Archives : all posts by Dan

to listen while you read. (it's The Sapphires - "Who Do You Love?")

Our colleague and friend Carl Wilson has written a book for the 33 1/3 series. It's called "Let's Talk About Love: A Journey to the End of Taste" and it's about Celine Dion's Let's Talk About Love. Well, about. It's about a lot of things, really. And in support of the book, Sean, Jordan and I, over the next three days, will be discussing what the book is "about" and what its themes mean to us and our own taste, as a way of letting you know how much we think this book is valuable, important, and just great fun. The book launch is on Wednesday, and so I'm starting today, because we feel this book is so good it deserves a hearty welcome.

So "Let's Talk About Love" (and when I say that from now on I mean the book, not the album) is about taste, at its core. The subtitle, "A Journey to the End of Taste" is a clue that this is not a regular installment in the 33 1/3 series (in which it is assumed going in that the author loves the album they're writing about). In this case, the author starts out pretty much hating the album, hating the artist, as much as any art can be hated. But the task at hand is to find out why. What reasons are there to hate Celine Dion? Perhaps there are many. Perhaps there are none. If there are none, then where does this hatred come from in the first place? These are fundamental philosophical questions of aesthetics, so to me they're not only important that they're answered (I feel the "task" of life, if you need one, is understanding as much as you can), they're exciting. Because they're mysteries I've thought about but never had an answer to, and I love it when someone comes up with some. And Carl not only comes up with answers, he writes passionately about them (and about the further questions that are raised, always new mysteries), and about how they've helped him to understand his own life, which only left me with the job of trying to understand mine.

In his book, Carl Wilson does what I wish I could do every day: he confronts his own perspective. He challenges his ideals, just to make sure they're fast, because without strong re-inforced opinions, you won't survive in a storm. It's like passing by the little crack in your living room wall on the way to the bathroom, but instead of just walking by and putting it out of your mind, kicking it as hard as you can. If nothing happens and the crack settles a little into place, you're fine, you've got strong walls, but if a chunk of the ceiling comes down, you had a problem there the whole time. In a very personal way, he confronts himself, and today I want to do the same, with something of a "taste biography".

The symptoms of my taste began in aesthetic experience as a kind of hidden treat, in naughty or forbidden material. Rap tapes with the logo were what I would listen to on low low volume in my bedroom, lying with my head next to the speaker. Most often it was House of Pain's Fine Malt Lyrics, until I received Pearl Jam's Ten on my tenth birthday (yes!) and that took over. But at this point (1994 or so) my taste took a strong deviation towards movies, so I can't ignore them (even if I stuck to my taste in music, it just veers into movie soundtracks anyway). Quentin Tarantino was the king of forbidden goods in my house. I kept VHS copies of Pulp Fiction and Reservoir Dogs in my desk drawer in my bedroom, far away from the family TV. And then by high school that impulse (to be shocked, stirred) transformed into desiring simply "talked about" work, since the thread got stale of just violence and sex, those weren't what I was after (well, I suppose exploitation wasn't what I was after, because I was certainly still interested in understanding sex and violence). For instance, I tried like some misguided collector to see all of the movies on the AFI "Top 100 movies of all time" list (still missing twenty or so).

This impulse, though it's become nameless, instinctual, unspoken, is still there. Be it music or movies or anything else, the most glowing endorsement someone can give for me to seek out a piece of art is to say, tensing, "it just made me so...." and then shuddering, or clenching their fists, or dropping their jaw. I am first and foremost drawn to things that have made people react. I believe I'm searching for something powerful, something with an idea in it, something that makes me react, and maybe even act. I think in an unconscious way, I long for a certain kind of hyper-effective propaganda. Something that will turn me into a soldier for a cause worthy of my devotion. I don't know what it would it would look or sound like (perhaps like Ravel's Bolero, or perhaps like Group Inerane if I could understand the lyrics*) but in a way the ultimate piece of art would be one where I didn't need to see or hear another piece after that. Like when someone says after an experience "Well, I can die happy," I suppose I must be looking for that to really come true. So maybe I should save this answer-song until I'm ready to face it, though if an artist came along that could alter my life completely, I'm sure I wouldn't be given prep time. I wonder if this artist has begun their career, maybe they're already dead, maybe they haven't been born, maybe they're reading this now.

*though I think the most stirring song I've heard up to this point in my life is probably "Total Eclipse of the Heart", the good version. so maybe I'm destined to be a soldier of heartbreak.

