Next week is gonna be huge for new releases. Check it out:
- A Silver Mt. Zion - Born Into Trouble as the Sparks Fly Upward
- Miles Davis - In a Silent Way: The Complete Sessions [3CD]
- Dismemberment Plan - Change
- Einstürzende Neubauten - Strategies Against Architecture III
- Mogwai - My Father, My King [EP]
The few albums that have been dominating my CD player - mostly Grand Opening and Closing, Rishad Shafi Presents Gunesh, and Mekano - are in the process of getting booted by a few new acquisitions I recently got that are a bit more mainstream. In anticipation of the new Coup album, I got Genocide and Juice, and along a similarly left-wing vein, I also just got Michael Franti’s latest one, Stay Human. Both are growing on me; the latter is taking time, as it meshes so many styles, many of which strike me as a bit cheesy. I also got that Lumen album with the absurdly long name that was mentioned on rec.music.progressive - so far it seems pretty mediocre to me. The drums are waaaaay too dominant for this sort of music.
In The Album Leaf’s “The Audio Pool”, from their latest release, there’s this tinny metallic sound that carries really well into adjacent rooms. My suitemate noticed it and mentioned that it’s beating out a pretty interesting, rather unconventional rhythm. So it is - I never noticed, but it was the sound that he heard best since it carries so well. Little things… oh, there’s an MP3 of this track on the group’s website, so listen if you’re curious.
What is it with traveling that makes certain types of music seem so appropriate? Why can’t I resist listening to stuff like Godspeed You Black Emperor! or A Silver Mt. Zion or similar depressing, sparse post-rock type stuff when I’m riding on the train staring out the window at dusk? Why do I get such strong emotional reactions when I do so, emotions that I can’t even really identify? There’s just something appropriate about listening to lonely, desolate music while staring out at lonely, desolate stretches of land in the middle of nowhere, I guess…