Write sentimental/long-winded posts about music you love

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I still need to listen to College Dropout and Late Registration, neither of which I've heard.

I love Kanye.


cobbler, cobbler, cobbler...




:wink:


i was going to sit here and ramble on about the importance of the clash's self-titled album (in both its uk original and us singles collection incarnates), however, i'm not really in the mood to do that anymore. gonna go read a book instead.
 
i was going to sit here and ramble on about the importance of the clash's self-titled album (in both its uk original and us singles collection incarnates), however, i'm not really in the mood to do that anymore. gonna go read a book instead.

Aww. :( I love that album.
 
Aww. :( I love that album.

i don't even skip "remote control." it's not perfect, especially album-wise since i don't even know what the proper album order is anymore. and when you do go with just the straight-up uk track list, you leave off WHITE MAN IN MOTHERFUCKING HAMMERSMITH PALAIS. #1 clash song, somewhere in my top 5 all-time favorite songs. right in front of straight to hell (which is why m.i.a.'s "paper planes" ranks at the #1 most awful thing i've ever heard) and death or glory. i think rudie and garageland would round out a top 5 favorite clash songs list, but that's subject to change and highly dependent on mood or biased toward something that i might be listening to at that very moment.

one of the oddest comments i've ever heard anyone say about early clash is "wow, this isn't really that heavy at all." not because i agree or disagree with that opinion, just because i don't even sort of know what to do with that statement. this was coming from a friend from work. his music knowledge is very...i don't know what to call it. limited. not to mainstream rock radio, or whatever pitchfork's hipster flavor of the day is, but limited to a very strange conglomeration of straight edge hardcore from the 90s and...well, i'm not really sure he knows much more than that. he's really into the national right now because he got caught up in high violet while i was playing the fuck out of that album, on a completely random note, but one night i decided he needed a punk rock history lesson. so in addition to having to re-educate him on all the other (and better in my opinion) hardcore there is out there (which in and of itself is a chore because where to begin? 80s so cal, the DC stuff, NYHC, etc. not being really in the mood to listen to agnostic front or minor threat, i decided ok, i got him really into the national. and his reasoning for liking them is great, because it has to do entirely with that intangible feeling a really awesome song has that makes you need to tell everyone around "omfg this song is soooo goooooooooood," and then feel personally insulted if the person you're talking to is anything less than equally enthusiastic. so i figure well, what's one of the few bands that i feel that strongly about? well, there are a few. but i'd assume most people have heard of them...hmm....what. you don't know any clash songs at all? well, i know what we're going to listen to...

the clash, of course. sure, there are others. and it's not to say that i think everything on all their albums was flawless. at times, sandinista is too long (although i wouldn't trim nearly as much as some people would, and i can also respect the complete epic nature of "oh yeah, well we did the double album thing at normal album price, and other people are doing the double album thing...so we're gonna do a triple album!!!" that too many drugs and too little production oversight spawned. that thing is a beast, but it's a beast with some very, very good highlights), and there is very little off combat rock that i actually enjoy. no, i won't turn the radio off rock the casbah or should i stay are on, but i won't put them on myself. and really, unless you're "straight to hell" i tend to avoid that album as a whole.

now, it's far too easy to go on for paragraphs on end about how great london calling is. there have been many clash threads around these parts in which that has been done (unfortunately, mostly conversations between mofo and myself with random interjections from other people, but usually just us). it's one of those albums that is wholly deserving of its classic status. i'll skip "lover's rock," because it annoys me, but otherwise, everything on there is good. some songs better than others, but i've even warmed up to "the right profile" after not being so much of a fan for a while.

