I find it hard to believe that it's already March. It seems not that long ago that I boarded the train on that bright, clear December morning and made my weary way home to Crieff for the Christmas holidays. Now I find myself once again only a few spare weeks away from both the Spring holidays and the semester two exams. I've dedicated a number of lines of this 'ere Blog to the subject of exams and revision and all that jazz so I'm not going to bore you with that. If you're reading this then you probably also have exams looming, those paper bullies who flex their prodigious muscles from across the playground, and probably don't want to be reminded of them. Well luckily I don't want to write about them. I've got too much stressful nonsense already sliding off the edges of my perilously small plate. I chose the small plate of course because I wanted a minimal amount of washing up... but that was wishful thinking of the most dream-like variety. Now I have a plate which is useless and a floor covered in an inch-thick layer of amalgamated foodstuffs. Fun times it is not.
But I shall talk about something a bit more cheerful if you'll allow me. Recently, because of my shortage of pennies, I haven't been able to buy anywhere even remotely, vaguely close to the number of CDs I used to. Back in the Summer of 2008 I would purchase anything from a couple a month upwards. My iPod (probably the most treasured presence in my life) was never short of new music. Its shuffle function constantly surprised me by offering gems from the mists of the endless obscurity of my library. Now though...
The last CD I bought (a stupendously brilliant piece of technical wizardry whereby recordings of some of Ray Charles' greatest seventies vocal performances were combined with new recordings by the Count Basie Orchestra) was actually for a friend. Before that it was a five CD compilation of the highlights of a number of Wagner's best known operas (five CDs would probably struggle to accommodate even one Wagner opera in its entirety). Apart from that, in the past seven months I have bought a Tom Petty album and a two-disk collection of "The Essential Charlie Parker". A fairly good mix I think.
But what I am trying to get at is that there is definitely less new music being added to my iPod. Sure, my Frostwire file sharing program (I favour Frostwire over Limewire for no good reason) helps a great deal with this, but I have always preferred to actually have a hard copy of my music. I like to read the liner notes. I enjoy knowing who played drums on what Jerry Lee Lewis record. I scan pages and pages purely to discover who produced what songs on a compilation album (which helped me understand at a young age why Rod Stewart's career has been so bi-polar). I was actually quite excited to see that a new design had been implemented for CD cases; it's much better than the old design in my opinion. There's also the fact that I can buy a CD of a band I've never heard of and journey home in mounting anticipation of whether my twelve pounds was well spent. There's none of that with file-sharing. I'm not condemning it or anything. I don't have a solid opinion of the whole messy business. If I ever do you can be sure I will be warming up the ol' fingers for a good Blogging session before you can say "Basshunter gives me aural hemorrhoids" (I will stand by this accusation until research is undertaken! You hear me?).
But what I am trying to get at (and I'm just tripping up constantly on my way) is that I have been forced to live with essentially the same iTunes library for some months now. I have realized quite suddenly how eclectic and unpredictable the collection is. I have everything from Buddy Holly to Andrew W.K., Muddy Waters to Lostprophets, Schubert to Duke Ellington. Admittedly I have little time for the rubbish on mainstream radio...If you want to hear some decent music on the radio you have to either listen very late at night or listen to Radio 2 on a Saturday afternoon and cross your fingers. It's a shame because there are enough new bands with good songs to flood the radio waves with quality. Instead we hear "Sex on Fire" every twenty minutes, punctuated by a new Snow Patrol song (we get it...you're miserable...). If the DJs would only look to the likes of The Hold Steady, Jeff Tweedy, Jakob Dylan and The Wallflowers, Bon Iver, Fleet Foxes and Howlin' Rain to name but a few. If only they could delve that little deeper, scrape off the layer of grimy mediocrity and discover people making good music! People who don't coast by on the fact that they are Bruce Springsteen or The Rolling Stones and whose work is all the better for it. It's infuriating the state of our eminent radio stations... Beyond my distaste for mainstream British radio I have no affection for the bone chilling screams of black-clad metal "singers", threadbare patience for the corporate rhymes of rap artists and a hatred of dance music the intensity of which strikes fear and shock into the heart of God himself. The only reason that reggae does not feature as heavily as it should is that I haven't reached the reggae section of my CD collection. I can't wait though!
