My Record Store Day Post: An Ode to Vinyl.

As little as seven years ago, I had no idea that they still made vinyl LPs. I was new to digital music back then, and only just starting to favour purchasing a digital album over a compact disc, simply because of the convenience.

A walk down Whyte Avenue led me to Blackbyrd Myoozik; I had been down Whyte many, many times before that day but had never really noticed the little store. Wandering in, my 19-year old self was astounded at the fact that this store didn`t only have CDs; it also carried a wide selection of records. Real “records”. And sitting showcased on a wall-mounted shelf, with its cover art embossed and glossy, was one of my favourite albums, Ryan Adams & the Cardinals’ Cold Roses. I held it in my hands and it was hefty and large and as I held it, I felt more a part of that record than I ever did listening to it on its two CDs. I had no money that day; $75 in the bank, tops. And I spent $40 on that record.

That record started for me, a bit of an obsession with records that continues today. I seek out records; used, new, it doesn’t matter (though I’m not really a fan of reissued LPs). I love the way  they feel, sound and how it makes me feel to hold something so emotionally valuable in both my hands, how wonderful it is to see the needle move across the glossy surface, how it is to flick the switch from 45 to 33 and watch that large disc go around and around while listening to it all the way through, because that’s the point of a record. It is designed for uninterrupted listening, from the album opener, to the album closer. They are designed for you to sit there, or lay there, just be there spending time listening to music, and only listening to music. And that’s a really wonderful thing.

Records allow you to be a part of the music; have a relationship with it. Digital music, as convenient, easy, fast and portable as it is, cannot hold a candle to having 12″ liner notes and a 12″ album cover and 180 grams of vinyl in your record player. It is a tangible way to experience and explore the music you love. Look at it as being in the same room with the person you love, versus talking with them over the phone. I truly believe it’s for this reasons that record-buying has made a comeback. It is a warm hug for music lovers to rediscover this ‘old’ way of connecting with albums and it allows us to forget the new world of Twittering, Facebooking, online dating, portable phones, iPods, et al. It’s simple and effective and lets us use just our hands and our ears.

Since purchasing Cold Roses on vinyl, I have gone on to purchase many records; some of them are used (the photos of the band on my copy of The Monkees’ Pisces, Aquarius, Capricorn & Jones Ltd. are doctored with beards, sideburns and moustaches drawn with blue ink from a previous owner) and some of them are very special new records (like my first pressing of Ryan Adams’ bizarre foray into metal, Orion). Some of them are albums I love so much, I like to have them simply because I want to feel closer to them, because they mean so much to me. My record collection is small ,compared to some, but I love it. I want to grow it exponentially. Someday, I’d love a room full of records – alphabetized. With all the rarest, most special ones framed and hanging on the wall.

Record Store Day allows people like me to connect with other record collector fans and be reminded that we are a group of people who connect over this passion for seeking out not just music, but the full music ‘experience’. It rewards us for our passion with special goodies, discounts and the opportunity to see live musicians in “our” record shop, late night or otherwise. My record store is still Blackbyrd Myoozik, to whom I owe my collection and my continued desire to explore “my” store, ebay, record stores in other cities, antique malls and trade shows for unheralded gems, forgotten relics, or one of those special moments where you find something really, really magical.

Happy Record Store Day, y’all.

Coldplay 2.0.: My second experience with one of the biggest bands on earth

There are four types of records in this world: the bad ones, the mediocre ones, the good ones that grab us from the get-go, and the good ones that challenge us to love them only with patience, repeated listens, or that ‘moment’ when everything is illuminated. For a 16-year old me, Coldplay’s A Rush of Blood to the Head was the latter record; an initial distaste, followed shortly by repeated listenings, followed by a decision that it was one of the best records of the 2000s, top 5 at least, and an album that helped birth who I am today. The rest of Coldplay’s back catalogue is a mixed bag of catchy art-pop that I like a lot, but don’t “love” the same way I love Rush of Blood. It is the band’s opus, and the main reason why I’ve paid a combined total of around $200 to see them twice.

That being said, there are three types of shows in this world: good ones, bad ones, and the best ones. And Coldplay’s live show is about the best live show there is.

