Like a Lightning Rod
This is a quote from an interview with Jim Dickinson that was used in the video at his memorial a few months ago.
“Memphis will get all over you If you’re sensitive it’s like you know certain people can walk into Memphis and it’s like a lightning rod…Bam!–hits ‘em. If you think about the history of Memphis music , it’s not people from Memphis it’s people who came to Memphis.”
and this video:
- Jake R.
Tags: Ardent Studios, Big Star, Jim Dickinson, Jump Back Jake, Memphis, Sister Lovers, Third
Has the Internet Changed How We Compose Music?
There is a lot of nostalgia for the way in which consumers interacted with music in the past. My last post about mix-tapes brought up a lot of these feelings not only in me but in other people who read it. Music writers like Greg Kot and Jim Derogatis are constantly lamenting the death of record store culture on their excellent Sound Opinions radio program. They often discuss the fact that there are fewer and fewer places where kids can walk in chat with an older more knowledgeable clerk and leave with records they never would have found on their own and go home and be blown away. This used to fuel the music industry which is now defined by instant access to nearly everything you’d ever want to listen to without ever leaving your house. As a musician, there is no doubt that this is an invaluable resource that has allowed me to discover hundreds more records that I might not have found just hanging out in stores like Other Music—for the record I do still hang out there and buy things based on the recommendations of their knowledgeable staff. But even still, the record companies large and small cannot move as fast as the music bloggers who can link us up with lost records by people like Jesse Ed Davis who played guitar with Gene Clark and Tag Mahal, in a matter of minutes at no cost. This is undeniably amazing and I am grateful for it.
For me, what is lost in this process of discovery is the period between when you read about something and when you actually hear it. When someone writes about a piece of music on a prominent music blog like Pitchfork, there is either an audio player or a link that can deliver the music in question immediately, and for me, as much as I enjoy this, it might prevent me from liking things as much as I could were there space for me to process what I’ve read before approaching the record. When I was a teenager I remember the process going something like this:
1) Someone older and trustworthy tells you about a band in one form or another: This could be a record store clerk, a writer like Lester Bangs or Nick Toches.
2) Through books, magazines and friends you begin collecting information about the band over a period of time to the point that absolutely have to hear what it sounds like.
3) You find the record either at a store or a fiends house and listen to it.
This could all take anywhere from a week to a year, depending on the artist. Between when my Mother’s high school friend’s 30-year-old musician son told me at 17 to listen to Big Star’s Third, and when I actually found a copy of it was a year and a half. At 16, I read an article about the Faces and the next day while searching for them in my local record store, a Warner exec happened to be there and had extra promos of the new compilation they had put out in his car. He gave me one for free.
Either way, something happens between the moment when you hear about something and when you actually hear it and in my case, I would develop a fantasy about what the music sounded like based on what I had read. When I heard the actual music, my fantasy of what it sounded like and the music itself would engage in a dialog that heightened the music listening experience. More importantly, this allowed me to write my own music based not only on the records themselves, but what I believed they might sound like. This dialog between my own vision of the music that inspires me, and the vision of the artist who created it is perhaps the most integral force in my aesthetic decisions as a songwriter and musician.
Just as there is a difference between the music composed by hearing something in your head and writing it down and music composed with a synthesizer with which you can hear the arrangement right away, modern technology has changed the way we interact with music and as a result, the way we create it. I don’t know if we can put this paradigm shift in a dichotomy of “good or bad” but I do think that some imagination has been lost with the absence of a period of gestation between hearing the rumble of the train, and then watching it go by. Even if we are disappointed by the drab freight cars that all look the same, without the announcement of its existence, we never would have imagined the magnificent silver stream-line in our minds. As someone who does discover a fair amount of music old and new via the internet, I don’t know if I can cry for the loss of record store culture. But it does sadden me that we may live in a world where sonic information is so available that the dialog between reality and fantasy is less common.
