Sunday, January 30, 2005

Revisiting Radiohead's "Kid A"

I'm in a good mood here because I just warmed up with Daft Punk's "Human After All". "Discovery" was a better EP, but the new album is a better LP. There's nothing as glorious as "Digital Love" or "One More Time", but back-to-front, it's a stronger (albeit more stoic and mechanical) album, with a second half that doesn't bore me to death. Give me the likes of "One More Time" on a CD single, but that POPOPOPOP approach failed over an LP's length -- if I'm going to listen to fifty minutes of Daft Punk, then I want my face pounded in with lots of "Da Funk"-y beats.

Now I'm listening to Kate Bush's "Hounds of Love", which seems appropriate because Kate, like Radiohead would do fifteen years later, challenged her fan base by throwing a bunch of abstract mood pieces and ambient noises at them in lieu of what they were used to hearing from her.

On this blog, I think I've already mentioned my "Second Opinion" pieces (which were written in old notebooks, mainly in the pre-blog days). They were reviews of albums that I hadn't heard in many years (e.g. Fine Young Cannibals' "The Raw and the Cooked") or albums that I had somehow never gotten around to hearing in full despite being very familiar with the band and many of their famous songs (e.g. The Beloved's "Happiness"). [note: Magnetic Fields' "Get Lost" didn't fit that bill, because I became acquainted with the songs quite recently]

"Kid A" is by far the most recent album that I've covered in this fashion. My "rules" are fairly simple -- I listen to the album straight through and write my comments in real time (although short pauses to play catch-up are fairly typical). Since I'm already familiar with the band (and in certain cases, the songs on the album as well), then I'm usually not stuck for things to write, so this "real time first impression" format tends to work. Clearly, I aim to go into these with an open mind and write as honestly as possible. Since there isn't any time to re-listen or re-evaluate while writing, the honesty policy also tends to succeed. So of course, as I write this introduction, I have yet to hear the album.

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I would normally start the review with an extended introduction about what the band meant/means to me, but in the case of me + Radiohead, little more needs to be said. To be brief: I haven't heard this album in over three years. Every time I tried to give it a chance, I was bored silly. I liked "The Bends" and enjoyed the singles on "OK Computer", but everything else on that album bored me to death. Now here they came with an album of "electronica" (three years after "electronica" was declared the Next Big Thing), busily name-dropping Aphex Twin and the rest of the Warp records posse, thereby impressing everyone who hadn't been listening to that label for the previous five or ten years. All right, so here we go ... !!!!

1. Everything In Its Right Place. This is a good start, but then again, this is the only song I remember liking on this album. As I recall thinking at the time, this is mainly because Thom Yorke sings an actual melody instead of just singing for the sake of hearing his own whining. Sorry, I'm supposed to be more open minded. If this song were released today, they'd get Fennesz to remix it and build it up proper. The noisy, gorgeous mess would drown out Yorke completely, making a good song even better.

2. Kid A. Hey, Autechre's "LP 5" was a great album, wasn't it? Radiohead certainly think so. Now let's throw in some beats, just for the hell of it. And sing something unintelligible while tweaking the levels on some filters, just because the knobs are there. Next.

3. The National Anthem. A bass/drums rhythm is a welcome change from the last five minutes of noodling, laying down a groove that wouldn't be out of place on an early Verve record. If this was my track, I'd lock onto this groove with an atomic clock and slide whooshy soundscapes continually in and out of the mix, not unlike the Peel Session that Stereolab recorded with Sonic Boom. Which is exactly what happens for the first minute or so, only to give way to a mixture of bad ("wow, I wonder what it will sound like if I feed my voice through this vocoder-like effect") and good (free jazz squawks and rapidly developing chaos while the groove plows full speed ahead).

