52 Weeks - Fall - Various Artists

Track List:

1. Psy-Sci - Myanmar government imposes curfews
2. Set In Sand - Playing In The Dirt (To Counter Depression)
3. Ernest Gonzales - Cowboys Still Matter
4. Populous feat. Penny - Early Humans May Haved Used Makeup, Seafood
5. Medusa Palace Casino - Eat It, Lick It, Snort It, Fuck It
6. The Van Allen Belt - Solar Crosses Stolen from Cemetary
7. Coppe and Cal Murphy - This Is My Cancer
8. Orangebox - From Minus 19 to Zero in One Night
9. Sky Barstow - Quick Fixes to Bring Back Damaged Voices
10. Ceschi - Injuries Being Called Suspicious
11. Nathan Michel - Time to Fire Isiah
12. Rafter - Long Ago a Rodent As Big As A Bull Lurked In South America

Running Time: 33 minutes
Released 2008

OK so... I only had 1 track from this album when I went to start this post, but 11 of the other 12 were free downloads on LastFM so I figured I would grab those before I begin. Not knowing any of these artists from Adam, I fully expect to be deleting the lot as soon as I am done - but even at 12 tracks it only clocks in at half an hour and the track titles are pretty fantastic so it is worth a punt.

I start the listen and am confronted with waves, then synths. It does not make me think of Myanmar, but the sound suggests that Psy-Sci is probably an apt name for the artist. It is pleasant enough until some really bad harmonics cut in towards the end... weirdly the first two tracks seem to cut together. Was this a mix in origin rather than just a sampler/compilation?

The music continues to tend to the odd, I suspected as much, but Cowboys Still Matter is more tuneful. The whole thing has an air of the forgettable about it though.

Medusa Palace Casino's track is less offensive than I would expect from the title, though there are some uncomfortable chords and dissonant sounds emerging throughout. I won't be sorry to see this go.

"The Van Allen Belt" is a great band name, and Solar Crosses... is the first track from the album that I think is any good. Cowboys was alright, this is a step up. The construction of the tune, layering of sound textures and pulling together of the different pieces works. I am sad when it segues into another tune, especially one a lot worse, as it does. Despite that, by the end I am into the rhythm of This is My Cancer.

Orangebox's track is a little atonal in places but otherwise quite lovely, so I go download another free-through-LastFM track which I shall add to the end of this listen since it was from another compilation called 30 days (and is thus the first item to be acquired after the point I would encounter it in the project)... oh, wait. That album is also made up of largely free music. I guess I will grab the lot and come back to it in the next post. Time to Fire Isiah was the tune I already had, I think as a result of having a Nathan Michel track on another compilation somewhere. I am not enamoured of it, but it is better than most of the rest here.

The final track I have (there are 13 on the full disc according to LastFM) has the best name but uses some really horrible vocal effects that mean it is also a definite dumper. In summary, I expect to keep just 3 tracks here. Orangebox, The Van Allen Belt and Ernest Gonzales made those. The rest are gone. Free is always worth investigating, but the price of acquisition is not a reason to keep a hold of something!

20 Massive Hits - Toots and the Maytals

Track List:

1. 54-46 That's My Number
2. Dr Lester
3. One Eye Enos
4. Alidina
5. Pressure Drop
6. Sweet & Dandy
7. Bam Bam
8. Night and Day
9. Monkey Man
10. Monkey Girl
11. Peeping Tom
12. Gold & Silver
13. Sun, Moon And Star
14. She's My Scorcher
15. Pee Pee Cluck Cluck
16. Do the Reggay
17. If You Act This Way
18. It Must Be True Love
19. Time Tough
20. Funky Kingston

Running Time: 62 minutes
Released: 2000

The first "best of" in this list. A considered "I should widen my exposure in this direction" buy. Reggae is not necessarily a genre I have a huge amount of time for (though there is more than just this album in my library) so this stands out a bit in that regard.

That reminds me of a Meta post I might make in a few entries time about how useless genre-typing can be in music, and therefore why I have refused to use any in the labels. For another time.

I am quite glad most of the tunes are short. As I launch into the listen it strikes me that too long of any one groove here might cause me to lose interest. However if each song is over before the repetitive nature of the backing track gets too old that problem goes away, and there is definitely a magic quality to Toots' voice even if a lot of what he is singing appears to be nonsense on first contact. This feels born of is place and time... it is not sunny here at all and it feels like this album would be better accompanied by a strong sun and lazy day. Alas; 1 of 2 is not sufficient.

I reckon that as the tracks go by I will recognise a lot more musically that I do by name - either from random plays in my history or through exposure in wider media. At the moment though, I find that listening is not prompting much in the way of intelligible thought to commit to type. It is pleasant enough but not engaging me... it feels like maybe there is an element missing in many of the tracks; something to sit over the groove and encourage tuning in rather than tuning out. I cannot quite put my finger on it.

Reading up on their LastFM biography, I had not realised that the Maytals were around for the birth of reggae as a term, if not as a style. Of course, that could be half-truth or outright lie for all I know.

Ah, Bam Bam... this is familiar though I can't think what it is that sampled it, for I am certain it is a sample that I recognise not this rendition. Food for thought; it may annoy me. I suppose I could Google it but I do not like admitting a failure of my recollection when "I'll get it, I just need a moment". Hah!

Night and Day is a very different sound, and hey there is more going on too, or maybe it just seems so because the relative levels are different. Either way it is a much more interesting listen, though paradoxically also less pleasing a track.

Whilst I can see the appeal of this music as an accompaniment to chilling, it does not quite do it for me. Trying to articulate why: the patterns are repeated pretty reliably and consistently. This is great for helping you zone out and lay back. However I personally find that most of the time the strength of the bass (a great plus-point for many fans, I am sure) is just a touch too much for comfort. Meanwhile the staccato nature of the melodies I find to be less conducive to relaxation than a smoother sound that flows over me.  That would be fine if it encouraged an "active" attention in that chilling - but as mentioned above, in most tracks here there is not enough going on in those melodies to make my ears stand to attention. This deconstruction is more about what I look for in a relaxation tune than a critique of the style and it goes some way to explaining why this listen is not really working for me. I suppose the other side of that is that I am not even trying to relax, really, since I am typing this. Maybe I should leave the keys for a bit.

