(no subject)
Because it's a fine day and hell, who doesn't love music?
To start off then, Pitchfork, one of my favourite music websites (save for drownedinsound which is basically it's less pretentious younger sister) has compiled a list of what it considers to be the best 500 songs of the Noughties so far. It's not all that great, if I'm honest, but I was pleased to see this decade's Princess of Scandi-Pop Annie in it's Top 20. I remember pretty much falling in love with 'Heartbeat' when it first came out, but now I've rediscovered it I'm finding myself loving it on a whole deeper level (well, about as deep as my love for pop music can go). It's one of those records which you feel might be misconstrued when described as being pure pop - because, although it is undeniably pure in it's pop sensibilities, it is pop music of the finest calibre - with just the right amount of intimacy, sweetness and playfulness that I think could warm even the coldest, most 'strictly alternative' of hearts.
Another artist I've been listening to a fair bit lately is late singer songwriter Elliot Smith, who, honestly, given my track record with 'iconic/legendary/influential' artists goes, I really didn't expect to enjoy listening to even anywhere near as much as I do. I first fell in love with 'Waltz #2', a suprisingly accessible track (well, in comparison to the other tracks I'd heard) with a lovely piano riff and a sweet, deceivingly complex melody. Once I'd just about got to grips with the musical qualities of the song, I decided to look up the lyrics - as these are often what Elliott was most applauded for. Unlike most, however, I wouldn't say they were poetic, really - to me, they read more like a collection of confessions and observations woven into a story, each one as disquieting in it's poignancy as another:
First the mic, then a half cigarette
Singing Kathy's clown
That's the man she's married to now
That's the girl that he takes around town
She appears composed
So she is, I suppose
Who can really tell?
She shows no emotion at all
Stares into space like a dead china doll
I'm never gonna know you now but I'm gonna love you anyhow
Now she's done, and they're calling someone
Such a familiar name
I'm so glad that my memory's remote
'Cos I'm doing just fine hour to hour, note to note
Here it is, the revenge to the tune
You're no good, you're no good, you're no good, you're no good
Can't you tell that it's well understood?
I'm never gonna know you now but I'm gonna love you anyhow
I'm here today, expect it to stay on, and on, and on
I'm tired, I'm tired
Looking out on the substitute scene
Still going strong
XO Mom
It's OK, it's alright, nothing's wrong
Tell Mr. Man with impossible plans
To just leave me alone
In the place where I make no mistakes
In the place where I have what it takes
I'm never gonna know you now but I'm gonna love you anyhow
I'm never gonna know you now but I'm gonna love you annyhow
I'm never gonna know you now but I'm gonna love you anyhow
Make of it what you will. I have a few ideas about it in mind myself, but honestly, I don't think I know quite enough about the man to read too deeply or accurately into it. For me, whatever the meaning, it's stirring and obviously very heartfelt, and that's more than enough.
And my last musical musing of this post, which I have in fact been pondering over for quite a while now, is the sudden emergence (or at least spurt in popularity) over the last year or two of these beardy alt.folk-rock/americana bands with an obsession for all things animalistic (and I'm not referring to Shearwater here, believe it or). Grizzly Bear, Frightened Rabbit, Band of Horses - hell, even Fleet Foxes... it makes me think that maybe they should all just call themselves Animal Collective and be done with it. But oh, wait a minute...
*sigh*
Bloody hippies.