Some bands play to a room of around 300 people and that experience can be in itself, an intimate love letter to music, a quieted moment of introspection and listening. Some bands play medium sized auditoriums and either rouse them to a state of ecstatic dancing and singalongs or have them sit comfortably and listen to the room fill with the pure sound of blissful live music. Coldplay plays for a room of almost 15,000 people which they have done multiple, multiple times at festivals, stadiums and coliseums all across the globe and honestly, this is what they do best, should do best, and will continue to do best as long as everyone knows that their show is not to be missed, ever, if at all humanly possible.

I like those small shows where you feel like you’re at some kind of magical dinner party with the artist you love as the distinguished guest at the head table. I like to sit in a room with the type of people who are too cool for arena rock and pretend I’m one of them. Sometimes I convince myself that this is true. Then I see a show like Coldplay’s sold-our North American tour kickoff last night and remember that this is not true.

At the first Coldplay show I ever attended in 2009, the band gave out a freebie live CD, a nice little fan thank-you gift and souvenir of a great show. This time, the band handed out mysterious wristbands that we were told to wear repeatedly as “part of the show”. Very quickly, the magnitude of this “part” made itself known; the house lights went off, and like bedazzled magic, tens of thousands of little blinking graffiti-coloured lights on these wristbands sparkled throughout the black arena, waving around on the flailing arms of tens of thousands of Coldplay fans who were suddenly in for the concert ride of their lives.

This show, as well as the last Coldplay show, glistened with all kinds of dizzying effects; insane laser light shows, video screens, inflatable lanterns, beach balls and most importantly, tissue paper confetti! Scads of confetti, shooting out of cannons, raining down on us fans while we jumped up and down catching it in our hands, our hair, our clothes! It’s moments like these that turn a rock show into a rock ‘experience’; we don’t just sing to the music – suddenly, we forget our distaste for “sellouts”, our displeasure with the top 40, and our first inclination to hate the four guys on stage because they represent this big corporate monster. Suddenly, we let go of these preconceived notions for what constitutes the term “artist”; and we’re just enjoying ourselves.

Enjoyment of a show depends on engagement with the material among other factors including, and especially the band or singer’s engagement with us. Coldplay invites us to partake before we even enter the arena. Those bracelets are a warm invitation into the band’s world. Suddenly we’re not just spectators, but participants. Chris Martin himself is a warm, likeable frontman. His sympathy with our typically “shit nights” on Tuesdays and his acknowledgment that we’re all clapping at the “right” times and his repeated thank yous demonstrate to me, this is not a band that takes their audience for granted when really, they could easily shun us all and let’s be honest: we’d probably still show up for the show anyways. What I love most about Chris Martin live is his kinetic energy: the running, the jumping, his arms in the air. His movements on stage render him less of a frontman and one of us, one of this community of people who is a part of this whole big ‘Coldplay thing’.

While I found the last time I saw Coldplay to be a more alluring, exciting experience, perhaps because it was the first time I had ever seen them in 2009 and I was enamoured with that adorable little tune that the band sang about Edmonton which made the show feel entirely unique from the other thousands of shows they’ve done (and continue to do), it was still an ‘experience’; in fact, it wasn’t too dissimilar in grandeur and even in the setlist but despite that, the band took the stage and I was over the moon, just as I had been that magical time back in June three years ago (see my thoughts on that show here).

Thhere are some superstars whose popularity I question; simply put, Coldplay isn’t one of them.

Today’s Playlist

T. Rex – Planet Queen (Acoustic Version)
This past week was my big foray into Electric Warrior and I couldn’t be more ecstatic to say, it’s one of the best records I’ve ever, ever heard. Glam rock God, Marc Bolan, who is this fantastic mixture of mysterious introvert, male gigolo and vulnerable balladeer, manages to create a record that sounds like Ziggy Stardust’s distant English country cousin. The ballads like Girl and the aforementioned Planet Queen are to-die-for little pieces of down-tempo glam-heaven, whereas the album’s rockers are balls-out sexy and driving and addictive. The acoustic version of Planet Queen strips down a classic ballad to its bare bones, thereby exposing and introducing a new kind of sparing vulnerability to the song, which is precisely why I’d recommend tracking it down to listen to on repeat, as soon as humanly possible.

