Today I was listening to On Fire--the second Galaxie 500 LP -- for perhaps the 1,000,000,000th (one billionth) time, and as I took in the opening chords -- slow and chiming, very melodic and warm, but slightly distorted or perhaps overdriven in the manner of a Gibson 'Les Paul' guitar played through a Fender amplifier -- I tried to remember the first time I had ever heard this record. Oddly, I can remember being a senior in college and looking at the orange-tinted cover in my friend Brian's room, but I can only remember being somewhat confused as to why anyone would want to listen to this syrupy crap when you could continuously rock out to Dinosaur, Jr/Mudhoney/The Stooges/The Meat Puppets/Husker Du/Public Enemy (via white guilt) and the Minutemen.
I don't think I heard On Fire again until after college, when I was living in Brooklyn and one of my roommates -- also named Brian, but not the same one -- had a girlfriend whose last name was "Shakespeare" and she somewhat miraculously -- because it was out of print -- owned a CD of the record, so I made a cassette. Or no, actually the first Brian (who also lived in this apartment) made me the cassette, because I can remember at the end of it he put some zany 'bachelor pad' songs from the early sixties; that used to be something that I guess was sort of fun whenever you made a tape for someone, i.e., not a mix-tape (which, let's face it, was a lot of work), but to surprise them with something at the end. There was something very satisfying about picking a song that ended exactly at the same time as the tape, but it was by no means a requirement; it was understood that 'bonus material' might end at any second.
I digress! When I heard those opening chords today, I had the sense that they somehow defined me, and that I will never escape them for as long as I live, so that even if I'm 115 years old and in a nursing home, I would be comforted to hear them, almost as if I had written them myself. I was reminded of certain Simon & Garfunkel songs that you always hear in the subway (via the Peruvian flutes), so that it becomes almost inconceivable that some kid from Queens wrote them and that they didn't originate in the Andes. On the whole, though, I'm relieved that "Blue Thunder" -- the first song on On Fire -- has not been claimed by another culture in this manner, because I think (despite everything I just said), it would ruin it for me (via overexposure).
The stalks of the campanula have been extremely vigorous this year, but I can't seem to cut them back, because the purple blooms that are attached are too beautiful to inhibit or contain.
They are on fire.
Are there songs you've listened to so many times that you almost can't believe you didn't write them yourself?
This is a post about memory/aging/nostalgia/deconstruction/capitalism/alienation.
This is a post about longing to be somewhere/anywhere else when you're slogging away on the rowing machine/treadmill/elliptical on ur lunch hour at the gym.
This is a post about 'going on vacation.'
I'll drive so far away
I"ll drive so far away
I'll drive so far away
I'll drive so far away
Thanks for your post on the subjective potency of pop music, and for recalling the magical, pre-iTunes era of dedicated, laborious, cassette-album making. (I used the fade-out method for making more exactly filled tapes -- esp. helpful when playing in 'auto-reverse' mode.)
"Are there songs you've listened to so many times that you almost can't believe you didn't write them yourself?" And: "When I heard those opening chords today, I had the sense that they somehow defined me..."
Living in Oblivion by Anything Box;
Downtown by Petula Clark;
Why Should I Cry for You? by Sting;
I Had a King by Joni Mitchell;
Free Man in Paris by Joni Mitchell;
Words by Missing Persons;
Soldier & Child by Anything Box;
Answer Me by Anything Box;
Talking Loud & Clear by OMD;
Longtime by Boston;
Deadbeat Club by B52s;
Tomorrow Never Knows by the Beatles;
Sunday Will Never Be The Same by Spanky & Our Gang;
Jennifer, Juniper by Donovan;
I Am A Rock by Simon & Garfunkel;
Runaway Train by Roseanne Cash;
No More I Love Yous by Annie Lennox;
Tiny Dancer by Elton John;
Gypsy by Stevie Nicks;
Flying Cowboys by Ricki Lee Jones;
Video Killed the Radio Star by the Buggles;
Save It For Later by the English Beat;
Bittersweet Symphony by The Verve;
Take Me Home by Phil Collins;
Heroes by Bowie;
The Last Time I Saw Paris by Hammerstein/Kern.
...Just off the top of my head...
Posted by: cfl | 06/18/2009 at 01:18 AM
Great list, CFL! Thanks for sharing...I was def obsessed with Bittersweet Symphony for a many years, too...
Posted by: Matthew Gallaway | 06/18/2009 at 08:41 AM