Lately Listening To…
Music I’m listening to lately. List likely to include Tori Amos or Kate Bush. List not likely to include Counting Crows because they are awful and never should have happened in the first place.
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Max Richter
His compositions have a way of slowly growing and swelling without you realizing it until you’re completely enveloped by sound. Gorgeous dissonance, deep harmony, quick and slow, all vibrations and reverberations that gently pick you up and set you down and let go of you right when it’s time to let go of you.
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Norah Jones & Puss N Boots
I’ve come to the conclusion that Norah Jones is one of the most underrated, versatile musicians and singers who’ve come along in a while. Her collaborations are particularly impressive, including this cover of Dolly Parton’s “The Grass is Blue.”
But my favorite is Q-Tip featuring her on “Life is Better.” Her voice is surprisingly suited for hip hop & dance. And jazz. And bluegrass. And pop. And murder ballads. (“Miriam” is my favorite solo song by her and it is a murder ballad if I’ve ever heard one.)
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I used to call the music on this album “acoustic electronica” back when we called electronica “electronica” and Madonna told us all to call her “Veronica Electronica” (or at least told Kurt Loder to call her that) and we all kinda laughed until we heard Ray of Light in its entire magnificence and gagged over how absolutely amazing that album was and how her voice had never sounded like that before and how she was finally being authentic, probably, and that whole Evita mess was finally behind us and lo! We returned to calling her whatever she told us to call her because she fucking earned that respect with Ray of Light and that’s all I’ll say about that.
I visited London, England when I was a freshman in college at 18. I did a decent job in high school and had some good standardized test scores which got me into the honors program in college. At one point I withdrew my college application and wasn’t going to go at all, but that’s a much longer story for another day with another therapist.
At the college orientation program held during the summer break before school was to start back up, I learned about a short study abroad opportunity. They were taking a two week ish trip across the pond and I drooled at the very thought of going with them. I started physically fidgeting faster when they talked about it. I really wanted to go on this trip.
There was to be a selection process to choose participants from the honors program to go. We were to write an essay and submit it with an application, and probably a processing fee of some kind because colleges have perfected the art of nickel and dime-ing their students to death with application fees and lab fees and processing fees and breathing the same air fees on top of other fees. I think the fee for the trip was $1,000 which today would be way more than that. But it was a significant sum back then.
I don’t remember the application, to be honest. But I do recall that the first line in my essay was, “I remember the roses.” (I went on to write about how I’d been able to visit Germany, Austria, and Switzerland with my high school choir, and how I how much aching wanderlust I had to venture out of the country once more.) I later learned mine was the first essay and application to be received, and that I was immediately selected.
The school year started. I was going to a university two hours away from my parents so the entire year was basically my own little Rumspringa. I’d had a rough time growing up gay in their household. By “rough” I mean horrific with suicidal thoughts and self mutilation and untreated depression and anxiety, and all much more traumatic and stressful than I ever realized at the time. I wanted to run away. Every night I wanted to run away. But I stayed because I couldn’t bear the thought of the sorrow it would inflict on my baby brother. So I snuck out some nights and did things that would make your toes curl, but I always snuck back in before dawn. But, again, another story another therapist.
Being away from my parents for an entire year was a sweet taste of freedom, and I drank every drop I could. I mean I drank. Like, literally. Lots of alcohol. Drank and drank and drank. And I danced at the disco bars (which nobody called disco bars except me). I fell madly and magically in love with my first real boyfriend with whom I still speak today and who remains an influence particularly when it comes to music. I had indiscriminate sex with strangers. I tried drugs. I stayed up all night at the coffeehouse smoking clove cigarettes with the poetry writers and the girls who fell all over them. I made friends. I tried more drugs. I got my ears pierced in my dorm room with an ice cube and a sewing needle and a girl named Sharon Kim who made me laugh a lot. I played pinball. I rode a bike. I listened to The Pixies for the first time. I ate 3:00 am white pizzas with bacon and tomatoes that were diced not sliced (always at the request of the afore mentioned boyfriend). I hung Tori Amos posters on every square inch of my dorm room walls and then basically deserted it and the ROTC roommate I’d been assigned to live with. I got an A in one class: Slavic 130: A Comparison Study of the Vampire Figure in Eastern and Western Culture. I got an F in everything else. By the end of the year my GPA was the lowest it could possibly be. And when my parents found out, and when they learned I had a boyfriend, that was the end of the college experience for me.
The trip to London remains a very special experience and memory for me. One very special reason is that I got to see Beth Orton live at Shepherd’s Bush. I bought tickets from a scalper who totally scammed me because the venue still had tickets available for sale at the door for half the cost of what the scalper charged me. But I didn’t care. I got dressed up in goth black lipstick and a skirt and boots and black t-shirt with a chain wrapped around my finger and wrist with my hair highlighted and I got on public transport and I went to that concert and I loved it. It was her birthday so the crowd sang Happy Birthday to her. I don’t remember what songs she played, even though I was writing down the set list as she performed. I don’t remember seeing anyone else dressed like me. I don’t remember thinking that mattered at all.
But I do remember calling this album “acoustic electronica”. I remember listening to it in high school, and at college, and in London. And, all these years later, listening to it again.
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Cibo Matto
Sophisticated and mature without taking itself too seriously. Picks up where they left off and improves on it exponentially. Worth a listen if you know their old stuff. Worth a listen even if you don’t know their old stuff.
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Queen
It’s just a goddamned good record. One of a handful of albums that I will listen to from start to finish.
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Joanna Newsom
“Go Long” and “Baby Birch” and “Have One On Me” and “Good Intentions Paving Company” and “In California” …but most especially “Jackrabbits”.
And I guess there’s a third disc somewhere in this magnificent triple album.
