Musical retrospective 2007

Lord knows that another slow musical year hardly deserves an entire post dedicated to it, but now that it's so deeply entrenched in the rich, historical tradition of this blog o' mine, it seems unfair not to indulge once again. So here I go.

Yes, as hinted in the prologue above, I think there has been an exponential decrease in the volume of music in my life, but as I argued a few times with S, this doesn't mean that it matters less to me. It's a truism that what really counts is how much you engage with whatever you do or experience, and so I don't think things are all that more different in the only sense that really counts. Maybe I seem to talk about the same artist or album a lot, but I enjoy this deep study of a few specific things. Early on, I was too entranced by the thought of having an "opinion" on anything and everything that critics and listeners deemed "important", or just "worthy of one's opinion". Nowadays, I have (consciously?) shifted away from that. There really isn't an obsession any more to know about, say, all the Can records (nothing against Can, they're just an example of someone a fair ways outside my sphere), or the true progenitors of each and every genre, or what album best captures the end of the '70s, and so on. The sort of encyclopaedic knowledge that many listeners possess is beyond me, should I want to keep my methods of detailed analysis; and at the moment anyway, this is the way I'd like to go for a while longer.

Indeed, I think I've become somewhat elitist, but it's not in the usually understood sense - yes, much to my shame, I do sometimes clutch onto certain records and think that my knowledge of them puts to shame the idols that others erect, but this happens less nowadays (through training!). The elitism I deal in is mostly about me not caring - not caring about things like I mentioned previously, as opposed to the many I see who wear their knowledge with pride, but express their knowledge in such an unconvincing way that I suspect their treatment of the music is mostly peripheral. By which I mean it really does sound like it has just been on in the background, and whatever half-baked impression it creates is put down as a definitive opinion. I tend to imagine then that these listens are simply so that an opinion can be formed and put forth proudly, to increase one's cred or whatever. I sometimes like to imagine that my level of distancing somehow puts me "above" such listeners, but I recognize this as a failing - I think elitism is almost always the wrong way to go. In this regard, I need to interact with people I perceive to have fallen prey to this "affliction", because I sense that at least some of them possess a far greater appreciation than my flippant judgement allows. Really, it's the same old issue of my inability to take music in large quantities, making me overly defensive and desperate to seek out flaws in the patterns and habits of the majority.

Ideally, I suppose I'd like to be able to keep the deep study but also stamp out the remains of my "preservation" principles (which earlier posts will tell you refer to a ridiculous policy of saving albums for "just right" occasions, that invariably never turn up). I'm looser about them nowadays, but I still find myself not listening to certain albums for no rationally defendable reasons - what I tell myself is essentially along the lines of "Wait till it comes to you", but it sometimes never does. Of course, changes in my environment this year mean that finding time for such leisures as listening to albums may become scarce, but I hope that whatever time I do find is put to proper use. Not quite a resolution, but it's something I'd like to put into practice, so that if nothing else, next year's retrospective is more interesting ;)

Onto the records then? Let's see, memory (and the archives) tell me that last year was Simon's, due to the sheer number of his albums I listened to, and the one before it the Roxy's, which was the result of just one album. This year? No clear "winner" as such, but if we go by my favourite album this year, I guess it'd have to be Morrissey. Which is surprising, because I long thought that his solo career was a step down from the days of the Smiths, but that was based on hearsay, and no actual listening of my own. You can't compare the two, of course, but Viva Hate is the Queen Is Dead of his solo career, in my opinion; by which I mean that it's an album where everything seems to turn out just right, and it just so happens to be his first solo album. This was one of those albums that just presented itself to me in the most unlikely of places, and I got it expecting some competent experiments by Morrissey to try and see what he could do without the Smiths. Instead...! I might be the only one who thinks it's as potent as his Smiths lyrics, but that's in no small part due to the fact that I love the underappreciated songs, treated as frivolous distractions by most reviewers. I hesitate to dwell on them too much, for fear of sounding as though I have completely lost it - after all, these are songs that people either cite as being exactly the kind of nonsense that makes Morrissey's solo career nothing compared to the Smiths', or simply don't bother to mention. But..."Little Man, What Now?", as I noted in my RYM musing, I firmly believe captures a more fundamental and deeper sense of sadness, empathy, and failure than simply the tale of a once famous TV star. I once thought it was an example of excellent sequencing, following the wonderful opening track ("Alsatian Cousin"), until I found myself listening to it more than the other tracks! And "Break Up The Family", which walks by without troubling many people, is another song I find moving for rather personal reasons. For whatever reason, I really respond well to the "growing up" that the song seems to suggest (yes, of course there are parallels with my own journey, which obviously creates special bonds). Objectively speaking, I could probably do without some songs towards the end, but they don't really matter during the listen. By the time the end comes, I feel so satisfied that they happily pass by without a hitch.

