OK, back to my musical life-story, after that break to kvetch about the stereotyping of Kasabian. I'm afraid I may break to talk about Kasabian often. I'm kind of obsessed with them. Sue me.
I said I would discuss classical music. I trust that by the time I'm finished, anyone that really likes that sort of thing will be ready to pelt me with raw eggs, and everyone else will be bored out of their socks. Nevertheless, it is part of my experience of music, so let's get it done with.
First, Wikipedia makes a nice distinction between "classical music" and "Classical period." I'm talking about the first, more vernacular definition. Classical as in formal, orchestral, "high" as opposed to popular culture. That may be part of my problem with it. The older I get, the more distrustful I become of the classism implicit in "high culture." I also dislike the idea (implied so often in any art or literary criticism) that "difficult" is somehow virtuous and that things which are easy on the eye/ear or fun to read/watch are lowbrow. Some "difficult" things are worth it (Carlo Gesualdo) and some aren't (Philip Glass).
I was certainly exposed to a lot of classical music. Despite my mom's best efforts, I never cared for most of it. I like Beethoven, which probably has more to do with the fact that I loved Peanuts than anything. Be that as it may, the brooding Für Elise and the soaring Ode to Joy have an undeniable emotional authenticity that I could never find in soppy Strauss or vacuous Mozart. Yes, I know I'm supposed to like Mozart, just like I'm supposed to like the writings of Milton. I know why educated people are supposed to appreciate Mozart. But every time I hear his works, I think of women in glitter tights doing arabesques. People who love Mozart love his sparkling virtuosity. It makes me want to gag.
About the only classical music I picked up from my mother was my love of Wagner. Now as a good liberal, I think I'm supposed to denounce Wagner for being an anti-semite. Might as well denounce Mozart for being a coprophile. Genius really has nothing to do with the personal/political virtues/vices of the artist in question. I just love Wagner's bombast - it reminds me of glam rock. (Which reminds me to say that Velvet Goldmine and Farinelli are really the same movie, and you need to watch both of them.) And I love the stories behind the operas - I am a mythology teacher, after all!
I played the violin and sang in innumerable choruses, and went to music camp one summer, and took music history from the Cleveland Institute of Music when I was at CWRU. In short, I'm familiar with a boatload of classical music. Out of all of it, I liked
- to play chamber music, and to have it in the background. It's very mathematical, and I like the precision of it. But I could never really fangirl it, dig?
- to sing parts of the Messiah, namely "Surely he hath borne our griefs" and "Lift up your heads." Uplifting, but not nearly as much as Ode to Joy. The "Hallelujah Chorus" is kind of kitschy - maybe I just feel that way because it's been overused in advertisements, but so have Beethoven's 5th, "Ride of the Valkyries" and "Four Seasons," and I don't cringe when I hear them. I feel the same way about the Messiah that I feel about sports...fun to participate in, but I don't really understand wanting to watch.
- Ravel's "Pavane for a Dead Princess." Wow, THIS is a gorgeous piece of music. We played this in orchestra, and it haunted me for years. My dad always loved the more famous "Bolero," but frankly, it bores me.
- Carlo Gesualdo. Gesualdo rocks! He was also a mega-crazy mo-fo, which only adds to the attraction. I learned about his music in college, but never played it.
- Medieval secular/dance music in general. I like the chordal progressions, so different from what the modern ear is used to, and it can have some serious drumming. I suppose it's also pretty telling that I most enjoy the dance music as opposed to madrigals, motets etc. Low culture vs. high culture again. Medieval music sounds pretty difficult and unfamiliar to most people, so my preference for Medi-pop can't be attributed to listening to the Monkees when I was six.
Hmmm...now that I think of it, drumming is really an issue, maybe THE issue. Drums are conspicuously absent in some classical music (chamber orchestras), and when present, used less to keep rhythm and more to add drama. In most classical pieces, you get gongs and timpani thundering in at the loud bits, and then maybe an occasional snare might add a militaristic flare. But I want doumbeks and tablas and bongos and a full goose rock n' roll drum kit! I want pounding, trance-inducing rhythm, not little frills and trills.
The very existence of a conductor is problematic. You'll sometimes see chamber groups without one, and that's because the mathematical precision of the music can drive the piece. But in most classical music, you need a conductor because the rhythm is fluid. And perhaps that's why in general, classical music sounds dull and empty to me. Rhythm induces a trance; it's like a drug. It's sexy; it's mystical. Personally, I don't like Ravel's "Bolero" - but I have heard the word
"sexy" to describe it over and over - and it is a piece remarkable for its relentless drumming. No one
would ever describe "The Blue Danube" as "sexy." It's stylized. Waltz
rhythms are the rhythms of people eating creme-cakes and making small
talk.
A true lover of classical music appreciates its complexity, the melodies, harmonies, the development of a theme over time. And in my favorite classical pieces, I appreciate that too, but far more than that, the sense of emotional authenticity that the composer managed to convey. Maybe drums are an easy way to put passion into a piece; it can be done otherwise, but it's much harder. And I know that there are hundreds of thousands of people who would look askance at me and ask, "How can you say that Carmen and Aida are not passionate?" To which I reply, no Carmen, please, no. There's a reason Warner Brothers satirized it.
You like what you like. My brain isn't wired for classical. Anyway, I'll do a playlist.
"Ode to Joy." - It's amazing to me how someone with so much personal tragedy could leave as his last legacy one of the most ecstatic works ever written. Maybe since he was deaf, he could only hear the music made by angels?
Handels' Messiah - "Lift up your heads": Listening to it, it's a little twee, innit? Like something Monty Python should send up. But it is fun to sing.
Here's why it's impossible to get anything done while on the internet: I go looking for a simple piece by Carlo Gesualdo and have to stop to watch Werner Herzog' documentary about the composer's life. Gesualdo proves my point about genius having nothing to do with personality. He was quite disturbed, and his music is disturbing. Yet there's something very beautiful about it. It does nothing you expect, and there's really nothing else like it.
Interesting that the Gesualdo documentary mentions Gesualdo's use of tonality as a precursor of Wagner. O rly? Here's the overture from Rienzi...how tame, melodic and sane it sounds in comparison! But Wagner sure knows how to build the drama...makes me want to throw a cup of beer in the air at the end.
It's tough to find authentic Medieval/Renaissance music on YouTube that isn't the complete album, but just the first song here will give you an idea what I'm talking about. It's almost got a jazzy groove to it.