I think I picked the wrong time to do that... the chicken crowing at the start of Pee Pee Cluck Cluck (what were they thinking?) was an unpleasant call to attention. ... Nah, sitting back is not helping; wrong music/wrong mood to relax - though It Must Be True Love is much more suitable for that.

I do not expect to clear Toots and the Maytals from my library. I think that if I was to hear the odd tune now and again I would appreciate it more than now, listening to 20 back-to-back. I do not dislike it, I just do not find an hour of it either stimulating or relaxing. I can hear the differences between each song well enough (and for that it is certainly better than, say, The 5th Exotic) but there is a sameness to proceeding through this collection that transcends that and that I find hard to communicate.

That trend is bucked a little bit at the end of the album somehow - I think it may be down to more recognisible songs - but not enough to dispel the overall impression.

11:11 - Rodrigo y Gabriela

Track List:

1. Hanuman
2. Buster Voodoo
3. Triveni
4. Logos
5. Santo Domingo
6. Master Maqui
7. Savitri
8. Hora Zero
9. Chac Mool
10. Atman
11. 11:11

Running time: 45 minutes
Released: 2009

So apparently dedications are their thing, since this album has one for each track, too. Rodrigo y Gabriela get to be the first to appear twice in this list (before I began I expected that to be Sigur Rós) by virtue of using numbers. Woo.

Actually the dedications are the point here. 11 songs dedicated to 11 artists that inspired them. Cool idea for a theme, though I do not recognise most of the artists concerned (Pink Floyd and Hendrix are the exceptions).

It is quite a big, brash start. Hanuman dives right into a bigger sound than I recall from 9 Dead Alive but then again, that's probably because my speaker was not connected properly and it was using the brassier laptop speakers instead. Still, right from the first note there is a lot going on. Again. I am expecting not to like this as much to be honest;  the liner notes make it seem much more of a love letter to heavy metal from two fans, which means it is more divergent from my interest. However it remains mostly acoustic and intricate and interesting... just a little less so.

I never cease to be amazed by how much sound duos can produce, and how two musicians can appear to be playing 4 or 5 parts if they are really good. I first noticed this in a completely different genre and style with Jon Spiers and Jon Boden's combination of fiddle and melodion (with foot stamps for percussion) but it is present here too. Less noticeable for me because of the similarities in the instruments each is playing but definitely there. I guess it appears in larger groups too, but the impression is stronger the fewer people there are to contribute.

Logos is an interesting departure in sound, one I was not expecting. Much more open, free, melodic and less busy. It is also shorter, and a transition I thought was a bait and switch was actually WMP ticking over to the next track. This makes for an interesting section, but frankly a less enjoyable one. I am not sure whether that is because I have preselected what I want from this pair and this feels like a departure from that, or just a lesser appreciation for these tracks without a bias. I am also in a strange mood this evening, which does not help. Dog tired, I would be in bed if I thought I would sleep through - but it is only 21.40 and the last two nights have been a perfect illustration of going to bed early making me wake early (03.30 this morning). For that reason, I suggest, my opinions may not be fair tonight.

Master Maqui starts differently again, the balance lying with the percussive, before sliding back into more familiar weighting. It is more staccato in effect, and until the sections where that fades into the background, I do not enjoy the track. I am rather relieved when it ends, as my ears feel like they have been boxed.

When Savitri starts and my subconscious immediately goes "same; bored now" I know that I am not being fair. If fair reviews were the point of this exercise I would stop at this point, but that is not what these Listens are about, so I plough on, forcing myself though another 15 minutes or so and trying to bite back on harsh and unwarranted words. From an intellectual standpoint this is probably my favourite track on the disc so far despite that initial reaction.

I feel like I should have a glass of wine and be sitting back curled up, feet under me, not leaning forward at a keyboard though when Hora Zero reaches the two minute mark, had I been so positioned my sofa would likely now be stained. The elements of 9DA that had me purring are still here, but I have mostly been missing them. Most tracks do generally still contain multiple sub-tracks and variations that almost feel like distinct pieces joined in seamless medley.

Not so much Chac Mool - short, sparse; like Logos an odditiy amongst the larger sounds that surround it. Atman, which follows, I was expecting to be the most Metal on the disc (a result of the guest musician and dedication) and the least enjoyable as a result, but in practice I am pleasantly surprised and actually it may be my favourite... for the first 4 minutes at least. Then the (I guess) guest electrics come in and I am bored immediately (see the comments on 9DA re guitar heroes). When they fade there is an interesting echo, but the attention is long lost.

11:11 is the Pink Floyd dedication. Floyd will show up a fair bit later on so this should be interesting, but I cannot help but feel that the track is not long enough to be dedicated to prog! The tune turns out to be interesting enough. I can hear hints of the space present in a lot of David Gilmour's playing and there are echoes of High Hopes. Oddly it fades to keys, that feels somewhat out of place - for the track, for the album and for the dedication - but actually it brings a pleasant curtain down on the album, and my efforts to be productive this evening along with it.

10 Songs for the New Depression - Loudon Wainwright III

Track List:

1. Times Is Hard
2. House
3. On to Victory, Mr. Roosevelt
4. Fear Itself
5. The Panic Is On
6. The Krugman Blues
7. Halloween 2009
8. Middle of the Night
9. Cash for Clunkers
10. Got a Ukulele 

Running Time: 29 minutes

Released: 2010

His middle name is Snowdon. Loudon Snowdon... wow, what parents!

I recall I first heard of/saw Loudon Wainwright at the Cropredy festival in (I think) 1998. I remember him being an engaging performer, funny and interesting, but I recall none of the music played. I only picked up any of his music a decade later, after I had become familiar with both Rufus and Martha's work (I have mixed feelings on both). I do not remember what prompted it... probably impulse and seeing a familiar name in the "new releases" list, but almost certainly influenced by his offspring's work.

This whole work is a shill on economic hard times, "cashing in", and with a short total runtime at that! These songs, this artist, is more about lyrics than the accompaniment. Not to say he cannot play or sing (though no-one would claim he is superb at either) but more to say that it is really not background music. If you are not listening you will not appreciate it. It is the kind of album perfect for this project... except that as I type, and consider my words, I am missing too many of his.

