A Dairy Revelation: Dr. Spin's Best Albums 2018 pt. 2

My initial decision to avoid feeding my daughters milk wasn’t entirely a choice. Although my involvement in the CrossFit lifestyle when she was born opened my eyes to the benefits of a non-dairy, non-grain diet, my first daughter seemed to have a genuine intolerance. Once I was able to find alternative sources for calcium and natural fats in her diet, I did not make serious efforts to acclimatize her system to drink cow’s milk. I met a lot of resistance along the way, but by all accounts she and her sister (whose colic caused us to take a similar path), have grown up quite healthy and strong.

Shortly after EJ was born, life changed dramatically in more ways than I can easily summarize. You can go back and read about it starting here for the full story.  Not the least of these changes was the unexpected birth of our son just a year and a half later. Unlike his sisters, he did not show any significant intolerance for milk. My hardline stance on the paleo diet had softened since P was born six years before and inarguably, milk is a convenient source of nutrition. So he drank milk. Quite a bit of it, for a while.

Undoubtedly, he quickly grew big and strong, which could be attributed to his genes as much as his diet. I was a pretty big infant, as well. Also like me, and unlike his sisters, he seemed to suffer from eczema and allergies. I assumed that he was the unfortunate recipient of my more undesirable genes and began rolling future management options through my mind.

Recently, however, my wife began an anti-inflammatory diet that had a pretty significant crossover into paleo.  As we discussed her plan, I realized that all of our son’s maladies could be attributed to inflammation from the cow’s milk in his diet. We tapered off the milk and within two weeks, no more runny nose or dry, irritated cheeks. Incredible.

So I wonder, with the normalization of cow’s milk in an infant’s diet, how many other people may see their children suffering from similar problems and start medications to manage them. Possibly more than is necessary. In any case, this unintentional experiment brought back home the importance of a clean diet, something that I will dedicate myself to with renewed diligence in the coming year.



Finally, all exposition aside, below is the top 10 albums list from 2018. Any one of these albums were considered at one point in time or another for the top slot, but I feel satisfied with the final ordering (at least for today).  Relatively few proper 2018 releases this year, and many obscure entries.  If you are looking for some new music in 2019, however, these albums would be a great place to start.

10. George Clanton - Slide: During the years I lived in Austin I discovered the joys of synthwave and shoegaze. Slide hit the nostalgia buttons on two fronts this year by comfortably residing in the crossroads between these styles.

9. Death Grips - Year of the Snitch: I have followed Death Grips ever since The Money Store took 2012 by storm, but very few of their albums have come back off the shelf since their initial run. Year of the Snitch has come in and out of rotation several times as 2018 drew to a close and never failed to hold my attention.

8. Wei Zhongle - The Operators: Suggesting Wei Zhongle was one of the times in which my Facebook algorithm really nailed it. Their super-quirky brand of art rock is engaging both in the short and the long term.

7. Kite Base - Latent Whispers: Great songwriting anchors this incredible and unique album from two female bass players with a knack for clever programming. Fans of late 80s electronica who prefer a wash of gothy fuzz would find a lot to enjoy on Latent Whispers.

6. Andrew W.K. - You’re Not Alone: Andrew W.K. bursts through the speakers yelling “OH, YEAH” like some sort of feral white-clad rock Jesus on this album. While the Kool-Aid he is peddling seems like its pure sugar, it’s far more substantial than it might seem.

5. Midlake - The Tales of Van Occupanther: I still like to refer to Midlake as the “Agrarian Radiohead.” Tim Smith’s liquid vocal approach often recalls that of Thom Yorke, but their tales of giants and villages paint pictures of days long past.

4. Venetian Snares - Traditional Synthesizer Music: This impossibly complex experiment pushes the possibilities of classic synthesizers past any perceived limits. Aaron Funk is able to somehow integrate enough variants to give these compositions a live, improvised feel.

3. Low - Double Negative: Although this album came in very late in the Fall, I reflected very carefully upon whether or not to designate it Album of the Year. Its predecessor Ones and Sixes became a favorite in 2015, and Double Negative is an incredible quantum leap forward in terms of creativity and musicality.

2. Modular - Dan Phelps, Vickor Krauss, and Matt Chamberlain: The mythology surrounding Modular became my “Blair Witch” for 2018, a curious investigation that I documented earlier this year. Despite my embarrassing disappointment when I discovered the truth, the album is ultimately propelled by unbelievable and subtle musicianship that continues to reveal itself listen after listen.

 Album of the Year 2018

1. Soup - Remedies: If Modular was my “Blair Witch” for 2018, then Remedies was “Lord of the Rings.” It crosses progressive songwriting and melodic post rock in relatively well-trod ways, but in all the ways that work.  Walls of sound, compelling melodies, and gentle psychedelia overlapped to make this one a sustained favorite throughout the year.

The Whole30 and the White Sea

When I began getting involved in CrossFit a few years ago, I made a dedicated attempt to align my eating with the paleo diet. Over the course of the following years, however, I slowly began to add things back into my diet, including regular “cheat” items. By last fall, I was eating a paleo diet that was being constantly undermined by a barrage of "sugar bombs." Despite keeping a relatively regular workout schedule of 2-4 days a week, my performance was declining. I knew that I was dealing with a sugar addiction, but I was doing nothing to aggressively address the problem. In fact, between Thanksgiving and Christmas, I felt like had pretty much lost control.