And finally, imo one of the most beautiful pieces ever written, Ravel's Pavane for a Dead Princess.
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Saturday, July 7, 2012
On "Lad Rock"
I have been terrible about updating here. It's my thoughtful blog, and I've been too swamped at work to have thoughts. That's what modern life will do for you.
But I saw a review today that said something to get me started: "The Roses stand accused of giving birth to a movement or aesthetic that would later evolve into Oasis, or The Libertines, or Kasabian; a lineage that (according to the argument) was backwards-looking, musically conservative, or that appealed to questionable notions of nationalism, tribalism etc." It isn't the author of the article that bothers me, mind you; it's actually rather insightful. It's that argument itself, which I'm all too familiar with, concerning the genre mislabeled "lad rock."
If we actually bother to listen to or watch these bands perform, it will become clear that the label has nothing to do with the music and everything to do with the audience. The Libertines seem like proper punks to me. 90% of Oasis songs are sentimental ballads - I guess they appeal to the football crowd in the same way that my dad's army buddies would get drunk and sing "You are my Sunshine." As for Kasabian, let's not even bring up the musical genius of WRPLA - I want to know how many times Tom will have to dance with an inflatable dinosaur, make little hearts with his hands and wear a Micky Mouse hat before he stops being called testosterone-fueled and arrogant. Oh, I suppose that the pillow fight in Lyon was testosterone-fueled...like many girls' slumber parties.
Actually, I love the writer of that article for saying this: "...let’s not even begin with the implicit classism that can be detected in a lot of that discourse." As a US resident who loves British bands, it's so painfully obvious. When I read negative things about Kasabian, 50% of them are really negative reviews of Kasabian's audience. And while some of it is justified (just what is up with throwing urine in the pit?!?) most of it reads like a classist screed. I really wonder if those critics who clearly want to seem cool and hipster by dissing Kasabian realize that they end up sounding like a 17 year old who wants to belong to the right clique.
It's funny, because here in the US Kasabian is a "cult band" that appeals to a completely different demographic. I'm a college professor, and a woman, and I love them. Trendy people, artists, intellectuals are into them. 99% of the US population wouldn't know a Midlands accent from Urdu, and have no idea that the Midlands are about as cool as Boise. The accents of Tom Meighan and David Cameron sound exactly the same to most of us. That kind of gives us a different perspective, maybe lets us see the music for what it is without all the cultural baggage.
I guess I'm a purist. My friend M argues that you can't divorce pop music from its context, that an artist's image and impact on the times are just as important as the music. Me, what I think about is that 200 years from now, what will survive is what is pleasing to the ear. We'll look at what's artistically important, and then go back to see how the context shaped it. That's how it is for literature, at least, with the exception of a handful of works that impacted the socio-political trends of the time (and weren't necessarily very good art - Sinclair's The Jungle comes to mind.)
But one thing is for certain. If you judge someone by the behavior of their fanbase, then Jesus is in real trouble.
But I saw a review today that said something to get me started: "The Roses stand accused of giving birth to a movement or aesthetic that would later evolve into Oasis, or The Libertines, or Kasabian; a lineage that (according to the argument) was backwards-looking, musically conservative, or that appealed to questionable notions of nationalism, tribalism etc." It isn't the author of the article that bothers me, mind you; it's actually rather insightful. It's that argument itself, which I'm all too familiar with, concerning the genre mislabeled "lad rock."
If we actually bother to listen to or watch these bands perform, it will become clear that the label has nothing to do with the music and everything to do with the audience. The Libertines seem like proper punks to me. 90% of Oasis songs are sentimental ballads - I guess they appeal to the football crowd in the same way that my dad's army buddies would get drunk and sing "You are my Sunshine." As for Kasabian, let's not even bring up the musical genius of WRPLA - I want to know how many times Tom will have to dance with an inflatable dinosaur, make little hearts with his hands and wear a Micky Mouse hat before he stops being called testosterone-fueled and arrogant. Oh, I suppose that the pillow fight in Lyon was testosterone-fueled...like many girls' slumber parties.
Actually, I love the writer of that article for saying this: "...let’s not even begin with the implicit classism that can be detected in a lot of that discourse." As a US resident who loves British bands, it's so painfully obvious. When I read negative things about Kasabian, 50% of them are really negative reviews of Kasabian's audience. And while some of it is justified (just what is up with throwing urine in the pit?!?) most of it reads like a classist screed. I really wonder if those critics who clearly want to seem cool and hipster by dissing Kasabian realize that they end up sounding like a 17 year old who wants to belong to the right clique.
It's funny, because here in the US Kasabian is a "cult band" that appeals to a completely different demographic. I'm a college professor, and a woman, and I love them. Trendy people, artists, intellectuals are into them. 99% of the US population wouldn't know a Midlands accent from Urdu, and have no idea that the Midlands are about as cool as Boise. The accents of Tom Meighan and David Cameron sound exactly the same to most of us. That kind of gives us a different perspective, maybe lets us see the music for what it is without all the cultural baggage.
I guess I'm a purist. My friend M argues that you can't divorce pop music from its context, that an artist's image and impact on the times are just as important as the music. Me, what I think about is that 200 years from now, what will survive is what is pleasing to the ear. We'll look at what's artistically important, and then go back to see how the context shaped it. That's how it is for literature, at least, with the exception of a handful of works that impacted the socio-political trends of the time (and weren't necessarily very good art - Sinclair's The Jungle comes to mind.)
But one thing is for certain. If you judge someone by the behavior of their fanbase, then Jesus is in real trouble.
Sunday, May 20, 2012
This might end up being very bad.
Round about 4th grade, I started to buy albums for myself. Well, technically speaking, the first album I ever actually owned was "Snoopy's Christmas," but that was bought for me because I absolutely loved anything to do with Peanuts. My first personal album purchase must have been early 1977 because it was an album called - pause to cringe dramatically - Hustle '76. It was an instrumental album of elevator versions of disco songs. And my second personal album purchase was the soundtrack from Saturday Night Fever.
Why am I even admitting to this?
