a mountain of song: stuck in my head

Showing posts with label stuck in my head. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Seasonal Mix-Tapes

I love making mix-tapes.

ok, so technically they're mix-playlists which I make into mix CDs (because I refuse to get an ipod adapter for my car- there is just something about having to change the actual object making the music... I would have a tape deck if I could, but apparently they don't put those in cars anymore...) but the sentiment is the same. I still spend days (or weeks) gathering the songs and then hours putting them in the 'right' order, checking transitions from song to song then whittling them down to fit within the required 1.3 hours (another reason cds/tapes are superior to playlists- having to make them fit a specific time limit forces you to cut the fat!)

I enjoy making mixes for the car in general, but I've developed a habit over the past few years of making seasonal mixes that bring together all the random stuff I've been listening to. As I get songs stuck in my head I pop them onto an ipod playlist entitled "Spring 2012" or "March-May 2012" or just "Now!" I love listening to the mixes the day after I make them (and usually on and off for several weeks after that...) but theres nothing like finding "spring 2008" at the bottom of a pile and popping it in the player. Its like my own personal time machine, with every song bringing me back to a particular moment in my past.

With that said, I just finished up just one such random mix for the car ride home for easter. As promised it is a fairly random mix of songs I've had in my head over the past few months, some old, some new, but all attached to something I'm going to have fun remembering in a few years when I find it in my glove compartment :o)

Perhaps unsurprisingly (what with the pervasiveness of the internets now-a-days) I actually managed to find links to every song (with the exception of my friend Phil's 'Zombie Smooth' but hey there's a link to download the album, and its free, so go for it!). Play the whole list or select one at random!

Enjoy!

Easter Mix 2012

Thursday, January 19, 2012

Bobbie Gentry shows us the importance of leaving a little somethign to the imagination...

I heard Ode to Billy Joe on the radio the other day and have not been able to get it out of my head.

This song really hits home for me in a way I have never been able to fully understand or explain- a feeling strengthened by the video with its emphasis on the nuclear family and the detachment created by living the 'modern' family life (not to mention its references to the work of one of my favourite sculptors, George Segal). Its the same way In which I strongly identify with The Man in The Grey Flannel Suit or The Great Gatsby. Maybe its having grown up in the suburbs, the child of two parents who also grew up in the suburbs. But then again, I've never really felt that I had a suburban upbringing, there was no meat-veggies-and-two-types-of-potatoes, no long summers spent wasting away in the backyard or making small talk with the nosy neighbors (though I have owned a series of ramshackle cars since the moment I could drive, and have a certain affinity for bicycling down the middle of the road). I'm not quite sure why it feels like a life I connect with, but connect with it I do.

There's something about how the story is told, something about the mix of hope and despair, matter of fact straight talk and fuzzy suggestion. Its a thing I've talked about before- the storytelling style of country music- something I feel myself drawn to time and time again, both inside and outside of the traditional country paradigm. There is something about it that approximates real life in a way that pop music doesn't- a way that addresses the honesty of life. That it is not all ups or all downs, not all an endless party or endless trial, not all of any one thing really, not any one thing at all. Its something found in the music of Jack White, Elliott Brood, Cuff the Duke, and most bands that count old school country as one of their references. Even bands marginally influenced by Johnny Cash or Bob Dylan, bands like Sam Roberts or The Decemberists, bring that sort of rounded story telling to their songs.

Perhaps ironically then it is the habit of not-painting-the-full-picture that most closely ties together the styles of these artists. The ability to give the pertinent details while leaving the rest up to the imagination. I heard they tried to make a movie out of An Ode To Billy Joe and it failed miserably, unexpectedly because the song is so full of opportunity, such an intriguing story full of complex mystery. Problem is when you take away the questions, the part left up to the imagination, you take away the magic. Too often we forget the importance of what we ourselves bring to the experience of artwork, of songs and paintings and novels. We bring ourselves. And what could be more important?

Monday, June 13, 2011

The Quiet Epicness of the In-Between

I get weird things stuck in my head. Okay, plain ol' songs = not so weird. But getting phrases stuck on repeat in my brain seems to be somewhat more unusual... It all started in grade five with 'Help I've fallen and I can't get up!' and has progressed from there. The latest? "Willie, Why did you give me campylobacter!?!" It just comes out of nowhere, and I start giggling to myself and everyone thinks I've gone bonkers... thank you John Green.

Hybridized-songs is another favourite category- I have one going on in there and it just morphs into another- then of course I can't hear either of those two songs without hearing my mash-up version instead. The other day I was singing I Could Never Be Your Woman by Whitetown to myself, complete with clarinet/synth riff sung in doo doo dee doos .... when somewhere along the line it turned into the death-star theme from Star Wars! Now I am aware (from the reactions of friends I was with at the time) that no one finds this as entertaining as I do, but its just so unusual to get startled by something that's in your own head... how could I not find it hilarious? Alright, now I really am starting to sound like a crackpot...

Aaaaaanyways, what I actually meant to be talking about is the more pleasant phenomenon of a stuck-in-your-head-song reminding you of something you haven't heard in years, prompting you to re-listen to a long forgotten but much beloved tune. I have recently been chain-listening to There May be Ten or Twelve by A.C. Newman. The absolutely lovely lyrics and the slightly epic musical arrangement are awesome in and of themselves, but they also very very very much remind me of Oysrterband's album Holy Bandits.

Now I'm not a huge fan of Celtic music -I'm sure I've mentioned before that I love bagpipes but can't stand fiddles- but this lack of enthusiasm is easily trumped my love of Oysterband. Epic riffs, sad yet beautiful lyrics, pounding drums and haunting tunes that stay in your head for days... Re-listening to the CD reminds me not only of the time I spent in my fourth-year studio blaring 'Road to Santiago' (and having friends express confusion at the uncharacteristic Celtic-ness of the music) but also of the worlds to which I was always transported when listening to their songs. Not the philosophically-laced fairy tales of The Shins, nor the Grungy Detroit of The White Stripes, or even the Ontariario of Elliot Brood, but the vast in-between that rests somewhere betwixt the real and the imaginary, betwixt fable and fact.

A.C. Newman similarly creates this feeling of within. Of being, not a fly on the wall, but being actually in between the feelings and the words and emotions of the situation, floating in the invisible waters of intangibility. Such a short song, so few lyrics, but believe me, the feeling of epicness rivals that of Homer. And no I don't mean the cartoon one.

There May be Ten or Twelve by A.C. Newman

There are maybe ten or twelve
Things I could teach you
After that, well, I think you're on your own
And that wasn't the opening line
It was the tenth or the twelfth
Make of that what you will

Once there was a haunted loop
Of your deep, fallen tears
A forehead resting on a record shelf
Amid moving boxes stacked
I'm still waiting for the right words
Make of that what you will

And the eyes they were
A color I can't remember
Which says more than the first two verses
And it is the devil you know
That will slam the door harder
Make of that what you will