This is one of those albums where I went in not knowing a single track from it, and it ended up being one of my favorite albums of the year. I’d read the positive reviews in the British music papers, and had heard this would get a slightly abridged stateside release (a mix of tracks from the UK version plus the handful of popular songs from their previous record Disgraceful from 1995). The week this showed up as a promo at my store, I snagged it and gave it a spin.
You all know that I do love me some music that invokes a sort of autumnal vibe. Songs that make me feel like I’m driving around woodsy New England on a slightly cloudy Sunday afternoon, taking in the reds and oranges of fall foliage before the day is over and I have to head back home and return to work the next day. I know, it’s kind of specific, but you get what I’m trying to say here. A sort of end-of-day melancholy.
And the leadoff single “Stars” did that with its sweeping and sighing synth chords and unobtrusive electronic drums. It’s their signature song (it was originally on Disgraceful), but it’s such a gorgeous and moody song that I stopped in place and had to play it again just to relive that moment. I was already hooked. I also realized they weren’t a band that would get a lot of play on WFNX (they were leaning more towards harder and louder alt-rock at that point), but an AOR station like The River definitely would, and did.
The album isn’t all just moods, however, it also ventures into some really fun territory like the British Northern Soul sound of “Inside” and the bouncy “Cathedral Park”…
…or the Cocteau Twins-y “Just a Girl She Said”, or the Pet Shop Boys-y “The View from Here”. They even do a lovely cover of Billy Bragg’s “St Swithin’s Day”, giving the formerly all-acoustic original a full-band sound. It was kind of hard to pin them down style-wise, but that was part of what drew me to them, because while the styles changed, the mood I’d been drawn to remained. It all felt so autumnal to me, which worked perfectly considering it had been released at the end of September of 1997.
They were in that 1996-98 sweet spot of alternative that was distinctively British with a female lead and a synth-driven atmosphere (see: Hooverphonic, Mono, Sneaker Pimps, Lamb) that might not have been huge in the States but definitely had its own fanbase here.
This album came out while I was already a number of chapters in on writing The Phoenix Effect, and because of its sound and vibe it was a perfect candidate for a writing soundtrack. Over the next several years I’d give it a spin while working in the Belfry, and to this day I’ll still break it out now and again just to enjoy what a wonderful and light album it is.
I was introduced to Global Communication in a very roundabout way. While I’m sure I saw the above record in the bins at the HMV I worked at, I never gave it a chance, at least not until late 1997 when I heard a deeply haunting track by Pulusha called “Isolation, Part 1”, found on the not-quite-holiday album Invocation that had intrigued me when it came out in October of 1997. After a bit of reading, I found out that Pulusha was a one-off project featuring Kirsty Hawkshaw — who I knew from Opus III in the early 90s — and Mark Pritchard, who was one half of Global Communication. This album had dropped in July of 1994, but had been so well-regarded that we continually stocked it in our electronic music section three years later.
I’ve listened to and loved all kinds of ambient music over the years — the experimental soundscapes of Brian Eno, the laid back cool of Orbital, the deep echoes of the early years of 4AD — but I’d never heard anything like this before. There are no real titles for the tracks; they are all known by their playing length instead, to avoid influencing what the listener might feel or imagine upon hearing it for the first time.
What caught my attention was the grandfather clock and the gentle rain of the second track, “14:31”.
You of course know that music was a huge influence on my early writing. Inspired by Miami Vice, I took music I loved and wrapped story ideas around them, and the Infamous War Novel was the first longform story I wrote that took those songs and shaped a full storyline around it. But I’d grown out of that style by the early 90s. Music was still there, though playing just a minor ‘soundtrack’ part instead. And a lot of what I was listening to at the time didn’t always fit with what I was writing, so I grew out of that style.
That is, until I listened to the above track in headphones one evening, and my imagination suddenly found itself in a dusty old mansion, sitting in a semi-dark study with cold wood panels, the only light coming from outside the one bay window, partially framed by the canopy of leaves outside, the sky a dirty light gray and the grass of the lawn a deep rich green, matching the dark trees outside. The room was a mix of forgotten papers and books, smelling of must and petrichor.
I don’t think I’d ever had that vivid of a mental image from a song in years.
This was right about the time I started working on The Phoenix Effect as well. This album immediately became part of its soundtrack, played whenever I worked on the more spiritual components of the story. I needed to be in that kind of mental space, that kind of ambient atmosphere, because that’s what it sounded like in my head. Otherworldly, spatial, the sound of moments you never notice until they sneak up on you. A soundtrack that could create not just the mental image of a forgotten part of a house deep in the country, but the loneliness of a spaceship far away from home.
These are but two tracks off a ten-track album that take you on an aural trip without actually telling you where you’re going. It leaves the destination — or just the trip itself — entirely up to your imagination.
In honor of Beck’s upcoming new record Ride Lonesome which comes out this Friday, I thought I’d do a quick revisit of my favorite album of his, 2002’s Sea Change. It’s aptly named; after the quirky Odelay, the meandering Mutations, and the funky Midnite Vultures, he goes through a bitter breakup, completely changes direction, and comes out with a deeply personal and contemplative record that defies anything he’s done before. It’s my top favorite of all his albums and the one I return to the most. I’ve mentioned several times that it’s also tagged as a Mendaihu Universe Legacy Soundtrack, having been played constantly during the writing of the Bridgetown Trilogy.
He made several music videos for this album even though there were no official singles, and they complement the album’s themes of emotional loss and eventual healing.
He pulls no punches right from the start: the opener “The Golden Age” sets the stage as a night-time drive, perhaps a long dark night of the soul: Put your hands on the wheel, let the golden age begin / The window down, feel the moonlight on your skin / Desert wind cool your aching head / The weight of the world drift away instead. There’s a lot to work through, and it’s not going to be easy.
