The Epic Detour that is making car-mixes

So I recently read Amy and Roger's Epic Detour- yes I know its YA fiction, but I am kind of on a huge YA fiction kick right now and have stopped trying to justify it because YA FICTION IS AWESOME. Seriously. Why are so many amazing authors writing for teenagers and pre-teens? Nevermind, I don't care why, I will read their books anyway and enjoy every last one of them. Ok, so maybe not every last one. maybe just the really good ones. but there are lots of them! LOTS!

Back on track here- I'm not going to tell you too much about the book, not because it wasn't excellent, but because that's not really the point of this. All you do need to know that the book is about an epic road trip which, like all good road trips, involves a lot of listening to music.and there are lists. Tracklists of the playlists. Lists of the lists. Also lots of other random ephemera that I completely fell in love with, but the lists, the tracklists!

In situations like these, the Garden State Sondtrack  situations, the High Fidelity situations, the times when you read something or watch something and its soundtrack just resonates with you you are presented with this amazing opportunity to discover a craptonn of new music, music that you not only enjoy as individual songs, but music that you enjoy as a collection, whose particular bands get to become a part of the type of music you like, not just the albums you have on our ipod. What I don't normally expect, is to see lists of music in a book populated by groups and songs I already know and love. Sure there wasn't any Elliot BROOD, but there was plenty of The Decemberists, Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin, Sufjan Stevens, Frightened Rabbit, Pedro the Lion, Carla Bruni... not your normal run-of-the-mill bands, but also not your normal-indie-darlings either. Sure there was some The National in there, but the randomness of everything else just made me want to listen to every song in the book right then and there. Author Morgan Matson not only hit upon a musical recipe that happened to resonate with me, she was also right on in the important relationships between roadtrips and music. Music Mixes, Road Trip Mixes to be precise.

Music puts quotes on your life. Not for everyone, sure, but for a lot of people, myself included, there is something about the right song at the right moment that can make you cry, make you smile, make everything make sense in a way that few other things can. On top of that there is something about listening to music in the car, about taking the music with you, about how the relationship between the lyrics and the tune and the landscape become reciprocal... (Like how I cannot hear Graveyard Train without being transported to a five hour drive through Algonquin park having left all of my other cds securely sitting on my dresser... You wouldn't think that Australian Horror-country would make me think of the Canadian shield and fields full of cows, but now it does. Just like Snow Patrol is a tire graveyard in Cape Breton, and Eve6 means three am in the middle of the summer driving down the 404 ).

There's the pre-existing album relationships sure, but those created by the mix tape are even stronger. Because each song had to have some sort of significance to you to end up on the tape to begin with, some reason for being. And then you get to experience the changing of that relationship, the slow shift from "I loved that song Amy played at that party" to "This song is a place, is a road, is a specific time and a specific place during a drive I'll never forget."

As an aside here I'm just going to mention that I AM aware that no one makes mixtapes anymore. I realise that now its a mix CD or more often a mixed playlist on your ipod, but I am always going to call it a mixtape because thats what they are to me and thats how I approach them- carefully crafting the song-to-song transitions, the lengths of the album, balancing how many you've got of each band, each type of music, making one for keeping you awake, one for sunny days, one for the rain, one for snowstorms... I've got nothing against youngins, but I would be lying if I didn't say that I instantly have a certain level of respect for someone if I find out they grew up making actual mixTAPES.... Because its both the act of creating the mix and the process of its transformations that makes it so special.

Amy and Roger... made me want to take an epic road trip, sure, but what it really made me want to do was sit down and spend hours and hours creating new car mixes and then take them out for a stroll, listening as they shift and change and become places in my memory. What more could you ask of a song?

Judging a Band by Their Artwork

Art means a lot to me. Pretty much everyone who knows me knows that. People who talk to me on the street gather that in about the first five minutes... I feel that the art someone makes (or for that matter chooses to display as a part of themselves- in their home or in association with something they have created like a book or a CD) says a lot about them as a person- obvious statement I know, perhaps even a bit trite, but I mean in in an actual way. Like seeing someone's artwork, for me, helps me understand them better than anything else does.

Over the years I have likewise noticed that choosing albums based on their covers has never let me down. Now I know that it goes against the tried and true saying, that parents and teachers everywhere cringe as I type these words, but when taken quite literally (as in judging actual books or in this case CDs) I find that time and time again if an author or a band likes their art, and I like their art, I will also like said band.

So. I just discovered ('just discovered,' like not five minutes ago just discovered) that the artwork for my favourite band (Elliot Brood) is, in fact, all created my the banjo player and co-lead-singer of the band, Mark Sasso. This is 1) odd for me because I have loved this band for about five years and I'm not quite sure how I was not previously aware of this fact and 2) particularly odd, seeing as how they are my favourite band musically (on my bike, in the car, in the summer, in the fall, live, on cd, basically just best. yeah, just best) but also by leagues my favourite band artistically (well, by leagues I really mean that The Decemberists are a very close second, but that these two bands are leagues ahead of all the rest... incidentally I also just recently found out that all of The Decemberists' illustrations are created by the wife of lead singer Colin Meloy!).

