04 Mar 2012
Billy Breathes - Phish
Throughout all my musical explorations over these years Phish was part of my vocabulary the whole time. It’s not something that really any one else I knew was listening to, and it’s not like Phish got much play on the radio, but I kept on listening.
The album Billy Breathes felt like a significant departure for the band. For a band known for their live performances, it was clear that this was a studio album through and through. From the first couple songs you could hear that the band was trying to create something tighter. The songs are reasonable in length, there are some lyrics that actually try, there are nice vocal harmonies, and there’s a distinct lack of meandering jams. This music was designed to be listened to in this way, recorded, not live. Which for Phish was… different.
Those first couple tracks felt more like singles, and they just don’t stand up to repeated listening as well. But the B-side of this album is solid. Can I still call it a B-side when I’m talking about the remaining 10 of 13 tracks?. It just all sounds like a B-side. It’s got a gentle consistent sound. It’s actually hard to pick out the individual songs, because everything flows together so well.
I’ve mentioned before a habit of preparing for sleep with music; finding albums that had good endings so that I could just leave them on to play me out. This was definitely one of those albums. Maybe the last one, as that the habit didn’t last beyond high school.
I was going to nominate “Prince Caspian” to represent this album in the timeline. It’s the last song on the album, and would always bring me back awake a bit (albeit in a happy gentle kind of way). But after further reflection it’s the title track, “Billy Breathes”, that really sums up the whole run for me. It’s understated, mellow, soothing, vocally compelling and musically diverse. And I love how it leads into “Swept Away”, which then is turned slightly nightmarish for “Steep”, which sets you up for the fresh breath of morning that is “Caspian”. Many albums ago Phish had tried to do a dream concept album, Rift, but Billy Breathes pulls off the same idea so much better.
Three years later I would begin dating the woman who would eventually become my wife. That first year I gave her a Christmas gift, which was a bowl I painted for her… and this album. Billy Breathes had stayed in my head space that whole time, and really felt like something that showed a key part of my musical experience.
Bubblehouse - Medeski, Martin & Wood
Remember MMW from before? Groovy organs, maybe sometimes a little crazy? Well Shack Man brought a little more of that groove out. And my friend Kevin, who introduced me to the band, was not just listening to this, he was working on emulating it. Piano was taking a bigger role in his life, and he was starting to work towards the musician/composer that he would eventually become.
I think it was a school talent show, but I can’t actually remember specifically. I just remember Kevin performing “Bubblehouse”. Which is a bit of a gimmicky song. It increases in pace until it gets to unmaintainable place. Then some random stuff happens that doesn’t really work well before it drops right back into the original riff at exactly the right speed (at 2:50, again at 3:33). It’s one of those moments where departing from center makes center more valuable. Contrast. But the cost on this contrast is slightly unbalanced, limiting my enjoyment. Still, it was much fun to see my friend frantically hammer away at those keys. I don’t know if he considers it a turning point in his life, but from my perspective it felt like it was.
I’d be remiss without mention “Dracula”. Not because it’s tied into another specific memory, but because it’s a great MMW song from this album.
Too Much - Dave Matthews Band
I’m in my bedroom, playing with LEGOs. I’m too old to be playing with LEGOs, but LEGOs are awesome, so I don’t care. I still don’t. A song comes on the radio. It sounds kind of like “Sledgehammer”. When the song is over the DJ says it’s by some band called “The Dave Matthews Band”. I remark to myself that this is a stupid name for a band. I return to my LEGOs.
That stupidly named band will become a critical part of my musical experience from late high school to early college, but at this moment they leave almost no impact whatsoever. I have the memory, but in no way did I rush out and buy the album, or even look the band up.
Disco Inferno - The Trammps
The older we got the less my brother and I hung out, but there was still overlap. Some of his friends I liked, some I didn’t. Some of them also became my friends. One of those was Ethan.
At our high school, seniors had to put together some sort of senior project as part of their graduation requirement. Ethan was interested in film making, so he decided to make a movie. More specifically, a stop-motion animated movie. I ended up being involved as the character creator and animator. The title: Timmy and the Space Creatures.