You have to understand that my parents were playing the easy listening station. They were playing music that as a child I thought was absolutely awful. And really, Dean Martin is kind of awful. Did he leave a trail of slime as he walked? But Frank Sinatra is actually pretty cool, especially when you know some of the dramaz of his life. He wasn't a squeaky-clean pop phenom, ya dig? He had some authenticity to him. I love that word, that concept, authenticity. I'll talk about it a lot. There was also a lot of Gordon Lightfoot, who I loved, then hated, then reached a kind of peace with. And Roger Whittaker, who I loved, saw live, and later realized was insufferably pompous. (And I mistakenly typed Roger Waters into google - little different ahahaha.)
But my grandma had the tv on constantly - she was the kind of person who couldn't stand a quiet house. It was cable tv, which was spiffy and new back then. It was before MTV, before HBO even! But we could watch the television stations from New York City, which seemed to have the inarguable virtue of running Green Acres and I Dream of Jeannie reruns at all hours of the day. And the advertisement were always for these questionable compilation albums. I bought another one called Freedom which was basically 60s protest music, which at the time, I understood about as well as I understood the decadent sexuality of Cabaret. I wish I had that album now though - it had "All along the Watchtower" and "Candles in the Rain."
By 5th grade, we were allowed to play records during recess. It was sort of a status thing to get to play our records. I think I was precocious in my love of music - I had more 45s than anyone else. The rest of the class kind of hated me for it - but they hated me for lots of things. They hated me for being a smart kid, a teacher's pet. They hated me for my parents, who were very upwardly mobile, and snobs. This was something it took me a long time to understand. Class consciousness is pretty unconscious in American children, especially middle-class ones. They hated me because I was a strange girl, introverted and dreamy. We were in an alternative, non-graded elementary school. Basically, we weren't required to do anything. So I spent the entirety of second grade staring out the window, dreaming. Unlike my classmates, who spent the year learning long division. In fourth grade, I had a teacher who wasn't having any of that fancy, modern philosophy. She made me learn long division - in two weeks. This is why they hated me.
They still played my records, though.
Let me see if I can remember some of those tunes...I may have blacked a lot of it out though, due to trauma or embarrassment...some of my favorites were these atrocities: "Kiss You All Over," "Wham Bam," and "No Tell Lover." The last one was the last gasp, pretty much, of Chicago (well, no, actually YouTube reminds me that there were a lot of pretty sad written-by-the-numbers Chicago hits in the 1980s). Another early lp I bought was their greatest hits compilation. Some of that holds up pretty well...it's ironic though that as a child I listened to so much "adult-oriented rock," and as an adult, I'm mortified when one of my darlings, like Tori Amos, has a hit on the dreaded AOR charts.
Disco was still around, but not for long. Everybody's favorite song was "Le Freak." We also loved "A Fifth of Beethoven," but I'll leave that to the next post.
To my credit, I loved the gleefully silly "Ballroom Blitz." To my very great credit, I always thought that Kiss was absolute rubbish. But to my eternal shame, I missed the boat entirely on Queen. How could I not have bought a copy of "Bohemian Rhapsody," how? Insert pause to rent my garment and pull the hair from my head.
Playlist:
Snoopy's Christmas - I hate most Christmas music. It's so sappy, and the few pieces that are really lovely, like "Carol of the Bells" or "We Three Kings" get so overplayed that you come to loathe them. Nevertheless, I still love Snoopy. I suppose the karma of it all evens out.
Open Sesame - Of all the pieces on the Saturday Night Fever Soundtrack, this is the only one that doesn't make me want to throw myself through a plate glass window. It's funky and self-consciously ridiculous. I guess I have a soft spot in my heart for camp. Also, I can't help but think that this is what happens after a few too many lines of coke at Studio 54.
Last Farewell - omg, is this some kind of Hornblower fanvid ahahaha? Well, it could be a really beautiful song, and Whittaker has an incredible voice. But the arrangement is absolutely unforgivable. The "majestic" horns, the jingoistic drums, the insufferable chorus - it's like imperialism set to music.
The First Time - And as if to prove my point, here's an example of how an arrangement can make all the difference. Gordon Lightfoot does this old torch song stripped back and unplugged - absolutely gorgeous. Someone do the same for "Wicheta Lineman."
All along the Watchtower - At last, something I can endorse without my tongue stuck a little in my cheek. Absolute genius. And don't miss the clip which includes Jimi playing the guitar with his teeth...
Lay Down (Candles in the Rain) - It's like the soundtrack for the apocalypse. Somehow spiritual and spooky at the same time. And so much soul in her voice.
Kiss You All Over - Ohgodohgodohgod this is a sleezy song, and I'd never actually seen the band before watching this video and they are CREEPY. I'd tell you to avoid it, but it helps sometimes to know just how bad that bad can be. But if you want to go watch Jimi Hendrix again instead, I approve.
Beginnings - OK, yeah, AOR. Le sigh. But listen to the horns. Roger Whittaker, THIS is how you do horns, m'kay? Also, just wait for a sunny day, driving down the highway, and put this on.
Ballroom Blitz - They are wearing tulle and glitter pants. There are no words for the awesomeness of this.
Le Freak - I can't decide whether this is old skool cool, or really, really bad.
Bohemian Rhapsody - Let's end on a high note. There's a reason why this got 39 million views on YouTube. Why didn't someone make an opera of this? Better still, why didn't Queen just re-score every opera in existence?
Why am I even admitting to this?
You have to understand that my parents were playing the easy listening station. They were playing music that as a child I thought was absolutely awful. And really, Dean Martin is kind of awful. Did he leave a trail of slime as he walked? But Frank Sinatra is actually pretty cool, especially when you know some of the dramaz of his life. He wasn't a squeaky-clean pop phenom, ya dig? He had some authenticity to him. I love that word, that concept, authenticity. I'll talk about it a lot. There was also a lot of Gordon Lightfoot, who I loved, then hated, then reached a kind of peace with. And Roger Whittaker, who I loved, saw live, and later realized was insufferably pompous. (And I mistakenly typed Roger Waters into google - little different ahahaha.)
But my grandma had the tv on constantly - she was the kind of person who couldn't stand a quiet house. It was cable tv, which was spiffy and new back then. It was before MTV, before HBO even! But we could watch the television stations from New York City, which seemed to have the inarguable virtue of running Green Acres and I Dream of Jeannie reruns at all hours of the day. And the advertisement were always for these questionable compilation albums. I bought another one called Freedom which was basically 60s protest music, which at the time, I understood about as well as I understood the decadent sexuality of Cabaret. I wish I had that album now though - it had "All along the Watchtower" and "Candles in the Rain."
