I was at work today talking with a guy that I work with who's getting pretty close to 70. I don't know why he's still working, but I think he really enjoys what he does and he's good at it, so why not keep at it? Part of me thinks he should step aside and let someone else who deserves it have his spot, but I don't spend much time thinking about it. We actually have a lot to talk about because he still listens to a lot of Rock N' Roll, and I know pretty much all the bands he likes and he's still interested in new bands, to some extent. So it was a pretty pleasant morning at work.
One of the things we talked about was how scattered new music is today. He calls it all "Indie," because to him that's pretty much everything that isn't some old Classic Rocker putting out a "pretty good for a dude in his 70's" kind of album. I was trying to gauge what slightly more obscure things we might have in common and I mentioned Andy Pratt. I was kind of surprised that he said he'd never heard of him. He's the kind of guy that has plenty of solo Jon Lord things and oddball things like that, so I thought that he might have heard of Pratt, since he had an AOR kind of hit from this first self-titled album called Avenging Annie. He especially likes those keyboard and piano heavy things, so I figured there was no way he hadn't heard this record, but I might as well have asked him to name the song by The Clash that we heard at lunch after a crappy Foreigner tune he recognized (and rightfully called shit).
I think Avenging Annie is one of the first times that I found out that not everyone liked what I did. Or at least didn't fall in love with the songs I did. I think the last time I was surprised that I had it all wrong on the popularity of something was when I took a friend to see The Dirtbombs. I bought tickets ahead of time because they were playing a really small place. I thought it would sell out instantly, but there were less than 100 people there. So my friend not knowing about Andy Pratt just reminded me that when I talk about music I really need to pay attention to my audience, but like I said, I didn't think Pratt was that far underground. I probably bought this when I was fifteen or so, so I think I was probably okay to think that he might have heard something by a guy that almost charted a song.
Which led to a brief conversation about this record and then we talked about listening to records with other people. He agreed with me that people just seem to pretty much listen to music all by themselves these days. I think there's merits to that, in that a lot of younger people don't seem to give a shit what anyone else likes, because if they want to listen to Iron Maiden and Katy Perry in the same playlist, it doesn't bother anyone else, and it's more like reading a book. No one cares if you're reading Steinbeck or Nora Roberts. Because you're not bothering anyone anyway. But you also don't really get to meet people and get to share your knowledge with theirs. Sure, that can lead to some group thinking snobbery, but so what? That's the best kind of snobbery and group think. It's certainly better than starting a new war for some bullshit thinly veiled reason that's hiding the fact that the people starting the wars are getting rich while poor people's kids get killed.
Which is way off track. We were talking about how we'd get together with people specifically to sit and listen to some music. Maybe four people and everyone would bring a record. He used to have a thing you could plug four sets of headphones into, so if he was working nights his friends could hang in the apartment and not disturb the neighbors. If you've never done that, you have no idea what you missed out on. That was really pretty cool. We did it mostly in the school library, but I did that in a friend's house too. People didn't just stick one ear bud in their ear and share the other one with a friend. I mean, what the hell is that? Why bother? That's like I watch the first half of a show and you watch the second half and we say we watched it together. It's a lot of fun to hang with friends and just play a couple of records.
Andy Pratt wasn't the kind of thing I played with most of my friends because they had no idea who he was, but they would recognize Avenging Annie because if we were driving around I'd usually say, "Hey, cool song. Crank it." The rest of the record is a kind of oddball, sort of folky, sort of depressing kind of thing. But it's not like the guy's Gilbert O'Sullivan or anything like that. I think he may be a little too clever sometimes, and his falsetto can be a little dated these days, but at least Pratt is different. Who Am I Talking To is pretty catchy and not as depressing as Inside Me Wants Out, which is lyrically as messed up as you would expect. It's kind of a heart on the sleeve affair, and it's definitely a product of the 70's. It's the kind of record no one would make today, because there's no reason for ProTools or massive drums. I think maybe I think it's kind of like more highbrow Elton John. Or like maybe is Elton had used Frank Zappa as a producer.
Sittin' Down in the Twilight is what I'm thinking of there. Sounds like a big trombone blasting away and some funky piano and super high vocals. It's pretty cool. It's completely dated at this point and I don't know if someone new to the game could really appreciate it. Especially since that song is followed by a dirge about hunting a deer. Or getting married. It's about something. Probably how everything ties together. Lot's of acoustic guitar fingerpicking and deep, slow, "Oooh, ooooh, ooooh" backing vocals. Yawn. A really bad way to end a pretty good record.
Mine's in great shape. I hardly ever play it. Probably because the last song is such a drag. It sucks all the energy you were feeling right out of you! The record itself is nice and flat. I think I probably had my first Dual when I got this and it didn't get ruined by my junky BSR. Which, lets face it, if I had changed the stylus more often, the BSR would have just been a noisy turntable. Some things you just have to learn.
No comments:
Post a Comment