Not all of the lyrics are clever or brilliant but they are considered and used to paint pictures in bite-size pieces. I appreciate the use of lyrics in this way, even if 90% of my music consumption means I miss it. Yeah, songs do not need any lyrics, let along intelligent ones, to be good... but if they have them it opens the door to a whole different way of appreciating an artist's work. I am sure we all have songs we love lyrically or musically but not both.

There is more depth musically here than I initially gave credit for. Nothing particularly complex but more variation in style and approach than I remembered or expected. As you might expect, it is all rooted in folksy, bluesy tones - which fit the theme perfectly, by the by - but tempo and approach change from song to song and that is actually a pretty important touch here, to elevate the listener above the temptation to get bogged down in the less than cheery subject matter. I like that most of the songs are really quite short, too - another light touch that helps the album sit together well.

Middle of the Night is probably my favourite track, its core refrain of "It's not the end of the world/it's just the middle of the night" is pretty no-frills, delivered many times with different inserts, but it has a simple truth to it, and fits snugly in a simple, twangy sound. Cash for Clunkers follows it and it's the only one I honestly dislike. The title is blah, the delivery is blah, the backing is blah. However these days, only one "bad" track on an album seems like a good return; I own several like 9 where the decent tracks are outnumbered by the dross.

I would never place Loudon Wainwright III as one of my favourite artists, but you pretty much know what you are going to get and either like what he does or don't, and in my limited experience of him (one gig 16 years ago and only 3 of countless albums), I do.

9 - Damien Rice

Track List

1. 9 Crimes
2. The Animals Were Gone
3. Elephant
4. Rootless Tree
5. Dogs
6. Coconut Skins
7. Me, My Yoke and I
8. Grey Room
9. Accidental Babies
10. Sleep Don't Weep

Running Time: 67 minutes
Released: 2006

Sheesh, this is the best part of a decade old now, and there has been nothing of note since. Wikipedia suggests even this second effort was only at the record company's insistence. Looking down the track list stirs some memories. 9 crimes evokes strong memories and in times past I found solace in the fierceness in Rootless Tree and Me, My Yoke and I. I wonder where those memories will stand once I listen anew?

Mind you I remember some dross too, and the 21 minutes assigned to the last track suggests a whole heap of silence before a disappointing secret track (I don not remember if there is one). I hate that practice, by the by. Aside from being outdated in the digital age, it was never a reward for the listener, it was a penalty of having to put up with playing a silent track.

Why it did not appear before 9 Dead Alive in this list I do not know. WMP and its crazy ways. Amusingly Damien Rice apparently gigged with Rodrigo y Gabriela, too.

The gentle keys that start 9 Crimes immediately put me in the right mood for this. On this track, I am sure, my memory will be lived up to - although I find Rice's voice a bit off for some reason when it makes its entrance before it smooths out. There is a pleading quality here that reminds me of past times and low feelings if not specifically the relationship trouble it seems to hint at. The song is over before it has begun and I almost want to restart the listen.

I always hated the line "I love your depression and I love your double chin". It feels lazy, it feels trite. It feels like filler. Yeah - I was never a fan of The Animals Were Gone. Musically it does not inspire, lyrically it feels like a whine. A kind of pernicious whine at that... eating away at friendships by claiming to be hard done by. It is probably not a fair criticism but its the one that comes to mind. It is the kind of song that makes the idea of Rice being pressed into making this record ring true. And yet... and yet.

Elephant reminds me of Amie, from O. Apparently it was originally The Blower's Daughter part II, but it feels like it has more in common with Amie - and that puts it on the side of songs I like (not that I dislike The Blower's Daughter), even though again the lyrics feel forced in places. Admittedly I have not listened to O for a fair old while and so the comparison may be made on the basis of false memory.

Ah, gratuitous swearing, where would we be without you? Yeah I am not looking back with any pride on taking pleasure in the obscenities screamed out during Rootless Tree. It is hard to deny there is power in the delivery though and the overall effect is still cathartic. The more aggressive vocal works with Rice's voice to make a pretty compelling sound, but there is no repeat of the solace that I used to find in the tawdry "f*** you" refrains. It sits particularly badly with just having heard that my niece is in hospital after an accident and that may scupper their family holiday plans. To which end I need to pause now.

Phew. Picture through, she's OK and smiling, though going into exploratory surgery as I type. Fingers crossed for a full recovery. Nowhere I can get to to offer support, alas, other than to be on the other end of a phone.

The high points stand out pretty far on this one. Rice is more compelling when imparting anger. A slightly tinny sound ruins Me, My Yoke and I but it is the tune I remember, and so the three pillars that supported this album when it came out all seem to be in place still. In between is a bit of a mix. I missed Dogs (which I recall liking in the past) and Coconut Skins (which I never cared for) amidst thoughts and worry but I heard enough to not go back through them again specially.

I cannot get into Grey Room, although it has a couple of nice moments and then it gives way to Accidental Babies which, despite being a piano tune of the sort I tend to like, I find dull as anything. The playing seems flat, the vocal uninspired and the general sparse, slow and gentle tone is such a let down after the white hot burn of earlier tracks. The harmony on Sleep Don't Weep is better at making the quieter track more interesting but not much more so. The song eventually peters out before the 6 minute mark and so to the 15 minutes of guff added on the end; ambient sound gives way to a piercing warbling note which is really quite unpleasant. The effect is eerie but uninteresting, unsettling and uncomfortable. It is anything but clever and actually worse than several minutes of silence leading in to a secret track would have been. The tone eventually changes but does not improve and does literally take up until the 21 minute mark. What a load of complete tripe; pretentiousness and audience hostility summed up in a couple of wavering notes.

It is severely tempting to trim my library of several of these tunes even before I subjected myself to that outro but I shall stay my hand for now as I am not keen on partials for wholly irrational reasons. Made more irrational by the fact I have been ripping content to cover up some partials, whilst creating more (though admittedly only for singles which only contained several versions of the main track). Yeah - that provides the answer to my dilemma below, which means until I get through this project any random plays are going to have a higher level of frustration and skipping than before.

I just realised I never mentioned Lisa Hannigan, though she appears in the labels - she collaborates here as she did on O. I do like her voice a lot. Oh well. Bigger things to worry about tonight.

Meta: A Dilemma

So before I get out of the "numerics" I need to make a decision: do I rip those albums that are not part of my electronic library but are in my physical library? Most (but maybe not all) of those are omitted for a reason - namely that I grew away from them before I was routinely ripping bought music and so had no driving reason to commit them to mp3. The sensible thing to do would be to leave them where they are... out of earshot, out of mind.

