Entry #41: Beck - Stereopathetic Soulmanure

 
1996 again, summer was in full swing by now.  I was changing.  For a good couple of years before this, I was an angry, uptight young metalhead who channeled the frustrations borne of a repressive, religious teenhood into loud, heavy music.  Much of it reflected the darkness in my own mind that again, was (ironically) informed by the religious worldview I was bought up with and fighting against.  However, this was the summer that I realised I was in danger of being swallowed whole by my own angst, so my attitude had started to shift.  Basically, I'd become a slacker.

The same new friend from the previous entry, it turns out, had a similar upbringing to mine, but he escaped sooner.  Either way, I felt I could relate to him in a lot of ways, especially given that he liked a lot of the music I did before getting into metal, and through him, I found myself drifting back there, which is how I ended up with a copy of this album.

Of course, in the 90's everyone knew who Beck was, mainly due to MTV favourite 'Loser' from 'Mellow Gold'.  However, what a lot of people didn't know is that his record contract allowed him to release less commercially accessible material on small indie labels, and 'Stereopathetic Soulmanure' was the result of that.

A cynic might dismiss the album and consider me liking it hipster posturing.  Admittedly, it's not the most immediately listenable Beck album you'll ever hear, the songs are scrappy, lo-fi affairs that sometimes sound like Beck is really just taking the piss, but for me, that was a big part of the charm.  I found something defiantly "fuck you" about songs that were so willfully discordant, noisy, and chaotic.  Above all, I found it funny and enjoyed the "WTF!?" reactions of people I'd play the album to.

At the time, mine was a tape copy of the album I'd recorded from my friend's CD.  I was living in a student house, but rather than go home for the summer, I opted to stay in town, even though the guys I was living with had gone.  To avoid paying rent, I told the landlord I had gone home and lived rent-free in the house for about 3 months by laying low and making sure I was out during the day.   And yes, I pulled it off; the landlord never came to check on the house, and I was rarely in (I only really slept there), so he was none the wiser!

One morning, I woke to a nice spliff, then played this album at full blast whilst cooking breakfast.  For some reason, that rather prosaic memory has always stuck with me, and whenever I think of this album, I think about those cheeky, rent-free summer months, most of which were spent drifting aimlessly, visiting friends, getting high (a lot), going to festivals, looking in shops at stuff we had no way of being able to afford, being poor as fuck (no steady job), but being content and perfectly happy.  It reminds me of the summer I spent unshackling myself, realising that metal no longer did it for me, making the decision to quit university and stay in town with my new friends, doing whatever for as long as I could.  I had no idea where I was going at this point, but I didn't care.  Everything was new, exciting and fun.  Perhaps the album stayed with me because my entire attitude at that point was as "fuck you" as the music on it.

'Stereopathetic Soulmanure', then.  A special album partly because of the music, partly because of the memories and partly because of what it personally represented for me at the time.  Either way, this album has a special place on this list.

                                                                   Beck : Thunder Peel

Entry #40: Smashing Pumpkins - Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness

If you've read this blog in ascending order (oldest entry to latest), this one may surprise you a little, and yes, I thought long and hard about it and eventually decided there was no way I could compile a blog made up of albums that have stayed with me over the years and leave this one off.  If you are reading this in descending order, you'll probably understand why I debated on whether I should include this later on.  And something similar will happen with another entry, as you will also see later.

So, the year was 1996 again (significant to me for music, it would seem).  It was around the start of the summer.  I'd not yet dropped out of university (I wouldn't make that decision for a couple of months), and I was still pretty much a metaller at this point.  Despite being a fan of the Pumpkins beforehand, once my metal years hit, I never really paid them any attention whatsoever, but that changed with this new guy who started hanging about with my friends and I.  If you're reading this in ascending order, then yes, this is the same guy from this entry.

Anyway, one evening, we went out to a rock night in town.  This guy invited us all back to his place after we left the club; there was about 4 or 5 of us, and we sat there getting stoned and listening to music.  At some point, he suggested putting on 'Mellon Collie'.  We were all a little skeptical at first, but he just asked us to give it a go.  So there we were, buzzed from the alcohol and the weed, listening to a band I hadn't even thought about in nearly 3 years.  I found myself being very impressed with what I heard, particularly with the way their sound had evolved from 'Siamese Dream' (and 'Gish' before that); it was definitely the same band, but their sound was more dynamic and even futuristic in places ('Love' at the time sounded like it came from the year 3000).

The tired old cliche about music sounding better when you're high certainly rang true that evening; as I sat splayed on the couch, my mind was transported to the planet this music inhabited.  In this state, the nautical, dreamlike 'Porcelina of the Vast Oceans' that closes the first disc sounded otherworldly.  By the start of the second CD, everyone else had more or less fallen asleep so I pretty much listened to it myself.  Again, I could not help but be impressed by the variety of moods and sounds that spanned the album: blissful, soothing songs gave way to all out rockers that gave way to quirky electro-pop, that gave way to haunting, ethereal soundscapes.  This staggeringly diverse, yet utterly consistent mix opened my eyes to what alternative rock in particular could be and showed me just how important eclecticism is.  For that reason, I consider this album instrumental in shaping the diverse tastes I have today.  Through the metal years that preceded this revelatory experience, I'd learned to betray my former inclinations by becoming myopic, and considered that a credit to how "metal" I was.  However, this is where that callowness began to dissolve and was the start of a huge shift in my musical consciousness, up there with the first time I heard chip music on my Commodore 64 as a kid (as briefly mentioned in the intro).  And when I wasn't listening to the music, I was poring over the elaborate and enigmatic artwork that lined the CD or reading the lyrics.  I was utterly captivated.