But what I am trying to get at is how, on an ordinary hour's walk (see my last entry), I can experience such a vast array of feelings and emotions, thoughts and ideas and even walking speeds. As a little experiment I am going to shuffle through my library for a little while and include a list of the songs that come up, along with a litte description of its possible effects. This is science! For science!
1. Through the Lonely Nights The Rolling Stones - A nice, mid-tempo ballad, surprisingly uplifting for its melancholy title, likely to inspire a general feeling of well-being.
2. Variation XX: Un poco più vivo Sergei Rachmaninov (from Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini)- Short and dramatic, a builder of tension with small flutters of morale raising splendour.
3. I Put a Spell on You Buddy Guy & Carlos Santana - An improvement on the original, a driving rock number instilling in the listener a certain swagger and confidence, and obviously awe at the potent cocktail mixed up by probably the world's two greatest living guitarists - Recommended (with a capital R).
4. Madison Blues George Thorogood & The Destroyers - A shuffling blues rhythm which will force a bounce to enter the walk of anyone without such mercilessly concentrated self-consciousness as me...
5. Will the Circle be Unbroken? (Live) Gregg Allman - Frankly, if this song doesn't make you feel like you've just beat cancer then I shan't waste my precious words on you.
6. Fortunate Son (Live) John Fogerty - For me, a shot of oak-matured malt nostalgia, warm but ass-kicking.
7. Last Nite The Strokes - Just a really good song, Summery... to me at least.
8. Handbags and Gladrags Rod Stewart - A relic from Rod Stewart's golden years. Makes me feel a bit sad really but I can't help but be cheered up by that magnificent bridge!
9. Here Comes a Regular The Replacements - Typical Replacements ballad, filled with regret, tempts out contemplative thoughts... Good for when I'm looking out from Carlton Hill (again, see last entry).
10. Caring is Creepy The Shins - Reminds me of Garden State obviously. Brings back memories of early 2008... which is wholly welcomed.
11. Accused of Love Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers - My second favourite rock 'n' roll band. Normally causes both sides of my head to cave in as it's one of those files which is inexplicably four times louder than the rest. Nonetheless, pleasant little acoustic guitar heavy number. Refreshing.
12. Chips Ahoy The Hold Steady - What a chorus! Another song I love perhaps more for its absorbed memories of Summer 2008 than for its melodic or lyrical merit (which it still has by the bucketload).
13. Loving Cup The Rolling Stones - A fantastic Exile-era Stones love song. Simultaneously self-deprecating and spirited. The bridge encourages all manner of pleasant day-dreaming -"...see your mouth kissing me again, what a beautiful buzz, what a beautiful buzz..." Pretty much sums up the song.
14. Pink Aerosmith - Reminds me of Andrew. 'nuff said Andrew. Wink, wink.
15. Violin Concerto - 3rd Movement Ludwig Van Beethoven - Not really known for his violin concerto (singular). Uplifting. In the scale and magnificence of the heights to which it soars it casts off the rusted and rattling chains of doubt and uncertainty with typical Beethoven-esque gusto.
There we go. I pretty much have every base covered there as far as walking is concerned. There are songs within the now chipped and dirty casing of my iPod which cater for every occasion. I like Ray Charles' jazz instrumentals when I'm cooking. The elegant melodic doodlings of Chopin are my first port of call for University work. The Scrubs soundtrack sends me to sleep at night with its comforting familiarity. Elvis Costello pumps me up for a party; the passionate country records of Gram Parsons ease me into my morning routine and the swinging brass riffs of Benny Goodman are the energetic fanfares following good news and successes.
