Lewis and Clark Trail

Monday, September 18, 2006

27 August 2006 - On Music

I could have put this anywhere but I have been thinking about this for the last 2500 miles so...

On Music

I broke my iPod on my first full day in Washington State on an 82 mile stretch of road where you had to make the 82 miles or sleep on the side of the road. I stopped to talk to two guys doing some GPS surveying. I had seen a warning sign earlier warning of an Ecology Crew ahead and wanted to ask them if they were the Ecology Crew. They informed me what they were doing and told me that Ecology Crews pick up trash. I forgot to take my left foot out of the clips and lost my balance while talking to them and fell on the iPod. Lesson learned: always take feet off of the pedals when stopped.

The iPod functioned for about another 500 miles and then konked out for good. I was then relegated to AM/FM radio for the remainder of the trip. At the time of the iPod’s demise, I was listening on shuffle and learned some things about music. The following statements are mainly my own preferences but there are some things that I think will prove to be universal.
First. What is some of the worst music to listen to while bicycling across the United States. In the number 3 worst possible music spot: Mike and the Mechanics’ “The Living Years”. This is a song about the regrets of not communicating with your father, having him die and then not getting to tell him all the things that have been on your heart for all those living years. If you are a male, you don’t want to listen to this. Especially if you and your father did not always get along well. At number 2 we have the Eagles’ “Hotel California”. I know that classic rock pundits are now throwing their computers into the fireplace but its true. When you are traveling down the road and not absolutely sure where you will be sleeping, you don’t want to hear a ballad about a guy who checks into a demonic hotel where you can check out but you can never leave. You want a comfortable spot under a tree that is quiet with a bathroom nearby and an early start the next morning. This is NOT what you will get at the Hotel California. In the number 1, all time worst possible bicycle touring song spot: America’s “Horse With No Name”. You are basically on a steel horse (Bon Jovi knows about being a cowboy on a steel horse) because you make about the same time as you would if you were riding a horse. You don’t want to be on the horse in a desert for so long that you forget your name. Nor do you want to spend a significant amount of that time listening to the inane lyrics of this song that finds its way onto stations that play music “from the 70s, 80s, 90s and today” (imagine the voice of Don LaFontaine). What did they mean when they penned the following lyrics: “I've been through the desert on a horse with no name. It felt good to be out of the rain. In the desert, you can't remember your name 'cause there ain't no one for to give you no pain.”
Now that I have laid down the worst tracks possible, what are some things I have really enjoyed. First, from the iPod. When taking a cross country bicycle trip where one of your goals is to get in touch with the history and the landscape, there are certain artists who just naturally fit.

Johnny Cash. He rests at the very foundations of rock and roll and country at the point where these two genres parted ways (he opened for Elvis’ first tour) to the long term detriment of both. He sang ballads that dated from the experiences of the people who participated in the westward expansion that followed Lewis and Clark. Many of the songs off the “Johnny Cash Sings Ballads of the True West” album go right along with this type of trip. “The Road to Kaintuck” “The Shifting Whispering Sands” “I Ride and Old Paint” “A Letter From Home” “Mean As Hell” “Mr. Garfield” “The Blizzard” “Sweet Betsy From Pike” “Stampede” These are songs that hearken back to a time that is largely lost from the American experience. Listening to Cash’s voice as you travel through the parched landscape of western Washington somehow enriches the experience and begins to put you in the mindset of the people who first traveled the Oregon trail.
Neko Case. She has a unique voice and guitar style and is one of the few artists today who give you a hint of the soul of artists of the era of Cash, the first Hank Williams, Merle Haggard, etc. I had her album, “Fox Confessor Brings the Flood” and set the iPod on repeat for half a day of riding.

Most Sheryl Crow. She sometimes has an older country feel in her rock that makes me think of a modern version of some of the artists listed above although she does not hold a candle to Neko Case. And sometimes her music is just simply frivolous and fun. Unfortunately, she engages in lapses of judgment that cause her to undertake duets with the likes of Kid Rock.

Stevie Ray Vaughan. I am from Texas. Enough said.