Spencer Davis Group – Gimme Some Lovin’
Is this song soul? Motown? Classic rock? All three? The latter. Which is what makes it so awesome. It’s this amalgamation of all these genres that have essentially cultivated the pop music landscape today and it does so with a lot of raw power and one of the catchiest choruses ever. This song is a genre-bending, fun, exciting take on psychadelica and classic rock riffs; and really, you can’t go wrong with Steve Winwood.

The Lumineers – Big Parade
The Lumineers were the best band to come my way since… well, the beginning of last week. The record is an instantly likable, heartfelt folk record with heart and warmth to boot; it is full of sweet down-home gems that speak about love and girls and protesting war. The single that took the world by storm this past week is a song called Hey Ho which has the handclaps of a pop song while singing a folk song about love. If songs like this and the gorgeous, epic suite, Big Parade are any indication, The Lumineers are going to be a force to be reckoned with on the world stage very quickly.

Foster the People – Don’t Stop (Colour the Walls)
Foster the People are a band that is bound to face some serious hipster backlash, ever since their ubiquitous Pumped Up Kicks dominated every  radio station and music video channel everywhere in 2011. Don’t Stop is a song now used in a car commercial where it surely grabbed the attention of millions if it didn’t before. You can say a lot of things about Foster the People, but the damndest sure thing is: they make a damn catchy hip-pop song and Don’t Stop proves the band is far more capable of hit-making than being some mainstream crossover one-hit-wonder.

Blitzen Trapper – Gold for Bread
Blitzen Trapper has a very particular yet unexplainable way that they craft their own melodies; for some bands, this leads to all the songs sounding too similar to be interesting but in the case of Blitzen Trapper, the result is something familial, folksy and warm; or alternatively, with the specific example of Gold for Bread, we have a rollicking road song that pulverizes with its head-banging energy. Blitzen Trapper is a band that knows how to work a crowd with their catchy rhythms and scream-y guitar riffs. They often sing of a lifestyle of vagrants and pariahs, but the songs are often irresistibly fun and exciting like this one.

Elliott Smith – Memory Lane
Continuing the Pacific Northwesterness on this list, another Portland-based artist, the late Elliott Smith, is also on this list with one of the few very simple acoustic songs on his posthumous release, “From a Basement On a Hill”. Memory Lane is relevant today as it was when the deeply troubled Smith was writing it; it addresses issues of being bullied for one’s differences (“If it’s your decision to be open about yourself/Be careful or else”) and being subjugated, persecuted and shut down for your beliefs because that’s what ‘they’ want. Smith is generally subtle in his poetry but this song speaks to, and is reminiscent of the punk he embodied in his former band, Heatmeiser. Its anger and sadness and frustration remain today and are not forgotten.

Prodigy – Firestarter
While the video for this song is almost as famous as the song itself, and while the song may sound to that @ShitMyDadSays dad as a bunch of digital noise, there is something magnetic, energetic, kinetic and ‘important’ about this song; it was released as a single in that odd phase of recent music history when DJs were burning up the mainstream charts (and Calvin Harris, Martin Solveig, Chromeo et al are proving, this is happening again). Unlike friendlier material, Prodigy’s songs are dark, metal-esque and speak to a subculture of displaced rave children and I loved it. While they were busy defending the questionable lyrical content of another hit (no pun intended), Smack My Bitch Up, I was busy listening to it on repeat. Firestarter is the kind of song that speaks to violence and rebellion while indirectly directly speaking of violence and rebellion. It’s a modern dance classic.

Coldplay – Amsterdam
I once read that this song is about an incident that actually happened to Coldplay frontman Chris Martin while he was in Amsterdam, hence the song’s incomprehensible title, and I’m still not really sure what happened to Martin in Amsterdam, even after repeated listenings. That being said, to me this is one of Coldplay’s best and most underrated tunes. It is beautiful, sparse, longing and sad; its content can speak to someone suicidal, someone in love, or someone caught in painful emotional turmoil. The passion which with Chris sings the bridge can be felt deeply, even though headphones.

