there will be days when I can’t do an album. Xmas party season and all that, so today you get two.

I was prepared for an album much less diverse and listenable, something much less ambitious. This being a soundtrack, I expected a grouping of enjoyable, but pedestrian soundscapes. But of course that was before I knew that this was his follow up to Songs in the Key of Life. (which is an album that should be issued to every human at birth to teach how great music can be) Stevie eases you into a lull with the first three songs, all pretty instrumentals, he then gives you a taste of his amazing voice in the fourth, and to reward our patience things start getting weird, in a really good way.

Whatta you want? We got traditional Japanese chanting, jazz funk comedy, full on club disco, bouncy pop, and then we are back down to earth again for awhile. Of course, you do get the Stevie Wonder shmaltz once in awhile, but it’s done so well I can’t fault it. So many fun surprises, so rich with interesting melodies.

If I were to have to pick out something to naysay here, it’s that the mastering is a little brassy. This is one of the first albums to be recorded digitally, and you really can hear it. While the process does give it an exceptional clarity, it’s at the expense of some of the album’s warmth. But I only bring that up as an observation, I wouldn’t really consider it a true detriment.

Verdict: 4 out of 5 botanists recommend this album

Something light and warm for a bitterly cold, snowy day. Once again, I can’t say much about this. I don’t know much about Cuban music. I bought this record mostly for its beautiful cover. My only real thoughts are that it sounds like a less gimicky (and therefore less interesting) Esquivel, whom I quite like. The vinyl itself is in pretty rough shape, so I couldn’t really get the subtleties out of this music.

But like I said, it made me feel warm for about an hour.

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Ok, so I wrote the above around noon yesterday, before I was able to download a new version of this album. I have to say, the little I was able to make out, between the skipping, crackling and needle wear, intrigued and charmed me enough I had to find a digital copy to review. I wasn’t giving it the respect it deserved.

Then I found someone else’s blog entry, written on the author’s mother’s 94th birthday, where they told me that this album was their mother’s favourite. How could I possibly dismiss this music with a short 87 word non-review. So, I downloaded it and listened.

It’s lovely, and inspiring, and each song has a personality that carries you up and down on a journey that reinforces my deep seated desire to visit Cuba. It’s a shame that the lounge fad of the mid 90′s (there’s that 90s reference again) didn’t actually bring about a long lasting respect for the musicians and arrangers that made this music. I mean beyond Esquivel and Ferrante & Teicher. Or, maybe people like me are the resurgence’s legacy.

This is the sort of thing that people need more of in their lives. Real musicianship. Not to say we don’t have that happening at all, but it isn’t happening with such accessible emotional zeal.

Here’s the download link I used for this album’s second chance.

Verdict: 1 out of 1 second chances.

Another album from someone else’s past. I’ve mentioned old friend’s musical tastes a couple times in these posts. It’s a recurring theme for these albums because I’m often picking up older music because I find myself thinking “I remember when so-and-so would talk about this album, I should really give it a go.” Month of New Music is giving me a chance to do this.

For those as green as I am to The Who, you probably won’t recognize many songs on Quadrophenia. I am pretty sure I’d heard the album’s finale, “Love, Reign O’er Me” before, but I can’t be sure. It was released as a single, as was “The Real Me” which I am even less sure I’d heard before.

I’ll give you a quick explanation of a complex album: it’s a semi-autobiographical concept album, dealing with all the members of The Who rolled into one character, Jimmy, a mod. It revolves around events stemming from the 1964 Battle of Brighton between the Mods and Rockers. If you aren’t familiar with the history, you might have to do a bit of research to know what they are talking about, but not much. The bulk of the meat here is Jimmy wrestling with his inner demons.

Because of the scope of its subject matter, it would be premature of me to write any sort of review on this album. I’m sure this post will elicit much head-shaking from those that consider this album required listening. I’m tempted to agree that it may be, it’s a stirring work, and it also begs for multiple plays. I also messed up when playing the album, I ended up listening to it in the wrong order. It’s a two record set, and it was pressed for play on a record changer, for a listen interrupted with only one flip of the records rather than three. I didn’t notice this and I didn’t notice until after I heard side 4 before I’d heard sides 2 and 3. This made the experience a little disjointed. I’ll have to remedy that soon.

Rating: 4/4 personalities.

Odd chord choices, lo-fi recording, abstract noise washes. These are the ingredients to the kind of music most of my art school friends were listening to in the mid-late 90s. I liked some of it, but much of it just sounded boring to me. I inherited this record when one of these art school friends moved to New York a couple years ago. The Sonora Pine is from 1996, and it sounds like it, but that’s not to say it doesn’t sound great. I doubt I would have liked it then, but my tastes have developed a little in the past 14 years. There is enough of a hook to these songs that you actually can find yourself swaying to them or tapping your foot. That’s the sort of connection I wasn’t able to make back then. Thanks, Angela, for leaving this record with me. Glad I finally got a chance to listen to it. Perfect music for lounging on the couch when you are stuck in the house on a snow day in the middle of the afternoon, which is lucky, because that’s exactly what today has been like.

ALSO: I’m not sure I’ve been clear, but my plan for The Month Of New Music is that I’m listening to 31 records from my vinyl collection that I haven’t heard yet. I listen to vinyl very differently than I do mp3s — which is my other main source of music. (I turn my CDs into mp3s when I want to listen to them) I don’t often listen to whole albums off the computer or iPod, but you really have no choice but to with vinyl. So, while I might gush over an album when I listen to it on one medium, I might totally ignore it in another. I also don’t often buy music I’ve never heard before on vinyl, unless it’s flea-market price. So, considering these factors, me listening to a month of new vinyl is a very interesting experiment, at least personally. It’s a hard thing to explain. I hope I’ve done at least a mediocre job of doing so.