To get back on track, I decided to do Whole30 challenge in conjunction with my close friends at CrossFit Denton during the month of January. The specific guidelines of the challenge are noted on the program’s website, but in essence, the Whole30 is a very strict paleo diet – no cheats, no shortcuts – for a 30 day period. On the morning of January 1, I drank black coffee by choice for the very first time ever and did not look back.

The core of my diet was not too far off from the Whole30 guidelines, but the challenge became to find and eliminate refined sugar. In some cases this was obvious (no more protein bars), but I started to see it hiding in some weird places. It turns out, for example, that sugar-free bacon is scarce. Fortunately an alternative arose, because bacon is a big common denominator in our house.  To remove it entirely from the family diet could have derailed the entire program.

Otherwise, I had already built up a pretty decent repertoire of paleo recipes that are Whole30 compliant. Finding time to prepare enough food to feed the family on a daily basis, however, was another challenge. I spent a lot of time in the kitchen, but I came to enjoy taking responsibility for my family’s nutritional well-being. I often doubled up recipes to ensure that I had leftovers, and I tried out new ones with unfamiliar ingredients. I concluded that I really like parsnips and butternut squash, and although beets are pretty good, I am not convinced that they are worth the mess.

The changes in my energy level made all this time invested in the kitchen entirely worth the effort. Whole30 participants often report nearly uncontrollable cravings and mood swings in the first week. Perhaps because I have had previous experience with those kinds of withdrawals when I first began CrossFit, I did not experience them as acutely as some. The cravings subsided within a week, to be replaced by a noticeable boost in my workout performance, particularly in terms of stamina and endurance.

The biggest problem was January. My wife, my mother, and I all celebrate birthdays this month. Declining constant offers of birthday cake and navigating birthday celebrations became a real obstacle.

On the 30th day of the program, arguably the exit date, I was listening to In Cold Blood by White Sea, the solo project from M83’s Morgan Kibby as I again contemplated “to cake or not to cake” at my family birthday celebration. This particular album has been in rotation all month. Unsurprisingly, The White Sea is electro-pop with an unapologetic deference for the late 80s. What is surprising, however, is Kibby’s broad vocal range. The breathy tone that she uses with M83 is merely a facet of a much broader capacity that she displays on the album.  Overall, In Cold Blood is good, but it lacks the musical experimentalism that makes M83 so distinctive.  There is, however, no lack of visual impact in their videos.



I chose not to cake, by the way, which at the time made me a little sad. I was thankful the next day, however, when I worked out the next morning at 5 am with a clear head, free of any sugar hangover that such an indulgence might have caused. As per the guidelines of the program, I did not take any measurements, weigh myself, or take before/after pictures. I instead let my general sense of fitness serve as my primary gauge of progress. By this measurement, the program was a huge success.

John Zorn's "Naked City" and a Disappointing 14.5

Although Mike Patton was far more visible as the lead singer of Faith No More, Mr. Bungle's jagged and sinister self-titled debut became the defining favorite for me in the early 90s. The album was produced by John Zorn, a fact that put this incredibly prolific composer on my radar when Naked City was released.  Back then, test driving an album before purchase, especially one by someone as avant-garde as Zorn, was pretty much impossible. Even while working at a record store, we really could only listen to promotional materials.  I had no idea what I was getting into when I bought Naked City.  It turned out to be an all-out assault.



Naked City eschewed all of the clownish imagery of Mr. Bungle and distilled its noisiest aspects into one to three minute blasts of aggression. To call it jagged and disorienting is an understatement. It was a hard listen, but it was also uniquely electrifying. It became a private favorite that I shared with only a few brave souls, but it opened up the doors to a broad variety of noise rock and avant-garde jazz.

There are not many venues for me to really dig in and digest this sort of music these days.  Naked City would drive my wife nuts and might irreversibly scar the Little One.  Nevertheless, the album resurfaced for me due to a recent post that popped up in my feed last week. I was looking for the announcement of 14.5, the final workout for this year's CrossFit Open.

The Open workouts were announced every Thursday when I am in aikido class.  I was barely out of my gi before people were texting me about the WOD.  I went home to find the official movement standards, but was distracted by this amazing live clip from the Naked City project.



This video is the first time I have ever seen a live performance of this material, and it shines a new light on what Naked City was all about.  The original recordings are so erratic that they seem like studio constructions, but these performances challenge that perception in a big way.  Yamasuka Eye, who recently showed up on a Battles album a couple of years ago, is particularly amazing in a way that just can't be captured on a recording. There are not many musicians that I can think of that throw themselves more fully into a performance of such complicated and intense music as I see him do here.

***

Not far away from this video was the announcement for workout 14.5.



I admit, I like being stronger and faster than the average joe on the street, but in truth, I am not into this CrossFit thing to be the strongest or the fastest. The system has a competitive component which is motivating, but ultimately I train so that I can maintain a high quality of life and, more functionally, keep my breath in the dojo. This mindset allows me to be pretty forgiving of myself, so I don’t beat myself up too much if I don’t come out on top. Still, its nice to perform well on a hard workout, and although burpees and thrusters don't bother me too much, there is a lot of work happening in 14.5. 

But the next morning I opened the garage and I was not ready. I was congested, short on sleep, noticeably gassed from a workout from the day before, and, worst of all, terribly grumpy. The result: my performance on 14.5 was awful - easily my worst Open workout of the season. I wasn't consciously taking it easy or trying to dial it in, I just couldn't get any traction. When I was done, I was jittery, and post-recovery, I still physically felt like I had pushed myself. 14.5 was just hard, and I was not in a place in which I could pull out my best. Despite being disappointed with my performance,though, I still felt more fit for doing 14.5, which is ultimately the point.

