Music as healing

[NOTE: This was originally a LiveJournal post of mine from 11 September 2013, and lightly edited. The above playlist is missing only two songs — one was my own, and another is linked below.]

I was working at Yankee Candle that day, and I’ve already posted about what I did, what I felt, and so on. We all have at some point or another. One thing I rarely about, however, is how I got through all of it on a personal level.

Those of you who know me already understand that I’m an obsessive music nerd. I may not have a degree in it, but I’ve been collecting and listening to music since I was a wee kid. I’ve also made mixtapes since I started taping stuff off the radio, and started making my own real mixes around 1988. These mixes often reflected the mood I was in at the time and became a way for me to sort out those emotions and thoughts on my own.

In 1991 I created a compilation called Desert Storm: Sailboats of Ice on the Desert Sand, a highly-charged mix that reflected my anti-war feelings at the time. Considering I was a sophomore in college at the time, one can understand that this particular playlist might be a bit overwrought and self-righteous (Ending with Barry McGuire’s “Eve of Destruction”? How heavy-handed can I possibly get?), but it seemed to help me get over the anger and confusion I felt at the time.

A bit over ten years later, and exactly ten days after the events in New York, Pennsylvania and Washington DC, I put together another compilation to help me sort things out. I needed to put things in some sort of order so I could process what happened then, what some may have felt, and what might come next. I had to do this on my own, with no outside influence. I knew that if I followed the news I’d get overwhelmed; if I read the pundits, I’d only get pissed off; if I reacted to emotion and wished for vengeance, then I wouldn’t be true to myself.

I had to process this in my own way, and music, as ever, helped me through it.



1. Albinoni/Giazotto, comp. ‘Adagio in G Minor’
Certainly, some may connect this track to the more dramatic movie themes — or if you’re me, connect it to the first track of Sigue Sigue Sputnik’s Dress for Excess album — but this was actually a connection from a Best Classical Album in the World Ever cd I got from back in my HMV days a few years previous. I listen to this track for what it is; a quiet yet stunning piece of neo-Baroque music that serves to set the scene. In my head, I pictured the sun coming up, the start of a lovely and clear day, maybe even somewhat hot and muggy. There’s a sense of…something, underneath it all, however. One of those feelings of tension but you’re not entirely sure where it came from.

2. Jars of Clay, “Crazy Times”
Everyday stress. A long and frustrating commute. Driving into the city, or taking the train in, or maybe even like me, taking that back road in the pre-morning darkness towards your destination, coffee in the cupholder, contemplating why you’re even up and in this situation. Nothing inherently bad…just temporarily finding yourself in a situation or place that you’d rather not be in, fully knowing that you’d be free of it eventually.

3. Radiohead, “Street Spirit (Fade Out)”
Tension spills over as we get to our destination. It’s another Tuesday workday, and you’d rather still be in bed, even though you’re wide awake, already on your second coffee, and really need to get that project done today. For a brief moment you’re wondering why you’re even here at this job…it’s okay, it pays the bills, but does it make you happy? What do you really want to do? Can you even do it at this point, or do you have to wait another few years and save up? Shit…well, you can’t really think about it right now, can you? Almost time for that team meeting. May as well get it over with.

4. Live, “Overcome”
8:46am ET. “OK. What the fuck just happened…?”

5. The Cure, “All Cats Are Grey”
9:03am ET. “Oh. Oh, shit.”
9:37am ET. “What the fuck is going on…???”
10:03am ET. “…”

6. Nine Inch Nails, “We’re in This Together”
9:58am ET. The South Tower collapses.
10:28am ET. The North Tower collapses.
The first song I thought of as soon as the news had been sent my way. I immediately thought of all those people in the Towers, unable to escape. The people on the planes with no way of escaping. The commuters and the pedestrians below, scrambling to get the fuck out of the area as fast as they could. Tension built up to dangerous levels, where fight or flight kicks in. Where fear feeds or kills. And despite it all, somehow still having that choice whether to live or die, to endure or break.

7. Ciccone Youth, “(Silence)”
Just…silence, as we sit there, staring in disbelief.

8. Pulusha, “Isolation, Part 1”
Everything slowly starts to sink in. We see what we’ve witnessed on the TV, what we’ve heard over the radio, what our friends, our relatives, complete strangers have been telling us. We start processing what happened. Two skyscrapers that many people have known for most of their lives are reduced to rubble. A section of a major government building in ruins. Thousands of people killed. All other planes are accounted for, aside from those four. Some of us know victims, others only hear of them. It’s hard, but we finally let ourselves accept what just happened.