Yet somehow that does not seem quite in the spirit of the endeavour. Things that do not pass a quality test, but which were bought more recently are in, so why should I exclude the older stuff that is now of lesser interest? There is a school of thought that suggests that negative posts could be more interesting and much as I might have to endure a few hours of aural displeasure, there is definitely a glee to be found in penning a derogatory response.

As that suggests, I am already leaning heavily to ripping the missing material. In fact I have already pulled out the discs that I think comprise the missing cohort so that I may start ripping them at my leisure. It will take a while - there are more in the pile than I expected - so things may start appearing out of order unless I get a move on. I would need to mark them out if so. I best get going, then?

I can always silently skip them later, whistling innocently, if I really cannot face listening to them, right? Sure. The big problem that leaves is the debris in future random plays. Yes, there's a load of junk there now, and yes I spend a lot of time skipping already; do I really need to exacerbate that problem? I suppose that if I rip them, listen, and then delete them, and plan to do so with existing content, then problem solved, right?

Something to chew over this evening... maybe I can cut down the list to stuff that is missing for some other reason. Maybe I should just suck it up. Maybe I should stop thinking so far ahead when I am barely started. None of that sits well with my psyche though. Hmm... decisions, decisions.

9 Dead Alive - Rodrigo y Gabriela

Track List:

1. The Soundmaker
2. Torito
3. Sunday Neurosis
4. Misty Moses
5. Somnium
6. FRAM
7. Megalopolis
8. The Russian Messenger
9. La salle des pas perdus

Running time: 40 minutes
Released: 2014

The first current year album in the list, and interestingly one where every track apparently have a dedication. Quirky. 

I am looking forward to this as I have not had a chance to listen to any of these tracks yet. I've heard them once each, but not listened.

And it's straight into hooks that remind me of the moment I first saw Rodrigo y Gabriela. I was watching a BBC program on world music (yeah, I know) and they featured somewhere. I do not recall exactly where, but the clip was of them with their guitars just launching into something acoustically; from the Beeb's Glasto coverage one year. I was immediately smitten and rushed to order. Then did not really pay attention to what arrived. My bad. It will all be rectified soon, as they will be the first artists I listen to twice in this project.

A five minute track is over in what seems like a two minute tornado. The speed and accuracy of the pickings astounds me - as someone who never looked to learn guitar; I was a (poor) pianist in my youth - but because I am no aficionado I would not know where to rank them, nor care to do so. Instead I will just enjoy what is clearly applied talent. It does not even make me wish I could play like that, the way my favourite pianists do. I do not feel that I want to be able to play guitar; I am happy being able to enjoy when others do.

It is funny. I wrote in my last piece that long tracks with not much interest lead to longer rambling posts. This is a short album, full of ~5 minute pieces, and it seems to be going by in a whirlwind; though Sunday Neurosis calms down what had been a blistering pace it doesn't lessen the intensity because my mind is now conditioned to expecting the calm to break.

I have no frame of reference for comparisons; RyG are like nothing else I have in my library. Maybe if I like them so much I should look to expand my knowledge of guitar virtuousos? I am sceptical; I am certainly not interested in electric guitar soloists as a rule. I can never break the association that someone made way back when that it was too much like a masturbation substitute. I think the key with this music is that there are two of them, in tandem... it is not just all about one guy flaying himself to prove his awesomeness. The call/response, the intertwining, the harmonies, the spin offs are all key to my enjoyment here, as is the fact it is acoustic. I guess the flamenco appearance (to uncultured ears) also helps... it places it outside the realms of my biases and preconceptions - of which I am fully cognisant - and thus allows me to enjoy it without feeling guilty, dirty or otherwise compromised (a silly feeling, but since when are humans rational?).

I am amazed how even within regular-length songs there seem to be several pieces. The time is flying by, but it seems to have slowed down in order to allow me to notice switches between tracks that are not even there. I blame that on the awful weather. I can hear traffic slooshing along the sodden road outside whenever the full sound that is most commonly evident in this record dies or gives space to something softer and it makes it seem like they have moved on to something new when that background nuisance fades back behind the wall of twang.

The last track finishes, leaving me feeling empty, hearing the wetness outside and wondering what to do next. I could simply press play again and not be bored but it is time to get on with evening chores and getting into the right frame of mind to go back to work tomorrow after a rained-off bank holiday.

8:30 - Weather Report

Track List:

1. Black Market
2. Teen Town
3. A Remark You Made
4. Slang
5. In A Silent Way
6. Birdland
7. Thanks For The Memory
8. Badia/Boogie Woogie Waltz Medley
9. 8:30
10. Brown Street
11. The Orphan
12. Sightseeing

Runtime: 71 minutes
Released: 1979

The first album in this library released before I was born, and a primarily live one to boot. My copy (which came in a big bundle of jazz remasters) seems to be missing Scarlett Woman. That might be to do with total running time and getting the album onto a CD but it seems a little odd.

I have hardly listened to any off the jazz discs I got in the collection when I picked this up, and that is remiss of me. However I feel that a lot of older music does not really stand up under a modern appreciation: only the best media transcends its time and we see that with badly dated films all the time. Black Market's spangly sound makes me think that I might be right to worry for this.,  Fusion is nothing if not of its time. A specific reaction to and progression from the jazz and electric roots it draws from. As I type, I seem to have encountered the obligatory saxophone solo. I hate the culture of "every player needs their solo" that seems pervasive in jazz; often it will strike in the middle of what is otherwise a fantastic collective piece and (for me) completely ruin the mood. It doesn't seem from first impressions that Weather Report left that staple out. Darn it.

I am noticing that long tracks make this enterprise harder. They are great when you get into them and lose yourself in 9 minutes of musical magic, because the time flies by before you notice. However when their impression is not so strong, and I am trying to actively listen, capture and comment, I find myself with an awful lot of time to think about what I am writing... which probably makes the result less organic and less interesting. I quite like Teen Town though. It is funky enough to keep me nodding my head and look forward to the listens of Stanley Clarke albums later should I keep going to "S" (that will be years away if so). It is also busy enough over the bass to draw me in. Do like.

