Just One of Those Albums

I truly do believe that with music, the songs, albums, and artists that mean the most to us have a corresponding moment in which the connection was formed. This can be someone suggesting a listen of an album, an accidental discovery of a song, or admiration of an artist being passed down from a parent in a moment in which a dissertation on the artist's greatness was explained in a manner in which only a seasoned listener could.

For me, London Calling by The Clash is just one of those albums. I just love it. I have loved it through a parade of new music. CDs have been bought, some good, some great, and some not so much. But I have always returned to this 1979 release that took Punk Rock to places Joey Ramone had no time for (not that's a bad thing.)

It was Easter Break my freshmen year of college and I was out for the day running errands. I took a turn and "Spanish Bombs" came on. The sixth track on the album played as the sun joined me via my driver side window. The sounds and sunshine came together in a moment in which I was entrenched in the stories of the song. I listened intently to the mix of Spanish and English being sung together in a manner both political and pop. I sang along about strife I had never heard of prior nor fully understood.

Needless to say, I finished the album, all 19 tracks (a solid number for an album if I do say so myself), and was hooked. Going back to the range of the album, all the songs seemed to be entry ways leading to worlds of emotions and feelings both rooted in the time in which they were recorded and relevant to the time I found myself in: late adolescence. They were expressed in a whole slew of genres that the album can be heard as a reader into all that is Rock. I was living in a time of discovery of experiences all known as life.

Now, on the other side of turning 20, I still dig the album as much as I did that. It still allows me to enter into a world other than my own, as I enter into a life all my own. It is a self-contained reality of unique and authentic artistic expression (the same can be said about Sgt. Peppers, but that is a post for another day). It is an aesthetic escape.

I enjoy hearing the songs for another time and dialing into the music and lyrics for few minutes, knowing that another one awaits me. And with each one, I turn up the tunes a little more and sing with more a smile. All of my joy and glee reaching its peak by the time things wrap up with "Train in Vain(Stand By Me). The album closes with me musically satisfied and already excited for my next time in the world of London Calling.

Always Going to Be A Jam

Since my introduction to it, Bob Dylan's "Jokerman" has been a jam for me. I recall discovering it Summer 2011 following an endorsement from Coldplay's Chris Martin. In an issue dedicated to Dylan, Martin was asked to name his favorite Dylan track. Martin named this song citing its Biblical lyrical range and inclusion of several noteworthy musicians on the track, amongst them former Stone Mick Taylor. Always a fan of Martin's own music, I reasoned that if it was good enough for him, it could potentially be good enough for me.

But before I begin, I would like to first define what a "jam" is to me. Quite simply, it is a song that I listen to no the situation I find myself in. I turn to it and turn it on because for me it leads me to smile. It amuses me in all the best ways possible. It just makes me happy.

In the case of "Jokerman"I am filled with the creativity and intentionality behind it. I anticipate the next lyric Dylan sings with one his last passable voices, his aged 80's cry. It came in the what would later be revealed as the middle part of his career, a decade that began with religious conviction and ended with the founding of his "Never Ending Tour."

"Jokerman" is heard as in response to his three religious albums he released leading up to Infidels, the album housing "Jokerman." Still painting with a lyrical palate rich in religious imagery, this time Dylan uses it not testify to the salvation offered by a prophet, but to create a character is explained through a composite all the stories found in the good book. As I listen, I aim to identify all of them and process what their significance is in this story Dylan is telling, all before the next one appears.

Throughout this process, I am treated to a relaxed landscape of sound. A snare drum taps in beat, coming to the front of the sound, and joining Dylan's voice for a second. Meanwhile in the background, an ambient organs plays with guitars, rhythm, lead, and bass alike, all holding their own and contributing to the sound of the song.

It is a song I continue to return to when I am in need of something I can sing along to and smile.    

A Good Song and Some Sunshine

I sit here on this Sunday afternoon filled with appreciation for the life I live and joy for days to come. This joy is compounded with the situation in which I type on these keys. The sun is shining through an open window and "Landslide" by Fleetwood Mac is playing on Youtube.

Stevie Nicks' intent to convey her message and let the listener into her emotional landscape is compelling. It moves me to ponder my own life, reflect on what would compel me to write such a personal song. Those thoughts and feelings flow into my mind and meet the warmth felt by the sun. Just as a river would in the wild. I may not have the answer to if I can "flow through the ocean's tides" but this moment felt right now is certainly helping.

I get lost in this experience for nearly four minutes and that is enough. It is a breath in of the freshest mountain air. It is the perfect splash of wave on my legs as I walk into the ocean. It is exactly what I needed. It is all these things and more. It is a good song and some sunshine.

The Beauty of a Good Mix

A couple of weeks ago I was fortunate enough to read a book that I thoroughly enjoyed and will think about for the rest of my life. This joyful literary experience was found in Rob Sheffield's memoir Love is Mixtape. Mr. Sheffield's words will linger on because of the connections I found with them. Like Rob, I am a Boston area Roman Catholic who lives for music and makes mixes for anyone and everyone in. In book, Rob chronicles his relationship with his wife through the mixes they made. The novel is written after she has passed away and Rob reconnects with her through the music the packaged together for one another.