That pain continues through “Paper Tiger”, a string-laden piece (conducted by his father David Campbell) that feels very much like an old blues track. Here we start hearing more nuances in the album’s production (the always amazing Nigel Godrich), with phased vocals and the use of that slow-build style I love so much.
Eventually he comes around — sort of — with the somber “Guess I’m Doing Fine”, which is obviously not the case but at least he’s trying to find a way through it all. The video has him walking around various parts of Los Angeles, including several scenes in Echo Park, with a ghostly acoustic guitar following his every move. Eventually he befriends a local and they start talking about life. Their conversation is unknown, but the setup underscores the whole point of the song: the only way to get better is to work towards it.
It’s a tough road ahead, working through the anger of “Lonesome Tears” and the self-effacing “Lost Cause” until we hit the exhaustion of “End of the Day”. It all starts building up until it finally spills out with the adversarial “It’s All in Your Mind”, which, interestingly, was originally a lo-fi single released years before (just before Odelay), but it fits in well here.
It’s followed up by the somber and mercurial “Round the Bend” — he’s finally accepted this grief, and starts the healing. It’s followed by “Already Dead’, in which he faces everything that’s left and gone away. What’s left is what needs working on: “Sunday Sun” focuses on acceptance and moving on.
In its own way, the penultimate track “Little One” underscores that acceptance, that what is done is done and you can’t get it back. But like the video, it also focuses on what’s only seen in dreams and hopes: a clearer future of healing. A waking up from the nightmare, exhausted and feeling out of place, yet seeing a clearer path ahead. The album closes with the quiet yet uplifting “Side of the Road”, a reminder of what we’ve gone through and what we might encounter next.
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Interestingly, I passed on picking this album up for a few months when it dropped back in September of 2002, as I hadn’t been the biggest fan of Midnite Vultures and hadn’t really heard anything from this one. It wasn’t until I happened to hear a few songs during one of my frequent stops at the Newbury Comics in downtown Amherst that it finally clicked, and I was immediately sold. By year’s end I was playing it constantly during my writing sessions. It was a perfect soundtrack that aurally fit the moods and setting of the more somber sequences of the trilogy.
Twelve years and several albums later, Beck revisited this quieter style with the equally brilliant Morning Phase in February of 2014. And his newest, Ride Lonesome, has been described as the third in this series. While Beck has already been seen as a master in writing catchy yet offbeat (and often bizarre) alternative pop singles with quirky lyrics and creative production, with these albums he proves that he can also write deeply personal and heartfelt ballads that work themselves deep into your psyche.
While I’m on the subjects of the HMV years, writing The Phoenix Effect and favorite albums from 1998, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention another album that even more play in the back room of the store and especially during my writing sessions.
Most of you already know their popular hit “Counting Blue Cars” from 1995’s Pet Your Friends album, which got considerable play on radio and MTV at the start of 1996. It still gets play now and again (and shows up on the music loop at my day job), sadly they were treated as a one hit wonder soon after.
Which is too bad, because their sophomore record, And You Think You Know What Life’s About, finds the band with an edge and looking to expand their sound. As a member comments in the promo video found on the CD itself, after playing on the road for several months, they found themselves playing harder and stronger, spilling even more of their emotions and strength into their instruments than before, and it shows on this album. They holed up in the hills of Santa Barbara and came out with one hell of a great record that sadly got too easily dismissed by jaded critics expecting another “Blue Cars”. And to add insult to injury, the UNI/PolyGram merger that year pretty much dried up any promotion or support they’d had before.
Right off the bat it kicks off with “Stay Awake”, bashing drums and chunky noisy guitars, slapping you in the face to get your attention. This isn’t going to be your typical mid-90s radio-friendly alt rock album. Even the second track “Once in a While” might start off as a quiet ballad, but soon changes tack and turns up the volume. And third track “Bottom of the Floor” slides further into that harsher realm of discomfort and displacement, which seems to be the theme of this record. (This track is also where the album title comes from.)
We’re given a reprieve on the fifth track, the absolutely gorgeous “Until I Wake Up.” Originally released in demo form as a b-side to the “Counting Blue Cars” single, this is singer JR Richards revealing his deepest fears and weaknesses: the inability to control your life to the point where the dream world seems to be the only escape. It’s one of his most famous songs as a songwriter and he’s performed it and rerecorded it several times over the years in his solo career. I remember hearing this one and thinking this would be an absolutely perfect fit for the Mendaihu Universe, and so it sits nicely on the Songs from the Eden Cycle Vol 4 mixtape.
“5 Star Day” brings us back into the fold like a wake-up call, maybe one that’s needed but unwanted, reaching out in hope that the new day will be much better than the previous one. Maybe not, as it’s soon followed by the sinister “Truth Serum” bringing you back to the harsh reality that you were hoping to escape.
“So Blind” takes us off on a trip we might not want to go on, but we’re already strapped in and off on yet another adventure…very much like the never-ending exhaustion of touring as a band. You’re hoping for some kind of stability and tranquility, but you’re probably not going to find it here. And it takes you through to the brittle mind of “Gone Upside Down” and the psychedelic otherworld of “So Much Time.” It’s a trip that you don’t so much go on as you’re taken on whether you want it or not. And eventually you resurface drained yet somehow invigorated again with “The Bridge Song.”
And to end the album, you’re reminded: you’re the pop-star here, you’re performing for us, so make it happen! Ending the record with the hard-edged and snarky “Pop Guru” is an interesting choice, considering it not only riffs on the Beatles’ 1967 interest in the Maharishi, but uses it as a metaphor for reminding you of your place as a touring musician.