I do not remember where I got my start in jazz. I remember my parents had Brubeck's Time Out (also due to appear much later in the billing) and I think i must have fallen for it then. Miles Davis cemented it; Kind of Blue appeared on so many seminal album lists that I picked up a copy in my teens and my jazz library grew from there. I find it interesting that I managed to do this, because in many ways jazz suffers from the same problems as classical in terms of accessibility and good purchasing decisions go - a direct result of the lack of mainstream media attention. I struggle to find new interesting jazz purchases to this day, but yet I managed to build up a reasonable library of stuff - from classics to contemporaries, though admittedly the odd box set (like this came in) helped there.

I like that A Remark You Made changes the tone completely - slower, softer, smoother. It is not in itself massively interesting, but it speaks to variation which is a positive. Slang is back to the funkier end of things but in a sparse kind of way that I can approve of. The album is growing on me.


As I try to sit back with my beer (Hook Norton Brewery's Twelve Days - their Christmas ale, but apparently my case will not keep long enough!) and listen, my mind wanders... today should have been a day of social gaming... online Bloodbowl in the league I play in followed by in person boardgames. They both fell through and I'm not too sad about that. Instead I got to play some more Divinity: Original Sin co-op with a friend, and whilst the game is getting more frustrating (imitating all sorts of bad GMing) it's good to spend time with T before I go see him in Stockholm in a couple of weeks; its 10 years since we last met up. Also been X-Comming again just days after I threw my controller in disgust. PC is less prone to suddenly putting me somewhere I did not want to be. I mention all this, because it is also what freed me up to do this listen; had I been out this afternoon as originally planned, I doubt I would be here with a pre-dinner drink to pay attention to this album which I am definitely now liking more than I was expecting to. Sure, some of the sounds are a little cheesy for a 2014 ear but there is love there... you can hear it in the crowd's applause.

I have hit a slow number. I wish I had a snack; I have not yet eaten this evening and the sedate pace of the current work has me thinking about dinner... chorizo burgers, tender-stem broccoli and whatever else I can scrape together to go with. I'm running low on food choices; with a west-facing kitchen it is not pleasant cooking in the full evening sun (a problem that will go away soon, now the evenings are shortening noticeably) so I have taken to sandwiches and the like. I am out of bread though, and in need of a proper meal. Shopping can wait; I have enough to cobble up a tasty accompaniment. The middle of this disc is a little here-and-there, a bit of this, bit of that. It does not feel like it hangs together well.

Wow. The title track starts oddly - a pastiche of folk music, a radio announcer with a British accent and a noisy mess - before it gives way to something more recognisable and reasonable, only to end before it really began. Man, the 70s must have been weird.

I am in the home straight now - Brown Street is the last long one. Pleasant enough I guess, but the bass/percussion combo puts me in mind of a bored wedding disco band rather than musicians enjoying their jobs. Cross that with a hint of pre-Faltermeyer synth heroics (seriously, it is only a step away from Beverley Hills Cop in places, or is that me projecting?) and it leaves me confused. I have to say that (hyperbolically speaking) what sounds like synth-derived steel drums is probably one of the worst sins of the electronic age. I am into the non-live tracks and they have less energy than the live ones. I think I am ready for the listen to end before the disc has run out... I have dinner to get, after all.

Here we go then, last track. Sightseeing should, generally, be a pleasant experience and, for me, a sedate one. The track is not sedate enough for the name. I do not really have any more to add, and now neither do Weather Report... so we meander to an unfulfilling end, just like the album. Seriously - go listen to Sightseeing then tell me you think that is a good end to an hour-plus long ouevre.

The 5th Exotic - Quantic

Track List:

1. Introduction
2. The 5th Exotic
3. Snakes in the Grass
4. Infinite Regression
5. Life in the Rain
6. Long Road Ahead
7. Common Knowledge
8. The Picture Inside
9. Through These Eyes
10. Time is the Enemy
11. In the Key of Blue
12. Meaning

Runtime: 52 Minutes
Released: 2001

So WMP ignores "The" at the start of album titles as well as in artist names when ranking alphabetically; ok. I am not looking forward to this one. I suspect that my taste has shifted enough for me to find this album tedious (and given there are two more to come with the Quantic name on them...), but here we go. It starts with a voice recording intro, so far, so quaint and unoriginal, then quickly moves into the title track which is humdrum, generic electronica. A so-so hook, tinny sounds and occasional voice samples do not make for great interest.

I think I picked this up on the strength of an Amazon recommendation, probably after I fell in love with Bonobo's Animal Magic - an album I still enjoy - because they're in a similar vein. Hopefully my poor impression will be dispelled some and my hostility towards this inoffensive downbeat shuffling might prove to be misplaced.

The problem is not that inoffensive downbeat shuffle is necessarily a bad thing; it certainly has its place. The problem is that it is terrible for actually listening to, rather than providing a convenient low background hum to conversation because so little actually happens to engage the ear. Weirdly this album is likely to prove full of the sorts of tracks I do not skip if the player is set to random, because they work as scenery... just not the sort of stunning scenery that draws you to a place. Each of the tracks is likely to be a touch too long and a whole lot too repetitive to reward paying real attention, whilst having one feature that lodges quite pleasantly in the ear and would have you nodding along as you chat to someone over a glass of wine, or whatever.

The most annoying thing to date (and I am in to track 4 now) is the voice samples - presumably from film or radio. I like the technique, and artful use of such is a feature of some other music that will feature in this blog if I maintain momentum - such as Public Service Broadcasting or Lemon Jelly - but I do not get the feeling that the craft in choosing these samples and matching them to the music is to the same high level here. It is a debut, and I feel that it shows. Every track sounds like it could have been done slightly better by a different artist; the disc as a whole feels like it is constantly missing something. In many ways that is far more mean than is deserved. It is after all not unpleasant, it is fundamentally inoffensive after all. It is just that I am now halfway through Common Knowledge and I do not feel that anything has changed since I hit play, other than it is half an hour later.

There is, of course, a lot more variation to the tracks than I make out. Each one does have a subtly different flavour of inoffensive downbeat shuffle going on... wait, I have just hit one that breaks the mould a little. It's actually a mildly offensive downbeat shuffle instead due to the harshness of snares and a very drone-like overlay. It is just that there is not enough variation within the tracks, nothing that grabs attention and makes you interested in how it plays out or fits with the other elements. Again, this makes it pretty good background music but I cannot help but feel that "good background music" is a goal that any self-respecting musician should shoot for if not explicitly providing a soundtrack or accompaniment piece.

