Week day, weak day.
So lately I've been branching down paths of recollection, looking back at the circumstances of which I am exposed to different musical acts. I find it both fascinating and enlightening to examine these circumstances, as I feel it gives greater context and understanding to why I love the things I do. For example, I've written about the influence older siblings have, the impact a friend's insight can have and how solitary exposure can be beneficial. Today's post, along these lines, is one of curiosity and surprise.
After college I was living in an apartment in Uptown, the gentrifying land of hipsters, fixies and condos. My better half had a place just two blocks away, much nicer than my own. While I had access to the internet, I had no cable, while she had both. Being in possession of a steady stream of shows, a much nicer TV, a much cleaner apartment and just in general being the better half, we ended up spending much more time at her place than mine. One Friday night while preparing for an evening out with friends, I was paging through the content on her cable box's On Demand programming. As is often the case, I was relaxing while she prepped and primped. Neither of us content to simply have the TV drone on in the background as white noise and both being tired of our usual iTunes playlists, I asked if she minded me playing some music videos that were available. Having missed the heady days of MTV and the actual music videos they showed in my childhood, I hoped for some hip content to bring back that feeling of engaging new culture via the format. There was, unfortunately, a great deal of mediocrity - bands I won't shame here for their unwitting involvement in corporate synergy. Not all of them were bad though. Indeed, there were old Beastie Boy videos, in particular the excellent 'So Whatcha Want' that has the trio hopping around in the woods while rocking the requisite mid-90s flannel and knit hats. As I flipped through the titles I noticed a name that rang a bell far back in my mind. I knew the name of the band but couldn't remember what was special about them. So out of curiosity I pressed play. Instead of a video I was watching a seven minute short film, titled 'From Yesterday'. Half a minute in, I remembered.
30 Seconds To Mars. Fronted by Jared Leto, the band had built a buzz separate from the famous frontman, who had acted in roles such as the teenage heartthrob Jordan Catalano in 'My So Called Life' and the beaten-to-a-pulp Angelface in 'Fight Club'. While their first album had been under the radar, this outing, 'A Beautiful Lie', went on to sell well over a million copies worldwide. So how had I missed the boat? I have no idea. I loved what I heard and saw in the clip, though. The song was a mix between measured, restrained verses peppered with plucked guitars and almost whispered, strained vocals and anthemic choruses and ringing, wailing chords. Basically a knockout. The film was interesting as well, a nice departure from the manic and relentless fast cuts that are typical of the modern era. Instead we have long, epic shots in Chinese courtyards, the video apparently being one of the first ever filmed in China. The narrative is forgivably loose, given the medium, but the way it plays off the mood and tone of the song counter this lack of clarity. I was hooked. From in front of the mirror in the other room I heard my better half call out "What was that?" I explained. "Hmm. They're good. Play it again," was the response I got. So I did. She was right, it's a fantastic song.
The next morning I downloaded the entire album on iTunes and listened with rapt attention. What I got wasn't perfect but I accepted it, flaws and all. That being said, the album itself is very good, but as a whole the singles really do stand out as shining moments. It's almost as if the creative mojo was concentrated or condensed for the singles, robbing some of the other tracks of energy or vibrancy. 'Attack' is a phenomenal, propulsive affair that evolves from a wrap-around synth line that ties it all together. It's catchy and energetic, building to a powerful refrain. 'The Kill' features a set of dynamics similar to 'From Yesterday', all quiet and brooding in the verse and breaking open in the chorus. To further the similarity the video for the song is another grand undertaking, seeing the band do an extended retelling of The Shining from their perspectives. It's a great video, definitely worth a look.
So why was I so into the album if it felt so uneven? I think it again is centrally tied to the circumstances of discovery. I had heard of the band but had never dug into their catalog. Stumbling upon them at that point in their career was like stumbling into an Oscar winning movie about twenty minutes in - you stay for the rest of it but want immediately to start it up from the beginning, wishing the whole time that your experience had been one chronological progression. The surprise and spontaneity of being exposed to the music made an impression on me. Here was a band selling millions of albums, doing worldwide tours and yet I was the only person I knew who was into them. How could that be? I had trouble reconciling the notion, yet simultaneously took great pleasure in my personal, hidden treasure. If, for some reason, you haven't checked them out before, do so now.
So lately I've been branching down paths of recollection, looking back at the circumstances of which I am exposed to different musical acts. I find it both fascinating and enlightening to examine these circumstances, as I feel it gives greater context and understanding to why I love the things I do. For example, I've written about the influence older siblings have, the impact a friend's insight can have and how solitary exposure can be beneficial. Today's post, along these lines, is one of curiosity and surprise.
After college I was living in an apartment in Uptown, the gentrifying land of hipsters, fixies and condos. My better half had a place just two blocks away, much nicer than my own. While I had access to the internet, I had no cable, while she had both. Being in possession of a steady stream of shows, a much nicer TV, a much cleaner apartment and just in general being the better half, we ended up spending much more time at her place than mine. One Friday night while preparing for an evening out with friends, I was paging through the content on her cable box's On Demand programming. As is often the case, I was relaxing while she prepped and primped. Neither of us content to simply have the TV drone on in the background as white noise and both being tired of our usual iTunes playlists, I asked if she minded me playing some music videos that were available. Having missed the heady days of MTV and the actual music videos they showed in my childhood, I hoped for some hip content to bring back that feeling of engaging new culture via the format. There was, unfortunately, a great deal of mediocrity - bands I won't shame here for their unwitting involvement in corporate synergy. Not all of them were bad though. Indeed, there were old Beastie Boy videos, in particular the excellent 'So Whatcha Want' that has the trio hopping around in the woods while rocking the requisite mid-90s flannel and knit hats. As I flipped through the titles I noticed a name that rang a bell far back in my mind. I knew the name of the band but couldn't remember what was special about them. So out of curiosity I pressed play. Instead of a video I was watching a seven minute short film, titled 'From Yesterday'. Half a minute in, I remembered.
