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2018-08-07 07:40

Dorian Gray’in Portresi TrendKitaplar Kütüphanesi

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soft silly music is meaningful magical "When you were young you were the king of carrot flowers...." I'd argue that the best two rock-based albums of the 1990's were Jane's Addiction's Ritual de lo Habitual and Neutral Milk Hotel's In the Aeroplane Over the Sea. Other albums released in this decade might have had a higher volume of great songs, they might have songs I like better than anything on these two albums but as a whole piece of work, as a flowing collection songs that flow together and make up a sort of narrative whole these two win out. There are quite a few similarities between the two, they are both psychedelic influenced, they both have a sort of disjointed story running through the songs, and they both start off with a series of catchy songs and end with the most satisfying songs (ignore "Classic Girl and I like to consciously place it before "Three Days" (anyone familiar with In an Aeroplane Over the Sea will realize that make some 'factual' statements that are just untrue later on in the review. These statements should be viewed suspiciously, but also with the realization that they are in a sense 'subjectively' true for me (ie., they are the way that I see the album and have experienced it), this is probably due to the fragmentation of what is known as 'an album' first in the age of CD's which essentially destroyed the original format of Side A and Side B (or even more sides as in say the case of The Beatles "White Album") and further created a divide between artist intentionality and the expectation that the listener would listen to any 'album' in the manner that the artist originally meant for it to be listened to, with the advent of MP3 players, which if you are like me was almost always set on some kind of random play or shuffle mode. This was also ever-present for me in the CD age, and maybe it speaks something about me that I generally can't listen to music (I mean couldn't, if I were speaking in the real present tense I'd have to say I can barely listen to music at all, which sounds suspiciously untrue, but isn't. I don't listen to much music anymore, I think I cover this in more detail somewhere else in this review though) without intentionally distorting the experience through the use of shuffling the order. The difference between the shuffling feature on a CD player and on my IPod was huge though. I was one of those people who poured over linear notes and CD booklets, so through the act of reading I still 'experienced' the album in the order the artist meant it to be listened to in. I haven't had this experience since I divorced myself completely from the physicality of records and CDs, but nevertheless I was a huge fan of the random feature on CD players and on my Ipod)), which also happen to be quite a bit longer than the short fast songs they open with. Also for quite awhile both albums appeared to be the last word from a young band that broke up before they suffered the embarrassment of a band still kicking around long after their prime (it's so easy for me to not be aware that Jane's Addiction is still kicking around, at least for the rest of the 90's they kept their embarrassments to other projects). "I love you, Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ I love you, yes I do." Unlike any of the other 33 1/3 books I've read, this isn't a book so much about the album as it is a biography of the band. Since Neutral Milk Hotel only released two real albums, along with a small trove of demos and live recordings floating around the internets, it's not had to capsulize the band in a short book. This format is fitting for the band, while it would be tiresome to read yet another short history of a band like The Beatles, the background story of Neutral Milk Hotel, Jeff Mangum and the Elephant 6 collective is welcome. On the CD, the second track is sort of two songs. They call it "King of Carrot Flowers Pt 2 & 3", but it's also the "I love you Jesus" song and "Up and Over". Some bootlegs / live recordings have some other names for these two tracks and sometimes they are played as individual songs. "King of Carrot Flowers Pt. 2" is the uncomfortable part of the song. Jeff Mangum says during one live recording I have of this song that it's not ironic. The audience on that recording laugh, as if calling the song unironic is itself ironic. Irony is confusing. Most people I know who like this album either find this song to be a joke or just a dark spot to be ignored. I don't know what I really think of it, there is something about the song I love, but I am also a sucker for build-ups in songs that lead to epic-spazz outs. I used to picture in my head what my power-violence band could have done with this song. I think the results would have been phenomenally embarrassing. We were great at totally spazzing out and this is what happens as the song moves from the "Jesus" to "Up and Over". "Up and over we go through the wave and undertow." The album has just about everything in it that I would find great in a book. It's disjointed a mess of trailer park family drama, circus