For an album that got little promotion yet had a few tracks used on the hit TV show Charmed, it’s a surprisingly strong and consistent record from start to finish. [They would have other songs featured on TV shows and movies, and singer JR Richards would perform a version of ‘Counting Blue Cars’ himself on an episode of How I Met Your Mother.] “Once in a While” and “Stay Awake” might have gotten some minor play on radio, but there were no music videos, official singles or any other promotion given.
And yet somehow it remains a major favorite of the band’s fans because of that. It’s an underdog record that’s harder than Pet Your Friends and less commercial than 2002’s comeback Opaline (which did in fact get sizeable promotional help). It’s a quirky record that’s more like a deep cut than a hit single, and that’s partly why I love it so much.
Some years back ordered another copy of it from JR Richards himself (signed, of course) and let him know how much the album meant to me, especially during my years writing The Phoenix Effect and its eventual remake as the Bridgetown Trilogy. He was touched by that and appreciated that he’d helped inspire someone in that way. And indeed, it got a ton of play during those basement writing sessions in the late 90s and early 00s (and yes, also during the mid-10s revisions and self-release of the books). It’s the one of theirs I return to the most as well.
I’d been a passing fan of this Belgian trio because of their excellent 1996 trip-hoppy single “2Wicky” (which would show up on multiple soundtracks like Stealing Beauty and I Know What You Did Last Summer), and their debut A New Stereophonic Sound Spectacular had done relatively well with the clubs and critics. I even listened to it once or twice while working in the back rooms of the record store.
But it was their 1998 sophomore release, Blue Wonder Power Milk, that really caught my attention. It was their first with singer Geike Arnaert, who would stay with them for the next several albums, and it also signaled a change in musical style. The melodies were more complex, the sounds more experimental and adventurous.
The opener “Battersea” is upbeat and bouncy, surging with tension yet purposely never quite peaking or releasing. It breaks down slightly several times, and yet it fits perfectly with lyrics about the need to escape your surroundings. It slides next to “One Way Ride”, a horn-laden mood piece continuing that theme.
It trips suddenly to “Dictionary”, the first track featuring guitarist Alex Callier on vocals. It’s a bit of an odd song lyrically but it’s all about the mood here: darker, grittier, sexier. This was the song that initially caught my attention when I heard the album for the first time, since it sticks out so much yet still fits in perfectly. We’ve escaped our surroundings but now we’re in the big city at night where secrets lie.
The first single, “Club Montepulciano” did really well for them in their native country, and it did get some play here in the States here and there. It’s a side quest into the clubbing world, wining and dining and allowing yourself to have fun. But then…
“Eden”, the third single from the album, is a masterpiece in evoking trip-hop yet still exuding warmth and emotion. A classic “if only…” song of heartbreak, it was later covered by none other than Sarah Brightman later that year. This song completely sold me on the album.
The album then slides into a few mood pieces like the grooving “Lung” and the quiet lullaby “Electro Shock Faders” until we hit what would be one of the best songs Ray Davies ever wrote that The Kinks never released: “This Strange Effect”. It’s the opposite of “Eden”: flirty and fun yet still mysterious.
That’s immediately followed by the track “Renaissance Affair” which was never released as a single but was used for a car commercial in the States sometime later, leading the song to show up again as an extra track on their next album, 2000’s The Magnificent Tree. It’s one of their most popular tracks that gets used in various places. It’s a lovely circular melody that matches its theme of constant movement.
The album winds down with a few deep cuts: the staccato strings of “Tuna” and the sunrise quiet of “Magenta”, and finally capped by the oddball hidden track “Blue Wonder Power Milk”.
This album came out in early May 1998 when I was about halfway through writing the longhand version of The Phoenix Effect, so as you can well imagine, it soon received heavy rotation status down in the basement of my parents’ house when I was transcribing and revising it on my computer at night. It was a perfect soundtrack for me to listen to during my writing sessions: it set the moods I was aiming for, but wasn’t intrusive or distracting to make me lose my place. I would come back to it several times over the years, both when I worked on the trilogy in the early 00s and again in the mid 10s when I prepped them for self-publishing.
It also got a lot of play at work as well, especially on those days when I had a lot to do back there. My work station was pretty much my own personal corner then, well established and surrounded by everything I needed to get those products out onto the floor quickly and easily. And right next to the desk on top of a few big plastic crates was my cassette/cd player that I’d set up almost from Day One. After a while, I’d spend my lunch time back there, sneaking in a little more writing while listening to a new release or a current favorite. Blue Wonder Power Milk got so much play back there that summer and into autumn that I’m pretty sure it ended up in the top five of my favorite albums of the year.
And yes, they are on the “I will buy anything from this band without even hearing it first” list of favorite bands! They’re still around coming out with great albums and wonderful live shows. I highly recommend them.
This is a super short one, mainly because in my music library, the rest of the year is filled with singles, box sets, and best-of collections. I suppose in a way that’s a reprieve from my ingesting far too many new releases over the last several months, and it also gave our store a much-needed boost in Q4 sales. I’d like to think we did pretty good that year, considering the music business was about to get hit with a major shake-up in 1998 when the two major distributors PolyGram and Universal decided to merge. A lot of great bands suddenly found themselves without a label (or without any label support); some got dropped and went indie, but several broke up.
On a personal note, however, I think I was doing pretty good at the time. I was further out of debt, I had insurance coverage for the first time in three years, and my writing career was finally off and running. And I made it a point to get outside more often, even if it was just to get in the car and drive somewhere. I’d been stuck at home for too long, and this was my version of personal freedom. And I think that helped not just my mind and spirit but also my creativity, considering my writing definitely improved over the next several months.