Anything by Jack Johnson with the possible exception of the “Curious George” soundtrack. Jack Johnson’s lilting, easygoing guitar work is good to listen to and makes you forget about the wind and the hills and you just keep going.

Lisa Loeb. I know. You are thinking, “He is just going soft on us.” She has a nice voice and I like a lot of her lyrics. She also seems like old country sometime.

Tracy Chapman. Depressing but real. The kind of reality that is indicative of the “Old West” but updated for the modern times we live in.

Early Jewell and later Natalie Merchant. Both of these are essentially folksingers who go well with cycling through the west as they sing what are essentially ballads although Natalie Merchant’s are more closely tied to the land. The album “Motherland” is a good choice.

And of course, the soundtrack from “O Brother, Where Art Thou”. This is a great album for riding with a few exceptions. “Po Lazarus”, while a great song beautifully executed, has too plodding a rhythm for cycling. Plus, you don’t want the image of a chain gang in you head as you go. “In The Highways” by Sarah, Hannah and Leah Peasall is just too irritatingly cute for me to stand. But the rest of the album is great. Nothing beats “Big Rock Candy Mountain” as you are passing through the endless wheat fields of western Washington. “Keep On The Sunny Side” works anytime you are feeling tired. “Oh Death” sung by Ralph Stanley is profound in the middle of the Big Hole in Montana where many American military and Nez Perce Indians died in pointless warfare in 1877.

Anything from the Bare Naked Ladies mainly because “they have a good beat and are easy to bike to”.

Bitter, Bitter Weeks. Brian McTear’s wailing voice and raw guitar work just really do it for me sometimes.

Killbilly. A group I listened to (mostly live) when I was in graduate school. They played at the Dry Gulch (the now closed bar in the basement of the Union at UTA) often. Summarized at one time as “blue grass played as loud and fast as humanly possible” really works. Too bad I don’t have more of their music but I couldn’t afford CDs when in grad school.


What doesn’t work so well?

Harry Chapin. Something about the syrupy sweet, saccharine sentimentality of his music must have appealed to me when I was an undergraduate but just makes me press the forward button now. One exception: “Roses Are Red”, a song about educational philosophy.

I have to say that Billy Joel, one of my all time favorite artists just didn’t do it for me. Perhaps too self absorbed for this particular trip although there are other time in life when I can just immerse myself in his music. Maybe if I had “Songs From The Attic” on the iPod I would feel differently. But alas, I only have the vinyl.

Most of what I consider “pop”. Michelle Branch, even when teamed up with Carlos Santana, just made me want to toss my trail mix. As a matter of fact, I found myself in a pretty bad state of affairs when the iPod finally died because I was stuck with FM radio. Most “Top 40” stations were just terrible (I typically listen to NPR when at home). Any station that is attempting to be “all things to all people” is probably going to be bad (nothing against the Apostle Paul). Beaver 98 (yes, a real radio station out of Dillon, Montana) is a classic example. Because it is the only radio station within about 90 miles, it bills itself as country but lays a wide variety of country (and by this I mean cross-over country) and pop so that, at any given moment, you are offending 50% of the population that will be leased with the next selection while piss off the half that was pleased a moment ago. The only reason anyone listens to this must be that there really is no other choice. At one point I actually tuned in to an AM station that had a show called “Agri-Talk” where they were discussing whether certain breeds of dogs were truly more aggressive than others with a real veterinarian. It was better than anything else on the dial and that is saying something. Any station that claims to play music from 3 or more decades should also be avoided.

I was also struck by the apparent proliferation of Christian radio stations. There were some sections of North Dakota where five stations were available and four of them were Christian and the other was new country. Back to Agri-Talk!

One bright spot on the music scene. When I got to Pierre, South Dakota (state motto: Carved mountains; No cell phone coverage), I ate a Mad Mary’s Steak House and they were playing country from the 50s, 60s and early 70s and I felt like I was back in the 1969 Ford Pickup listening to my dad’s 8 tracks. I talked to my dad that night and we talked about, among other things, the plight of country music. He always thought that the good old days were not all that good, except where country music was concerned. One point on which we always agreed.