a post about writing (eventually)
I've always most respected bands and artists who work hard to perfect a specific sound. I've previously talked about my love for Abe Vigoda, a band who so embodied a certain style that there was nowhere left for them to go but straight through it. A band that's been on my mind a lot recently is Beach House, whose pursuit of that perfect sound is much subtler than Abe Vigoda's ever was. Over their four albums, they've only slowly varied their approach to dreamy, lilting pop music. Much of it is deceptively simple; it consists of a handful of immaculately arranged timbres that combine to form layers and layers of sound. Each of their albums offers small improvements on their sound, but each also eliminates extraneous material until only the most essential aspects are left. It's a strange process for a band to go through - rather than stretching out with each release, they're growing more and more insular, even as their pop songs are more powerful than ever. Their sound is coalescing into as simple a configuration as possible, and it only makes their music stronger.
I've been thinking a lot about creative universes recently, when a work of art seems to contain entire communities and ecosystems within it. I've been feeling depressed the past few weeks, spending a lot of my time at home smoking weed and eating junk food and (nominally) searching for similar universes (actually I was just watching The Simpsons and Arrested Development and listening to music). But really, I did begin to see these universes everywhere, the little rules and techniques that creators institute to make their work of art look like itself. As I do every year now, I spent the end of 2012 combing top album lists for the year, looking for new writing as much as I was looking for new music. I remembered a music writer I found interesting a few years ago, Matthew Ingram (aka woebot), an expert on esoteric popular and art music. He compiled a top-100-favourite-albums-ever list a few years ago, and the writing on it just astounds me. Sure, he makes a lot of references to obscure acts and subcultures, but he just packs so many ideas into so few words. His entries are almost always shorter than fifty words apiece, and yet they give a fantastic impression of what a record sounds like. I became enamored of this style, and tried to emulate it myself: just look at the difference between my entry for my favourite album of 2011 compared with the one for 2012. The former is a meandering, biographical mess, spending two paragraphs trying to justify the album's position on the list. I like to think the latter does a better job of this, setting the album in its own context instead of mine, in a shorter space, with more evocative language.
All this is a roundabout way of saying that I'd like to write more this year. I don't think I've yet found a specific style for myself, but I'd like to by 2014 (harsh goals). My new year's resolution last year was to listen to more podcasts, and lord knows that was a success. It's time to actually take a step in the direction I want to go, and that means actually putting work into my writing. I haven't yet given myself a schedule to stick to, but I do have some ideas in the pipeline. We'll see how long I last. Anyway, here's "New Year," one of the highlights of Beach House's resplendent new album.
I've been thinking a lot about creative universes recently, when a work of art seems to contain entire communities and ecosystems within it. I've been feeling depressed the past few weeks, spending a lot of my time at home smoking weed and eating junk food and (nominally) searching for similar universes (actually I was just watching The Simpsons and Arrested Development and listening to music). But really, I did begin to see these universes everywhere, the little rules and techniques that creators institute to make their work of art look like itself. As I do every year now, I spent the end of 2012 combing top album lists for the year, looking for new writing as much as I was looking for new music. I remembered a music writer I found interesting a few years ago, Matthew Ingram (aka woebot), an expert on esoteric popular and art music. He compiled a top-100-favourite-albums-ever list a few years ago, and the writing on it just astounds me. Sure, he makes a lot of references to obscure acts and subcultures, but he just packs so many ideas into so few words. His entries are almost always shorter than fifty words apiece, and yet they give a fantastic impression of what a record sounds like. I became enamored of this style, and tried to emulate it myself: just look at the difference between my entry for my favourite album of 2011 compared with the one for 2012. The former is a meandering, biographical mess, spending two paragraphs trying to justify the album's position on the list. I like to think the latter does a better job of this, setting the album in its own context instead of mine, in a shorter space, with more evocative language.
All this is a roundabout way of saying that I'd like to write more this year. I don't think I've yet found a specific style for myself, but I'd like to by 2014 (harsh goals). My new year's resolution last year was to listen to more podcasts, and lord knows that was a success. It's time to actually take a step in the direction I want to go, and that means actually putting work into my writing. I haven't yet given myself a schedule to stick to, but I do have some ideas in the pipeline. We'll see how long I last. Anyway, here's "New Year," one of the highlights of Beach House's resplendent new album.
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