4. How To Disappear Completely. Easily the most "OK Computer"-esque track thus far, but it's "album track" quality, not "single quality", which is to say, it's seriously lacking in quality. I think there's a fine little ballad lurking beneath all the knob twiddling. Obviously, this would have been a simple, "High and Dry"-like guitar ballad on any of Radiohead's other albums to this point, but since this is "Kid A", they felt compelled to drown it in spooky noises and rumbling strings. This is the equivalent of a melisma-obsessed R&B singer turning the word "love" into a 38-syllable word instead of just singing the one note written on the page.

5. Treefingers. Finally, a song on the album that I wouldn't change. It sounds like they did their homework and paid attention to "Selected Ambient Works II" and all those Eno albums. Very pleasant, in large part because it was just *there*, like all the best ambient music, and they didn't try to clutter it with new melodies halfway through, or vocals, or whatnot.

6. Optimistic. Now they're back to doing a more conventional rock song. I guess they wanted to leave themselves something to play live without having to make major adjustments to the studio recording. Unlike "How To Disappear Completely", they didn't clutter it for the sake of being a bit more experimental. The track didn't do much for me, but "OK Computer" fans would probably like it.

7. In Limbo ... is an aptly named song, as the gentle guitar melody seems to drift along from bar to bar. It's a lo-fi, spacey arrangement, and could probably be mistaken for something recorded on a humid day at dusk in someone's garage. This might be a good time to mention that I can't recall a single melody from any earlier track on this album, save "Everything In Its Right Place". I can remember the general feel of "The National Anthem" (loved the groove) and "Treefingers" (ambient tranquility), but otherwise, I remember hardly anything without looking at my notes. Why those tracks? I have an idea as to why; I think I'll save it until the album is over.

8. Idioteque. AFAIK, this is considered by many to be the standout track on the album. Musically, how could it not be? It's essentially lifted straight from Autechre's "Anvil Vapre", and you won't catch me saying a bad word about that. Unfortunately, I can't stand Thom Yorke's blasted falsetto, which to my ears, is completely out of place with the harder-edged feel of the music. Hang on, so the singer in an indie guitar band decides to sing on top of a generic "I Can't Believe It's Not Autechre" track, and suddenly his band gets credited with joining indie and IDM at the hip? Fuck this shit.

9. Morning Bell. Oh Jesus, now they're scavenging from Tortoise. At least they did a good job of it -- this song stands up to anything on "Millions Now Living Will Never Die".

10. Motion Picture Soundtrack. OK, I wasn't expecting the harps. I could talk about how that organ is reminding me of The Cure's "Untitled" (another final track that's a bit out of step with the album that preceded it), but let's get to the point. "Kid A" desperately wants to be an all-instrumental album of abstract IDM. If they'd stuck to that simple, streamlined goal, then this album would be a passable Autechre clone, indistinguishable from all the other Autechre clones. When they stuck to doing one thing, like the basic ambience of "Treefingers", or one straightforward, unidirectional concept like the "let's loop this nice melody over and over while piling some noise on top" of "Everything In Its Right Place", then the album succeeds. Now that the album has finished playing, those sorts of moments are the ones I remember (re: comments at the end of "In Limbo"). But the more complex arrangements smack of boys playing with their fun and complicated toys, pausing every thirty seconds to unnecessarily toss in a guitar or a bland vocal melody in the name of indie rock. And even THAT wouldn't be so bad if all the sounds on the album weren't so darned derivative of electronic artists who had been making superior-sounding material for the previous decade or even more.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to reset myself by listening to Warp's "Artificial Intelligence Vol. 1".

Thursday, January 27, 2005

The Great Destroyer has landed ...

... and judging from the reviews and comments on it so far, two distinct and opposite camps have formed.

-- those who love the album, and belive it is one of the best albums of Low's career.
-- those who love the quieter, more "classic"-sounding Low songs (e.g. "Death of a Salesman") but feel the louder, more aggressive songs are unwarranted or out of place.

Very interesting!

