This is from an eMusic.com write up called Dozens that takes a recording artist and asks for their fave 12 albums (limited of course to eMusic’s library). Something about the way he describes things struck me as familiar… maybe because this reminds me of the way I think about music too… anyone else?

I had the kind of dad that liked to wake up the house by putting on the Beatles’ “Birthday” really loud. He was a big rock fan and his record collection was pretty good, and that’s how I got into rock music. That, and I listened to the radio religiously up until midway through high school, and that was when songs and singing were the key. When I think of great albums they’re usually ones I listen to for a while, put down for a while, and then come back to — over and over. You know how you get obsessed with certain records and bands for a while. 

If somebody tells me a new record is great or I read about it, I’ll download it. It’s cool that now the moment you decide you want to hear something, you can hear it. I do feel conflicted about the fact that you can download only the songs you want, because I want people to listen to the whole album. But maybe that’s something you do once you’re interested. When I was a kid I bought singles. It wasn’t until I got older and a little more knowledgeable about music that I decided I wanted to listen to an entire album. You develop a means of appreciating music that somebody who’s a casual listener may not have. It’s like when you’ve gotten into good wine — you can tell the difference. 

I’m starting to realize how many dark records I picked for this. When I listen to music I want to feel something. I want to feel some emotion. I guess the kind of music I seem to get into most is not about how everything is cheery. That kind of music probably appeals to a certain type of person — I doubt my mom would want to listen to this stuff, for instance. Judging by this list, that’s what moves me: heartbreak and longing. 

- Compliments of eMusic

I think the part about his Dad really hit home with me, playing “Birthday” on full volume to shake a sour mood/argument or even JUST BECAUSE WE COULD was totally a part of my household growing up; my brother and I were Beatlemania from the time we could walk. I still remember getting a “Beatles - Best Of” Cassette for an early birthday and playing it in my Dad’s pickup truck on the way to go camping, and if we finished both sides, we just turned it over again. 

It’s funny that Britt Daniel prefers- no, cherishes the kind of albums that renew themselves in waves. These phases might be weeks, months, or mere days, but they define whatever period they happen to be playing over. You can listen to these kinds of records so much they wear out, and yet when you come back there is still depth there like a comfortable couch you used to crash on at your ex-girlfriend’s friends’ house. It’s funny because these are the very albums that Spoon excels in creating.

I go through their catalogue and hop from album to album, but seldom ever break the play order they had selected in releasing the album (unless I am giving someone a best of mix to convince them Spoon has far more to offer than “I Turn My Camera On”). By the time I am through listening to their polished and stripped-down-honest record “Gimme Fiction”, I am on to the more reserved “Girls Can Tell” and “Kill The Moonlight”. Soon, I am halfway through listening to Britt lambast their one time A&R man in ”A Series of Sneaks”, what I would consider to be the band’s “debut”, though it is not their first release. From there, it’s a total contrast to move to 2007’s “Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga” but it just feels like home anyway. 

The cassette just turned over and we’re still driving. 

Telephone My Heart (Unreleased) by Britt Daniel, Live @ The Swedish American Hall, SF, CA

Telephone My Heart (Unreleased) by Britt Daniel, Live @ The Swedish American Hall, SF, CA