You know what I think is an entirely reasonable thing to do?
Buy this book:
And then for shits and giggles attempt to download each piece of music recommended and listen to them in order.
I’ve spent the past two days attempting to find and download music from The Medieval, Renaissance, and Elizabethan Ages (chapter 1) on Bittorrent. It is as easy to find as you might expect. Short term goal: I’m hoping that when I’m done this chapter, Enigma won’t be my only point of reference when I hear a Latin mass being sung.
It’s a 700 page book, it seems to average about five recommendations per page. At the rate of — at most — three pieces per week… well, this isn’t a project I expect to finish anytime soon.
Oh goodness this album is a treat. First, the packaging, which consists of a gorgeous textured cover that was printed on a letterpress, a cd sized booklet of artwork and quotes that includes the note “Fourth Printing February 1996″ (a year after it’s initial release) and finally the credits and thank-yous on a black 11×8.5 card printed with silver ink. With all that to deal with, the music better be beautiful, right? Not just an excuse for people to get all crazy with the packaging. No disappointments.
The personnel on this album reaches 16 people. I would have been surprised that it was as much as half that, because I’m sure I never heard more than five instruments at a time. This is a compliment, when you have that many people, everyone better know their role in the creation even if it’s just a small contribution. The head of this outfit is Jason Nobel and along with violist Christian Frederickson and pianist Rachel Grimes form the core, then beyond that are various collaborators. With the one day for one album nature of Month of New Music, I’ve only had a chance to listen through once. As I listened, while nodding in and out of consciousness a little I should admit, I continuously thought, “Oh, that’s surprising, but I totally get this album now.” and it never really turned out to be true.
While researching I found this blog entry on it, which seems to go through the album song by song describing each. While I’ve done these sorts of reviews in the past, I grown to hate them because it leaves very little room for the reader to get into the album that isn’t in reference to your review. It’s like imposing someone else’s ego on every minute, rather just on the idea of the album. Does that make any sense? What I’m saying is that once I read descriptions like those, I have very little interest in hearing the actual record, as it feels like I already have an opinion on it. These blog entries seem to be more about my experience listening to the record, then the music itself, which is the reason why, I’ve written 500 words here without talking about what the record even sounds like.
That previous paragraph is my explanation for describing things in broad strokes. Broad strokes are good sometimes, see?
So. This album. It has many references, but it isn’t a slave to any of them. At times you are going to think it’s a modern classical album, at times, a jazz album. Some songs sound far out on an experimental tangent with Slint-like droning, while some follow a strict set of rules, in the same way that minimalist classical music does. They all have a common feel, like they were crafted by the same hands and minds.
It’s a beautiful record really, and I think everyone should probably give it a try. This is why I’m linking to a download of the entirety of it, in addition to the link below of my favourite song from it: the sprawling, eleven minute M. Daraguerre. But, really, these people are not famous in any big way, and the packaging is a good ¼ of the experience, so you should pick up a physical copy if you enjoy it.
You said.