#18

Hi, My Name Is Not Conor Oberst

I'm writing this while listening to the new Bright Eyes song "Shell Games" from their forthcoming album The People's Key. It's strange to hear how Conor Oberst has changed from a drunk, drugged-out, teenage twenty-something to a well-adjusted, reinvented, adult-like thirty-something. I can't even get past the two minute mark. I think I speak for all of us when I say I liked him better when he was sad and sappy and almost ready to kill himself. Perhaps this is what made Elliott Smith so great. People probably knew his suicide was inevitable and the fact that he actually went through with it made him even greater. Same with Cobain. They went out on a high note. Oberst on the other hand is like the Brett Favre of the indie industry. He just won't go away. And I'm sorry for using a sports reference, but I can't think of anyone else that has prolonged the ending of their career. Even Conor's newer projects (Mystic Valley Band, Monsters Of Folk) are pathetic attempts at reinvention. My apologies to the other members of both bands, you don't deserve to be dragged down with Conor into his own inferno of 4.9 Pitchfork ratings that most of the internet community scoffs at, yet secretly pay attention to.

My point is this: It doesn't matter what you try to do to rekindle that younger flame. You can do side projects, join a different team, or star in your own spin-off that was doomed to fail from the get go. If the people say you're done. Then you're done. Which brings me to this blog. I am not done. No one has ever said, "Nick, don't bother writing anymore, no one is reading." Granted my only readers are my friends and they're obviously not going to tell me to stop, just like I'm sure Conor's friends have given him praise and have told him to keep writing when he's down on himself and considers killing his career. The difference is that I'm not out to make a buck with this blog. Yes, I care that people read and give their feedback, and yes I would love to write for a living. But do I care that it makes me money? No, I don't. Which is another reason why I don't like 90% of music currently playing on the radio. They don't make the music for the love of the art. They do it for the paycheck. And to me, Conor Oberst has become the Nickelback, Creed, and Staind of the indie music world. It's hard to say no when the dollar sign says yes.

We need something new. Something we've never heard.

This road has been forever. My feet are tired from walking it for so long. The twists. The turns. The bumps. I had to find a shady spot under a tree and rest, which is why this blog fell into ruins. But I'm back up and I'm coming back to it now like it was a home I used to live in. Everything is covered in moss and there's a dampness to everything. The wood is rotting and the paint has peeled away. I could feel bad about all of this, but I'm done feeling sorry for what I've done. It's time to accept it and move on. I'm going roll up my sleeves and clean it all up. It's not going to be bigger and better than what it was before. It will be less. Less is always more. You'll see. I will show you.

For this 5SIAR I'm picking songs that I have only heard for the first time. Some unknowns. Some castaways. All of them are must listens which is why I'm putting them on here.

"Vehicle" - The Ides Of March

Yet another band using the automobile as a metaphor for falling for someone. The Boss does it better though, obviously.

I've been procrastinating writing this post. It's not my fault though, I'm going to school again. Hold your applause, please. As much as it is exciting to traverse through unknown subject matter on the coattails of a measly government grant, it is also mildly terrifying in the way I remember feeling on my first day of elementary school. As I explained it to someone today - It is a leap of faith. It is this new experience that gave me the idea of this new 5SIAR. New territory. Fresh ground, or, at least fresh from my perspective.

I found this song over the holidays whilst spreading Christmas cheer by joining the other thousands of people in my town to what I call our new civic duty as Americans: shopping. Nothing says "dashing through the snow" like a wild herd of consumers stampeding each other to get the hot item of the season. My item was a vacuum cleaner for myself. No, I don't like buying "stuff," but I do need to keep my apartment clean. So as I'm "dashing" I decide to give the radio a listen to find some music to get me into the spirit of things and instead I find this song. Sorry Bing, you didn't make the cut.

Have you ever heard a person on the phone without previously meeting them and pictured in your mind what they may look like? That's exactly what happened when I listened to "Vehicle." I immediately had visions of this giant funk supergroup lead by a George Clinton wanna-be with a backing band that rivaled Parliament or Funkadelic or Parliament Funkadelic. That is to say I thought they were all African-American. Then, as I'm beginning to write for this section of 5SIAR, I go on Youtube to see these cats play and to my surprise they are all white. Like, Barry Manilow white or Rod Stewart white. It's not a big deal obviously, which is why I'm not going to linger on this point. But it did have an iota of shock value considering that all of the funk groups I have known throughout my music listening adventures have always been of African descent. Which brings me to another point. White people aren't very funky. They like to emulate the sound made by Motown and Stax in the 70s, but do so without the required soul. And KC & The Sunshine Band do not count, so don't even try.

"Vehicle" may not be the greatest song ever, but it's what I needed at the time. Something new to hold on to even for a few minutes. Aren't most songs like that though? Every once in a while there's a hit. And I'm not talking about a Top 40 Casey Kasem hit. I'm talking about finding a song that's left of the dial. Something you've never heard before, yet suddenly fall head over heels when you first listen. Those are hits. They make an impact. It's almost as if being at sea for months and miraculously finding land. You drop anchor and then begin to explore and then you realize years have gone by and you have all this new knowledge in which to share with other people. I think that is another reason why I started this blog. I've amassed so many memories linked to music that it was about time I started sending some of the messages containing information back home. And sometimes, people are like those kinds of songs too.

