Yesterday I was perusing my music folder, when I realized all of my music after L has disappeared. Half of my music library has completely disappeared, and cannot be recovered. Which is unfortunate, considering the fact that I have finally gotten to the point where I want to listen to music again.

Anyways, the likelihood that I will be able to finish my project this year is extremely small.


Oh Raquel

Not to be kind of terrible, but last weekend I somehow got it into my head that it would be a wonderful idea to switch computers. So I disconnected everything and ended up lugging three computers all over the house. And then there were the million little technical hiccups (getting the wireless set up alone was an absolute horror). I'm still getting used to this new computer, but suffice it to say I am both parts pleased and frustrated with the outcome. And, as I still have to look through 23,000+ files under the folder titled "Music" (because seriously, that folder needs a little bit of organizing), I hesitate to even think about what that means for my 365 project.

But, if I go one more day without writing anything whatsoever, I will probably go insane. So, I have gratuitously replaced a hard to find album with something that I have been listening to lately. Call it cheating if you will, I call it an attempt to get back on the horse.

Has A Good Home by Final Fantasy

This may seem like an odd choice to anyone but me. Granted, Has A Good Home is pleasant and has its "moments", but of Pallett's three albums, this is undeniably his weakest. But I can't help my choice when this is the only good thing to happen to me musically since dancing to The Contours "Do You Love Me" over a week ago. In fact, many of the albums I enjoyed just a month ago I suddenly can't stand at all, so there really was no choice whatsoever.

Frustratingly enough, this album has generally been reduced simply to its quirks. The music in most reviews has been largely ignored or brushed aside, instead replaced with details about Owen Pallett and the making of the album. Because we all know that the defining characteristics of Has a Good Home has absolutely no basis on the music itself, which we will inattentively dismiss as "good, but not groundbreaking", but in the name-dropping of past projects Pallett was involved with.

If in an interview, Pallett describes himself as a misanthrope, or pointedly states "Musicians are humans", it's absolutely no wonder. Of course, background information may give some illumination towards understanding an album, but it shouldn't overshadow or define the album itself. Getting hung up on the concept of an album rather than hearing the music itself is just plain shameful.

As for the album itself, there are sixteen tracks and lasts about 45 minutes. The album opens with "None of You Will Ever See A Penny", depicting a man on his deathbed regretting his "ill-begotten wealth", singing to his heir, "I wish, I wish for you a lifetime of labor / Hard days make peaceful nights". The most famous track on the album is, of course, "(This Is) The Dream of Win and Regine", though it is not the only highlight of the album. As a whole, the album makes genial pop songs about love, among other things. 

Personally, I can't help but enjoy Has A Good Home. It's relaxing, and there are few things more pleasant than listening to this album really loud while walking around campus. I'd much rather listen to Pallett sing "Hey yo yo yo yo yo / I need an empire to overthrow / You make me wish for a more dangerous life / So I can show you 'bout self sacrifice" than hear anything anyone else is saying around me into their iPhones.

Though to anyone else, this album is somewhat lackluster and ordinary, in the words of Owen Pallett himself: "I don’t want people listening that are going to be that unwilling to engage in the music. In the same way, I feel like listeners, because there’s so much music out there, have stopped considering that the people who make music are living, working human beings, and as a result people ascribe a hierarchy to their music collections, and if somebody makes an album that’s worse or doesn’t sound the way somebody else’s sounds, they call it a mistake. That’s wrong, you know. Every artist listens to an album hundreds of times before they release it. I hope that people start realizing that musicians are actually groups of people who are making incredibly well-thought-out decisions."


Happy June!

So here is my obligatory, once-a-month apology for being a slacker. But today I mean this more than I have for other months.

If an explanation must be had, it may be as simple as this: I was exhausted. I couldn't listen to music without thinking, Do I have to write about this later?. I couldn't think about typing anything that would be meaningful at all, because I felt as if I had lost all meaning. By the tail end of the month, I was bedridden with a frustratingly persistant cold, spending four full days just lounging about trying to breathe.

As the days passed, I seriously began to question the point of this 365. It suddenly occurred to me that I am tired of keeping track of my days. I honestly don't want to feel them passing by, or adding up. My days became lined with anxiety.

As for music itself, it took a long time to make listening to music stop feeling like a chore. My listening habits were slowly devolving; I kept going back to the same albums, which eventually degenerated to single songs. And then, because I couldn't even handle that complexity, I turned to 1960s music. I went back to a time when songwriters didn't care about being cheesy, and there was a general good-feeling emanating from the majority of songs. And, because of the times, there was also anxiety-ridden, angry songs, like Creedence Clearwater Revival's "Fortunate Son". Eventually, I just didn't listen to music at all.

Though I hate being sick, I can't help but feel thankful for being forced to not doing anything. I could stay off the computer, and not remind myself about all the albums I was supposed to write about that day. I didn't have to go out of the house, where my iPod's headphone cord would bother me like a thick black noose, daring me to be alone with my own thoughts, knowing I would never manage that.

I have come out of the cold and out of my funk, and am ready to write about albums yet again. But, I hope to change the way that I write about them. I want to consciously stop trying to describe what the albums sound like, and focus on meanings and focus on why I connect to the albums, because that interests me infinitely more than looking up synonyms for "enjoyable".