9. The Flying Bohemians, “Intro/Sodabottle”
This is something I’d recorded myself in the summer of 1995. It’s a shortish instrumental played on guitar through flanger and delay, using a soda bottle as a slide (as well as invoking a trippy sound — the title was partly inspired by a college friend who’d made a working bong out of a plastic 7-Up bottle). This is the moment where I’m told by my boss of what exactly happened and the aftermath, and I’m left speechless. I head out to the smoker’s table out back and proceed to light up at least four cigarettes in a row, staring up at the now empty sky. Our warehouse was right under a major flight path for planes out of Boston. I let it hit me fully and completely, just so I could process it all.

10. Manic Street Preachers, “If You Tolerate This Your Children Will Be Next”
“Let’s go get those motherfuckers!”
“Kill those shitstains, whoever they are!”
“Goddamn Muslims!”
“Bomb the fuck out of Afghanistan!”
“Oh, you have messed with THE WRONG FUCKING PEOPLE.”
“USA! USA! USA! USA!”
“Kill ’em all!”
“Those fuckers are gonna eat lead!”
“Those bastards are gonna fucking DIE.”
“Give me a goddamn gun, I’m gonna head over there and do it myself if I have to.”
“NOBODY fucks with America.”

Jesus, the fucking noise that came after that silence…

11. Failure, “Daylight”
Some of us wanted to go out and kill the bastards. Some of us wanted to hide from the world until it blew over. Some of us wanted to detach ourselves just enough so we could think clearly. Some of us wanted to know why these events happened. Some of us just…wanted it to be over, just so we could let the healing begin.

12. Temple of the Dog, “Hunger Strike”
By that afternoon, we were all exhausted. We’d bled our emotions dry for the day, leaving us empty. Calmer minds started turning towards the rescue efforts, the security checkpoints, the vigilance of the police, fire departments, FBI agents, the doctors and nurses, everyone from triage up to commanders and commissioners. They kept watch over everything and everyone, often at the risk of their own health and sanity. And for a brief moment, we stopped being hateful towards each other.

13. Jeff Buckley, “Hallelujah”
This song was everywhere that day. Leonard Cohen’s brilliant elegy of perseverance and reconciliation when the world is utterly fucked up beyond fixing seeped into the country’s psyche with Buckley’s sparse and haunting version. We would heal from this. Hopefully.

14. Radiohead, “You and Whose Army?”
Cooler heads finally prevailed, after all the noise died down. We would eventually find and capture–or even kill–the ones who had done this, but we weren’t about to go in guns blazing…at least not yet, anyway. We were still angry and in pain, and we wanted revenge…but many of us felt we could trust those trained to do so–the Armed Forces, the FBI, those in charge–to eventually put this all to rest. We were quiet…but we wouldn’t forget these events, not for a long while.

In retrospect, this didn’t quite unfold the way we wanted or expected — I will spare you the diatribe on that — but slowly, eventually, we found Osama bin Laden and many of his cronies. [EDIT: Twenty-five years later and sadly the day continues to be turned into patriotic porn for the conservative wing while the rest of us are trying to heal and move on.]

15. U2, “Mothers of the Disappeared”
Originally a song about the Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo, this song was my own personal tribute to those we lost that day. That’s what I try to remember. Not the violence, not the revenge, not the anger…but the loss. How easy it was to erase a life, and how easy it still is to use that loss as an excuse to further fuel blind hate.

16. Chet Atkins w/ Mark Knopfler, “Imagine”
I will freely admit that I am liberal, but in my own way. I will also admit to wanting peace over war if at all possible. On the flipside, though I dislike war, I understand it as an inevitability if and when it happens. I fully admit and embrace this paradox because it’s who I am. I will never be a part of a war as I refuse to take the life of another person for any reason, but I have come to accept that the world is an incomplete, fallible place where things disintegrate and events unfold to cause war. I’ve seen and read about uprisings and revolutions, I’ve witnessed and read about pre-emptive strikes, I’ve read about the after-effects of these things. We’re constantly evolving, and that doesn’t necessarily mean only in a positive direction. Things change whether we want them to or not.

At the end of the day, however, it would be nice to see a day where we can meet in peace, not in animosity.

