Today’s installment of Arachnophonia is by Music Library student worker, Jane (class of 2022) and features Citizen a CD box set by the 1970s rock band Steely Dan. Thanks, Jane!
It’s the summer of 2006, and you’re sitting in the back of a 15 year-old Subaru with the windows down and your whole family is harmonizing to the chorus of “Rose Darling” by Steely Dan. Or, at least, that’s what I was doing. My parents listened to that whole cornucopia of 70’s classic rock, so I grew up with artists like Crosby Stills & Nash, Joni Mitchell, and Paul Simon. I was always particularly drawn to Steely Dan, but I wouldn’t be able to explain why until I revisited their music in 2016.
Simply put, I’m a sucker for interesting harmonies, and no one does it better than Steely Dan. All of their songs highlight different instruments or musical motifs. For example, if you want a strong bass line, songs like “Rikki Don’t Lose that Number” and “Babylon Sisters” might suit your fancy. If you’re looking for a more melodic, wistful sound, check out “Everyone’s Gone to the Movies” (it has some great, unexpected xylophone chords) or “Doctor Wu”.
My favorite though, which I had never heard until after I moved to Richmond, is “Fire in the Hole”. It starts with a rhythmic and intense piano riff that makes way for sliding electric guitar and, of course, a chorus you’ll never get out of your head, sung by none other than Donald Fagen.
Vampire Weekend’s most recent, ableit already five years old, album entitled Modern Vampires of the City takes a leap away from the band’s quirky, Africa-inspired rhythmic playfulness. The album feels more emotionally powerful than the band’s previous work, but it hasn’t completely abandoned the playfulness that may have been the key draw to past listeners. Songs like “Step” and “Don’t Lie” both fit into more mainstream-sounding emotional pop tunes, while the band rekindles old sounds with new twists in “Diane Young”, “Worship You”, and “Unbelievers.”
2013 promotional photo of the band members L-R Ezra Koenig, Rostam Batmanglij, Chris Baio, and Chris Tomson
Deeper cuts into the album get into some of the songs which bring out the band’s famous unique sounds even more. Each song on this 12-track album is worth a listen, as each one provides a brand new experience for the listener. I come back to it time and time again because each time I listen to it, I end up interpreting stanzas or choruses or the entire song in a different way. Whether you want rhythmic, wild, and carefree or if you are looking for something to listen to as a break from studying, this may be your ticket.
For some strange reason, ever since I was a child I was drawn to classical music. It wasn’t forced on me by my parents through piano lessons or anything similar – in fact, my dad used to, and occasionally still does bemoan my lack of interest in his “oldies” (considering mine are centuries older, I question the use of this term) and acoustic singer-songwriter favorites. A memorable (and embarrassing) moment when I was entering sixth grade illustrates this complete disconnect from reality and a lack of common sense – I asked the 20-something DJ at the 6th grade ice-cream social/dance party to “please play some Mozart so I could hear myself think.” Yes, this actually happened, and no, it did not go over very well (clearly). I’ve grown somewhat over the years; my Spotify account tells me that in 2017, Sia’s “Chandelier” edged out the “Dies Irae” from Mozart’s Requiem, coming in at 46 and 47 most commonly played, respectively, but there’s still something about a good “Kyrie” or a sumptuous aria or an intriguing overture that synthesizers just can’t match.
In recent months, I’ve been listening to the Brahms Requiem more than any other album or song (I fully expect to find each movement on Spotify’s analysis of my 2018 habits). I walk across campus humming the key motives and it plays on my speakers as I do my hair or study for an exam. I’m sad to say I hadn’t discovered this piece before this year. The reason for this sudden infatuation? This piece will be the first I will perform as a member of the Richmond Symphony Chorus, with performances in the middle of November. From the night of the first rehearsal – a complete read through of the piece – cover to cover – in August, I was hooked.