At least the beats have got slight more interesting as the disc goes on and give me something positive to focus on when listening. Unfortunately the melodies have got less interesting at about the same rate, and those vocal samples are still there. As I am being disparaging here, I find it amusing that WMP is actually uprating each track as it plays, by virtue of being left to play right through. I have not got the heart to correct the mistake.

I just hit Time is the Enemy and actually I am enjoying this track a lot more. It is still best characterised as inoffensive downbeat shuffle but there are more layers here, more little things to draw the ear. Beats and melody both have reasonable patterns and there is just that touch extra going on that moves it into the realm of me listening rather than absorbing. It isn't a great track, but it is a good one. Comfortably the best on the disc so far and all the better for not dragging out too long.

I think the real problem with shuffle is that actually it is really hard to do well. I cannot help but think that the percussion on In the Key of Blue reminds me of something. I think it is Three by Massive Attack, but the resemblance is slight. It has kept a higher level of interest than the earlier tracks though, so I feel safe saying that this album gets better as it goes. Meaning closes the album; I feel relieved to have got here; it is classic shuffle, terminated by a vocal sample which actually makes the end feel quite sudden. And welcome.

The 5th Exotic will not be a casualty; the appeal of the shuffle for a shuffled library is strong enough for it to remain. It will never be listened to like this again though. Inoffensive downbeat shuffle has become another unique LastFM tag.

Update: after sitting through An Announcement to Answer and getting through a number more albums, cutting stuff I liked more than this, I have decided to get rid of most of The 5th Exotic, only keeping the two tracks I had something (even mildly) positive to say about.

5:14 Fluoxytine Seagull Alcohol John Nicotine - Malcolm Middleton

Track List:

1. Crappo the Clown
2. Wake Up
3. The Loneliest Night of My Life Come Calling
4. Best in Me
5. Cold Winter
6. Bring Down (Preprise)
7. Rotten Heart
8. Speed on the M9
9. 1, 2, 3, 4
10. Birdwatcher
11. The King of Bring
12. Devil and the Angel

Running Time: 54 minutes
Released: 2002

What a stupid name. I've also noticed that my 4th listen starts with "4" and my 5th with "5". That pattern ends here. Right, with that out of the way, on to the listen.

I picked up Malcolm's solo albums after getting into Arab Strap (or Falkirk's 98th most influential people according to an anecdote Middleton told at a gig I went to) after they started to appear regularly in the LastFM stations I was listening to at one time... Scottish music featured strongly.

I think I grabbed Sleight of Heart first, as it was new at that point then worked back. This is his first and probably his worst (though I've not really listened to Human Don't Be Angry enough to judge...).

I do remember reading a smart alec comment somewhere along the lines of "If Arab Strap was Aidan singing Malcolm's songs, how come 5:14... was shite but L.Pierre's output was good?" but that is awful close to prejudgement. Certainly it's not a strong start. Wake Up is fairly tuneless and Crappo the Clown does not live up to the name. The extended tag list is reflective of backing vocalists, not just related artists. Going in I don't recall hearing Emma Pollock or Jenny Reeve on this Middleton album, but I'll be listening out this time. I own solo work by both and I am very partial to Reeve's voice.

The Loneliest Night... is the first tune that resonates with familiarity for me. It presages the tone and sound that for me characterises several tunes on later albums, and when more polished represents the Malcolm Middleton that convinced me to shell out... at least before it goes all twangy to end.

Huh. LastFM has a "love" marker for Best In Me. That seems a bit strong, though when the backing starts and Jenny Reeve is in harmony I can maybe see it. I also see that someone has tagged it with "Either they have beards or they should have beards" which is the kind of drive-by, bumper-sticker tag that I approve of, and have been known to drop. That said, it has higher take up than any of mine; 47 people? Really?! Only 1 other person has used "could or should be my theme song"... once, and Happy-Clappy Menace is a truly unique tag. Make that had a "love" marker, but another use of cosbmts now that I listen to the lyrics of Cold Winter. It's a pretty good thing I conflated could and should or that would be a bleak list of tracks. Not as bleak as this album though, perhaps. But then what do you expect from a work that puts Prozac at the heart of its name?

Jesus, Bring Down is unpleasant; thank **** it is short. Rotten Heart is more affable, strangely catchy hook to accompany the now familiar self deprecation. Over very soon, and into more bleak. No guitar, just a piano for Speed on the M9 and a whole bucket of loneliness. I can relate to the emotion, but I don't really think that the delivery works so well and the laughter at the end is a freaky switch-a-roo.

Is it wrong of me to want this listen to end? Not because I am not enjoying it, but because I actually want to go pick up re-reading the Albion RPG (from Silver Branch Games). I've been trying to get myself keyed up to run an RPG again and the mixture of mild post-apoc setting with British folklore is seductive, even though I'm not sure what I would use for core events in the setting as described. Not long to go now anyhow as I'm listening to Birdwatcher. It feels like the vocal performances mature through this album but they are layered over very hit-and-miss melodies, beats and bass and the overall impression is something of a mess, and one that does not encourage a dedicated listen... hence the wandering of my mind.

"I'll never amount to anything [...] and my songs are shite" - its one hell of a self assessment. It is funny what depression can do to our minds. I do like the way that Middleton has used his music to tackle this over the years, but this is a pretty harsh end to the album. I never did identify Emma Pollock's contribution.

Overall? Yeah, it is not great. Pretty glad he carried on doing stuff though, 'cause he definitely improves.

4 Tracks - Steve Smyth

Track List:

1. Scarlett Roses

Running Time: 4 mins

Released: 2008

Yay, free music!

I do not know Steve Smyth from Adam, but I do know that this was, indeed, a free LastFM download (and is still available as such). What pointed me in this direction I could not say, though since Adrian Crowley is listed in similar artists that might have some relevance.

Sounds like generic blues/rock as it starts. Vocal reminds me of Ron Sexsmith. An awful lot of Ron Sexsmith. An awful Ron Sexsmith who cannot sing. I have never used Sexsmith 4 times in a paragraph before. Adrian Crowley does not appear to be relevant.

Of more interest than the music, at least to me for this project, is that this is the first "singleton" track; there are almost certainly more. It also hints that WMP, which I use to manage my library despite it falling over with scale a bit, treats numbers at the front of album titles as numbers rather than strictly alphabetically, even when combined with letters to make words/units/measures.

