Mark Richardson

I'm the editor-in-chief of Pitchfork and I wrote Zaireeka, a book in the 33 1/3 series about the Flaming Lips album.

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This song, Dylan, “Mama, You Been on My Mind”. He wrote it in 1964. He was 23. Was anyone writing songs like this in 1964?

I’m not pacing the floor, I’m not not begging, I’m not asking you to say words like “yes” or “no,” I don’t even care who you are sleeping with. You don’t owe me a thing, basically. And I understand that you have your own life, your own desires, and that they don’t include me. I’m just thinking about you, is all, and I want you to know this. 1964!

Posted at 12:26am and tagged with: Bob Dylan, audio,.

Tonight I got what I am calling a well-earned massage. I don’t indulge in these often but it is an interesting and unusual experience (as well as just plain feeling good). There is a weird intimacy with someone you don’t know. You are on a table without, at the very least, most of your clothes, and you feel vulnerable. And for me, afterward, I always stare at the ceiling for a couple of minutes and take in the quiet and remember the couple of occasions when I was in the hospital—one time undergoing an emergency appendectomy, the other time b/c I had been in a car accident and had broken ribs and a collapsed lung—and I had an epiphany about the inevitable. I felt like in those hospital waiting rooms when I was in pain and surrounded by strangers I got a glimpse at what the end of life is like for most people in our culture. It wasn’t a pretty picture. 

But that’s after. During the massage, I think about all sorts of things and one thing I focus on is the music (I’ve had a few without it, but sound is pretty standard). It is, of course, always new age. The style I like least is the music that is supposed to evoke some kind of peaceful Native American mysticism. I can deal with electronic stuff. Tonight, at one point, there was a new age version of Pachabel’s Canon.

Now, this piece of music has to be one of the most overplayed of all time. Seems like it’s a constant presence in commercials, on Muzak, and, even more frequently, at weddings. I first encountered it on the soundtrack to the 1980 Robert Redford film Ordinary People. It was more or less the theme music to that movie. Ordinary People is one of the first movies I ever saw that seemed “deep.” The story revolved around an upper middle class family. One son had recently died in a boating accident. The other son, played by Timothy Hutton, had tried to commit suicide after his brother’s death because he was consumed by guilt. Judd Hirsch plays his psychotherapist, who tries to get to the root of his issues with his family. The story takes place in a Chicago suburb, and something about the whole thing— the leafy burbs, the emotional distance, all the things left unsaid— felt very real and close to me.

The wife, who couldn’t forgive Timothy Hutton for living since her other son was her favorite, was played by Mary Tyler Moore. MTM was a kind of hero in my family for some reason (I’ve never used it, but my DJ name of the future is DJ Mary Richards—if a Google brought you here, you’re too late!). Maybe because The Mary Tyler Moore Show was set in the Midwest. She seemed like our people. The script of Ordinary People was criticized because it demonized her character, made her seem like an evil woman who was the main cause of the family’s problems. That seems like a fair issue to raise. It was pretty one-sided.

Anyway, Pachabel’s Canon: Because I first heard it with Ordinary People, and it seemed very moving to me as a kid, it will always seem to me like the soundtrack to a very particular kind of cold, gray, distant, middle-class misery. It says “Life is pretty hopeless, even when you live in a world of comfort.” So it seems odd to me that it soundtracks things like weddings and massages.

This is a version by new age pianist George Winston from the 80s that I will bet he recorded b/c people were interested in this piece after Ordinary People.  

Posted at 1:42am and tagged with: audio, writing,.

“Whenever I get dressed up/ I feel like an ex-con trying to make good.”

The first time I heard the opening line to Smog’s “Ex-con” I had an almost frightening sense of recognition. You know that thing where you’ve had a feeling you’ve never given words to, and then when someone else articulates it perfectly, you almost feel like they broke into your mind and stole it? It’s an eerie sensation that is ultimately tremendously exciting because you feel less alone.  Well, Bill Callahan does that a lot for me, as did his fellow Drag City songwriter, David Berman of Silver Jews.

And then there’s a great bit here that feels so much more true now than it did in 1997: “Alone in my room, I feel such a warmth for the community/ But out on the streets, I feel like a robot by the river.”