The Cure, Galore: The Singles 1987-1997, released 3 November 1997. This could be seen as Standing On a Beach Part 2, I suppose, considering it was another singles-to-date collection. [Alas, the cassette version did not contain any b-sides like Beach did.] It also contains a brand new song, “Wrong Number” which would have fit nicely on Wild Mood Swings. I didn’t listen to this one too much at the time, but it grew on my over the next few years.
Spice Girls, SpiceWorld, released 3 November 1997. The second (and last with the original five-woman lineup) sold pretty well considering the critics were expecting diminishing returns, so frequent with pre-fab pop stars. This one’s interesting in that it’s less stylish and slick and more adventurous and even maybe a bit silly in places, but it’s good fun. “Spice Up Your Life” was a cacophonous mess but a catchy single. It also tied in nicely with their movie of the same name, which I went to see that winter at the newly-built theater at the mall. The movie is actually quite fun and funny and a well-crafted pastiche of A Hard Day’s Night, which I appreciated.
Mixtape, Songs from the Eden Cycle Vol 3, created early November 1997. I think this is the most spiritual of the first four volumes of this series, partly because there are a few tracks from the Invocation collection on here, but mostly because I was looking for music that evoked a more surreal and otherworldly sense of place. That was me experimenting with what Trisanda, the spiritual homeworld of my characters, would look and feel like.
Jonatha Brooke, 10¢ Wings, released 4 November 1997. I was already familiar with Brooke’s work with the folk duo The Story, but this was her first foray into a more alt-rock singer-songwriter spot similar to many other women musicians getting a lot of airplay at the time. I’d hear “Crumbs” on The River a lot and I really liked that track, so much that it’s one of my favorites of the year. It’s a really great album worth checking out.
Black Grape, Stupid Stupid Stupid, released 24 November 1997. Shaun Ryder’s second album with BG wasn’t as baggy-oriented as the first one, which didn’t help much with the critics, but to me it felt like they were trying to expand their sound by going in a more rock direction. “Marbles (Why You Say Yes?)” was the single that got play in the US and it’s a super fun track.
Will Smith, Big Willie Style, released 25 November 1997. I remember when this came out because it was such a huge deal. It was his solo musical debut away from his work with DJ Jazzy Jeff, and also his first after appearing in several popular and successful film and TV productions. Did he still have it musically? Would this even sell, dropping so late in the year where it could get lost in the Q4 noise? Indeed he did, and this was a huge seller with several hit singles from it.
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…and so the year ends: a cold and wet winter (I seem to remember it snowing quite a bit that season) but very much on the upswing. I was in a good place mentally and emotionally for the first time in years, and I had fully embraced the freedom I’d wanted for so long and now had. To be honest I hadn’t expected any of it, given how low I’d been only a few years before, so this was something new. I’d figured out how to find my own sense of stability, and how not to be so impulsively reactive to every situation, and that was mainly because I’d also learned how not to get so distracted. In retrospect, this was when I finally figured out ‘workarounds’ in personal situations I had issues with and started implementing them. Some I’ve since shed, but some I still utilize.
Musically, 1998 would start off a little slow, but I had hope. After all, I was already convinced that all my deeply-held favorite albums and songs were released in years ending in 2 and 8, after all!
When I think about late 1997 into early 1998, I’m of course reminded that this was when I worked on the longhand rough draft of The Phoenix Effect, but I’m also reminded that this was right about when I started working more often at my writing nook in my parents’ basement. I’d been transcribing off and on when I had a chance (or more to the point, when I felt like it), but by this point I knew that I had a pretty important novel project that kept me excited, and I’d started thinking about how I could up my game.
It didn’t feel right to me to wait until the longhand draft was finished before I began working on the revision. That’s how I’d always worked in the past (other than True Faith, which was direct to PC with an attempted longhand revision later on), but I was starting to feel, I don’t know…impatient? Like I didn’t want my interest to wane? That had happened to me in the past on several aborted writing projects, and I didn’t want this one to suffer the same fate. And that’s why I started transcribing and revising TPE down in the basement while still writing it longhand before my shift. And thanks to an old boombox of my uncle’s, I could listen to the new CDs I was amassing from work while doing so.
The interesting outcome of this was two-fold. One, the revision I was doing altered a few storylines here and there, so the longhand version goes off in odd directions in the latter half. And two, the longhand version stops cold and without a proper ending, mainly because I’d caught up with the transcription and chose to finish the novel on the PC.
Ivy, Apartment Life, released 6 October 1997. It’s hard to say if this was a Fountains of Wayne side project or a parallel one, considering they both started around the same time. Either way, this was the second album by them that caught the attention of critics and a larger fanbase, and its single “The Best Thing” got considerable play on alternative radio.
Big Wreck, In Loving Memory of…, released 7 October 1997. This Canadian-by-way-of-Boston band sprang up out of nowhere with the instantly catchy and bouncy single “The Oaf” which had considerable Alternative chart success. They were a huge favorite on WFNX and WBCN thanks to their local origins, and several album tracks got significant play during the autumn and winter. This got a ton of play at the store, both on the sales floor and in the back room, and it also got a lot of play during my writing sessions as well.
Various Artists, Invocation, released 7 October 1997. I mentioned this one over at Welcome to Bridgetown a short while ago: this is a sort-of holiday compilation that’s actually spiritually themed, and it contains music from several different genres including World, New Age, Orchestral, Electronic, and Vocal. I’d grabbed a promo of this on a whim, half expecting a New Agey dreamscape, only to discover something much deeper and more personal. I found myself listening to it constantly, enough that it ended up being a very important influence on Phoenix. It also introduced me to Pulusha, who I then found out was a side project of Global Communciation, who also became a major influence.
