Sci-Fi Hi-Fi

Today’s announcement of iTunes 5’s “folders” feature and the relatively small capacity iPod nano reminded me of something that I’ve been meaning to write about for a long time: my iPod management scheme. I’ve long been convinced, you see, that the iPod mini is (now was, sadly) the finest iPod Apple has ever released, yet I’ve got far more music than I could ever fit on mine at one time. Fortunately, I’ve developed a very effective scheme to help me choose what music stays on my iPod while still ensuring a steady diet of fresh content.

There’s definitely some distinguished prior art in the limited size iPod management field, ranging from Bill Bumgarner’s old random sampling method to Willo O’Brien’s more interactive multiple smart playlist method. My own approach is similar in spirit to Willo’s (which involves automatically syncing both a playlist containing checked songs and a playlist containing recently added songs), but it’s based more directly on actual listening patterns. I’ll call it the journaling method.

Here’s how it works:

1. Create a playlist called “iPod sync” (or something to that effect), and set iTunes to automatically sync it to the iPod.
2. As you get new music, add it to the iPod sync playlist manually. Usually I just drag whole albums in there.
3. Every month, compile a “Favorites” playlist containing the 10 or 12 songs you most enjoyed that month. I usually give priority to that month’s new music, although I try to simply make the list reflect whatever songs I really am enjoying. It may help to use On-the-Go Playlists created on your iPod as a sort of listening journal to remind you of what you were listening to at specific times (as you can see in this screenshot, I generate lots of them) and help you compile the final list. Lastly, you may also want to compile a yearly list of overall favorites, based on the results of your various monthly favorites lists.
4. As you create them, add your favorites lists to the list of playlists iTunes automatically syncs to the iPod.
5. As you get tired of old albums or start to run out of room for new albums on your iPod, begin to remove older music from your iPod sync playlist.

The beauty of this scheme, in a nutshell, is that it allows you to cull large swaths of old stuff from your iPod, while still ensuring that your absolute favorite songs stay on. Even though you may remove an entire album from the iPod sync playlist, your favorite songs from it won’t disappear because they’ll be present in the other playlist that get synced to your iPod (the favorites lists). And that’s a comforting thought.

Of course, like the other methodologies I mentioned, this scheme won’t work for everyone. It happens to suit me well because, first, I tend to be song rather than album-oriented (I subscribe–with a big grain of salt, of course–to the Phil Spector definition of most albums as 3 singles and 7 pieces of shit); second, because I’m incredibly fastidious and (as the British say) anorakish when it comes to music listening; and, third, because (like Jason Goldman in his excellent post on the subject) I tend to develop powerful enough associations between songs and times and places that keeping a sort of music journal is attractive to me.

Whatever the case, hopefully at least a few other music nerds out there will find this a helpful solution to their iPod mini or nano woes. I’d be curious to hear about other peoples’ novel solutions to the same problem…

Normally I tend to scoff at those meme things where people ask you to fill out a little questionnaire on your weblog, but recently there’s been a strain going around that appears to be so virulent I was beginning to feel left out. Fortunately, Brent Simmons passed it to me, so I’m finally free to hold forth on my musical taste.

Here we go (apologies for the length–I feel like writing about music right now)…

Total volume of music files on my computer

30.54 GB.

This is actually deceptively low, since I used to only rip the songs I liked off CDs.

The last CD I bought

Waiting for the Sirens’ Call, by New Order.

As some of you might have guessed from my karaoke repertoire, I dearly, dearly love New Order. Their latest album certainly isn’t the best work they’ve ever done, but it has its moments–particularly the title track (produced by John Leckie, the man behind The Stone Roses’ seminal eponymous album, and featuring a guitar tone I would kill to replicate) and “Turn” (an emotional ballad I could easily hear Morrissey warbling).

Song playing right now

At the moment I read Brent’s post, I had just finished walking up Haight Street while listening to …And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead’s album Worlds Apart. The particular song was, I believe, “Worlds Apart,” Trail of Dead’s manifesto-like screed about the sorry state of American culture. It’s one of the few songs I can think of that I would describe as “infectiously angry.” The sneering lyrics (”and the soccer moms and dads who raise brats on those TV ads, I know that they sleep at night”) roll along against such a catchy, upbeat musical backdrop that you can’t help but sneer right along.

