Phthursday Musings: Dance to the Radio

One of my favorite things to read is the annual music issue of Oxford American - “A Magazine of the South” is their catchline. The magazine publishes quarterly, and the music issue comes out in December. Most years the music issue focuses on a single southern state, though this year’s theme was “Up South”. The conceptual idea is that the South is not just a place but a broad diaspora, particularly notably in the form of the Great Migrations of African-Americans after the two World Wars, and so “Up South” is the sound of the South as transported… everywhere. Articles in the issue covered everyone from Lowell George to Tina Turner to Big Bill Broonzy. It’s a refreshing way to read about music and read about America.

Somehow it takes me multiple months before I actually get around to reading long magazines like this. On average I’m 9 months behind on the small number of magazines I have subscriptions to. I’m not sure why. So this issue came out in December, and I finally got around to reading it in July.

It used to be that they would include a CD with every music issue, but times being different, what they do now is put together a curated Spotify playlist, and include extensive notes about the playlist at the back of the issue. If you’re on Spotify, here’s a link to the most recent playlist, or, maybe, this embedding will actually work:

Last November we were at a breakfast place in Louisville, and I heard a song I’d never heard before, which sounded like I should have known what it was, but also like maybe it was unlike anything I’d ever heard before. It was “Fire” by Black Pumas. (The Soundhound app told me so.) I looked the band up on the spot and found Black Pumas referred to as a “psychedelic soul” band. My dad’s remark, I believe, was “I might like that”, and I was piqued, and at some point I listened to their album, and then I kind of lost track.

Well, Black Pumas are on the above playlist (“Touch the Sky”), and this week I was listening to the playlist while in the car on the way to my 16 inch softball game, and the song came on, and I thought, I should know what this is, but it’s unlike anything I’ve ever heard before. But, of course, I had heard it before.

The album Black Pumas, I guess I’d have to say, is kind of like a delirious tease. I can’t think of a better way to describe it than “psychedelic soul”. There are times where it feels like there’s something earth-shattering about to happen, and then they pull back. Is it unsatisfying? Tantalizing? I can’t help but think if this were playing everywhere that we’d all be mesmerized.

I’ve got to give you a video now, right? Here’s “Black Moon Rising”:

I knew people who dumped their Spotify subscriptions when the whole Joe Rogan thing blew up. And people who had dumped them long before, and people who never had them in the first place. I’m not here to defend Spotify as a company.

As a concept, though, Spotify is simply excellent at connecting artists with would-be listeners like me. And for as much hell as algorithms get, a lot of things I’ve found because Spotify decided I should find them have been excellent finds.

Today’s find was “You Were Mine” by Tami Neilson, “a Canadian-born, New Zealand-based country & soul singer/songwriter” per Wikipedia. That does not quite sound like something I would ordinarily encounter. It popped up near the top of the list of the Spotify playlist for Black Pumas radio, and, well, it was perfectly placed. See what you think:

She’s on tour right now… in New Zealand. But if she shows up in Chicago in the next year, I’m going. I don’t think you’re supposed to take a pass on a performer like that once you encounter them.

Her range is truly wild. Shirley Bassey one minute, and outright country the next. This is “Beyond the Stars”, and, yes, that’s Willie Nelson too:

Remember how I wrote a couple of paragraphs ago: I don’t think you’re supposed to take a pass on a performer like that once you encounter them.

Well, you’re also supposed to go see the legends while you still can. And to that end, I bought tickets last night to see 89 year old Willie Nelson. You should too.

I mentioned listening to the Oxford American playlist on the way to my game. I play 16 inch softball in the Kup Media League. (Your guess is as good as anyone’s as to how many of the actual ballplayers are now or have ever been directly affiliated with any kind of media operation.)

The last couple of weeks, I’ve been in the same relative spot in the batting order. Two ahead of me is our tomahawking second baseman Ronnie. Immediately ahead of me is our basepath terror left fielder James.

Ronnie. James.

And so clearly, I am Dio.

And promptly played this when I got back to the car:

If I had to cast a vote, yes, “Holy Diver” would be my vote for the most batshit crazy video ever concocted.

I followed up “Holy Diver” by listening to Iron Maiden. Also not the sort of thing I normally do, mind you, except for including “The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner” in my occasionally used running playlist.

I don’t normally shift from a gospel-tinged playlist to an early ‘80s heavy metal playlist at the drop of the hat. But if I do… I’m probably in the car, or at the gym. I’m not at home though. Only writing Phthursday Musings actually seems to get me bouncing around musically. Otherwise I’m more subdued… I have a bad tendency to just never put music on even when I can.

I’ve written variations on the music listening habits theme before. I’m always kind of amazed that there’s not a lot of people with a whole lot of thoughts about all of this, talking about where and how they still encounter music, etc. Most of the time I get the feeling that aside from the small number of people I talk to most often, nobody listens to anything, except, kids listen to things, and they’re absurd. My kid has rickrolled us like eleven times now. It shouldn’t be funny to him. But it is. And it always will be. Rick Astley will be laughing all the way to the bank for the next thirty years.

I am happier and calmer when I listen to more music. Aren’t you? Mostly? So it shouldn’t be so hard for us to orient ourselves around to it.

It’d be cool if just a handful of people sought out Oxford American or weighed in with thoughts about Black Pumas or told me about impending plans to see Iron Maiden. This sort of banter is honestly one of the things I feel is most missing from my existence. Working from home, not going out so often what with kids and viruses and politics and whatnot, cultural phenomena just being so scattered, social media being so lame I largely try and avoid it… When and where do we all get together to talk music? I used to talk music with dozens of people on a weekly basis. Isn’t this precisely the right kind of I-don’t-want-to-talk-about-kids-viruses-and-politics topic realm we should all be wholeheartedly embracing?

So consider it a challenge thrown down: Whether it’s something I mentioned here or something you’ve just been thinking about, go listen to something new, more than once, and talk to someone about it, doesn’t have to be me, just engage with music and through music with people and see if it doesn’t bring some level of satisfaction to your world that’s been missing.

Like the woman said: The rhythm is gonna get you.

Or as the man put it: Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance to the radio.