Two albums later, the Pumpkins would begin a steady, ignominious fall from grace from which they would never recover.  To this day, the shuffling zombie that masquerades as this once great band only serves to cheapen its legacy, with Billy Corgan himself become harder to like as time goes on.

Nevertheless, I cannot begin to articulate the effect this masterpiece of a record had, somehow influencing everything I went on to do and become, both consciously or unconsciously.  Without a doubt, its' sounds well and truly made me.

                                                            Smashing Pumpkins : Love

Entry #39: Outkast - Aquemini

I first got into Outkast somewhere around the turn of the millennium.  I was visiting a friend who played me 'Stankonia', which at the time, was their latest album.  I immediately got the impression this was not your usual hip hop album, and Outkast your usual hip-hop group.  What struck me was the sheer variety of sounds on display, the way everything was so effortlessly woven together from funk, electronica, rock and soul, the way they unapologetically embraced avant garde sensibilities, the sheer sense of fun the record exuded and of course, the wordplay.  I went out and bought the album the very next day.

Some years later, I discovered 'Aquemini'.  I can't actually remember why I decided to pick it up, but I did, and I was completely blown away.  As with 'Stankonia', I was floored by Outkast's knack for crafting such an immaculately realised world within their music, comprised as it was of a richly eclectic sonic DNA so far ahead of many of the group's peers and contemporaries.

A defining characteristic of Outkast's music is its fresheness, and for me, 'Aquemini' epitmoises that principle almost perfectly (arguably more so than Speakerboxxx/Love Below, which says a lot).  With each new track comes a raft of new ideas, and the feeling of not knowing just where the album is going from song to song is one of the things that made it such a joy to listen to the first time around.  When I first got this album, I was also doing a stint of DJ-ing at a pub I frequented and 'Synthesizer' regularly featured in my sets, but the standout song for me definitely has to be 'Liberation' which has since become one of my favourite songs of all time.  The song possesses a tremendous emotional range and depth that is even more pronounced by the proliferation of guest vocalists that appear on it (Erykah Badu and Cee-Lo being two notables).  It instantly struck a chord with me the very first time I heard it and is a big part of the reason why I am so fond of this album.

So yes, 'Aquemini' is a very special hip-hop album, and one that has remained with me ever since I first heard it.

Entry #38: Polvo - Exploded Drawing

First of all, I hate the term 'Math rock'.  I'm not American, the word is maths.  M-A-T-H-fucking-S, OK?

I'm glad that's out of the way.

Anyway, for me, this genre sits somewhere on the unlikely intersection between Indie and Prog rock.  It features the compositional nuances typically associated with Prog (i.e. unconventional key and time signatures) but without the self-indulgence and pretension.  As an aside, I have tried to give Prog rock a chance, I really have, but it mostly leaves me cold.  Throughout my life, I've always known at least one person into the likes of King Crimson and Yes (to give two obvious examples), but it does nothing for me.  I find Prog too onanistic; all technicality and theatrics but little in the way of spark or vitality and songs that sound more like elaborate guitar exercises than anything I'd actually want to listen to.  The closest I get to anything approaching Prog would probably be Tool or even Mew.

This is where Math rock (shudders) is different for me at least.  Yes, it can be noodly, it can be willfully obtuse at times and yes, it can definitely be self-indulgent, but the songs feel more alive, more vital, possessing an edge and energy absent from Prog.  I don't get the impression that Math rockers are in love with their own sense of self-importance and neither is their music delivered with that infuriating, near-pornographic abandon that makes Prog so draining to listen to.  The lack of showboaty guitar solos also helps a lot, too.  (Seriously Prog guys, fuck off with that shit.)

I mention all of this because Polvo are seen as the standard-bearers of Math rock; and whilst their music is very technical and nuanced, it remains relatable and grounded, and therein lies its appeal.  More cynical readers might say I'm essentially justifying liking Prog by any other name.  Whatever.

For me, this album stands out for a couple of reasons. For one, I absolutely love the production.  Bob Weston provides a well balanced, no-nonsense sound, creating space for the band to fill and not stifling the mix with superfluous studio gimmickry, which is exactly what a band like Polvo needs.  The songs themselves are playful and quirky and don't take themselves too seriously, something which only serves to make the music all that more endearing, even during those moments where it threatens to veer into navel-gazing territory. 

                                                                  Polvo : Purple Bear

Entry #37: Portishead - Third

 
I could enthuse about this album all day.