Tuesday, January 25, 2005

In Praise of The Magnetic Fields -- "Get Lost"

Among Magnetic Fields albums, this one is often cited as the runt of the litter. Many seem wary toward the lo-fi electro that they're peddling on "Get Lost". It's also accused of lacking the emotional sensitivity of the laid-back, alt-country "Charm of the Highway Strip". Or that it lacks the perfect pop sparkle of "Holiday". I'm not sure I'd strongly disagree with those last two statements, but I do think that the album's electronic bent tends to alienate the people who praise those albums so highly. "Get Lost" is full of metronomic rhythms; droning, distorted bass tones; and tremendously repetitive three-chord mantras that aren't too different from something you'd hear on Stereolab's "Peng". "69 Love Songs" had similar Velvet-y garage-rock moments ("Yeah! Oh Yeah!", "Meaningless", "When My Boy Walks Down the Street") but those are just a few examples among 69 -- most Magnetic fields fans wouldn't want to hear an entire album of songs like that, augmented by drum machines and with the distortion meter cranked up even higher.

Which is where I come in ... here's a record of three-chord minimalism; shimmering, lo-fi guitar fuzz, motorik rhythms, along with Stephin Merritt's baritone and his moaning tales of lost love and depression. Whoa, that's my dream album!

Famous. And the album leaps to life with a mesmerizing, propulsive drum beat. Three chords and this simple drum pattern are looped into a hazy, lo-fi infinity in a manner that Stereolab haven't achieved since "Laisser-Faire". Didn't think you could pogo around your house to The Magnetic Fields? Guess again. The lyric is a simple "please let me escape my hometown" plea, and is essentially a more optimistic version of "Smalltown", the overture to Reed & Cale's "Songs For Drella". Of course, Reed and Cale haven't boogied like this since "Sister Ray". It can only go downhill from here.

The Desperate Things You Made Me Do. The drum machine plays a straightforward disco loop, and Merritt sings a funny/sad song about wishing great pain on an ex-lover. Kind of like the Pet Shop Boys with banjos, but unfortunately, not nearly as good as the Pet Shop Boys with banjos would actually be.

Smoke and Mirrors. Not a great tune, but like everything else on this album, it just SOUNDS so wonderful. A dinky synth melody that would be right at home on Kraftwerk's "Radioactivity" album blends with a speaker-rattling electronic bass line to produce a swoonsome, pastoral song.

With Whom To Dance?. This is the sort of lyric that Merritt pulls off better than just about anyone else. It's a "Love and marriage isn't in the cards for me ..." song, and you'd expect the rest of that line to be "... so I'm resigned to being lonely forever" or "... so I'm gonna fuck anything that moves and ruin my life under the weight of its own hedonism". Except what Merritt actually gives us is "Love and marriage isn't in the cards for me, but what I really want is romance. I wanna dance with somebody". It's a bit paradoxical. When hearing this lone guitar strumming a heartmelting lullaby it's difficult, at first, to imagine this being anything but a sincere love song. It's kind of too bad -- it would have fit in wonderfully on the indie wedding party and serenading circuit.

You and Me and the Moon. More fast-paced disco goodness with the sort of videogame melodies that went out of style around of the time of Pac-Man. In 1983, this would have made great music for rollerskating birthday parties. Most wonderful melodic achievement in the song: stretching the word "moon" into eleven syllables.

Don't Look Away. This is one of those songs that ordinary Magnetic Fields fans (who are "Get Lost" hataz) would single out in order to pay a few compliments to this album. They'd say something like "it's one of Merritt's most effective ballads from this phase of his career". I think it's the weakest track on the album.

Save a Secret For the Moon. This is probably the closest this band will ever come to making a classic house track. Perfect tempo, sequencers pulsing beneath the hum of female voices, rave sirens, and restrained verses slinking into an anthemic chorus. Majestic.

Why I Cry. See comment for "Don't Look Away". Except this one's really quite good. Also, this is one of only two songs here that I can imagine fitting in with the sound and style of "69 Love Songs". The other is "When You're Old and Lonely".