In the movie aliens come to Earth in response to receiving an “audio delight” that reached them as radio waves after traveling through space for decades. They capture a young boy and demand he produce more. There’s a dance sequence to “Disco Inferno”. Forever that song for me is hours spent in Ethan’s garage painstakingly moving small clay figures. It was a lot of work, and it was also incredibly fun.
Wake Up - Mad Season
Outside of the movie, I did get a more contemporary music reference from Ethan. I only remember two songs from the album: “Wake Up” and “River of Deceit”. Those are the first and third tracks, but I have no memory of the second. I got this as a copy from Ethan on cassette, so I think that means he actually saved me the trouble and just edited that out.
I don’t know about you, but I got pretty much no sleep in high school. The staggered transportation schedule with the other school tiers (middle and elementary) results in high school students having to get up ridiculously early. School eats up a large section of your day, and then you’ve got the remainder to find out who you are as a person. By the end of all of this it’s late and you’re exhausted.
As mentioned above, I would go asleep to music. But waking up to music can be nice too. I took the suggestion in the title “Wake Up” and for awhile I used that song as a gentle wake up progression. It starts soft and builds into something harder to ignore, making it a good fit for the sleep deprived student.
Freaks - Live
As far as I can tell, this is the last album I ever had a copy of on cassette. Yes, there were some mix tapes after this, but this was the last time I remember getting a copy of a full album on cassette.
In hearing this song I experience two concrete sensory memories of friends singing along. At 1:40 I see Mary, at 3:13 I see Andy. I think these memories are from the same sitting, but I can’t place where. But it’s startling how clear the image is.
29 Feb 2012
When the Music’s Over - The Doors
If I hadn’t done my research I would have placed this much earlier in the timeline. But thankfully my sketchbooks are littered with timestamps. They’ve been invaluable at times for ironing out these fine ordering details. I don’t think anyone else cares if this is strictly autobiographical order, but it is important to me. Anyway, the point is that the music I listened to had a tendency to creep into the art I was making. I found some pretty random sketches related to The Doors, and specifically “When the Music’s Over”.
I don’t think The Doors would be the same without the rampant substance abuse of Jim Morrison. Even though I was about as straight-laced of a kid as they make, there’s something that appealed to me about Morrison’s bat-shit-crazy forays off into the deep. I was oddly attracted to stupid bullshit like “The End”. I don’t know why I was so damned weird, but I was, and I liked weird things. Even though I was dead sober.
I wanted to appear somewhat normal and pick something like “Riders on the Storm” for this list, which is a song that I love. There are actually plenty of Doors songs that I both adore and are perfectly listenable. But they didn’t punch through in the way that those lyrics about “the screams of the butterflies” did. Seriously, looking through my sketchbooks I appeared to be a very disturbed kid. I don’t know why they didn’t lock me up.
Ramble On - Led Zeppelin
I actually don’t have a concrete time to put in Zeppelin. We’re at the point in my story where I’m really delving into classic rock, but it’s not like I can point to a Zeppelin record in the way that I can with The Doors. All of my exposure was via the radio, which makes it almost impossible to place.
What I can concretely pinpoint is The Lord of the Rings. The moment I started reading those books the evidence was legion in my sketch books. I can give exact dates for when I had hit Weathertop, Moria, Amon Hen, pretty much the whole journey to Mount Doom. I had finally got around to reading what Dragonlance and pretty much anything fantasy I had ever consumed was sourcing from, and I was not disappointed.
So, what does this have to do with Zeppelin? Almost nothing, except the some lyrics in this song punched through to me over the radio. Did he just say “Mordor”? Is this a rock song that has a verse about Gollum? Awesome. Also, this song is great.
Oye Como Va - Santana
At this point should I just say “I discovered classic rock” and leave behind the prose. There are just too many influences washing over me at this point. Delving into a single one seems like giving it undue focus. It’s not like I turned into a Santana nut. It’s just that this song makes me feel like a particular time in my life. I don’t even have a story for this one. I unfailingly think of Noah, and of riding along in the car. It’s just a light, fun, happy song that makes me want to dance. Not that I ever would have danced at that age, god no.
Iris - Live
Okay, enough of me blissfully exploring my rock roots. Time for something contemporary. Time for some melodrama.
