It takes me a little while longer to feel like I'm in a position to respond to an album. My guess is that I don't often sit down and listen to a full album undistracted. Instead, I keep it with me--on my iPod, in the car, on the stereo at home--and digest it over a period of days. Then, it usually takes multiple listenings for me to want to write about it.
Today, I'm writing about three albums I've acquired in the last month. Each has its merits, but I start with the lesser of them, the Hairspray soundtrack.
The best thing I can say is that the soundtrack to Hairspray makes me yearn to play the original cast recording. The soundtrack reinforces what I felt about the film. The new orchestrations reduce the power, poignancy and fun of the orginal. The new songs aren't of the same caliber as the ones they replace, and Edna continues to feel like less of a presence.
It's not bad. If it were my only copy of the score, I'd be playing it nonstop. But its not my only copy of the score, and this week I'll be replacing it on my iPod with the original cast.
My interest in Interpol goes back to 2004. Lee asked a friend of ours (a shout-out to Vince) to recommend music that I might like. Lee put Antics in my stocking. Contrary to what I said above, I was so taken with the first track that I listened to the album start to finish, several times. It affected me immediately.
There is something about an artist or band that can create a wall of sound that gets me in my core and connects me to the music immediately, instantaneously. Think Sigur Ros or Ulrich Schnauss. Interpol falls into this category and, as a result, Antics and Turn on the Bright Lights remain in heavy rotation on my iPod.
Our Love to Admire the latest drop from Interpol (a three-year wait) reinforces the bands place among my favorite and important artists. The music is not a great departure from the Interpol sound, but it is fresh and always engaging. Track for track it is as good or better than its predecessors. The lyrics are as obscure and challenging as one would expect and want. Our Love to Admire is definitely on track to be my favorite album of the year.
I first saw Suzanne Vega in the mid-1980s, when she was traveling in support of her first, eponymous album. To this day, Marlene on the Wall and The Queen and the Soldier remain among my favorites. Though I've never had an opportunity to see her in concert again, I've remained loyal.
I was thrilled to get Beauty and Crime, Vega's first album of new material since 2001. The album is a love letter to New York City and a beautiful one at that. The dude at the record store said, "It's great, but it's so different than her earlier work." It is great, but, like Our Love to Admire, it never becomes derivative or less than what makes Suzanne Vega important and inspiring.
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