Posted at 9:29am and tagged with: bill callahan, audio,.

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File under “Tracks I love even though their appeal is due almost solely to a super obvious sample.” Ekkehard Ehlers’ project März, from the album Love Streams. He’s the master of this sort of thing, see “Plays John Cassavetes (Pt. 2)”.

Posted at 6:43pm and tagged with: Marz, audio,.

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Even aside from the music, everything about this Grouper album is great. The title is so evocative: Dragging a Dead Deer Up a Hill. It’s the kind of simple line that immediately puts a picture into my head. And then the cover, which doesn’t convey anything specific but makes me want to look closer and understand what it might be about.

Tonight on the bus home from work I was reading an excellent profile by Nick Richardson on Liz Harris (Grouper is her project) in the current issue of The Wire. And I read that the cover photograph is actually of Harris as a little girl, when she was being raised in a strange neo-Christian cult in Northern California. I only have this album on mp3s, and this is partly why I like to buy LPs, but hand to god I always thought this photo was of a doll. Something about the posture, the clothing, the scene—just didn’t seem real to me. Guess I never did look closely enough. And the idea that it was a doll was kind of creepy to me. But the idea that this is a photo of the woman singing these songs, taken when she was a kid, is something much more. Maybe I’m just dense and you knew it was a little girl or even Harris herself all this time. But for me this was new information and it sent a chill down my spine.

Apparently, as a girl she was once given a dare by someone older than she to drag a dead deer up a hill and she pulled it up halfway. This is a song called “Heavy Water/I’d Rather Be Sleeping”.

Posted at 12:18am and tagged with: Grouper, audio,.

This is a key piece of music for me. I listened to it a lot when I first started getting into Zeppelin, so when I was 14 or 15. It’s amazing to think that they had only broken up four years earlier when I was buying these records. They seemed from another era even in 1984. Once I started driving I had a tape called Led Zeppelin Selections and it never left my car. I listened to that cassette a few years ago and it still played but it was stretched and everything sounded slow, which wasn’t such a terrible thing. This track was on my Zep mix and I used to crank it in my canary yellow 1978 Cutlass Cruiser station wagon, alongside “Kashmir” and “Over the Hills And Far Away”.

I’m going to say it this was the first instrumental that I obsessed over. There had been instrumental hits like “Popcorn” and “The Hustle” that I liked, but I just listened to and enjoyed them, I didn’t stop to think how they worked. But this track, “Bron-Yr-Aur”, a solo feature for 12-string acoustic played by Jimmy Page, seemed “deep” to me. It went beyond just being pretty, even though it was that, too. I would listen and think about how during the section that more or less serves as the “chorus,” Page plays a descending series of chords that sounds slightly ominous and creates a feeling of tension, and then he inverts them, which releases the tension and sounds, to me, hopeful. The music itself created a mini narrative with a conflict and resolution.

This is the third or fourth song I’ve ever bought on my iPhone. It cost $1.29, which is highway robbery—it’s only two minutes long. You can buy a television show for that. So I am posting about it here to get my money’s worth.

Posted at 11:10pm and tagged with: led zeppelin, writing, audio,.

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Love this song, just wrote about it for Pitchfork.

Posted at 12:07pm and tagged with: girls, audio, writing,.

New York London Paris Munich. This is instant happiness.

Posted at 10:35am and tagged with: todd terje, audio,.

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I have 6 or 7 LPs that are year-end K-Tel-style “Hit” comps in the vein of what much later morphed into Now That’s What I Call Music!. They’re mostly from between 1977 and 1981 or so, years in which my wife and sister-in-law were between the ages of of 9-13 and 12-16, respectively. I mention them because these come from their collections. They bought them 30+ years ago and played them to death for a few years and then forgot about them and here they are on my shelf now. Given these years, they are mostly disco, light pop, and laidback rock. What might be called “AM Gold”, but with a slightly stronger disco/R&B tinge. Right now I am listening to this song, “Please Don’t Go”, the final single (and only #1 hit) from KC and the Sunshine Band before they broke up. It was the first #1 song of the 1980s and I have it on a 2xLP set called Hitline. I love it.