Various Artists, Lounge-a-Palooza, released 7 October 1997. Meanwhile, this odd little mix took the minor wave of lounge music at the time (thanks to an Esquivel and Stereolab) and went in the most typical Gen-X direction: covering unexpected popular songs in that style. You’ll get Ben Folds Five’s goofy take on The Flaming Lips’ “She Don’t Use Jelly”, a nightmarish version of Was (Not Was)’s “Zaz Turned Blue” by Polly Jean Harvey….and Vegas popsters Steve Lawrence and Eydie Gorme doing Soundgarden’s “Black Hole Sun”. A really fun mix worth checking out.
Everclear, So Much for the Afterglow, released 7 October 1997. This album tends to be forgotten in their catalog other than the single “Father of Mine”, but the first single “Everything to Everyone” is an excellent track right up there with their hit “Santa Monica”. I used to hear that one on the way to and from work on the radio and would sing along.
Fantastic Plastic Machine, Fantastic Plastic Machine, released 10 October 1997. I first heard of this one via the above song featured on a CMJ mix cd, and was reminded of the loungey J-Pop I loved from Pizzicato Five. It’s clever album full of fun lightweight groove.
Soundtrack, A Life Less Ordinary, released 14 October 1997. This was an oddball black comedy by Danny Boyle that didn’t do all that well at the box office, but its soundtrack received considerable attention, especially with its lead song by Beck, who was still huge at the time. This one got a lot of play on the sales floor and in the back room as well.
Various Artists, Shaken and Stirred: The David Arnold James Bond Project, released 20 October 1997. This collection was originally created basically because of producer Arnold’s love for the music of John Barry’s 007 work, but Barry was so impressed that he suggested to the Broccoli family that he try out composing for the next in the series, Tomorrow Never Dies. It’s a fascinating collection that remains faithful to the originals yet features them in different styles; Aimee Mann’s take on “Nobody Does It Better” remains one of my top favorite tracks of the year.
Mogwai, Young Team, released 21 October 1997. I believe this is right around the time I’d finally heard what this band was about, even though I wouldn’t be picking anything up from them for a few more years. I remember one of my coworkers really loving the epic “Mogwai Fear Satan” (which would become a calling card of theirs) and would sometimes play it on the sales floor on less busy afternoons.
Recoil, Unsound Methods, released 28 October 1997. Alan Wilder’s ongoing electronic project and his first since leaving Depeche Mode, it’s a much darker affair than his previous work under that name and reveals his desire to create much more experimental sounds than with his former band. It’s an odd listen but there are some really interesting tracks on there.
Roni Size/Reprazent, New Forms, released 28 October 1997 [US version]. I’d had a passing familiarity with the genre of Drum ‘n’ Bass — fast, twitchy, bass-heavy, futuristic, and inherently jazzy — but it wasn’t until I heard the absolutely brilliant single “Brown Paper Bag” that I fell in love with it. It’s an album right up there with DJ Shadow’s Endtroducing in terms of electronic excellence and highly recommended.
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Coming up: wrapping up the year, and looking forward to the next
Looking back on it, I think that road trip to Ohio was a key moment in my wanting to go out on my own a lot more. By this time I was still heading up to Toadstool Books in Keene on the weekends, but instead of heading back home afterwards I would sometimes expand on it by driving down to Leominster and stopping at the Barnes & Noble afterwards. I was driving into Boston on an almost monthly basis now, visiting my old haunts.
But I was also starting to take longer drives home from work as well. Sometimes I’d stop at that B&N on the way back, or maybe see a movie at the nearby Sony Theatre I used to work at (the multiplex at my mall was still under construction at this time, I believe). I started reminding myself that I had the ability to do this now that I had the paycheck and the transportation.
I’m not sure, but I think it was also around this time that I started taking the long drive to Amherst from my mall in Marlborough — a sixty-mile, ninety-minute trek mostly on Route 9. I’d restarted my comic book collecting, at first catching up on my favorite titles like Cerebus and Strangers in Paradise then discovering more titles that caught my interest, including several manga and indie releases. I probably only went once or twice a month on Wednesdays then, but eventually the trip would become a weekly habit that I’d hold until I left the store in 2000. [I’d continue the Wednesday runs until 2005 of course, though with a much shorter drive from Deerfield.] My family thought it was a peculiar thing to do, but I enjoyed the trip as it gave me time to think about my writing while listening to music or NPR. It was all part of my soaking up new ideas, inspirations and influences.
Joe Jackson & Friends, Heaven & Hell, released 2 September 1997. While Jackson wasn’t as prolific as he once was back in the 80s and early 90s, he used that extra time to conjure up even more eclectic music that never fails to surprise. This, for instance, is a thematic album based on the seven deadly sins, with guest singers like Suzanne Vega, Brad Roberts (from Crash Test Dummies) and Dawn Upshaw voicing them. It’s a peculiar album, but it’s also surprisingly enjoyable.
Travis, Good Feeling, released 8 September 1997. I remember the UK music magazines singing the praises of this Glaswegian band and how they were so different from the rest of the city’s scene by leaning heavy on the songwriting and dynamic sounds. They knocked it out of the park with the single “All I Want to Do Is Rock” (the song that got them signed by Sony). I was an instant fan and have been picking up their work ever since.
Cornershop, When I Was Born for the 7th Time, released 9 September 1997. You couldn’t escape “Brimful of Asha” during the late summer, the song was just everywhere. It’s a simple three-chord riff about famed Indian playback singer Asha Bhosle that gets stuck in your head for days. I remember liking it, getting sick of it, then liking it again after a while!