My iPod may not have changed a great deal in the past seven months and whether or not I have is a matter for those closest to me to decide, yet the humble little device nestled in my pocket as I write is nevertheless a constant companion and a comfort. For through the miracle of its technological makeup it allows me to carry with me not only the music of anyone from Vivaldi to The Verve, but also the memories these artists and these songs have become associated with. Some of them are less happy memories than others I freely admit (see various previous entries!), but they are, at the end of the day, the beginning of the day and in the middle of the night, the rough sketch lines which interact and merge, consolidating somewhere on the blank page to form the ragged composite which is Jamie Lamb.
Whoever that may be.
('',)
Jamie
But I shall talk about something a bit more cheerful if you'll allow me. Recently, because of my shortage of pennies, I haven't been able to buy anywhere even remotely, vaguely close to the number of CDs I used to. Back in the Summer of 2008 I would purchase anything from a couple a month upwards. My iPod (probably the most treasured presence in my life) was never short of new music. Its shuffle function constantly surprised me by offering gems from the mists of the endless obscurity of my library. Now though...
The last CD I bought (a stupendously brilliant piece of technical wizardry whereby recordings of some of Ray Charles' greatest seventies vocal performances were combined with new recordings by the Count Basie Orchestra) was actually for a friend. Before that it was a five CD compilation of the highlights of a number of Wagner's best known operas (five CDs would probably struggle to accommodate even one Wagner opera in its entirety). Apart from that, in the past seven months I have bought a Tom Petty album and a two-disk collection of "The Essential Charlie Parker". A fairly good mix I think.
But what I am trying to get at is that there is definitely less new music being added to my iPod. Sure, my Frostwire file sharing program (I favour Frostwire over Limewire for no good reason) helps a great deal with this, but I have always preferred to actually have a hard copy of my music. I like to read the liner notes. I enjoy knowing who played drums on what Jerry Lee Lewis record. I scan pages and pages purely to discover who produced what songs on a compilation album (which helped me understand at a young age why Rod Stewart's career has been so bi-polar). I was actually quite excited to see that a new design had been implemented for CD cases; it's much better than the old design in my opinion. There's also the fact that I can buy a CD of a band I've never heard of and journey home in mounting anticipation of whether my twelve pounds was well spent. There's none of that with file-sharing. I'm not condemning it or anything. I don't have a solid opinion of the whole messy business. If I ever do you can be sure I will be warming up the ol' fingers for a good Blogging session before you can say "Basshunter gives me aural hemorrhoids" (I will stand by this accusation until research is undertaken! You hear me?).
But what I am trying to get at (and I'm just tripping up constantly on my way) is that I have been forced to live with essentially the same iTunes library for some months now. I have realized quite suddenly how eclectic and unpredictable the collection is. I have everything from Buddy Holly to Andrew W.K., Muddy Waters to Lostprophets, Schubert to Duke Ellington. Admittedly I have little time for the rubbish on mainstream radio...If you want to hear some decent music on the radio you have to either listen very late at night or listen to Radio 2 on a Saturday afternoon and cross your fingers. It's a shame because there are enough new bands with good songs to flood the radio waves with quality. Instead we hear "Sex on Fire" every twenty minutes, punctuated by a new Snow Patrol song (we get it...you're miserable...). If the DJs would only look to the likes of The Hold Steady, Jeff Tweedy, Jakob Dylan and The Wallflowers, Bon Iver, Fleet Foxes and Howlin' Rain to name but a few. If only they could delve that little deeper, scrape off the layer of grimy mediocrity and discover people making good music! People who don't coast by on the fact that they are Bruce Springsteen or The Rolling Stones and whose work is all the better for it. It's infuriating the state of our eminent radio stations... Beyond my distaste for mainstream British radio I have no affection for the bone chilling screams of black-clad metal "singers", threadbare patience for the corporate rhymes of rap artists and a hatred of dance music the intensity of which strikes fear and shock into the heart of God himself. The only reason that reggae does not feature as heavily as it should is that I haven't reached the reggae section of my CD collection. I can't wait though!
But what I am trying to get at is how, on an ordinary hour's walk (see my last entry), I can experience such a vast array of feelings and emotions, thoughts and ideas and even walking speeds. As a little experiment I am going to shuffle through my library for a little while and include a list of the songs that come up, along with a litte description of its possible effects. This is science! For science!