freaks, grotesque creepy sex, Anne Frank, and ambiguous religion. Lyrics and narratives have always been really important to me in songs. Even stupid lyrics I generally like better than listening to guitar wanking or epically long, technically perfect but boring songs. Technically great rock musicians have never done anything for me. The fact that I can play most of this album on the guitar is testament to how untechnical the basic musical structure of the songs are. I'm an awful guitar player. But it's really all about the words. "What a beautiful face I have found in this place that is circling all around the sun." On first listens the best songs on the album were the early songs, they were the catchy ones, the 'punkish' messes of noise and vocals that could barely keep up with the almost sonic mess from the various strange sounds being produced by traditional rock instruments, trombones and theremins. It was almost like listening to the start of The Feeding of the 5000 by Crass, when Steve Ignorant couldn't keep up with Penny Rimbaud's frantic and bombastic military drumming. Even though Neutral Milk Hotel and Crass sound nothing alike, there is something about both bands that occupy a similar place in my head or heart or spleen or wherever the bands that I love go to live. Maybe it is their earnestness, an almost over-the-top you can't fucking miss how sincere we are quality to both of them. This is important. Most pop-music sucks because there is no sincerity, it's just a bunch of garbage and nonsense over stale chord progressions and canned beats, nonsense rhymes and yeah yeah baby baby babies. Like my books, I want my music to bleed with the creator's thoughts, feelings and pathos.* But back to the album, as it moves on the songs get longer (sort of like Crass would do with their career), they get quieter(unlike Crass), the band starts to disappear, almost as if foreshadowing the breakdown of the band. By the time the album begins to near the end with "Oh Comely" Jeff Mangum seems to be left alone, the band would return, but even if there is anyone else playing along with Jeff on "Two-headed Boy Pt. 2" it sounds like he's alone, like the kid in the jar, safe and warm and left alone in the dark when you go. *Sometimes when I see some hipster ironically wearing some t-shirt for an 'uncool' band I want to put my fist in their mouth. I get the same feeling when I see some hipster wearing anything with brass knuckles (including tattoos of). Since I've been learning how to fight I want to get in front of them and say, 'lets go motherfucker'. I don't, obviously. I don't know why I just shared that. "We will take off our clothes and they'll be lacing fingers through the notches in your spine." I wasn't cool enough to have caught on to the Neutral Milk Hotel bandwagon when it was rolling around the first time around. As much as I would have loved to have seen them play live, in their glory, I'm happy I didn't find them when they were around. I knew of them, but never really listened to them much until sometime in the early to mid 2000's, a time when they came into my full consciousness and helped to keep my head straight. For a couple of years just listening to any of their songs would make me feel better, which was a good thing because very little was making me feel anything good then. Over time though the music lost it's potency to instantly transport me to a better place. It's still an amazing album, the songs are still some of my favorites in the whole world, but too often now my feelings are dulled to them, just like they are to so many other songs and bands that used to be so important to me. I needed Neutral Milk Hotel at the time I found them. I'd be afraid that if I had discovered them five years earlier the personal magic would have already disappeared when I kind of needed it. I have no music anymore that has that effect on me. Maybe that's why I almost never listen to anything anymore. I kind of hate music these days. Which is sort of sad since it was one of my big loves for so many years. I generally don't watch movies (or films as they called) anymore either, and I used to really love them too. One day I will probably not read books anymore either. I hope that doesn't happen but I wouldn't have believed music would generally sicken me ten years ago. If there was a betting pool on if I would still be reading books twenty years from now I'd give you the inside to tip to bet nope. I hope I'm fucking wrong though. "And it's so sad to see the world agree that they'd rather see their faces fill with flies, all when I'd want to keep white roses in their eyes" "Holland, 1945" is end of the poppy part of the album, this is the last song that can be thought of as 'catchy', the next song, "Communist Daughter" can get stuck in your head, but it's all because of a sing-song repetition, it cheats its way into your mind, and aside from the instrumental tracks it's one of the low points of the album for me. But that is still a track away. This is the end of the spastic, fun sounding songs (with lyrics), it's really the entire bands last hurrah, the band will still be lingering around in the background, but this upbeat dirge to Anne Frank is for most purposes the last Neutral Milk