When all the submissions were reviewed this week, the top time for the workout was just over 7 minutes.  That's just ridiculous. To get a time like that, you have to come at this workout with an intensity that borders on pure insanity - not unlike Eye had on Naked City.

14.4, the Eroding Open, and Gabriel's "Car"

For those unfamiliar with CrossFit and its attendant culture, the Open is an event of little consequence, but for some it's a pretty big deal.  According to CrossFit philosophy, any person with relatively rudimentary equipment can achieve elite levels of athleticism in their own garage. The Open is an extension of this concept.  Any athlete that registers and can adequately perform the assigned workouts has the opportunity to be ranked amongst the community at large and, potentially, to participate in the CrossFit Games.  Despite the proliferation of CrossFit athletes that has caused the Open to grow to international proportions,  the programmers have done a respectable job of preserving its inclusive mission statement.  Last week's announcement of the 14.4 workout, however, suggests that the original spirit of the Open is subtly eroding, possibly due to corporate sponsorship and multimedia spectacle.

The 14.4 workout looks like this:



While most of the movements in this workout are pretty standard, the inclusion of the rower in an Open workout is bothersome. For the independent athlete or small box, its high price tag arguably renders it as non-essential. It’s nice to have one, of course, but that kind of capital is best spent on equipment that can serve the entire community. Including it the Open sends a message: if an athlete is serious, he or she must have access to a rower. Fortunately, Rouge Fitness, who has a close business relationship with the CrossFit Games, is more than happy to provide these to any athlete who needs one – for nearly $1000 apiece.

Its even more troublesome because there is a viable solution in the CrossFit Level 1 training manual.  On page 55 it states "...at low loads this (Sumo Deadlift High Pull) is our favorite substitute for Concept II Rowing."   Why not use this foundational movement?  Hmmm.....

Despite pervasive pressure from the CrossFit community to register for the Open, I have never signed up.  I currently have enough space and equipment to do about 90% of CrossFit’s standard movements, but there are a few that I simply cannot do because of our low ceiling. I don’t see the point of paying the $20 fee if I know for sure I am going to run up against wall balls and muscle ups. For the past three years, though, I have done as many Open workouts as possible when they are announced, and done close approximations when necessary.  To approximate this workout while still retaining as much of the stimulus from the 14.4 movements as possible, we did:

AMRAP 14
60 Kettlebell Sumo Deadlift High Pulls (25#)
50 Toes-to-Bar
40 Dumbbell Thrusters (30#)
30 Cleans (135#)
20 Burpees
10 Pull-ups

When the garage door went up this morning, everyone gave it their all and became a little more fit for their efforts. In the end, that is what it is all about.

***

Forty five minutes after the garage door closed on the 14.4 "tribute" WOD, I was on my way to school with the Little One in the back seat, a delicious cup of coffee blissfully slipping into my bloodstream, and Peter Gabriel’s first solo album humming on the stereo. I’ve had a renewed interest in Gabriel’s early work due to a localized buzz surrounding the Security Project, a touring repertory group of top-notch musicians that are dedicated to performing this period of Gabriel's work. Their performance of Moribund the Burgermeister is particularly compelling.



Predictably, the Security Project has no plans to come as far south as Austin, which is a real disappointment.  I have reconnected with Peter Gabriel's early work on a deeper level just from the few live clips that I have seen online, especially this first album.  Although I think that Peter Gabriel is one of the few artists whose vision warranted a solo career, I have always felt that his debut album suffered a bit from being overly diverse. Dipping at times into tinpan alley, orchestral grandeur, reinterpreted blues, and even barbershop quartet gives it the overall sense of being too erratic to be coherent. Given Gabriel’s increasingly bizarre stage presence with Genesis before his departure, the album's eccentricities were probably not too surprising to his fans. Despite the stylistic extremes it navigates, however, Gabriel's emerging abilities as a concise, poignant songwriter were definitely on the rise (starting at about :24).



In fact, as I have revisited "Car" (as it is called by Gabriel enthusiasts) this time around, the album seems to be full of excellent songwriting. Each track, taken on its own merit, stands on its own, but the jagged stylistic approach of the album makes it difficult to process as a whole. Even in light of Gabriel's history of experimentation, "Car" is a bold statement as a debut album that simultaneously acknowledges and cuts ties with Genesis.  As a self-examination of his own potential as a solo artist, it was a crucial move by Gabriel that paid off in the long run. The foundation of Gabriel's distinctive style, which would undergird the success of his subsequent solo career, is apparent in the album's most quintessential moments..



Gabriel would go on to do much more than what is found on his debut, but the songs on Car are still compelling and often quite moving.

Soundtrack to the Snowpacalypse: Wild Belle's "Isles"

This whole “snowpacalypse” thing has gotten a bit out of hand here in Austin. The first time, it was fun. I went on a foot trek to get some coffee on streets that were noticeably free of ice, snow, or danger. The second time, it was embarrassing. It seemed as if someone had merely looked at the thermometer and decided it was just too cold to go to school. It might have been understandable if there was a reasonable expectation of rain, but the chances were at around 15% - hardly enough to justify a delay.

