Music is My Radar

For whatever praises I can sing about my iPod - believe me, they are endless - and the revolution(s) in digital music production and consumption in the last decade or so, there are some issues created by these innovations which in a few fundamental ways alter how we listen to, purchase, enjoy, and interact with music. And I’m not sure that all of these changes are for the best.

One phenomenon I’ve observed is that music is increasingly commodified. By that I mean that music is consumed and enjoyed less as an art-form into itself than as a means to some other means. Again, as much as I embrace my iPod (and enjoy the familiar silhouetted iPod ads), it is a little disconcerting for me to acknowledge that I might not have heard The Caesars or eagerly embraced Wolfmother were it not for their prominent placements in iPod ads. On some level this is not at all objectionable; I always welcome recommendations of new music. But when the sole intent is to get me to buy something, even something I unabashedly adore, my skin begins to crawl.

But beyond that, the increasing availability of music online (and yes, I know that this is old news, so bear with me) has, I’m afraid, contributed to the demise of one particular form of recorded music to which I am particularly endeared, the album. Again, this is old news, and I am neither going to amass any sort of literature review of what has been said about this in the past, nor am I going to attempt any great and meaningful contribution to the existing body of commentary. We’ve all heard the story, so let’s move on.

(OK, fine. Here’s one article I found interesting. My apologies for the source.)

Rather, my point today is to begin a list/discussion of those apocryphal albums that are best enjoyed from first song to last, start to finish, soup to nuts, or from eggs to apples. (That’s the ancient Roman equivalent of “soup to nuts.”) My first nomination is the last album of original studio material The Beatles ever recorded, Abbey Road.
I’m perhaps a little biased here; Abbey Road has long been my favorite Beatles record. When I first purchased the record, however many years ago that was, I bought it on vinyl, still my preferred format for listening to pre-digital era albums. And it’s not to say that I haven’t dropped the needle down (or skipped ahead on my iPod) to “I Want You She’s So Heavy” (my favorite song on the record, and one of my favorite Beatles’ songs ever) or passed over “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer” (granny music indeed). But by and large, I begin with “Come Together” and end with “Her Majesty.” (For the record - pun intended - I am not listening to Abbey Road as I write this. Currently on my iPod is Parklife by Blur, another fine record and candidate for the Eggs to Apples Club.)

All of this begs a question: what is it about some records that compels the listener to abandon any instincts to skip past the least-enjoyed songs or repeat favorite ones? To listen to the record as it was designed, constructed, recorded, and sequenced, by the band and its studio lieutenants?

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First, let me say that I can’t believe I didn’t start my blog with an entry like this. In fact, I’m a little shocked and embarrassed that it has taken me so long (five months almost) to write about this kind of music. Honestly, if you took music and me and placed us in a particle accelerator and smashed us together at high speeds, what else would be left over? What other type of music could be created?

But first, as is my custom, a bit of background. After years of suffering through life as a fat kid and additional years of having no idea how even to talk to members of the opposite sex, let alone charm them, I slowly settled into a groove in my mid 20s. By that point, I had a few relationships under my belt, none of them particularly successful or fulfilling, and I was ready to venture out into the dating world as a single guy. Make no mistake, this was no easy feat to accomplish, but when I arrived, I did so with aplomb.

I rapidly discovered that the ingredients to a successful date/evening included not only self-confidence and a good sense of humor, but also music. Without a backing track, lulls in conversation seemed awkward, begging to be filled with whatever trivia came to mind. Not exactly the trappings of a Lothario in the making. And so with the help of a few knowledgeable friends, I began to compile a soundtrack suitable for, well, you know.

And so we come to the first in a series - and I do love those series - of music centered around one thing and one thing only. It goes by many names: hanky panky, funny business, making one flesh, the beast with two backs, and so on. We all do it, and most of us enjoy it. So tonight (and at what other time could I be writing this entry?) I offer my first and favorite CD of booty music.

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This just makes me gag.

On my recent CD buying binge I picked up two early-1990s CD singles: Boo! Forever by The Boo Radleys and Strawberry Fields Forever by Candy Flip. I hadn’t heard much from either band - a few songs from the former, none from the latter - but I figured that for $2 each, the risk was minimal.

And while that is true - I did acquire at least $2 in utility from each CD - my reaction on hearing each for the first time was markedly different. I think I listened to Boo! Forever first and was very impressed. It’s funny, because I was never a fan of shoegaze back in the day. In fact, I remember hearing a shoegaze-oriented radio show on my college radio station and rolling my eyes. Something about pretentious Anglophiles, I believe. Anyway, I’m now a pretty solid fan of music both droney and mopey, and so was pleasantly surprised to hear just that sound emanating from my ear buds. The lead track on Boo! Forever is a single off their second album, Everything’s Alright Forever: “Does This Hurt?” It’s not hard to imagine why this song was chosen for a single: dreamy vocals, bold yet hazy guitars, really solid hook. Plus, repeatedly throughout the song, the singer invokes the name “Caroline.” I can just imagine the early-1990s indie rock girls named Caroline swooning. If you’re interested, you can watch the video here.

The Candy Flip single is another story.

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