Well, I’m now single-jabbed, and by the end of this month I’ll be double Pfizzed, which brings a huge sense of euphoria. In the nineteen months of this pandemic, I’ve spent around eight months in isolation (lockdown / quarantine), eight months out and about but “on edge” and only three where I felt completely comfortable. I’m very keen to move to the next phase and start making up for lost time.
As for the month in music, I’ve been revisiting a lot of old classics. I’ve also been enjoying most of the new Jungle album (save for the few tracks with super seventies-style vocals which I can’t stand). Men I Trust dropped The Untourable Album which takes on a bit of a nineties flavour and is already one of my top albums of the year. The best music out of Canada right now.
Alone in a cave, to stay dry from all the rain Sat by a tree, all my friends are in my dreams
Week eight of my third round of isolation. The first isolation experience in Vancouver sucked massively – partly due to the unknown nature of it all, but mostly due to the endless grey weather which gave my small apartment in the sky a real prison vibe. As bad as things have gotten here, at least there’s some recognition that it is bad. Vancouver when I left was punching numbers similar to what we have in Sydney now and nobody gave a fuck.
So it’s much easier to do in Sydney where the sun is shining and warm, and I have more room to move. I can go for a walk for an hour at lunch and not have to dodge people since there’s hardly anyone out (in Clovelly and Bronte at least, I saw four people total on Friday).
The last two weeks have also been vastly improved by the Olympics. I lapped up the swimming, I took great delight in the Matildas smashing Britain, and I loved watching the Aussie girls almost claim a volleyball gold. I was left in fury at the Kookaburras’ frustrating loss, and absolute delight at the Boomers bronze win right at the end (Patty Mills is a legend). BMX and skateboarding were terrific additions. It seems odd they weren’t a part of the games sooner – they make far more sense than Golf. Seriously, golf can bugger off.
As for the tunes – I really enjoyed a lot of music this month. There’s Wavves and Inner Wave. There’s Seaquest and Swimming. There’s even Pfizer! Can’t get it in your arms, may as well get it in your ears.
I’ve also added yet another Lazy Eyes track. I was keen to check out this Sydney band next month after being impressed with every release thus far. This latest song has a little bit of an Innerspeaker vibe to sections of it, but still distinctly them (that outro thumps).
I wanna be free Free my fam’ and my mind Cause we’re locked up inside
Here we are, back in lockdown again. Stuck in a situation which could have been avoided had we not been burdened with the laziest leader in this country’s history. Had they been competent enough to procure enough vaccine supply for the start of the year, and understood the imperative of achieving the rollout as quickly as possible, we wouldn’t have to say goodbye to July and August.
Had they built suitable quarantine facilities a year ago, we could be increasing the intake of Aussies instead of cutting it and forcing people to pay exorbitant fares for the privilege of returning to their home country.
Don’t ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody.
Took this from my front door. I’ll never tire of astrological entertainment.
Yeah, I’ve really been feeling a Holden Caulfield mood this month. People, man. But the tunes keep coming with my monthly playlist below. Biggest discovery for me this month is Squid out of Brighton. Their album Bright Green Field has plugged a post-punk shaped hole in my soul, with some James Murphy / Modest Mouse -esque vocal stylings and fresh and unpredictable musical progression. Get into it.
Some other thoughts…
Today was the coldest June day in Sydney in 122 years, which I loved cause I was able to wear my Canadian clothes without looking like a Sydney winter douche (side note: it was only 5 degrees colder than the same day, opposite season back in Vancouver) *gloat*
Gerry Harvey is a colossal prick, and the cloth that he’s cut from still wraps the world like Christo. When entitled boomers make room for youth we might have a chance of moving forward. Easily the most selfish group of people to have ever existed.
I’ve now been settled back in Sydney for 6 months. The pains of 2020, and of getting home, and the weird headspace that accompanied it all, are now a speck in the rearview mirror. Work from home is now only a two-day-a-week prospect and life is starting to feel like normal.
When you’ve dearly departed There will be all those broken-hearted But I’ll have a smile painted on my face There’s a spot in the grass Waiting for you at Whispering Glades
This month is all about the real start of autumn, the cluster-fucked vaccine rollout, and a lot of great acoustic female vocals – Molly Lewis making use of an underutilised instrument (the human whistle), Natalie Bergman and Nicole Dollanganger bringing folksy tunes straight out of yesteryear, and LDR serving a solid album of fantastic tracks on Chemtrails. It’s folksier, more stripped back and consistent and less attention-seeking than her last few – and better for it. The mixing is fantastic too – every distinct detail of those vocals blows gently across the peach fuzz gracing your ear lobe.
Meanwhile, the original Gorillaz self-titled album turned 20 this month. I revisited it and reflected on just how unique and fresh it was – and, aside from two main singles, seems to remain unknown to many to this day (despite the enormous success of the two albums which followed). It’s spooky, quirky, unusual, genre-hopping and thumping, with plenty of fun and bizarre lyrical moments. It was an album that really made an impression on me. I’ve added one of the lesser-known tracks.
The Voidz also finally released TET 2.0 to streaming platforms, which cross-pollinates with The Adults Are Talking. I’ve paired it next to the Gorillaz track – The Voidz are to The Strokes what Gorillaz is to Blur (right down to the COOL Z) – I love all of the above but the more adventurous latter creations speak to me far more than the originals.
Uh, yeah, how you get closer to love? How you lemonade all your sadness when you openin’ up? How you make excuses for billionaires, you broke on the bus?