Bastardgeist - "Flee (to the hills)*"

The title of this post is the name of Bastardgeist's album. Yes, the name of it. In an email I got from him, he describes the album as "leftover insecurities from my childhood, sexuality, and my own inevitable death". I respect his candidness, and as this digital breeze wafts out of my laptop speakers, I like to wonder what part of his insecurities this represents. With the ripped and distant loops of singing children (are they singing?), I imagine some futuristic archaeologist finding only that 1-second clip and them playing it over and over, trying to rebuild the past. But I suppose that's what I'm doing, playing this song over and over, trying to fabricate a story to this gentle 3-minute sample, of a moment, of a day, or a month, however long this feeling lasted. If you're interested, the story involves finding a lost cell phone, a pair of shoes covered in duct tape, and one of those birthday cards that plays a song when you open it. [MySpace]

Hello, Blue Roses - "Hymn" (removed at label request)

The Hello, Blue Roses album may be largely uneventful, but the strange duo of Dan Bejar and Sydney Vermont sit up for this last song. Like when you went to church and you joined in on a rousing last song partly because they saved the best for last, but also because you knew mass was over. And here, as the guitar dabbles toes in the cool clear stream, and their voices weave ribbons 'round the maypole, I think of what must be one of Dan Bejar's secret fantasies; sitting dressed to the nines in Louis XIV garb, sipping brandy, being forced to make conversation, bored as hell. [Site]

The Low Lows - "Modern Romance"

I haven't forgotten what you said about New Year's Eve. About how it's full of beggars, for a dime, for a beer, for some acid, for an idea, for a kiss. And how on New Year's Day no one really talks about that, they just put their heads down and turn towards the wind. I'd be worried about this year, it's the most unsure year I've ever faced, but I still don't know how I scored for all the other years. As soon as I get my report card for 2000-2007 I'll be more ready for 2008. Until then, The Low Lows will shake me around in their cup, they'll keep me humble and working inside this sock-drawer winter apartment until something gives way. Something has to eventually give way.

[Listen to "Sparrows" on MySpace, as a favour to yourself]

Born Ruffians - "Barnacle Goose"

Have Born Ruffians become separated from their souls? Yes! Their souls now live outside their body, in guitar and drum form, and their mental state is now dually displayed by both the verbal cadence and bright shining shouts, combined with the clawing guitar, slashing. They oscillate between synchronous and opposite motives, as in many songs of any kind, but now with their inner struggle so clearly displayed, old standards become new again, something to rediscover, and this has become some kind of Broadway number meets campfire rounds meets Moxy Früvous-style vocal group, but has the clear vision, and calm panic to be way way better than any of those things. I did recently watch The Golden Compass, but I think this song's daemon is indeed a goose (note the lovely interrupting honk). Also, side note, the Born Ruffians album is great. Anticipate it. [Buy other stuff]

RickoLus - "Sir Real"

Half School House Rock, half David Bowie on a day sail. I think this song is playing some kind of "walking game" where you can never have more than one foot on the ground at one time. Kind of a hopping, jokish goose step. But I like it, it's snappy and geeky. And it ends with a delightful kerfuffle of puffling horns. [the album (and two others) is free, and quite nice]

Magnetic Fields - "Old Fools"

This may be a letter from a melancholy thundercloud, it maybe be a beach party bonfire turned cold, it may be a nap. It may ask you for your hand stepping onto the curb, or into a bi-plane, it may wish you well as it goes off to a boring old war. This song may arrive too late, too tired, jacket ripped, to a date long wilted and blown over. It may leave a garbled message to come home to, late-night leftovers and a TV on mute. It may go on telling itself the same things, fooling itself, fine. It may do and be all these things, but it must be important, an end and not a means, because it is enough, I'm well-supped beside this sad beast, the two of us, backs against the bricks, knees to our chests with the last one of one too many. [Pre-order]

Pink Mountaintops - "Single Life"

A car with tambourine wheels pulls jagged out from under the rising blue garage door. In it rides a rich-looking chauffeur and God's Forgotten Son. The rich-looking chauffeur takes his orders from no human in the world, instead he reads The Bible like a road map, bike lanes be damned. Meanwhile God's Forgotten Son sits shotgun and bounces his knees nervously, arms crossed and eyes ringed darkly, feathers from his coat whisking his pale pale face. The rich-looking chauffeur stops for a 2L Coke and a bag of neon green Doritos, and they're off. Barreling through the city like some kind of grimacing laser beam, they rumble out into the country to find a way OUT, you know? The rich-looking chauffeur finally stops, in not-quite-the-middle of a muddy field, gets out, wipes his hands and opens the trunk. He takes out a shovel and an umbrella and tosses them on the ground. As God's Forgotten Son gets to digging, and the chauffeur rides off, it begins to spit rain and the farmer in the distance has stepped onto his back porch. [Out of Print]