Viva Hate's cousin also got a lot of listens - Bona Drag is like Hatful Of Hollow (I can't stop the Smiths comparisons, it seems) to me, in that the reason I like it so much is basically due to a few of the songs being flat out great. As singles compilations go, of course one can argue about some of the other ones being relatively weak, but I'm far more lenient on these sorts of albums in this regard. The wit and humour! Beautiful. One disappointment was Vauxhall and I, however, which I was expecting to be his masterpiece, but which turned out merely good. Actually, it may well be a personal masterpiece, and I can easily imagine him thinking it to be his best album, just looking at how it expressed his state of mind at the time. I normally join the artist in such cases and appreciate it from "their" point of view, but not this time I'm sorry to admit. Yes, there are three excellent songs that make the album well worth any fan's time, but I cannot see it as his finest hour the way most fans do. For me, it's Viva Hate (assuming of course the people aren't lying to me about Kill Uncle, say).

More exploring of old favourites was done with me pal McCartney. For once, I can claim to be relevant in that I did hear Memory Almost Full, released this year. And it's pretty good. I remember thinking that most of the panning reviews were probably the result of very cursory listens, because none of them seemed to pay any attention to the very respectable tracks I found only over a long stretch. The day after release saw RYM filled with reviews dismissing it as mediocre, which I found quite unfair. Agreed, no-one's going to cite this as the Ram of this century, but I don't regret making time for this at all. And yes, I should get around to Chaos And Creation sometime...

Red Rose Speedway, which I packed away with bitter disappointment last year, made a huge turnaround. I now consider it, in a word, grooovy! It's actually interesting in its construction, for I find that the album gradually gets better and better as it moves along, until one reaches "Little Lamb Dragonfly", which is unjustly unknown, for it is one of the best ballads McCartney wrote. After that, the material stays at a basically equal level, until the ending medley which is silly, simple, yet oh so melodic and interesting. I don't mind the potpourri nature of it all, because the sections are just delightful. Particularly "Lazy Dynamite", which comes off as one of those melodies you feel you've always known (McCartney does that a lot with me), and also the unabashedly sweet "Power Cut". You don't have to tell me that the pieces couldn't have survived by themselves, but it doesn't really matter. The stitched together suite seems rather at home among the rest of the tracks, and I don't doubt that this positive end note has no small part to play in making me consider Rose a fine, fine album. Sure, as an Amazon reviewer pointed out, there must've been a lotta drugs going into the album, and sure, it can sometimes be messy, but neither of those things come across in a negative light for me.

As I was preparing for this retrospective earlier, I was thinking that Tug Of War might be Viva Hate's prime competitor, but somehow as time has passed, the album has fallen ever so slightly from my heart. But it's still in a fine place, because I think it's the most consistent McCartney got since Ram (yes, in saying so I conveniently ignore the ones I haven't heard, writing them off as possible gems for die-hards that can't possibly be revelatory - such is my arrogance). The other thing that really strikes me is how well-crafted and complex the songs are - there isn't anything that I'd call straightforward pop, as everything has just that little extra twist that you only realize after many listens. I still think of the album very highly because it is just so consistent. But (you knew it was coming!), the one complaint I can make is that there isn't anything, well, truly special. A "Little Lamb Dragonfly", if you will, is missing, even if all the tracks are as good or better than your average McCartney song. "The Pound Is Sinking" is my favourite, as a McCartney mini-suite typically is, and the third verse is the most powerful moment on the album; but I suppose even this beautiful number can't provide the required elevation. And so, Tug sits in the second level, behind Ram, but perhaps unfairly, alongside something like Red Rose, which is so sprawling and loose that it feels just wrong to put it alongside so tight and meticulous an album. Yet how can I deny the emotional resonance of Rose!?!

