A Guy’s Got to Have a Hobby

From time to time, my friend Jhon and I get together for lunch. It’s been too long since our schedules have collided. We would talk about technical things relating to music and music production. A producer we both like is Bob Ezrin–he did Pink Floyd’s The Wall and a Jane’s Addiction album. Jhon would sing the praises of Bob Ezrin’s work on the Kiss album, Destroyer. Regarding this current addiction, that was the first album I bought. Eh.

I’ve spent hundreds of dollars on albums from the iTunes store over the years. There’s always another $10 to spare. More then 80% of the music I’ve purchased was purchased out of nostalgia. At some point, I’m going to attempt a Digital DJ act at the local coffee shop. Clearly, I’ll never make any money at it, but it should be fun. I could never perform at a wedding or a fraternity party (maybe a class reunion). My familiarity with current musical trends is zero. The most recent album in my collection is David Bowie’s Blackstar–2015.

Lady Gaga seems like an interesting person. There was a piece on 60 Minutes. I looked around the store and found one album that might be accessible. The going rate for an album is $10. The Lady Gaga album is selling for $15. She’s got to be super wealthy. Why does she charge so much extra for a download? You’d think that such a filthy rich person would be charging less. A few dollars here and there won’t make or break me; it’s a matter of principle.

When I got my first external CD drive, I ripped my entire music collection. It took the better part of three days. All of those albums seem so dated now.

For some time, I was Mr. Mix Tape Guy–just about everyone around me got one. That duty was extended to burned CDs, then to playlists. I’ve made dozens and dozens of playlists on my current laptop. It’s like pandering to all kinds of imaginary audiences.

Into my possession came a box set of 1950’s popular music. I immersed myself, made some playlists. I can claim to have some familiarity with music of the time. Some classical music is now on the hard drive. I can almost claim a passing familiarity with orchestral music, too. All of those old composers are creepy-looking. There’s always new music to expand my horizons. Jazz is next.

My friend Eric is always turning me on to cool music. Some of my recent discoveries are Harry Nilsson, Jimmy Cliff, Kraftwerk, Del Reeves, and even Joy Division.

The worst album I paid $10 for is clearly John and Yoko’s Milk and Honey. I may be the only human in the known universe who likes Yoko’s contribution to Double Fantasy. It served as a contrast to John Lennon’s straight ahead rock. Every song on Milk and Honey sounds like the same five chords going over and over. I do still like the single, “Nobody told Me.” It stands in stark contrast to the suckiness surrounding it.

I always thought Jimmy Cliff would be super hard-core reggae–dark lyrics and music. It turns out that it’s simultaneously mellow and uppity. The Harder they Come predates Catch a Fire by a year. For a while, I had a post called, “Top Five: Albums.” I guess Suzanne Vega has to take a step over.