Duffy vs Pete Yorn

I just had my condo painted. It's a departure from the organic green that calmed my frazzled nerves. Now, the red feature wall in my living room will somewhat energize my life, apparently. I do love the drama in the walls though, it is a good change. Different, but good. Well chosen. And to think how long I agonized about this decision! It seems so easy, now that it's done.

So, much of my things are in boxes now. I'm taking the time to purge the loads of accumulated crap that I get serving my time on earth as a music (and former arts and culture) publicist. Lots of books, dvds, CDs and such are creatively hidden all over the place. Those cute wicker baskets with lids? You guessed it - filled to the brim with random (and sometimes unopened) CDs which were dragged home in order to listen and learn so that I could spew my newly formed objective opinion on them to unsuspecting journalists. These boxes of good intentions litter the place. And I'm only one person. This weekend, much of this stuff will be boxed up in hopes they can resurface when i move into a larger space, so that I can actually find the right pieces, and accesories to temper the rooms. Again, I'm always the well-intentioned Webster. Always the do-gooder. Always trying to improve just that little bit. It's also why the frames are not yet re-hung on the walls. Why? Well, perhaps there'd be a better place to put them. Perhaps I could find some new things to hang? A new table? A new shelf? A new approach.

What I'm talking about here is both my curse and my blessing. It's the reason that people like working with me in my day job, but also the reason i continuously beat myself up over the details.

Which brings me to Pete Yorn. In one such chinatown-acquired wicker basket, I was browsing through what I thought were mostly promo discs, when I found Pete Yorn's musicforthemorningafter. This is one of those discs I most assuredly claim as my own. In fact, I immediately put it in my car stereo the next morning upon re-discovery to self-indulge. I was amazed it wasn't worn through. I can remember how many a break-up this disc dragged me through. How much I enjoyed the rattling moan of Mr. Yorn's voice, the full sound of the instrumentation serving as a cushion of solace for my own (now clearly minor) worries at the time. And somehow, his voice brought me to Duffy. One of the things I really delight about this Welsh songstress is the tone and edge that her voice seems to carry. It's a nasality that cuts, but has a musicality that is undefined and filled with success. Pete Yorn, in all his broken moaning shows the same dexterity with his vocal chords. And somehow, I think the appeal I find in both of them is similar. Not that I'm ever asking them to share the stage, but I'm always asking myself why I like certain types of music, and certain singers. I try and dissect the attraction because I find that most of my friends, especially those who don't work in the industry, are not as discerning. They'll take any top 40 rock station and run with it. They don't dig, they don't listen and they certainly don't cross-pollinate the genres. As we head into Jazz season I'll admit the most listened to Jazz record of the season for me was a collection of songs from Art Tatum, on the Capitol label. Beautiful emotive Jazz and not many 28 year olds even bother to cultivate an opinion on that. And yet, today, I was in the office listening to the new Judas Priest. Not my choice at all, but I could see what rattles people, what gets their blood boiling with this kind of music. And I've always been a fan of noise too... that's why A Place to Bury Strangers, No Age and Chow Chow have been favorite discs over the past year for me.

I think it must all begin with character and emotion. No matter the genre of music, if these elements are present, I believe I do take the time to consider it for my musical lexicon. I'll listen to anything once.