So, since I managed to write two whole posts over the weekend when I was planning on writing a bunch, then decided one of those posts was utter shite, here’s some filler that will hopefully create an open thread of some sort:
Riffing off this post at Scalzi’s soon to be late, lamented FilmCritic.com column, imagine you find yourself in this scenario: aliens appear and tell you that they’re going to destroy the Earth. But they won’t if you can prove the Earth deserves to exist. Your only chance is to play five albums from your collection. And these are actual albums, not live shows, not greatest hits albums, and not Time Life Shallow Exploitation of Your Memories of that One Decade compilations. You can use anything currently at your disposal that meets the criteria, but can’t, say, download something from Amazon. If there’s a backstory that explains the context of the album you can add that in, too.
And god help us if you happen to be a tween whose music consists entirely of Justin Bieber, Miley Cyrus, and…insert third crappy artist here.
The big question, really, is what would an make an alien decide to do this? My theory is that the alien would want to hear how humans present their stories and their condition and justify making it through another day. As such, that’s the music I would pick.
Here’s my list:
Sons of Bill, Sirens
This one is probably the biggest risk on the list, since it seems like a bad idea to rest 1/5 of the world’s hope on an album by a still-basically-unheard band that just came out last month. I’m pretty sure the Sons of Bill can take that burden, though. The reason this one gets the nod is that most of the rest of this list lacks kick-in-the-ass music, so I think it’s good to start here. The album bleeds with pathos, regret, anger, and longing, balanced by hope, determination, and the belief that, yes, it’s possible to do better tomorrow if you just get up and try. All of it is presented with the language of philosophy and the tent revival, making for an intricate, intelligent album layered with meaning. It’s basically the whole of the human experience distilled down to 50 minutes.
The Beatles, Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band
I was going to leave The Beatles off this list, since, y’know, it’s The Beatles and they always end up on lists like this. Then I was looking at my Beatles stuff and remembered, “Oh, yeah, there’s a reason that The Beatles always end up on lists like this.” Given a choice, I’ll take Sgt. Peppers, since it’s kind of a toss-up between that, Rubber Soul, and Abbey Road for me. Pretty much anything that ends with “A Day in the Life” is a winner in my book, though.
Harry Connick, Jr., Star Turtle
Say what you will about Harry Connick, Jr., but when he’s on, he’s on. Star Turtle is simply a great album. It also brings in a jazz/blues/big band flavor that might be helpful in the defense of the Earth. There’s a hole in my setup in that most of my blues collection is of the compilation/greatest hits variety. So I disqualified all my Buddy Guy from my own fake scenario, which is problematic, since there are few places better to go than an old bluesman to understand the human experience. Basically, what I’m saying is that this list really needs some John Lee Hooker or Howlin’ Wolf, but it gets none. I’m smart like that.
But, again, I loves me some Harry Connick, Jr. And since Star Turtle is a concept album built around the idea of helping a visitor from outer space understand what it means to be human[1]…well…
Over the Rhine, Ohio
First, I figured this list needed a female voice. Second, I feel like it’s almost cheating to go with Ohio, since it’s a double album. Third, I’m totally okay with that. The Earth’s fate is at stake, so I’ll totally cheat at any contest to keep the ol’ place up and running.
But, yeah. When I think of my favorite bands, Over the Rhine is always in the top tier. When I think of genuinely great albums, Ohio is pretty high up there, too. Part of the reason is the way that Over the Rhine communicates the human experience.
Paul Simon, Graceland
I’m going to be honest: I was listening to Graceland when I came up with this idea. If I had one album to prove that humanity is a worthwhile endeavor, I’d pick Graceland. It’s not a surprising pick, really, since Graceland always makes this list, much like The Beatles. Again, though, there’s a reason for that. Graceland is freaking amazing and it totally covers the entirety of the human experience.
There’s the joy coupled with despair of “The Boy in the Bubble.”[2] That’s followed by the hope coupled with grief of “Graceland.” Actually, if I had to choose two songs, I think I could do worse than to just play the first two songs of Graceland. Fortunately, though, I get the whole album. If you can listen to “Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes” or “You Can Call Me Al” and not understand the world a little better, I don’t want to know you. If you can listen to the duet with Linda Ronstadt in “Under African Skies” or the work with Ladysmith Black Mumbazo in “HomeLess” and not be moved, chances are that you’re more alien than the aliens.[4]
It occurs to me, too, that there’s an interesting trend in my five choices. They all end really, really well from the perspective of the telling of the human experience. Sirens closes out with “Virginia Calling,” which contains an indescribably amazing recounting of hope in the midst of broken dreams and longing for home.[5] Sgt. Peppers ends with “A Day in the Life,” a meditation on all that’s mundane in life and the confusion of living it. It hits that death and life dichotomy thing right in the bullseye. Star Turtle ends with “City Beneath the Sea” (if we ignore “Star Turtle 4,” which I advocate). See footnote 1 for that one. Ohio closes out with “Bothered,” which hits the whole recollection, fear, determination, and the importance of getting through it all with love thing quite well. Graceland brings us “All Around the World or The Myth of Fingerprints,” which is all about how, for all our differences, humans have a common nature. Maybe it’s enough to make the aliens think about what they have in common with us, too.