This was starting to get frustrating. These repeated closings were starting to threaten our summer break. I have no desire to celebrate the 4th of July in the band hall. More immediately, UIL Concert and Sightreading Contest is happening at the beginning of March, and no amount of added days is going to make up for the rehearsal time that I am losing due to shutdowns and mock STARR testing. The culture of fear that we live in is going to have a direct effect on my student’s success, a fact that I find almost intolerable.

Make no mistake, however - it is nice to have unexpected family time. I have really enjoyed spending some time with the Little One and the wife. We’ve all been in close quarters, which means that my listening habits have veered towards the accessible. Fortunately, I received the absolutely stellar Isles from Wild Belle in a pretty robust stack of birthday CDs, and this album has emerged as the "Soundtrack to the Snowpacalypse."



Wild Belle obviously defers to reggae and other afro-Caribbean music. The sunny, beachside association that I often associate with reggae styles, however, is absent on Isles. Instead, the throaty, sultry voice of lead singer Natalie Bergman and the distorted bari sax of her brother Elliot perfectly complimented the lone cup of coffee I had in the house that I was using to beat back the bright, cold day outside.

There are a whole range of interesting issues that can be addressed anytime there is a cultural schism between a music’s point of origin and its current form. No, they are not from Jamaica. Yes, they are white. No, they have probably never lived in a shanty, but they can refer to them out of respect for the style. None of this is really weird in today’s musical landscape. There are no record bins anymore, so it doesn’t matter if you call them “reggae” or “alternative.” They cross over, and in the process, write excellent, catchy tunes with a distinctive, consistent vibe that permeates the entire album.



I was listening to Isles last night as I was driving home from the dojo on a completely clear road when I heard that the school districts were closing today for the third time in two weeks. I refused to believe they would do such a thing until I started fielding calls from my CrossFit crew, asking if 5 am session was still on. I dismissed their fears, and told them that if they slipped on the sidewalk on the way to their car, not to come. I did not expect anything to actually happen, and sure enough, nothing happened. It was cold, of course, but there was not even any water on the ground outside, much less ice. We knocked out that WOD and I went back to sleep, to be met by unsettling dreams of embarrassing scores at UIL.

2013 Honorable Mentions: All is Quiet.....

I am sitting in my garage at 5 am on New Year’s Day, up early for a CrossFit class that didn’t make. I did not figure that it would. Judging by the energy level of the neighborhood, everybody was up late, but I did not cancel the WOD just in case anyone decided to make an early start on their resolutions. I know that I could go right back to sleep, but I kind of like these moments.  I can sit quietly and do nothing more than listen to the owl living in the tree across the street coo softly in the early morning. Quite predictably, this came into my head.



That was SO LONG ago, and the reality of how much U2 has changed, from outspoken political idealists to promoters of Apple products, makes me more sad then nostalgic. I think this feeling generated less by Bono, or the early 80s release date of WAR, or remembering the faces of very young people who loved the song but whose names I have forgotten. Instead, it comes from the realization that the same amount of time has passed for me. Certainly, I am no longer the embarrassingly naïve middle schooler that I was when this song was gaining momentum, and that’s mostly a good thing. It was, however, a long time ago.

Someone once said that change is a misnomer. We don’t ever really change - we grow.  I take this to mean that the seed of who we will become resides in our present selves and a nugget of who we are today can be found in the person we once were. Like it or not, I am still that kid, and although somewhere inside I am still making dumb, inappropriate decisions, these intentions are thankfully tempered by my increasing number of years on this planet.

So, if you really want to make a resolution for yourself this year, trying to make a change in who you are might not yield the results you want. Instead, grow – and grow in directions that provide better perspective about the things in your life that you would like to alter. It will not be comfortable, but the most important changes happen at the margins of what we are comfortable with.

A few honorable mentions for 2013 before 2014 starts in earnest.  This is a particularly strong list this year - each of these albums are really incredible in their own right and there is no discernible reason each one of them shouldn't find their way in to your listening in the upcoming year.


My Bloody Valentine – m b v: I’m not sure what happened here - I had every intention of including this gem on the top 20, but when I looked back, I noticed it was overlooked. I guess the fact that I forgot about it says something, but no one is more disappointed than myself that the album was excluded.


 
Sound of Contact – Dimensionaut: The only thing that kept Sound of Contact out of the top 20 was that it was too stylistically similar to the new Spock’s Beard. Dimensionaut held the #19 spot for quite awhile until Brief Noctournes and Dreamless Sleep found its way into rotation at year’s end.

Nine Inch Nails - Hesitation Marks: Reznor has finally come to a place in which his angst doesn’t come off as petulance. Although this album is his most believable in a while, at times it feels a little forced, which knocked it out of the top 20.


Flying Colors: Like the output of a lot of supergroups, Flying Colors is circumscribed by extreme highs and, in this case, a few noticeable sags. Its outstanding moments buoyed it to the top albums of the year, but its filler, however minimal, kept it out of the top 20.

James Blake – Overgrown: Blake went into a bit more traditional songwriting territory on his sophomore album, and although it captures the same evocative mood, it just didn’t have the same staying power with me as his debut. Plus, I really don’t see what everyone’s fascination is with the RZA – I think his contribution to the album brings it down.

Plant seeds and grow this year. Best of fortune and take care.