Noname, Rainforest
The original FUF had one of my favourite album covers of all time, and Tom Fec has already won best album artwork of the year for this year’s sequel
Shit yeah new Tobacco! With a throwback Tobacco sound too. I’ve been looping his dirty beats for the last week and have deemed it worthy to share the title of his 2008 debut. No individual track meets the heights of a Hairy Candy or Gross Magik, but all contribute a unique flavour to the whole. I think most of all I was longing for more tripped out vocals. This release is mostly an instrumental affair, but it makes up for the lack of lyrics with distinctive and fresh sounds.
My favourite discovery for the month was Mica Levi, who brings some incredibly unique experimental soundscapes on Blue Alibi.
Every moment’s built to last When you’re living without a past
My list of key albums continues with the (still) incredible double album Blinking Lights and Other Revelations by Eels. It seems 2005 was a critical year for my tastes in music. My sixth entry in this list is the third album from this year.
I was 22, doing my Master of Animation degree, but still working the checkout at Coles and making websites on the side. I was out seeing live music every other week and spent most of the rest of my free time coding and designing my own websites and crafting 3D short films.
Most crucially as far as this album is concerned, I was feeling a little lost with life. I knew I enjoyed 3D, computer games, and movies, and was doing very well at Uni – but I wasn’t sure yet if there was a future for me in it professionally. I’d lost my last remaining grandparent. I couldn’t talk to girls, let alone get one to go on a date – and as a friend at the time frequently added, I looked like a “foetus”, so I’m sure that didn’t help.
The last year-and-a-bit, the pandemic, the isolation, the loss of people from life, has brought up a lot of similar feelings to when I was 22 and I recently rediscovered Blinking Lights as a result. It’s just as soothing as back in 2005.
Nothing hurts Like someone who knows Everything about you Leaving you behind
And it’s a hard time Trying to get through All the days that drag on Thinking about you
Last Time We Spoke
Melancholy is effectively the happiness of being sad. It’s also the word which captures Blinking Lights perfectly. Dark, sombre lyrics, dashed with just a sprinkling of hope and humour are layered over a bright and pretty sonic landscape. The album is paced beautifully and provides several (sometimes peculiar) instrumental moments where the listener has breathing room to ponder their own world.
Themes of death, loss, rejection, regret, and heartbreak are paired with admiration for the beauty of the world, be it the kindness of a pretty girl or the twinkle of car tail lights as they pass on the highway. Each song is either told with a smile and a hint of regret; or in sadness with a dash of optimism. That’s the trouble with reflection – happy memories can often bring a sense of sadness that those times have passed, while sad memories bring regret that they happened. Thinking about the past is lose-lose in this context.
Mark Oliver Everett puts it much better:
It’s also about hanging on to my remaining shreds of sanity and the blue sky that comes the day after a terrible storm, and it’s a love letter to life itself, in all its beautiful, horrible glory.
The tour which followed the album, Eels With Strings, is one of my favourite gigs of all time. It was raw, punchy, and at times hilarious (Everett is as good as any comedian between songs). It gave new life to the songs without losing their structure. The string arrangements added new life to the older songs, while unconventional percussion instruments (a suitcase kickdrum!) kept it down to earth, fresh and unique.
That breakdown at 2:35 is begging to be sampled
Prior to Blinking Lights, I was only really familiar with Eels’ Daisies of the Galaxy, a bright and sweet album which I had enjoyed but never loved. Following Blinking Lights I went on to explore the rest of his discography in depth. I became a huge fan of his entire body of work prior. There wasn’t a song I didn’t know. Unfortunately though, Blinking was so good it became hard to top, and my interest waned with subsequent albums.
But my love of Eels lives on in other artists such as Kishi Bashi and Big Thief – and Blinking Lights and Other Revelations will always bring a tear, and a smile, to my face.
My key albums list seeks to identify albums which I loved from beginning to end, which made an impact on me musically, lyrically and thematically, and sometimes even opened my ears to new sounds and new artists. Often they were paired with a highly memorable live show. It’s not necessarily representative of what I might consider my favourites in a traditional sense, although that is possible.
Well I’ve made another lap around the sun and can no longer pass for mid thirties any more. But hey, late thirties is still not the big four-zero I suppose.
Somehow I find myself with PTSD related to my journey home from Canada. The stresses and anxieties of getting back here linger, triggered by a covid scare and cloudy weather at Christmas – and despite the glorious weather and improved opportunities and environment with which I am surrounded since. Four hours of sleep last night suggests my head doesn’t care about that.
I feel for everyone still stuck inside in other parts of the world, and for those still trying to get back to Australia. It’s shameful that so little has been done to assist them.
We’re chimpanzees with brains the size of planets. The logical, rational brain is in a fight with its chemical, emotional side. It’s little wonder the two often struggle to coexist.
Anyway, here’s some tunes! I’m pretty happy with this one…
Cutting grass with scissors, whilst the great leader’s reclining
I’m a tad late on my November playlist. I’ll probably switch to every other month after this. I considered making a yearly playlist, but it’s essentially redundant since I’ve been doing them all year. I will note though – my top played track of the year was Momentary Bliss (below). Every time in enters my ears, it leaves me in the right mood.
My most played song of the year, and for good reason. It slaps. And the album it began was their best in a decade
As for this month – new Avalanches (from the dreamiest album of the year), new Voidz, a new-ish Strokes (from a few months back), some other bits and pieces. BC Camplight opens with a really cool slow builder and a favourite Christmas tune closes the year in music.
