Sunday, February 28, 2010

All the Roads



I picked up this LP some time ago, based purely on the title "The Singing Nun". (How could I not?)

The music is everything you might hope for: perky, quirky, light as air and as radiant as the sun in springtime. Highly recommended.

Warning, though: the biography of the musician is apparently quite tragic. Let's just say it involves quietly romantic lesbian love, church-morality conflict, taxation cruelty, tenacity and despair, and a suicide pact. If you're curious, here's a more detailed telling of the story:




The album:

Saturday, February 27, 2010

Gone at the Flick of a Sledge


Always loved this guy, since picking up Folkjokeopus on LP in 1994 or so. This is one of my favorites of his songs. His albums are kind of spotty in general, bits of brilliance, bits of filler. And Folkjokeopus is very 60s in its way, lots of raga-guitar and I'm-stoned-too silliness.

Not that I have a problem with either of those things. I'll post it in the next couple days.

You're A Lazy Lady Today

Some folksy ladies today for your listening delight.




Thursday, February 25, 2010

Werking it

Was going to upload this today, then realized someone on another blog had a more complete version, so I'm linking to it instead:

What is it? Slow, dreamy harmonium drone. Good for napping or reading or studying. Sort of an unplugged-version of Stars of the Lid.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

You Are The New Leaves, You Are The Open Buds



A particularly lovely moody/grimy album from this band, which has some ties to Movietone and Flying Saucer Attack, and in earlier releases (only a couple, of the EP variety) tended towards blurty blurry experimental spaz-rock. The stuff presented here is much softer and more melancholy: it sounds like people you know, in a living room, quiet and intense, after a long-expected but heartbreaking breakup, and right before a long dusty afternoon nap. I've never heard an album quite like it.

One thing's for sure: the recording style is unusual. It's home-recorded, and they supposedly collect antique reel-to-reel recorders. There's a fuzzy shimmer to everything here that makes that seem like an excellent idea, even though nothing is even remotely hi-fi: drums whump and tap, guitars plink and buzz, vocals mumble and murmur. Yet it's not lo-fi, nor does anything sound retro or antiqueified. It's just covered in a glossy coat of autumnal haze.

Monday, February 22, 2010

Trouble Will Soon Be Over


Some of the most spine-tingling, terrifying, gospel-blues ever recorded. This is real.

Sunday, February 21, 2010

After the Snow


As haunting music plays, Bart and Lisa sit in the lotus position alongside a lake.
Lisa: I want you to shut off the logical part of your mind.
Bart: Okay.
Lisa: Embrace nothingness.
Bart: You got it.
Lisa: Become like an uncarved stone.
Bart: Done.
Lisa: Bart, you're just pretending to know what I'm talking about!
Bart: True.
Lisa: Well, it's very frustrating!
Bart: I'll bet.
Lisa: What is the sound of one hand clapping?
Bart: Piece of cake. [claps with one hand]
Lisa: No, Bart, it's a 3000-year-old riddle with no anwer.
It's supposed to clear your mind of conscious thought.
Bart: No answer? Lisa, listen up! [claps with one hand]
Lisa: If a tree falls in the woods and no one's around, does it make a sound?
Bart: Absolutely! [makes the sound of a tree falling]
Lisa: But Bart, how can sound exist if there's no one there to hear it.
Bart: Wooooooo...


First off, I'd like to point out that there's no such thing as music for zen meditation. If you're listening to music, you aren't meditating. But ok, it was 1974, and this record was made by an american jazz clarinetist and a handful of Japanese musicians. The fact that Verve called it something ridiculous (and that Alan Watts, in an interestingly dickheaded moment, calls the record "more Zen than Zen" on the jacket notes) isn't the fault of the musician necessarily.

The music itself is extremely chillaxing, in an audio-chamomile way rather than an audio-valium way. That is, this is calming, not stupor-inducing.