By 5th grade, we were allowed to play records during recess. It was sort of a status thing to get to play our records. I think I was precocious in my love of music - I had more 45s than anyone else. The rest of the class kind of hated me for it - but they hated me for lots of things. They hated me for being a smart kid, a teacher's pet. They hated me for my parents, who were very upwardly mobile, and snobs. This was something it took me a long time to understand. Class consciousness is pretty unconscious in American children, especially middle-class ones. They hated me because I was a strange girl, introverted and dreamy. We were in an alternative, non-graded elementary school. Basically, we weren't required to do anything. So I spent the entirety of second grade staring out the window, dreaming. Unlike my classmates, who spent the year learning long division. In fourth grade, I had a teacher who wasn't having any of that fancy, modern philosophy. She made me learn long division - in two weeks. This is why they hated me.
They still played my records, though.
Let me see if I can remember some of those tunes...I may have blacked a lot of it out though, due to trauma or embarrassment...some of my favorites were these atrocities: "Kiss You All Over," "Wham Bam," and "No Tell Lover." The last one was the last gasp, pretty much, of Chicago (well, no, actually YouTube reminds me that there were a lot of pretty sad written-by-the-numbers Chicago hits in the 1980s). Another early lp I bought was their greatest hits compilation. Some of that holds up pretty well...it's ironic though that as a child I listened to so much "adult-oriented rock," and as an adult, I'm mortified when one of my darlings, like Tori Amos, has a hit on the dreaded AOR charts.
Disco was still around, but not for long. Everybody's favorite song was "Le Freak." We also loved "A Fifth of Beethoven," but I'll leave that to the next post.
To my credit, I loved the gleefully silly "Ballroom Blitz." To my very great credit, I always thought that Kiss was absolute rubbish. But to my eternal shame, I missed the boat entirely on Queen. How could I not have bought a copy of "Bohemian Rhapsody," how? Insert pause to rent my garment and pull the hair from my head.
Playlist:
Snoopy's Christmas - I hate most Christmas music. It's so sappy, and the few pieces that are really lovely, like "Carol of the Bells" or "We Three Kings" get so overplayed that you come to loathe them. Nevertheless, I still love Snoopy. I suppose the karma of it all evens out.
Open Sesame - Of all the pieces on the Saturday Night Fever Soundtrack, this is the only one that doesn't make me want to throw myself through a plate glass window. It's funky and self-consciously ridiculous. I guess I have a soft spot in my heart for camp. Also, I can't help but think that this is what happens after a few too many lines of coke at Studio 54.
Last Farewell - omg, is this some kind of Hornblower fanvid ahahaha? Well, it could be a really beautiful song, and Whittaker has an incredible voice. But the arrangement is absolutely unforgivable. The "majestic" horns, the jingoistic drums, the insufferable chorus - it's like imperialism set to music.
The First Time - And as if to prove my point, here's an example of how an arrangement can make all the difference. Gordon Lightfoot does this old torch song stripped back and unplugged - absolutely gorgeous. Someone do the same for "Wicheta Lineman."
All along the Watchtower - At last, something I can endorse without my tongue stuck a little in my cheek. Absolute genius. And don't miss the clip which includes Jimi playing the guitar with his teeth...
Lay Down (Candles in the Rain) - It's like the soundtrack for the apocalypse. Somehow spiritual and spooky at the same time. And so much soul in her voice.
Kiss You All Over - Ohgodohgodohgod this is a sleezy song, and I'd never actually seen the band before watching this video and they are CREEPY. I'd tell you to avoid it, but it helps sometimes to know just how bad that bad can be. But if you want to go watch Jimi Hendrix again instead, I approve.
Beginnings - OK, yeah, AOR. Le sigh. But listen to the horns. Roger Whittaker, THIS is how you do horns, m'kay? Also, just wait for a sunny day, driving down the highway, and put this on.
Ballroom Blitz - They are wearing tulle and glitter pants. There are no words for the awesomeness of this.
Le Freak - I can't decide whether this is old skool cool, or really, really bad.
Bohemian Rhapsody - Let's end on a high note. There's a reason why this got 39 million views on YouTube. Why didn't someone make an opera of this? Better still, why didn't Queen just re-score every opera in existence?
In Cars
Music is the right thing to be happening when you're driving. It sets the pace, clears your mind, focuses your concentration. That's why they play it so often in the background at work - studies have proven it. I just don't get the attraction of the distracting things - televisions, cell phones, texting. Text while driving - are you mad? I can't even text while texting. It's odd, I'm usually an early adopter for most technologies, but I still barely use my cell, and resent the hell out of it. Why is being accessible at all times considered desirable? One of the world's best inventions was the answering machine...I love sitting there, listening to the message, having the power to decide whether I want to engage in the contact or not. I just don't understand my students, their attention pulled like a marionette by the still-audible buzz of the phone set on vibrate...
But I digress.
When you're a kid, you don't get to choose the music in the car, your parents do. When I was really young, and my parents were still in the hungry years, we listened to the radio. AM radio. I remember one road trip to York Beach, Maine...I couldn't have been more than five. I wasn't in school yet. The drive was like one long dream, watching the miles, sleeping in the back seat. I'm an introvert, so I wasn't really asking "Are we there yet?" I really liked the sensation of going somewhere unknown, with other people in charge. Now that I'm an adult, I'll never get that back. It was one of the few "carefree" things about a childhood which was mainly stress caused by pressure to get the best grades and stress caused by being teased about my good grades.
So anyway, that summer, pop music seemed to be obsessed with dogs - I remember the radio kept playing "Me and My Arrow" from that movie The Point. I loved the song and the movie as a child. As an adult, the song is just too treacle sweet. Dunno about the movie - haven't seen it in years. They also played "Me and You and a Dog Named Boo." Yeah, it's as bad as it sounds. Other car music from my early years..."Games People Play," and "Uncle Albert." Aside here - I've never really listened to Wings because everyone around me always bad-mouthed them, probably out of resentment for the breakup of the Beatles. Think I should give it a go.