Listening to 2000’s era Cure, Pt 2: Hits, Dots, and One-Offs

While Bloodflowers was a great album, it wasn’t my favorite of their latter years. I think part of it was that it came out at a time when my time at the record store was coming to a close, but it was also that it simply just didn’t resonate with me as deeply as some past albums had. Still, this sparked off a slow but steady stream of increased visibility. They were constantly on tour at the start of the decade, and followed it up with a number of collections and appearances.

The band released the Greatest Hits collection in late 2001 as a contractual obligation to the Fiction label. It features many of their best known tracks, chosen by Robert Smith himself, and also two new tracks: the poppy “Cut Here” (the title an anagram of the band name) and the perky “Just Say Yes” featuring Saffron from Republica. It’s by no means a must-have collection, but it’s a good place to start, and also a good mix for those not interested in a discography deep dive. The expanded version features a second album’s worth of the same songs, this time recorded acoustically.

Smith kept himself busy by appearing on a few albums, many of which are definitely worth checking out. He provided vocals on the great track “Perfect Blue Sky” on Junkie XL’s Radio JXL: A Broadcast from the Computer Hell Cabin — an expansive two-cd collection of upbeat radio-friendly electronic tracks and expanded house instrumentals. This album is one of my favorites of 2003 and also features vocals from Saffron, Dave Gahan, Gary Numan, Chuck D, Terry Hall, and more. It also features the groovy reimagining of Elvis’ “A Little Less Conversation” which had showed up in 2001’s Ocean’s Eleven. It’s a record worth picking up.

Also in 2003, he featured on…a Blink-182 album?? Sure, why not? The punk pop trio called The Cure one of their influences, and he features on the track “All of This”.

Then in spring of 2004, he featured on the second album by tweaker, drummer Chris Vrenna’s collective project. The album 2am wakeup call is about Vrenna’s wife’s insomnia so much of the record is dark and moody…but not necessarily gloomy. I listened to this album incessantly for most of that year, not just in the Belfry during my writing sessions (I was writing The Balance of Light at the time) but during my commutes to work. I highly recommend checking this record out.

Backing up a few months, The Cure also released the box set Join the Dots: B-Sides & Rarities 1978-2001. It’s a four-disc collection that proves that these oddities weren’t just throwaways or one-offs. Their b-sides, like “Just One Kiss”, “Breathe” and “The Big Hand”, could be just as amazing and memorable as their album tracks and singles, and even their soundtrack and compilation offerings like “Burn” (from The Crow soundtrack) and the cover of Depeche Mode’s “World in My Eyes” (from For the Masses) are great. It’s worth checking these out.

But wait! There’s one more thing! One that often gets overlooked!

They also did the theme song for the French animated series Dragon Hunters by taking their track “Taking Off” (which would show up soon on their next record) and repurposing it into this fun and boppy theme. This one doesn’t show up on any greatest hits, reissues or box sets (at least not yet anyway), but it’s easy to find online.

Coming up: finally, another new album!

Twenty Years On: 2001, Part V

It took a bit of time for life to get back to some semblance of normalcy after September, and for me it was getting back into the groove of writing and continuing my comic and music purchases. I shied away from most of the political commentary and conversation that floated around at the time. If anything, it made me even more determined to keep up with what had long been my true career as a writer.

Starsailor, Love Is Here, released 8 October 2001. Named after a Tim Buckley album (they even borrowed the same font for their logo!), Starsailor is similar to Elbow in that they have their own unique sound and mood that might not stand out upon first listen, but their songs definitely stay in your head.

Lamb, What Sound, released 8 October 2001. Where 1999’s Fear of Fours was an exercise in odd time signatures and emotional tension, its follow-up was a lovely, calm respite filled with some of my favorite Lamb tracks ever. This was on heavy rotation in the Belfry as it served as a perfect soundtrack for what I wanted to achieve with A Division of Souls.

Death Cab for Cutie, The Photo Album, released 8 October 2001. This Seattle band had been around for a good number of years and hiding in plain sight, but this was the album that gained them the most national attention at the time. Their popularity would only grow exponentially with each release.

Sloan, Pretty Together, released 16 October 2001. Canada’s Other Great Band doesn’t always get the love it so justly deserves, but those (like me) who love them have been fans for a LONG time. This is probably one of my favorite mid-career albums from them.

Pulp, We Love Life, released 22 October 2001. This band’s last album comes almost twenty (!!) years after they started, but they went out on a supreme high note. Every track on here rocks, and contains some of Jarvis Cocker’s best lyric work. Bonus points for the video for single “Bad Cover Version” which is a hilarious watch!