I have no idea what Japanese music aficionados would think of it: for all I know this is a Disneyfied orientalist fantasy. But I find it to be pretty musical and lovely. Proto-ambient music that uses Koto and shakuhachi, what's not to like?

I actually owned this record for years on end, without ever putting it on the turntable once, until one day I discovered it was on Verve and decided it was worth a try.

Hmmm. I just skimmed the Amazon reviews for the CD reissue, and someone there says "When you sit (zazen) the music you listen to should not have any kind of melody.This is because you would start listening only to the music and not "just sitting". "Music for Zen Meditation"is perfect for just this. It fills the gap of silence which is very important for beginners. I have sat to this music every day for close to 20 years. "

OK buddy, if you've sat zazen for 20 years then you're definitely more of an expert on Zen than I, who once fled a meditation hall because I thought my phone was ringing. (A moment of deep yuppie shame, though it was someone else's phone, mine was properly turned off). So I stand/sit corrected, maybe you can have music on while meditating. I don't think it'd work for me; I get obsessed by music. Background music in grocery stores and restaurants and, well, everywhere tends to really get to me, because I can't ignore it. Sometimes you just want to not hear Phil Collins while I eating dinner. And I get bothered by yoga classes where the thumpy-thump world-music made by 20-year-olds with keyboards extends into the corpse-pose segment, whereas no one else seems to particularly mind. But I suppose that, since we can't all meditate in a cedar grove, this record might be a good way to take away the jackhammering and car alarms...

Reading what I just wrote, I realize that I'm overdue for some silence. I'm going to hit 'publish post' and then go meditate.


Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Monday, February 15, 2010

We Dream Of A Ship That Sails Away


While cleaning the basement, found this mix-CD that I made in August 1999. Back then I listened to a lot of rock music (if you can call this collection of drifty, arty and melancholy songs rock). Most of this isn't from the 90s so I don't think it will have aged badly, though it isn't necessarily what I listen to these days.

I've always loved making mixed tapes/CDs/mp3s, and made a lot of them. Who knows if anyone ever listened to them. There were many times in my own driven-by-and-obsessed-with-music life, when the music someone else handed me (on cassette, mostly) changed my life in a dramatic way. I've always hoped to do that for someone else. But all you can do is make stuff you love and hand it over, sometimes it doesn't work.

In any case I've been feeling a lot of nostalgia lately. Maybe it's the dreary bleak and frozen gray February weather, but I'm feeling old, like my best days are behind me and all along I thought I was just getting ready for something better. Well, I've got nothing to complain about, my life is full of joy and has had its share of small excitements. But it's a little alarming to see so much of it as past tense.

So finding a set of the music I loved back when I was still in my twenties has some cheap appeal. Moreover, it's a good collection of songs that ought to create a pretty nice melancholy mood for your day. (Included: Kinks, Big Star, Ash Ra Tempel, Flying Saucer Attack, Brian Eno, more).

Hope you enjoy this as much as I did/do/will.

Saturday, February 13, 2010

How Can You Criticize Music








Su and I saw Fela! on Broadway last night, it was pretty much one 90-minute-long music & dance orgasm. I never thought I'd say this, but it was worth paying $70 for.

Anyone within striking distance of NYC, I encourage you to come see while you have the chance.

Here's basically a commercial for the show.



Want more? See also:

Monday, February 8, 2010

Eyed Elator



Recorded this on Saturday, along with other new versions of the "Meet the Beetles" songs from last November. I'd love to hear feedback.

If the link above doesn't work, try here:
http://www.radunicorn.com/erogray/guitar/EyedElator.mp3

Thursday, February 4, 2010

On that Road I Struggle


Some amazing music by a rock band I've never previously heard of, Midlake, on NPR.
A sort of somber Popol Vuh-meets-Byrds vibe (with just an occasional dainty touch of some rootsier Americana here and there). I'm totally loving it. Seems like they're streaming the whole album, which has a nice ritualistic sameness throughout, gorgeous harmonies and rippling guitars. Catch it while you can.

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=122295086