Love Is Lighter Than Air. There is probably a really lovely ballad lurking under this song's electronic sheen. Much like "Smoke and Mirrors", its humming bass sounds magnificent, albeit partially obscuring a jangly Byrds-esque tune.

When You're Old and Lonely. This sparse, solo guitar ballad instantly recalls the solemn mood of about a dozen Drugstore ballads, and I can't get enough of those so this song is an easy thumbs up for me. And unlike the title suggests, this isn't a "let's grow old together" song, it's a "when you grow old and lonely then I'll be sure to call and laugh at you" song. Isobel Monteiro would be proud. She got to fantasize about cackling at her former lovers from beyond the grave in "The Funeral", but that was far more lighthearted than this. She also got to wish harm on her most recent ex in "I Know I Could". But Merritt's got her beat cleanly in both cases -- he's nailed the bitterness of "I Know I Could", but laughing at the old and helpless is far more cruel than laughing at the young and inconsiderate.

Village In the Morning. The tempo quickens into a harsh, organ-choked rocker and it remains thick and murky throughout. It would be the most powerful wall of sound on the album if not for ...

All the Umbrellas In London. The army of shimmering guitars is a jaw-dropping marvel. Everything else would be gravy after that. But the song has a lot more than just gravy, it's got a devastating tale of hurt and disorientation, twinkly glockenspiel solos, and an infectiously danceable beat.

The Dreaming Moon. Another three-chord mantra -- this album is bookended by them. Compared to "Famous", this one is more relaxed in tempo and the pacing of the vocals. But in both cases, the actual words are rather superfluous, as the song metronomically drives itself forward and deserves to last longer than it's far too short three-and-a-half minutes. "The Dreaming Moon" could go on for an hour. I know this because if you strip away the percussion, voice, and guitar then you're left with a drifting, haunting melody that's nearly indistinguishable from much of William Basinski's "The Disintegration Loops". It's a captivating finish to this underappreciated marvel of an album.

Sunday, January 23, 2005

Stylus Magazine's Top 50 Albums 2000-2004

Nice work from the Stylus crew, not too many surprises, particularly in light of ILM's similar list from five months ago (which is not unexpected, considering how many Stylus writers are regular ILM posters). The placement of Sigur Ros' "()" was the biggest shocker for me -- I mean, it's more than deserving of its spot, I'm just shocked that people are coming around and starting to realize it.

Interestingly, "Madvilliany" and "Blueberry Boat" pulled a switcheroo from the Best of 2004 list, Canadians were well represented with five picks (all in the top 35), and on a more personal note, I was glad to see "XTRMNTR" get so respect (#23, wow), particularly after all the mudslinging regarding its (much lower) placement on the ILM poll.

It's also time for me to listen to "Kid A" again. I haven't heard it in about three years, and watching it top yet another Best Of poll means that I've got to get some new perspective on it. Is it still as dreadfully boring as I remember? Hopefully I'll get to this in the next couple of weeks.

Friday, January 21, 2005

Karaoke? Karaoke ... Karaoke!

I was at a Chinese wedding this week, and we were about six courses into a fourteen course meal when the karaoke machine was started up in the restaurant where the banquet was held. The bride and groom encouraged everyone to sing, and hopefully I wasn't disrespectful by refusing (I was far from being the only one to do so) but singing at a wedding isn't really one of my strengths. I find it difficult to carry through with a karaoke performance, in large part because I can't keep a straight face during those exceptionally corny background videos.

Of course, many people are quite at home in front of a karaoke machine and a crowd. In a performance that transcended language barriers, one man sang a serious, operatic tune but did so in a mock comical manner (including generous usage of falsetto) that had many of us in stitches. There were a few ensemble numbers of Chinese pop songs, some Gershwin (a ballsy performace of "Summertime"), a Russian folk song (with lyrics transcribed into Chinese), and of course, the song which no wedding can be without -- "Last Christmas" by Wham (complete with video depicting solely summer activities).

Monday, January 17, 2005

It's been five long years and I love you just the same ...