 Now I have never experienced a loss equivalent to that of Rob's nor have mixes played such a role for me, but I have benefited from some good mixes in my day.   

Way back in 2009 following my high school graduation, a dear friend gave me a mix of late 80’s early 90’s alternative. It was a genre of music I was just beginning to discover as I was just getting into my young adulthood. I found myself connecting with these pioneers as I broke free of my high school self in anticipation of finding myself at college. For me, this mix was a coherent album that I listened to from start to finish. With each listen, connections formed between the songs and it would sound weird not listen to them in that order.

Some of the highlights from that mix include "Personal Jesus" by Depeche Mode,  "Losing My Religion" by REM,  and "Left of the Dial" by The Replacements. I recommend checking them all out. 

I have been know to make a mix or two myself. For one friend of mine, we make a point to exchange every six months or so. It is almost like a check up into how the other one has been doing. What is he listening to? What is he connecting with? What is on the soundtrack to his life currently and what does that say about his life? During the exchange, not too much is said but the excitement is high in anticipation in what the other will think. Usually within the week, the report comes in. 

With this friend and others for whom I have made a mix, I find myself returning the the playlist in my itunes when I am looking for some good to music. It is almost like having a custom radio station always waiting for me to listen. It is one that was carefully craft so as to allow for a maximum musical experience of escaping into a certain mood or feeling. For example, I recently made a mix entitled "Chill Mix Spring 2013". I included songs that I thought had that feeling of the air getting warmer and people relaxing that is embedded in Spring. Among the tracks were "The Unforgettable Fire" by U2, "Boy" by Little Numbers, and "Safe and Sound" by Capital Cities.

In the past I have done the same for a person's birthday, including the immortal "Birthday" by The Beatles and "Birthday" by Kings of Leon. 

Any way you do it, a good Mix is an escape, an entry way into musical experience comprised of diverse and different artists coming together for your listening pleasure. There is certainly some beauty in that. 

Take This Track For A Ride: Surf Wax America

Weezer has gone down as one the defining bands of modern music. There is an argument to be made (not today) that they pioneered the transition between the grunge of Nirvana and the alternative of Foo Fighters. Their pioneering career began with their debut self-titled album in 1994. It is saturated with fun tracks that show the full spectrum of Weezer's ability as a band. The songs sound differently and Rivers Cuomo sings about a variety of subject matters, both serious and light-hearted. One song of the latter description is "Surf Wax America".

What seems like a displaced early 60's Beach Boys song fits nice on this early 90's album between the more famous singles of Undone (The Sweater Song)  and "Say It Ain't So". It is 3 minutes and 6 seconds of crashing drums and striking cords. The music maintains a balance of urgency and calmness. There is room for the listener to enter, relax, and tap his or her foot along to the song. Cuomo announces that he is hitting the seas as if he is in a hurry. He is practically running across the sands as he sings and makes a statement about his preferred means of transportation. He plainly states at the onset of the song "the wave is coming but I ain't got no fear" and later declares "you take your car to work, I'll take my board. And when you're out of fuel, I'm still afloat."

For me, what is truly enjoyable about this song is the subject matter and how it places Weezer in a tradition. They are an American band led by a young aspiring song writer with an ear to the world he lives in and in this song he is singing about the piece of Americana known as surfing. Now I am not comparing Rivers Cuomom to Brian Wilson but it is should be noted that at least for one song he put on Wilson's flowery button down shirt and made a track worth listening to.

Quick Song Review: If I Ever Get Around To Living, John Mayer

On his latest release, John Mayer channels his inner Neil Young and creates an album that sounds as much a part of the musical landscape from the early 70's as it does from the early 2010's. Mayer, a guitar giant in modern music, draws from the past to create music that will last. Every track speaks to this looking back in order to see what will come. The lead single "Shadow Days" declares "I'm a good man with a good heart, had a tough time, got a rough start. But I finally learned to let it go." "Queen of California" name drops Young and opens with "Goodbye cold, goodbye rain, goodbye sorrow, and goodbye shame." On "If I Ever Get Around To Living", Mayer speaks to the next step in the emotional process embedded in this album.

The song starts with simply strumming reminiscent of Young's "Old Man" from his album Harvest. In fact, both songs are very similar in music and lyrics. Acoustic strumming takes center stage to a backing band of drums, bass, electric guitar, and slide guitar. Both artist sing with backing vocals that not only echo their sound but their message as well. Both Young and Mayer are on the cusp of a new stage in their life and they are reflecting on it. Young addresses an elder who lived on the ranch he bought. Mayer speaks to us, the audience, and lets us into his head space for five minutes and twenty two seconds.

I highly recommend accepting Mayer's invitation and stepping in. It is a song you can tap your foot along to while you think about if you will ever get around to living.