As my parents moved up the social ladder, they had an 8-track installed in the car. Let's pause a moment to savor that - an 8-track! Worst format in the world, especially the bad track changing which always seemed to happen in the middle of a song. And then, in their typical style, my parents bought a metric shit-tonne (affectation here, but I think this word just cries out for a British spelling) of discount 8-tracks at a clearance sale, pretty much at random. We got, among other things, a tape called Switched on Bacharach, (punning off of "Switched on Bach") which was Burt Bacharach's greatest hits played on a moog synthesizer. Let's just savor the kitchy glory of this. We had a tape of Glen Campbell - dunno why, my parents hated country. I'm no fan of the genre myself, but some of those songs were really good, especially "Wicheta Lineman" which is melodically gorgeous and also more lyrically sophisticated than I expect from country. And we had the soundtrack from Cabaret. I had that memorized, down to the spoken bits, even though at that age I hadn't a hope of understanding the dark humor of "If You Could See Her through My Eyes" or the risque "Two Ladies."
A reflection - why do I still love "Hold Tight" and hate "Two Ladies"? They seem to be in the same sort of lighthearted burlesque genre. But "Two Ladies," to my adult ear, is just so damn annoying. Actually, most of the Cabaret soundtrack annoys me now, even though I loved it as a child. Somehow "Hold Tight" just seems to have a groove, a rhythm, and if I had the language to describe why that hits my sweet spot, I could probably make a mint on the next music search engine.
I think the only 8-track my dad ever paid full price for was a two tape set of Elvis' greatest hits. My dad loved Elvis. Say what you want about Elvis, but he was still a legend - the looks, the stage presence, the voice. In the era when I grew up, you had to be a songwriter to have any artistic credibility, but Elvis was a pop star. Better him than Bieber, eh? And also, he had better material to work with.
OK, for better or worse, here's the playlist:
Me and You and a Dog Named Boo - Listen at your own risk. I can't believe what I can find on YouTube!
Me and My Arrow - The clip is actually from the movie, not the radio version. Well, the song is pretty annoying, so maybe the less of it the better. And the movie is cute, and narrated by Ringo Starr - I didn't know that!
Games People Play - Wow, here's a version on vinyl...and the first thing I hear - crackle, hiss, pop!!!! Yes, I really don't understand today's love of vinyl. Having grown up with it, I know it's easy to damage and prone to noise. One of these days, I have to listen to some audiophile vinyl, to maybe convince me that it's better than digital. But the song...first time I've heard it in maybe 30 years, and it's awesome!
Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey - This is wonderful. If I were 20 years younger, I'd go take some drugs now.
What's New Pussycat - Well, this review/bootleg link says that Switched on Bacharach is probably one of the better moog albums of the genre - except for this song. But it's this song I remember best. You really gotta hear it. The only thing that could make it better would be if Martin Denny did bird calls.
Wicheta Lineman - I wish they would have axed the cheesy strings. But that chord change behind "searching in the sun for another overload" just gave me chills.
Two Ladies - This is such a clever bit of filmmaking that I can almost forget how damn annoying the song is. It might make an interesting post about how music that is perfectly wonderful in situ is absolutely awful out of the context of the original musical. And I know that legions of lovers of those kinds of soundtracks disagree with me.
Jailhouse Rock - You smiled, didn't you? Caught you smiling.
Re-Wired - and now for something completely different...my favorite song to play while I'm driving today. It's such a good car song that the official video even looks like a car advert - made by Monty Python, maybe. Rock on, doooods.
But I digress.
When you're a kid, you don't get to choose the music in the car, your parents do. When I was really young, and my parents were still in the hungry years, we listened to the radio. AM radio. I remember one road trip to York Beach, Maine...I couldn't have been more than five. I wasn't in school yet. The drive was like one long dream, watching the miles, sleeping in the back seat. I'm an introvert, so I wasn't really asking "Are we there yet?" I really liked the sensation of going somewhere unknown, with other people in charge. Now that I'm an adult, I'll never get that back. It was one of the few "carefree" things about a childhood which was mainly stress caused by pressure to get the best grades and stress caused by being teased about my good grades.
So anyway, that summer, pop music seemed to be obsessed with dogs - I remember the radio kept playing "Me and My Arrow" from that movie The Point. I loved the song and the movie as a child. As an adult, the song is just too treacle sweet. Dunno about the movie - haven't seen it in years. They also played "Me and You and a Dog Named Boo." Yeah, it's as bad as it sounds. Other car music from my early years..."Games People Play," and "Uncle Albert." Aside here - I've never really listened to Wings because everyone around me always bad-mouthed them, probably out of resentment for the breakup of the Beatles. Think I should give it a go.
As my parents moved up the social ladder, they had an 8-track installed in the car. Let's pause a moment to savor that - an 8-track! Worst format in the world, especially the bad track changing which always seemed to happen in the middle of a song. And then, in their typical style, my parents bought a metric shit-tonne (affectation here, but I think this word just cries out for a British spelling) of discount 8-tracks at a clearance sale, pretty much at random. We got, among other things, a tape called Switched on Bacharach, (punning off of "Switched on Bach") which was Burt Bacharach's greatest hits played on a moog synthesizer. Let's just savor the kitchy glory of this. We had a tape of Glen Campbell - dunno why, my parents hated country. I'm no fan of the genre myself, but some of those songs were really good, especially "Wicheta Lineman" which is melodically gorgeous and also more lyrically sophisticated than I expect from country. And we had the soundtrack from Cabaret. I had that memorized, down to the spoken bits, even though at that age I hadn't a hope of understanding the dark humor of "If You Could See Her through My Eyes" or the risque "Two Ladies."
A reflection - why do I still love "Hold Tight" and hate "Two Ladies"? They seem to be in the same sort of lighthearted burlesque genre. But "Two Ladies," to my adult ear, is just so damn annoying. Actually, most of the Cabaret soundtrack annoys me now, even though I loved it as a child. Somehow "Hold Tight" just seems to have a groove, a rhythm, and if I had the language to describe why that hits my sweet spot, I could probably make a mint on the next music search engine.
I think the only 8-track my dad ever paid full price for was a two tape set of Elvis' greatest hits. My dad loved Elvis. Say what you want about Elvis, but he was still a legend - the looks, the stage presence, the voice. In the era when I grew up, you had to be a songwriter to have any artistic credibility, but Elvis was a pop star. Better him than Bieber, eh? And also, he had better material to work with.
OK, for better or worse, here's the playlist:
Me and You and a Dog Named Boo - Listen at your own risk. I can't believe what I can find on YouTube!
Me and My Arrow - The clip is actually from the movie, not the radio version. Well, the song is pretty annoying, so maybe the less of it the better. And the movie is cute, and narrated by Ringo Starr - I didn't know that!