I started this thing five years ago today -- wow. To celebrate, here's a top five list of the best posts in the life of this blog -- one for each year of its life.

Well, maybe I'm not aiming for the best moments ... the most representative moments, perhaps? These five posts, as a group, are a pretty good overview of the kinds of writing that have been "featured" here.

Year 1
It took about six months for the blog to start getting good, as the content progressed from brief observances, musical brainstorms, and half-developed ideas. Granted, that was the intent in those days (I had a notebook for more developed writing), but it doesn't necessarily make for entertaining reading a few years down the road. By the autumn I had finally figured out how to download and buy music over the internet, and on 12/09/00, having recently purchased music from Insound, I gushed about one of my favourite compilations ever.

Year 2
By now, I was no longer saving all of my best ideas for private notebooks, as partly evidenced by twice as much content in Year 2 as there had been in Year 1. My post on "The Red Thread" (April) has always been a favourite of mine, and I've probably re-read the 10/09/01 post more than any other from this year (even if it's not exactly a great piece of writing in and of itself), but the clear highlight is the 30/04/01 post about the end of 1050 CHUM, a radio station I grew up with, abandoned when it switched to an oldies format in 1986, and rediscovered as an adult. This post expressed my feelings about the outpouring of emotion concerning the second death of CHUM, which to my frustration, was being passed off as its first.

Year 3
I didn't focus on the blog as much this year -- the posts got longer, but I posted more sparingly. Making fun of Fleetwood Mac was tremendous fun, but I've got to highlight this anti-Radiohead post from 27/11/02. I think I still get more search hits from the terms "anti-Radiohead" than anything else.

Year 4
This one is a no-brainer. If there was ever a time to go out on a high note, the MUTEK diary (five days in May - June 2003) would have been it. I was having the time of my life and truly felt that I was witnessing something special each and every afternoon and night, and considered myself privileged to be writing about it. The end is a bit depressing (for a few different reasons), but don't let that get you down -- the fun begins here.

Year 5
I've written more in the last two years than in the first three combined (by far), and in the last year, spent more time thinking and reading about music than ever before. And it's not hard to figure out why -- I finally bought a computer! The computer also turned into a key music-acquiring tool, and as a result, I probably listened to more music this year than ever before, including one memorable stretch in which I listened to music for one week straight (13-19/05/04). The idea was conceived a few days earlier, and the experiment began later in the week.

Sunday, January 16, 2005

The links are up ...

... and it's not a very long list, but I wasn't intending for it to be a comprehensive list. It's more of my personal reading list -- the sites I read regularly, and the sites I read occasionally but want to read regularly (and now I have a link list that will hopefully prompt me to do so). All right, so why these particular sites? In most cases, they are primarily about music, or written by people with similar taste as me.

Also, they are being updated regularly. And of course, the author has a writing style I enjoy -- there are many blogs that are highly regarded by others, but for whatever reason, I can't into that person's style of writing (which means I can't see myself getting into the habit of regularly reading their stuff). Perhaps unsurprisingly, many of these blogs are written in a relaxed, conversational, storytelling style (as opposed to a more analytical, formal style that one might find in a proper journal) -- in other words, a style not unlike my own.

Thursday, January 13, 2005

Back in '83

I always get stuck watching these shows, even though they drive me nuts.

Sure, there were a lot of one-hit wonders in the 80's (probably not any more than any other decade, though), but once these sorts of shows finish squeezing the decade through their revisionist filter, all sorts of artists get lumped onto the one-hit wonder sticky ball, including many that are undeserving of the label. I'm willing to be lax with stuff like Flock of Seagulls, since their hair and clothes open them up to ridicule that is nearly unparalleled amongst these shows. But Thomas Dolby? What??

Despite my frustration, I'm watching to see the rest of the top five best and worst videos of 1983. Since I'm a list whore and all. (I missed the first fifteen minutes of the show, so the #5's must remain a mystery for now)

#4 Best Video: Talking Heads -- Burning Down the House. The voiceover narration harps on the song's bizarre lyrics, and the video's goofy choreography and nonsensical imagery. Somehow, all this adds up to being a great video. I don't get it either.

