The Police – Synchronicity

Depeche Mode – Black Celebration

Translator – Translator

Pet Shop Boys – Please

Comsat Angels – Seven Day Weekend

Wild Swans – Bringing Home The Ashes

At that early stage I already had an affinity for British music.  I just felt that the music coming out there was more adventurous, more subversive. And it was further strengthened when I finally rediscovered The Beatles in my own terms (and not within the paradigm of my parents and their friends).

My friend and I both love music and we had an enjoyable conversation about the new bands and artists we’ve discovered. We were having so much fun giving each other recommendations. Eventually, we began to discuss how we’ve been supporting our “hobby.” I was surprised to find out that he doesn’t buy CDs anymore. He has, instead, began to use torrents to “acquire” the music he listens to.

the issue of music downloads is a very sensitive topic that polarizes people. My take on music downloads is simple — I support it. I admit to downloading music. I just don’t have the money to buy all of the albums that I want to listen to. Besides, downloading music has one great benefit for me — it allows me to listen to an artist that I would otherwise would not have been able to because of a limited budget.

But this doesn’t mean that I download all of the music in my collection. In fact, I buy more CDs now compared to a few years ago. I still believe in supporting artists that I love and those that have come out with significant releases — and I show that support by buying their work. For me, downloads are just a way of testing the waters, so to speak. The moment I hear an album that I love I immediately put it in my must-buy list and save up so that I can buy it in the future. I think that purely downloading music is lame and a big disservice to the artists who produce amazing work.

In between feedings, nebulization schedules and cleaning Alex up, I would talk to her and soothe her with songs. There are three songs that Alex loves. The Carpenters’ Sing is a staple at home. It’s the same song that I sang to my son Zach when he was still a baby. The lyrics and melody is very simple and soothing that my children fell in love with it the moment they heard it.

The second song in my admittedly short repertoire is Black Bird by The Beatles. I’ve mentioned time and time again in this blog how big a fan I am of The Fab Four. It’s a love that I want to impart to my children and I do it by singing my favorite Beatles song to them when I try to make them sleep. I think I’m already succeeding. Zach constantly cites The Beatles as his favorite band and if you ask him his favorite Beatles song, he has a ready answer – Here Comes The Sun. I’m pretty sure Alex will fall in love with The Beatles too.

The third song I sing is one that I only began singing when Alex arrived. It’s Panda Bear from Kimya Dawson’s wonderful album Alpha-Butt. Kimya has an uncanny ability to create absolutely catchy melodies and unforgettable lyrics. There’s an almost child-like whimsy to her songs that makes them perfect for singing with your children. Panda Bear is a particular fave of mine because I do call Alex Panda Bear. It’s a happy coincidence that Kimya wrote a song about it (actually it’s a song about her daughter, whose name is Panda).

What about you guys? What’s your setlist for your children?

There’s something about LPs that make music more concrete, more in-your-face. It makes me feel closer to the artists more than a cassette or a CD does. I really can’t pinpoint why LPs  make me feel more strongly about music. I guess I can name a number of factors. First, the analog source is so much warmer that it sounds organic. It doesn’t sound clinical like what you’d hear from CDs. And the pop, hiss and crackle gives it that added character that you won’t find anywhere else. The preparation that you need to do before you play a record could also be a big contributor. Records need to be loved and pampered. You have to carefully remove it from its sleeve, give it a good buff to remove any dirt and then lovingly place it on the turntable. It’s a ritual that is now but gone in the digital age. And the oversized artwork helps too. It’s a visual cue of what you will experience sonically.

I think that’s the reason why LPs, like good music, will never die.

But if there’s one thing that I also fervently wish for 2010 is the death of emo.

Emo “music” is one of silliest subgenres I’ve encountered in my decades-long obsession with music. What really is emo? How could whining lyrics sang by singers who sing through their noses be considered a subgenre? Emo is useless and an obvious commercial tag just to entice kids to buy (or download) music and get into a “lifestyle” that’s as poseur as it gets.

I’m not saying emo is the only useless genre of its kind. I felt the same way when “nu metal” was the in-thing, or when “new wave” or “grunge” were popular subgenres. But these examples actually had something going for it. Nu metal was an introduction (albeit contrived) to the melding of rap and metal to the general public. New Wave produced so many awesome bands that I won’t even mention it, and grunge brought a paradigm shift that destroyed the so-called formula for what is “commercial” and “popular.” Emo doesn’t offer any of these things. It’s a handy label plastered on the pop punk/hard rock genre that just so happened to have “woe is me” lyrics, whilst cribbing the getup of goths. What these emo fans don’t know is that every genre or artist have their own depressed and introspective icons. Being depressed or singing about teen angst is not a music genre, it’s a state of mind.  If we’ll follow how the emo junkies define their music then Country music should be considered emo too.

Johnny Cash as an emo icon… well, at least it’s imaginative.

If there’s one band that clearly defines and describes how much I love music, it has to be the Fab Four. Their music is indelibly imprinted on me not just as a music lover but as a person. My inevitable downward spiral towards music obsession mirrors how I slowly got into their music as well. I can still vividly remember my mom listening to their “teenybopper” phase songs every Sunday when she tunes in to this old radio show that played music from the Sixties. I yeah-yeah’ed to “She Loves You” decades before I fell in love with Karen O. In highschool, the esoterica that The White Album represented was presented to me by that other BAND — U2.  Helter Skelter was a song that made fully realize that The Beatles was not just making music, they were making a template, a font of imagination and creativity from which other artists will drink from in the future. In college, I got introduced to Revolver by a good friend, who I may or may not have loved — very Beatle-esque if I may say so myself. Now that I’m a father, my son and daughter are being fed a constant diet of Black Bird, Julia and Here, There and Everywhere (my favorite lullabye songs).

Through the years, The Beatles have been a constant in my life. They are the band that I never get tired of listening to. Their work remains fresh to this day. I always discover something new in their music and I always hear their influence in whatever form of music I hear.

But here’s a big secret. Up to now, I only own three of their albums — The White Album, Revolver and Rubber Soul. Personally, I think these are the pillars of their life’s work. As a music collector though, I couldn’t bring myself to buy a CD because of the relatively poor way the albums were put on disc. It just doesn’t give their music justice. That’s why I am very stoked about September. Finally, we’ll get to buy The Beatles’ catalogue in its remastered state. All of the stumbling blocks have been passed. The albums are finally here.

And the little boy who yeah-yeah’ed is grinning in anticipation.