by Jillian Butler, Ampersandology
You won't catch a whole lot of music recommendations around these parts, mostly because I like to leave that sort of thing to the professionals. Because despite my famous tradition of dating musicians nigh-exclusively (the more tragically impoverished the better!), I openly attest to knowing nothing about music.
This is my safety net, by the way: it lets me like the Clash alongside that one song by Hilary Duff with next to no irony. So with all that in mind, I have new finds to share, and so begins my likely sole foray into music recommendations.
1. Mountains and Mouths.
Link: Bruce Peninsula.
First up is Bruce Peninsula, who I would describe as "Native American gospel music by way of Tom Waits.' I know, right? How can you NOT listen after that endorsement? Enjoy!
Bruce Peninsula, "Crabapples"
Go seek them out on their MySpace page.
You know how you sometimes read books about subjects that are completely outside your realm of experience, like Sudanese orphans or Russian despots? Just to see the world from another perspetive? That's why you listen to Bruce Peninsula. I have no idea where this mindscape comes from.
2. The gateway to Mecca is paved with bandwidth.
Link: 120 Minutes.
Sadly, I've never known what "alternative" music really was, because since a young age, all the other stuff in the other sections was alternative to me. It's gotten worse, with age, I'm afraid. The kids with their hippity hop and their beat boxing and their WIFI symphonic...! I fear the radio. And I'm barely a quarter century!
So imagine my glee when I found this archive. 120 Minutes originally aired on MTV from 1989 to roughly 2003, and was THE place to be for alternative music of the day. But then it got canceled. Its loving fans got together to compile this tribute, an itemized collection of every episode, from the featured guests to their playlists. Complete with videos! Interpol! Morcheeba! BLUR!
Their playlists are unbelievable. Don't click on the link until you're ready to say, "Okay, Afternoon, I didn't really want to use you productively, anyway." What makes this site so glorious is that in one click, you can relive the glory of the days when music artists didn't substitute units of currency for the letter S. Is it too much to ask, radio? What the hell happened to picking up an instrument and playing a song?!?
Whoa.
Okay.
So bad news: I just became my father.
3. Adventures in tangent thinking!
Link: Beck has a YouTube channel.
Beck's The New Pollution. Let's sit down and give it its due. Because it's Beck, and he is always good. Now, let's be honest: I don't have a reason for posting this, other than the following itemized reasons.
a) I want to.
b) My brain looks like this video. Approximately. So basically, what I'm implying is that my thought process translates into a 60s dance collective with sinister overtones. I'm including the frontiersman with the ax (symbolic of my sense of shame) and the German industrial conga line of funk robots (standing in for my idea of love).
c) Someday, Beck and I will live in a deserted schoolhouse in the middle of a field, and we will invite the funk robots to every meal. He'll wear shirts adorned with curtain tassels and do impressive splits at odd times. I will fashion cowboy hats for him and remain alone in the new pollution. It will be a good life.
You won't catch a whole lot of music recommendations around these parts, mostly because I like to leave that sort of thing to the professionals. Because despite my famous tradition of dating musicians nigh-exclusively (the more tragically impoverished the better!), I openly attest to knowing nothing about music.
This is my safety net, by the way: it lets me like the Clash alongside that one song by Hilary Duff with next to no irony. So with all that in mind, I have new finds to share, and so begins my likely sole foray into music recommendations.
1. Mountains and Mouths.
Link: Bruce Peninsula.
First up is Bruce Peninsula, who I would describe as "Native American gospel music by way of Tom Waits.' I know, right? How can you NOT listen after that endorsement? Enjoy!
Bruce Peninsula, "Crabapples"
Go seek them out on their MySpace page.
You know how you sometimes read books about subjects that are completely outside your realm of experience, like Sudanese orphans or Russian despots? Just to see the world from another perspetive? That's why you listen to Bruce Peninsula. I have no idea where this mindscape comes from.
2. The gateway to Mecca is paved with bandwidth.
Link: 120 Minutes.
Sadly, I've never known what "alternative" music really was, because since a young age, all the other stuff in the other sections was alternative to me. It's gotten worse, with age, I'm afraid. The kids with their hippity hop and their beat boxing and their WIFI symphonic...! I fear the radio. And I'm barely a quarter century!
So imagine my glee when I found this archive. 120 Minutes originally aired on MTV from 1989 to roughly 2003, and was THE place to be for alternative music of the day. But then it got canceled. Its loving fans got together to compile this tribute, an itemized collection of every episode, from the featured guests to their playlists. Complete with videos! Interpol! Morcheeba! BLUR!Their playlists are unbelievable. Don't click on the link until you're ready to say, "Okay, Afternoon, I didn't really want to use you productively, anyway." What makes this site so glorious is that in one click, you can relive the glory of the days when music artists didn't substitute units of currency for the letter S. Is it too much to ask, radio? What the hell happened to picking up an instrument and playing a song?!?
Whoa.
Okay.
So bad news: I just became my father.
3. Adventures in tangent thinking!
Link: Beck has a YouTube channel.
Beck's The New Pollution. Let's sit down and give it its due. Because it's Beck, and he is always good. Now, let's be honest: I don't have a reason for posting this, other than the following itemized reasons.
a) I want to.
b) My brain looks like this video. Approximately. So basically, what I'm implying is that my thought process translates into a 60s dance collective with sinister overtones. I'm including the frontiersman with the ax (symbolic of my sense of shame) and the German industrial conga line of funk robots (standing in for my idea of love).
c) Someday, Beck and I will live in a deserted schoolhouse in the middle of a field, and we will invite the funk robots to every meal. He'll wear shirts adorned with curtain tassels and do impressive splits at odd times. I will fashion cowboy hats for him and remain alone in the new pollution. It will be a good life.
Have a suggestion for a future Ampersandology topic? Got something
you’d like to say? All feedback is welcome! Shoot us an email at ampersandology@gmail.com, or follow Ampersandology on Facebook.
No comments:
Post a Comment