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Angelique Kidjo
Sometimes I’d browse the international section of the library’s music section. I discovered several artists there, and deepened my knowledge of others.
I was familiar with Angelique Kidjo from her cover of “Summertime” on a compilation CD called Amazing Grace. I bought it during my Ani DiFranco collecting years, as her version of Amazing Grace began the CD.
There are a lot of good songs on there-a unique version of “Calling All Angels” by Jane Siberry is a standout. It also has, PM Dawn, The Cranberries, Automatic Baby (a side project/collaboration by members of REM and U2), Bob Marley, and a beautiful instrumental song by someone I’d never heard of but should probably explore. But the nearly all a capella layered vocals of Kidjo’s “Summertime” always intrigued me the most.
So, off to the library I went one day and came across a couple of her CDs. They’ve been in my collection and usually come out and play in the summertime, coincidentally.
Black Ivory Soul has a first with Dave Matthews, and I guess Questlove plays drums on the record, which I only learned this morning by reading the Apple Music album summary before posting this. Of the album it mentions its “samba beats, African rhythms and instruments, and her rich, powerful voice [come together] to produce a smooth and sophisticated set of songs.”
I’d tell you to check it out at your local library, but so many of them have moved to digital only collections of mainstream mediocrity that it’s a little harder now to find niche or more obscure artists. So, check iTunes or Amazon and I’m sure you’ll find a few samples there. (But don’t buy books from Amazon. It’s a whole thing.)
Refavela is my favorite song on here.
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David Bowie
Geez am I stuck in the 90s or what? Love this song, though. Not sorry. Still relevant.
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The Breeders
Andy was right. This is an album that you have to listen to from start to finish whenever you play it. Andy is always right about music. He’s shaped my musical taste in a tremendous way. I’m pretty sure he knows that. I hope so, anyway. When I met him, I was very Lilith Fair good, rock music meh it’s too loud and also screaming. He opened my eyes and ears to hear what beauty there can be in dissonance, what meaning there can be in noise, and what messy brilliance can exist when the right chords and words and rhythm collide.
If you haven’t done it in a while, give this album a listen from start to finish, and pay close attention. I guarantee, especially in this 30th anniversary edition, you’ll hear nuance you’d never noticed before.
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Barbra Streisand
I don’t remember the first time I heard/watched the Happy Days Are Here Again/Get Happy duet that Judy Garland and Barbara Streisand did, but I know I felt like I was witnessing one of the best performances ever caught on film. I love the way their voices blend and sound like one at the end. And there was a sort of tragic optimism watching Judy Garland perform knowing some of the things she had been through and struggled with. Her voice would and could not be denied, struggles be damned. It’s an incredible performance by two insanely talented women that I wish more people knew about. Sometimes I wake up and that’s the song I want to hear. This morning was such a morning. And every time I listen to it, I marvel at it and feel grateful for its existence. It really is that good of a performance.
Haven’t really listened to the rest of this album, though. Besides No More Tears, of course. More people should know about that song, too.
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Cyndi Lauper
My uncle’s sister worked for Buena Vista when I was young. Sometimes she’d get pre-screen movie tickets and share them with me and my mom. “Life with Mikey” was one of the movies we got to see in this tiny little 1 screen theater. Cyndi Lauper’s song “Feels Like Christmas” was on the soundtrack, and she was in the movie. I think Michael J Fox was too, but I don’t much remember that part. Of course by the time this album came out I was a Cyndi Lauper connoisseur and had all her albums on cassette. I would tell people about how she “seems to be releasing an album about every three years based on the dates on my cassettes so I think she’ll be due for another one in about two years.” What a smart kid, I used to be!
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Moxy Fruvous
Some people listened to They Might Be Giants in high school. Those people were dorky. The rest of us listened to Moxy Früvous. We also were dorky. Like, rent a limo for prom but skip the dance and have the driver drive you and your friends around town while you and your friends sing Moxy Früvous songs (and many other kinds of songs except for They Might Be Giants songs) dorky. That much dorky. Yes.
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Heart
My cousin, Jessica, loaned me this album, another one by Heart (self-titled one with These Dreams), and a couple Cher CDs when I was a teenager. Doing so influenced me and my musical taste in a great way that I didn’t realize at the time. I’m not a Heart super fan - I only have a couple of their albums and am pretty much familiar with only their hits - but I feel like Ann Wilson’s voice doesn’t get enough recognition for being the best female voice in rock n roll, which it entirely is. I heard on the radio yesterday that she’s having surgery for cancer and, I think, going through chemotherapy. A shame. I hope she pills through. “All I Wanna Do Is Make Love To You” is such great song that I still sing along with. My favorite song here, though, is “The Night.” I remember getting the cassette single for “Secret” with the b-side “I Love You” after borrowing Brigade from my cousin. Later, I got their live album on tape. Somewhere along the way a friend gave me a copy of Little Queen on cassette. I don’t remember if it was before or after Brigade. I think maybe before because I think I was pretty young.
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The Bangles
I wore out this cassette tape when I was a boy. Watching the Sky and Bell Jar are actually my favorite songs on here, followed very closely by In Your Room.
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Kate Bush
Now playing. I really do love this album. It’s my favorite Kate Bush record. I love the mature richness of her voice. And I meant it when I said the version of Song of Solomon on here is the most punk rock piano ballad ever recorded. Everything about it is just perfect, but it’s her invocation of Little Richard, the king queen of rock n roll that pushes me over the top every time.
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Kate Bush
The first, and for many years the only Kate Bush album I owned. My friend Neil shared a lot more of her catalog with me, usually on my car stereo as we sat and sobered up after a night of disco and drinks. I’ve come to appreciate more the reworked versions of these songs on Director’s Cut (especially Song of Solomon), but every now and then I revisit these originals.
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