Zorch and the Surreal Bagpiper

I wasn’t sure what to expect from the downtown nightlife in Tuscon, but it was much more vibrant than I expected. There were crowds of people moving around each other, drawn endlessly in and out of bars and clubs while bands blared cover tunes off the rooftops. I was interested in nothing more than a glass of iced tea, so I quickly grew tired of weaving in and out of the mob. I finally meandered into an upscale coffeehouse called Sparkroot, ordered some mint tea sweetened with agave, and settled down with my laptop to blog.

From this vantage point, the diversity of the quirky throng became apparent. Gender-bending cross-dressers and stroller-pushing moms sidled up by each other at vendor stands sharing their anticipation of an upcoming comic-con while mustached hipsters and their girlfriends sipped clear and (I assume) potent drinks from tiny glasses. It all seemed quite normal. No one even seemed particularly surprised when bagpipe and drum ensemble marched up to the street corner and began blaring out Amazing Grace.

It’s not that people weren’t appreciative – they whooped and hollered and took pictures like they would at any good street performance. They just didn’t seem that surprised. I, on the other hand, was stunned and somewhat upset that my phone was back at the hotel recharging. It was too surreal to believe – and it just got weirder when one of the bagpipers noticed the sticker on my laptop.

The sticker has a few bars of piano music and says, in big black letters, “IF YOU CAN READ THIS, THANK A MUSIC TEACHER.” When I am out in public, it is not uncommon for me to catch people reading it and share a knowing insider’s glance. This piper caught sight of it, however, and disarmingly strode up to me. Flustered, I awkwardly complimented his group’s performance, but his blank, serious expression did not waver. I was determined not to be intimidated by a man in a kilt, but then I noticed his pupils subtly swirling and changing shape…

I was horrified and slightly dizzy. Without breaking his gaze, he reached behind his beard into his jacket, seemingly farther than normal physics would allow, and pulled out a CD. He placed it carefully on the keyboard of my laptop, turned on his heels, and strode off to catch up with his ensemble.  I looked down at the CD and my blood ran cold. It was ZZorchh, the debut release from local Austin band Zorch.

I have followed this psychedelic noise pop band since I stumbled upon their ear-splitting performance at the Deerhoof after-show. They made such an impression on me back then on that frigid night that I downloaded their demo EP and rather enjoyed it, but like most short-form collections, I had a hard time getting it to compare favorably to other things I was listening to in the long term. I had been considering buying this full-length since I heard of its release for quite awhile – and there it was.

In my recent review of the F*ck Buttons, I bemoaned what I saw as the general lack of technical ability in music that features sonic innovation. Back in the day, artists like Rick Wakeman married technique with technology using Moog synthesizers and the like. Zorch addresses this issue. They manipulate technology in a way that opens up an incredibly broad musical palette, especially for a duo, but their music feels risky in a way that places the controls in human hands.



The resulting chaos is breathtaking. I find it hard not to make comparisons to Frank Zappa, especially due to the frenetic drumming. Certainly, Zorch accesses a tounge in cheek surrealism that was characteristic of a late-70s Zappa band, minus the overt social satire.  The band's use of keyboards and computer assistance is decidedly contemporary, however, rather like Animal Collective collaborating with Terry Bozzio.  A frightening, overstimulating combination, to be sure, but compelling nonetheless.

As far as the means by which I acquired the album, I calmly finished my tea and  made my way back to the hotel as if nothing happened.  There is definitely a point at which reality and surreality mixed that evening, but even now, looking back on it, the details are unclear.  You can figure it out for yourself if you really feel the need.

S U R V I V E: Staring Down an Invasion in Tuscon

My friend The Best Man and I have been promising each other that we would eventually crack the underground Austin synth scene. He recently discovered a band called S U R V I V E but alas, their album was only available in sold- out limited edition vinyl and downloadable MP3. As much as I value the suggestions of friends, this limitation would have probably kept them out of rotation permanently.

Last weekend, however, in a direct attempt to stare down my remaining apprehensions about heavy lifting, I attended a CrossFit Olympic Lifting Instructors Course in Tuscon, Arizona. This was to be a quick solo trip, so any music I planned to bring for the plane ride and layovers would have to be in soft format. It seemed like an opportunity to give S U R V I V E a shot.



This ended up being a smart move. While I still admit that I would like to see the album cover professionally printed and mounted in a jewel case, the content of the album is shady and immersive in a way that can best be delivered through earphones. I played S U R V I V E through my phone when I was walking around Tuscon, which ended up being quite a bit more than I had initially planned. Once I got a feel for the area between my hotel and CrossFit Works, I found that I preferred a 30 minute walk surrounded by distant mountains and an epic alien invasion soundtrack to an 8 minute (and $10) drive with an awkward Russian cabbie.



S U R V I V E takes more than one page from Jean Micheal Jarre’s early playbook, particularly the ethereal and dynamic Equinoxe, Oxygene, and Les Chantes Magetiques trilogy. Jarre was playful and exploratory on these synth masterpieces. In contrast, S U R V I V E conjures a dark, ominous, and almost gothic tone using the gloomy synth sounds of late 80s Depeche Mode. While other electronic projects like the F*ck Buttons might use more contemporary technology to produce a broader variety of sounds, S U R V I V E does a whole lot more musically with much less.



S U R V I V E is one of several local synth bands that orbit around the Austin vintage synth shop Switched On, and they are so underground that they almost don’t exist. There are a few reviews of their sporadic live shows that indicate that their performances are epic. Aside from these, some links that lead to album download, and an intermittently updated Facebook page, there is very little about S U R V I V E online. I can barely figure out if or when they are playing next, but I would be interested in seeing them live.