so, the self-titled album. ok, so, when i was in high school i was pretty crazy about the local 60s throwback pop rock scene (despite not being often able to go see any of these bands play because they almost always played 21+ shows). we had a number of excellent record stores in the area, and oddly enough the setting for this story is the only one still in existence in the same building/town as it was 11 or 12 years ago. this used record store had a pretty decent couple shelves of local bands' stuff, and one day i was waiting for some slow couple to migrate away from the country section because they were blocking my access to the local shelves. i don't know why i didn't simply ask them to excuse me, reach in and snag the cd i was going to buy. i would have been out of there in 30 seconds. no idea. and honestly, i never even thought about that until now. and i've definitely thought about this before, because as much as i hate to say it, it's somewhat of a defining moment in my music-listening life. since those two were in my way, i strolled around and looked at other stuff, alphabetically. i got as far as C and thought hmm, the clash. yeah, i'm supposed to know them. i knew that i didn't like "london calling" at the height of my "anyone who says anything negative about the beatles should be tarred and feathered" obsessiveness. i distinctly remember laughing and thinking 'my, i was a silly child when i used to think that. if i had kept that opinion, i never would have realized how awesome rem are.' i don't remember if there were some people standing in front of the Rs, but that might have been what deterred me from filling out whatever had been missing from my rem back catalog at that point. but i knew that rancid, the dropkick murphys, the pogues, bad religion, bouncing souls--my favorite bands at the time--owed a lot to the clash. i'd just read some interview with some band, can't remember exactly who, talking about how they were confused for the longest time over the pronunciation of "garage" in "garageland." so picking through the pile of cds, i went for the album that had that song on it. i figured that if anything, i'd toss it in one of the listen-before-you-buy cd players and check it out.

so yeah, i was sold by the time i got to "deny." for some reason that song clicked as holy shit, need this album now. i'm not sure why, it's far from the best song on the record. but followed up with "london's burning," and "career opportunities," and...the aloha steamtrain, who??? hell, i'd even forgotten about garageland.

it's bugging the hell out of me that i'm pretty sure i've mixed up this trip to the record store with at least one other, and subsequent dinner at my grandma's. i've tried to sort out the years based on well, rancid 2000 came out in...2000, and the dropkicks' sing loud sing proud early 2001, so it could very well have been what saved me from going off on some rant at my ultra-religious great aunt's insane post-sept 11th my-flag-is-bigger-than-your-flag-so-clearly-i-love-america-more-go-USA! i distinctly remember getting some enjoyment out of how angry she would have been if she knew there was a song called "i'm so bored with the usa"--meaning aside, just the title alone would have killed the woman. but it doesn't explain how summer of 2001 i was writing clash lyrics and song titles on clothes with sharpies. and it would have had to be summer 2001 at the latest based on when i had the money to buy a bunch of albums, and the last summer i worked the particular job full of people who laughed at me as i went around doing landscape work with "police and thieves" scrawled on my sleeve. either one sounds like a good argument chronologically speaking, and pokes giant holes in thinking it was the other year. but there are definetly pictures of me from 11th grade playing frisbee in a dropkick murphys shirt, so i have no idea. my concept of time is fucked, and it doesn't really matter.

no, i guess it's not as "heavy," the heaviness in later punk rock coming from a much more prominent bass line or something i guess, and less reggae/dub influenced (once paul simonon learned how to play it, and stopped taping the notes to his fretboard) one. or more distortion on the guitars, mick jones' lead always sounded pretty thin in the mixes, perhaps? i have no idea, because a live performance of "career opportunities" will make that whole argument explode. the self-titled album still sounds...i don't think i want to say fresh...but crisp? ugh, either way it sounds like i'm talking about a fucking head of lettuce. what i'm saying though, is that it doesn't feel worn out even though i've heard it a million times. and even compared to the rest of their stuff, even in regards to certain LC or give em enough rope songs that i like much better than certain self-titled songs, "hate & war" might not hold a candle to "clampdown," but i've still got a slightly more special attatchment to the former. in no way am i making any claims about it being the origins of punk rock, or attempting to discuss any sort of historical merits other than personally it being important to me.

now, let me tell you about how much i fucking loved the mescaleros' albums. :lol: i'm not going to say i rival the most rabid u2 fans in bono-idolatry as the clash is to joe strummer, but when he died i definitely did think "shit, joe strummer can't die. gods can't die" for a moment before i realized how ridiculous that sounded. when i was in elementary school, i wanted to be paul mccartney. when i was in high school, i wanted to be joe strummer. i guess that's more like it.
 
can i write a wall of text, or can i write a wall of text!?

i think there's a phrase for that...tl;dr? oh, yes.


that's as sentimental as i'm likely to get these days. maybe if i'm ever drunk enough, i'll impose on anyone foolish enough to read it why sadly the barenaked ladies were just as important to me at an earlier point in my life, but probably not. yeah, definitely not. i'd have to be really drunk, past the point of being able to type.
 