I love this artwork. I have a limited edition, beautifully hand-made release of their album Ambassador, which I bought the first time I ever saw them in concert, and lovingly display on my bookcase. When they're setting up for a show I peer around other concert goers to get a look at their set pieces, the bass drum image, the carved chair... The first thing I do when I buy one of their CDs is open the cover and pull out the innards to see what they've done this time (sometimes a train schedule, other times a hand written note...). I even decorated my bike helmet with Elliot Brood inspired designs. Their stuff has such a great sense of narrative (just like their music) and nostalgia (just like their music) and frontier aesthetics (just like their music) and quirkyness (wait for it...... just like their music).

I seriously love this band's artwork. Seriously. And finding out that its made by someone in the band makes me love them even more than when I thought they just liked it too.

Its kind of weird when you think you can't love something more and then get proven wrong. Of course I guess that happens often when you read/listen to things covered by artwork you love... 'Can't judge a book by its cover' my ass!

Tiny Chipmunks, Tiny Chipmunks Inside of My Heart

So at Folkfest last night I had an experience which has become strangely familiar to me over the course of the past few months- that of falling completely in love with the band playing on stage. At times its with a band I already adore (I am not sure that I am actually capable of explaining how much I feel about Elliott Brood...) or one I have never even heard of (hi Graveyard Train. Yes. You are crazy awesome.  Mostly Crazy. But also Awesome.) but it is a feeling that can be topped by very few things in life. Actually that statement is mostly assumption, as I am simply guessing that seeing your kid for the first time ought to feel better than falling in love with a band, but I would also not be surprised if it felt exactly the same... that's how much I love this feeling.

The most recent subject of my adoration (type two, the "never before heard of them" kind) is Punch Brothers. Its the mandolin, its the banjo, its the low voices, their olde tymey suits and their charming ways that combine to make a magical wonderfullness that makes me so excited that I sprinted from one end of the grounds to the complete opposite corner (in the middle of their set) to purchase a CD, then ran all the way back, missing only one song ( Rye Whiskey is a perfect example of a song of theirs that elicits such a response from/in me...).

And its not just an idea, its not just a feeling, its an actual physical response. I was trying to explain to El what I meant by that and this was the best I could do- their songs make me feel like there are tiny chipmunks running around inside of my heart. Like their little tiny hands are kneeding the inside of my chest, hugging and tugging at my heart strings. Crawling around in there like its where they belong, like they always live there, only they don't let me know it unless they're really really happy. I don't know if that makes any sense at all, but its exactly what it feels like, and it feels both wonderful and super weird all at once. It came out of my mouth, this explanation, and it seemed the only and most perfect time I have ever described the feeling.  And its a feeling I've had before. Its a feeling I've had about music (about certain bands or certain songs) for quite a while. About Sam Roberts, about the White Stripes, about the Decemberists and the Shins, but recently very often about Elliot Brood, Old Man Leudecke, Dry River Caravan and Graveyard Train. And so I found myself suddenly wondering; how why and HOW did it take me so long to realize that I love adore and LOVE bluegrass music!?! 

I am happy being someone who likes many different types of music (I would never say "I like all kind of music" cuz to me that's just something someone says if they don't really like music at all...) , but I always used to add the caveat "but not country, never country"- and that made me happy, I was ok with that as my definition of my sphere of music-liking. Except that it was never true. Big Wreck takes a lot from country, as did CCR, and The Lovin' Spoonful- all favourite bands of my youth. The first time I saw "Oh Brother Where Art Thou?" I did nothing but listen to the soundtrack for weeks... 'Jackson' by Johnny Cash has also been known to lodge itself into my skull and not let go... and don't even get me started on banjo- oh banjo! the most inexplicably sexy and wonderful instrument on the planet.

So I'm giving up another part of who i thought I was, taking on yet another thing that the teenage me would have not only scoffed at, but quite possibly never-spoken-to-me-again over- I no longer hate country music. Pop Country- the Carrie Underwoods and the Kenny Chesneys of the world- is still safely outside of my sphere of like, but prog-bluegrass, death-country and alt-country? I likes em. There I said it. How can I not admit to liking that makes my tiny heart chipmunks so happy?

Classifications of Systems

My sister once asked me how I would classify (aka organize) music if I could do it exactly the way I wanted... At the time I said by imaginary environments (like Elliot Brood would go in the 'saloon town' category and 'Portland' would expand to include all bands that sound like they should live near The Shins or The Decemberists...). I would still most certainly keep that as a type of classification, but I would also add another: weather.

Today was grey and cloudy- not quite raining, just that kind of sitting-in-a-mopey-cloud kind of day that makes you feel melancholia (though not sad) and spacey (though not slow) and (for me at least) buzzy with creativity... the kind of weather that always makes me want to listen to music and paint. Today my band of choice was The Decemberists. All of The Decemberists. Every CD, every EP, all in a row, all day long. (Even The Tain, a thirteen minute epic of story-telling genius). And it was awesome.

