Okay, so my plan to discipline myself hasn't been so successful. Actually, I only lasted a couple of hours been I went running into the arms of an old flame. The fact that this flame was Bruce Springsteen doesn’t matter (actually it does, because me running into the arms of a man is creepy if you don't know what circumstances I'm referring too). Anyway, I'm still moving along through the unlistened music I've acquired over time, just at a much slower pace. Call it a lowered work rate if you must, but I prefer to call it adaptive standards.
The latest victims are a timeless record by an old war horse, and a (soon to be) classic by a decidedly less war horsy young lady.
Blue Oyster Cult
Collections
Reason For Neglect: You know how you do something and then regret it straight afterwards? Think Britney’s parents circa 1980. That’s how I felt when I bought it for Seven (count ‘em!) dollars. A bargain to be sure, but just because a 70’s rock CD is cheap doesn’t always mean that I need a 70’s rock CD.
Time of Neglect: Eh. About a year. Although ‘neglect’ kind of implies that I cared about it in the first place.
I, like so many others, am perhaps best described as a casual BOC fan: I love Don’t Fear the Reaper, appreciate the numerous references to the band within pop culture and would recognize that distinct symbol anywhere. Basically, I am exactly who this CD would be aimed at.
Past that one song, I never really bothered to explore their back catalogue, I mean, isn’t Don’t Fear the Reaper already more song awesomeness than any one band deserves?
After listening to Collection, I’d still probably class myself as a casual BOC fan, but now at least I know what I’m being casual about: Well done rock music with an emphasis on Satan and all things that accompany him. Even Burnin’ For You, rocking as it is, still contains numerous references to our sun burnt southern neighbor. Which is cool, I mean Elliott Smith had depression and alcoholism, BOC have Satan.
At any rate, it’s worth having this knocking about to remind a generation of little shit that BOC was something more than the ‘cowbell’ band.
Keep it or Kill it? Well, I bought this CD, so I’m hardly gonna throw it out am I? Plus, there’s a few keepers on it.
Bob Dylan
Blood On the Tracks.
Length of Neglect: Probably coming up on a year and a half.
Reason For Neglect: Um, the name Blood on the Tracks reminds me too much of Lindsay Lohan’s recent career. Plus I was too lazy to rip the CD to my computer. Oh, and I had heaps of early Dylan, so that was doing me fine.
Anyway, believe it or not, this CD really got me thinking about Conor Orberst. I’ve always been one of the ‘Yeah, Conor is a great songwriter, but he’s no Dylan’ kind of people*, but Blood on the Tracks has started to turn me towards the other way of thinking. You’re gonna make me Lonesome may be as Blonde on Blonde as anything he’s ever written, but Tracks otherwise has has more of country feel. Take for example almost ten minute Lily, Rosemary and the Jack of Hearts, which really reminds me of the Bright Eyes song Waste of Paint. Although Waste of Paint is a personal story and Jack of Hearts is anything but that, the rambling and parable type nature of them make them more similar (to me) than old grizzled music journalists may give them credit for.
True, Bright Eyes has never written a cut time bassline that that, but the other dichotomies between these two songs eventually led me to my main problem with Dylan, and it’s a rather odd one: I don’t generally get a lot of personal feeling off Dylan.
Call it an a musical off shoot of that unbearable ‘Chemistry’ dating cliché, or me still being too dumb to appreciate Dylan, whatever the case, it exists to some degree.
I have nothing but respect for his songwriting skills, and I sure enjoy listening to his music, but I don’t always like the way that he delivers his message. You kind of expect some ‘pour your heart’ Bright Eyes esque songs’, especially considering this was written during the break up of his first marriage.
True, It’s undoubtedly one of Dylan’s more downbeat albums, but his feelings are not always at the forefront, instead lurking ever present in the background. Maybe that’s just the mark of a great songwriter and I’m too stupid to pick up on it, but Blood doesn’t strike me as the type of album that you cry yourself to sleep listening to. Of course, this is barring If You See Her, Say Hello, which actually sounds like it’s written directly about Dylan’s relationship.
When Dylan really hits me is when he talks about disillusionment: The sometimes Catcher in the Rye esque Tangled Up and Blue and Simple Twist of Fate probably rate as the some of the most well written songs ever. They feel more like short stories than pop songs, and I guess that what make’s him so great: He’s no confessional, singer songwriter type pussy, he’s a fucking storyteller.
Now, Bright Eyes are never going to be a force to match Dylan and the Band, nor will they ever change Rock and Roll the way ‘Play it Fucking Loud’ did, but I can now at least see why people say these type of things.
*These people may not actually exist.
Keep it or Kill It: Keep it. Not only Is it Dylan, it’s Dylan at his best
Feist
The Reminder
Length of Neglect: Only a week! How’s that for prompt listening?
Reason for Neglect: Come one! It’s only a week, that’s not that long.
With all the terrible voices in the world (yours truly holding one of them) it’s nice to see (hear?) a brilliant voice getting the recognition it deserves. I refer not to the endless barrage of ipod ads (although that is awesome for her) but to the sparse production that inhabits most the songs of The Reminder. The gentle acoustic guitars, banjos and percussion gives Ms Feist’s vocal chops a chance to shine. Call a fair reaction to this being one involving equal parts shock and happiness. Especially considering that her credentials include a membership on Broken Social Scene, one could be forgiven for expecting a cacophony of endless atonal yelling and instrumentation.
All this discretion is fortunate, considering that her angelic-if-it-wasn’t-so-bad voice is the best thing about the CD. Ranging from a whiter Nina Simone (Brandy Alexander) to a less gruff Neko Case (Past in Present), it’s a tough prospect to not enjoying some aspect of her.
Continuing along the lines made by Neko Case (The New Pornographers) and Jenny Lewis (Rilo Kiley), Feist’s latest solo record delves more into a country and folk sound than their previous group work may lead you to expect. Although it hurts me to say it, I must admit that The Reminder is probably stronger than Rabbit Fur Coat, although the lyrics are missing that abject sense of cleverness that was evident in the latter.
Ignoring gender lines, a more (or should be less?) feminine of Sufjan Stevens is a almost unavoidable comparison: The sublime, usually solitary vocals and gratuitous use of any instrument that doesn’t need plugging in. This similarity is evident in brilliant songs like Intuition.
The rest of the tracks are generally of the same high caliber, but special mentions go to I feel it All and the John Mayer-esque electric riff on Honey Honey
In fact it’s so catchy that doctors are recommending people get immunized for Feist Fever this winter! Stop me someone!
I apologize for my excitement, but it’s one of those CD’s that you just can’t help enjoying
Keep it or Kill it: Keep it. One of my favourite new CD’s.
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