I was making friends. Some were rediscovered, but some were honestly new high school friends. Some of them were girls. And I didn’t know it at the time, but I was totally going to develop some asymmetric crushes. Alas, no reciprocation for me quite yet. It will come eventually, don’t worry.
I don’t know how it is you get to associate a particular band or album with a particular set of friends, but it happened all the time back then. I guess when you’re young you don’t really have that much else to talk about. Music is powerful, and something you can bond over. Well this small group of friends that I’m thinking of are somehow are wrapped up in Live and Throwing Copper.
I combed through the album, which was intensely familiar. “Iris” felt like the right pick to represent how the album made me feel, and how I think it resonated with that group. But honorable mention here goes to “Shit Towne”, and the memory of trying to convince Mary’s younger sister that the lyric was “Ship Town”.
Dishonorable mention to “Lightning Crashes” for completely petty reasons. So the song’s pretty good, don’t get me wrong. It’s got that slow build-up which I like. After lots of natural build it transitions into a bridge at about 3:30. We’re still fine at this point. It’s how it comes out of the bridge that creates problems. At 4:06 it jumps right back into the chorus, but it feels oddly… deflated. It sounds like when mastering the track someone turned down the volume right at that point. The idea being that the song needed to go quiet again before the finale. But it feels forced. It feels artificial. It drives me crazy every single time I hear the song. And it’s in the final part of the song. There’s no time for me to recover and feel good about it. I just get dumped at the end of the song feeling used.
There’s an underlying note of rejection for me in this whole album. I had a friendship that felt like it should go to another place to me, but the feeling wasn’t mutual. Thankfully the friendship survived that. So it’s still something I can listen to (although I hadn’t in ages), but it’s a tad melancholy because I can’t quite separate what I was feeling from what I was hearing.
One Headlight - The Wallflowers
There are a couple of things wrapped up in this album. Namely, a hat, a girl named Lisa, and a girl named Francesca.
It’s summer break. Not this one. Earlier, I think. I think between 8th and 9th, but maybe 9th and 10th. I’m anxious about the coming year. I have become keenly aware of how volatile friendships are in this scary new world. My mood is poor, but gets immediately turned around by one phone call. The person on the other end is Lisa, who I’ve known since middle school. I don’t have the slightest clue how phone numbers got exchanged and under what excuse a call was initiated. My guess is that it’s the only time a phone number dropped in a yearbook got used for the powers of good. Anyway, I don’t know how we got to that point, but I ended up chatting with Lisa on the phone. Not in any sort of romantic way, or about any particular topic. Just the idle phone chat that I could do back then that I can’t now. The point is I could feel a new friendship being forged. The future all of the sudden looked brighter. Just talking to someone else put me back on an optimistic path.
I remember walking around the house while on the phone. I remember finding a funky old-man hat and wearing it around. I remember feeling self conscious about the idea of wearing it out, but Lisa being totally supportive. Of course I never did. I really wanted to be the sort of person that could, but I wasn’t. But I’ve never forgotten the support from that voice on the other line.
Later Lisa and I actually began to hang out. In school we became math partners. And at some point in there I remember us adopting this song as our anthem.
Many years later I was able to see Lisa again at my high school reunion. I really enjoyed catching up with her. She was one of the only two people there that I realized I probably shouldn’t have let drift apart.
27 Feb 2012
I have plenty of musical memories from 8th grade, and I have another significant spike of influence in 10th grade that continues onward. But my Freshman year is a bit of a musical mystery. I’ve been digging and there just hasn’t been that much that I’ve found. I guess in response to the extreme social changes of high school I didn’t explore any new music. I mostly stuck with what I was already listening to and held on to that as a comforting constant in a sea of new experiences.
What we have here are mostly 8th grade experiences that just bled on through, because I basically have no memory of what was going on in late 1995.
Plateau - Nirvana
Most of my influences up until this point had been through friends. But at some point I started listening to the radio. Most adults get their radio time in the car, but as a kid you have to more intentionally carve out time to listen. I had a CD/cassette/radio stereo combo in my room by this point, and sometime around this time I started listening to 107.7 “The End”.
