Making Music Matter - part two

The adage, “You Are What You Do,” can apply to your hobbies as well as your moral choices.  You say you like music?  You say music used to be an important component of your life before it gave way to reality TV, the NCAA tournament and your kids’ soccer games?  Well then, every once in a while, why not get together with some friends to discuss music? 

For the past two years I’ve been blessed to do exactly this with some fellow music geeks…er…music lovers…up in the Milwaukee area around four times a year.  Some variation of Kevin, Aaron, Scott, John, Pete and I congregate in Kevin’s “Wall of Sound” basement to play and discuss music, often bands I’ve never heard of before, or bands I’d forgotten about, or bands whose deep cuts I’d never explored.  The experience can be enlightening, infuriating, and life-affirming.  But it’s never boring. 

We often approach the night with a theme, which helps, because themes force us to go beyond the obvious.  Last month, our theme was “Songs under three minutes or over seven minutes.”  I went further and added my own personal rules: no songs from the 60s, no Yes, no Rush, no Genesis, no Zeppelin and no CDs – vinyl only.  What resulted was a fantastic mix of songs I’d never even listened to before, even those from my own collection.  Obscure tracks by Madness, Big Country, Fleetwood Mac, Robert Plant, Wheezer, Bowie, Wilco, Duran Duran, Tanita Tikarum, and much more, made our list that night.  I walked away with dozens of songs and bands to reexamine.

Of course, you don't have to see friends in person these days to discuss music.  I've got another set of buddies who share music and opinions back and forth each week via email.  Again, it's an experience that never fails to spark an interesting viewpoint, even when the music fails to grab your gut.

If you don’t have friends that you can truly discuss music with, you should probably find some new friends.  But here’s an alternative: listen to others discuss music.

Chicago is blessed to be the home of a terrific radio show about music, Sound Opinions, hosted by columnists Jim DeRogatis and Greg Kot, and NPR stations nationwide have picked up this syndicated show.  Sure, DeRogatis and Kot’s tastes may be wildly different from your own (they often talk about bands I have absolutely no interest in), but the hosts are so obviously in love with music that it’s hard not to respect them even when they make a recommendation that's out of left field.  Their show also subscribes to the occasional theme and regularly highlights new releases that you might not otherwise have exposure to. 

This week’s Sound Opinions show examines those bands that produced not one, not two, not three, but four knockout albums in succession, a rare feet they coin “Musical Grand Slams”  It’s fun topic that could stir debate among music lovers for weeks on end.  Before they started their list, the first artist that popped into my head was Stevie Wonder.   Bingo - the first artist featured on the radio program was Stevie Wonder.  A no-brainer.  Some of the other artists they mentioned made no sense to me.  Some I thought of would undoubtedly make no sense to them.

But that’s what makes it fun. 

Want to make music matter again?  Start talking about it.

Making Music Matter Again - part one

One of my more obnoxious qualities circa 1985 (and there were many) was, upon hearing a song on the radio, reciting the song title, artist, album, year, album side and song number.  So, when a particular song crackled on WQFM, I might say something like, “Goodbye Stranger, Supertramp, Breakfast in America, 1979, side one, third song.” 

It goes without saying that I didn’t date much circa 1985.

At that time in my life, records weren’t just purchased; they were digested.  After all, an LP at K-Mart cost the equivalent of two hours of dishwashing at Seigo’s Japanese Steakhouse – I needed to make the most of my record-buying binges by not only listening to the record, but studying the album’s cover, lyrics and liner-notes.  (One of the biggest disappointments was purchasing a record that came in a blank white sleeve; it diminished the whole listening experience).  Even albums that fell flat initially called for repeated listens, as I forced myself to justify a poor purchase until something redeeming was revealed, and with the exception of Gregg Rollie’s solo LP, I always found something positive to take away from a record purchase.

Today, music can be accessed, purchased, copied and shared with one click, often a song at a time, so the idea of reciting an album side and song number has become an anachronism (and has probably allowed music geeks to land a few more dates).  More importantly, the access to free music has resulted in its devaluation.  Music has become disposable, no more valuable than a paper plate.  Unless you’re talking about sunsets, love and air, that which is free generally has little to no worth.

Recently, I’ve made strides to making music matter again in my life.  There are a number of steps a music lover can take to become more actively engaged in music listening.  Number one: listen to vinyl.

I am not a vinyl snob.  I never got into expensive stereo equipment.  I haven't refrained from purchasing CDs.  I love listening to music on the go.  And the lower quality of compressed music on-line has never been a big deal to me.  I don’t listen to vinyl for the so-called superior sound quality.  I listen to vinyl because I can only do it when I’m in my basement where there’s nothing else to do except listen to the music, and because there’s something magical about placing a needle into the groove of a record – it’s one of those mundane acts that transcends the act itself, forming a link to generations, artists, and eras gone by.

I asked  Chris Ellensohn, co-owner of Cheap Kiss Records in Schaumburg, Illinois, to explain why vinyl matters.  He said it was summed up best by an intern his company hired a few years ago: “I feel like you should have to work a little bit for your music so that it is not taken for granted.”

A good summary, but Chris elaborates more eloquently than I ever could.  “Retrieving the record, carefully removing it from the jacket, cleaning it if necessary, gingerly dropping the needle into the groove, perusing the liner notes as the first strains of that particular band’s attempt at a first impression greet you, are all moments of connection to the artist.  Compare it to a painting by your favorite artist hanging on your wall vs. having a picture of it on your phone.  Having something tangible can make a big difference. 

“The fact that we can hit play on iTunes and shuffle our way to hours of uninterrupted background noise just makes us more removed from the point of musical inception, that moment in time when a fleeting thought fleshed itself out into a melody, harmony and rhythm intended to worm its way into your brain and not let go.”

The idea that we’ve become “more removed from the point of musical inception” resonates in other areas of our lives: the clothes we wear, the food we eat and the furniture we sit on.  Listening to vinyl is akin to growing your own vegetables, building your own bookshelf, or knitting your own sweater.  There’s something pure, perhaps even noble, about listening to music like it truly matters.

Give it a try sometime.  And if you’re in the western ‘burbs of Chicago, come and join Chris and Cheap Kiss Records tonight (March 18) from 6-8PM at Cornerstone Used Books in Villa Park.  They’ll be talking – and spinning – records.  Tonight’s theme: 70s AM Radio Hits.