I consider myself lucky that I’ve never been in the state or mood that I wanted to listen to this sort of thing for any length of time. It may be on the list of 1001 Albums to listen to before I die but I would have preferred it be after I'd lost my hearing.
Liz Phair | Exile in Guyville (1993)
I can appreciate the stark sound and angry lyrics. They express a lot of hurt but a steely power of defiance, but not really my thing to listen to.
The Temptations | All Directions (1972)
I understand why this album is on the list of 1001 Albums to listen to before you die. But I’m not sure it lends itself well to just sitting and listening to it with headphones.
Peter Gabriel / So (1986)
Recommendation… Every once in a while, we should all be reminded how talented Peter Gabriel is. While “Sledgehammer” was the biggest hit off So, I don’t recall being that impressed with THAT song. I do remember getting sick of the over-played claymation video. “Big Time,” another hit, seems designed to show off the funky rhythm line rather than the intelligent lyrics. (I wonder if anyone has covered that song in a different style…) Anyway, my 2020 opinion of this 1986 album is Peter Gabriel’s best stuff here is not what became big hits. “Mercy Street” is beautiful musically and meaningful lyrically. “We Do What We’re Told” is haunting. Check out some of the other lesser known tracks as well.
I do have to admit that one of the popular songs from this album deserves to be called a classic. John Cusack holding the boom box above his head with “In Your Eyes” playing and winning back Ionye Skye’s heart… well, it won my heart too.
Super Furry Animals / Rings Around the World (2001)
| I felt like I was always on the verge of liking this album. For example, there was a really nice melody on "Shoot Doris Day" and the guy seemed to be channeling Elvis Costello. Then I looked at the lyrics. Okay, we can't all be Shakespeare but his "bing[ing] on Crack and Tiramisu" may have had some negative side-effects. |
LTJ Bukem / Logical Progression (1996)
If you are opening a restaurant which will have really cool ambient lighting, perhaps serve sushi, and be filled with beautiful, trendy people from early 2000s, then this should be on your background music playlist. Otherwise… [shrug]
(part of my continuing mission to listen to all 1001 albums “you must listen to before you die”)
Underworld / Second Toughest in the Infants (1996)
| I'm afraid I've never been one to go to an underground club at 4AM flying on Ecstasy so this is totally wasted on me. |
The New Tango (2005) | Astor Piazzolla & Gary Burton
The best part of my little project to listen to to all the albums listed in the book “1001 Albums to Hear Before You Die” before I die has been to “discover” artists with whom I was not previously familiar. (Most are incredibly well-known, just not to me.) Anyway, if you are like me and had not listened to the tango and jazz performances of Astor Piazzolla, do yourself a favor. Do it!
Yeah Yeah Yeahs | Fever To Tell (2003)
Yeah Yeah Yeahs — No No Nos.
There are a few highlights here, particularly “Maps” and “Y Control”, as a whole, this one is not worth keeping downloaded.
Musician Nick Cave's Poignant Thoughts on Grief
My latest listen for my 1001 Albums Project was Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds' album The Boatman's Call. I liked it very much. The lyrics are poignant and his voice is engaging in a mournful, poetic way. But more meaningful -- at least to me -- was it reminded me to go back and read a quote by Nick Cave that I saw a few weeks back.
Nick's 15 year old son died from an accident recently. A fan wrote to him asking if he felt his son communicating with him now in some way as this fan believed several of her departed loved ones were appearing to her in dreams. His response was beautiful.
“Dear Cynthia,
This is a very beautiful question and I am grateful that you have asked it. It seems to me, that if we love, we grieve. That’s the deal. That’s the pact. Grief and love are forever intertwined. Grief is the terrible reminder of the depths of our love and, like love, grief is non-negotiable. There is a vastness to grief that overwhelms our minuscule selves. We are tiny, trembling clusters of atoms subsumed within grief’s awesome presence. It occupies the core of our being and extends through our fingers to the limits of the universe. Within that whirling gyre all manner of madnesses exist; ghosts and spirits and dream visitations, and everything else that we, in our anguish, will into existence. These are precious gifts that are as valid and as real as we need them to be. They are the spirit guides that lead us out of the darkness.
I feel the presence of my son, all around, but he may not be there. I hear him talk to me, parent me, guide me, though he may not be there. He visits Susie in her sleep regularly, speaks to her, comforts her, but he may not be there. Dread grief trails bright phantoms in its wake. These spirits are ideas, essentially. They are our stunned imaginations reawakening after the calamity. Like ideas, these spirits speak of possibility. Follow your ideas, because on the other side of the idea is change and growth and redemption. Create your spirits. Call to them. Will them alive. Speak to them. It is their impossible and ghostly hands that draw us back to the world from which we were jettisoned; better now and unimaginably changed.
With love, Nick.”
My mom, who passed away a couple of years ago, is often a character in my dreams. Not speaking to me, but reminding me of her influence in making me who I am today. And reminding me of who I am is something that always needs reinforcing. Thank you, Mom.