"You Better Know" - Witch

To me, the best part of a year ending is all the "year-end lists" that are dispersed onto the interwebs. Best Music of 2010. Best Movies of 2010. Best Books of 2010. And, to my personal delight, Best Music Websites of 2010. Wait, you mean there are others out there beyond the thick walls Pitchfork has wrapped around everyone? Yes, yes there are, and may I say that the lesser known ones (at least to me) have more to offer in the way of not only discovering new music, but old music as well. Out of the Best Music Website list I found one that I immediately fell in love with. Her name is Aquarium Drunkard.

Everyone should be on this website on a daily basis, if not for the new posts, but for the back catalog as well. There is a ton of music on there, new and old, that is waiting to be heard. Witch, for example. This quintet from Zambia deserves to be heard, which is why, of course, blogmaster Justin Gage presumably posted the lead title track from Introduction which is simply the members jamming and the singer introducing the members of the band. That song drew me in enough to download the entire album and upon listening to it track 3, "You Better Know", stuck out. You can really tell that these guys loved the Stones and wanted to pay homage to them by creating an album of blues-rock and psyche. Which goes to show you that even back then bands were already sounding like other bands of their time or before their time. This has been a hot topic in my group of friends for a while now since most of the newer indie bands sound just like bands from the 60s, 70s, and 80s. People feel that there is no originality anymore. I can see how someone might think that, but it is a very narrow view of the entire spectrum of music that exists.

So, even new is old, and old is new. To me at least. I feel being completely original in modern times is a Catch-22. How can you write songs now that sound nothing like what you may have already heard? There is always going to be influence from some other artist that exists or has existed. There is no logical way around it. When you listen to music you prescribe to every part of it. It becomes a part of you whether you want it to or not. A song you heard years ago may affect a mood you have today. We remember everything even if we don't consciously know that we do. So I can't really hold it against the artists of today creating music that may sound close to what they heard 20 years ago.

"Funnel Of Love" (at 33 RPM) - Wanda Jackson

Yet another great find from the previously mentioned website Aquarium Drunkard. This song from Wanda Jackson, the queen of Rockabilly, was slowed down to 33 RPM to reveal that changing the song's playing speed puts it in a completely different genre. Instead of the mid-tempoed rockabilly with a raspy voice it becomes a slowed down psychedelic track with a baritone hook from the backup singers. Creepy.

After listening to this track and doing some further research on Ms. Jackson I discovered that she is releasing a new Jack White produced album that is being released on his Third Man Records label. I'm anxious to hear how that might sound. Jack is also known for breathing new life into country legend Loretta Lynn with her Jack White produced album from 2004, Van Lear Rose. Their song together, "Portland, Oregon", is a good one. That is if you're into a more classic kind of country like I am. I'll take Patsy and Emmylou over any of the current pop-saccharined stars any day of the week.

After listening to "Funnel Of Love" at 33 RPM I've decided to search out more tracks that have been slowed down. Supposedly there's a 33 RPM version of Neko Case's "Deep Red Bells" floating around the internet somewhere. Still haven't been able to find it though. If anyone runs into it during their travels can you please send it to me. Thank you.

Slowing songs down also reminds me of a Ween album a friend had me listen to during his tenure on my couch this past summer/fall. Pretty much all the songs on the album could either be listened to at 33 or 45 RPM. There should be more albums like this and I'm surprised there aren't considering all of the experimental electronic bands out there always wanting to push the envelope with their sound. I could see Animal Collective doing something like that. Or maybe Dan Deacon. I'll stop name dropping now.

"I Don't Know" - Lisa Hannigan

So the other night at work a co-worker walked over to my desk and asks me if I've ever listened to Lisa Hannigan.

"Who is that?"

"You know, the chick that sings with Damien Rice sometimes."

I didn't know. And while I wasn't shocked to hear this person talk about Damien Rice, I was however shocked that he took the time to do his research to find out who the lovely lady was that sings with Rice on most of his songs including the haunting (and personal favorite) "9 Crimes", which was something I've never done. Needless to say I immediately went on Youtube to find some of the music of this Irish songstress. My first click was this video from the song "I Don't Know" from Hannigan's debut solo album Sea Sew recorded inside an Irish pub.



Hannigan and her band sit inside a tiny box of a room reserved for musicians that come and play. A unique concept since these old pubs do not have jukeboxes. It gives the patrons something to listen to without having to worry about the music being right in front of their face - like being in front of a stage - and therefore too loud. The performance and setting are perfect. Even the old curmudgeonly bartender seems to be enjoying himself. Am I right?