The Beatles – Rocky Raccoon
What always astounds me about the Beatles is this: listening to the early ‘Beatle mania’ mop top teddy boy stuff and then listening a record like “The Beatles”, you have to consistently remind yourself that it’s the same band. They don’t look alike, sound alike, or have anything to do with their former clean-cut mod selves which begs a statement either like “this is your brain on drugs”, or “Here are four of the most creative people who ever made music together, finding their creative stride and becoming a whole greater than the sum of its parts.” Both are true, proved by songs like Rocky Raccoon which is about death, violence, and a story containing all sorts of odd nonsense. I chose it this week because I was listening to the ‘White Album’ over the weekend and I was mesmerized; by this song, by the fact that it’s written by the same people who wrote Can’t Buy Me Love, and by the fact that it’s a Dylan-esque whack job story song that is done by not Dylan at all, but the Beatles. Not to mention, it’s a damn good song with all kinds of little nuances like John Lennon’s elusive harmonica, George Martin on honky tonk piano, and a gentle acoustic backup to a very rambling, faux-American Paul McCartney.

Today’s Playlist

Neil Young With Crazy Horse – Down By the River
If there was ever a track that sounds so infinitely better on vinyl it becomes less of a ‘song’ and more of an ‘experience’, this would be it; the 9-minute + long jam and Side 1 closer on Neil Young and Crazy Horses’ “Everybody Knows This is Nowhere” dawdles along with darkness and dignity and one of the best damn guitar solos ever. I would describe it as one of my favourite songs longer than 4 minutes, and it begs repeated listening to take in all of the determined grit and grimness of the track.  

The Red Hot Chili Peppers – My Friends
With the big announcement today of the Chili Peppers’ Western Canadian dates (yay!) I am throwing in this, my favourite Chilis’ ballad (of the ones sans John Frusciante of course). There’s something so beautiful and deeply saddening about this song both in terms of the story behind it (that of bassist Flea’s painful divorce) and the subject matter of the song; of feeling less alone in a cold world and remembering to love. Interviews with the band often stress that the message of the band is love; of one’s self, and each other. It’s nice that a rock band most famous for their raunchy sock-donning antics and filthy rap innuendos, can remind us to take a moment and remember those “hurt by the cold”.

Fleetwood Mac – Over & Over
While “Tusk” is not one of Fleetwood Mac’s most well-known or well-loved LPs, it features the album opener to end all album openers, Over and Over, Christine McVie’s opus and my favourite contribution of hers on any of the records on which she appears. It’s an emotional song that seems so odd when paired with the New Wave sound of the other tracks on Side A of the double album, like a peaceful island amidst a rocky sea. It’s often been said that “Tusk”, like “The White Album” seems the work of several solo artists and if this is true, then the opener makes perfect sense. Either way, it’s the best track on the record and maybe one of the band’s best tracks ever.

 Bad Company – Ready for Love
Why is Bad Company so great, yet kinda underrated? If you look up ‘Classic Rock’ in the dictionary their picture will be there and yet the world hasn’t fully recognized them as rock legends alongside untouchable Gods like The Rolling Stones or Led Zeppelin. Yet, one listen to the dark, husky, sexy Ready for Love will have you wondering why. It’s a quintessential 1970s makeout/road trip type song with all the workings of an almost country-fried rock n’ roll classic. I dare you not to fall in love.

Ryan Adams – Whether We Make It or Not
Yet another Ryan Adams songs that never appears on an official release, this incredibly messy, uneven track about… death? A breakup? Leaving Los Angeles? was played live only once, and only exists as a live bootleg.  Yet, it’s the unevenness and nonsensical lyrics and the sheer, raw passion in which that one-time-only performance is sung that makes this so worth listening to, it’s scary.

Bob Seger – Night Moves
To me, this song sums up everything about a youth I was unlucky enough to never experience; that feeling of dating and self-discovery and memories and music and cars and summertime and “trying to lose those awkward teenage blues” while falling in love and not knowing (or caring) what you’re doing is a magical thing and it is captured too perfectly in this total classic. It’s, like a lot of classic Seger tunes, a whole bunch of false nostalgia about happier, simpler, more badass times and whether you can relate to it or not, that sense of finding belonging amidst a world of confusion, cars, women and booze is something we can all relate to.