Wow.

I don't think I've met anyone extremely into the Clash (with the kids at my school...it's art school...I can never really tell if they're into a band or if it's just cool to them or not mainstream, or something) and they're not one of my all-time favorite bands, but I definitely get how they were changing the genre so to speak. And generally good musicians. I'm imagining it would be a totally different scenario if I'd been musically aware before Joe Strummer died...anyways. It's kinda nice to hear an explanation from someone's pov who's a serious fan. Or at least of that album?
 
can i write a wall of text, or can i write a wall of text!?

i think there's a phrase for that...tl;dr? oh, yes.


that's as sentimental as i'm likely to get these days. maybe if i'm ever drunk enough, i'll impose on anyone foolish enough to read it why sadly the barenaked ladies were just as important to me at an earlier point in my life, but probably not. yeah, definitely not. i'd have to be really drunk, past the point of being able to type.
You can write one hell of a wall of text! I love your stories, iDub. Funny how you discover things you end up loving by chance. I discovered Jawbreaker from a webcomic.

There's a term for that level of drunk: "Womanfish drunk".
 
Wow.

I don't think I've met anyone extremely into the Clash (with the kids at my school...it's art school...I can never really tell if they're into a band or if it's just cool to them or not mainstream, or something) and they're not one of my all-time favorite bands, but I definitely get how they were changing the genre so to speak. And generally good musicians. I'm imagining it would be a totally different scenario if I'd been musically aware before Joe Strummer died...anyways. It's kinda nice to hear an explanation from someone's pov who's a serious fan. Or at least of that album?


definitely the band, not just that album.

hell, i delved into their solo stuff as well. i've been known to dig some big audio dynamite, friggin loved the mescaleros stuff (not so hot on the other strummer solo stuff), and even managed to dig up the havana 3am album on cassette at one point (no, it wasn't really worth it, but i did think it was cool at the time).

You can write one hell of a wall of text! I love your stories, iDub. Funny how you discover things you end up loving by chance. I discovered Jawbreaker from a webcomic.

There's a term for that level of drunk: "Womanfish drunk".

:D


it's not so much that i'd actually have to be shitfaced, more that i'd have to find my way back into that mindset and trust me when i say it's healthier for everyone that i'm not there anymore.
 
definitely the band, not just that album.

hell, i delved into their solo stuff as well. i've been known to dig some big audio dynamite, friggin loved the mescaleros stuff (not so hot on the other strummer solo stuff), and even managed to dig up the havana 3am album on cassette at one point (no, it wasn't really worth it, but i did think it was cool at the time).



:D


it's not so much that i'd actually have to be shitfaced, more that i'd have to find my way back into that mindset and trust me when i say it's healthier for everyone that i'm not there anymore.
God, I love The Clash. I so love The Clash. I have Streetcore on my Punk List spreadsheet, too. I should log into that and mark the ones I've listened to.

I know what you mean. I could nerd over so many bands that would get nothing but a WTF? reaction out of everybody else.
 
I know it's a bastardized non-album, but I like the US version of The Clash's debut more than London Calling. Amazing stuff.
 
I don't care for white people reggae.

I'm assuming that opinion can at least stay here.

Somehow, it wouldn't surprise me if Interference had a wealth of UB40 fans.

You know, except for the militant types that think they just staight up stole the capital "U" to be used in the bandname.
 
The Sad Punk said:
Somehow, it wouldn't surprise me if Interference had a wealth of UB40 fans.

You know, except for the militant types that think they just staight up stole the capital "U" to be used in the bandname.

Not to mention the numbers. 4 and 0 average out to 2, you know.
 
I have yet to hear The Clash's debut, but I do really enjoy the singles from that era. And it seems as though the critical consensus places it at just about the same level of esteem as London Calling.

But LM, how could you prefer the US version? I thought that you were a purist, man. :wink:
 
I am, but Clash City Rockers, Complete Control, and (White Man) In Hammersmith Palais are just that good.
 
Ever since this thread came about, I knew I wanted to add something, but being lazy/incoherent/whatever, I'm only here now, just before the end of the year.