Incidentally, if you ever get a chance to see Trail of Dead live, do it. I saw them once, before they were as big as they are now, at a little dive called the 15th Street Tavern in Denver. They had such a reputation for crazy behavior (they’ve been thrown out of towns in their native Texas before) that the small audience sat there on edge just waiting for them to throw something. Sure enough, my friend actually got hit by a drum stick! My brother Bobby just saw them in Denver, and during that performance they threw cake into the crowd (for the singer’s birthday) and invited everyone on stage to dance for the finale! You can bet I’ll be seeing them at The Fillmore later in the month!

Five songs I listen to a lot, or mean a lot to me

Here’s five songs I’m really into these days:

“The Perfect Kiss,” New Order
During their gloomy 1980s heyday, New Order was once described as “the world’s bleakest disco act,” and songs like this, from their 1985 album Low-Life, show why. The listener’s initial perception of the track as an upbeat dance number is quickly challenged by lyrics (”pretending not to see his gun, I said let’s go out and have some fun”) that hint darkly at a friend’s (Ian Curtis’?) contemplation of suicide, and it finally dissipates completely during the song’s stormy climax.

This song may sound like a rather melancholy selection on my part, but as someone who periodically struggles with bouts of depression, I can tell you this song resonates with me to deeply. What I respond to about it (and the entire Low Life album really) is that it recognizes the sadness and alienation that so many people feel, while never quite giving up hope that love can conquer all. Plus, it’s got some really cool percussion at the end.

“Pacific Theme,” Broken Social Scene
This instrumental, which sounds to me like New Order jamming with the Fairport Convention on a Burt Bacharach composition, fairly screams California to me. I love listening to it while driving to work on one of America’s greatest highways, Interstate 280 (try turning down the volume and listen to this song while watching this movie, and you’ll get a sense of the experience). It should make a wonderful soundtrack for my drive down to LA next month.

“Quattro (World Drifts In),” Calexico
I’m a real sucker for atmosphere, and this song has it in spades. It perfectly captures the feel of the twilight hours of the day, and I love to play it while taking sunset walks through the trees at Buena Vista Park.

“Gold in the Air of Summer,” Kings of Convenience
Perhaps I’m showing my age, but I’m increasingly finding the JAMC-loving rocker in me developing a taste for the kind of acoustic folk my parents used to enjoy. This is quite simply a beautiful song, full of poignant remembrance of things past and a hint of regret, all distilled through a simple description of a house. It’s amazing how music can add so much emotional punch to such simple words.

“Secret Meeting,” The National
I’m a person who constantly has to fight a tendency toward shy introversion, so I really love singer Matt Berninger’s haggard-sounding apology in the opening track on The National’s wonderful new album: “I’m sorry I missed you–I had a secret meeting in the basement of my brain.” The manic, chant-like background vocals under the chorus parts also make for rather an interesting rhythmic dynamic that I quite enjoy.

Five people to whom I’m passing this baton (sorry guys):

• Ethan Bold, who has actually seen Wesley Willis in concert!
• Mike Merrill, who is a very sharp dresser, so he must have equally good taste in music
• Courtney Patubo, who must be up on what the kids like these days since she went to Coachella
• Elke Sisco, who likes a lot of the same music I do
• Daniel Wilson, our resident “Jazz Nerd”

(Update: I listened to a playlist containing all of the songs mentioned in this post on the way to work today, and liked it so much that I decided to publish it as an iMix.)

I just came to a sad, iTMS-induced realization today: L.L. Cool J’s “Mama Said Knock You Out” may not be quite the brilliant song I remember from junior high school. The same appears to be true of Bel Biv DeVoe’s “Poison” and Bobby Brown’s “On Our Own.” I guess it’s true what they say: you can’t go home again.

