The other day, I found myself chatting with complete stranger about modern music, past, present, and future. In the middle of making his point, the stranger paused, and a puzzled look began to spread across his face.
"I don't really have hope for music anymore," he said.
I spent the rest of the conversation citing examples of current demonstrations of hope-worthy potential, but I left the conversation feeling like I never completely won him over. Worse yet, as more days passed after that conversation, the more his statement haunted me.
To cope with this fear, I thought about the best moments I experienced listening to music over the years. I thought about the 1991 summer road trip to Galveston when I heard the Red Hot Chili Peppers sing about sex for the very first time. I thought about the Christmas Day of 1993 I spent reading the CD booklet for Primus's Sailing the Seas of Cheese from cover to cover. And then there was the time I eagerly jumped at the chance to buy Rage Against the Machine's Evil Empire on tape after a four year wait since the release of their first album.
Going beyond music released during my generation, I can fondly remember going on car rides with my dad through Houston and listening to ZZ Top's Tres Hombres, while he talked about the quadrophonic sound system that he had in his car when he was a teenager. Without even realizing it, I learned the lyrics to Abbey Road over the course of my early teen years before I ever learned about who The Beatles were later on in high school.
I even thought about how no matter how much the music of Third Eye Blind makes me want to gag, two dear friends of mine nonetheless consider themselves rabid fans. And then there's Katy Perry, whose songs have no redemption value for me...at all...whatsoever. Yet some people, god help them, listen to a Katy Perry song and actually give in to the urge to smile or even dance a little.
Absorbing all of these experiences, good and bad, brought me to the conclusion that yes, modern music has hope, and that hope lies in whatever it is you make of that music.
If you want your music to sound like a math project (Mr. Bungle, Sigh, Captain Beefheart), get after it. If want nothing beyond the boundaries of saccharine pop radio (B.o.B., Black Eyed Peas, Justin Bieber), go get you some. If you only want to surround yourself with all things Slayer and Morbid Angel, then follow your dreams and don't look back. It's all about what you like, old or new, how it makes you feel, and letting the good times roll.
To that end, this is what the universe gave me for consideration this week:
1) Fiona Apple - When the Pawn... - 1999 - Great album, hands down. Plus, if I was a female, angry as fuck, starving for a sandwich, and a better piano player, I would be Fiona Apple. Don't be frightened by the 400+ character long album title - this album yielded a legit series of spins through the week. Tight arrangements, catchy songs with a variety of emotional content, and an album closer that reminded me a bit of Lou Reed's 'Perfect Day.' Highly recommended.
2) Male Bonding - Nothing Hurts - 2010 - I was totally pumped to check this album out based on the samples that I previously heard, and for the most part, this album did not disappoint...save and except for one major critical flaw that I've noticed more and more over the last couple of years - the production squashed the vocals way way way back in the mix. Maybe that's the point of noise punk or 'lo-fi' or whatever label best fits here, but to me, it sounded like the producer submerged the vocals mic in the Challenger Deep of the Mariana Trench and hit 'record.' Catchy album, major flaw, buyer beware.
3) Pantera - Far Beyond Driven - 1994 - Like all of Pantera's major label albums, this one in particular suffers from the 'Side B Slump.' Perfect start, soporific finish, however, some mighty fierce songs lurk within. This album still plays like a Metal-by-the-Numbers coloring book, complete with power drill guitar distortion and vocals that sound like singer Phil Anselmo recorded in between taking shits. Hit up the singles as a must, but you will probably find greener pastures with Vulgar Display of Power.
4) Radiohead - Hail to the Thief - 2003 -I seem to suffer from an affliction that keeps me from completely swooning about most stuff that Radiohead releases. I mean, this album was pretty good, but I'm still trying to figure out what catapulted this album into the stratosphere of adulation in which it resides. Nonetheless, this album manages to excel at some of what Radiohead does best - it's emotive, disturbing, and a little sleepy. Fortunately, another common quality of Radiohead albums is that claiming to appreciate the album gives you bragging rights and indie credibility. Don't get too relaxed with your Pabst Blue Ribbon, though - you may have to put it down and skip a song or two on the iPod to keep this album moving.
As a post script, Saturday, September 18th, marked the 40th anniversary of Jimi Hendrix's death. And while this undoubtedly signals an unleashing of a new round of Hendrix-affiliated merchandise, one thing remains certain:
I will always have hope that Katy Perry will not be invited to appear on any forthcoming tribute album.
Here's to a good week,
-A
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