Ordinary language is all right.
One could divide humanity into two classes:
those who master a metaphor, and those who hold by a formula.
Those with a bent for both are too few, they do not comprise a class.
Sheesh, I think "Do Fries Go With That Shake!?" is 20 minutes long.
I mean that in a good way.
It's kind of a pain to find lyrics for "Uptown" because Prince sued a fanzine by the same name as part of his ligation kick, but then again I guess finding them doesn't help me because they leave vague what exactly the connection is supposed to be between the song and the section of Minneapolis, which is also where the album (Dirty Mind) was recorded. I was hoping for some more definite clue - as it currently stands, Uptown seems a little too safe-boho gentrified to exemplify the kind of open place the lyrics celebrate. But it's been twenty years. And despite the local connection, "Uptown" as a name has all kinds of other associations Prince may have been relying on anyway.
Partial list of things I reckon I might include on a year-end list if I make one. (If it's not on here, maybe I just forgot I liked it.)
Mogwai, Rock Action. Avalanches, Since I Left You. Miles Davis, The Complete In a Silent Way Sessions. Jay-Z, The Blueprint. Bonny 'Prince' Billy, Ease On Down the Road. Radiohead, Amnesiac. Low, "Laser Beam". Dave Holland, Not for Nothin'. Spiritualized, just one song maybe. Burning Airlines, "The Surgeon's House". Thelonious Monk, Live at the Jazz Workshop. Shipping News, "Actual Blood". American Analog Set, "Two-Way Diamond I / II / Don't Wake Me (live)". Kardinal Offishall, "Maxine" and maybe some more. Roots Manuva, a song or two. Basement Jaxx, Rooty. Labradford, Fixed::Context.
See, this is why I hate year-end lists. Where is Kompakt Total 3 supposed to go? Or Beethoven's Op. 132?
More pointlessness, less pointlessnesslessness.
Things I played for my parents while driving around the Twin Cities in their car:
Coltrane, Ole. Mouse on Mars, Niun Niggung. Beta Band, s/t. Al Green, Greatest Hits.
Things I did not play:
Jay-Z. Dr. Dre. Fugazi. The Magnetic Fields. The Dismemberment Plan.
Blankness. Maybe that's a suitable subject for something about "Twenty". In truth there's a lot going on, even from the beginning if the first five minutes of burbling and bass thumping counts as the "beginning". But let's gloss over that. "Twenty" drifts along on slowly evolving burbling and bass thumping and then watery digital-clear Morricone guitars and twwzrrrtchchrrrp and woosh noises, and because it's slowly evolving (if that's even the right word: maybe better - things happen, and then other things happen; sometimes some of the things keep happening when other things happen, and sometimes they don't - this remains to be seen though) it's like blankness, like when you're laying on the couch, not sleeping, no TV, just laying, your mind drifts slowly, sometimes thinking about the same thing for three minutes, sometimes having a new thought.
No no no no no. There's a difference between boring and blank.
And anyway the bass thumps (what a terrible word for them, they don't especially thump, but they're so measured and low that they need a special name, and not "pulses") are propulsive enough that if nothing's happening, it feels like it's happening fast. Relatively speaking.
I'm trying to write about at least one song every day now.
So, here it goes.
Mail from Jon:
Tommy Flanagan died this past weekend. You should listen to Giant Steps sometime this week.
Yes, yes I will.
I sort of wish these two didn't write so much (they both have sites elsewhere), just because it makes me feel guilty about not writing enough.
What I have been listening to to go to sleep lately (incomplete list):
Boards of Canada, Music Has the Right to Children. Labradford, Fixed:Context. Kid606, PS I Love You. Miles Davis, The Complete In A Silent Way Sessions (Disc 2). John Coltrane, Crescent. Goldfrapp, Felt Mountain.
Listening to the Boards of Canada tonight because I noticed it laying in the living room and realized I hadn't heard it in a while. I've listened to this a lot in many places, particularly my last two apartments. So why don't I have any place associations with it?
"Twenty" is the longest song on Fixed:Context, so it's not surprising that it's the song I wake up to most often. I have problems setting the volume on this CD: the Morricone guitars are distracting when I'm trying to go to sleep (Alexandre said in a recent email that they added drama at the live show he saw, which seems apt), but if I turn it down then I can't hear anything for much of the CD. In contrast, it's been a long time since I've played the disc really loudly, which I did shortly after getting it, when living at 103 Stanton. I don't play much loudly any more since I'm never in my room any more - except for things on my headphones, and those tend to be faster than Labradford, and only played away from home. Less chance for "deep listening".
Sometimes I think Kid606 has something good going, but then sometimes I just want to put on some Aphex Twin instead.
The unreleased tracks on the Davis box are strange to hear. The music was generally improvised in significant ways, but I think that just the fact that it sounds very similar to the released music makes me judge it very strictly, so that there's a tiny bit of disappointment when something like "Ascent" doesn't sound exactly like "Shhh/Peaceful" - my expectations are continually thwarted. This is a really minor thing, though, one that will disappear with time. The music is still good, I think.