Farther's Day Random Ten


 


1. Steve Coleman And Five Elements - t-t-tim
2. The Beatles - Act Naturally
3. B12 - Obsessed
4. Enya - Flora's Secret
5. The New London Consort/Philip Pickett - Second Vespers: Magnificat [The Feast Of Fools]
6. Yes - Wonderous stories
7. John Fahey - Revelation
8. Henry Cow - Teenbeat Reprise
9. Hawkwind - LSD
10. Earl Hines- On the Sunny SIde of the Street

And going up to 11: Aztec Camera - Do I Love You

And I don't want to hear any crap about Enya, either.
Granted, listening to more than one of her CD's in succession can induce a dreamlike sleep breakable only by a kiss from Axl Rose--and there may be no reason to buy any new releases of hers from this point onwards.
but where she absolutely shines is on an iPod in shuffle mode. A swash of pure romanticism in the midst of noise--or, even better, as in this case, a bridge from one genre to another. The center of this set is a remarkable illustration in the hands of the God of Chance: the high, clean tones of B12's techno is different from Enya's high, clean misty dawn--which is difference from the high,clean tones of the medieval choir--which is different from the high, clear trumpet voluntary of Jon Anderson's fearless singing. Kind of a big party with unlimited helium and the treble turned all the way up, but with widely different results.

I've been reading more music reviews/criticism than I usually do of late: another spate of looking for the great stuff I just know has to be out there. And there remain my two biggest problems with the form. The first is the iron-clad granite laminated personal criteria that remain something of a secret to the reader. It's certainly hard to avoid, but is kind of imperative if you're supposed to be a critic of any sort. And this is true of big time well-paid reviewers, make no mistake--in fact it can be worse, since small-time reviewers are more prone to say "I think The Jesus and Mary Chain is the greatest band ever/ a complete waste of time" or "Everything done after/before 1981 is complete garbage." It's sometimes more Kremlinological to read a big reviewer to try to find whether the review is worthwhile to you or not: does it seem he's using 'noise' with a positive or negative connotation? When he says Elvis, does it seem like he's talking about the fat Vegas Elvis or the early black-leather Elvis? And whoop--was that a political comment?

(I'll just mention in passing one of my favorite books: The Pooh Perplex , by Frederick C. Crews (being kept alive by my alma mater). It's hard to do a whole book of criticism parody--I can't think of another one--but Crews launches hilarious critical assaults on Winnie the Pooh--Marxist, Freudian, New Critical, Aristotelian--my favorite is one called 'Another Book To Cross Off Your List', written by a D. H. Lawrence scholar who concludes that, since Winnie The Pooh is not about mining in the Midlands, it is of no worth whatsoever. It's brilliant ,)

The other problem, which is systematic, is that reviewers write from the standpoint of being surrounded by piles and piles of discs. Most of the time it's because they get review copies for free, although there are some serious cases who buy ten or more discs a week. It's good to be up on what's out there, and is an entirely logical part of the reviewing process, but it's always been true that reviewers tend to have a problem understanding the viewpoint of someone who maybe buys ten discs a year, and/or someone who wants to be really careful with their entertainment cash. A reviewer who goes through a lot of stuff may enthuse over a band that is simply refreshing in contrast to the last 60 discs they've heard--and give the reader the impression that it's up there with Let It Bleed, Sgt. Peppers, the Leo Kottke armadillo album and The Downward Spiral. Mild eccentricities bloom into full-blown erratic genius, simple sardonic attitude becomes Noel Coward and overenthusiasm on the compressor/limiter becomes low-fi dystopian vision.
It's not a major sin: transcendent artistic triumph becomes mere variety. And it is the truth that the person with 20 discs looks at the collection of someone with thousands, and wonders that there can't be all that many more treasures, can there? And the answer his, honestly, no. Most of any big collection is just good or interesting stuff, discs with one or two great moments or discs just slightly off the beaten track. It doesn't give an easy answer to the 20-disc question, why listen to anything but the best? Why listen to Bruckner when you've got Beethoven? Why listen to Hawkwind when you've got Yes? Why listen to anything at all when you can find satori listening to John Fahey?
I could say that listening only to the peaks is like eating a whole tub of frosting, but that's not exactly fair. Listening to just the Pastorale and Bitches Brew and Born To Run isn't going to make you sick; even listening only to Mozart or only to Billie Holliday won't stunt your growth--in fact, it could make you a happy person. No, it's just a different way of approaching music--music as a thing, music as an idea, music as a problem, music as a nation and as a history. To be sure, the guy with thousands of disks probably has a bunch of real treasures to give to the 20-disk person (Peter B. Gillis's 100 Greatest Albums of All Time!) (Here! Men Without Hats Pop Goes The World! Judee Sill's Heart Food! Van Dyke Parks' Song Cycle ! Mike Keneally's hat !), but the gap is still there. It may be less intense, but more varied. More academic and less delightful. More grounds for thought and less grounds for leaping in the air. Richer but less poor in spirit. (for they shall see Elvis.)

One mixed good thing is that the advent of the iPod, iTunes and eMusic is that it's become less punishing following this left-hand path. Less decoding of music reviews, fewer rummage sales and swap meets, fewer bad bands in bad bars and much less money spent determining whether Ned's Atomic Dustbin is worthwhile or not. (Magic 8-ball says no.) This whole new setup enables those for whom it's a good idea to follow that path to do so without being a slave to music geekdom.

It also makes it possible to enjoy Enya for what she does, and listen to both Yes AND Hawkwind, and to delight in the Beatles doing Country & Western, bracketed with Aztec Camera doing Cole Porter, and remark with nicely modulated pleasure that it's all music.

Posted: Friday - June 15, 2007 at 12:42 PM        

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