Psychic Departure Bunny Lounge

The love of my life

This should come as no surprise to those who know me but I have a little problem with music. It owns me. Just when I think I've settled into one style, another tune comes along and off I follow. I'm easy like a girl drink drunk.* It's fun but at the same time, it's tiring keeping up with it all. I can't imagine what it's like for people who actually make music. At least I can stop anytime I choose.

Riiiiight.

Music. I am its slave**. That's why we've got tickets to The Cult, The Sisters of Mercy, Stereolab, and Beth Orton and will also be going to Asobi Seksu, Glenn Tillbrook, and possibly 45 Grave.

That's just the schedule for March.

My sister thinks it's weird how I find new musical genres to explore. Her style is pretty mainstream, though. We have these conversations where she wonders how I discover music and I wonder how she could possibly not. It's pretty entertaining. I think what it comes down to is it's second nature to me to prick up my ears if something sounds halfway decent. I may not be interested in the long run but I make mental notes and off I go. This has become so much easier in the last 10 years, though, I am still amazed that people can't find new music to like and get stuck in the high school/college rut. Then again, priorities are different for everyone. 13 years ago, an intern once remarked that with the amount of music I had, it averaged out to purchasing one cd every three days. That was just the cds (he didn't know about the vinyl, shhh). Every year, the habit gets worse. More expensive, too. Good thing there are now two of us to offset the expenses. Although it really doesn't. We love a lot of the same music but our tastes tend to compliment rather than duplicate. Enablers, the both of us.

So. Music is sexy. It should be illegal. Well, not really, because then I wouldn't have as much fun and there's just so much left to hear.

I do have other addictions, like, well, like...I don't think I do, actually. Nothing that seems to be all-consuming, all-encompassing, necessary in my life. I love books, but they're not addictive. I like arts & crafts, but they're not (usually) addictive. Spending time online is addictive but much of my online time is music, friend, food (recipe) or news oriented.

Despite my addiction, I was a bit bored the last few years. 2005 was better than 2004, though. Even previous years were better than 2004. But I didn't know how to tell my love that something was missing, that I felt like I was going through the motions out of habit (with the occasional bright light, e.g. Sondre Lerche, Metric, Kristin Hersh). I worried that I was going to have to look elsewhere for joy.

Well, apparantly, I was looking in the wrong place.

Music isn't just sexy, it's insidious. It worms its way into your life, all unassuming until one day it rears up and knocks you upside the head and demands attention. It said to me "just where the fuck have you been?! I've been waiting for you to catch up to me."

I'm not actually sure when things changed, looking back on it. Since summer, I've been resisting the lure. I blissfully ignored the signs, although a sudden interest in my old Parliament Funkadelic album might have been a clue. I wasn't going to let it get me. But dammit, it did. Somewhere between downloading Eric's and David's podcasts and David pushing me to create my own, it happened. I've become infatuated with music all over again. I think the last time I was so crazy about it was when I fell into lounge/exotica which led to the Eighteenth Street Lounge. Ironically, lounge and my last Goth/Industrial club fetish coexisted nicely. I can't explain how, but it did. I lived in that world quite happily for years before extricating myself and following a more indie path (I believe Kristin Hersh was my pied piper).

I don't think I realized that it was all about the music again until I saw Fort Knox Five listed as a dj at Lemur Lounge's final night (@ Casablanca).*** I got all giddy. That was last Friday night. So at 10:00 pm, I dragged my wannabe, star-struck self and sweetie out to listen to him/them/however the FK5 Collective defines itself.

I have to preface this with: I've rarely felt the need to go out just to hear a dj. Visually, it's not that exciting and aurally, it can be a mixed bag. There were a few exceptions. In 1999, I happily watched one half of Deep Dish do his stuff. I was pretty damn star-struck and died of embarrassment when my friend dragged me over and asked him to pose for a photo with me. I still have that photo somewhere but you all will never see it. I also was beside myself with joy when Ursula 1000 opened for Thunderball in 2002 (who else was at that show? Were Desmond Williams and Nicola Conte a different show? I get them all squished together in my mind.). But otherwise, sadly, we never even go out to see Eric much less someone else we don't know (we will, though, Eric, we will).

I don't know that I necessarily got that much out of the night besides hanging out with the always enjoyable Eric and Skarlet and the massive desire to wash my smoke-scented clothes immediately thereafter. Like I said before, it's not always visually interesting to watch a dj. But man, was it funky and it does cement the fact that I've got to head down this road. For now.

Since I woke up Saturday morning, I cannot get this constant beat out of my head (as opposed to this morning, when I woke up having dreamed of seagulls and rusting decks on a Russian ferry and some sort of spy-related intrigue). I told myself absolutely positively no more podcasts until after vacation. But then I thought: well, what if I get the urge to hear music while on vacation? I mean, music besides classic rock or rock that starts out as classic rock (like U2) or (god forbid) the crappy sappy soft rock Lite(tm) stuff of my home island that I tried so hard to escape. So one more went into the planning stages.

I blame Eric, David and Fort Knox Five for this one. Because the pusher is always to blame, right?

download

Tracklist

Psycho Karaoke (Mangasouk mix) - Transglobal Underground
She Was Nothing, Nothing Human - Mucho Macho
This Heaven (Secret Knowledge mix) - Love & Rockets
Les Boss Electros (Return Of The Big Man) - Two Lone Swordsmen
Touch Me - Supreme Beings of Leisure
Ejercicio #16 - Kinky
Domino (Thunderball to Vienna With Funk Mix) - Thunderball
Ain't It Funky Now - A.Skillz & Krafty Kuts (Fort Knox Five Vocal)
Being Right Is Being Strong - Mucho Macho
My Spine - Fluke

* Bonus points if you get the Kids in the Hall reference.

** I have a rather amusing photo of me from Halloween 1989 where I wore a 45 around my neck with the words "Slave to Vinyl" painted on it. I don't think anyone outside of the radio station got it.

***As an aside, I have rarely been to any show or club or lounge or what-have-you in the DC area when it wasn't a Goth/Industrial or Indie crowd (Mousetrap anyone?). Each time I went through my clubbing stages (early 1990s and late 1990s), I quickly tired of the crowds, though. Friday's crowd at LL reminded me of that fact. Except for the clothing and the music, it was like being at Catacomb or Tracks or Fifth Column or The Vault. People really are alike, outside of all the trappings. Or is that inside all the trappings? It was amusing, at any rate. And nostalgic. I kind of miss the going out, dancing all night, bugging the dj for the name of the song/artist, which I did all the time (to be honest, I even did that at our wedding reception a few times. But then, I knew the dj).

( 11:31 EH | aural pleasures. podcasts. )