Forest for the Trees, Forest for the Trees, released 9 September 1997. This was a one-off project of Beck-adjacent musician Carl Stephenson that had a surprise minor favorite with the weird yet groovy “Dream”. I used to listen to this one in the back room of the store quite a bit.
Tanya Donelly, Lovesongs for Underdogs, released 9 September 1997. After the breakup of Belly, Donelly quickly started her solo career with this lovely record that features some of her musical friends like Pixies’ David Lovering and Throwing Muses’ David Narcizo.
Love Spit Love, Trysome Eatone, released 9 September 1997. The second and final album from Richard Butler (while The Psychedelic Furs were on hiatus) feels less cluttered and intense than the self-titled first, so much so that it sometimes feels like this is what the Psych Furs would have sounded like had they kept going. The second single “Fall On Tears” remains one of my top favorite songs of the year, especially with its quiet-progressively-louder format.
Death in Vegas, Dead Elvis, released 16 September 1997. The store was starting to see all kinds of oddball electronic (and semi-electronic) bands coming out of the woodwork by this time, and DiV is one of those where you’re not sure if they’re electronic, goth, punk, or something in between. The crunchy single “Dirt” got a lot of play on WFNX, partly thanks to its rigorous sampling of a famous Woodstock quote.
Stereolab, Dots and Loops, released 22 September 1997. This band continued to play its signature style of music that feels like it’s from another time and place, this time having success with the single “Miss Modular” which got a lot of play on a lot of alternative stations. One of my coworkers really liked this album and used to play it on the floor during his shift.
Dubstar, Goodbye, released 22 September 1997. I absolutely fell in love with the single “Stars” which kicks off the US version of this album. [It was originally on their first UK album from 1995.] Their lovely autumnal Britpop sound deeply appealed to me; it felt relaxing and took me to a different time and place whenever I put it on in the stockroom. It would soon be on frequent repeat at my writing nook soon after, earning its MU Legacy Soundtrack badge. I highly recommend this one!
Various Artists, A Very Special Christmas 3, released 23 September 1997. The start of Q4 always meant the new Christmas albums would be trickling in soon, and this third volume from the Very Special Christmas (the first in five years) was an instant hit, featuring performances by Sting, Smashing Pumpkins, No Doubt (their silly but fun “Oi! to the World” got considerable play on WFNX) and more. My favorite of course was Eleven doing their version of Schubert’s ‘Ave Maria’ with breathtaking vocals by Chris Cornell.
Information Society, Don’t Be Afraid, released 23 September 1997. After a five year hiatus, Kurt Harland was the sole member and rights-holder of the IS name, and chose to take an altogether different route for this fourth album. Fully embracing goth, industrial and darkwave sounds this time out (not to mention themes of paranoia, heartbreak and distrust), it’s a grim record but also a fascinating listen. I played this one a hell of a lot over the next few years, earning its MU Legacy Soundtrack badge.
Bjork, Homogenic, released 23 September 1997. Just when you think Bjork couldn’t get any weirder, she comes out with an album that explores the stranger edges of electronica. It itches, twitches and slides all over the place and keeps you guessing. I wasn’t the biggest fan at first but it grew on me the more I listened to it.
The Sundays, Static & Silence, released 23 September 1997. Their third and last record was completely unexpected, having been written off as an early-90s pop band, and yet they had a hit with the excellent “Summertime” track that still gets a lot of play.
Chumbawamba, Tubthumper, released 23 September 1997. I do love the fact that this band of self-described anarchists (in the full-on contrarian sense) chose to write and release their most pop-influenced record and even embraced their one-hit-wonder status with the “Tubthumping” single, mainly because it gave them an infusion of money to move forward with their otherwise ongoing DIY-ethos style. It’s actually a surprisingly good record with gems like “Amnesia” and “The Good Ship Lifestyle”.
Portishead, Portishead, released 29 September 1997. While Dummy is considered one of trip-hop’s best and most important albums, this follow-up felt like a deliberate move towards the more experimental edges of it. It shifts between feeling like a nightmarish spaghetti western and a disturbing fever dream with only a few quiet moments of calm like the dreamy “Mourning Air”.
The Verve, Urban Hymns, released 29 September 1997. This was an instant hit right from the get-go thanks to the “Bitter Sweet Symphony” single, but the follow up single “Lucky Man” also got considerable play on the local alternative stations, and still does to this day. At this point they’d dropped the dreamlike almost-psychedelic sound of their first two albums and full-on embraced a more guitar-oriented Britpop sound here.
Loreena McKennitt, The Book of Secrets, released 30 September 1997. This Canadian singer seemed like an open secret for the longest time, writing (or arranging) and singing folk with a curious blend of Celtic, New Age and Middle Eastern elements added. She was a big seller for the store in that genre, and this was her major breakthrough. So much so that the track “The Mummers’ Dance” got a major remix by DNA (yes, the same who remixed Suzanne Vega) that enjoyed chart success. This was a perfect soundtrack for The Phoenix Effect, so it too gets an MU Legacy Soundtrack badge.
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Coming up: The store preps for Q4 with best-ofs, box sets, and soundtracks.
After that long-distance road trip out to Ohio, I came back refreshed (and very sunburnt on my left arm due to my then habit of resting my arm on the open window) and ready to start working on The Phoenix Effect again. While it took me a little bit longer to get into the intended ‘write every day’ goal, the story was resonating with me even more as the days went on. My listening habits in the back room of the record store started evolving at the time, moving away from merely sampling a little of everything to the music that really caught my attention, enough that I felt I could use it as a writing soundtrack. These became the CDs I’d be playing on my little cheapo boombox down in the basement of my house while I started transcribing and revising what I’d written over the last few days. Pretty soon every album I brought home — whether a promo, bought or dubbed — became a potential soundtrack specifically for this project of mine.
