I was listening to an echo, I was impressed....
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It's my theory that if you're reasonably preoccupied with music - in other words, if you're like practically everyone here - over the years you've developed your own idiosyncratic patterns for buying and listening to music. I used to buy one album (vinyl, then CD) every week or two, play it to death, then move on to the next one. Nowadays I find more pleasure in waiting a month or two, then devoting a good hour or two at a record store, emerging with a fistful of CDs that then alternate on the various listening devices around the house and the car. Then I'm ready to move on to the next batch. Last week was a time of gathering. And as serendipity would have it, I was invited for cocktails at a small restaurant in Princeton, NJ just up the street from the fabled Princeton Record Exchange, one of the top independent record stores of Our Great Nation. And yes, I wandered in there after several glasses of an endearing Willamette Valley pinot noir. Perhaps I should buy records when I'm squiffy more often - at a remove of seven days, it is clear that this was one of the more successful excursions of recent memory. (Perhaps more from this binge in later posts....)Sometimes that what-the-hell impulse serves you badly, sometimes reliably. This time I was lucky. Of the four CDs I left PREX with, the only one I am not likely to be playing forever is the Tex Ritter collection (though there are some fun cuts, and "Deck of Cards" is a camp classic that I may someday post), which was worth a flutter at six bucks. The pick of the bunch is the 30th anniversary edition of Nick Lowe's "Jesus Of Cool." I know other MOGgers have weighed in on this genuine landmark work. I loved it when it came out in '78, and 30 years on in many ways it sounds even better. Nick Lowe's mature phase is worthy of respect, but I think I love the Court Jester Years best. He could effortlessly out-McCartney McCartney, rock like a sumbitch, spin out a tender ballad - all the while assuming the persona of a totally lazy, cynical hack. Its audacity and throwaway brilliance have rarely been equalled. And even though Lowe relentless pursues triviality, "Jesus of Cool" manages to whack the universal aural pleasure center again and again and again, thereby achieving timelessness. Take "Nutted By Reality," two dissimilar songs that are blatantly and cheekily spliced together. (Think "A Day In The Life" without the self-importance.) From the opening line, a classic of stoopid-brilliance, to the genius lyrical flow and goofy funk of the first section, to the pitch-perfect Macca-goosing of the second half, this is one of a handful of tracks I can recall that succeeds absolutely on its own terms. Okay, so it's hardly the most profound song you've ever heard. Nick Lowe has more than made up for that deficiency in recent years. Its craftsmanship is breathtaking. And it's funny as hell, too. Nick Lowe was one of my heroes 30 years ago, and he has renewed his claim on me.
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