Like everything, though, the last month has had its ups as well as its downs. A couple weeks ago I went to see party-rocker Andrew W.K. (the link goes to the song where I crowd-surfed for the first time), which was the first show I've gone to since I saw Bon Iver last August. Also, my brother was just here and it was great to talk to him and hang out (and listen to music, of course). And everyday my son surprises me with the stuff he can do: catching bugs, pretending to cook us pizza, learning how to play hide-and-seek.
What happened over the past week was the music seemed to be exactly what I needed at all times. Sometimes when I am depressed, I want to listen to something depressing: Beck's Sea Change and Elliot Smith's self-titled album are favorites. Other times I want to listen to something to cheer me up; Paul Simon's Graceland is a good example. Madonna's Ray of Light falls into neither camp, so I had to be in the right frame of mind to spin it.
Album: Ray of Light
Stream album here
I took over a week to listen to this: I saw it was up next, and I couldn't bring myself to put it on. Finally, one night after dinner, I stepped up and powered through. It wasn't so bad: it sounded exactly as I thought late '90s Madonna would sound. Cheery beats, reedy voice... I'm still a bit surprised at this selection, as I don't see it having more merit than her Immaculate Collection. "Little Star" was a surprisingly good track, and I actually listened to it twice. The thing was, I was in a good mood that night, and slogging through a mediocre pop record wasn't too tough.
Album: O Espirito da Paz
The next night I was dragging. I pulled up the next recording on the list, Portuguese group Madredeus. From the soothing opening track, the music was trance-inducing, worthy of a religious experience. The music is closely related to the Portuguese fado, which I discovered earlier in the book and love. The sound is melancholy, but in a way that it wouldn't be out of place in the lounge of a spa. It was just what I needed.
Artist: Magic Sam
Album: West Side Soul
Stream album here
Later in the week, again after a rough day, I put on Magic Sam's West Side Soul. I had never heard of this guy. but but by the opening track's guitar solo I felt my clenched jaw relax. The rough blues, reminiscent of George Thorogood, transformed my mindset. The troubles of my day seemed to fade as I sank into the wicked guitar work.
Artist: The Magnetic Fields
Album: 69 Love Songs
Stream album here
Finally, I came to the Magnetic Fields. It was a weekend, and I was in a great mood for the first time in a long time, so I was prepared for the three discs of inconsistency that make up 69 Love Songs. The first time I heard the Magnetic Fields was in 2008 while I was in Japan. I had a Paste Magazine sampler with a song on it called "California Girls." I hated it the first time I heard it. I popped the CD in my alarm clock, and as I lay in bed in the morning, slowly waking up, the song grew on me. I didn't particularly like the production, wasn't impressed with the lyrics, and pretty much hated the voice (I'm prejudiced against baritones, I will admit. It took a long time for me to appreciate Cincinnati natives, the National). But the melody became a worm in my brain.
I'm not sure how to keep any "indie cred" when I say this, but I just am not a fan of 69 Love Songs. As you can see by my infographic above, it seems like every time lead singer Stephin Merritt hits upon a great hook, he fills the song with inane lyrics. "Time Enough for Rocking When We're Old" is a great example. The song is cruising along for the first few verses, and then he throws in the line "There'll be time enough for sex and drugs in heaven/ when our pheromones are turned up to 11." What? What are you talking about, dude? You couldn't find a better way to rhyme with "heaven"? "The Book of Love" is one of his most famous, and the first time I heard it, it was as a cover done by former-Soul Coughing singer Mike Doughty. Not knowing it was a cover, in my review of Doughty's album I called the song out as some of the worst lyrics he had ever written. "Fido, Your Leash is Too Long" has a cool jittery, off-kilter beat, and the song is unlistenable due to the lyrics. More often, though, he writes killer lyrics and then covers them with jarringly bad music. "Love is Like Jazz," "The Things We Did and Didn't Do," and "Sweet-Lovin' Man" should be hits, but I can't listen to them more than once.
When he does get it together, the songs are shockingly good. Out of 69 songs, I loved three: "Wi' Nae Wee Bairn Ye'll Me Beget," and "Yeah! Oh, Yeah!" are standouts on the third disc, and "Papa Was a Rodeo" is on the short list for songs I'd love to perform at an open-mic night. The stark and shocking tale shows what Merritt can do at his best, describing a life that sounds all too real and harsh. Was it worth slogging through almost three hours for 10 minutes of great music? Well, on that particular day, yes. But that's the importance of mood when you're listening to music. Sometimes it's just the right combination.
Read Moon's entries here: Madonna, Madredeus, Magic Sam