But in the name of combating the scourge of aesthetic atrophy, I'm obligated to traverse this course of deprivation. I'm hoping you're along for the ride and that you, too, reassess your own musical diet and, more important, your musical appetite.
What have I learned six weeks into Nothing Not New? In broad terms, I don't always need what I can get. And I'm guessing you don't, either. Recently, I noticed The Rolling Stones' Beggars Banquet beckoning me from my CD collection. But I know that record backward and forward. So, what could I possibly get out of it at this point?
Peter M. Storch
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In discussing the project with a younger friend recently, he told me his 50-year-old dad is always willing to listen to the new music his son gives him, but, invariably, Dad says, "It's okay . . . But it's not as good as ____, who did it better in 1978." Aesthetic atrophy has seemingly doomed the dude's dad.
You still may be a couple of decades away from 50, yet you've probably said something similar. Fine. The first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem.
Just because you think there will never be another Beatles or Beach Boys or Ramones or R.E.M. or Joan Jett or Jimi Hendrix doesn't mean the current artists influenced by those greats are any less, um . . . good. (You, a fan, are no more qualified to make that judgment than I, a listener, am.)
This is my lesson, six weeks in: All we can do is continue to absorb new music in a concerted effort to reflect on what it is we appreciate and don't appreciate. To reflect on our taste, or lack thereof.
It's intellectually dishonest to disavow the music created by new artists. But I do it and you do it. Hopefully, with Nothing Not New, I do it a lot less. But I've re-learned that music I can appreciate (no, like) is being created as you read this, and released every single Tuesday of the year. Are you willing to accept that fact, too? You almost have to accept it, as discomfiting as it may seem to those of us with the same 200 songs shuffling around on our iPod.
So, my challenge to you: Fight the imminent onset of aesthetic atrophy. You don't have to listen to 260 new releases this year. I'll do that for you. Instead, take those 10 tired CDs out of your car or create a new playlist on your iPod or ask your hipster friend to burn some new discs for you. I and other New Times readers want to hear what you have to say about the music you'd probably never listen to otherwise. Seriously, it's for your own good.
As they say, everyone's a critic. So don't be a critic. And you know what? Don't be a fan, either.
Just be a listener.
Adjusting the Curve
I've been grading new releases based on what I've heard this year, not on what I've adored for the past 20-plus years (because what can compete with The Stooges' Fun House, the Elvis Presley Sun sessions, or The Beatles' Revolver?). Here's how the 2010 releases stack up. You can read about each of them at www.nothingnotnew.com):
The Soft Pack: The Soft Pack (A)
Charlotte Gainsbourg: IRM (A-)
Pierced Arrows: Descending Shadows (A-)
Los Campesinos!: Romance Is Boring (B+)
Surfer Blood: Astro Coast (B+)
Eels: End Times (B+)
Priestess: Prior to the Fire (B+)
Hot Chip: One Life Stand (B+)
Juliana Hatfield: Peace & Love (B+)
Scanners: Submarine (B)
Spoon: Transference (B)
Laura Veirs: July Flame (B)
Allison Moorer: Crows (B)
You Say Party! We Say Die!: XXXX (B)
The Hot Rats: Turn Ons (B)
The Magnetic Fields: Realism (B)
Cold War Kids: Behave Yourself EP (B-)
Polysics: Absolute Polysics (C+)
Texas Tornados: Está Bueno (C+)
Joe Pug: Messengers (C)
The Brunettes: Paper Dolls (C)
Beach House: Teen Dream (C)
OK Go: Of the Colour of the Blue Sky (C)
The Watson Twins: Talking to You, Talking to Me (C)
Basia Bulat: Heart of My Own (C)
Massive Attack: Heligoland (C-)
Delphic: Acolyte (C-)
Yeasayer: Odd Blood (C-)
Vampire Weekend: Contra (D+)
Four Tet: There Is Love in You (D)
Editors: In This Light and On This Evening (D)
Midlake: The Courage of Others (F)