So now I've been listening to Sea Sew non-stop lately. That's what happens when I find something new and love. I play it out. I wear it out. I obsess over it. It's a bad habit when it comes to life I think. I don't give anything a chance to evolve naturally. I use and use and use till it is dull and wants nothing to do with me. Yet another new year's resolution of mine I suppose, which is: leave some breathing room. Life needs air.

I appreciate being surprised with new music. I appreciate it even more when this something new comes from someone that I wouldn't expect to give me a good music suggestion. I'll admit I'm a bit of a snob when it comes to people suggesting new music for me to listen to. New or old. I love the look on someone's face when they try telling me to listen to someone whom I've already heard and decided they were terrible. they look so hopeful. I don't want to be an asshole, so I just nod my head and say, "Sure, I'll check them out." But obviously I don't. Who am I to judge someone else because of their taste in music? Sure, it may suck, but by that philosophy, the other person may think my taste in music is terrible too. Which is fine. But I think we all know who the winner is here. Okay, I'm an asshole.

"The Devil" - PJ Harvey

I have a love/hate relationship with Polly Jean Harvey. Let me first say that my favorite album from this past decade was Harvey's Stories From The City, Stories From The Sea. My adulation for this album is limitless and it would obviously make it on to a desert island top 5 list. A track is never skipped when I dedicate myself to listening to the album, and the song "Good Fortune" makes it onto pretty much any mix I make for someone. However, I've never been able to really get into her other albums. The only reason I ever listened to To Bring You My Love is because of MTV's push of "Down By The Water". Granted, this was during the time people actually paid attention to MTV to give them their dose of what to like in the 90's music scene. A lot of grunge, alternative, and the occasional episode of 120 Minutes when I remembered to set the VCR to record on Sunday night. Does anyone even know where Matt Pinfield is now?

I have never listened to Dry or Rid Of Me either, and I feel a little embarrassed about that. I enjoy Is This Desire? from time to time and I feel the folky Uh Huh Her is sub-par except for the songs "Who The Fuck?" and "You Come Through". I know SFTC, SFTS is her most accessible album and therefore makes me a poser to think that it's better than any of her other releases, but this is why I have vowed to acquire Dry and Rid Of Me so I can listen to her entire catalog straight through. Which brings me to her most recent album, White Chalk - a dark and brooding LP with songs written on the piano instead of the guitar. Yet one more Harvey album I decided to skip over and never listen to because it wasn't SFTC, SFTS. Don't judge me.

White Chalk was more unknown territory to me and I felt that at this point why should I bother listening to it. Sure, I love the piano. Tori Amos was, and still is, a love of mine. I just recently delved into more of Harry Nilsson's recordings after watching the documentary Who Is Harry Nilsson? (And Why Is Everybody Talkin' About Him?). And I grew up listening to a lot of Billy Joel. So it's not like the piano and I have never been previously introduced. But, again, I refused to spend any time with White Chalk. I decided to change that after a friend had suggested to revisit the album. Now, I can't say that I really enjoy it. In fact, even as I'm writing this I'm listening to Is This Desire? and not White Chalk.

Harvey will be releasing her new album Let England Shake here in the states on February 15. I'm already weary of hearing all of it, but the first few tracks that have been released online are promising.

I still do not feel any connection or need to listen to White Chalk. Yes, I'm contradicting myself since I said at the beginning of this post that these songs are "must listens". I guess this proves that even the new songs are tired songs, just like Oberst's. I chose track one, "The Devil", only because I've recently made a new mix of track ones, and, well, I have homework I need to do. The track list is as follows:

1. "Gotta Get Up" - Harry Nilsson
2. "Two Of Us" - The Beatles
3. "Allentown" - Billy Joel
4. "Pink Moon" - Nick Drake
5. "Learning To Fly" - Tom Petty
6. "Caught In A Dream" - Alice Cooper
7. "Watch That Man" - David Bowie
8. "The Queen Is Dead" - The Smiths
9. "Thunder Road" - Bruce Springsteen
10. "Tangled Up In Blue" - Bob Dylan (A live version from Bootleg Vol 5: The Rolling Thunder Revue which I think is better than the version on Blood On The Tracks)
11. "Private Eyes" - Hall & Oates
12. "What's Goin' On" - Marvin Gaye
13. "Wouldn't It Be Nice" - Beach Boys
14. "Sunday Morning" - The Velvet Underground
15. "Teen Age Riot" - Sonic Youth
16. "Gimmie Shelter" - The Rolling Stones
17. "Let's Go Crazy" - Prince

If you would like to have this mix then feel free download it here.

The reason why we have new songs is because of evolution. Take for instance, this blog. I went from talking about something stale (Conor Oberst) to something I decided to put together (my track 1's mix). Another reason why when we consider music, sometimes we need to go backward before we go forward. We, as listeners, crave something new even if it is something old. I don't think I will ever get tired of someone talking about older music because it will always be new ground to me. I've grown tired of checking Pitchfork every day when I get on the computer in the morning. I would like someone to talk to me about music face to face instead of just reading it on the screen. I want that connection. Because more than likely, even something old will be something new to me. I like new music. And I also like the people who show me this music.