311, Transistor, released 5 August 1997. An unexpected double album project for them with a staggering twenty-one tracks, they chose to squeeze it onto one disc to ensure fans could afford it. It is a bit of a beast, but it’s also a slight change-up from their then longstanding style of inserting rap into nearly all their tracks. “Beautiful Disaster” was the big single from this that got considerable play.
Jen Trynin, Gun Shy Trigger Happy, released 12 August 1997. Trynin’s second and final solo album was just as great as her first (1994’s Cockamamie) though it definitely has a more adult and autumnal sound that fit the playlists of the local AOR stations like The River. I loved the moodiness of the single “Getaway (February)” even though it sadly got overlooked by the label.
Mixtape, Songs from the Eden Cycle Vol 2, created mid-August 1997. I had so much fun creating the first mix that I knew I’d have to make more in the series, considering I was getting better and more consistent with my writing by then. But while the first volume holds a little more oomph, this one feels a lot moodier and introspective. There are a lot of songs about interpersonal tension and trying to fight for what you believe in.
Jesus Jones, Already, released 18 August 1997. It took them a surprisingly long four years to follow up from 1993’s Perverse, mainly due to their UK label being unhappy with that album’s underperformance and singer Mike Edwards’ increasing frustration about that. It took a while but after a few false starts they came out with what was a strong if sadly unnoticed record.
Mono, Formica Blues, released 25 August 1997 (UK). The first time I heard “Life in Mono” I was driving home from work when a local AOR station played it, and my mind was blown. It was such a spot-on Serge Gainsbourg riff that I went in the very next shift looking to see if I could order it for the store. It wouldn’t be released for another couple of months in the States (and by that time it had been featured on the Great Expectations soundtrack), but I immediately grabbed the import for myself. The album definitely has that trip-hop vibe but with an unexpected French-pop twist, and it’s one of my favorites from the 90s. It definitely earned its MU Legacy Soundtrack badge.
Stereophonics, Word Gets Around, released 26 August 1997. I don’t remember who introduced me to this Welsh band, but I somehow got a hold of the promo for this and I was hooked. They were British indie with a distinctive folky flavor to it, and I’ve been a fan ever since.
Oasis, Be Here Now, released 26 August 1997. Yeah, this album is definitely as bloated and drug-fueled as all the reviews say it is. The problem was that the Gallaghers wanted to top the brilliant Morning Glory and chose to do that by making everything about the new album BIG. The (admittedly great) first single “D’you Know What I Mean” tops seven minutes and the hippiefest third single “All Around the World” goes past nine. And the production is so crowded with sound (it being the peak of the Loudness Wars, of course) that it feels claustrophobic. Don’t get me wrong, though…it’s a really good album, it’s just a hell of a lot to take in. They’d learn their lesson and rein it in with the follow-ups.
Olive, Extra Virgin, released 26 August 1997. “You’re Not Alone” might be a one-hit wonder, but it’s a hell of a lovely song that shows up on several dance compilations, and the rest of the album is just as strong. This is a great example of that mid-90s/early 00s run of chillwave, electronic music that might sound great on the dance floor, but it’s just as wonderful hanging out at home enjoying the calm. It sold relatively well and we played this album quite a bit on the salesfloor.
Shaï nO Shaï, Human Condition, released 26 August 1997. I hardly know anything about this French band other than that this was their one album. They’re a fascinating listen, as they’re not quite Celtic folk yet not quite experimental indie either. I got this as a promo and I was fascinated by their sound, enough that it got repeat plays in the back room at the store and later during writing sessions. Another MU Legacy Soundtrack.
The Crystal Method, Vegas, released 26 August 1997. This techno band did in fact originate in Las Vegas and this debut was an instant hit with the local alternative stations with its blistering singles “Busy Child” and “Keep Hope Alive”. The original version of “Trip Like I Do” is here, but the US editions also added the version they did with Filter for the Spawn soundtrack that became a favorite that year.
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Coming up: Q4 brings not just more favorites but more road trips
It had been ages since I actually had a paid vacation and given that I’d be here at HMV for the long term, I was able to accrue enough hours to finally get one! And so it happened that my inaugural vacation would be a roadtrip….to Ohio! My high school friend was living in Columbus with his wife at the time and as we hadn’t seen each other in quite a long time, it was planned that I’d spend the week there. [Side note, the only reason I remember exactly when this trip took place is because it was the same week Contact came out in theaters and I really wanted to go see it.]
It was also the first lengthy road trip I’d be taking with my own car, which excited me to no end. My four-year-old Cavalier still ran pretty good at the time (although I somehow kept forgetting to get oil changes for a while there), and I set about preparing for it. As I did not yet have a tape deck in said car, I’d be bringing my boombox to listen to any cassettes. And it also meant making mixtapes! I’ll be honest, I’d started making the first Songs from the Eden Cycle mix partly for this reason, and my sister made me a driving-themed one that’s mentioned below.
Did I do any writing? Well, actually no. I’m surprised I didn’t, but at the same time I wasn’t anywhere near the write every single day habit I’d eventually reach. This was more a time to soak in the ideas and let them steep in my head for a while so I could come out with something strong and exciting. Instead I would read what I had so far and make a few mental notes of how I could move forward. I did manage to write one scene when I stopped at a hotel in Wilkes-Barre PA on the drive home, and it’s a scene that made it into the rewrite as A Division of Souls, where Nehalé witnesses an attack on a church.
If anything, this weeklong road trip inspired me to go out driving a lot more often in the future. While I wouldn’t do any further long-distance or overnight ones like that (at least not until I went to my first science fiction convention in 2001), it would inspire me to head to my favorite places in Boston and elsewhere with more frequency, and would also inspire my soon-to-be-weekly drive across most of the state for Wednesday comic book runs after work.