Of course, 'Dummy' was a great record, who didn't like that?  To this day, it's the "go-to" album for most Portishead listeners.  The follow up was a bit "meh" (in my ever so humble opinion), but certainly had its moments.

Somewhere around 1997, I watched the entire live set of Portishead at Roseland NYC on TV one evening and was blown away.  This was just before the second album came out, so the set featured a few songs which would've been new at the time.  I was particularly taken by the raw edge of the new numbers like 'Cowboys' and was similarly impressed by the darker live takes on older tracks (the Roseland version of 'Sour Times' still gives me goosebumps and pisses all over the album version).  I took this as a sign of things to come, hastening my excitement for the new album.

Unfortunately, as stated above 'Portishead' was a bit underwhelming for me.  Don't get me wrong, it's not a bad album, but it just felt a little too "safe" and I daresay too polished, especially when compared to the Roseland set.

Then, Portishead disappeared off the face of the earth for almost 10 years.

The wait, however was well and truly worth it because 'Third' ended up being the album I wished 'Portishead' had been.  Gone was the now hackneyed Trip-Hop formula, replaced with a grittier, more textured sound.  These new songs had teeth, incorporating elements of Joy Division, Silver Apples and 60s psychedelia to great effect.  Elements of the old sound still lingered, but it was rougher and dirtier overall.  Floating atop the edgier soundscape was Gibbons' characteristic vocal; plaintive, spent and beautifully forlorn.  I fell in love with the more experimental direction straight away and the album became an instant favourite for me.

'Third' also has what I consider one of the best album closers of all time; the insistence of the forboding, doom-laden guitar drone finale to 'Threads' sounding like the world really is coming to an end.  A cliche perhaps, but never has it been so apt. 

Why this album succeeds for me is that it shows a band not afraid to challenge themselves or rest on their laurels.  They could've quite easily produced another album similar in scope to their previous two, but chose not to repeat themselves, and that counts for a lot in my eyes.

                                                                  Portishead : Threads

Entry #36: Flaming Lips - Transmissions from the Satellite Heart

 
Generally speaking, I don't do "favourites".  What I mean by that is if someone asks me who my favourite bands are, I find it hard to give a definitive answer.  That being said, there are a handful of bands and artists that are certainly up there: Sonic Youth and Bjork come to mind, and a third would be Flaming Lips.

I was first introduced to this band sometime in the early to mid-90s by a guy I later fell out with (long story).  In spite of our interpersonal differences, he was similarly passionate about music and was a huge Flaming Lips fan.  One night he played me 'They Punctured my Yolk' from 'Clouds Taste Metallic' and I was hooked.  It was an immense, epic tune, made even more so by Dave Fridmann's wide, spacious production.  I didn't rush out and buy any of their albums at that point (I was still a metaller then), but I didn't forget what I heard.  A few years later, after metal had already stopped doing it for me, I saw 'She Don't Use Jelly' on MTV, remembered the band and picked up 'Transmissions' on cassette.

Flaming Lips are most fondly remembered for 'Soft Bulletin', the album that followed this one, but for me, 'Transmissions' represented their zenith (though 'Clouds' and 'In a Priest Driven Ambulance' comes very close).  For me, it's a summery, feelgood record.  From the opener 'Turn it On', I'm immediately transported to that place where the sun is shining and everything is good so naturally, that is also when the album sounds best.

                                             Flaming Lips : Pilot Can at the Queer of God

Entry #34: Archers of Loaf vs The Greatest of All Time

 
OK, I know this one isn't an album, it's an EP.  But still, it's my blog so I can bend the rules if I want to!  :P

Either way, I had to include this.

It was sometime in the summer of 1996, I'd dropped out of uni and was living in the town where I'd originally gone to study.  By this point, I was hanging around with a local crowd which included one other guy who'd done the same thing as me a year earlier, and it was this guy who introduced me to this EP.

The two of us were sitting in his flat getting stoned and listening to music.  I was still, to all intents and purposes a metalhead at this point, but that was slowly changing as I began to tire of listening to one genre of music all the time.  And throughout the course of this languid sunny mid-week afternoon, this guy played music that brought me back to my indie/alt-rock years.

"Did you used to listen to Archers of Loaf before?" he asked, referring to my pre-Metal days.

"No, never heard of them," I said.

Then he put on this EP and it blew me away.

Melodic but noisy, aggressive yet measured, it was exactly what I needed to hear to reawaken my former self.  To this day, when I hear this EP, I think of sunlight bleeding into the living room that afternoon, fusing into my mental associations with the music itself.  I think of the energy of opener 'Audiowhore', the goosebumps from the bass chords of its pre-chorus and the sulky 'Freezing Point' that seemed like a musical representation of everything I felt then, but couldn't put into words.  Later that afternoon as I walked home in a buzzed haze, the outro to 'All Hail the Black Market' morphed with the honey hues of the late afternoon, melting away the concrete blandness that framed the cityscape.

So yes, this little EP had quite an effect on me, being just what I needed at just the right time, earning itself a well deserved place here.

                                              Archers of Loaf : All Hail the Black Market