Games People Play - Wow, here's a version on vinyl...and the first thing I hear - crackle, hiss, pop!!!! Yes, I really don't understand today's love of vinyl. Having grown up with it, I know it's easy to damage and prone to noise. One of these days, I have to listen to some audiophile vinyl, to maybe convince me that it's better than digital. But the song...first time I've heard it in maybe 30 years, and it's awesome!
Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey - This is wonderful. If I were 20 years younger, I'd go take some drugs now.
What's New Pussycat - Well, this review/bootleg link says that Switched on Bacharach is probably one of the better moog albums of the genre - except for this song. But it's this song I remember best. You really gotta hear it. The only thing that could make it better would be if Martin Denny did bird calls.
Wicheta Lineman - I wish they would have axed the cheesy strings. But that chord change behind "searching in the sun for another overload" just gave me chills.
Two Ladies - This is such a clever bit of filmmaking that I can almost forget how damn annoying the song is. It might make an interesting post about how music that is perfectly wonderful in situ is absolutely awful out of the context of the original musical. And I know that legions of lovers of those kinds of soundtracks disagree with me.
Jailhouse Rock - You smiled, didn't you? Caught you smiling.
Re-Wired - and now for something completely different...my favorite song to play while I'm driving today. It's such a good car song that the official video even looks like a car advert - made by Monty Python, maybe. Rock on, doooods.
Friday, May 18, 2012
Earliest music memories
When you're a child, you're pretty much a prisoner of the music the
grownups around you play. In my case, as an "only" child (my brother was raised across the country from me), the primary influences were my parents and my grandmother. My parents played music constantly...my
father's family were all musical, all played an instrument and sang.
They were also working class and/or farmers. They loved the popular music of their times, rock and roll, big band, a smattering of country. My mother was from Germany,
business class, couldn't hold a tune, and saw music appreciation as a
sign of culture. And so there was sort of a dichotomy in my life
between the music my mother always played and led my father to
appreciate, and the music my father and grandmother played, which seemed
to have some genuine soul to it.
I was raised on opera and classical music, played the violin, and, well, with a few notable exceptions, really hated it. The funny thing is, I read every book on opera in the house and loved going to the opera - I loved the drama, the stories, the costumes. But the singing sounded to me - and does to this day - like whales using sonar to stun small fish before they eat them. I like orchestral music better, chamber music better still, but most of the orchestral music my mother loved did nothing for me (sorry, just can't get into Brahms and Rimsky-Korsakov), and really, Vivaldi sounds like something you play in the background of your fine dining experience.
Rare for the day, my mother was a career-woman, and so I spent a lot of time being looked after by my grandmother. She played the piano and let me sing - early favorites were "Purple People Eater" and "Piano Roll Blues." That's me, ready for my solo, in the photo. She also played an assortment of singles on her Victrola that seem more or less randomly assembled. For example, she had - I have no idea why - "Hey Jude" by the Beatles. This was another one I played a million times, almost as much as "Melody for Robin," or my other favorite, "Daydream Believer."
I loved the Monkees. We watched them on television all the time, bless their little manufactured hearts, and my grandmother even bought the album for me. I had an enormous crush on Davy Jones. I have to admit, when Tom Meighan did that tribute at the NME's, I got a little sniffly. Sue me. In fact, I still like the Monkees. They're everything pop should be - catchy, a little clever, and none too serious.
Back at home, there was my mother's classical music, a near-constant diet of "easy listening" in the background, and occasionally my dad's records. My dad's record collection makes just about as much sense as mine. He played lots of Harry Belafonte, now that I think of it. He had a compilation, four album set, "Greatest Hits of the 30s, 40s, 50s and 60s." There were a few pieces on that which I still love to this day, "Fever," by Peggy Lee and "Hold Tight," by the Andrew Sisters. "Fever" is just a totally sexy song. You can't possibly stay unhappy while listening to "Hold Tight." It's such a silly little uptune, with its risque little wink. He also had, but rarely played, several albums by Martin Denny, "Exotica," and "Quiet Village." Every decade or so, people realize that throwing cocktail parties with drinks that have little paper umbrellas in them is kind of fun, and then Martin Denny has a comeback. He is full of awesome. This is high camp raised to an art form. It isn't meant to be serious although the musicianship is spot on.
There were 1960s things, too. My mom had a record by a German vocalist named Katja Ebstein who apparently went to Eurovison more times than any other performer without actually winning. Way to go! I don't know who gave this to my mom, but I think she just played it because she wanted to hear a German voice every now and then. Katja and Nancy Sinatra...the covers of their albums impressed me with their perfect hair and their long legs wrapped in mod minis. My dad had Nancy & Lee, which is a really odd choice since he had nothing else by either Nancy Sinatra or Lee Hazelwood otherwise. I begged my dad to play it often, but he wasn't nearly as obliging as my grandmother. I loved "Some Velvet Morning" and "Sundown" especially. A few years back, I was delighted to find that I could download a copy of this album from emusic. I love it just as much, if not more, as an adult. As a kid, I had no idea how truly weird this album is...Nancy's cool, angelic voice and Lee's sexy, gritty bass concocting what could only be called country psychedelia. I've since looked up some of Hazelwood's solo efforts, and they are awesome. Yeah, I know, people who don't like country are supposed to think that the one country thing they have to have in their collections is Johnny Cash. Well, screw that. I'm telling you that Lee Hazelwood is just as brilliant, and a lot weirder. But don't just take my word for it...I have assembled a playlist.
Piano Roll Blues
Daydream Believer - I saw this clip when it first aired...
Fever
Hold Tight
Quiet Village
Er ist Wieder Da
Some Velvet Morning
I was raised on opera and classical music, played the violin, and, well, with a few notable exceptions, really hated it. The funny thing is, I read every book on opera in the house and loved going to the opera - I loved the drama, the stories, the costumes. But the singing sounded to me - and does to this day - like whales using sonar to stun small fish before they eat them. I like orchestral music better, chamber music better still, but most of the orchestral music my mother loved did nothing for me (sorry, just can't get into Brahms and Rimsky-Korsakov), and really, Vivaldi sounds like something you play in the background of your fine dining experience.
Rare for the day, my mother was a career-woman, and so I spent a lot of time being looked after by my grandmother. She played the piano and let me sing - early favorites were "Purple People Eater" and "Piano Roll Blues." That's me, ready for my solo, in the photo. She also played an assortment of singles on her Victrola that seem more or less randomly assembled. For example, she had - I have no idea why - "Hey Jude" by the Beatles. This was another one I played a million times, almost as much as "Melody for Robin," or my other favorite, "Daydream Believer."