From what I have seen, however, they seem to have some sort of following in Germany. While that’s not too surprising, considering the history of synth music in what is Kraftwerk’s homeland, I have never had to do a Euros conversion to purchase an album from a local band before.

Not too long ago, I became a bit snobby about listening only to local music, because I was convinced that it held the potential to stand outside of the agenda of the record industry. “Independent music” is, paradoxically, more mainstream now, and has its own political agenda that musicians have to navigate. S U R V I V E is one of those bands that purposefully fly under the radar, doing something not for fortune or fame, but because they have a genuine love for what they do. They are clearly passionate about the untapped potentials of traditional analog synthesizers and their current relevance, and their adoration of these instruments infuses their music with conviction.

Heavy Lifting and Tomahawk's "Oddfellows"

Back when I was first enrolled in CrossFit Central’s “Level One” program as a summer project, my Aiki Brother introduced me to Tomahawk. I have always been in awe of Mike Patton, but his massive discography is a bit overwhelming. Anonymous was the first album of his music that I had gotten into since the late 90s, and its reinterpreted American Indian flavor hangs incongruously over my early CrossFit experience like a veil.

The “Level One” program was scaled back from CrossFit Central’s regular programming, but it was challenging, nevertheless.  Although it served as an introduction to the training method, there were some ubiquitous CrossFit components that were not emphasized. Lifting weights to find max loads was one. When I started up again a year later in a "regular" class, I felt a little uneasy (maybe even irritated) about the emphasis on heavy lifting. I had a history of back problems that had subsided during my year of independent practice, and I was nervous about re-aggravating the condition.

These apprehensions have also subsided in the past couple of years, but I have come to recognize the hazy line between caution and fear. Some athletes explore this frontier with reckless abandon when they lift heavy. For others (like me) it requires some self-examination and reflection to decide whether I am being careful or scared. Although I’m still struggling with this internal boundary, by focusing on form, my max weights have increased little by little and I’ve never tweaked by back while lifting.

This summer, as my deadlift approached 300 pounds, I got into Tomahawk’s new release Oddfellows.



In comparison to its predecessor, Oddfellows is a relatively straight-ahead heavy rock album, especially if you accept that heavy rock music can have irregular, angular time signatures and sinister atmospheres. Although it is not as stylistically diverse as many of Patton’s other projects, it still captures Tomahawk’s capacity for extreme dynamic impact. Because it is less idiosyncratic than a lot of the work that Patton is associated with, Oddfellows generates the impression that Tomahawk might emerge as a focal, perhaps even commercial, project, rather like Faith No More and Mr. Bungle were in the 90s. Considering the broad proliferation of projects that he maintains, it would be interesting to see him associate with one as a more widely visible vehicle.

Moonrise Over the Grid: Slowly Refocusing with FB

If you have followed the blog regularly, it’s probably not news to you that it has lain somewhat fallow this year. This is a source of frustration for me. Since I moved into the new house, my interests and responsibilities have shifted a bit. In addition to continuing my aikido practice and being blessed with the task of raising the Little One, a house requires a bit more maintenance in comparison to a two-bedroom apartment. More time-consuming, however, is the expanding CrossFit group that I have been hosting in my garage. If you hit the “CrossFit” tab at the bottom of this posting, a very vague history of my training (and its concomitant soundtrack) will emerge, including my first workouts and my certification experience. There is, however, very little about this recent life change simply because the experience itself has superseded my writing.

I also feel like I have written myself into a corner. I like to review music by weaving it into the experiences that surround it. Sometimes this works well, but sometimes it is, admittedly, embarrassingly terrible. This has been more complicated recently because the music I am invested in doesn’t always directly connect with the most important experiences I am having, many of which revolve around my lengthening path as a CrossFit coach, music teacher, parent, aikido practitioner, and general 21st century eccentric. Some linkages present themselves in retrospect more clearly, but even so, they sometimes illuminate a tenuous relationship between the music I am listening to and my shifting internal commentary.

So this post, my 200th, serves as a warning and an apology to my readership.  At the risk of becoming too broad for a singular audience, I will be indulging in a more non-sequitur writing style. I may not always directly link a particular album to a specific experience. These divergent narratives, however, often converge on the whole of my world. I still want to be able to capture this dialogue and look back on it with the clarity of the written word.  Giving myself permission to write in this fashion will, I hope, free me to do so.

So here goes

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By June of this year, deadmau5 had been relegated to the WOD playlist, and Daft Punk’s new CD left me a bit confused. I was listening more and more to pop songwriting. I thought that perhaps the momentum generated by Ratatat and M83 in recent years had died down, but of course, when I notice that something has been ignored in my playlist, my interest seems to rise. Enter the F*ck Buttons.



Aside from challenging me to render their name in text while retaining some degree of professionalism, the F*ck Buttons are a little difficult for me in other ways, as well. Slow Focus successfully extracts and extrapolates on the electronic aspects of Daft Punk’s Tron: Legacy soundtrack. As is the trend with many contemporary soundtracks, however, the Fu*k Buttons trade clearly defined melodies for an incredibly broad spectrum of sounds and timbres. What melodic material there is on the album is imbedded in grooves and riffs. Make no mistake, its pervasive “Moonrise Over the Grid” atmosphere is compelling and its really growing on me.  A central issue I am grappling with as I do this, however, is to decide if exchanging timbral interest with melodic structure is an even trade.