#4 Worst Video: Pat Benetar -- Love is a Battlefield. This is described as a concept video gone wrong. The bar scene, featuring Benetar and her friends spontaneously breaking into a dance routine in order to solve their conflicts, is singled out for being silly and illogical. Hmm, I guess these people haven't seen, oh, ANY MICHAEL JACKSON VIDEO.

#3 Best Video: Herbie Hancock -- Rock It. No argument from me, although why they feel the need to insult the technologically dated look of the robots is beyond me. Why not show clips of "Return of the Jedi" and make fun of the special effects there, too.

#3 Worst Video: Loverboy -- Hot Girls in Love. Not ten minutes earlier, they discussed Def Leppard in some sort of "Hot Hunks" category and praised their good looks and their videos. Apparently the fact that all mid-80's heavy metal videos are viewed as ridiculous these days (hell, even in those days) is lost on these people. In this light, the derogatory comments about Mike Reno's pants are a bit out of line.

#2 Best Video: The Ramones -- Psychotherapy. I've never seen this! It was banned by MTV, which might help to explain it (although Much Music has always been stingy when it comes to banning videos).

#2 Worst Video: Air Supply -- Making Love Out of Nothing At All. Yep.

#1 Michael Jackson -- Thriller. The illogical dance scenes! The bad lighting! The dated costumes and special effects!

#1 Styx -- Mr. Roboto. The bad lighting! The dated costumes and special effects! This was a big hit, although according to the narrators it's the song that destroyed the career of a once great and popular band. Sure, it doesn't make any sense, but are the song and video really any more coherent than, say, Duran Duran's "Union of the Snake"?

Saturday, January 08, 2005

The post-2004 roundup of 2004 releases that I never heard in 2004, dammit

It's certainly possible that there will be more of these roundups to follow. Hell, I should probably do them for some other years too. So here they are -- albums I got around to hearing only after everyone and their brother made their top albums list.

The Necks -- Drive-by. Not two minutes into this album, the comparisons to the self-titled TV Victor album had begun to swirl in my mind. That's not much of a surprise, since it's not like my shelves are overflowing with imperceptibly shifting jazz-ambient albums with sparse instrumentation consisting of tracks that are more than one hour in length. With "Drive-By", there is a bit more variation -- even building to a climax of sorts in the last fifteen minutes -- but both albums work best when you essentially stop listening to them, pausing every so often to pay closer attention and wondering, "hey, wait a minute, has the bass really been missing for the past six minutes"?

Adem -- Homesongs. Sometimes, I see bands play live and enjoy them very much, but can't compel myself to visit the merch table and buy their music because I've got a nagging feeling that I won't enjoy their music at home. I had that feeling while watching Adem. Live, my ears can squeeze every last drop of guitar reverb, hear the pristine clarity of a glockenspiel, stand shoulder-to-shoulder with a beer and a couple hundred other people, close my eyes, and hum along to caramel-like vocals. But at home, that music can't possibly jump from the speakers so vividly, and you find yourself listening to some blasé alt-country while staring at the grey skies outside.

Except that didn't happen this time.

Erlend Øye -- DJ Kicks. Technique-wise, this mix is nothing special -- in particular, Øye makes several fast cuts, not even bothering to beatmatch. I like my mixes to sound more like mixes than compilations, but Øye's intent is to combine his eclectic tastes with his casual, almost droll vocal style, and by that measure, this album is certainly a success. The clear peak is the chanting of the lyrics to "There Is A Light That Never Goes Out" over the dark house of Royksopp. It's a combination that would make Morrissey plotz should he ever hear it, but Øye's deadpan delivery gives this segment of the mix a stoic beauty which works exceedingly well.

The Go! Team -- Thunder Lightning Strike. Three tracks in, and I was sure that the joke wouldn't last. Surely, the carnival atmosphere would grow tiresome as the album wore on. But against my intuition, I started enjoying it even more as the album progressed.