In keeping with last year’s precedent, I’ve been working hard on my response to Rich’s “End of the Year Mix CD Challenge” for over a month now. I think I’ve finally managed to get the sequencing and song selection just right, although I did have to completely leave out one of 2004’s most significant releases: Brian Wilson’s “Smile” (it has too many songs the flow into one another, and didn’t really match the rest of the material well enough).

Interestingly, this year all but 4 of my selections are available on the US iTunes Music Store, so I also decided to make the playlist available as an iMix (if you’re able to use the UK iTMS, I would bet that you’ll also be able to get three of the four remaining songs as well).

See below for a track listing and notes.

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I got an email from my web host today alerting me that I used 25 GB of bandwidth yesterday, which is unfortunate because my monthly allowance is only 144 GB. At my current rate, I’ll be at 335% of my allowance by the end of this billing cycle. So, I’ve reluctantly had to remove the Beatles Christmas MP3s until I can figure out a way to continue providing that service without breaking the bank. If anybody would like to host a mirror, let me know!

It’s actually the oldest extant page on my site, and I’ve pointed it out before, but since it’s recently made Boing Boing, the J-Walk Blog, del.icio.us popular links, the Waxy.org Links, and a staggering number of other weblogs, I guess it’s safe to finally declare my Beatles Christmas Records page a full-fledged Interweb meme. If you’ve never listened to these MP3s, which I made from my old boss’s fan club records, I highly recommend checking them out. They’re utterly irreverent and absolutely hilarious—a perfect antidote to Christmas music burnout.

Well, once again Christmas is upon us, and here at Sci-Fi Hi-Fi, that can only mean one thing: it’s time to give my collection of Beatles Christmas MP3s their yearly playing! This year should be extra special, however, because (thanks to the generosity of reader Tony Deluca) I’ve finally been able to add the 1968 and 1969 editions to my collection. If you’ve already downloaded the 1963-1967 recordings from me, make sure to visit my updated Beatles page and complete your set. If you haven’t heard them yet, check them out—they’re hilarious!

One of the things I’ve noticed about myself is that often the music I end up liking best isn’t music that immediately appeals to me. The new Wilco album, A Ghost Is Born, is a case in point. Unlike Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, which I found to be instantly accessible and endlessly playable, I initially thought of A Ghost is Born as a bit of a letdown. Now that I’ve been a patient listener, however, and really tried to “get” the music rather than expecting an instant, visceral fix, I’m finding it rewarding on a much deeper emotional level.

My favorite track on the album so far is a spare, downbeat, piano-driven song called “Hell Is Chrome.” It sounds like a fairly unremarkable track—until you begin to listen to the lyrics, which describe the songwriter’s encounter with the devil (who is not red, as is popularly imagined, but rather chrome) and his subsequent introduction to a hell that is more a state of eternal numbness than physical torment. Once you ponder this, the song’s deflationary, Lou Reed-esque dynamics make perfect sense, and, in fact, serve to place you effectively in the songwriter’s frame of mind.

The best phrase I can come up with to describe this process is that I begin to understand a song’s “logic.” Sometimes it takes some work to get there, but it’s usually worth the effort.

I’m not usually one to rave about television commercials, and I know it may sound a bit corny of me to say this, and I’m well aware I run the risk of being branded a corporate tool, but I find those new Hewlett Packard commercials featuring The Cure’s “Pictures of You” highly affecting. Between that $300 million campaign and the stunning iPod deal, it would appear that everyone’s favorite group of slide-rule toting engineers is making a bold bid to (re)invent itself. The amazing thing is, given their recent moves, I can actually start to imagine them pulling it off (although, as much as I like the commercials, I would have to warn the HP execs that The Cure is probably not the ideal band for courting the youth demographic nowadays)!

I’ve been meaning to try my hand at music criticism on this site for some time, but every time I get excited enough to sit down and actually write something, I’m poignantly reminded of the old chestnut that “writing about music is like dancing about architecture” (which I was going to attribute to Lester Bangs until I found this).

Fortunately, Rich Thomas, one the regulars at the monthly South Bay Blogger meetups I attend, finally gave me the pretense I needed to get down to business when he challenged readers of his weblog to create a Best of 2003 compilation CD. Here’s my track listing, with annotations…

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