Deadmau5 Pushes Us Through the Wall

Music has historically played a role in lightening the emotional burden of work, and as my CrossFit WOD crew becomes more established, I am increasingly aware of the inspirational role that music plays in inspiring people through moments of frustration or intimidation. It’s not too uncommon for an athlete to report that music “got them through” a workout. I have certainly seen and felt the difference in energy when the music is “not right.” Because I am an album listener, however, I have had to rethink how I present music during our training sessions. For any album to keep attention as a listening experience, it has to have some variety, which often equates into changes in energy that are simply not appropriate for the intensity of a CrossFit workout.

I found, however, that Deadmau5’s 4X4=12 is a fantastic album to train to both for me and the rest of the WOD crew. A couple of years ago, I gave the album a somewhat ambivalent review because, although I thought it was an excellent dance album, its steady-state dance tempos and hour-plus length made for a somewhat numbing listening experience. Contrary to this previous opinion, within the venue of the garage box it has emerged as a favorite.

So with Deadmau5 on my radar, I decided, for the good of the crew, to expand my collection of his work. I picked up >Album Title Goes Here<, simply because it was the only album that Best Buy had on the racks. I enthusiastically brought it home for the evening WOD, but both the athletes that trained that evening and I were a little surprised. The album exhibited moments of jagged intensity similar to 4X4=12, but it also seemed to readily veer into dreamy, pulsing electro pop. After the workout, we all agreed that the album wasn’t entirely inappropriate for training, but it certainly seemed more varied than its predecessor.



I’ve now had >Album Title Goes Here< in regular rotation for over a month now, and although it may not work quite as well overall as 4X4=12 during a WOD (although it does work), it is a far superior listening experience. The variances in feel and intensity address the issue that I had with 4X4=12, but it preserves the deep atmospheres and details that make its predecessor so interesting in the short-term. In fact, with Daft Punk veering dangerously close to nostalgic appropriation with their most recent release, it may be one of the best electronic albums I put in rotation this year.

January/Feburary Roundup: Yourself in Disguise

I try to impart my band students with a sense of self-sufficiency and responsibility, so I felt pretty hypocritical when I could not find my suit for contest. I cleverly went with the contemporary "all-black" conductor look and flew under the radar, but there were several family functions coming up that required formal dress. I would not be able to them dodge so gracefully, so I was going to need a replacement.

A few years ago, this would have been cause for panic and shame. Although I was always considered “the big kid,” between 2006 and 2008 I was looking at almost 300 pounds.  In truth, I'm not exactly sure about that figure because at its worst I was too ashamed to even get on the scale (278 was the highest recorded). Needless to say, I was engaged in an incredibly unhealthy lifestyle, and, as a result, I was incredibly unhappy.

I made some drastic changes in 2008, and have basically continued on a positive path since then. I am now weighing in at a pretty lean 210. Needless to say, going to get fitted for a suit was awesome. For the first time, I had to get a split suit for the right reason - to show off my physique rather than hide it.

I admit that this post rings of self-indulgent egoism, but is also my intent to motivate and inspire. Whatever seems to be standing in the way of you achieving your goals, examine it closely to make sure it is not yourself in disguise.

Oh, and the elephant in the room: where has the blog been? Well, it’s presently on little scraps of paper stapled together and tucked into folders, just waiting to be transcribed and posted. So yes, I’m behind. This post represents my listening from both January and Feburary, so its a little long.  Good playlist, though.  Two albums are unavailable for streaming through the widget:

Aimee Mann - Charmer: Through her past collaborations with Grays contributor and studio contributor to Spilt Milk, Jon Brion, Aimee Mann could also be tied into the Jellyfish Family Tree. These days, she's got what she does down to a science, so if you like introspective, metaphoric pop songwriting, she’s your gal.

Ulver: Wars of the Roses: Ulver is a somewhat dark, gothic band that seem to have a wide variety of labels assigned to their style. They have enough progressive flavor, however, to keep my attention for the time being.

Otherwise, here are some examples from the albums I have been listening to for the past couple of months.

Jason Falkner - Can You Still Feel? & The Bliss Descending EP: Although neither of these albums recapture the fire of Falkner’s first release, they still harbor an astounding amount of melodic and harmonic detail. These are both masterful works by an amazing and effortless songwriter.

Dirty Projectors - Swing Low Magellan: The Dirty Projectors have a sound that is both polished and fuzzy, measured and deranged. It is also, in its essence, subtly framed by the classic, which gives Swing Low Magellan an ease that is the trademark of experienced musicianship.

Tame Impala - Lonersim: Its pretty amazing that an album that so clearly identifies with a certain era of music contains sounds that would have been nearly impossible to create in that time. In a side-by-side comparison with Lonerism, the most vivid albums from that high psychedelic period would probably sound brittle.

My Bloody Valentine - mbv: It took me nearly three years to “get” Loveless, so I don’t know that I should comment on mbv after just a few weeks. At this point, I don’t quite see what all of the critical hype is about.

The Format - Interventions and Lullabies: In the early 00's, I had shifted my attention in underground power pop, and The Format would have fit into that paradigm quite neatly. It is somewhat unfortunate that it took me nearly a decade to discover and appreciate their work.

P.O.S. - We Don't Even Live Here: Unlike a lot of hip-hop, P.O.S.'s work seems to get better and better with subsequent listens. I have absolutely no regrets about including it on last year's Top 20, although I think that I might have rated it higher given a bit more time.

