It was the cover article in Time magazine about U2 back in 1987 that got me curious about War. The writer repeatedly proclaimed it the band’s best album before The Joshua Tree. Being a neophyte U2 listener at the time, I sought the album, thinking I’d get the same transporting experience I got from The Joshua Tree.
No such luck.
I actually enjoyed Boy way more than War, and it was War that pretty much killed any curiosity I had about October or Under a Blood Red Sky. In short, I blame War for shutting me out of a pretty important part of the U2 repertoire.
But I was 15 at the time and not an experienced listener. Two decades should be enough time for opinion to change, right? I mean, Steve Reich’s Different Trains put me to sleep the first time I listened to it in 1989, but today, I hum along with the piece. Perhaps a remastered release of War in 2008 may reveal nuances I missed the first time.
So I listened to War again. And I still think it’s U2’s most overrated album.
I had forgotten about this live album till it was reissued in 2008. It’s something of a punctuation mark in the U2 ouvre, a snapshot of a band at the apex of its youthful vigor. I never got around to listening to Under a Blood Red Sky when I was first exploring the U2 discography 20 years ago, and a remastered release was the perfect opportunity.
It has since revised my perspective about the band.
As previously explained, I didn’t get into U2 till far into its career, and my remembrances of the band aren’t as linear as anyone who’s been a fan since day 1 or day 3. I couldn’t take anyone who seriously who couldn’t take The Joshua Tree seriously. But after listening to Under a Blood Red Sky, I can totally understand, if not agree on some level.
Producer Steve Lillywhite does an admirable job capturing the vitality of the then-young rockers in the studio, but Under a Blood Red Sky finds U2 in its best element — on stage. If staples such as "I Will Follow", "Sunday Bloody Sunday" and "The Electric Co." felt urgent on record, they became blisteringly so in the arena.
Back in August, I ran across the Hawaii 70s-80s Punk Museum curated by Dave Carr. I’ve been listening to a few of the albums posted on the site, and there’s a lot more to explore in the future.
I can’t say I fondly remember those bands because I was too young to be going to clubs at the time. Listening to this music later in life, I almost wish I could have seen these bands live or bought those albums back then. (Maybe I can fish them out the next time I visit Honolulu.)
Of course, all of these albums wear their Mainland influences on their sleeves, and there’s little really local about them. Their sense of Hawaii is primarily geographic. But that would have suited me fine as a young kid. I never liked Hawaiian music much, and I don’t anticipate developing a taste for it any time in the near nor distant future.
At some point, I’m going to have to make a trip to the store and pick up something for the commute to work. I’ve had the same CDs in the pack for quite a while now, and it’s time for something new.
But I’m not inclined to stock up on new listening without first doing a bit of housekeeping on the current listening. So these albums will have to go into the slush pile.
In my summary of 2008, I mentioned how I managed to find a number of gay musicians I actually liked. Most of the stuff that gets the attention of the gay press focus more on outness than the music itself. I mentioned a few albums without really getting into details, which I shall rectify now.
I’ve complained a few times already that the eMusic "use ’em or lose ’em" policy forces users to think quantitatively about their download quota, rather than qualitatively. Some months, I just don’t want to get anything, and they’re usually interspersed with other months where I know an anticipated new release is going to appear on the service soon.
A few days ago, I logged into my account information to see when the next expiration date of my quota would be, when I saw an option for "Account Hold". It’s what I wanted from eMusic — a chance to put my account on hold without having to cancel it outright. But it comes with a few strings.
First, you can only put your account on hold twice a year, but you can put it on hold for up to 90 days (three months) each time. If I had the will power, I could put my account on hold for six months, then go hog wild afterward. I can end the hold anytime by logging in, but it’s unclear whether the act itself deactivates the hold or if I have to disable it from the options. If I were evil, I would make it the former. (And I am evil.)
eMusic developers must read my blog, or they know enough about user behavior to craft this feature in that way. I want to be able to spread this deactivation throughout the year at any time. But it would really fly in the face of a subscription model. In that case, I should move over to Lala completely.
So I doubt I’ll be using it, since there’s a few centuries worth of repertoire — and still much music from the 20th Century — to explore. I can imagine at some point, my eMusic will be my exclusive conduit to classical music. As such, I used up December’s quota two weeks ago. January is waiting.
The second and third quarters of 2008 seemed to give up the proverbial ghost, but then the release schedule ramped up, and I managed to stumble across a few discoveries. As a result, I’ve got a lot playing right now, and I’m impressed with a lot of it. Not all of it, but a lot of it.
Before I get around to writing a more detailed review about my Lala.com user experience, I just wanted to jot down the purchases I made from the site. Lala is unique in the way it allows listeners to put a down payment on a song or album, allowing them to listen online. If you want to download, you pony up the balance. The site even offers a test drive — the first listen is free.
I like this idea. It’s better than tossing random things in a queue, just to burn through a quota, as I did last night on eMusic. Thank goodness Neutral Milk Hotel’s In the Aeroplane Over the Sea turned out to be a lucky grab.
For my inaugural Lala investment, I paid $15, which is equivalent to my current eMusic subscription level. So far, I’ve bought only "web albums", to which I can listen online. I may need a few more spins before I commit to a purchase. With the way I’ve been watching my pennies recently, it may take a while.
Here’s what I’ve bought, organized by familiarity:
"Looks don’t concern me, maestro," says the character Katerina Cavalieri in the film Amadeus. "Only talent interests a woman of taste."
Perhaps. But looks certainly put the proverbial foot in the door.
I never heard of Michael Hersch till I was browsing the Naxos website one day, and when I saw his photo, I thought, "Oh! Nerdy hot!" Huang Ruo was referred to me through a circuitous series of events when I explored this topic of classical music hotties previously. And Ned Rorem? The guy turned 85, and he’s still described as "boy-ish".
Yes, I’d listen to music of someone I think is hot, but I have different expectations from Hersch than I would, say, Nick Lachey. And ultimately, taste would trump looks and talent any day.
This album will probably be filed in the classical section, and it should not be.
Nico Muhly has written works for orchestras and chamber ensembles, and while his previous album, Speaks Volume, could be considered a classical album indie rock fans could love, Mothertongue is pretty much a full-blown indie rock album.
Of course, my definition of classical music is pretty narrow. Most classical recordings are recorded live, in a hall or in a studio. The recording process is not part of the composition or performance of a piece.
Mothertongue is a creation of the studio. Perhaps it can be performed live, but the multi-layered vocals, close-miked instruments and compressed synthetic effects are woven too deeply into the fabric of the music.
Sure, but Bang on the Can and Kronos Quartet do something similar. How is Mothertongue an indie album? In context of my current Winamp playlist, it shares more in common with Samamidon and Spangle call Lilli line than with Huang Ruo and Morton Feldman.