The Monkees – I’m Not Your Stepping Stone
“WHAT A GREAT RIFF!” you might say, if this song was written and performed by someone else. The Monkees get a bad rap. I was just talking to my mom about them yesterday and she said she gave all her Monkees records away to her younger brother once she had “outgrown” them. I once saw this famous clip of Dick Clark introducing the ‘music video’ for Strawberry Fields Forever which was preceded by him asking audience members what they thought of the Beatles following Beatlemania and the vicious John Lennon backlash. One young gentleman said, ever so sacrilegiously, “They’re as bad as The Monkees.” Well… the Monkees are no Magical Mystery Tour, even though they tried their hand at mimicking the sounds of the counterculture a few times. But there’s no denying a pop/rock classic like I’m Not Your Stepping Stone. Underneath the well-produced angry rock sound it’s a silly song about dating a girl who is “trying to make her mark in society” and who doesn’t really care about who she’s dating to get there. But hey – whatever, man. It’s a great song that demands a second look.

American Idol: A Live Blogging Adventure.

I haven’t watched American Idol in about 5 years and have certainly missed out on the new reincarnation of the show featuring Jennifer Lopez and Steven Tyler. I’m virtually unfamiliar with these contestants so as the show goes on I am going to give my impressions of them as someone who is laying eyes on them for the first time.

DeAndre

This kid reminds me a bit of a tough guy version of season 1’s Justin Guarini. The diff being that he has a little more edge to him but the kind of edge that just screams ‘Idol’; he’s the gold standard of male singers on this franchise: smooth, soulful R&B pop. I can picture him making exactly that kind of record; he’d be wearing some sort of zoot suit on the cover and smiling into the camera with his new straight, white teeth.  The kid does have this impressively sky-high falsetto. That being said, he sang some song by De Barge that I’ve never heard before. I guess because my mom never listened to soul/pop from the 1980s, it is a genre that is completely lost on me. I’d better brush up so that I don’t lose my Name that Tune edge.

Elise
Gwen Stefani and her No Doubt sidekicks are the guest mentors on this week’s show and I have to make a comment that Gwen NEVER AGES! How does she do it?! Does she sleep in a cryogenic chamber at night? Or does she wear fake skin? Anyways, back to “Elise Testone”. Dressed up like Stevie Nicks and singing Foreigner’s “I Want To Know What Love Is”, you can tell she’s going for the Fleetwood Mac thing; too bad no one told her this was 80s night and she’s about ten years too early, look-wise… She’s wavering back and forth but she emotes well; not so much in her face, but in her voice. Uh-oh though… some choir just chimed in and the audience is waving their arms around. I guarantee that most of these people watching have never heard this song before; it came out when they were just a twinkle in their dad’s eye. So thanks to them, and the lame-o choir, I was reminded that despite the mature sounds of this blonde rock singer and all her bar band imperfections, this is STILL Idol. All I can say is, I’m glad she did Foreigner and not her original choice: Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah.

Phillip Phillips
The poor kid, with a name like that. He sure is cute, though. He has that ‘legit’ musician feel to him but… now that he’s been on the cash cow of primetime reality television, no one will take him too seriously. Too bad. I’m digging this; it’s kind of like sexy Joe Cocker plays one of my favourite Genesis songs; it’s something I haven’t really seen on this show before. The weird name kid is really delivering this down-home art rock. On an unrelated topic, why on earth are there so many commercial breaks throughout? That’s the only thing that’s filling the second hour. I can’t believe I’m stuck with this for another hour and 40. I’m exhausted. You know when I said before that this kid is cute? He’s more than cute. I melted at his smile a bit.

Joshua
It’s time for SIMPLY RED! And it’s a lot to handle. Even Gwen “B-A-N-A-N-A-S” Stefani said his voice was a bit much. They just had to add the choir again, too. I really hate when they do that. What is this – church? Does it always have to feel religious? I like this kid though. I think he toned down the performance as per Gwen’s advice, and he ended up being pretty great. And I like this song. At least, I like it enough that if it comes on the radio I won’t change the station. How the hell did they ever even know to invent the concept of ‘radio’ anyways? How did they know it would work? Science is amazing.

Jessica
What kind of fucking weirdo proudly announces their alter-ego and talks about it by name in the third person? She’s 16 for heaven’s sakes. This fact makes me not like this girl at all. I mean, she’s perfectly fine and all. But… an alter-ego? Really? Really. Come on now. When she goes into her upper range shits gets really real and she’s got the look. But a superstar, she is not. Actually, none of these people are superstars, really. I wish they were. After all, isn’t that why people watch this show in the first place?