That said, with things moving as fast as they do in this day and age, its possible that young artists and musicians can develop these visions and concepts equally fast. I mean how long does it take to imagine what Pet Sounds might sound like after looking at the cover? And when you actually hear it, I bet its still surprising—nothing like what you thought. But it is that very notion of “what you thought” that makes it a beautiful record and allows you to engage with it as a composer. I’d like to think that this process of translation will outlive all mediums that we can currently imagine, and continue to inspire great music for as long as people can hum a tune.
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Tags: Arts, Big Star, Gene Clark, Jesse Ed Davis, Leste Bangs, Lester Bangs, Music industry, Musician, Nick Toches, Pitchfork.com, Songwriter, The Faces
Mixtapes and the Death of Romance
I was having a conversation with my younger brother, who was complaining about not sharing certain musical tastes in common with his new girlfriend. I assured him that he wasn’t the first person to have this problem and a tried and true solution was the “Romantic mix.” This way the romantic attachment to the songs overrides the differences in aesthetic taste between the couple, and a common language is developed that carries through the relationship. If you ask me this is a crucial step in developing a strong romantic bond.
After I said all of this, he asked “What is she going to do, listen to it on a discman?” Good question. Now, when I made one of these fairly recently, it was on compact disc, but I remember at the time feeling like this was almost as archaic as a cassette (which I was making all the way up until 2005—well into the age of the ipod). I have also made playlists and snuck them onto a lady friend’s ipod, but this does not seem to carry the same weight as a tangible item that will provide the soundtrack to a budding romance.
Then the kicker: “Even if I give her a playlist, she can just take the songs she likes or knows and put them on a different playlist.” What about all the time you spend putting the order together? What about the sleeper hit—the 3rd track on side B, the open ended finale of side A? Does anybody remember laughter?
I actually feel like the death of romantic mixtapes is a far more upsetting thought than the death of the “album.” Rock and Roll began as a singles industry and maybe even works better that way, but mixes for your crush were never meant to be altered.
I have heard of people making mixes and putting them onto little key-chain usb drives, etc, and I can live with that, but is the cold, technological convenience of it all dissuading young people from putting their hearts into theses critical tokens of affection? Are romantic mixtapes on the way out? Is love dead? I would think that there is still hope, and that somewhere some 19 year-old college freshman is hearing Big Star’s “13″ or Johnny Thunders’ “You Can’t Put Your Arms Around a Memory” for the first time, but maybe its arriving via zip-file in their .edu inbox. All I can say is, those are both great songs, but there is a reason one is on side A and one is on side B. And those songs by Suicide or the Gories in between may sound weird now, but someday they will mean the world to you.
Tags: Big Star, Johnny Thunders, Suicide, the Gories
Top 5 Thanksgiving Songs
Though not a holiday associated with music (that’s the next one, and unfortunately there will be an audio invasion of bells, choirs, and saccharin singing very soon), there are some songs that would be plenty appropriate for a Thanksgiving day playlist. I’ve tried to include mostly Memphis songs, but my top two are from beyond the city limits. Here are my top 5, you can fill in the rest and enjoy them all as you cook, eat, and argue with your family.
5) Reigning Sound: I’m So Thankful
4) Big Star: Thank You friends*
3) Sam and Dave: I Thank You*
2) Neil Young: Pocahontas
1) William DeVaughn: Be Thankful For What You’ve Got
*recorded at Ardent
Tags: Ardent Studios, Big Star, Neil Young, Reigning Sound, Sam and Dave, Thanksgiving Songs, William DeVaughn
Big Star at Brooklyn Masonic Temple
Mr. Chilton, still serenading those September gurls. Pic by Lindsey Budjinski
Had so much fun at the show last night. Saw so many folks I hadn’t seen in a long time and of course got to see the band blaze through some of my favorite songs ever! “Til The End of the Day” and “13″ were big ones for me and the “Slut” encore was such a great and definitive ending. Jody’s songs were all great. Rene, who plays drums in Francis and the Lights was there watching his every move totally in awe of the thunder and precision.
Tags: Big Star, Brooklyn Masonic Temple, Francis and the Lights, Jody Stephens, Kurt Vile