This year was always gonna be momentous music wise, as sometime in August marked 30 fucking years since I heard Gloria for the first time, on alternative radio, and yes, it changed my life!!! Back in the Stone Age, it was things like discovering an alternative radio station on the dial, finding a late night music programme on one of the 3 commercial channels available that played music that was off the radar, finding a three month old Melody Maker at the city newsagent, that could provide those life-changing moments. And I heard Gloria, and that fade in, and that guitar riff, and the kitchen utensil middle break, and the lyrics that could have been from a straight love song but then on second listen you realised they weren't, and it all added up. And I fuckin' loved it from the get go. Then in October, 3D radio started playing tracks from October, and I went into the indie record shop in the city and found Boy, which I bought Summer 81/82 and the rest, as they say, is history.

Through that discovery of that single, I discovered more "left of the dial" bands from the UK, US, Ireland, bought NME and Melody Maker religiously, bought Hot Press and got to know about a gazillion Irish bands, Ireland's ancient history, Ireland's 80s history (of progressive thought fighting the institutionalised barriers of church and state) and honed my own views on politics, religion, gender, love, hair colour, yep I became a 60s second hand clothed, black haired gothy, leftie, greenie, atheist supporting gay whale marriage and wanted to shag lots of skinny pale guitarists.

Best thing that this journey I embarked upon has given me? An overwhelming love of music. I never cease to be amazed that I can hear a song and just fall madly in love again and again. This year I discovered the National, and each song I discovered of theirs got me in the gut. Seeing them live cemented that love.

And it continues. Last night and well into this morning, I was looking up videos on Youtube of Bono and company busking for the third year on Grafton St Christmas Eve. Bono was the impetus for me searching but I didn't end finding Bono. I found Glen Hansard, who I've loved and admired since seeing him live with the Frames (supporting Dylan) and of course, in Once. And then I discovered Mic Christopher, an Irish muso and mate of Glen's who died in 2001. And I discovered Heyday, which the crowd sang on Christmas Eve.

And through Heyday I've discovereda source of joy again. We can be cynical and blase and dismissive, because it's easy, but to have joy can be hard. Not because it's Christmas or because Hallmark tells you you have to, but just stopping and listening and being in the moment. I give you 3 and a half minutes of pure shared joy expressed in a Youtube video:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7gDCF9tqx1U&feature=share

Go forth and be happy, peeps :cute:
 
I never cease to be amazed that I can hear a song and just fall madly in love again and again.

That's precisely what I love about music, too. I love those songs that, when you first hear them, literally make you stop what you're doing and take notice, or songs, new or old, that you feel an urge to play 20 trillion times over and over and over. And last night my mom heard a song again that she hadn't heard in years...and she still knew all the words. Music is just awesome.

As is this idea for a thread. I shall think about what I'd like to write about and get back to this at some point and time.
 
You know that feeling you get when you listen to an album for the first time and it’s everything you hoped for and more? That’s how I felt upon listening to Rubies. Eschewing the dreamy pop that would come on Kaputt, Rubies shoots for classic rock, and lands somewhere beyond it, thanks to unique Destroyer flourishes and Bejar’s penchant for head-spinning songwriting.

At 10 tracks and 54 minutes, it’s longer than your typical LP, but not for a moment does it outstay its welcome. Pitchfork argued otherwise, but there isn’t a single sub-par track on the record, though admittedly the first half is better than the first.

Perhaps – in fact, most certainly – the reason Destroyer hasn’t come even remotely close to mainstream success or even crossover is because of Bejar. The majority of music listeners don’t particularly enjoy being challenged; Bejar throws curveballs constantly.

There’s the completely nonsensical lyrics that are as endearing as they are entertaining – never has reading a lyric booklet been so much fun. The intertextuality – most of Destroyer’s songs contain multiple references to other Destroyer songs, not to mention the myriad of film, literature, music and art references for the keen-eyed.

Such dense lyricism would normally make it very tough for a listener to appreciate a record on more than a musical level but the amazing thing about Bejar’s lyrics are that they manage to be affecting, in spite of themselves. Take the manic opening lines on “Painter in Your Pocket”.