Hollie
Flashdance… ohhh , boy. This song is so totally lame. Not that I don’t love it, but… it’s super lame. As is this performance. I figured I was going to be wowed as balls for this girl after seeing her duet the Pointer Sisters. Instead, she ain’t hitting the highs and her voice shakes like a leaf when she’s heading down. Actually as I’m watching this, I’m focused more on her shoes than the performance. She’s doing a skippy walk across the stage and I’m so worried she’s going to fall. Those are some mega heels. Also… wow. She looks really different with makeup than without. J Lo gave some pretty serious advice to this girl. Woman knows what’s up. Way more than Paula Abdul ever did.

Colton
No one told him trucker hats are over! Awkward….. anyways, this guy is attractive, and he’s alright. He’s a bit Jacob Hoggard c. Canadian Idol season 2. I’m wondering if his version of Time After Time is ripped from one of those compilations where pop/punk bands cover 1980s songs and I feel as though I’m onto something there.

Skylar
Are we done yet? Anyways, here comes Skylar; she’s singing Wind Beneath My Wings – a corny song, made a little different with some country twang. The girl is doing a pretty lovely job with this, actually. I’m decently impressed. Alright, I’m actually really impressed. Who knew there was all this in that corny, corny song? You’d have to be a piece of lead to not be moved by that. I’ll even forgive her for going on about how much she misses her guns.

General comments…
Duets?! Really? The first time there was one, I had no idea what was going on; plust it was Islands in the Stream. Repulsive karaoke rehash time. And then with the Pointer Sisters one, Hollie was bloody brilliant vocally but she makes that DeAndre guy look not-so-good. The only reason for these duets is to fill up more TV time with commercial breaks. I guess they’re trying to make the show a little more fun but I’m kinda… on the fence about the idea.

The judges are pretty good; they’re a lot more ‘in the background’ than Paul and Simon Cowell and their constant bickering making them into the stars of the show. And it’s ironic because these new judges are technically bigger “celebrities”. It goes back to that odd reality TV phenom of reality stars becoming celebrities and celebrities going on reality shows to try and appear like ‘normal people’. Steven Tyler has the worst plastic surgery ever, whereas J Lo’s is AMAZING. Randy is the same as always but I think he’s been name-dropping just a little less than he did before. Maybe he’s finally used to his megastar co-judges and feels less of a need to try and impress them with all the people and all the music shit that he knows; or rather, thinks he knows.

All in all, this is at the end of the day, still Idol to the core. It has the same cheese factor, the same sardonic comments from Seacrest that feel like they’re intentionally unintentionally intentional. There’s still a great deal of adverts all over the place. At least they’re getting celebrity mentors and they are allowed to brandish instruments on stage. Gee, I wonder where they got that idea from? *cough* Canadian Idol *cough*.

I don’t think I’d watch this again. I don’t feel any particular attachment to these people and popular culture history tells me it’s tough to be a star from this show and only 2 or 3 out of… God, how many contestants on how many seasons? have ever even touched fame before. There’s no point in anyone winning. They’ll just end up on The Surreal Life or Celebrity Rehab with Dr. Drew. That’s how they’re going to get their fifteen minutes in the end…

Oh, one more thought: I said Elise was going for the Stevie Nicks thing before the Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around duet came into play. I know my shit, apparently.

Today’s Playlist

The Monkees – As We Go Along
In mind-blowing music moments of this week, I was recently informed that the lovely guitar sections of this song were played by none other than Mr. Neil Young, who played on a few Monkees tracks a little later in the TV band’s career. This song appears on the Head soundtrack. The bizzaro so-bad-it’s-bad cult classic was a huge box office bomb and a dark departure from the bubblegum television show. Akin to this obvious turn towards the counterculture is the soundtrack, which boasts the best, deepest songs the band has ever produced, including this one, a beautiful folk ballad with the aforementioned legendary special guest musician. And to think: you thought the Monkees were lame.

The Shins – For a Fool
Continuing my obsession with the Shins’ latest record, this bouncy, acidic ballad has stolen my heart the way Natalie Portman’s heart was stolen by New Slang. James Mercer’s vocals seem to appear out of a warm hazy sunrise of reflective, self-deprecating emotions and are welcomed alongside the comforting acoustic pop; it’s songs like this that have been a mainstay in the Shins’ repertoire despite the countless lineup changes.