[sidebar: I absolutely love listening to The Decemberists and so much of that is because they always make me feel like making things- painting, drawing, sewing, building... and in such a way that I actually do make things! Today it was a big painting of a whale with a living room in its belly. Tomorrow? Who knows- but its a great feeling to have and even better to know all I have to do to bring it on is whip out a certain discography...]

So in the category of cloudy (but not rainy), cool (but not cold), and laid-back (but not sluggish) kin-o-days I put forth The Decemberists, entry number one. Add to the list as you see fit.

Soul-Time-Sing-A-Long

I love to sing along with songs. You know this about me (and possibly about yourselves!) though I don't think I wrote that quite properly... it should read:

I LOVE to sing along with songs!!! 

There are many things that make me happy, but this would be top five, maybe even top three.... actually more like top two. I love it so very very much. Very much.

There is something about singing in the car specifically.... in the summer, windows rolled down, driving way over the speed limit, with the music so loud your ears are ringing and singing so loudly that your voice goes hoarse (I actually once sang so enthusiastically to 'Bicycle Race' by Queen while on the way to work that I lost my voice and had to write things down for the whole day...) and I can't even put into words how much joy this brings me. I have tried on several occasions and just never seem to be able to quite capture it... However, on a recent road-trip I re-heard one of my all time favourite songs (I'm not afraid to admit it, its uber 90s alternative, and not exactly the most profound thing ever, but I can't help it, it speaks to my soul!) and was reminded of all of the things I love about singing in the car. As cheese as it is, this experience is so fully encapsulated in Open Road Song that I feel the need to block-quote it...

"I crack a window and feel the cool air cleanse my every pore, as I pour my poor heart out to a radio song that's patient and willing to listen, my volume drowns it out. Yeah but that's okay, 'cuz I sound better than him anyway, any day. Yeah my voice is sweet as salt. I search for comfort and I find it where I found it many times before, though times before can be forgotten..."

Its the singing-along part! The you-drowning-out-the-music part!  The finding-comfort-in-pouring-your-heart-out part!

Back in high school all of my car-songs needed to be of a certain type to be able to 'work'- loud, fast, rock. Thats's what car music was to me, but my car-music tastes have broadened vastly in the interim... From Sons and Daughters by the Decemberists to Valley Town by Elliott Brood they have widened to include songs that paint sweeping vistas, that use intricate harmonies and gut-grabbing melodies, not just those that are loud and fast. And yet the all important lyrical factor has remained unchanged. I know many people who would disagree with me on this, but lyrics are as important to a song as the melody, the production values, or the instruments its played on.

I sing along with songs. You need good lyrics to sing along to, and I need to sing along for a song to be real to me. Singing along is how songs seep into my soul and become an inseparable part of me. Its how they transport me in time (Semi-Charmed Life), its how they make me homesick (Oh Alberta), its how they make my heart burst (Wake Up)...

Two of my current favourites are Ghosts by Laura Marling and Gentleman by Said the Whale. Neither are all epic, neither are all loud, neither are what one might call all hard-core... but both have absolutely sweet and beautiful lyrics that melt my insides when I hear them and even more so when I sing along.

Whether the song is quietly beautiful or heart-thumpingly exciting- that feeling of flying down the open road, singing at the top of your lungs.... perfection.

The Apparent Finality of Finally Seeing One of Your Favourite Bands...

I've been to a lot of concerts. Actually really a lot. I've been to so many, I've started to forget what bands I've seen (seriously, who forgets whether or not they've seen Green Day?), or how many times I've seen them (is Sam Roberts up to eighteen or twenty...?) so there aren't many of my favourite musicians I have not seen. Even fewer when you narrow it down to my absolute favourites. In fact, the Decemberists were almost alone on that list. Until yesterday!

I used to live out east. the Decemberists are from out west. They don't go out east, especially not Canada's out east... when I lived in Vancouver I almost went to see them in Seattle- then didn't. I almost went to see them in Maine- then didn't. Then i was planning on moving to Ontario. and they were playing in Montreal. January 31st. So I decided I'd better be moved in by January 31st, because there was no way I was going to miss them a third time...

The show was amazing. It was magical and loverly weirdly melancholy just like they are. they even played the Mariner's Revenge Song, one I have been wanting to see live since I first saw a video of them play it at a concert (the video below, actually! and I'm not ashamed to say it inspired a living-room puppet show complete with sets, sock puppets, and paper cut-outs...). I sang myself hoarse and danced my feet sore and had the time of my life. Then it was all done. Apparently for a very long time.

The Decemberists are taking a break. Its due to sad circumstances as one of their members has cancer and needs the time off to get well again. I didn't know this when I bought the tickets, I didn't know this when I rearranged my moving-house so that I could go see them. I didn't know this might be my only ever chance. I didn't know I would have such a fantastic time. alright I had a sneaking suspicison about that last one, but anyways...

Its great when you discover a band through a live show, its great when the first time you see them is the first time you've ever heard of them. the first time i saw Arcade Fire no one knew who they were, and it was weird and magical and invigorating, just like their music. So maybe its fitting that the first time I saw The Decemberists in concert it was beautiful and haunting and happy and just a little bit sad, just like their music. Maybe that's how it always goes. Maybe that's just how it works.