…And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead - Madonna (1999)

Most likely bought in 2000, most likely in York

Of this I am certain: I had this record when I started university. I distinctly remember it being CD number one in my revolving CD rack (even then I was keen to keep them in alphabetical order). Everything else about owning this record is up for my unwitting revisionism.

I cannot remember what prompted me to get this record, so there is a danger of me rationalising such a purchase. I was 17 or 18 at the time, an age when one’s music tastes (well, mine anyway) are not fully formed. I don’t think it would have been a conscious thought at the time, but it does look to me now like a CD to make my collection look a little more broad, a little more eclectic. Compared to the other records I had at the time, it was heavy. But listening to it now, and knowing more about what is out there, this record is fairly flimsy.

I’d always dabbled in heavier music, but never really got on with the metals or the rawk. John, a friend at school, introduced me to Guns N’ Roses and (just months before Cobain’s death) Nirvana, but that was about as heavy as I could take back then. Years later I recall with embarrassment (and a little pride) the time I went up to the rock night DJ in a Reading club and requested the absolute heaviest thing I could think of. “Excuse me, have you got any Idlewild?”

The response I got from that DJ convinced me I was in the wrong place, but soon afterwards I found where I was supposed to be: at a club that liked to call itself ‘legendary’. For seven years I frequented the After Dark Club in Reading, and when I’m back in town I always endeavour to pop in to make sure it’s the same old place (13 years after my first time, it more or less is).

Nowadays I tend to wander in long after the place has filled up, but back then I would be one of the first through the door. It would be very quiet, save for a couple of old guys playing dominos, and another couple of old guys playing pool in the back. Before the hoards arrived (requesting ‘She Bangs The Drums’ and ‘Song 2’, every week) resident DJs Tom and Johnnie would play stuff that they were excited about themselves. In early 2001 that was At The Drive-In’s ‘One Armed Scissor’ and Trail Of Dead’s ‘Mistakes & Regrets’.

There’d be only three or four of us dancing on the stage, the room otherwise empty. But I was so excited to hear music that I actually wanted to hear and dance to, it did not matter. Not even a little bit drunk at this point (about 10pm) we would throw ourselves around to new music. For the first time since moving away from home, I truly felt I was where I belonged.

I remember one time after I’d danced myself silly to one song another came on, even fresher than the last. Little did I know that it was Debaser from 1989. “This is amazing! What is this?” I asked either Alec or Andy, my fellow dancers. “It’s the Pixies!” they replied, a mix of excitement and incredulity. The fresh tune was ‘Debaser’ from 1989. 18-year-old students know nothing.

One of my ways of combatting ignorance was by heeding the advice of my good friend Oggy, whom I dubbed ‘Music Guru of the Nineties’. I would pick up tips from older siblings about older music, but left on my own I had no clue about decent contemporary stuff. I relied on Oggy, who would always seem to have his finger a little closer to the pulse than I ever did. It is highly likely that Trail of Dead was one of his recommendations, possibly pulled from one of the NMEs (then still credible) and Melody Makers (then still existent) piled high in his attic bedroom. As his influence on my taste was a constant for at least seven years, I expect there’ll be many CDs on this blog that were bought on his say-so.

I feel I cannot judge Madonna fairly. I can;t remember buying it, why I bought it, or when I stopped listening to it. I saw Trail of Dead a year or so ago, and I’d not listened to it for a long time. Their failure to live up to my ancient adolescent expectations still smarts. Large sections of it are difficult to listen to, and not in the challenging provocative way. I’m trying to avoid laziness here, but it is too easy to say that Madonna sounds like a record of choice for a sixth former who thinks too much but not too well. Name-checking John Lennon’s killer makes me feel even more uncomfortable than it did then, and lyrics like the following from ‘Aged Dolls’ make me cringe:

Drip... drip on to the tombs of the soulless...

Drip on to your aorta...

Drip as fiery cinder

On to this sweltering town

So I'm sweet on you

I am transparent

So I'm sweet on you

I am a motherfucking ghost

But for all the embarrassing bits, there’s still much to enjoy on the album. Had I not been doing this project I might never have heard ‘Flood of Red’ again, and ‘Mistakes & Regrets’ sounds as kicking as it ever did in the After Dark. And the drums are a chaotic joy. Even after all this time they sound like they're about to fall apart on most of the songs, but they tighten up at the last moment each time.

