The Last Time I’ll Write About Music…in 2023

Friday is fun because it’s about music. And there’s links, and playlists. Today is the final music newsletter of 2023. A rambling recap then, if you will.

Well, it’s that whole thing eh, the end of the year draws near and we get all these lists, and reflections and though music journalism is dead, and gone, and buried, my in-box still seems to be filling up with Top 10 and Top 50 albums and best singles and moments and movements…I guess if you try sometimes to just look a bit wider than the failing newspapers and falling subscription-rates of periodicals you just might find you get what you need.

Last week I gave a rundown of a few albums I loved. Click up above to revisit or catch up on that. I’m not doing an official ‘best’ list, I gave those up years ago. Music is not a competition. And I spent more time listening to Tangerine Dream than any other artist this year, which means I’d be out of the race instantly if it was any sort of competitive thing. I listened to Tangerine Dream so much I’m in the top 0.5% of Spotify TD fans. I listened to the band on vinyl and CD too - meaning I really went all in. I watched dozens of their concerts on YouTube, and listened to many of their albums there also. And of course, the real Tangerine Dream highlight of the year - and just a part of the reason I listened to them so intensely - was I got to see them live in concert.

It was a good year for seeing some really special concerts. My first favourite thing that happened music-wise, was the Rodger Fox Big Band 50th celebration where Rodger brought out three of the world’s greatest drummers. I drove to Palmerston North just to see it (because I was off to Pavement the night they played in Wellington). I should have loved Pavement too by the way (I guess) but it was just okay.

But the Rodger Fox Big Band “Big Drum Off” was amazing!

Plus, I got to meet Peter Erskine! Alright, it was only brief. It was a classic, old-school, awkward fan encounter. I hit him up at the bar after the gig. All he wanted to do was have a Heineken, but that wasn’t going to happen before I congratulated him on his performance and asked him to sign his latest CD for me. Here was a guy I’d heard play with Steely Dan and Weather Report and Joni Mitchell and so many others. I’d read his book, watched his instructional videos, and not a damn thing had rubbed off at all. (How could it??) But there he was. And I was there. I had to say hi and I’m really glad I did. His latest album is pretty sublime too! I didn’t get to meet Dennis Chambers, but I didn’t exactly try to. I just loved seeing him play - he’s phenomenal. But I really love Peter Erskine’s playing, across dozens of records and performances. Maybe close to a hundred. And Greg Bissonette is great too, but I was lucky enough to meet (and podcast) him back in 2019. No need to spoil his beer then!

It was a terrific show. But to be fair, I went a bit drum mad this year. I went all in.

Drum Mad!

These images tell some of the story. The first is a floor tom that used to belong to the drummer from Opshop. I bought it off TradeMe, and managed to talk the seller down a bit on account of the fact that it was signed by all the members of the group! I promptly removed that drum skin, bought a new one, my wife bejewelled the hell out of it, making it the piece of art you see there (it was a plain black drum) and I’ve put lights and LEDs and silver reflective tape all inside it to make it a piece of art/furniture (that is still totally playable). I also finally bought a cocktail kit (see middle image above). These were invented in the 50s as the original space-saver drum kit, for the jobbing drummer that didn’t want to take up room. They quickly became little percussion rigs and practice kits, then had a brief comeback in the 90s. I’ve wanted one forever, or at least since I saw Mick Fleetwood playing one. And now I have one. I also got into “Frankenstein-ing” drum-parts to make all sorts of kits, and as you’ll see in image three there I have created a ‘tiny’ practice kit that sounds super great for hip-hop beats, and no doubt even better if anyone else plays it. But hey…it was a big year for me and drums. And my band Dirty Spoons had several gigs, and that was all good fun too. And onward into 2024. (We’ll be playing in Hawke’s Bay at the Common Room, January 20, and soon after at Wellington’s Island Bay Festival in Feb).

I regained my love for music beyond movie soundtracks - but still listened to loads of those too. Finally, it made sense to me to get back into listening to all sorts of new things, as well as digging down deep into The Beatles again and listening to loads of Pink Floyd and Joni Mitchell and all sorts of things.

