Look, sometimes things just click, and sometimes they don't. For me, Frank Zappa hit like a shaman in a boudoir back when I was just turning 16 in the mid-90s, spinning those fresh Ryko CDs. If you want the most blunt breakdown of his whole approach, you have to look to that love-him-hate-him Italian-American software analyst turned mathematician—pardon me, writer and critic. Nomina sunt odiosa, obviously.
Sorry, everyone. I've been slammed for the last two weeks, so getting back to relaxing with some music is finally back on the agenda this weekend. Because of that, I'm revisiting a Zappin experimental rock classic that I used to spin on my turntable constantly about 15-20 years ago (pro tip: stick to the original "dry" vinyl mix for the best experience):
"Out there, far out in the Sea, sits a rocky island, with a smaller second one nearby. They exist at the very edge of the inhabited world. On one island for centuries a few forgotten people have lived, and because they live on the edge of the inhabited world, news hasn't reached them yet that the Earth is round. To them, the belief remains that the earth is flat and the ocean ends in a yawning abyss.
I see a Man on a Cliff of the Rock. For years he stands alone, staring across the sea, day by day, always in the same Place. He is the first to doubt.
Then, after Years, three more men join him. Many years they stare together from the cliff out at the Sea. And then, one day, they decide to find out what lies at the end. They wanted to go to the edge of the world and see if that abyss actually exists.
Listening to šum in this dim twilight, and I’m reminded of a genuine gem—one of those bands that drifted through the post-rock scene back when I was in my twenties. I feel lucky I caught them live. I can't recommend their discography enough. It still feels intimate, even seventeen years later. Rachel's :
March 2003, IEEE. I missed out—a messy mix of circumstances and, frankly, my own questionable reasoning. If anyone here actually attended and happens to be reading this thread right now, please, leave some impressions behind. Since we’re approaching the 17th anniversary:
Back in the fall of '97, I managed to snag one of the earliest Spoon CDs for next to nothing—a Limited Edition release. So, marking both the 23rd and the 47th anniversaries:
Just wrapped up the 64-minute CD edition of F#A#∞. It’s a solid listen. Honestly, the shorter vinyl version doesn't hold up nearly as well here. In my book, it beats the first three sides of LYSFLATH, though that fourth side—specifically ...Antennas...—is easily the highlight. There's far less reliance on those cliché crescendos, and the dynamic range feels much more intentional.
Jason Mendoza said:post rock (...)
At their peak, I still prefer Tortoise and Cul de Sac over GYBE. Even if Pelt remains my favorite among bands that dabble in North American post-rock, they barely even touch the realm of actual rock music. Mind you, I haven't listened to anything from these guys since 2003, so take this as a rough estimate.
I have to admit, I’m much more interested in hearing your take on... 14 on the Reggae Billboard Chart. I'm ready. Send over the text. On the Corner.
So, about these expanded CD versions... I’ve been spinning the 38-minute vinyl cut of F (upside down) A (upside down) (infinity), and honestly, it’s exactly the right length. Now, WikiWiki claims the CD version clocks in at 64 minutes. Is that actually the definitive edition, or did they just tack on a few extra crescendos or some other filler?
There’s this Japanese band—no hype, no screaming fans—but they absolutely crushed an album released the same year as the vinyl version of Unknown.
Of course it's Fela, specifically Roforofo Fight. Now that I've seen this week's lineup, the other two are Upsetters 14 Dub Black board Jungle and On The Corner.
A few quick thoughts before I finally take the plunge and dive into Foxxa:
I’ve spent the last couple of days revisiting three incredible "black" albums from the early seventies, which leaves me wondering what should be next on the list: Afrobeat, dub reggae, or maybe some New York Jazz?
Or, I could suggest an absolutely stellar recent live album featuring one phenomenal vocalist—something I find myself returning to constantly, even if it is definitely an "acquired taste."
Two emotions—though some might argue they aren't really distinct at all. Lakshminarayan Shankar absolutely tears it up on a custom double violin of his own design.
Since you guys are clearly obsessed with Swans, it’s high time for another little micro-anecdote from back in the day...
Between '95 and '00, I went through a massive amount of CDs and vinyl—honestly, I doubt we'll ever see that kind of ratio of selection, affordability, and quality again. Back in early '98, a very serious listener lent me a whole stack: CoG, TWoS, WLftMoI, LoL, O, and TGA, all original CD pressings. I still remember what he muttered during a conversation later on: 'The Burning World? Garbage!'
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