sidewalk social scientist don't get no satisfaction from your cigarette

99.





parallel lines
blondie [chrysalis, 1978]

i pity the poor singles act. Blondie topped the pops during nude wave with a string of chart-devouring hits that smashed together classic, classy '60s Spector girl-group pop, bathroom puke punk energy, and smatterings of flava: disco, dub, and whatever Fab 5 Freddy said was fly. if the singles were the pinnacle of the power and the punch of pure pop, the albums were passable yet predictably not perfect with the possible exception of Parallel Lines. you know the ubiquitous, slightly overused numbers already, i'm sure, hypocrite reader. before the Wetjet swiffed and Angelica pickled "one way or another," it was a ferocious, crazed-eyed stalker anthem. "sunday girl" is engrossing, elegant, slightly cheesy sleaze. and what kind of jackass would leave ms. harry "hanging on the telephone?" oh yeah, there's some dance song that may be the sleekest, most bubbly effervescent yet detached sexy cool ice princess ten out of ten perfect pop tracks EVER. but don't forget the ramshackle Buddy Holly hoedown of "i'm gonna love you too," the Eno avant-pop of "fade away and radiate" [yeah, that's Robert Fripp making all the fucked-up guitar noises] and the early Madonna prototype "i know but i don't know." the CBGB's pedigree may have given Blondie cred as members of some sort of musical revolution/upheaval, but Parallel Lines is timeless, sharp, helplessly stellar pop music.

awesome moment: the beginning of "fade away and radiate," where all the instruments clear the floor except cascading smack-drums and unsettling guitar percolations while debbie's voice echos into the dark and lonely night.

i'm a student of the drums...i'm also a teacher of the drums too a-heh a-heh a-heh

100.





endtrod-ucing...
dj shadow [mo' wax, 1996]

wicka-wicka wah wah sssssSSSSSRAK, DJing ain't all finger poppin' joint snappin', jet settin', scene stealin', line sniffin' relentless partyheartying. it ain't depthless bravado and unhinged debauched vacuity and trust fund decadence. no, Endtroducing... is a house of nudie cards, a layer of sonic flapjacks. wild-eyed drums bulldoze porcelain strings and throw bones with scatting horns. Shadow throws a net into the deep sea of the past and dredges up memories of sounds, ghosts of aural architecture. these noises are the forgotten and the passed-over, discarded and disassociated, melting vinyl flying in place. yet Shadow blows off the dust, gives 'em a 'lil spitshine polish, places them in an entirely new context and then - wicka wicka - transcendence. this is a self-contained musical ecosystem where David Axelrod, Grandmaster Flash, and Bjork all graze peacefully on the grass, where concepts of "genre" are discarded and every noise, every note, every vibration becomes integrated into a pulsating ball of sound and rhythm. sure, it's occasionally self-consciously arty and brazenly "cinematic," but inane TV soundbites and cornball dialogue from early morning stoned Westerns lurk beneath the grandiose surface. ultimately, by being so eloquent, so high-minded, so grand, this record proves that sample-based music - or, speaking more broadly, hip-hop in general - doesn't have to derivative, sleazy, carnal, or "it's the money." ssssKKKKRIT

awesome moment: the elongated CLANG [sampled from a swedish dude named pugh rogefeldt] and enormous, thunderous drums at the beginning of "mutual slump" jolts you into attention after the blissed-out, quietly sinister radio ambiance at the end of "stem/long stem/transmission 2."

COP OUT COP OUT COP OUT

i started something i couldn't finish. TYPICAL ME TYPICAL ME TYPICAL ME.

the project is too daunting, the list itself is now over a year old and my musical preferences have shifted; i've discovered new things, abandoned the old, and re-contextualized how i view and appreciate music [sort of, at least]. and ultimately, it's difficult to write honestly, passionately, and creatively about one's 756th or 427th favorite song. AND, i haven't updated since may. so, the "1000 songs" list has been put on indefinite hiatus. i may resume it at some point, probably not.

AND.

i want to write about other topics. film. culture. politics. history. science. so, the emphasis of this blog will slowly shift away from music to the shinier, shimmering pastures of variety and diversity. maybe i'll update more frequently.

BUT.

i have a new "music nerd" list!! my 100 favorite albums! i hope to finish the list by the end of the year.

what separates the pedestrian, the average, and the mundane from the fantastic, the memorable, and the superior? i consider a variety of [esoteric?] factors when evaluating an album: coherency, cohesiveness, cojones. aesthetic qualities of sound, musicianship, lyrics. distinctiveness and singularity. context in artist's career. if applicable, influence, historical relevance, and canonical position. but mostly, overall cerebral and visceral effect. if an album moves me in some way, either on the first listen or the tenth; if it causes me to feel, to think, to move, to dance, to scream the lyrics off-key in my car, to ENGAGE, if it's something that impacts or influences my life in a meaningful way, then it's elevated to a "QUALITY" album in my twisted mind. i realize this is ultimately a intrinsically subjective approach to thinking and writing about music critically, but, you know, dancing about architecture is difficult enough as it is. pure objectivity doesn't exist in evaluation. SO.

criteria:

- one album per band/artist. i know this hackneyed, but, hey, it adds variety.
- no compilations or live albums. sorry singles going steady and live at the harlem square club.

...and we're off!