It was not a mistake to buy it; I don’t regret not putting it on the CD player for a decade or more. It’s good to listen and check, but it’s equally good to put it back on the shelf.

The American Analog Set - The Golden Band (1999), Know By Heart (2001), Updates (2001)

Bought in Reading HMV in 2005

Here is another band that I am going to talk about as a whole, rather than do a separate piece for each record. This is in part another reflection of my CD buying behaviour, in that I bought these CDs in quick succession. It is also a reflection on the band’s musical style. You could play me a song from any of these CDs and I would not be able to tell you which it came from. That is not a criticism of the music, but my attempt to articulate that the American Analog Set have a singular sound that need not be adjusted. You know what you’re going to get.

I was first made aware of ‘AmAnSet’ by my friend Andrew in 2003-2004, when we lived in the same house. He had bought their latest record Promise of Love (2003). In particular, it was opening track ‘Continuous Hit Music’ that Andy wished to play to me. There are other great songs on there, like ‘Come Home Baby Julie, Come Home’, but it was that opener that struck me.

It must’ve struck Andy too, because he started making music that was more than a little indebted to it. He, our other housemates and I started joking around about forming a band. Had things gone another way, we might’ve ended up playing acoustic music with brushed drum beats going at a decent mid-tempo lick, with some woozy keys draped over the top. It didn’t turn out that way at all, but there was something of AmAnSet in that band that I could hear, even if no one else could.

By June 2004 I was working at HMV in Reading. Promise of Love was never in the racks, but other albums of theirs were. I started collecting them them, getting the final one, Updates, soon after 16th November 2005 (it still has my customer order sticker on the front).

Not long before that I bought Andy a birthday present, 2005’s Set Free. Since then the band seem to have been what is invariably called an indefinite hiatus. If only bands like this could carry on. Too many bands reform these days, and it’s never the right ones.

Andrew Kenny, founding member of American Analog Set, has also contributed to Broken Social Scene, and has another band called the Wooden Birds. I know next to nothing about either of them.

Akron/Family - Love is Simple (2007)

Like the previous record, most probably bought in Reading, possibly HMV, in 2008

One day, my friend Jenni from the United States of America played a YouTube video of a song called 'Love & Space' by Akron/Family. I cannot find the video she showed me, which I recall featured the band walking down New York City streets, singing. Here's different video of the same song. It felt like it was going to be one of those songs that would lead me in a new music-listening direction. I expected I would like all of this new band’s music, and the music of other bands by association.

It didn’t quite work out that way. Within a year I would have picked up three Akron/Family records (this and Angels of Light on CD and Akron/Family on vinyl), but I’d not had it click with me in the way I had expected. Perhaps it was because I’d managed to avoid the album that featured the song that got me into them in the first place - and I still haven’t heard it to this day (when am I going to listen to it? When?).

But then one day, perhaps the day I bought this album, I got word from Jenni, who was by now back in the United States. Akron/Family were coming to England. They were to play the Lexington in Kilburn and the End of the Road festival. I should go to the Lexington, I should introduce myself to them, and I should ask for a guest pass for the festival.

This is a typical move by Jenni. She presents you with an interesting idea and says do it, even it might be out of your character to do that thing. Maybe ask yourself, is it so out character? And why should it be? With Jenni’s encouragement I have had wonderful times that I could’ve easily dismissed. I can't remember a single occasion where following Jenni's advice led to something bad happening (or worse, nothing happening at all).

So I went. I bought a ticket to their London gig, and I did introduce myself to them. And Dana, the drummer, did indeed invite me to take the guest pass. It would go to waste otherwise. Any friend of Jenni’s is a friend of theirs.

I’d never been to a festival on my own before, but I would recommend it to anyone. I saw all the bands I wanted to see; I got up when I wanted; I ate when I wanted; I went exploring; I even ran into about half a dozen friends and whiled a few hours away with them. I met one of the organisers’ mothers.

Akron/Family’s music is ideal for this kind of thing. All optimism and happiness and joy. Sometimes a bit too positive for its own good. There are moments in ‘Ed Is A Portal’ that are so uncomfortable that they make me squirm. Where’s the sadness that makes this degree of happiness bearable? But you don't have to listen too hard to hear it’s there on the album: threaded throughout ‘Lake Song/New Ceremonial Music For Moms’; rippling the surface of the millpond in the chorus of ‘Don’t Be Afraid, You’re Already Dead'. There's lovely subtle time signature change on its chorus, moving from 3/4 to 5/4 and back again.