Roger Joseph Manning Jr. - The Land of Pure Imagination: For quite awhile after Jellyfish's breakup, the band's members released music that did not always resemble that of the band that defined them. Roger Joseph Manning's US "debut" is the most reminiscent of Jellyfish's original mission statement, and at points almost reaches the heights of their best work.

Frank Ocean - Channel Orange: Ocean seems to be struggling to reconcile Prince's opulent fantasy with Stevie Wonder's street-level reality on Channel Orange. Granted, my encounters with r&b and soul music are pretty much limited to these two giants, but for Ocean to even bring them to mind is quite a feat.

Charlie Parker - Yardbird Suite: The Ultimate Collection: Parker is nothing short of mindblowing. In fact, following his soloing, in which he effortlessly creates a vocabulary of stunning complexity out of thin air, can be exhausting after an extended period.

Genesis – Trespass: The band’s first album as a full-fledged progressive rock outfit predates even Phil Collins’ and Steve Hackett’s contributions to the band. It is perhaps not as memorable as the recordings from that classic prog lineup, but it does have a few outstanding moments that predict the future of the group.

Husky – Forever So: I have had this one in rotation for awhile on the suggestion of several readers. I enjoy listening to it, but it's hipstery folk trappings don't seem to grab me for any length of time.

Hans Zimmer and James Newton Howard - Dark Knight Original Soundtrack:  For many reasons, I was very attached to Danny Elfman’s soundtrack to the 1989 Batman movie. Although it is not as melodically obvious, the Dark Knight OST is miles ahead of Elfman’s work in terms of timbral and harmonic complexity.

Dr. Spin's Best Albums of 2012 Part 1: Numbers 11-20

Those of you that are paying attention might be wondering about a couple of loose ends from the past few months, so I’m gonna take this opportunity to pat myself on the back. Back in August, I took, and passed, my Sandan test at aikido summer camp. Earlier this month, I also passed my CrossFit Level-1 certification. Even better, by the end of this week, I’ll have a little space carved out for anyone that might want to work out too, because we are signing on the new house this Friday.

Things seem to be coming together, and they are, but at the moment we are living in chaos. The apartment is in shambles and my wife and I are exhausted, yet we press on.  If there is anyone out there who has thought about buying stock in an energy drink company, do it before this weekend. I feel confident that’s going to be the only thing keeping me going by then.

Like last year, I have forgone a proper “November Roundup” and instead posted the first (lower) half of my “Best of 2012” list. The best-of is not constrained to albums with a 2012 release date, but instead includes any album that came to have meaning to me this year. Albums that are strongly associated with past experiences do not qualify and, consequently, neither does any album from a previous year's list.

I am very pleased with this year’s results.  Even this second half works quite well as a representation of my listening experiences this year.  Not much jazz, unfortunately, but more rap and electronica than usual, a renewed interest in progressive rock, and a smattering of power pop and folk-ish songwriting.

20.  P.O.S. - We Don't Even Live Here: As much as Undun by The Roots deserves a place on the list as an example of what classic, mature, artistically motivated hip-hop can achieve, this recent release  from P.O.S. edged it out on the basis of its DIY adventurousness.  Like its predecessor, We Don't Even Live Here crossover success imbeds a rock attitude within a deeply musical hip-hop setting.

 

19. Kraftwerk - Man-Machine: I consider this album masterful from two perspectives: in terms of both its forward-thinking technological approach and its broad influence. Its appearance on the 2012 list also represents some other encounters with Kraftwerk this year that I have found inspiring, not the least of which was Autobahn.

18. Brendan Benson - What Kind of World?:  The relatively dark, moody approach that Benson adopted for this album took me awhile to warm up to.  Regardless, it is, as expected, a top-notch collection of power pop from one of the most consistent writers in the genre. 

17. North Atlantic Oscillation - Fog Electric: A very, very late entry, but I think that its inclusion is justifiable.  It sits comfortably at the crossroads of Marillion and M83, with a little Beach Boys and Sigur Ros thrown in for spice - more on them very soon. 

16. Bon Iver -  Bon Iver earned "album of the year" on many 2011 year-end lists, and set the bar really high for my 2012 entries.  It is, in my opinion, a beautifully crafted and special album. 

15. The Flaming Lips - At War With the Mystics:  The Flaming Lips have emerged as one of the leading experimenters in popular music.  Although I've had this album in my collection for quite awhile, my obsession with The Soft Bulletin prevented me from appreciating its nearly orchestral scope until this summer.

14. M83 - Before the Dawn Heals Us:  Even though M83 has evolved quite a bit since this release, Before the Dawn Heals Us does not show its age at all.  In fact, it lives in it own universe so effectively that if it were released in 2012, it would be no less relevant.

13. Gang Gang Dance - Eye Contact:  At times hypnotic, at others powerful, Eye Contact never ceases to be an engaging listen.  Moreover, it just sounds good, and its pristine production is a testament to the clarity that is possible in the contemporary studio.

12. Seryn - This is Where We Are:  Once it clicked, This is Where We Are became difficult to remove from the player.  It satisfies those of us that have been waiting for Peter Gabriel to do something new and fresh.

11. Anglagard - Viljans Oga: It was completely worth the decades-long wait (and the added month for shipping) for this follow up to Epilog.  Like its predecessors, it balances passion, intellect, musicianship, and aggression in just the right amounts so as to make it nearly endlessly rewarding.

To jump to the next half, click here.