There are few things more upsetting for a music fan than the demise of their favourite band. So it was for me with Urusei Yatsura in 2001, although a little over a year and a half previously, I'd already experienced something similar with Pavement. (Lo-fi-ologists will doubtless scream my ignorance at the fact that the Yatsura were blatant copyists of Stephen Malkmus' Stockton anglophiles, and although i always knew who was ripping off who, I can't really explain why i fell further in love with the Glaswegian 4-piece. Timing, i guess.)
I can still remember the joy of discovering that Stephen Malkmus' debut solo album (initially to be entitled Swedish Reggae, til he realised that wasn't especially funny) was on its way. It was 2001 and i was already thoroughly bored of my first year of university. It seems like Pavement-lite now, but Malkmus' first effort was one of a series of records that saved my summer that year. Here's the bizarre choice for a first single:
Since then, Malkmus seems to have grown into his 'slacker' reputation far more naturally than he ever did with his old band, and his work has become increasingly complex. It's still great, just less immediately fun than he used to be. And fair enough - he's earned the right. It just moves me less.
So recently, i belatedly decided to check on his old bandmate Scott 'Spiral Stairs' Kannberg's new band The Preston School Of Industry. I always liked Spiral's Pavement songs, from the blatant Fall-theft of Two States and Hit The Plane Down to the scuzzy heartfelt pop of Date w/Ikea and Kennel District. In retrospect it seems odd that i didn't get round to checking out Preston School a helluva lot earlier. In any case, I'm glad i did. There's something about his mid-life country-pop guise that's rather becoming. Even if his voice isn't the most distinctive, there's something lovely about his second album Monsoon that almost seems more Malkmus than Malkmus at times. Most excitingly, he finally sounds comfortable. There's not a lot to this song below, and in a way that's the most perfect thing about it:
Anyway. I've not touched on Steve West's Marble Valley, but this'll do for post-Pavement projects for now. More up-to-date references next time, honest. I'm just getting down what i've been thinking about for now.
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I was supposed to use this blog to write about football as well as records (and, er, other things), and so far this has been brushed to one side a little.
This is probably an appropriate time, then, to declare my undying love for manager David Moyes and the entire Everton side - especially the following individuals: Tim Cahill, Phil Neville, Phil Jagielka, Mikel Arteta, Stephen Pienaar, Joleon Lescott, Marouane Fellaini, Tim Howard... actually, i was right the first time. The ENTIRE side. More coherent musings to follow after this week's terrifying-on-paper semi-final with Manchester United. Come on, boys.
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I'm listening to Radio 1 and once again I'm appalled to discover how little of its content I enjoy. Aside from Talking Heads and Van Halen it's been shocking. I'm not sure exactly when my tastes and that of Radio 1's 7-10pm slot diverged, but they seem to have done so quite drastically. I'm not sure how I feel about this.
Although, thinking about it, if that means I'm of a different demographic to one that might appreciate the horrible bletherings of the terminally-self-impressed Zane Lowe, then fair enough. Easy target, schmeasy target.
