I try to have a healthy diet – organic, local, farmers market produce – that sort of stuff. That includes wholesome, wholemeal, often rye bread. Long lasting, slightly damp, chewy, it’s tolerable when toasted, but coming down for breakfast of a morning, I’m not sure I always relish the rather dull and cloying prospect awaiting. Having said that, though, there a part of me that likes the solid, healthy taste and I know it’ll sustain me well through the morning – slow release of energy, that sort of thing.
Some music’s like that. I look at my collection and wonder what to listen to and my heart sinks a bit. I’ve heard that band so often, I know them off by heart; that singer’s songs are all much of a muchness, etc. But if I start listening to them, I start to remember why I like them – the wheat shows through the chaff.
Galaxie 500 are a good example of that. Their ponderous instrumentation and somewhat amateurish vocals which vary little from song to song give me the sense I’m going to enter a musical swamp when I play their songs. Yet, once immersed, I get mesmerised, and Dean Wareham’s guitar solos and Naomi Yang’s scarcely sensed basslines completely win me over and I’m hooked. I remember why I eat their music.
Am I alone? Any music like that for you?
The Jam.
I know the albums inside out.
Last weekend, at a bit of a loss what to listen to, I put on Snap!
I knew every riff, every word, every expression, yet had a huge smile all the way through.
Perfick!
Last week I got in my car and the song on the radio was the very beginning of Going Underground “Some people might say my life is in a ru-t…” .
I was running a bit late but what I am I supposed to do in these conditions ?
I sat and sang along to the perfectly-recalled words all the way through. Only after the final words “for tomorrow-oh” and the bendy bass bit, could I possibly contemplate getting on with my day. I felt satisfied and nourished by that.
Uncertain whether a healthy breakfast or just a great juicy taste bomb of greasy flavour, huevos rancheros, don’t hold the chilli, something like that, but I played the whole of Abraxas in the car the other day, possibly the first time I have done so for decades. And it was fabulous. I could recall every riff, every sweep of the solos, all the vocals, even the tempo of some of the rhythmic quirks. I shall do it again soon with III. And then might listen, for the first time, to IV.
Just got the new edition of Fleetwood Mac and listening as I type. You know what? It’s better than Rumours.
It always was, IMHO. Their peak.
Nice to hear some love for Galaxie 500: On Fire is a long term personal favorite ( and the gig they played in Norwich that year was wonderful).
I suppose I’d choose early Stereolab ( I.e, 1992-96) as, despite knowing all the piecemeal ingredients very well by now ( the motorik rhythm, the Velvets riff, the Tropicalia embellishment), I still find the combination very satisfying.
I’m with you on the ‘Lab – after 96, after the amazing Emperor Tomato Ketchup, the freeform bleeps, loops and ba-ba-ba-ing all got a bit dull.
Thanks, @pessoa. Stereolab is an excellent choice for this thread. They make what I think of as musical corduroy – comfortable, but actually rather dull, if occasionally offbeat fashionwear. Acres of organ and jazz lite stretch onward like ploughed fields to the horizon in every muddy direction.
I listened to ‘Cobra and Phases Group Play Voltage in the Milky Night’ recently, after putting it off for ages. As I was walking along the Rhine on my lunch break, distracted by my surroundings, the music found its insidious way into my head – as mood music, it was quite rewarding. That’s faint praise, I know, but I think I like the idea of this sort of peripheral vision music – not to be perceived directly, but to vaguely perceive its influence.