Lovage, Music to Make Love to Your Old Lady By, released 6 November 2001. One of Dan the Automator’s weirder side projects (as if 1999’s Handsome Boy Modeling School wasn’t weird enough) featuring Faith No More’s Mike Patton and Elysian Fields’ Jennifer Charles on vocals. It’s trip-hop meets film noir meets b-movie drama and it’s a hell of a fun listen.

Andrew WK, I Get Wet, released 13 November 2001. It all started here, with one hell of an attention-grabbing album cover (the iconic AWK with a bloody nose) and songs that rock your ass off so hard that you’re not quite sure if he’s being serious or taking the piss. And he’s still partying hard twenty years later!

Various Artists, Not Another Teen Movie soundtrack, released 14 December 2001. The late 90s/early 00s wave of teen movies covered everything from sex comedies (American Pie) to bro-filled sports films (Varsity Blues) to weekend parties (Can’t Hardly Wait) to horror movie pastiches (the Scream series). A lot of them were terrible, but that didn’t always mean they weren’t fun to watch. Most of the time, however, the soundtracks were often the best part. This particular one is filled with then-current bands covering 80s songs you’d have found in John Hughes films.

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I went into 2002 determined to make it as positive as I could. Not so much because of then current events, but because for the first time in years I was in a good place and could pull it off. I dedicated all my free time to writing, to the point where I was writing every single day, including weekends, on a major project I had a lot of faith in. I had good friends and the ability to keep in constant touch with them. And 2002 was indeed a stellar year personally as well as with the music that I loved.

Twenty Years On: 2001, Part IV

It’s hard to talk about 2001 without bringing up the events of that second Tuesday of September, but even then I wasn’t about to let that disrupt my life. I would still head down to my writing nook and nail that word count. I would still do my weekly comic and cd run. There was a lot to process, and life in the US would definitely shift in a direction I felt wasn’t the smartest or safest one, but I kept going. And as always, music helped me get through that.

System of a Down, Toxicity, released 4 September 2001. Another summer record, all the local alt-rock stations played “Chop Suey!” “Toxicity” and “Aerials” heavily. SoaD could be badass but they could also be hysterically funny, sometimes within the span of a single song.

They Might Be Giants, Mink Car, released 11 September 2001. TMBG has long been a favorite of mine, but their 90s output after Apollo 18 always felt a little lackluster to me. Fun, but not quite up to the level I’d hoped. This record, on the other hand, was a great shift in their sound — they felt a hell of a lot more self-confident and freewheeling here and sounded like they were having fun again.

Ben Folds, Rockin’ the Suburbs, released 11 September 2001. Folds’ first official solo record (not including 1998’s Fear of Pop) finds him continuing down the road of smart and funny pop songs and beautifully heartfelt ballads…plus the title song which would become my Live Journal title a few years later. Folds is still the only musician I know who has ever played with the San Francisco Symphony and managed to get the entire hall audience to scream “fuuuuuuck!” multiple times.

P.O.D., Satellite, released 11 September 2001. I’d known about this band for a few years from my HMV job, but this was the record that broke them into the mainstream. It’s a widescreen-sounding album which works to their benefit — “Alive” and “Youth of the Nation” sound spacious yet so full of life and power. It’s a solid hard rock album and still one of my favorites of that year.

Curve, Gift, released 18 September 2001. Curve didn’t release too many albums, but each one was brilliant with its sonic abrasiveness, dreamlike melodies and Toni Halliday’s amazing vocal delivery. They were like Garbage’s older, often-ignored sibling that had a much cooler music collection and less inclination to hold back on their creative endeavors. This was another Belfry soundtrack with heavy airplay.

Bis, Return to Central, released 18 September 2001. This Glaswegian trio had formerly been known for its punk-twee ‘teen-c power’ cuteness (and the closing credits theme for The Powerpuff Girls) but eventually morphed into a dance-ready groove machine, and the evolution worked shockingly well. I absolutely loved this record — it’s one of those with a handful of great singles and deep cuts, and “What You’re Afraid Of”, “Protection”, and “Two Million” sound great as standalone tracks — but it also sounds wonderful as a whole. Highly recommended.