Hotel song, the rest of the album is a departure (this is where I'm starting to play a little loose with objective facts, bear with me). "Semen stains the mountain tops." A lullaby of sorts. A transition. It's been at least a couple of months since I started this review. When I started this review I wanted to write a review of the album, more than a review of the book. The book would just be an excuse to write about an album. Then I ran out of steam. Normally I would just post the review at that point, usually with the warning that I'm unhappy with the review and then feel quite uncomfortable when people comment that they like the review and I feel like once again I'm putting on a self-deprecating schtick, which maybe I am. This song is one of my least favorites of the album, it's the "Vicar in a Tutu" of the album, the sort of almost novelty song that sits uncomfortably on an otherwise great album. Some people would say it's the Jesus song that is the inexplicable shit that pops up on the album that to be polite it's best to ignore. For me this song is the steaming pile of poo. "And I know they buried her body with others. Her sister and mother and 500 families. And will she remember me 50 years later? I wished I could save her in some sort of time machine. Know all your enemies. We know who our enemies are." "Oh Comely" took the longest of all the songs I love on this album to be fully loved. It was the last gem to the album held out for me, something about the track alluded me for a long time. It's not like I disliked the track, but it just sort of hung back from the other tracks. Maybe it was that the song is a lot longer than the average songs on the album, and my general dislike historically towards longer songs. Whatever the reason part of me saved this song for awhile, I went through infatuations with other songs on the album. This one was my favorite and then that one was, and finally I fell in love with "Oh Comely". I have a tendency to try to save something from authors I love so that at some future time I'll have a new book to turn to. One that I can almost guarantee I'll love. Unconsciously I did that for this album, too. "And one day in New York City, baby, a girl fell from the sky, from the top of a burning apartment building, fourteen stories high, and when her spirit left her body how it split the sun, I know that she will live forever" Anyone familiar with the album will think that I lied earlier with the next track, "Ghost" still has the entire band. It has the noisiness and all of that going on. If the track had been placed somewhere in the first half of the album the song would have lost some of it's potency for me. Instead it's the lyrical song placed between "Oh Comely" and "Two-Headed Boy, Pt. 2" and for me it flows with the more longer and introspective dirgey songs. But, more importantly for me, and this is something that is unintentional of the song and it's a personal view of the song that I don't expect anyone else to share, because Jeff Mangum would have needed the time machine he wanted to save Anne Frank with to have written this song as I hear it. This is my own 9/11 song. Through some word associations around the words burning building, falling from the sky and 14 the second half of this song has it's own personal meanings to me. It's of course unobjective and wrong to put these sorts of interpretations on to things. In my head I dedicate this song to the person whose name I'll never know who I watched fall and die in front of me that morning. If I had a time machine I'd want to go back and save both of us, it wouldn't be possible, but since it's all a fantasy I'd also save all of the other people who died while I looked on from a safer distance between 13th and 14th streets. "God is a place where some holy spectacle lies. And when we break we'll wait for our miracle. God is a place you will wait for the rest of your life." This is one of the stranger songs on the album and brings the whole weird story to a close. Incest, and God and circus freaks, they all make return appearances here. For awhile this was my favorite song on the album, well for awhile about half the album was my favorite song at one point or another. But this was my penultimate favorite song. The song is a borderline rambling mess leading up to the God part that even though I don't believe in God still feels so important, like something very true is being imparted, and right out of comments about God the song abruptly reprises "Two-Headed Boy Pt. 1", comes to an ending and the leaves the listener with a few seconds of silence before you can hear the guitar being put down and what I imagine is Jeff Mangum leaving. It's kind of sort of a perfect ending to the album. I don't remember how long ago I started this review. It's been months. It's not at all how I pictured it would end up. It's not the review of the album I imagined it would be. My favorite tracks on the album are barely commented on, I just have no vocabulary for getting the reasons why I love a song into words. I thought I'd be able to. Sorry if this was rambling and once again self-indulgent. Thanks for reading. "But don't hate her when she gets up to leave."

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