Posted at 12:15am and tagged with: audio, KC and the Sunshine Band,.

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Eleven Thoughts on Grateful Dead’s “The Eleven”

1) I have a playlist in iTunes called “The Eleven” and in it I have 16 versions of this song by the Grateful Dead. Fifteen of them are live and one is an unreleased studio jam that was the genesis of the song and which was added as a bonus track on a reissue of Aoxomoxoa.

    2) This is not my favorite version of “The Eleven” but it’s up there; I include it here because many of the others are 10+ minutes long (too long for Tumblr) and this one is a tight 5:05. “The Eleven” was always sandwiched between two other songs, so you can hear the segues at the start and the end.

      3) This version was recorded on Valentine’s Day, 1968, at the Carousel Ballroom in San Francisco.

        4) Many days I think this is my favorite song by the Dead. It is, at the very least, the one most likely to lift my spirits. It’s manic and sloppy and they sound like they are having a fucking blast playing it.

          5) This song is unusual in that the time signature is 11/4. I always feel compelled to count this song in my head when I listen to it. There are three bars of 3/4 and then a 2/4, so you count it “1-2-3, 1-2-3, 1-2-3, 1-2”. Listen and try it. It’s fun.

            6) I’m not sure how this works exactly but 3/4 can sound dreamy when slow (it’s waltz time, so maybe it subconsciously evokes images of ballrooms), which probably explains why Bradford Cox is so fond of it for Atlas Sound ballads. But when it’s fast, 3/4 sounds jaunty and makes you want to drink beer and sway and slam into things (possibly because threes are also used for polka). So since this is three threes and a two, it feels like a song you might sing at Oktoberfest of something.

              7) I can’t find this quote right now, but during the late 60s Rolling Stone interviewed Phil Spector and they asked him about Bob Dylan. And he said something to the effect that the song “Like a Rolling Stone” was genius because any time you can wring something new out of the chords to “La Bamba” you’ve got it made. And this song has the same I/IV/V progression as “La Bamba” and “Like a Rolling Stone”, so it sounds like a Mexican party song to me as well.

                8) You can’t get the full effect here since this version is so short, but Jerry Garcia’s lead guitar on “The Eleven” is a wonder. His playing on the song always makes me think of the jazz term “blowing” (a term used even if you don’t play horn). He’s following the changes and coming up with melody after melody based on them, each new measure bringing a new idea, all of which are driven by this joyful feeling. It’s less emphasized here than it would be a year later when they were stretching this song out, but Dead bassist Phil Lesh, who wrote the music for this track, interacts with Garcia, essentially soloing in parallel and commenting on Garcia’s ideas.

                  9) This is a “counting song,” sort of like “12 Days of Christmas” (think “Four calling birds/ Three French Hens” etc.) Despite being called “The Eleven”, the counting doesn’t start there—the title is a ref. to the time signature. It’s not cumulative, in that it only runs down the numbers once.

                    10) When I was a boy at summer camp we used to sing songs before and after every meal in the dining hall. This was an ancient building that was made out of logs and was built in 1925 or so. The floors were wood, the benches and tables were wood, and we were packed in there tightly. So when we sang, it could get loud. One number we sang regularly was a counting song called “Green Grow the Rushes Ho” (here’s a modified version for a “Sesame Street” production of some kind). Kids, me included, got really into it. There was a part where the song goes “two, two” and it was a tradition to slam our fists on the table in sync with those words and everyone would be yelling and going crazy. I feel like I can trace my interest in music by bands like the Boredoms directly to this experience. The idea of music as something collective and tribal that involved chanting and noise and banging on things and being playful. So after the long instrumental bit here, when the Dead finally get to singing, I think of “Green Grow” at summer camp. And, interestingly, the “six” line here is a version of the “six” line in “Rushes”.

                      11) The Dead played this regularly from 1968 until 1970 but then removed it from their live repertoire forever, reprising it only once, in 1975. I’m not sure why they pulled it. Maybe Jerry got tired of playing it or maybe they started doing the wrong drugs and counting to 11 became a drag. But I’m going to gather every version of “The Eleven” I can find.

                        Posted at 12:35am and tagged with: Grateful Dead, audio, writing,.