Wilco – Just Friends
While Wilco is a band that sounds like few other bands in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, they have their moments of wearing clear influences (See: Paul McCartney on Capitol City and Harrison/Lennon on Sun Loathe). Here, Jeff Tweedy channels a dark Brian Wilson in a song about having a crush on a friend additionally its biting, ironic cynicism is reminiscent of Don’t Think Twice, it’s Alright. Despite these comparisons, it’s old-school Wilco at a moment when the band was just finding that extra special experimental edge, and worth your time to take a big bite out of this week.

Third Eye Blind – Summer Town
I stand by the fact that I feel 3eB is one of the most underrated pop/rock bands ever. Their hit singles, Jumper, Never Let You Go, and the ubiquitous Semi-Charmed Life do not fully represent the talents, clever literary references, and angry political depths that Stephan Jenkins and his band are capable of. That being said, Ursa Major in its entirety does. The rattle-and-hum and fast-paced spoken word that characterizes the band is used to its utmost advantage on Summer Town, a track that combines a lonely pining chorus with clever spitfire lines like “I wish I was a megaphone/with my speaker blown” and “Fake diamonds shining on her finger/and I’m bad for you as anyone I ever knew”.

Fionn Regan – 100 Acres of Sycamore
Fionn Regan is an underrated charmer and subtle soul; his poetic wavering voice cuts through his lone acoustic arrangements like glass and it’s criminal that so few people have heard his music. 100 Acres of Sycamore is an unapologetically earnest folk offering that sounds sweet on the surface but offers up some seriously gloomy poetry underneath. I was watching a version of this on YouTube the other day and one user commented: “It’s so beautiful, it hurts your heart.” That pretty much sums it up.

First Aid Kit – New Years Eve
Speaking of pure beauty, First Aid Kit’s ever-so-gorgeous Lions Roar came out early this year and is one of the first great records of 2012. Ironically titled, the record is not quite a roar at all but rather a really honest, sympathetic gritty folk record. Its star attraction is also the first single: New Years Eve is a song about facing darkness, staring down your demons, being brave in the face of change and adversity, and ultimately, using those dark feelings to hang on because it’s a part of growing up. It’s the perfect New Years song, really, and it encapsulates that feeling of being on the eve of change. And that’s what’s going to save me.

Brooke Waggoner – Red Robin Hood
For those who don’t know, Waggoner is the shining star keyboardist in Jack White’s Love Interruption video. She is also a really lovely singer/songwriter in her own right and this song is a little charmer that showcases her as a pianist, a romantic and a songwriter; the song uses fairytale references to tell the story of an unlikely pairing of a good girl and a bad boy.

The Beatles – Here Comes the Sun
With springtime approaching and snow melting and longer evenings and earlier sunrises, sometimes it’s nice to ignore the bustling traffic and coffee-clutching businessmen of the downtown core and focus on what gives us all life, hope and happiness: that rising sun that comes up from behind the Western skyscrapers and casts shadows on the sidewalk and reminds us that after a long winter, spring is on the horizon and it feels so good you can almost reach out and touch it. George Harrison has written a gorgeous, perfect, simple little song about these feelings and these days, the time is just right to listen to it.

Adele – Rumour Has It
It seems everyone and their dog is aware now of the sheer prowess of Adele. At just 21 years old, the torch songstress has taken the world by storm with her ‘real woman’ beauty, that soaring voice, a barrage of awards and some massive, major singles to her name. The latest of those is Rumour Has It, a song that is a bit of a switch from Someone Like You or Rolling in the Deep; it’s a powerful Motown throwback that could place her alongside members of the Family Stone yet it is a contemporary up-tempo pop masterpiece. Yet again, Adele has struck gold. There is just no stopping this girl.

“Hotel Chelsea Nights”: When the Memory IS the Music.

Music and memories are innately connected.

Listening to a song can take you back to a moment in time – a moment that is crystallized and epitomized by the song that was stuck in your head, that related lyrically – directly to that time and place. In retrospect, the song makes the foliage seem just a little greener and the smiles just a little brighter, but rose-tinted nostalgia or not, there is definitely a connection with song – the lyrics, the melody, the beat, or simply the era in which that song was popular, connect brilliantly with all those memories that come back with vengeance, whenever you put the needle on the record.

