Tuesday, July 24, 2007

Notes on a Rhythm #2 - Delayed Gratification

Music takes up a decent-sized portion of my annual budget. Most of the records I buy are by artists I already admire, but the ones I pick up from new artists are usually based on things read and comparisons made. I try to give everything a fair chance, but sometimes, music gets put on my iPod and is soon forgotten until it comes up on shuffle four months later.
A few albums have made the jump from "forgotten" to "favourite," meaning I bought an album, forgot about it, and then somehow rediscovered it where it became a staple of my collection. A prime example is "Hope Is Important," the first full-length album from Idlewild. I bought it in 1998 based on reviews ("...a clever mash-up of Kurt Cobain and Michael Stipe," said one), but it didn't really resonate with me. I guess I didn't learn my lesson when their second major LP, "100 Broken Windows" was released in 2000, and it's a good thing. Following the herd of more glowing reviews, I picked up this album and instantly fell in love with it. Consequently, I began listening to "Hope Is Important" again, and discovered what a brilliant album it really is. This is but one example from a list of several, including The Rapture's "Echoes," Interpol's "Turn On the Bright Lights," Kanye West's "The College Dropout," and many, many others. And not always because I bought subsequent albums by the same artist. Sometimes it's just dumb luck.
Another reason this happens is sometimes I buy two albums at the same time, and one eclipses the other. I purchased The Good, The Bad & The Queen around the same time Modest Mouse released "We Were Dead Before the Ship Even Sank." MM's record still plays at least once a week in my truck, while GBQ is just now starting to emerge, nearly four months later, mostly on Sunday afternoons.
A similar phenomenon often occurs with individual tracks on an album. What happens most often is I buy a record and fall in love with the first five or six songs, and end up listening to the first half of the album for weeks on end. Eventually, I'll get to the latter part of the album, only to discover how many wonderful songs are hidden somewhere toward the back. It's almost like finding an album you didn't know you had. Or getting another one, altogether. Prime examples include "No Girl So Sweet," track 11 on PJ Harvey's "Is This Desire?" or "The Air Near My Fingers," track 12 on "Elephant" from The White Stripes.
Maybe this only happens with me, but I'm glad it does.
Still, there are just as many albums that stay hidden in the back, never to live out their true destiny, blaring from the speakers in my truck. (Sorry, Hipsters, but I just can't get into Clap Your Hands Say Yeah.) It's kinda sad. I try to leave things on my iPod as long as possible, but due to lack of space, sometimes things must be deleted. Before I part with something, I make sure I have a hard copy, just in case; and I always give it one final listen before I hit the 'delete' key. I feel a certain attachment to these words and melodies I hear, and tossing something out is always a last resort. Unfortunately, yesterday saw the demise of The Like's "Are You Thinking What I'm Thinking?" It wasn't a bad album, but it just didn't click with me. I gave it a few final listens in different environments (i.e. at the gym, on the way to the grocery store, before bed), so don't think I didn't try. Sometimes you just gotta let go. (And I should probably let Norah Jones know that things aren't looking so good for her latest album, either.) Plus, there are a few legendary artists that I'll be really determined to get into, but as much money as I spend on their albums and as much time as I devote to listening to their records, it just doesn't connect with me. I really appreciate you, Bob Dylan and U2. Some of your stuff I kept, and I'd even be willing to see you live, but I just can't refer to myself as a fan.
But for every instance of The Like, there's usually two Idlewilds, which is why I take so many risks in music purchases. Good music truly is the voice of God, and even the bad stuff deserves a listen every so often. (I think we all know Paris Hilton has done a little time on my earbuds. And I have no shame admitting that.) One of the best feelings ever is when I pick up a random album, and within a week, I can sing it through (i.e. Amy Winehouse, Elliott Smith, Peaches, et al). And this is what keeps, and will always keep me coming back for more.

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