-------------------------------
Also, too, here’s my list of alternates:
Peter Gabriel, So
This was originally in Sgt. Pepper’s slot. It’s a great album, but in the end it really doesn’t get the point across that I was looking to make.
The Waterboys, Rock in the Weary Land
This would pretty much be my bench album. Like, if the aliens decided that they wanted something more than three months old and kicked Sons of Bill out, then, boom, Mike Scott and the Waterboys would get the call.
Our Lady Peace, Spiritual Machines
It’s kinda-sorta a concept album that’s a meditation on the human condition. So, yeah, I thought about it.
Harry Connick, Jr., She
This was actually on the list in Star Turtle’s place originally. I just realized that Star Turtle was a better fit.
Flogging Molly, Float
This pretty much hits the same notes I figured Sirens hits. I just think that Sirens does it better.
Flight of the Conchords, Flight of the Conchords
Because, really, who could destroy the planet that brought “Hiphopopotamus v. Rhymenocerous” into the universe?
Rachael Yamagata, Happenstance
Honestly, I tend to forget about this album. But it’s really good and has a lot of meaningful stuff. It’s just a little too one-note in terms of temperament.
Poe, Haunted
It could totally work. Just go with me on that one.
And I think I’ll stop before the list of alternatives actually doubles the original list, especially since I’m actually kind of feeling self-conscious about my music collection right now. The stuff at my disposal at the moment seems to be skewing pretty new.
Either way, talk amongst yourselves. What would you play?
Alternately, what album would you play if you wanted the aliens to say, “Fuck this planet?” I, personally, think that we should go out in a blaze of Chumbawumba. Or possibly Hanson.
-----------------
[1]I think. The stories told by the interstitials have never been that clear to me. That could be mostly because I skip them and go straight to the music. Judging by the album cover, though, I think the album is what happens when you get drunk, paint a star on a convenient reptile’s back, and pass out in a park. If you’re Harry Connick, Jr. you make a hell of an album out of the experience.
When I went to New Orleans I drove into town listening to Star Turtle. I ended up going too far on I-10 and took a convenient exit into a part of town that, well, let’s just say that it was the sort of place where I reflexively locked the doors. At the exact moment I realized I wasn’t in the best part of town “City Beneath the Sea” came on, which is a tribute to New Orleans. Since New Orleans has actually been beneath the sea since then and the scars of Katrina are visible everywhere it was an interesting moment. The people I locked my doors to keep out while I was passing through their neighborhood were the same people that folks exactly like me left to die.
I’m not really sure what the point of that story is. I’d like to offer some sort of uplifting message to finish it off. But, really, what can I say?
Oh, and I still think “City Beneath the Sea” is an excellent song. Part of the reason is because it now reminds me of that moment. I don’t think that’s a bad thing.
[2]Peter Gabriel did a version of “Boy in the Bubble” that couples the musical mood to the lyrics. It’s a very, VERY different song when done that way. I’m not going to diminish Peter Gabriel, since he has impeccable credentials and, for that matter, So was originally on this list. But the brilliance of “Boy in the Bubble” is the way that it couples the sad words with jaunty lyrics.
That, apropos of nothing, reminds me of nothing so much as the newly-released song by Scott Lucas & the Married Men, Blood Half Moons. I’ll let Scott explain:
For 'Blood Half Moons' -- which is the closest I've ever gotten to a beautiful piece of music -- I drove around in the desert for a couple of days and came back with lyrics full of blood, crows and whiskey," Lucas says. "And that dichotomy -- the light of the music vs. the darkness of the lyrics -- only serves to reinforce each other. It makes the songs seem MORE hopeful than if it was all flowers and babies. At least, to me.[3]
I disagree with Scott on one point. He wrote a couple of genuinely beautiful pieces of music for George Lassos the Moon. “Stolen Umbrellas” and “Weatherman” fit that category as well as “Blood Half Moons” in my book. Other than that, well, he’s basically just explained “Boy in the Bubble” better than I could.