As a thank you to Akron/Family for their generosity, I bought a pack of coffee beans and tossed it to them onto the stage. I believe Jenni’s new job in a Brooklyn coffee shop led to their meeting, so it felt apt. Months later I would run into one of the Akron/Family in a Manhattan coffee shop after I’d listened to a Do Make Say Think album whilst wandering about town. I had spoken to him before about how much I'd enjoyed listening to & Yet & Yet (2002) whilst approaching JFK from Heathrow. He in turn recommended listening to it whilst walking around Manhattan. Now I recommend it to you, if you can bear the joy it brings.If I'm ever there again, I might give Love Is Simple a try. See if that works.

Angels of Light & Akron Family - Angels of Light & Akron/Family (2005)

Most probably bought in Reading, possibly HMV, in 2008

This record is likely to be one of the most neglected CDs in my collection, up until writing this piece. I almost certainly bought it at the same time as Love Is Simple (2007) (see next entry) and, as is often the case, I listened to one of them at the expense of the other.

It is because of this neglect that listening to the record now, six years after buying it, is such a delight. Preconceptions that I had of Akron/Family and, even more surprisingly, Swans have been put to rest. Up until about fifteen minutes ago I knew that Angels of Light was a collaborator on this album, but that was the extent of my knowledge, such was my curiosity. Angels of Light, AKA Michael Gira, isn’t just some guy with a hat, but is one of the founding members of the band Swans. My experience of Swans is limited, extending as far as seeing their name on ATP programmes, and being aware of their intimidating heaviness. Are they post-punk? Are the post-rock? I don’t really know, but I always had the idea that they were too heavy for the likes of me.

Not so Angels of Light. Here, he an Akron/Family borrow a bit of heaviness and light from one another, at least in my head. There’s none of the oppressive scariness that’s makes me wary of Swan, and Akron/Family are devoid of the flimsiness that is occasional elsewhere in their work.

The results are oftentimes reminiscent of Lennon/McCartney songs, which often have the dark John songs lightened by the technical touch of Paul. The Abbey Road song ‘Because’ is a presence on opening track ‘Awake’ and later on ‘Dylan Pt. 2’. Michael Gira sounds like Johnny Cash at the end of The Provider. I'm only getting these things now, now that I listen carefully for the first time. I should have done this blog a long time ago.

I suspect I will gain more insight into this album with time. This is, for now, a record of my first impressions of Akron/Family & Angels of Light, a CD that has been quietly waiting for me on a shelf in the corners of rooms.

This and the next album in my collection were introduced to me by my friend Jenni. Read on for a story.

Akron/Family gone

A brief post about losing work

For the sake of my sanity I am going to think of losing my piece on Akron/Family's album Love is Simple (2007) as a blessing in disguise. I wasn't entirely happy with what I'd written, but I was glad to have got something down and had decided to post it anyway. Then the file got corrupted and is lost forever. To satisfy my need to update this blog at least once a week, I am writing this to advise anyone reading to back up work.

If there's anything you want to keep, go back it up now. Even if it's a crappy 500 word essay that you don't really feel good about, just think what it would be like for someone to come and destroy for no good reason whatsoever. A bad first draft is a wonderful thing.

Don't put it off any longer: back it up now.

To make up for this mishap I'll be writing two pieces this week. One about Akron/Family and one about another band beginning with A.

Air - Talkie Walkie (2004)

Bought in HMV in Reading, most likely in 2006

What’s strange about this record, for me, is that it’s the only Air album I’ve ever owned. Despite Air being pretty constant on my radar ever since their debut single, ‘Sexy Boy’, I didn’t take the plunge and spend my cash on them for eight years. I was still in the death throes of my exclusive love affair with guitar rock in 1998. Why would I buy exotic, retro-futuristic gallic pop when I could buy yet another Manic Street Preachers album? Pocket money was an easily depleted resource; I couldn’t risk it on the French.

I can recall very clearly seeing the video for ‘Sexy Boy’ for the first time in 1998. I believe it was on the Chart Show (it must’ve been one of the last episodes). I remember in particular how I thought the video, featuring a massive monkey and comic-book-like images of members of the public remarking on the sexiness of said monkey, was cool and mysterious. And very French. It took my friend Stephen to point out to me that the video was actually hilarious and wacky. And very French.