Sorry Mr Smyth, but free though this was, I'll be deleting it now but leaving the link above so others might find it and perhaps form their own, better, opinions of Scarlett Roses and your work. Generic music and awful vocal do not make me want to hear it again. Unfortunately it somehow took me 5 plays to determine that... I can only conclude I was AFK for the prior 4.

... And They Have Escaped the Weight of Darkness - Ólafur Arnalds

Track list:

1. Þú ert sólin 

2. Þú ert jörðin            
3. Tunglið             .
4. Loftið verður skyndilega kalt
5. Kjurrt
6. Gleypa okkur
7. Hægt, kemur ljósið
8. Undan hulu
9. Þau hafa sloppið undan þunga myrkursins

Runtime: 43 Minutes

Released: 2010

So this appears after ... Waltzing Alone because for some reason I had it in my library with no space after the ellipsis. I'm not playing with the order just yet!

I have not listened to this album in full in about the 4 years it has been since it released, and I cannot recall what turned me on to his work but even so I am supremely grateful that something did. Ólafur Arnalds is probably as close to classical music as I have in my library - not because I dislike classical music, but because I find identifying what I like, and more importantly which version played by whom to acquire to be almost impossible in the context of making acquisitions. 

Arnalds is contemporary and I like the "pop song" length of most tracks on this disc. I also imagine it to owe far more to the landscapes of his native Iceland than to any classical traditions. The music is full of space, which my mind's eye sees as big Icelandic skies. That space allows the notes to shine - listening now I have that sense that I can hear each note perfectly as if they were words in a conversation rather than the individual letters that composed those same.

I am excited to listen again. Þú ert sólin is emotional for me. Right around the time I picked this album up, my grandmother died after a battle with cancer and the melancholy yet melodic tune is forever associated with the feeling of bereavement from that. However it is not all sadness - the memory is tempered by the fact that she was ready to go, a day short of 90, and that she was better for no longer suffering. Somehow, this track manages to convey this feeling, too - so tightly wound is it with the immediate aftermath. I am certain that this is an interpretation brought by my mind and memories and I care not a whit if there was any such intent.

Of the album in general, it really is quite a sad work in tone. Strings and keys arranged to tug heartstrings and dampen eyes; the strings wailing, the keys lamenting. What I like about Arnalds though is that over, under or behind this you will find a treasure trove of other sounds... I swear I heard recordings of the sea just now... and was that recorded applause at the end of Kjurrt?

The formula for each track is much the same; a bit like beer: same ingredients in different mixes to get substantially different results. It's midday now, and I am off work sick, but otherwise that comparison would have me reaching for a Hook Norton ale... I have far too much in the house right now as a result of a birthday tour of the brewery 10 days ago. Fascinating place, still running with a lot of Victorian machinery and horse-labour to produce some very fine beers year round, and a stable of seasonals.

I am just starting to feel that the melancholy was getting a bit much to listen all the way through in one sitting when the inclusion of more obvious percussion lifts the timbre a touch to the benefit of my ears. Gleypa Okkur feels much more like a soundtrack piece as a result; not more modern, but more attentive to modern sensibilities, at least until the denouement. It is as this track ends that I realise each piece segues into the next cleanly. I wonder if the album is one work and the tracks just artifacts of convenience. I go to look this up, to stumble over a review pointing out that it was inspired by film - so soundtrack is not a million miles away from the point, then. I find another link that suggests that there is a "story" to the whole work, but that the songs are indeed separate and various in age. The transitions maybe planned later, or happy coincidences, then.

After a couple of welcome tracks with deeper arrangements that have blown by whilst I was off looking for that information I find myself back in the trench with the sparsity but the tone is definitely different now. Less melancholic. The string line is still lonely and the piano is still slow, but the sounds are warmer, maybe tinged with a slight smile. I buy into that story idea, and again linking it back to a film as inspiration that does not feel like a leap. I have enjoyed this a lot - and doing it in daylight rather than the darkening gloom of evening and whilst that little bit more awake has meant that the directions of my thoughts have been more purposeful, less lazy. Alas, that is not always an option.

The final track (an Icelandic translation of the title phrase, apparently) is just drawing to a close. The end refrains are pleasant. I think the muted brass interjection was a poor call, though.

... Waltzing Alone - The Guggenheim Grotto

Track list:
1. Philosophia
8. A Lifetime in Heat

Running Time: 8 mins
Released: 2005

I do not know where I picked this up from and can only suspect one of 2 things:

1. A free download from LastFM; or
2. Sample music that came with WMP on a new PC sometime in the past.

I only have 2 tracks from the album, and listening to Philosophia for what I thought was the first time, but which LastFM suggests is actually the 10th in 6 years, I wonder if I should not pick up some more.

It is genre-tagged as folk; I am not sure that fits. They have a pleasant sparse, lo-fi sound though, and as A Lifetime in Heat starts I am reminded of Nick Drake by the softness of the vocal. There is nothing like the same level of craft here, though.

I also had no idea where the band were from until I Googled them. Ireland makes a lot of sense as they fit snugly with the quieter moments of Damien Rice and Lisa Hannigan. I could see them providing a reasonable soundtrack to a chilled evening lounging around somewhere. However I think I will pass on getting any more... there is not quite enough interest to warrant a purchase.

( ) - Sigur Rós

Track List:

1. Vaka
2. Fyrsta
3. Samskeyti
4. Njósnavélin
5. Álafoss
6. E-Bow
7. Dauðalagið
8. Popplagið

Runtime: 71 mins
Released: 2002

Yes - first thing - I have named the tracks. Last FM suggests I am far from alone in doing so.

Second thing that comes to mind is that I've seen Sigur Rós live once... probably heard some of these tracks. Don't really recall it at all, overshadowed as it was by the fractious nature of the friendship I had with the other person I was at the gig with, and the fact they were then unknown mid-afternoon support for a lineup that culminated in Radiohead's homecoming gig. That was 2001; this album came out in 2002 but their blurb says they were playing these songs for a year or more before that so... I only remember thinking "whalesong", for which I now am ashamed and full of regret.