The Nirvana Unplugged album was released shortly after Kurt Cobain did himself in. I had listened to Nirvana earlier on, and learned to play guitar to a lot of those tunes, but I didn’t actually listen to them very much. This album though, this softening of their sound, really worked well for me.
I had fallen into the habit of listening to the daily top ten list on 107.7 before bed. I remember a long stretch where “Plateau” was the number one track. It got to the point where one night the DJ pleaded with people to lay off requests, to give up the slot to any other song even if for just one night. It’s not even that amazing of a song; there are plenty on the album that I prefer. I to this day don’t know why this is the song that worked for the mourners. Is it the sadness in his voice? The frantic chorus? The ethereal outro? Something about this song really connected with people to the point where they en masse called for it daily.
Personally I prefer “Oh Me”. But that’s not the memory now is it.
Add It Up - Violent Femmes
I had a cassette tape with part of this album on it. I don’t know if that tape was from my friend Carlos, but I forever associate it with him.
This song was… raw. Dirty. I mean, he says “fuck”, and that was still a big taboo to me. I felt like I was listening to something that I wasn’t supposed to. I’ve heard “Blister in the Sun” plenty of times over the years, but it’s “Add It Up” that takes me back to this time. There’s something about the irate loneliness that just fit. Carlos and I are out on our bikes, full of misdirected lust towards our respective crushes. We’re talking and bonding as we zip around. And this is the soundtrack. Of course we were outside with no ability to broadcast music, but retroactively this is what’s playing in the background of my memory.
Devil Boy - Seven Mary Three
This is another album I attribute to times with Carlos. It immediately feels like an appropriate fit for those times, but I can’t put my finger on why. It fits into that same mental bucket as that Femmes track: biking around the neighborhood.
I remember being not entirely satisfied with this album. There was something about the tone that didn’t exactly work for me. It wasn’t… effortless. But there was some potential. I wasn’t able to really understand this until a couple of years later I experienced their next album, which we’ll talk about when it comes around.
In the end I went with “Devil Boy” as the track here because it feels more nostalgic for the time. But I’m thinking I like “Anything” better.
Golopogos -> Muzzle - The Smashing Pumpkins
I started listening to the Pumpkins because of a girl. Now their next album came out, in all its two disc glory, and I listened to it for my own reasons. And it was one hell of an album. Billy Corgan certainly hadn’t been dicking around with Siamese Dream, but Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness is pretty much the definition of ambitious rock album. Sweeping, symphonic, complex, and sometimes downright difficult to listen to.
I could never listen to this album in direct sequence. It’s just too all over the place. I developed some complicated series of track skips to carve my own path through it. It started with the title track, that lovely piano intro that brilliant lifts you up for “Tonight, Tonight”. The journey from there was a dreamscape that sometimes dipped into nightmare. “Jellybelly”, no thanks. “Zero” was okay, but I would rather skip right past to “Here Is No Why”. I kept going for a bit but would be sure to skip “An Ode to No One”. “Love” too, depending on mood. But then I’d be free to relax off the skip button as the disc closed out in style.
The best example of what the album was for me is in the combination of “Galapogos” and “Muzzle”. “Galapogos” does that thing I love, where it slowly builds from a soft gentle intro into a heartfelt crescendo. That emotionally and sonically leaves me ready for the anthemic yell of “Muzzle”. I perceive them as one song. Which is normally the sign of a good album, but of course I had to skip three or four tracks before getting to this pair. It somehow makes it even harder for me to select a song for this album. It was always a connected experience, however uneven the journey.
1979 - The Smashing Pumpkins
With two discs to the album I feel it can justify two entries. This album coincides with my increasing friendship with Noah. Mellon Collie was something we were both processing at the same time. I don’t think I realized it at the time but we were listening to it in completely different ways. I’m pretty sure that the songs I skipped where the ones he listened to, and the ones that connected for me where ones he skipped. I didn’t really understand this about our dynamic until a solid four years later when we were college roommates.
But there’s one song that I think everyone can get behind: “1979”. Care free, optimistic, and swept away by a groove. It’s so tight and poppy that it feels like an extreme outlier in this crazy album. But it’s so good that it feels perfectly in place wherever you put it.