[3]Also, too, I’ve got a running theory that Scott Lucas is some sort of anti-Roger Clyne, my theory being that the bourbon makes Scott Lucas mean and the tequila makes Roger Clyne happy. As such, Scott Lucas’s explanation for “Blood Half Moons” doesn’t surprise me one bit, since it sounds exactly like something Roger Clyne would say. Also, too, I’m pretty sure that the song that would come out of that story for Roger would be “Nada.” I also happen to know that the founding epic of Roger Clyne & the Peacemakers was about Roger and PH going backpacking in the Sonoran Desert.
[4]I also realized while listening to Graceland this morning that “Gumboots” and “I Know What I Know” fit in that category of songs that make no sense if you listen to the words but make perfect sense if you just kind of listen.
This, in turn, caused me to realize that Paul Simon shares a lot more in common with Mike Doughty than the fact that they’re both short, white, singer-songwriters who are much better off without Art Garfunkel. Mike Doughty is pretty much a master at telling a story without using two words that actually belong next to each other. The problem there, though, is that if I needed someone to make the case that humanity deserves saving, Mike Doughty doesn’t necessarily fill me with the same level of confidence as Paul Simon.
[5]The second-to-last song is “Last Call at the Eschaton.” So if we get aliens with a sense of irony, that’ll help.
----------------------
EDIT: Gah, there was a glaring error in the Sons of Bill entry of the "I didn't proofread to make sure the tenses still agree and sentences are still complete after editing a thought and separating out a run-on sentence" variety. Proofread, kids. And always do it twice. Especially since that one thing you glaringly screwed up might be seen by the person/persons you're writing about and they might slap a link up on Facebook. Like, say, the thing that just happened today. Oops.
I figure most alien-invasion scenarios are really just well-disguised sociology experiments. (Remember Signs? Man, that movie made a whole lot more sense once I figured out that the aliens were just messing with this one rural community, while the rest of the world went on with life as usual.)
That said, I really must find a way to work "going out in a blaze of Chumbawumba" into a conversation somehow.
Honestly, though, I don't know what I'd play to convince the aliens to spare us. Or to destroy us - it'd be just my luck that, say, a dose of Avril Lavigne would convince them that we weren't evolved enough to be a threat to them.
Posted by: Michael Mock | 04/19/2012 at 08:34 AM
Trumpet Child is the superior Over the Rhine album. I also really like their Christmas album, Snow Angel, but its not Christmas...
I might do this on my own blog tonight.
Posted by: formerconservative | 04/19/2012 at 08:34 AM
MM: Oooh, what if they're pulling the scenario in that one episode of Babylon 5 and just trying to determine if we're advanced enough to be a threat? Graceland may well cause catastrophe on a global scale...
FC: We're totally going to have to agree to disagree on that one. Trumpet Child is actually what got me into OtR, thanks to Fred Clark's recommendation. But I pretty much slot it into the space right below Ohio and next to Drunkard's Prayer. There are much, much worse places to be, though.
Posted by: Geds | 04/19/2012 at 08:44 AM
...but Trumpet Child has "On a Roll" and "On a Roll" makes me happy.
I also like "Entertaining Thoughts" a lot.
Posted by: formerconservative | 04/19/2012 at 12:03 PM
One of my best friend and Sons of Bill bassist, Seth Munson Green, read this blog and sent it to me and asked me to write a blog of my own. Anyway, I like your list, especially the Sons Of Bill album, but I took my list in a slightly different direction. http://calmerthanyouaredudes.blogspot.com/ It should be on the newest post. Anyway, hope some of you read and enjoy it. Feel free to respond to it.
Posted by: Quinn Rose | 04/19/2012 at 01:49 PM
Well f*, now you have me on a nostalgia jag.
Assuming I had to assemble it all in a blazing hurry while escaping a burning building as humanity riots in the streets, my humble attempt to save us:
Bad Religion: The Process of Belief
R.E.M.: Automatic For The People
The Moody Blues: Days of Future Passed
Rush: Hold Your Fire
Oingo Boingo: Boingo
But seriously, if you're relying on my physical collection, we are all doomed, so to ensure our destruction:
Bad Religion: No Control
R.E.M.: Dead Letter Office
Pink Floyd: Dark Side of the Moon
The Killers: Hot Fuss
Offspring: Smash
I'm afraid the women don't really get a say in this, because I don't think either Avril or Enya could sway them either way.
Posted by: Janet | 04/19/2012 at 06:50 PM
No RCPM - No More Beautiful World? Color me surprised.
Posted by: Big A | 04/20/2012 at 09:15 AM