Aidan John Moffat - "Good Morning"

From Aidan John Moffat's (ex-Arab Strap) album of erotic poetry I Can Hear Your Heart. Yes, an entire album of erotic poetry-songs. It's kind of nice. There's a strong theme of adultery, but it's more taken for granted, like the way your beer comes with a coaster. But many of them are very evocative, and here I can feel the warm morning sun, the soft fabrics, the many senses of this story. Premium-grade mix cd material, if you're still, like me, pretending to be that age. [Preview Site (Adults Only!)]

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Elsewhere: Zac Pennington of Parenthetical Girls has compiled an hour-long mix of holiday music from his, clearly immense, Christmas music collection. It's called A Rough Guide to Xmas and it's a joy, really. I hadn't heard a single thing from it before (and I thought I was into Christmas music!) and it took me on a ride from laughs to goosebumps to lovely lovely cloud-ish drifts. Christmas or no, it's a great listen.

Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.

It's been in the works for many months, but it's finally here: The Wonderful Video Contest. We at StG know that you, the readers, are not just passive music dabblers. You may not have a giant music collection, or even listen to music very often, but if you're a reader here, music has an effect on you. You have memories, moments, tingles and sparks associated with music, it's a part of your life like any other. And we have decided to throw a contest to celebrate that.

We want you, the Said the Gramophone reader, to make a music video. Make it for any song you've ever loved, the one song that changed everything, or even just a song that inspires you cinematically. Make it a story, make it a poem, make it an experiment, just make make make it. It doesn't have to be slick, it doesn't have to have money in it, it just has to be beautiful, honest, great. The first and golden rule: make a video you love for a song that you love.

This contest is open equally to professional and amateur filmmakers. I know some of you readers are utterly wonderful film artists, and we're asking you (through the paper-towel tube of prizes prizes prizes!) to make us a labour of love. I know you're familiar with those, and I know that at the end of the day, those are why you're here anyway. Think of it as a reason to start a project that will feel fresh in your lungs.

On the other hand, you may have never made a movie before, and that may be intimidating. But if you've ever wanted to, now is the time. Music videos are short, they're as much or as little work as you want, and the whole process of making a movie, especially when it doesn't matter, is great fun. We were inspired to hold this contest because of a couple of unsolicited submissions, which were so beautiful, and fun, and the kind of great that we're talking about, that we had to know what else you readers would have in store for us. The second golden rule: everyone will be judged equally to a standard that has nothing to do with experience at making music videos.

And the winners are in store for some seriously astounding prizes. The Wonderful Video Contest is sponsored by, is in cahoots with: 4AD, Absolutely Kosher, Arts & Crafts, Dead Oceans, Dreamboat, Jagjaguwar, Matador, Merge, Misra, Oddica, Polyvinyl, Rough Trade, Secret City, Secretly Canadian, Sennheiser, Sub Pop, Vice, and Young God Records. There are cds, vinyl, signed stuff, extremely rare, limited-run singles and 7-inches, limited edition posters, a one-of-a-kind art calendar, premium headphones, even a special birthday phonecall! We're not kidding around here, these are BIG prizes. Everything is outlined in detail (including rules and fine print), on the main contest page.

How To Enter:

1. make a music video
2. upload it to a web-based video outlet (like Vimeo, Dailymotion or YouTube)
3. send an email to videos@saidthegramophone.com that points us to it so we can watch it.

These are videos from gramophone friends that inspired us to hold this contest. These are not entries, but they're a further example of what we're talking about.
Ola Podrida "Lost and Found" (by Todd Rohal)
Jerome Minière - "Trains" (by Dan Popa)
Herman Düne - "Suburbs With You" (by Cassandra Long)
Sunset Rubdown - "Us Ones in Between" (by Dan Beirne (if we can do it, you can do it))
Feist - "My Moon My Man (Boys Noize remix)" (by Sofia Szamosi)
Wolf Parade - "Shine a Light" (by Matt Moroz)

and lastly, note that The Wonderful Video Contest closes February 5th, 2008. So spend your holidays listening and dreaming, and then get down to work, because we're already excited to see your results.