DIG DIG DIG ALWAYS DEEPER DEEPER
I think this credo pretty much sums up my lifelong modus operandi when it comes to music.
There are always new things to discover. Music from bands I've never heard, and even in albums I thought I knew like the back of my hand. For this reason I listen to Pink Floyd's Piper in the Gates of Dawn several times a year, but couldn't tell you for sure whether or not I own Dark Side of the Moon. I've already devoured that one, yeah-it's-great-and-stuff-but-I-don't-ever-hear-anything-new-in-it-so-stop-it-already. Don't ever make me wallow through that dreary Us Us Us Us And Them Them Them Them And Awwwfter all we only ORDINARY MEN men men men. Give me Syd Barrett singing about either an evil feline, or maybe a particularly wild, groovy girlfriend: Lucifer go to sea. Be a hip cat, be a ship's cat. Somewhere, anywhere. That cat's something I can't explain. OK, enough about Pink Floyd. Maybe I should be talking fellow English psychedelics Soft Machine instead, but I don't wanna lose you. Plus they're hit or miss anyway.
Anyway.
This exemplifies to me why I so often buy, borrow, even steal (damn internet makes a crook outta me sometimes) so much music... and so rarely sell CDs, records, and even those damn cassette tapes. It's like a painful, "what happened", if I look for an album and I realize I sold it. The wretched truth is that I need music around me at all times. Old stuff will do, but something newly "discovered" is even better. Shannon would attest to how even a short car ride to the grocery store without remembering to bring a couple CDs can be a big problem in my world.
Maybe being a musician has something to do with why I can't relax about music. Not to say that I'm any different than anyone else who feels quality is important, but it gets obsessive at times. To everyone I've annoyed, sorry. Blame my parents (and my brother) for instilling it in me.
It's the same reason I had this crazy dream a couple nights ago. I was going to perform with my band at this little mini festival in some creepy city I didn't recognize. Nothing too unusual yet.... this I have done. But people were starting to show up, and I got a copy of the flyer, and instead of seeing my band's name on the flyer, it was just my name.
Barrett will be performing an installation for drums, cymbals and gong entitled BASTARD MAGNET SING.
Having nothing prepared, I panicked, which was enough to wake me from my slumber. And I got up right away and was going to head to the rehearsal space to go figure something out. Then I had coffee, and put on a record, and eventually calmed down.
Wait. This was supposed to be about being a music fan. Hmmm, I'm clearly not adept at keeping to a subject. OK, I'll try to get back to that tomorrow.
Or, maybe I need to work on my "installation". I wonder what that would entail....
-pbrchicken
BONUS FEATURE!
today's obsession:
Nazz: Nazz, Nazz Nazz, and Nazz III.
There are always new things to discover. Music from bands I've never heard, and even in albums I thought I knew like the back of my hand. For this reason I listen to Pink Floyd's Piper in the Gates of Dawn several times a year, but couldn't tell you for sure whether or not I own Dark Side of the Moon. I've already devoured that one, yeah-it's-great-and-stuff-but-I-don't-ever-hear-anything-new-in-it-so-stop-it-already. Don't ever make me wallow through that dreary Us Us Us Us And Them Them Them Them And Awwwfter all we only ORDINARY MEN men men men. Give me Syd Barrett singing about either an evil feline, or maybe a particularly wild, groovy girlfriend: Lucifer go to sea. Be a hip cat, be a ship's cat. Somewhere, anywhere. That cat's something I can't explain. OK, enough about Pink Floyd. Maybe I should be talking fellow English psychedelics Soft Machine instead, but I don't wanna lose you. Plus they're hit or miss anyway.
Anyway.
This exemplifies to me why I so often buy, borrow, even steal (damn internet makes a crook outta me sometimes) so much music... and so rarely sell CDs, records, and even those damn cassette tapes. It's like a painful, "what happened", if I look for an album and I realize I sold it. The wretched truth is that I need music around me at all times. Old stuff will do, but something newly "discovered" is even better. Shannon would attest to how even a short car ride to the grocery store without remembering to bring a couple CDs can be a big problem in my world.
Maybe being a musician has something to do with why I can't relax about music. Not to say that I'm any different than anyone else who feels quality is important, but it gets obsessive at times. To everyone I've annoyed, sorry. Blame my parents (and my brother) for instilling it in me.
It's the same reason I had this crazy dream a couple nights ago. I was going to perform with my band at this little mini festival in some creepy city I didn't recognize. Nothing too unusual yet.... this I have done. But people were starting to show up, and I got a copy of the flyer, and instead of seeing my band's name on the flyer, it was just my name.
Barrett will be performing an installation for drums, cymbals and gong entitled BASTARD MAGNET SING.
Having nothing prepared, I panicked, which was enough to wake me from my slumber. And I got up right away and was going to head to the rehearsal space to go figure something out. Then I had coffee, and put on a record, and eventually calmed down.
Wait. This was supposed to be about being a music fan. Hmmm, I'm clearly not adept at keeping to a subject. OK, I'll try to get back to that tomorrow.
Or, maybe I need to work on my "installation". I wonder what that would entail....
-pbrchicken
BONUS FEATURE!
today's obsession:
Nazz: Nazz, Nazz Nazz, and Nazz III.
posted by pbrchicken at 3:52 PM
1 Comments:
This is gonna be fun!
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