The Prodigy, The Fat of the Land, released 1 July 1997. Very much like the Chemical Brothers, this was a long-awaited album after a hugely successful teaser single (in this case, “Firestarter”). It was an instant hit at the store and ended up on the year-end best-of wall. Interestingly I’d known of the band previously as one that played more blissed-out electronica, and this new more punk direction worked perfectly for them. Several of the tracks still get a lot of play on alternative radio these days.
Limp Bizkit, Three Dollar Bill, Yall$, released 1 July 1997. The kings of meathead metal rap rock, they were a band I wanted to hate and yet somehow they managed to surprise me with halfway decent songs every now and again, especially this goofy yet fun cover of George Michael’s hit. This was their first breakthrough, and would get even bigger with their next album.
Mixtape, Trust in My Tires, Faith in My Chrome, created July 1997. My sister provided me with this collection of driving songs across several different genres — alternative, country, folk, classic rock, and so on — and I did give it a few plays during my Ohio road trip. The first track, fittingly, was Pretenders’ “My City Was Gone”.
Primal Scream, Vanishing Point, released 7 July 1997. Just when I thought PM was firmly entrenched in their Stonesy style they’d perfected on their previous record, they went in a completely different direction and recorded what would be the first of three albums that explored the darker edges of their sound. I really liked this one, especially the single “Kowalski”. This one recently got a brand new expanded edition just last week!
Smash Mouth, Fush Yu Mang, released 8 July 1997. I remember the first time I’d heard “Walkin’ On the Sun”: I was on Route 80 through Pennsylvania when a local alternative station played it. It sounded so different from what was being played at the time: both 60s retro and 90s pop-punk, didn’t take itself too seriously yet contained smart lyrics, and had one hell of a great hook. I made a mental note to ensure that my store ordered enough copies of this when I got back to the store, as I knew it would be big. They’d be a favorite of mine ever since.
Sarah McLachlan, Surfacing, released 15 July 1997. While Fumbling Towards Ecstasy had some success with the sublime yet creepy “Possession” and the quietly intense “Hold On”, it was this album that broke her wide open with several singles like “Sweet Surrender”, “Building a Mystery”, “Adia” and “Angel”. She’d come a long way from her quirky early 90s beginnings, that’s for sure. She’d follow this up by hosting the massively successful Lilith Fair festival.
Lauren Christy, Breed, released 22 July 1997. You might know her now as part of the songwriting/production team The Matrix (known for their hits for pop singers like Avril Lavigne, Christina Aguilera, Jason Mraz and more), but she started out as a quirky alt-rock singer, and her second album was a minor favorite thanks to the title track featuring on the Batman & Robin soundtrack. The slower and moodier ‘Reprise’ version of that track would show up on a future Eden Cycle mixtape.
Land of the Loops, Bundle of Joy, released 22 July 1997. This Boston musician was known for his quirky homespun lo-fi electronic music, and the catchy single “Multi-Family Garage Sale” got a lot of play on local radio, partly thanks to the clever use of samples from The Brave Little Toaster but also its use in a Miller Genuine Draft commercial. The album isn’t anything amazing but it’s enjoyable and fun in its own way.
Catherine Wheel, Adam and Eve, released 29 July 1997. Their fourth album tends to be forgotten due to its lack of huge hits, but it’s also their moodiest and most introspective. There’s the slick sounds of “Delicious” but also the lovely “Ma Solituda” that both got a lot of radio play at the time. It’s well worth checking out.
The Dambuilders, Against the Stars, released 29 July 1997. The final album from this Boston band sadly got overlooked partly because of the overwhelming success of Radiohead’s OK Computer, but they were always a fun indie rock band that got a lot of play from WFNX and WBCN. “Burn This Bridge” was a local favorite and quite possibly their most sucessful song.
Soundtrack, Spawn: The Album, released 29 July 1997. This was another movie that could have been great but alas ended up a box office bomb, and yet its soundtrack was a major success. Like 1993’s Judgement Night soundtrack it gathered rock bands and paired them with electronica groups. While some were rather…odd (Moby with Butthole Surfers, Marilyn Manson and Sneaker Pimps), there were also excellent pairings like Filter and The Crystal Method’s “(Can’t You) Trip Like I Do” which got a ton of airplay. It’s definitely a mixed bag like the movie, but it’s worth checking out.
Whiskeytown, Stranger’s Almanac, released 29 July 1997. Despite the band splintering at the seams and singer Ryan Adams being a hot mess both onstage and off, they managed to release a fantastic second album of alt-country goodness full of amazing songs and moods. “Yesterday’s News” was a favorite on WFNX and The River at the time, and my personal favorite was the high-lonesome closer “Not Home Anymore”.
Various Artists, Urbal Beats: The Definitive Guide to Electronic Music, released 29 July 1997. There had been several electronica compilations by this point, but this one was a major success thanks to containing several amazing songs by The Chemical Brothers, Orbital, The Prodigy, The Orb, Portishead, Roni Size, and more. [It also helped that it was released by a major distributor, PolyGram.] Of note was a breathtaking track by Rabbit in the Moon called “Out of Body Experience”, originally a single from 1993 and perfectly reshaping a lengthy Tori Amos sample of “Precious Things” into a torrent of chillwave goodness. [It was renamed the more simple “O.B.E.” here.] This mix sold considerably in our store and became an employee favorite, and it also spawned a sequel in 1998. It eventually became an MU Legacy Soundtrack as well.
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Coming up: In which almost everything I listen to suddenly becomes a writing soundtrack.