And I’m reminded of the time that I was blinded by the sun
It was a welcome change from the sight of you hanging like a willow off the arm of yet another visionary, profitous East Van. punk


Under all the verbosity, it all comes back to the same most Destroyer tracks do – girls. There’s something in that that everyone can relate to – no one enjoys seeing the person they like with someone else, in this case a well-to-do bad boy from East Vancouver.

“Painter in Your Pocket” is a break-up/unrequited love affair song, and a brilliant one at that. After the strained vocals of that opening passage, Bejar sings yearningly to the object of his affection over soft drums and a gorgeously simple guitar line. About two-thirds of the way through, it breaks open and becomes one of my favourite indie rock/pop tunes.

The album’s opener, “Rubies”, is nine minutes long and changes tack a number of times. It’s a great example of how Bejar takes what could a simple song and turns it into something more memorable, never allowing the listener to settle.

It begins with guitar distortion and a typically colourful Bejar lyric, “dueling cyclones jacknife / they got eyes for your wife / and the blood that lives in her heart”. The song never returns to this form, giving way to a prodding Spanish guitar sound for the verses, full of wonderful, amusing asides – “shadowy figures babbling on about typical rural shit”, “Priest says ‘please / I can’t stand my knees / and I can’t stand her raven tresses caught up in the breeze like that’”, “I gave my cargo to the sea / I gave the water what it always wanted to be” – which culminate in searing, wholly cathartic guitar riffs amid a cacophony of ha la da da’s. This all ends at six-and-a-half minutes, when Bejar slows things right down, lightly strums the Spanish guitar and muses about brooms, drawings, gratifying dust, golden slumbers and more ha la da da da’s for the next three minutes. Solemn perfection that manages to never outstay its welcome.

Anyone who was lost in that final three minutes should come back around with “Your Blues”, the second track, however. Its upbeat pop melody gives the album a shot in the arm and doesn’t sound much different to the types of songs I imagine they would have played at the indie barns back in the olden days, what with its jumpy, rollicking piano and classic rock guitar line. More Bejar oddity too – “Endangered ape / a couple years in solitary never really hurt anyone / distinguished colleagues / dead music-writers’ brides / I apologise”.

The following track, “European Oils”, is one of my favourite songs of all-time. A strange thing to say considering I’ve probably only known of its existence for about a year, but it’s no exaggeration. Built on a melancholic piano line, this gorgeous tune strolls along heavenly, Bejar wistfully musing about “all the incompatible cells I could take”. The chorus, like many on the album, is more ha la da da’s, amid quickening piano strokes. Duelling guitar riffs, horns and pianos close out a majestic masterpiece, perhaps Destroyer’s best tune.

Another reason that I love this album is that it recalls a lot of late 60s, early 70s David Bowie. It’s plain to see in the piano flourishes, the elaborate lyrics – you could see Bejar penning something like Cygnet Committee – and even some of his vocal affectations. “Looter’s Follies”, with its slow, romantic piano-led waltz and touching lyrical moments – “kid you better change your feathers / cos you’ll never fly with those things” – is the best Bowie song the man himself didn’t write.

The second half is slightly less amazing, though far from ordinary. “Watercolours Into The Ocean” is a gorgeous relaxing tune that literally sounds like wading into a vast sea, with no real direction, just a girl’s watercolours as guidance. “3000 Flowers” kicks off the second half with a positive jolt, Bejar’s double-tracked voice hidden underneath more Bowie piano and a fun guitar hook.

“A Dangerous Woman Up To A Point” is more of the classic rock-inspired music done so well on this record, and one of the more amusing songs lyrically, not even subtly hiding the references. “Have I told you lately that I love you? / Did I fail to mention there’s a sword hanging above you? / Those who love Zeppelin will soon betray Floyd / I cast off those couplets in honour of the void”

“Priest’s Knees” continues in the same vein, adding some deep horns to the mix, and more da da da’s, just in case you didn’t get the point the first seven times around. Luckily, they work so well it never feels overdone, and you can’t accuse Bejar of being short of ideas.