Days of the New, Days of the New III, released 25 September 2001. Travis Meeks was pretty much the sole member of this band by then (the original lineup having quit in frustration and formed Tantric), and while this isn’t nearly as grungy as the first album or expansive as the second, it’s just as melodic and fascinating.

Sense Field, Tonight and Forever, released 25 September 2001. I got into this band quite late but their records have always been fun to listen to. Not quite emo, not quite alternative rock, but full of great songwriting and memorable tunes. Another Belfry soundtrack!

The Verve Pipe, Underneath, released 25 September 2001. Two records on from their ridiculously popular Villains and Brian Vander Ark was still writing amazing records, even if the band’s labels didn’t give a shit. This is a wonderful record full of some of BVA’s best love songs.

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More to come!

Twenty Years On: 2001, Part II

Easing into Q2 of 2001 here, I had my Wednesday errand down to a science: log out of work at 3pm, head down Route 116 from Sunderland to Hadley to pick up my comics at Hampshire Mall, then drive into the center of Amherst, park at the central common, and walk over to Newbury Comics (which was across from the Town Hall at the time), where I’d buy that week’s new releases and maybe a box of Pocky and some blank tapes for mixtape purposes. It was my way of relaxing after a long day of moving boxes.

We had a relatively tight team at YC. A good portion of us were smokers at the time and would head out to the back picnic table near the rear truck drivers’ entrance — this was before all the smoking bans went into effect, so as long as we weren’t directly in front of the door, no one seemed to mind. Bruce and I used to hang out there chatting about music and other things while WHMP played over the loudspeaker above the door. The job itself was hard work, but at the time we all enjoyed it, especially since we were now in a HUGE shipping department three times the size of the one we’d been at previously.

Plunderphonics, 69 Plunderphonics 96, released 3 April 2001. I think this predated the mashup craze by a year or so, if I’m not mistaken. It initially intrigued me because it’s on Seeland, Negativland’s label, so it had to be weird and experimental in a really fun way. John Oswald’s aural experiments aren’t for everyone, but they’re often clever and sometimes hilarious. This particular track is twenty-four versions of Richard Strauss’ opening to “Also Sprach Zarathustra” played at once and turning into a slurry mess that, ironically, sounds like the Ligeti piece played during the headtrip light show near the end of 2001.

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, BRMC, released 3 April 2001. Bluesy, shoegazey, and just amazing. I’d been intrigued considering the lead singer was the son of Michael Been (the lead singer of The Call, an 80s band I loved). It’s an album that should be played loud.

Skindive, Skindive, released 3 April 2001. I mentioned this band a few posts ago. It’s a pity they disappeared as quickly as they arrived, because they were fantastic! They captured the ferocity of Curve and the sexiness of Garbage, and even had a bit of the musical nerdiness of Failure. I still pull this one out and give it a spin now and again.

Stereophonics, Just Enough Education to Perform, released 17 April 2001. A band that has more of a following in the UK than here, this is a super moody but wonderful album that took them in a much darker and louder direction. “Mr. Writer” is such a great eff-you to their music critics that like the sound of their own voice more than the music they reviewed.

Elbow, Asleep in the Back, released 7 May 2001. An auspicious beginning for a band that would consistently release brilliant and beautiful music over the next two decades. Their debut is a quiet and meandering affair compared to later albums but no less amazing. They remain an “I will buy anything they release” band for me!

Tool, Lateralus, 15 May 2001. “Schism” was the bassline of the summer, felt like. I’d hear this on the hard rock stations, MTV, the alt.rock stations, and even on the college stations. I heard the song everywhere. They’re a band that tend to have a lifetime between releases, but this was well worth the wait.

Stabbing Westward, Stabbing Westward, released 22 May 2001. A 90s band I’d always enjoyed. They had that NIN blizzard of sound and anger to their music just like a lot of alt.metal bands, but they pulled it off with consistently amazing tracks. This album got a lot of play in the Belfry during my writing sessions! Also one of the loudest bands I’d ever seen live.

Radiohead, Amnesiac, released 4 June 2001. The second, moodier and creepier half of Radiohead’s strange foray into experimentalism, this one doesn’t quite stand up as well as Kid A does for me, but it does have its great moments.

The Cult, Beyond Good and Evil, released 22 June 2001. I’d always been a fan of this band but never quite got around to acquiring their albums for ages. I finally started with this one when it came out, and I was not let down. It’s HEAVY AF and loud as hell, and I love it. This one also made it through multiple plays during Belfry writing sessions!

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More to come!