I don't remember when I first really heard Sigur Rós and became a convert, but this album was almost certainly key to my doing so. I do regularly indulge in tracks from it, though 90% of that does tend to be either the superb closer or the supremely touching Samskeyti. Listening back can't help but feel the opening two tracks of the album are quite weak and that I'm going to end up concluding that my favourable overall impression is heavily weighted by the two standouts.

The arrangements are sparser than memory alone would have me believe - there's depth there, but it doesn't sound as lush or as layered as in my decade-old nostalgia. I do remember always having trouble discerning the tracks from each other - not because of the initial lack of names, but more because the vocals used from song to song have a certain reliance on similar sounds. Or possibly this is just my mind playing tricks again.

Samskeyti just started and immediately I am sucked right back in... and the keys have not even kicked in. When they do, shivers and goosebumps follow. It is just a spectacular melody. Always reminds me of the closer from Heima - their film. I want to say those visuals are of the group in a candlelit studio, but I don't trust my memory. Maybe I should re-watch it, it's been a while. I don't remember the sharp edge to the guitar line in my idealised recollection of the track; it's not unpleasant, just at odds with the softness and splendour of the piano.

Got distracted during Njósnavélin, jarred back to conscious thought when it ends; rather sudden cut-off to what is otherwise a very pleasant piece... but which gives way to the mournful drone of Álafoss which doesn't quite sound right as I listen in a relatively brightly lit room!

I have strong memories of walking in the rain listening to this album on the way to and from campus whilst I was in Bath doing my PhD. Those memories appear to almost entirely revolve, as my strong enduring love for it does, around a minority of the tracks. Also, the further I get through this listen, the more I think my earlier comment about the vocal stylings in each track being similar is reflective of how the human brain does not let memories go, as such, but rather twists them as pieces are lost - precisely the kind of activity that got me interested in neuroscience to begin with... not that I'm sad I left it behind: research really didn't agree with me. 

I am getting impatient. Not because Dauðalagið is bad, but because it isn't Popplagið and I am more in the mood for an uplifting cathartic climax than a dark, brooding number. The problem with this exercise is that I know what is coming and it pressures my "skip" trigger when what is up next is something I would much rather hear. That is, of course, precisely the point; listen to it all. I am sorely tempted though!

Patience brings its reward - that riff just cuts to my soul and the arrangement and drums gradually fill in and reach my consciousness. I could listen to this track on loop for a very long time before getting bored. I am certain to call a hundred plus songs my absolute favourite if this project lasts and this is the first of those pretenders. In some ways it has a less powerful effect than Samskeyti - no goosebumps this time - but it leaves a more lasting impression. This, I am sure, was not part of their set back in 2001... it can not have been, surely? Bloody hell... seems like it might have been. They list it as "the pop song" in a 4 track set where "untitled 8" may refer to Samskeyti if cross-referenceing with another entry in the list. Now my regrets from that day are amplified.

Drums kicked in; eyes closed; breathe deep; relax. 

Silence now, the album is finished. All I can hear is the tapping of my keys and the whirring of the laptop fan. Typing on this machine is annoying - far too easy to hit the trackpad by accident and I have had to undo and/or retype several sections of this post as a result. The silence is interesting though... it's filling my awareness in a way that it would not had I played Popplagið when the player was on a random selection from my library and so is re-enforcing the idea of an end. This in turn has me reflecting on the piece more - by which I mean the final track, but also this writing.

I think I have enjoyed this process, but starting with an album I like a lot feels like cheating. There are some other interesting items in the 20 more titled collections before I get to "A" but none of them hold my affection in the way ( ) does. The album clearly stands up still, but listening to it in full for the first time in several years has me less impassioned than I was. Three tracks stand out, two shine very brightly indeed (Njósnavélin is the third). I cannot bring myself to un-tag it from "favourites" but it only hangs in there by its fingernails.

Meta: An Introduction

This blog is to chronicle my attempt to actually listen to all the music in my library.

The thought was inspired by reading a forum post by a guy who was going to make the effort to play every game in his Steam library because in these days of digital distribution it is all too easy to buy things you never even look at... and that's a waste.

I've absolutely no inclination to copy that idea directly; much of my own Steam library is untouched and will forever remain so (along with my GOG shelf). However the idea of making good on a resource that is already in place is a compelling one, and I am very aware that despite being mostly still rooted in buying physical copies (I like collecting things, what can I say?), the majority of my music goes sadly un-listened to. That is, I guess, a given result of the scale... my library stretches at present to 16,000 tracks, 47 days of continuous playtime; it's not massive and I'm not claiming any kind of immense size but this is more than large enough that, on random, most stuff never appears in any given listening session.

However it is also a result of me spending less time listening these days, and my habit of skipping 5 tracks for every one I listen to when I do start the player going doesn't help. I actually listen to more in the car, where my penchant for still buying CDs helps out for the moment, than I do at home. The purpose here though is to listen to everything in my data library whilst sat at home, not to cut corners by using my commute or by simply writing up things I know about already.

The purpose of blogging the project? Partly a driver to do it, mostly a positive creative exercise to keep me busy. Of interest for others: there may be some but lets face it, there's none in most blogs and I make no claims of difference. The library itself is suitably varied for this sort of project; running a gamut from folk to prog, from spoken word to jazz and indiepop to electronica. I like to think I have a reasonable taste in general (a definite dearth of classical, mind)... but that does not mean that anyone else will care or find my thoughts interesting.

The intention is to go through my library in alphabetical order by album or collection in order to make it easy to keep track. There will be some breaks with this - to avoid long streaks from the same style for example, or to ensure that new purchases don't get missed. I will start knowing full well that I am unlikely to finish, that I may not even get to anything interesting. I'm not a music critic and will not pretend to be one. The text that comes out may at times resemble reviews, but at others may have nearly nothing to do with the music that inspired it and much more to do with the memories or emotions it sparks. This should lead to varied content, as and when I publish anything and the exercise should be an interesting one from a personal point of view.

I am certain to run into music I no longer enjoy, and force myself to listen to them anew. I am highly likely to find things I forgot I had or which are by people I have no knowledge of. This is all part of the intellectual appeal of the project. It is a voyage of discovery, a vocation and a creative, constructive project. It is a folly; a monument that cannot be completed that will fill a dark corner of the net until it gets wiped. It is an escape, but also a mouthful too big to chew. It is a nice idea, a journey to enjoy.

It is all very personal - as our reactions to music should be.