2021 Album Preview Series: Variety is the Spice

 Overview of September listening, including:

The Who – The Who Sell Out (1967) The Knife – Shaking the Habitual (2013) Chad VanGaalen – The World’s Most Stressed Out Gardener (2021) Mdou Moctar – Afrique Victime (2021) Our Oceans – Our Oceans (2015) The Sons of Kemet – Black to the Future (2021)

Relevant Links: Previous post on Mdou Moctar

Spring Roundup Part 4: Good Car

People's taste in music is often shaped by the distinctive ways in which it is consumed and used.  Take my father, for instance. For most of my adult life, my father has had an explicit preference for instrumental music that he listens to in the car.  As I have stated elsewhere, the automobile as a listening site has its advantages and limitations. One such limitation arises due to the significant amount of background noise that we take for granted while driving, making it more difficult to appreciate music’s quieter aspects.

The problematically labelled “new age” music that my father likes capitalizes on dynamic contrasts, and he would often get annoyed at having to turn his volume up and down to follow the details of softer passages. When he found an album that stayed within a dynamic range that he would not have to adjust, it would receive a label designating it as “GOOD CAR.”

Although I used to tease my dad relentlessly about choosing music based on the narrowness of its dynamic range, there is merit to the designation. Only in recent years have I realized how much I limited myself by making the car my primary listening site. Even now, the majority of my music begins in the car and gets distributed into different settings as the need arises.  Still, there are some kinds of music whose darkness, angularity, dissonance, or general intended volume are best suited for the private setting of my car. These albums are my version of Good Car.


John Williams - The Last Jedi OST: while this may not be John Williams most memorable Star Wars score, just might be his most masterful. The way that he interweaves themes from throughout the franchise is incredible in this soundtrack, and is best appreciated at max volume.

LITE - Cubic: A few years ago, I would have cited LITE as one of my favorite bands. They have steadily moved away from the aggressive intensity of their earlier work, however, towards a more jazzy fusion approach that lacks the same emotional impact.

Mouse on the Keys - The Flowers of Romance: When I first discovered Mouse on the Keys, they were strictly a piano duo with a drummer. They have significantly expanded their sonic palette since then, but in the process may have lost some of the essence of what made them interesting.

Alcest - Kodama: it's hard to resist an album that cites Deafheaven, Tool, and Princess Mononoke as equal influences. Kodama balances light and dark, beauty and ugliness, hope and despair in ways that convincingly reflect these somewhat diverse inspirations.

The Who - Who Are You?: I'm a big fan of The Who, and I've slowly been putting their albums in my collection for the past 30 years. Despite a couple of really compelling high points, this is the first one I really thought was a big jumbled up mess on the whole.

Andrew W.K. - You Are Not Alone: I got this on the suggestion of several friends, and quickly found that there was more to Andrew W.K. than a comically optimistic attitude and theatrical riff-rock. Once I let go of my cynicism and embraced the idea the he might be genuine, I came to really appreciate his mission statement.

Wei Zhongle - The Operators: A songwriter and an eccentric clarinet player walk into a Chinese opera and start covering the Talking Heads. This isn’t beginning of a joke - its Wei Zhongle

Piniol - Bran Coucou: Piniol is, apparently, a mashup of two separate mathty French noise bands, Piol and Ni. In this incarnation, with two bass players and two drummers, they blast through Bran Coucou with the precision of Battles and the Zorn-esque zaniness of Mr. Bungle.

John Powell - Solo: A Star Wars Story OST: To me, the most important aspect of continuity in the Star Wars universe is John Williams' scores, and there has been no small amount of anxiety to find someone to pass the baton to before he retires. John Powell’s approach is noticeably more polyrhythmic and driving than Williams, but his melodic sense is completely compatible with the franchise’s already established musical canon.

Kite Base - Latent Whispers: This album came too late to make the Dinner Music post, but its Bjork-meets-Nine Inch Nails-meets-The XX would probably fit in that category as well. It is just a bit dark in tone (not content), but it abounds with memorable tunes and smart arrangements.

Burning the Rulebook: The Who's "Live at Leeds"

In 1986 or so, the very first CD I ever bought was It's Hard by The Who. For quite awhile, it was the only album by The Who I owned, which astounded the more devoted fans I met. In retrospect, it is probably not the strongest entry in The Who's overall canon, but the incredible Eminence Front buoyed the rest of the album and kept it regular rotation on my high school playlist.  In truth, the song is little more than a groovy jam with some lyrics and a minimal bridge.  Considering the incredible songwriting talents that Townshend had developed by this point in his career, close scrutiny makes it seem a little vapid.  As is often the case, however, The Who as a group sell it through impassioned performances and incredible musicianship.

A decade or so later, I was playing in a band called Fletcher. My bandmates were fans of The Who and had a much deeper understanding of their back catalog than I. Under their influence, I backed into the albums that defined The Who in their prime. The drummer suggested that I check out Live at Leeds,  but back then, with the exception of Zappa's releases, I considered live rock albums as ancillary entries to a band’s studio output.  The Who’s approach to staying relevant at the 60s drew to a close, however, revolved around their live persona. The Beatles may have defined themselves by burrowing deeper into the studio, but The Who is remembered as being a top live rock act – perhaps the best there ever was.



Because it’s such a compelling document of them in 1970, Live at Leeds an essential recording for understanding what The Who was really about. Classic tunes like Substitute and I’m a Boy are injected with a kinetic energy that is nothing short of transcendental, which renders the studio versions of these songs comparatively sterile and limp. The version of My Generation featured on Live at Leeds effectively ends after about two minutes, after which Townshend navigates the band through a thunderous fifteen minute exploration of material from throughout their catalog. Although this performance seems very spontaneous, under Townshend’s intuitive leadership the band remains tight and focused, avoiding the loose noodling that epitomizes most jams.



Every member of the band is at the top of their game on Live at Leeds, but I think paying respect to Keith Moon’s drumming is in order.  He’s another example of a musician whose style could not be learned in an academic setting, but must have been cultivated in experience.  Its amazing that with such an impulsive approach, he doesn't rush more than he does.  Of course, my immature prejudice against 60s music embarrassingly constrained my view of the band's important history to the short period with Kenney Jones as drummer, so Moon really blew my mind when I started to understand his idiosyncratic technique.  In he end, Live at Leeds ended up being more than an exception to my weird rulebook - it demolished several chapters and provided a whole new perspective on what is now one of my favorite bands.