Unlike the typical Latin text of the classical requiem, Brahms wrote entirely in German, and as such was free to abandon the standard movements and sections dictated by the traditional text. While I might bemoan the loss of a Brahmsian rendition of the “Dies Irae,” this gave him the ability to craft a framework of his own. My personal favorite moment of the Brahms is the second, though after a particularly intense rehearsal on the sixth I was about ready to shift my allegiances. I’m still loyal to the second though, for the reason of a specific 20 second section occurring at 9:34 – 9:54 of the second track of this recording. This moment, for me, captures the glorious beauty of wonderful music that truly stands the test of time, and let’s be honest, that soprano part is just so fun to sing!
Today’s installment of Arachnophonia is by Music Library student worker, Cole (class of 2021) and features U2’s album All That You Can’t Leave Behind. Thanks, Cole!
U2’s 10th studio album All That You Can’t Leave Behind was released on October 30th, 2000. It is their fourth-highest selling album, with over 12 million copies sold.
“Let’s be frank.” I feel like any discussion regarding U2 in 2018 has to, for whatever reason, be prefaced by those three words. The fabled Irish rock band present a somewhat curious case in the canon of The Great Rock And Roll acts; few bands achieved such a breadth of critical and commercial success without famously disbanding (see: The Beatles, The Smiths, and, to a lesser extent, Pink Floyd.) or cycling through members to the point of near-unrecognition (The Rolling Stones). No, U2 are still here, still plucking away through a slew of pedal effects. From Boy (1980) to Songs of Experience (2017), co-founders Bono, The Edge, Adam Clayton, and Larry Mullen Jr. have experienced everything that a modern musical career could promise. Eight number one albums in the United States. 22 Grammy awards (more than any other group). A PR misstep that has forever associated their name with “how do I get this off of my iPhone?” Induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Multiple collaborations with Kendrick Lamar that can at best be described as “uncomfortable.” The Dublin boys have done it all.
So, let’s be frank: the U2 of today is not the U2 of How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb, just as that U2 isn’t the U2 of Achtung Baby, just as that U2… etc., etc., ad nauseam. Nor should they be. A discography spanning such a great length ought to be varied, especially if the band in question is as experimental and flippant with their sound as U2. For this reason, I chose to write about their tenth studio album.
All That You Can’t Leave Behind constitutes the best of U2’s ever-changing sound. After a mixed reception to their industrial and electronic dance-inspired efforts of the ‘90s (Zooropa and Pop), the group set out to record a ‘return to form.’ Melding the electronic drums of the group’s Pop-era sound with the Edge’s signature effect-driven guitar playing, more reminiscent of The Joshua Tree than ever, the lead single “Beautiful Day” proved an instant success, charting at #1 in the U.K, the Netherlands, and Australia, and #21 in the U.S. In keeping with their tradition of social conscience, the fourth and final single, “Walk On” was inspired by and dedicated to Burmese democratic activist Aung San Suu Kyi, who was at the time placed under house arrest. “Walk On” is widely regarded as U2’s greatest ode to hope, due to both the instrumentation, centered on one of the Edge’s most gratifying riffs, and the heartening lyrics:
Walk on, walk on
What you got they can’t steal it
No they can’t even feel it
Walk on, walk on…
Stay safe tonight
All That You Can’t Leave Behind is the album that forced U2 into the very core of my musical tastes. I fully accept that The Joshua Tree is the band’s best output (and indeed, one of the greatest rock records ever), but there’s an elusive quality to this one that demands it be at the forefront in my mind. Maybe it’s just because it happened to be one of the three U2 albums forever interred in the CD player of my dad’s Oldsmobile. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the 50 minute nostalgia injection it provides. Or maybe it’s because not a great many albums are so blatantly and unabashedly a product of the moment they were created in. From the millennium-era instrumentation and lyrical inspiration, to the life the songs took post-release, All That You Can’t Leave Behind is the musical embodiment of how Bono & co. saw the world in 2000. Even for the majority of people who didn’t grow up hearing snippets of this album every time that got in their family’s car, I think we can all appreciate the power of an album that can transport us, if only for a short while, to its moment.