The closer, “Sick Priest Who Learns To Last Forever”, has been maligned by some critics. It stretches the album out beyond 50 minutes at six minutes in length, and its bluesy, drunken feel has been lambasted for being at odds with the rest of the album. But don’t get sucked in by the negativity; it’s a brilliant ending. To me this track has always felt like Bejar deciding their set of songs for the night (the preceding nine, in this case) has been pretty fucking good, and let’s go to the bar for a drink. And hey, look! There’s a stage, and instruments. Let’s get up there and fuck around. The meta, barfly aesthetic of this track has always appealed to me, and adds some fun to the mix.

That’s about all I’ve got to say on the album. I haven’t said it especially well, but then again, I’ve never been a great music writer. I just love music to death, love the way it makes me feel, and so I vomit words onto a page in attempt to get that across to other people. Basically all I’m trying to say is Destroyer is an amazing band, Rubies is an amazing album, and if you have decent taste in music, give it a few listens and tell me what you thought.

Why can’t you see
That life in art
And life in mimicry
It’s the same thing?!
 
Man, the title track of Rubies is just the sexiest thing in the world. Like, it's a great song to lie back and listen to, but once you peel back the layers, you realize the reason that it sounds so damn smooth is because so much love was put into its arrangement. Everything is exactly where it needs to be in order to keep the song from losing steam.

Your Blues, European Oils and 3000 Flowers are perfect pop songs.

I love Destroyer. Thank you for posting about them some more, no joke.
 
I want to contribute something to this thread again soon. Almost wrote a few pages about In Ghost Colours the other night.
 
Great post cobbler. It makes me want to listen to Rubies again which is exactly what it should do.

What I love about Destroyer, and especially his longer songs, is the fact that it sounds as if Bejar just picks up a guitar and starts playing randomly and then records it. A song like Rubies sounds effortless.
 
It's long overdue, so here goes; my long-winded and highly sentimental Big Star post!

First thing's first: these guys created music that makes you happy to be alive. It rocks, it shakes, it shimmers, it jangles, and ultimately it melts your heart. I have dedicated hundreds of hours over the past three years to digesting their music, and it has been the soundtrack to falling in love, major life changes, depression, and the day-to-day grind. Their music captures a wide range of feelings, from the lovestruck (Thirteen) to the angry (You Get What You Deserve) and on to the apocalyptic (Holocaust). Though they have a reputation as an underground band, the sort that hipsters love to namecheck, the truth is that they're nothing if not a populist band. Their music is very much for everyone, and for all moods. They made three albums, each one distinct, effective and influential on its own merits:

#1 Record (1972): the lovely one; listen to this when life is going good
Radio City (1974): the versatile one; throw this on any day, whether you're pissed off or in the throes of passion for life
3rd (1978): the fucked up one; listen to this when you're on the verge of a nervous breakdown

The arc their albums trace is an emotional and financial one. In the early days, singer Alex Chilton, guitarist Chris Bell, bassist Andy Hummel and drummer Jody Stephens had a lot going for them, including some of the best producers in Memphis and a great deal of industry hype. However, Chilton and Bell were not terribly stable and their stock dropped in large part due to their unwillingness to tour. They were also mediocre live, as they rarely rehearsed.

Instead, they spent weeks and months obsessing over their songs and production, and the initial result was #1 Record, an embarrassment of riches in songwriting and a treat for audiophiles. No less than three of its songs I would consider among the best ever written (Ballad of El Goodo, In The Street, Thirteen) and it boasted some truly brilliant ballads that were anthemic enough to beat Journey at their own game while tapping into songwriting skill of the Beatles. Cheap Trick's cover of In The Street was the theme song for That 70s Show, but Big Star's slightly more understated version (which still rocks) captures zeal for life just as well, while upping the delicious vocal harmonies:

Big Star In the Street - YouTube

It's here that you really tap into what makes the band great: the guitars crunch just right, the harmonies are out of this world but just sloppy enough to feel right, and the lyrics, while nothing extraordinary, communicate the song's message directly and personally.

Steal your car, and bring it down
Pick me up, we'll drive around
Wish we had
A joint so bad
Pass the street light
Out past midnight
Hanging out, down the street
The same old thing we did last week
Not a thing to do
But talk to you


What could be better? The scary thing is that Thirteen is even stronger, sketching out an image of youth and innocence so vivid that you instantly forget how great it is to have your own car and money.