I can’t say much about this album. For one, I’m extremely tired at the moment, and don’t have a lot in me. Also, this album is a jazz album, and I don’t know much about talking about jazz. First off — after some research I found out that this is a reissue of a previous album that was originally called Curried Soul. The original release had a better name, and a better cover and had a recipe on it for what looks like a delicious meal. This one: crappy cover, awful name and no recipe.

What’s it sound like? Like a not-so-inspired soundtrack to a 70′s detective TV show. It’s pleasant enough, but it didn’t grab me in any special way. The cover of Sunshine Superman might be worth it for some people, or his version of Herbie Hancock’s Cantelope Island. The rest of the album is at best background music. I could be just ignorant though. I hear he won the Order of Canada for his contributions to the arts, and the song Curried Soul was the theme song to As It Happens. So, I guess to be a good Canadian, I’ll need to listen to it again soon.

Rating: 3 yawns out of 5.

Don’t blame him for stealing me, you let him.
And where your love stopped, he went a little bit farther.
You changed so much, I was more at ease with a stranger.
But it wasn’t hard, our love was already in danger.

When I bought this album, I assumed by the slick design and the fact that Sammi Smith looked African American (she is not, as you can see by this Google images search) on the cover, that I was buying a soul album. I was in fact buying a little known album by one of the few women welcome in the “outlaw country” genre. I am not the biggest country fan, but I LOVE Cash, Nelson, Kristofferson, Jennings, Cline, Jones, etc. Being surprised with this type of country is not unwelcome.

I don’t know who’s writing the songs on this album. From what I can figure, she is most well known as the voice for Kris Kristofferson’s Help Me Make It Through The Night. (which I’ve never heard — probably) If she is writing these songs, all the better, if she is delivering songs she did not write, any songwriter would be hard pressed to find a more perfect vehicle. If you are not a fan of outlaw country, then you will find nothing here to make you a fan… maybe. (I’d be tickled to find someone who was given a new appreciation for this music after hearing this album) But!… (and PLEASE don’t think that I’m being derisive when I say this) there is much here for those that dissect feminist poetry. In Why Do You Do Me Like You Do she describes a tragic domestic violence situation, and makes it so real and emotional within a three minute country song it’s hard to take. In Foxy Dan, she is the vivacious young minx (or at least that’s how I imagine this character), seduced by a dangerous, charismatic gangster. There are themes within each tune that can resonate for young women and seduce young men or even break the heart of either sex — over and over.

My only real fault with the album is that twice Ring Of Fire is evoked as an embarassingly obvious melodic influence on the songs (and once I heard something uncomfortably close to the beginning of Harper Valley PTA). At the time, there were probably much more blatant lifting of melodies, so I guess I can forgive this transgression. Truly, the good deeds outweigh the sins in this case.

Verdict: Recommended for fans of the genre. No numerical rating because if this intrigues you at all, you should just seek it out and make up your own mind. That’s what this music is all about.

I was first introduced to The Cocteau Twins in 1992, when I bought the compilation album Never Mind the Mainstream Vol. 1. It was my first compilation album that wasn’t a soundtrack or a christmas gift. It was my first music that I could say was mine to discover, because almost all of it was NEW (to me). The reality was that I meant to buy Vol. 2, on the merits it had Depeche Mode and Ministry on it, and it was probably MUCH COOLER. But the fact is I hemmed and hawed over both for an hour. do I want older music that is more of a risk and therefore more exciting, or do I want a compilation that I’m guaranteed to like half of? life is so haaaard I THOUGHT I put Vol 2 on the counter at the K-Mart in Billings, Montana, where we were vacationing for the long weekend in The States, and didn’t realize my mistake until I got back to our camper-van which we kept parked in the mall parking lot. Regardless, the compilation brings a dozen stories to mind, and you aren’t interested in any of them. You, reader are asking, “What about that fucking album you are holding in that picture up there?”

It’s fucking great. At least on first listen — to someone who is in a pretty melancholy mood. It suits what’s going on in here, and it suits what’s going on up here. It also makes me a little sad for the reasons I didn’t expect. I was assuming it’d be gloomsville because these guys aren’t really a party band. They can be a pick me up, or light listening, but mostly they are a warm bath to steep your gloomy in. But the unexpected sad comes because I don’t understand why I didn’t fall in love with this band when I was 16. It wasn’t like I wasn’t open to it, I must have listened to Carolyn’s Fingers a thousand times since I bought that compilation. (I actually traded it in for some unmemorable cd while I was in art school, and subsequently re-bought it off eBay 4 years ago) I’ve aways been a fan of the over produced ethereal sound with all the digital reverb and droning guitars. At the time I was even into the “college rock” jangle of bands like XTC, which I had found lacking in 90′s grunge and industrial, but comes in spades here.

Whatever the case, I’m happy I own this record now, and I’m glad I found it at the “all you can carry” sale at Inner Sleeve. It’s helped me kick off the Month of New Music on a bit of a personal, sentimental even, sappy probably, verbose definitely, note. ALSO: sorry I’m having a hard time keeping this train on it’s tracks tonight, maybe tomorrow will be better?

Verdict: Recommended. ☹ ☹ ☹ ☹ / 5

Because @superblue made a list, here’s my top 5 most played songs, according to iTunes, too.

5. Get Paid (Robots in Disguise Remix) — Rhythm King & Her Friends

4. Punks — Anthony Rother

3. Wolf Like Me — TV on the Radio

2. Wildcat — Ratatat

1. Driver’s Seat — Sniff ‘N’ the Tears