incunabula
This is a word that means “printed books in Europe before printed books were even remotely common“, dated, for our convenience, to 1501 — 60 years, or two generations, after the invention of the printing press.
As an elder millennial, as I keep reading discussions of the state of the “Internet”, I am more and more certain that we will date the internetcunabula age to 1990 to … well, probably right about now. Maybe it will be 2020, when video-calling became 100% the norm? Maybe it will be 2030, when “AI” (LLM-mediated speech or text conversation) will very possibly become the default interaction mode between most people and most computers. Or maybe something else; the Internet is filled with possibilities, still, despite the crushing weight of money and corporations and government and social media.
It’s also worth noting what else happened after 1500: the Reformation, the Renaissance, eventually the Enlightenment … but that took, oh, five more generations or so, if not ten. The question of “how much faster will the internet make things go” remains a very important one — is there a “Second Reformation” coming? And if so, what is it? And, when … ?
begin the sun
ah! but how could we not ride around, one more time.
2024: albums of the year
A sure sign of my age, that all I want to talk about is the “album listening experience, man”.
Manuel Göttsching – E2-E4
This is from 1981, was recorded in one take, has only two chords, a drum pattern that no dance music producer would ever use, and I’ve seen Theo Parrish (see, more Theo) set dancefloors on fire with the first 15 minutes multiple times — but it for sure got a lot of play at home.
Dougie & The Tone Drifters – Mme Zin Zin
I talked about the sublime “Immigration Stumble” in my tracks post, but the whole thing is sort of amazing: two songs about bears getting married, a straight-up country record that sounds like a Tarantino movie, etc. And sneaky vocals by a Canadian accordion player, Marie-Laure Boudreau — of course, what more could you ask for.
Paul Simon – The Rhythm Of The Saints
Well, here we are at middle age. But for real, I got Simon’s “The Obvious Child” stuck in my head one day, which I would have sworn was on Graceland — which it is not, it is on this very good album. But, I don’t know a single other track from this record! Maybe I heard it on a Greatest Hits cassette? Unclear, but regardless, this record is pretty great — or maybe, Paul Simon knows some great Brazilian musicians — I’ll take it just the same.
musclecars – Sugar Honey Iced Tea!
The dons. I heard these two called “the future of house music” at a party a few years ago, and this record (as well as the killer remix double-pack) pretty much confirms it. The music is lush, personal, and not without a banger or two sneaking around in the whole “album listening experience”.
Danny Clay – No More Darkness, No More Night
This year’s “breath out” record, and a worthy successor to Clay’s Ocean Park, from a few years ago: plaintive and quiet and thoughtful and calm.
Catherine Lamb – Curva Triangulus
Ahh, but this one starts as a sort of pre-Baroque “breath out” record, there’s a nice guitar part, it’s very polite until THE LOW BRASS COMES IN, and it all gets a bit funky, really. I was expecting a certain thing from this, and was very pleased to see that, in fact, two things were going on.
Jacky Blaire & The Hot Biscuits – The Album
Back to Louisiana: how can you dislike an album with a song called “Let the mermaids flirt with me”, fives blues, a cover of Take Me Out To The Ball Game, and “I wanna be your cowboy sweetheart”? You can’t, simple as that.
Deeply honorable mentions to Kelela – Raven, which is sublime; to Nondi_ – Flood City Trax, which is scorching; to Kali Malone – All Life Long and Oren Ambarchi, Johan Berthlin & Andreas Werliin – Ghosted II, both of which are gorgeous; and to Julia Holter’s Something In The Room She Moves, and Aaron Cheroff’s Cobalt Core soundtrack, both of which are maximalist in totally different ways and both of which are excellent.