The Long Listen: Introduction

Writing about music that stays with you for life.

I don’t really remember what life was like before hearing Miles Davis’ legendary album “Kind of Blue.”

I do remember singing carols during Christmastime as a child. I do remember hearing Ska for the first time at a youth camp and going nuts for it. I do remember playing the epic “Vesuvius” by Frank Ticheli with the Washington all-state band in High School. These were all memories of music that happened before Miles Davis came into my life.

Yet, I can’t remember what it was like having never heard “Kind of Blue.” I can’t imagine going about my day and having zero chance of hearing the shuffling bassline from “All Blues” in my mind. What is it like to never hear the opening notes from Miles’ trumpet solo in “So What” while doing dishes? How could I leave a wonderful house party late at night not knowing that I can listen to “Freddie Freeloader” as the perfect soundtrack for my drive home.

I can’t imagine such a life, nor do I want to. Some music sticks with you in a way that it seems you’ve never been without it. Even brand new music can strike a chord in your heart that seems to have been resonating since your birth. When you encounter music like this, it truly changes your life forever. This is what Miles Davis’ “Kind of Blue” is like for me,
as is “Choose Your Weapon” by Hiatus Kaiyote,
and “None Shall Pass” by Aesop Rock
and “Meta” by Car Bomb,
and “String Quartet #3 by Henryk Górecki,
and “III” by Stanton Moore,
and “Planetary Clairvoyance” by Tomb Mold,
and…
and…
and…

and…

and… that’s why I want to start a music blog.

I’ve been collecting music since I was a teenager, starting with CD’s, then vinyl, and now cassettes are coming back. I used to joke with my friends that I would go into withdrawals if I hadn’t bought an album in three days. For the sake of my wallet I’ve become more selective as the price of life and vinyl records goes up, but I’m still obsessed with collecting music. It can seem that my hoard of black and silver discs is a result of some sort of compulsive musical acquisition disorder. However, the frequency at which I listen to these recordings, even ones I’ve had for decades, proves that this isn’t just about buying shiny new things. In many ways, my record collection is an extension of myself. Music is connected to so many events, stages, moods and ideas in my life that it’s hard to bring up a memory without thinking of the music that connects me to it, or vise versa.

Just like the rest of life, music is too beautiful to not share. It’s too precious to keep only for yourself, so I’m going to start writing about the albums that make me, me.

I say “albums” specifically because that’s my favorite form of music. Live music is the euphoric pinnacle of the musical experience, but it’s harder to take a live band with you than an iPod full of MP3 files. (Dated myself a bit there.) Music singles are a great way to ignite excitement in a new song or artist, but in in my experience they don’t sit with you in the same way a full-length recording does. An LP lives with you, like a painting on the wall or a cat in the chair. It becomes an integral part of your life.

A great album can simply be a collection of excellent music, but it can also have an ebb and flow that is just as artistic as it’s individual components. Some albums can tell stories implicitly or explicitly as they play out. Some albums take you on smoke filled zen journeys into desert sunsets or exploring alien landscapes in the vast cosmos. They can tell you the sad tale of a traveling knife salesman, or plunge you deep into the mind of a dying computer. And to me, albums are currently the most honoring way we can capture sound. Our current musical economy devalues music by teaching us that it’s something intangible, something that just “happens.” Physical recordings, especially vinyl, enshrine music as a way of reminding us of the vision, effort and talent taken to create it.

So, with this in mind. The criteria I will be using to select albums for review will start to make sense:

- The album must be one that I own, showing that I think it’s not only worth your time, but the money spent and the space taken in your home. Every album I review will be one that I own in physical form, with the only exceptions being if a physical version is too rare for me to afford or doesn’t exist at all.

- The album must be one that I’ve owned for at least one year. This shows that I’ve lived with this album long enough for it to integrate with my day to day life. It’ll be something I think a lot about and revisit often. I may fudge the year-long waiting period a bit if it’s an album I’ve been listening to for years but for whatever reason don’t have a copy of yet, but the point is that I’ll be intimately familiar with the recording.

- The album must have “changed my life” in some way. This isn’t as high of a bar as it sounds, as I believe hundreds of albums have changed my life. Usually this happens when a record changes the way I think about how music can be played, written or enjoyed, even in subtle ways. Sometimes though, an artist does something “unoriginal” so perfectly that it cannot be ignored.

- Finally, the album is something I believe is worth sharing. If it meets the first three criteria it’ll certainly fit this one, but this point gets at the crux of why I’m writing. The album I’m writing about will change someone’s life, I just want to help that someone find it.

In these writings there will be stories of music and life, suggestions of similar artists, pros and cons, where and how to listen, and ultimately why I think these records are worth listening to at least once. Genres will be all over the map. You’ll see a lot of jazz and metal, but no shortage of hip-hop, rock, classical, electronic, international and even some pop music. I truly believe that every genre has good music to offer.

This is a just starting place. I’m writing about my experiences because the only story I can truly tell is my own. In the future I’d love to integrate stories of music that has changed the lives of others. I’m hoping to have guest writers, community discussions, maybe even meetups some day. My dream is that this publication inspires others to delve deeper into the vast world of music, even if it’s not music I’ve recommended myself.

I’m very excited to share my favorite things with you.

Listen long.