Musical Archeology

I recently discovered a relatively obscure (at least nationally) band called "The Decemberists" and an eagerly starting to trek through their back catalog. It was complete randomness. I heard a catchy ditty while browsing at Borders, of all places. When I got home, I wanted to look up the song I head heard. Sure I could have actually asked at Borders, but I like doing things the hard way. The only lyric I remember was something with the word "priory" and a few minutes of googling combined with a couple sample listens at the Apple music store allowed me to strike paydirt. Thus, "The Mariners Revenge Song" has launched a new musical ship. This is kind of unique for me, because my musical tastes are about as conservative as Sam Alito's judicial opinions. I don't mean "conservative" politically, it more that I am not an eager seeker of new music. I have a few dozen artists I really like and that is generally all I really listen to. I am a musical homebody.

My attachment to the artists I enjoy, though, is intense. I usually will go through the artist's entire catalog, and for some, download numerous bootleg concerts. The rare discovery of a new artist is noteworthy enough that it is the hook upon which I am hanging this blog entry. Most of who I listen to have been recommended by friends, those who boldly trod the landscape as pioneers before coming back for me. As I was pondering this post, I thought it would be interesting to think back and figure out who really introduced me to the artists that I really enjoy, and figure out how many I truly discovered completely by myself.

If music can be compared to a religion, then an old friend of mine named Phill is Abraham and Moses wrapped into one. Back in the distant, hazy past of high school and college, he was responsible for foisting such heavy hitters as R.E.M., Rush, Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Pink Floyd, and Janes Addiction upon me. Other friends were less prodigious, but each one has gifted me one great artist: Greg, Tom Petty. Jeff, Neil Young. Dean, U2.

A special mention must be made of my husband, Dave, who has managed to get me into two artists who could not be more dissimilar: The Pet Shop Boys (faggy euro-pop) and the Klezmatics (Jewish roots music). We both also enjoy the Indigo Girls, even though neither of us is a lesbian, last time I checked. But the Indigo Girls, like the aforementioned Decemberists, is one of those rare bands which I am pretty sure I discovered myself. Only a few artists share that distinction. In fact, off the top of my head I can think of only two more: Johnny Cash and the Clash.

For everyone else, that's why I have friends.