you make my dreams

I spent just enough time driving yesterday to listen to the soundtrack from Amélie by Yann Tiersen. I'd love to be able to write music like this -- instrumental music with great melodies, not necessarily complicated but layered. Here's a sample:

Yann Tiersen - La Valse d'Amelie by nurseda_cagatay

Really, the hardest part of writing a song like this would be composing the melodies, which I think has more to do with inherent talent than a technical knowledge of music.

I had a dream last night that I heard this great arpeggiated chord progression in my head. I struggled to pick it out on the guitar. Eventually I failed to recall the arpeggiation and soon I was unable to play the simple chord progression itself.

In terms of events this dream is far from interesting, but what is interesting is that somehow my brain created this complex melody in my head as I slept. (That or my brain tricked me into thinking I come up with this melody. Which might be likely.)

This isn't the first time my brain has written songs for me during that most sublime form of nocturnal respite known as sleep. Last summer I dreamed about hearing this new Peter Cetera song -- I could hear everything in my head, guitars, keyboard, drums, vocals -- it was all incredibly vivid. (I'm pretty sure my brain drew heavily on Bon Iver's love-it-or-hate-it "Beth/Rest" for inspiration since that song could be tacked on to a Peter Cetera album without anyone knowing the difference.)

My favorite YouTube comment for this video: "this song is like going to a really nice restaurant and getting served a bologna sandwich only to find out that it is the most amazing thing you have ever eaten."

So now I'm trying to determine if I'm really this talented musician while I sleep or if I my brain is just making me think I am.

this much delight

This week, taste-making music blogs like Pitchfork and Consequence of Sound reported their top 50 albums of 2011. I'm always curious to read through these lists, although I never have the desire or capacity to verify most of the releases. As I perused this year's rankings -- which I often disagree with, even if CoS was a little more "on" than Pitchfork this year -- I was reminded of a tweet I stumbled across back in August:

in my old age, my gripes with "the kids" isn't that their music is too loud or obnoxious, it's that their music is too safe and boring.

— brian cook (@bbcbubblegutz) August 11, 2011

I don't know this Brian Cook guy -- a musician, I believe -- but he couldn't have voiced my thoughts on the state of modern music any better. (Also, how awesome is Twitter's new "Embed this Tweet" function?) It's no surprise then that my favorite album from 2011 is neither safe nor boring.

The Big Roar by The Joy Formidable

One Tuesday morning last April my buddy Buster sent me a text, "Are you going to The Joy Formidable show tonight?" Having only heard of them I hopped on Grooveshark (I believe this was the pre-Spotify era) and listened to a couple tracks from the The Big Roar. I liked it. I replied to Buster, "Count me in."

OK, I know I'm not an old man but sometimes I feel one. I miss the days when I had the wherewithal and vitality to go see a band relatively unknown to me, and on a "school night," as older folk are prone to say. Going to see The Joy Formidable that evening hearkened back to my high school days when the only thing stopping me from going to just any old show was, well, nothing.

That night ended up being one of the best on-a-whim shows I've been to in recent memory (and not because they've been fewer than I'd like). At a visit to the Joy Formidable merch table, I happily surrendered the cash to purchase The Big Roar and now, with new ears, comparing the album to the band's, um, truly formidable live performance, I discovered one of those rare records nearly capable of what studio albums can only really attempt, capturing the energy of a live performance.

This video is from a year and a half ago so they're a little unpolished and Ritzy sings a bit flat at times but hey, that's rock and roll.

There aren't too many bands out there that mix rock, punk and pop as well as The Joy Formidable, and even fewer doing so with the economy of a three member line-up. They're destined for a bright future, and by extension, so is rock and roll:

Every time I listen to @joyformidable my faith in the future of Rock is restored

— Buster Heine (@bst3r) November 30, 2011

Amen, brother.

Brian and IV

To be honest, it'd be a bit of a stretch to say that Brian and I have bonded over this album. No, our friendship was forged from a different fire, a literal fire, one that launched model rockets hundreds of feet into the air. A fire that could have gotten us in trouble with the law. Yes, I'm making vague, confusing allusions to the time that we launched model rockets at the local high school baseball field late at night (read all about it here, fourth paragraph in).

In addition to a penchant for model rocketry, Brian and I also share similar professions. We're both accountants, although our respective functions as such differ greatly.

Notes:
I think IV by Led Zeppelin was the first classic rock album I owned on CD (I didn't pick it up on vinyl until 2008). It was a sort of chicken-egg scenario: I either bought that album because I was learning how to play "Stairway to Heaven" (as apparently every budding guitarist should), or I was learning "Stairway to Heaven" because I bought the album. I was 15 or 16 at the time so I don't recall the exact circumstances.

It quickly became one of my favorite classic rock albums and remains one to this day.

Kiana and Teaser and the Firecat

While it's not a surprising thing to like Cat Stevens (because what's not to like?), I wasn't aware of Kiana's affinity for the guy until she grabbed this record off my shelf for this photo. The fact that I didn't know this about her is quite indicative of her personality -- not because she's an overly private person, not because she's too shy to talk about herself, but because she is always so interested in others, perhaps at the expense of sharing things about herself. Some people are always talking about themselves; Kiana is always asking people about themselves.

This trait will certainly come in handy as Kiana leaves on her LDS mission to Michigan next week. She will be sorely missed for a year and a half.

Notes and Miscellanea:
Teaser is on par for best Cat Stevens album, right up there with its predecessor, Tea for the Tillerman. While Teaser has some of the more heavy-hitting songs of Stevens' career -- like "Moonshadow" and "Peace Train" -- Tillerman is more understated.

I'll make this a bit easier: Teaser is like Splash Mountain at Disneyland -- dramatic ups and downs -- while Tillerman resembles the Lazy River at Sunsplash -- a consistent stream of lower impact, though still poignant, folk hits.