Still, there was no way I could continue to like anything that was so upbeat. The album was perhaps the happiest thing I'd ever heard. There's no way I'd be able to tolerate that. Impossible.

I'm pleased to report that my Go! Team sugar high has yet to wear off. This is no accident, the joke isn't getting any less funny, I've heard it too many times now. This album is brilliant. One of these days, I will dare myself to listen to "Everyone's a VIP to Someone" without cracking a smile. Many people liken this album to big beat, but I hear a zanier version of Manitoba's "Up In Flames".

Fiery Furnaces -- Blueberry Boat. This album just isn't happening for me. I've heard so much about how wild and unpredictable it is, but for the OCD freak in me has the Deerhoof album instead. All the Brian Wilson comparisons prepared me for an album bursting with multiple melodies colling on each track like on "SMiLE". That does happen, but the madcap effect isn't the same when they're stretched out across eight minutes instead of three. I was expecting more of a racket, but the ones hear are too few and far between, and hardly worth the wait.

The Streets -- A Grand Don't Come For Free. Normally, lyrics just wash over me for the first three or four listens, after which they finally start to sink in. However, knowing what I was in for with this album, I made the extra effort to pay close attention. My mind got a bit lost at times, as I reverted to my usual routine of hearing only the music, but I felt it was a good effort for me overall. This is a fascinating album, full of lyrical twists, off-kilter rhythms, and at times, remarkable poignancy ("Dry Your Eyes"). Also, the fact that I already knew how the story ends didn't diminish my enjoyment at all.

Gold Chains and Sue Cie -- When the World Was Our Friend. Regrettably, the tremendous vocal prescence from their live shows doesn't carry over to the album. The vocals are tamer and more buried in the mix. Fortunately, when you've got Vladislav Delay and AGF helping with said mix, it's going to sound thick and heavy, with plenty of punch. Between those two elements, let's call this one a draw.

Friday, January 07, 2005

Haloscan commenting and trackback have been added to this blog.

[more bookkeeping: links list to follow soon. Having a links list will certainly make me read other people's blogs with more diligence and regularity than I have been doing otherwise]

Sunday, January 02, 2005

"The Great Destroyer" is a mender, not a destroyer

I paid for my New Years Eve indulgences by suffering for most of New Years Day -- I was sicker than I have been in about three years. Much of the day was spent in a state of fatigue and recurring flashes of nausea. Obviously, there was no choice but to ride it out. Much Music proved to be the best way to pass the time. Reading required too much thinking, but watching Much's top videos of the year provided a nice mix of good tunes and the occasional slice of eye candy (during the times I was able to lift up my head). Of course, I had to make a point of averting my eyes for Blink 182's "Always" (good song, but I couldn't even think of watching the video in my condition), and would have flipped the channel when they showed Billy Talent had I had the strength to do so.

Fromage 2004 (aired several days ago but I hadn't seen it until today) brought the laughs, but unfortunately, laughing produced motion of the body which begat nausea. In particular, Ed's roasts of the Beastie Boys and Alicia Keys helped to brighten the day, even if they hastened the times between trips to the bathroom. I don't think the Beasties will be attending the MMVA's again, that's for sure.

Finally, I'd had enough of trying to function. I put "The Great Destroyer" on random play (starting with "Broadway"), stretched out on the bed, and worried about nothing other than improvising new harmonies during the masterful final few minutes of the song. Singing, sighing, and humming along to that song as the music lurches along with its ever-growing crescendo is one of my most cathartic music-related activities in recent memory. Even though it's a more chaotic, unhinged record than anything else in Low's back catalogue, the effect on me was nothing short of head-to-toe contentment and relaxation. Nearly an hour later, I was fine. My stomach no longer ached, my head was clear, and my nausea had vanished. Sure, it was 5PM by that point, and these things have a tendency to go away by themselves that late in the day, but I'll hear none of that talk -- the Low album cured me!