1. Through the Lonely Nights The Rolling Stones - A nice, mid-tempo ballad, surprisingly uplifting for its melancholy title, likely to inspire a general feeling of well-being.
2. Variation XX: Un poco più vivo Sergei Rachmaninov (from Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini)- Short and dramatic, a builder of tension with small flutters of morale raising splendour.
3. I Put a Spell on You Buddy Guy & Carlos Santana - An improvement on the original, a driving rock number instilling in the listener a certain swagger and confidence, and obviously awe at the potent cocktail mixed up by probably the world's two greatest living guitarists - Recommended (with a capital R).
4. Madison Blues George Thorogood & The Destroyers - A shuffling blues rhythm which will force a bounce to enter the walk of anyone without such mercilessly concentrated self-consciousness as me...
5. Will the Circle be Unbroken? (Live) Gregg Allman - Frankly, if this song doesn't make you feel like you've just beat cancer then I shan't waste my precious words on you.
6. Fortunate Son (Live) John Fogerty - For me, a shot of oak-matured malt nostalgia, warm but ass-kicking.
7. Last Nite The Strokes - Just a really good song, Summery... to me at least.
8. Handbags and Gladrags Rod Stewart - A relic from Rod Stewart's golden years. Makes me feel a bit sad really but I can't help but be cheered up by that magnificent bridge!
9. Here Comes a Regular The Replacements - Typical Replacements ballad, filled with regret, tempts out contemplative thoughts... Good for when I'm looking out from Carlton Hill (again, see last entry).
10. Caring is Creepy The Shins - Reminds me of Garden State obviously. Brings back memories of early 2008... which is wholly welcomed.
11. Accused of Love Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers - My second favourite rock 'n' roll band. Normally causes both sides of my head to cave in as it's one of those files which is inexplicably four times louder than the rest. Nonetheless, pleasant little acoustic guitar heavy number. Refreshing.
12. Chips Ahoy The Hold Steady - What a chorus! Another song I love perhaps more for its absorbed memories of Summer 2008 than for its melodic or lyrical merit (which it still has by the bucketload).
13. Loving Cup The Rolling Stones - A fantastic Exile-era Stones love song. Simultaneously self-deprecating and spirited. The bridge encourages all manner of pleasant day-dreaming -"...see your mouth kissing me again, what a beautiful buzz, what a beautiful buzz..." Pretty much sums up the song.
14. Pink Aerosmith - Reminds me of Andrew. 'nuff said Andrew. Wink, wink.
15. Violin Concerto - 3rd Movement Ludwig Van Beethoven - Not really known for his violin concerto (singular). Uplifting. In the scale and magnificence of the heights to which it soars it casts off the rusted and rattling chains of doubt and uncertainty with typical Beethoven-esque gusto.
There we go. I pretty much have every base covered there as far as walking is concerned. There are songs within the now chipped and dirty casing of my iPod which cater for every occasion. I like Ray Charles' jazz instrumentals when I'm cooking. The elegant melodic doodlings of Chopin are my first port of call for University work. The Scrubs soundtrack sends me to sleep at night with its comforting familiarity. Elvis Costello pumps me up for a party; the passionate country records of Gram Parsons ease me into my morning routine and the swinging brass riffs of Benny Goodman are the energetic fanfares following good news and successes.
My iPod may not have changed a great deal in the past seven months and whether or not I have is a matter for those closest to me to decide, yet the humble little device nestled in my pocket as I write is nevertheless a constant companion and a comfort. For through the miracle of its technological makeup it allows me to carry with me not only the music of anyone from Vivaldi to The Verve, but also the memories these artists and these songs have become associated with. Some of them are less happy memories than others I freely admit (see various previous entries!), but they are, at the end of the day, the beginning of the day and in the middle of the night, the rough sketch lines which interact and merge, consolidating somewhere on the blank page to form the ragged composite which is Jamie Lamb.
Whoever that may be.
('',)
Jamie
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