It’s been requested that I don’t entirely kill this weblog. So, I’m going to start writing again.
Here’s what I’m going to say today.
First, I didn’t realize that the reason I so much love Elliott Smith and Matthew Sweet and Yoni Wolf (of Why?) and other male artists with sad, ridiculously beautiful vocal chords is because I listened to way too much Alex Chilton and Big Star when I was a teenager. I had no idea how influential he was, despite my reading about his influence for the past 25 years, on both the artists I admire and my internal musical chemistry.
I blame, in the very best of ways, my old friend, V.S., who sent me some Big Star stuff, I believe about a year ago, and which I quickly shelved. I thought I knew that stuff and I guess I don’t or didn’t.
I’m now listening to Third – Sister Lovers, which iTunes calls, quite accurately in turns out, a “shambling wreck of an album.” Every word is true – the album reeks of jealousy, petty madness, total frustration, and utter longing for some place that doesn’t exist. I remember first listening to his “Holocaust,” the seventh song on Sister Lovers, and how grotesquely adequate I felt that description was back at 15 for almost everything. Amazing to realize those cassette tape blues again.
The album really falls apart at the end.