The follow-up singles and the whole debut album Moon Safari (1998) were outstanding, but I never bought it. Then came the soundtrack to The Virgin Suicides (2000), but I didn’t buy that either. I started my job at HMV in June 2004, some six months after Talkie Walkie came out, but it wasn’t until about 18 months later that I got it. What really convinced me that the album was an outstanding one was its irregular but frequent appearance on the HMV stereo.

A senior member of staff would have the privilege and responsibility to pick 5 CDs to play on rotation for a chunk of the day. To my mind, the trick was to play a good mix of blatantly commercial music and more leftfield and esoteric tunes, with the ultimate goal of creating a decent shop atmosphere and, of course, shifting some units. For example, Sticking Godspeed You! Black Emperor on the stereo would last about 30 seconds before the manager would step in. But playing the same NOW compilation again and again would win you no friends amongst the staff either. One of my favourite members of staff for picking a decent playlist was Jon, and one of his usual picks was Talkie Walkie.

Up until this point, Air were one of the bands I admired and respected, but didn’t love. My puritanical attitude to music was truly a thing of the past, but Air were not lovable; at least I thought that at the time. Talkie Walkie went from being a relatively new release, to a healthy chart album, to a pleasant dance section representative. Before long it started cropping up in sales sections. Each time we had a dozen copies or more, on it would go. And in it would go to my head.

The album has a soft texture. It manages to be both floaty and dense at the same time, like a comforting fog. Along with this, each of the tracks a pulsing beat. This combination makes it ideal for working to. I must have put tons of stock out on to the shelves to this album. And walking through the massive store whilst ‘Run’ is playing was a simply beautiful thing to do. I could forget I was in a soul-crushing job for a few minutes and instead believe I was in a futuristic French supermarket, shopping for space pills.

HMV was an OK job, I guess. As it recedes into the past it’s easier to love that time. But I really hated it towards the end. It was the job I did for far too long after university. Treading water whilst I tried to work where I was going and coming up with no good answers. But when Talkie Walkie was on, I was in the right place.

The last time I spoke to Jon, he was in the right place too - France.

Aerial M - Aerial M (1997)

Bought in HMV in Reading, on or soon after 16th August 2005

With some records I’ll be able to tell you exactly when and where I acquired them. Most of the time this will be because they are among the more important ones in my collection. Not with this one. It’s a good record, but it’s only in listening to it now that I realise I am more familiar with it than I thought.

The reason I’m so sure of the when and where with this record is because I bought it when I worked at HMV. It’s not the sort of thing that is readily stocked, so I ordered it in. And there in the top left corner of the case is a price sticker (normal price stickers go in the right corner, left for customer orders so they’re easily recognised as such):

CUSTOMER  £14.99

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Aerial M Aerial M

CD WIGCD037

ANTHONY (STAFF) 16/08/05

065724/01 1

Working in a record shop can spoil you. It spoiled me to a degree. This purchase is a good example of how. I bought this record seven and a half years ago, and I could barely remember it before today. When you want to buy records, and you have a generous discount, and the easy means of ordering them in free of charge, it is easy to get carried away and buy stuff just for the hell of it. The readiness to hand cheapens it, allows you to take it for granted.

I’d become aware of David Pajo (a.k.a. Pajo, a.k.a. Papa M, a.k.a. Aerial M, a.k.a. M) some years previous when I bought another of his solo works after hearing the most blissful sound on a record shop stereo. Since then I’ve picked up the odd thing here and there, sometimes solo, other times in some band or other (Slint, Tortoise). His work is not the most readily available stuff, so one idle day I must have passed some time in HMV by going through his back catalogue and ordering his debut solo album in. Pay day will have come round and I will have gone to my hidden stash of wants and bought it.

Before putting this CD on my laptop I would have guessed that I’ve not heard it since I bought it, but it comes back to me on hearing. It’s a good short record, but not a startling one. As you would want from David Pajo, it’s a pared down affair, with judicious use of minimal instruments. There’s little more than guitar, drums and the odd synthy noise similar to some of the bleeps found on Pajo’s Tortoise albums. There’s a backwards track (penultimate track ‘Compassion For M’ sounds very close to a reversal of opening track ‘Dazed And Awake’, something that reminds me of ‘Waterfall’ and ’Don’t Stop’ on the Stone Roses’ debut album), but apart from that, it’s a straight and pleasant instrumental guitar album. Perhaps it's the unassuming nature of the album that has led me to neglect it for so long. I regret that, but it will be a fun thing to put right.