I loved the Monkees. We watched them on television all the time, bless their little manufactured hearts, and my grandmother even bought the album for me. I had an enormous crush on Davy Jones. I have to admit, when Tom Meighan did that tribute at the NME's, I got a little sniffly. Sue me. In fact, I still like the Monkees. They're everything pop should be - catchy, a little clever, and none too serious.
Back at home, there was my mother's classical music, a near-constant diet of "easy listening" in the background, and occasionally my dad's records. My dad's record collection makes just about as much sense as mine. He played lots of Harry Belafonte, now that I think of it. He had a compilation, four album set, "Greatest Hits of the 30s, 40s, 50s and 60s." There were a few pieces on that which I still love to this day, "Fever," by Peggy Lee and "Hold Tight," by the Andrew Sisters. "Fever" is just a totally sexy song. You can't possibly stay unhappy while listening to "Hold Tight." It's such a silly little uptune, with its risque little wink. He also had, but rarely played, several albums by Martin Denny, "Exotica," and "Quiet Village." Every decade or so, people realize that throwing cocktail parties with drinks that have little paper umbrellas in them is kind of fun, and then Martin Denny has a comeback. He is full of awesome. This is high camp raised to an art form. It isn't meant to be serious although the musicianship is spot on.
There were 1960s things, too. My mom had a record by a German vocalist named Katja Ebstein who apparently went to Eurovison more times than any other performer without actually winning. Way to go! I don't know who gave this to my mom, but I think she just played it because she wanted to hear a German voice every now and then. Katja and Nancy Sinatra...the covers of their albums impressed me with their perfect hair and their long legs wrapped in mod minis. My dad had Nancy & Lee, which is a really odd choice since he had nothing else by either Nancy Sinatra or Lee Hazelwood otherwise. I begged my dad to play it often, but he wasn't nearly as obliging as my grandmother. I loved "Some Velvet Morning" and "Sundown" especially. A few years back, I was delighted to find that I could download a copy of this album from emusic. I love it just as much, if not more, as an adult. As a kid, I had no idea how truly weird this album is...Nancy's cool, angelic voice and Lee's sexy, gritty bass concocting what could only be called country psychedelia. I've since looked up some of Hazelwood's solo efforts, and they are awesome. Yeah, I know, people who don't like country are supposed to think that the one country thing they have to have in their collections is Johnny Cash. Well, screw that. I'm telling you that Lee Hazelwood is just as brilliant, and a lot weirder. But don't just take my word for it...I have assembled a playlist.
Piano Roll Blues
Daydream Believer - I saw this clip when it first aired...
Fever
Hold Tight
Quiet Village
Er ist Wieder Da
Some Velvet Morning
My music tastes...
It's brilliant, absolute genius: Tori Amos, Apparat, Ayria, B-52s, Bat for Lashes, The Beatles, Ludwig van Beethoven, Beirut, Bjork/The Sugar Cubes, Blondie, Cocteau Twins, Controller Controller, Dead Can Dance, Martin Denny, Peter Gabriel/Genesis (real Genesis, not that horrid Phil Collins thing), Florence and the Machine, Gogol Bordello, Jefferson Airplane/Jefferson Starship, Kate Bush (if this list were ranked instead of alphabetical, she'd be #1), King Crimson/Robert Fripp, Nancy (Sinatra) & Lee (Hazelwood), Nine Inch Nails, Yoko Ono, The Orb, Roxy Music/Bryan Ferry, Shearwater, Patti Smith, Sunday all over the World/Toyah Willcox, The Tea Party, This Mortal Coil, Trespassers William, The Velvet Underground, The Wolfgang Press, Yes/Jon Anderson
Good stuff: Abney Park, Alela Diane, Ellen Allien, Laurie Anderson, Fiona Apple, Art in Manila, Artemis, Autumn's Grey Solace, J.S. Bach, P.D.Q. Bach, Bauhaus, Beady Eye, The Birthday Massacre, Capercaillie, Cat Power, Clannad, Conjure One, The Cure, Delirium, The Doors, Feist, Gentle Giant, The Good, the Bad and the Queen, Gorillaz, The Grateful Dead, Imogen Heap, Janis Ian, Iron and Wine, Ivy, Love Spirals Downward/Lovespirals, Lush, Loreena McKennitt, Monkeybacon, The Moody Blues, Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, Pentangle, Pinback, Poe, Sepiamusic (although they're shot in the foot by the worst band name ever), St. Vincent, Steely Dan, Suede, Switchblade Symphony, Tame Impala, Twin Peaks Soundtrack/David Lynch, Universal Hall Pass, Utopia/Todd Rundgren, Richard Wagner, Xmal Deutschland
It's holding up over time much better than I expected: Adam and the Ants, Glen Campbell, Jon Michel Jarre, Gordon Lightfoot, Men at Work, The Monkees, Sade
I'm a little apologetic for liking: Chicago, The Cruxshadows, Elvis, The Go-Go's, Hawkwind, Shadowfax, Suzanne Vega, Waves Under Water
I'll love them forever for that one song or album: Berlin, CSS, Esthero, The Tiny, TV on the Radio, The Verve Pipe
I like this, but for some reason haven't checked out more of it: Beck, Black Uhuru, Blonde Redhead, Bob Marley, The Cowboy Junkies, Carlo Gesualdo, Miles Kane, Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan (but he has like four million albums!), King Sunny Ade (but he has like four million albums!), The Libertines, Ashley MacIssac, Joanna Newsom, The Pretty Things, The Rolling Stones, Seal, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Sufjan Stevens, The Zombies
I used to like this, but it seems kind of meh now: Anekdoten, Anglagard, Blind Melon, Porcupine Tree
This artist once was brilliant, but s/he/they went so far downhill that it makes me cringe a little: The Cranberries, Crosby, Stills & Nash (Neil Young is still cool though), Brian Eno (OK, he could never make me cringe, but that ambient shit puts me to sleep), Fleetwood Mac (but Stevie was always cool, even when she was too drugged to know what week it was), Heart (if we could just pretend that 80s bad stadium ballad, hairband Heart was another entity entirely, they would be in my genius list), Lene Lovich, Sarah McLaughlin (and I'm a little apologetic for it, too), Joni Mitchell (like Eno, she doesn't make me cringe, but I just can't wrap my head around jazz, Joni), The Police/Sting (Chris Martin, this will be you in ten years, I swear), The Pretenders, Simon and Garfunkel (OK, it isn't that simple, because what made them good is still present in Art Garfunkel's solo albums, and what made them bad was there right at the beginning), U2 (the giant lemon cringecringecringe but they are redeeming themselves - the last album rocked)
I feel somewhat inadequate for not liking this more: 93 Current, David Bowie, Johnny Cash, most Classical Music, Bob Dylan, Diamanda Galas, Joan Jett and the Blackhearts, Led Zepplin, Lustmord, Nirvana, Oasis, Pink Floyd, The Ramones, Rasputina, Radiohead (the unpopular opinion - I like Thom Yorke's solo stuff better), Talking Heads, The Verve
What was I thinking? ABBA, Pat Benetar, Cabaret Soundtrack, Paula Cole, Dan Fogelberg, “Me and my Arrow,” Saturday Night Fever Soundtrack (do I have to admit I owned a copy of this?), The Smiths/Morrissey (Actually, I know what I was thinking - I thought the Smiths were brilliantly tongue-in-cheek. When I found out they were serious, it was the biggest disappointment since I learned that Natalie Merchant was singing about "Weather" and not "Leather." The more I learn about Morrissey, the more I want to eat a big sirloin steak in front of him.)