Given the volume of his work I listened to last year, it isn't surprising that I eased up on Paul Simon this year. But I still had the energy to hear There Goes Rhymin' Simon, whose association with me goes back many a year, and whose first listen was such a letdown that I don't think I brought myself to mentioning it in last year's retrospective. But time dealt with this injustice, as I got around to retrying the album, and finding myself liking it more with each subsequent listen. What I once took to be missteps from the brilliant constructions on Paul Simon slowly revealed themselves in their own way. Yes, there is some filler that I cannot deny, but one cannot deny something like "Tenderness", which displays all the characteristics that I loved off the debut. Nor something like "Was A Sunny Day", which seemed to be nothing more than a simple reggae shuffle the first few times I heard it, but somehow started to shine through the rest of the material later on. Probably one of the earliest examples of his writing being obtuse - of course I don't know why she calls him Mr. Earl! A commentator on GS' site remarks how it seems to take a meaning of its own, which is something I am fond of quoting, even if I don't know how far one can take the argument.

Ah yes, I also filled in some gaps in my Cave collection. Henry's Dream seems a fitting enough successor to The Good Son, though it's really nothing like it at all. The imagery is at its most vivid, but the music is back to Tender Prey days, and interestingly enough I don't find myself listening to either record all that much. Which is not to say I dislike either; I pretty much agree with the view of Prey being a career highlight. It did take time to appreciate the more aggressive style of Dream, but I think it was worth it, just to understand Cave a bit better. But there's no escaping your inlication, and I'm not entirely sheepish to admit that I usually return to the softer ballads ("Straight To You" and "Loom Of The Land"), even though "I Had A Dream, Joe" has also left quite an impact on me.

Strictly speaking, I haven't given Let Love In enough of a chance yet, but as of now I think it to be a fair to good album, all things considered. Lord knows there are enough good songs on here to justify its place in Cave's catalogue, but right now, something just seems missing. It might be that I've been reading too many reviews, because I'm not sure whether the lyrics are great or if there is a lot of the same old material being repeated. I hope time and wisdom will help me decide this matter. And I hope time will afford a listen to Your Funeral...My Trial, which I've only heard the one time, and so really don't have much to say about. But (I can't resist)! "The Carny"! A very impressive first listen it was.

You know, usually albums that get their first listen in late October/November end up basically stranded in no man's land, getting passing mentions in respective retrospectives. Cave's fine double album, Abattoir Blues/Lyre Of Orpheus deserves not such a fate, and even though I don't think I've listened to it enough, I know enough about it to affirm those who praised the first disc. The second? Moments of greatness, but a lot of it is currently wringing on my patience a little bit. "O Children" just about makes up for it though. One of the best for sure, "Hiding All Away", is just a joy to listen to, even though I initially found it terribly boring and meaningless. We'll get to the ending later, but I should first mention that even without it, I'd still love the song. The intonations can't help but remind me of Dylan, as do the images; hilarious, as Nick rarely is (I like how he emphasises that he really isn't in the oven, for instance). As for the ending! I obviously didn't see it coming, and it's interesting how it seems to put what came before it in a completely new light. The next listen gives the seeming nonsense more of a message (or perhaps that's part of the charade?). Thank the lord he can still write songs like this!

Lists!

Favourite album: Viva Hate I think, but I won't reflect on this for too long.

Favourite songs (standard):
1. Afterglow (Small Faces)
2. Tenderness (Simon)
3. Little Lamb Dragonfly (McCartney)

Favourite songs (idiosyncratic):
1. Little Man, What Now? (Morrissey)
2. Lazy Dynamite (McCartney)
3. Ouija Board, Ouija Board (Morrissey)

Best discovery: Though I didn't talk too much about them above, I'll say The Small Faces. Like the Roxys before them, they came out of nowhere and floored me.

Best rediscovery: Red Rose Speedway, as noted above.

Best opener: Hmm..."Alsatian Cousin"? Not a particularly strong year for my album openers, because as much as I like the song, it isn't a master-stroke.

Best first listen: I'd probably go for Tug Of War, even if it didn't end the year as high as Viva Hate. Even now I can't escape the amazing melodies. And I try!

As always, I love the predictions for next year! Once again, I failed to do most anything on last year's predictions (although I did get some Cave albums). Perhaps next year will feature...more Randy Newman and John Prine? That's all I got, I'm afraid - things aren't looking up for the year ahead!