There are special times when the music is the memory; when you listen to a song that’s been in your life as long as your favourite now-faded and torn pair of skinny jeans and you recall, clearly as if it were happening again, the very moment you first heard that song and the world stopped spinning for its duration and everything fell deathly quiet, save for you and that song.

The first time I heard “Hotel Chelsea Nights” by Ryan Adams was one of those moments.

I was in University and it was the dead of winter; it wasn’t brutally cold, but an abundance of snow was falling insistently and it was in the evening and no one had shoveled the sidewalks. I was trudging to an evening class and the world was dark and blanketed in thick white, but the streetlights beamed down and sat warmly atop the fresh snow.

That period of time just after Christmas is an odd time for new students; you go from growing accustomed to living without your family and eating like garbage all the time, to going home for 2-3 weeks and having home-cooked meals and sleeping in your old bed and seeing your parents every day, and seeing your old friends for the first time in months. When you return to your new world, that world that seemed comfortable for you prior to that sickly feeling of missing home, there’s all kinds of feelings of dull sorrow, displacement and nervousness. You’re also approaching the end of your first year of school. You’ve almost made it, but there’s still so much farther to go.

I’m not the type of person who gets desperately “homesick”, but I was feeling this weight in the air with all of my friends, which is alienating in itself. It was around this time that I purchased Ryan Adams’ “Love is Hell” – a funny place to start, in terms of Ryan Adams records, but this was my first full album of his nonetheless. I bought it at HMV at a mall south of the University. My friends and I shook and shivered and huddled desperately whilst waiting for our bus home. It was miserable outside and I was fumbling to get the plastic wrap off the jewel case so I could pop it into my Discman. I put it on and offered one earphone to my friend Erin, while gingerly placing the other in my ear. It kept my eardrum warm it seemed, but only for a minute or two. We listened to the first few songs of the album on the bus; amidst our chit-chat,an abundance of bus strangers, and the noise of the large vehicle pounding, sputtering and struggling its way through the snow-covered roads, the songs sounded odd, warbled, and unmelodic. It was a struggle to enter into them; they were not inviting.

It wasn’t until a week or two later when I had my revelatory moment; displaced, cold, by myself, and walking to of all courses, my Religion course on witchcraft and the Occult. I pressed play and listened to the parts of the album with which I knew already. And then “Hotel Chelsea Nights” came on.

The echoing, haunting Wurlitzer starts off the blues-y song and you can almost hear and feel pacing across creaky floors for its duration. The break in the song features a chorus of ghostly gospel-y wails that only seek to explore the song’s bleak, defeatist atmosphere with severity and purpose. Adams sings, “I feel like getting rid of all my things/Maybe just disappear into the fog” – a line with too many syllables for the melody, making it feel desperate and impromptu. The repetition of the line “Strung out like some Christmas lights/Out there in the Chelsea nights” closes the song in what is a palpable descent into lonely, solitary defeat. A song this well-crafted is the only kind of song that can ever close an album.

The song’s logistics aside however, that feeling of displacement – of the sudden distaste for a place that felt like home, of the feeling of not ‘knowing’ love and wondering if/when you’ll ever get the chance, that sensation of a void that you can feel but somehow cannot disappear into, regardless of how badly you want to, and that uncertainty about the future of yourself, your love life, your life in general, of being mistaken and essentially wanting to ‘quit’ was something that had never quite been expressed to me this way before. I fell in love; with myself, in a way – with that I was able to find something – a musical treasure – this magnificent. I fell in love with music again; not in the superficial pop radio way I did when I was in late high school and in my first term of university; I fell in love with Ryan Adams. It was this day that cemented my unconditional love for his quirkiness and his breathtaking output, which I still feel strongly to this very day. And my life sort of ‘hit me’ then; I knew I was away, where I was, and why I was there. Through the moisture roughening my face, through the snow falling from the black oblivion, through the drifts collecting by my feet, traipsed across by my lone footprints – I felt that what I was hearing, and what I was seeing, and what I was feeling, were all exactly identical.

What astounds me about this particular memory in the first place is this: It’s amazing that a song which highlights your own sadnesses, insecurities and displacement, a song that is desperately depressing, a song so candid and painful it makes your insides want to curdle and die, can make you feel this somehow uplifting, clear-eyed epiphany about your own little tiny life.