I wrote academic essays about Gil Scott Heron.

And Joni Mitchell.

And I got to see very cool, very special gigs by SJD.

And Kristin Hersh.

And Weyes Blood. Oh my god, Weyes Blood!

And Madeleine Peyroux.

These were the sublime gigs. There were others. It was memorable to see Dinosaur Jr again (largely because it was in America, at the Fillmore). But I thoroughly recommend any fan going to see them in New Zealand in 2024 - or wherever you are when they hit your town. Especially if, like me, it had been a long time between drinks.

I guess, what I’m really trying to say here, is that I was very lucky to see a bunch of amazing shows. And in the year that Music Journalism was finally autopsied - and it’s true cause of death was revealed to be Chris Schulz’ desperation to audition publicly for a job in New Zealand Music Journalism - I decided to really commit to bringing the gig review back. I love reviewing shows. It was always more interesting to me than writing about albums.

There’s simply far too much music to catalogue. And it’s futile to try. And, anyway, sometimes getting caught up in an old experience, or having a brand new experience with an old album is far more rewarding than the “paid shill” advertising of reviewing an album to feel like you’re part of the brand kit.

This morning, as I write this, up early as usual, I decided to listen to an album I haven’t heard in years. An album I was sure I was sick of; was dead and buried.

When I was a teenager, Mike Oldfield’s Tubular Bells was it! Right up there for me. One of the great “classic rock” discoveries, alongside anything by Led Zep or Santana or The Who or Pink Floyd or The Stones. And a gateway for me towards more folk, classical, soundtrack, prog and even world music endeavours. I went all in. I listened to everything by Mike Oldfield. I searched for meaning and tried to find the man - by reading his autobiography, and watching whatever clips and concerts I could. There was nothing there to find. Just the music. Most of it rather silly in the end. And then Tubular Bells suffered due to ubiquity, due to Oldfield ‘honouring’ it every single frigging anniversary and with various sequels across techno and trance stylings, and misguided attempts to ‘update’ it; always sounding oddly more dated than the original.

I hadn’t listened to Tubular Bells in forever. I had previously owned it on vinyl and never played it. (So sold it). My first discovery of the music was on cassette tape, then CD, then multiple anniversary editions and “Deluxe” reboots, and a big box set…

It was all too much.

A couple of weeks ago I spied it on TradeMe at a good price, bought it and got my father to collect it - since the sale was up in Hawke’s Bay. So here I am, up early and with a turntable and a self-imposed deadline (two of my favourite things!) I sat down with a cup of Arbonne spiced rooibos tea, and listened to a vintage vinyl copy of this overplayed classic. It was instantly a revelation. An album made for the record-format, two side-long pieces of music. The pops and ticks of the old record adding to the story, and the magic. The chimes of the grandfather clock in the lounge at mum and dad’s place perfectly integrating themselves with the music at exactly the right time! And all of this in the year that Tubular Bells turns 50.

I’m a hopeless old music bore. I know that. I always have been, and I’ve always known. But it’s not hurting anyone. And it’s kinda of magical in its way, right? Well, the music is anyway…

I’m following Bells up right now with a first listen to Music For Zen Meditation - a record I found in a charity story a month or so ago. (Blurry photo is for effect, or maybe it’s also for affect).

Oh, and I thoroughly recommend this album by the way. It’s perfect if you liked Andre 3000’s return to music last month. It’s perfect if you like spiced rooibos. And want to hear its musical equivalent. It’s perfect 7am music.

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This is the last time I’ll bug you about music. This year. I’ll be back soon with more music stuff though because a new year brings new music and new chances to hear old music and because even if you think you can stop me, I can’t stop myself. I love it. Still.

And if you’ve read this far you must too. So I thank you for that. I’d love to know what you discovered or rediscovered music-wise in 2023? What did you love to hear over and again? What gigs were you lucky enough to see?

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And of course here’s the final “Something For The Weekend” playlist of 2023. It’s a goodie. I always say that, or at least I often think it. But some weeks are better than others. And Vol. 149 totally slaps - for me at least. I hope you find something here that you like as well.