Loved Live
I decided I wanted to offer a bit more explanation with this muxtape, appropriately titled “Loved Live”. I’ve tried to collect some live recordings that I have specific and fond memories tied to, while at the same time offering a thread of aural continuity throughout.
- Neighborhood (Tunnels) - The Arcade Fire
- The Leanover - Life Without Buildings
- The Clap - The Unicorns
- Wild Pack Of Family Dogs - Modest Mouse
- The Best Ever Death Metal Band In Denton - The Mountain Goats
- Wolf-Alice - Erin Tobey
- Walking The Cow - Kid Presentable
I think this recording is from an Arcade Fire show in Paris, 2005. When I first listened to The Arcade Fire, I think it was with my dad, I remember thinking how big they sounded, how grand the mood of their music.
The lyrics to this song have always reminded me of winters back in New Jersey, especially of a severe blizzard that hit the East Coast when I was maybe four or five years old. My brother and I were small enough that we could attempt to tunnel through the snow, though I can’t remember being very successful. The snow came in so quickly and at such an angle that it could form outcroppings of snow and ice that extended sideways from the corners of the roof of our house, reaching out into the air.
This track is from the album Live At The Annandale Hotel. I was first introduced to the studio version of The Leanover by my friend Abbey more than a few years ago. Exchanged in a fit of letters and handmade mix tapes (physical cassettes, oh!), this was but one of the many songs by which she pried open my ears and heart.
Abbey lived nearly an hour and a half away and when I would drive to see her, far too rarely, the tape deck of my bruise-blue Mazda 626 was never empty. I memorized this song, along with so many others on her tapes, speeding South on Interstate-287.
I saw The Unicorns live once, before the band exploded and then collapsed in on itself to form Islands. I only remember a few details of that show though, and some of them are a bit confused with other shows I went to, but this song brings the whole mess bubbling up in my mind.
It’s a dark hall, except for fluorescent neon lights over the bar. The stage lights are dim and there’s some kind of strange cheap candy-land set in the background. The crowd is sweaty and bouncing and I’m there with my then girlfriend Andy who turns back to look at me wearing a huge open grin. In one break during a song the band stops to sing a new interlude, “Come dance with me, I taste just like candy, come dance with me, I taste just like candy.” At the end of the night my friends and I got in trouble for being underage, but the bouncer went easy on us kids.
Modest Mouse is surely one of my favorite bands, and I blame this entirely on my friend Goldy. He’s responsible for the cultivation of a lot of my tastes, but this muxtape isn’t titled “Jono
When I hear this song I’m reminded of Goldy’s dog Diego. When Goldy first got him he was a wild-ass pup, and when I saw him last he was a grown wild-ass dog. We would play a special game where he chewed on my arms, and I nicknamed him “shithead”.
I remember when my brother first introduced me to The Mountain Goats. We were in his old bedroom back in New Jersey, it might have been maybe a month or two before we moved to California. He played No Children and Cubs In Five for me. I was so impressed by John Darniel’s lyrics’ cultivated and earnestly dramatic sentiments, and it wasn’t long after that I began to inhale more and more Mountain Goats from the internet. What I found was a massive discography and an even larger collections of recordings of live sets by devoted fans.
This track is from a show The Mountain Goats played in Chicago in 2002. I’ve listened to this set countless times, even memorizing the names of tracks the adoring audience members call out, drunk on alcohol and camaraderie. I think this track in particular captures what I think a live performance should be.
Another solo singer/guitarist, I am very impressed by Erin Tobey. Her rapid and delicate picking along with her low-voiced half speaking/half singing voice combine into a full and complex signal that suggest wide open spaces. When I found this live set I was very glad to hear that this fullness of sound comes through in her live performances as well. Or maybe I don’t know how to describe sounds. This is from a show recorded at the Bike Barn in 2005, more of which can be found here.
The introduction and lyrics of this song make mention of walking through woods, and when I hear it I’m instantly reminded of riding my bike in the middle of the night through pitch black parks. Either riding with my brother through South Mountain Reservation or with Ryan and Brad through lower Bidwell Park, it’s the same sensation. The asphalt purrs under your tires and the wind whips past your ears. The only light comes from the night sky as it intermittently breaks through the trees overhead. That you can barely see further than fifteen feet ahead of you all but eliminates the sensation of how fast you’re moving. It’s dark and everything just washes past you.
This is an indulgence, for sure. In case you didn’t know, I used to be in a little punky noisey band called Kid Presentable. This recording was from one of our last shows, and one of the last successful shows in Goldy’s basement-turned-DIY-venue “the G-Spot”. Come to think of it, it’s the only live audio recording of us I have.
Walking The Cow is a cover of TV On The Radio playing a cover of a Daniel Johnston song. I’ve never heard the original, but I’m sure it sounds more than two degrees removed from this. While this live recording is by all standards depressingly poor in quality, I think it reflects what many of the shows in that venerated basement felt like. Way too loud, crowded of course, small pieces of plaster fall from the ceiling to the floor amidst a tangle of extension cords, quarter-inch instrument cables and teenage legs; good old days.
I think seven songs is just enough to qualify as a mix proper, and I seem to have written a lot to go along with it. I like this kind of thing.