Ten Thousand Favorite Songs, v. 12

New Radiohead, A Moon Shaped Pool--you could scramble all the songs from their last 3 albums and A) I wouldn't especially like it B) be able to guess which album it's on and C) the song would 95% likely be better if Thom wasn't singing on it.  Dude has decided anything approaching a vocal melody is trite.  WHICH WOULD BE FINE (exhibit A. Julianna Barwick) IF  dude had a good voice but he shuuuuure as shit doesn't.

I think you can trace when their shit went real south to his solo album, which should have been ridiculed at the time.




-carried me through parts of 2015, especially the early mornings



--2 songs but they were released in 1 video first, so they're linked to each other now in my brain, even if non-consecutive on the album



--- oblivion



----be a body



-----Vanessa

Ten Thousand Favorite Songs, v. 11

-M83 manages to make nostalgic-au current- and future music, all while building natural excitement and extending empathy.  Strange brew.



--such a great career arc too, made music for the moody kids for years, now somehow realized how many people feel like outcasts, at least some of the time.  I always underestimated the value of big tent music.



---best French artist since Edith Piaf?



----weird analogue, but the only American band I can think of that manages to skew formula but cobble together dynamic, unpredictable songs that thrill



-----Adam Goldberg!

PS for playing along at home:



I came up with the idea of this when I realized Spotify caps you out at 10K songs in 1 playlist.  I wondered if I had 10,000 songs I'd always be happy to hear.  I'm not sure.  They don't have Neil Young or Prince, so that makes it a little dicey, but we'll see

Ten Thousand Favorite Songs, v. 10

Hale fellows well met, my Russian friends!  I am sorry to see that so many of you still have to use Internet Explorer--I believe Microsoft has discontinued supporting it here in the U.S. and many websites do not look very good on IE.  I hope this is getting to you alright.  I strive to be your #1 source for silly opinions.



-It took all the coke in town/to bring down Dennis Brown



--When we're driving around and the Cranberries pop up on Sirius, it is a guaranteed goofy sing-along.



---This song temporarily made me insane and spend 800 bucks on a Martin Dreadnought I had no idea how to play



----I heard this song and tried to John-the-Baptist for old Bonnie Bear but no one was buying it back then.



-----same as above.  I guess I had blown any credibility when I played the Hold Steady at a party.  Music about parties doesn't extend by necessity into parties.

ps
Julianna Barwick makes novenas of grace:

Ten Thousand Favorite Songs, v. 9 and Hello Russia!

Most of our views come from our friends in Russia--hope you all are doing great there!  Possibly my favorite poem of all time is by Russian poet Yevgeny Yevtushenko

Weddings

Weddings in days of war,

false cheating comfort,

those hollow phrases:

'He won’t get killed...'

On a snowbound winter road,

slashed by a cruel wind,

I speed to a hasty wedding

in a neighboring village.

Gingerly I enter

a buzzing cottage,

I, a folk dancer of repute,

with a forelock dangling

from my forehead.

All spruced up, disturbed,

among relatives and friends

the bridegroom sits, just mobilized,

distraught.

Sits with Vera-his bride-

but in a day or two

he’ll pull on a gray soldier’s coat

and, wearing it, leave for the front.

Then with a rifle he will go,

tramping over alien soil;

a German bullet, perhaps,

will lay him low...

A glass of foaming home brew

he’s not able yet to drink.

Their first night together

will likely be their last.

Chagrined, the bridegroom stares,

and with all his soul in anguish

cries to me across the table:

'Well, go on, why don’t you dance! '

They all forget their drinking,

all fix me with goggling eyes,

and I slide and writhe,

beating a rhythm with my hooves.

Now I drum a tattoo,

now drag my toes

across the floor.

Whistling shrilly,

I clap my hands,

leap up near the ceiling.

Slogans on the wall fly past,

'Hitler will be kaput! '

But the bride

scalds

her face

with tears.

I’m already a wet rag,

barely catch my breath...

'Dance! '-

they shout in desperation,

and I dance again...

Back home, my ankles

feel as stiff as wood;

but from yet another wedding

drunken guests

come knocking at the door once more.

Soon as mother lets me go,

I’m off to weddings once again,

and round the tablecloth anew

I stamp my feet and bend my knees.

The bride sheds bitter tears,

friends are tearful too.

I’m afraid for everyone.

I’ve no desire to dance,

but you can’t not dance.

1955

Translated by George Reavey (revised)










  

Ten Thousand Favorite Songs, v. 8