This is my jam. Diss it, and I'll have to kill you: Kasabian. I freakin love Kasabian. Wanna make something out of it?
Introduction
This is a music blog, but it's not a music blog in the sense of you'll see reviews or anything like that. It's a blog about me, about my relationship to music, which is one of the real constants in my life, maybe the only thing that bridges the gap between my exterior life, and my introverted, interior self. It's both a carrier of memories and the soundtrack to the stories in my head.
I'm going to write about how music affected me personally, about concerts I have been to, artists, songs and albums I have liked, sometimes I'll post videos...sometimes it will be chatty and personal, other times it will be really technical, digging into the depths of why I like a song or artist. I'm going to be blunt about what I like and don't like...it is my blog, after all. But also I know that music is so personal that it can really feel like a gut-punch when someone disses your favorite artist. I apologize in advance...
I should say that I have really eclectic tastes. A lot of people say that they have eclectic tastes, but...well, no matter how much data I give them, services like iLike, Pandora and last.fm always recommend the wrong things. They think they should shovel up more of the same. I almost never want more of the same. I'm not quite sure why I'm drawn to what I like, and maybe this blog is a way of exploring that, among other things.
So my first post, after this introduction will be a list of artists that are somehow important to me, so that you can get some idea of what you are in for...
One last thing: the name of this blog, "Melody for Robin." How do I put it? It's the first favorite song I ever had, must have been when I was two or three years old. I remember watching it spin round and round on...now this dates me!...Grandma's Victrola. No, not a cool 1920's style wooden beauty with the horn, something like this thing. I must have been two or three, and I was always demanding it, although I called it "Melody Robin." I used to say, "Gramma, play Melody Robin!" I must have driven her crazy. And here it is.
Did you read the comments? "This B-side is almost certainly not Jody Miller. Record labels would sometimes place generic, unremarkable instrumentals on the B-side to make sure disc jockeys played only the A-side. Philles Records practiced this almost exclusively on their singles." And as an adult, I recognize this as basically a piece of elevator music. Yet I remember the tune, and I still think it's beautiful. And I can tell you that I never played "Silver Threads and Golden Needles," wouldn't have even been able to tell you that was on the other side of the record although that's the song Grandma probably bought! And also, as an adult, I've heard the a-side, and I loathe it. It's exactly the kind of sentimental pablum I detest. OK, Jody Miller fans hate me now, and I'm not even through my first post...
But I guess the point is that there is absolutely no accounting for musical taste. That is, real musical taste, not fake "I'm supposed to like it" taste - more on that later. You can't fake when a piece of music hits that sweet spot in the brain, when you feel a chill down your spine, when you gotta dance. And that the most "generic, unremarkable instrumental," can mean the world to somebody somewhere.
I'm going to write about how music affected me personally, about concerts I have been to, artists, songs and albums I have liked, sometimes I'll post videos...sometimes it will be chatty and personal, other times it will be really technical, digging into the depths of why I like a song or artist. I'm going to be blunt about what I like and don't like...it is my blog, after all. But also I know that music is so personal that it can really feel like a gut-punch when someone disses your favorite artist. I apologize in advance...
I should say that I have really eclectic tastes. A lot of people say that they have eclectic tastes, but...well, no matter how much data I give them, services like iLike, Pandora and last.fm always recommend the wrong things. They think they should shovel up more of the same. I almost never want more of the same. I'm not quite sure why I'm drawn to what I like, and maybe this blog is a way of exploring that, among other things.
So my first post, after this introduction will be a list of artists that are somehow important to me, so that you can get some idea of what you are in for...
One last thing: the name of this blog, "Melody for Robin." How do I put it? It's the first favorite song I ever had, must have been when I was two or three years old. I remember watching it spin round and round on...now this dates me!...Grandma's Victrola. No, not a cool 1920's style wooden beauty with the horn, something like this thing. I must have been two or three, and I was always demanding it, although I called it "Melody Robin." I used to say, "Gramma, play Melody Robin!" I must have driven her crazy. And here it is.
Did you read the comments? "This B-side is almost certainly not Jody Miller. Record labels would sometimes place generic, unremarkable instrumentals on the B-side to make sure disc jockeys played only the A-side. Philles Records practiced this almost exclusively on their singles." And as an adult, I recognize this as basically a piece of elevator music. Yet I remember the tune, and I still think it's beautiful. And I can tell you that I never played "Silver Threads and Golden Needles," wouldn't have even been able to tell you that was on the other side of the record although that's the song Grandma probably bought! And also, as an adult, I've heard the a-side, and I loathe it. It's exactly the kind of sentimental pablum I detest. OK, Jody Miller fans hate me now, and I'm not even through my first post...
But I guess the point is that there is absolutely no accounting for musical taste. That is, real musical taste, not fake "I'm supposed to like it" taste - more on that later. You can't fake when a piece of music hits that sweet spot in the brain, when you feel a chill down your spine, when you gotta dance. And that the most "generic, unremarkable instrumental," can mean the world to somebody somewhere.
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