Big Star - Thirteen 1972 - YouTube

There's a lot of power in simplicity, and Big Star always worked that sublimely.

But I wouldn't love this band as much had they stopped short at achingly beautiful proto-power pop. The fact is, they hadn't gained their power yet, truly. Throw in a couple of years of industry negligence and in fighting and you get Radio City, #1 Record's sleazier brother. It is, in many ways, the perfect amalgamation of melody and hard-hitting rock n' roll. The drums are a lot looser, the vocals are sloppier, and the visceral result is one of the greatest records ever.

Big Star-Way Out West - YouTube

It doesn't take a keen ear to pick up on the fundamental destruction of Big Star's poppy facade. They really stopped giving a fuck around this point. And yet there's no shortage of great songs either. September Gurls has been covered by countless artists...

Big Star - "September Gurls" - YouTube

Probably because they couldn't write anything better. One of the greatest examples of chiming guitars and lovelorn lyricism can be found here, besting even the Byrds' peaks. Right here is the blueprint for how to right a masterpiece that clocks in at under 3 minutes.

But, back in their day, no one listened. And so the band effectively broke up, leaving Chilton and Stephens to putter around in the studio for a couple of years, leaving an unfinished record that the label put out for whatever reason. It was called 3rd, and it has today become Big Star's ticket to superstardom in the indie underground. People really eat up underdog stories there, and the legends of mental breakdown and internal strife have given 3rd its appealing aura. What's great is that it sounds just as fucked up as it must have been to record it. By the time it was released, Big Star wasn't a band as such, so keeping to their traditional sound wasn't so important. It resulted in songs like this:

Big Star - Kangaroo - YouTube

Droning middle eastern influence, nonsensical drumming that barely kept time, surrealistic lyricism...Chilton sounds like he's dying...it's the sort of track that earns 3rd its reputation. Velvet Underground covers, Christmas songs and tracks that directly spit in the eyes of the music listeners that spurned them ("thank you, friends...wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you...") don't hurt its cause.

And yet, Big Star never forgot the tunes. Ever. The closing four tracks of the Third/Sister Lovers running order (as opposed to the original 3rd release, which had a bizarre sequence that the band didn't approve of) was as gorgeous as anything they ever recorded. I've gone out walking many nights with Nightime playing:

Big Star - Nightime - YouTube

I make a big fuss about lyrics, but when the delivery is right, and with music that majestic and beautiful playing behind it, lines like "and when I set my eyes on you/you look like a kitty/and when you're in the moon/oh, you look so pretty/caught a glimpse in your eyes/and fell through the skies" might as well be Shakespeare. It sounds childish, but what's wrong with that? When I have kids of my own, I'm probably going to feel similarly moved by their sentiments. I look forward to that, because it really feels awesome to have your walls broken down by something so honest, direct and distinctly human.

As close as my analysis may be of their music, it is ultimately expressions of humanity (love, anger, helplessness) that have caused me to fall in love with Big Star, and not their immaculate influences. I love the way they merge beauty with rock n' roll force, but I love those still, quiet moments in songs like Thirteen even more.

I'm getting very emotional writing this because I'm reminded that I'll never get to see this amazing band live. Alex Chilton passed on in 2010, as I was writing an album of music directly influenced by his work. I cried off and on for a couple of days, and while I eventually got over it, that window to experience their music in the present, in a live setting, died with him. Andy Hummel has passed on as well, last year I believe, and Chris Bell died in a car accident decades ago. Those three albums remain an insect preserved in amber, alive and yet not quite. I marvel at their work, and it continues to influence mine, along with the countless others who loved them (REM, Posies, Replacements, hell, Nirvana, the list goes on), so I suppose it lives and breathes. I play their songs on my guitar all too often, and I think about what it must have been like. It was probably shitty for them. But shittiness results in great art, and sometimes it's beautiful above all else. If you've ever been in love, if you've ever felt awkward or uncomfortable, if you've ever felt slighted, if you've ever been sad, if you've ever been happy, Big Star is the band for you. They've added so much to my life (only U2, The Beatles and maybe Beck have made a more profound addition), and the lives of many others. I hope they can do the same for you.
 
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