First, it was a 45 RPM player and music was by the song. Then, an LP stereo (and later numerous CD players) and music was by the album. Then, this decade, five convenient (if not durable) MP3 players with music by the track, often incoherently ordered. Finally, in the last year or so, 2 iPod Nano's with less capacity, meaning I have to pro-actively select what to load. So, for "semipop," it's by artist and for classical (and fledgling descendants), it's by composer.
So, allow me to log what I am mostly listening to at the moment:
- Miles Davis. Still obsessing by electric Miles Davis circa 1967-72.
- Aaron Copland. I'm streaming all my tracks at work, in composer order as well, and am just about finished with Aaron. Prior to that was the music of '"3-D" Del Naja/"Daddy G." Marshall/"Mushroom" Vowles"' and then "Blue" Gene Tyranny. Character sort order introduction here.
- John Cage. Tim Page's disparaging comment about 4' 33" spurred me to resume listening to more Cage.
- Anton Webern. Earlier this summer, I listened to all the music I had of the prolific Alan Hovhaness. Taking on a more concise composer seemed like a good idea although it's hard to hear Pollini play Webern when I'm on the train.
- Red Sparrowes. Vocal-less rock.
- Donald Swearingen. This is just one CD because I can't find any more music by him.
- James Tenney. A refresh after his recent passing.
- Roy Harris. The opening to the Third Symphony is a favorite but is anything else even remotely as good?
- Elie Siegmeister. Recently, his daughter commented on my post mentioning her father's 1938 writing.
- Frank Zappa's Dog Breath. If it's good enough for an Iranian symphony...
- David Grubbs. A recent Wire Magazine CD had a good track so I bought more on my last Amoeba/Aquarius tour. More rockish than I was expecting.
- Super Numeri. I think of this when I think of Red Sparrowes.
- Manu Chao. Mariam and Amadou's producer but not as rewarding.
- Fennesz. An emusic download from last month.
Also, I just finished Garbage Land: On the Secret Trail of Trash where the Brooklyn author follows the route of all that her family discards. Yikes. Now what to do about my collection of dead MP3 players...
last.fm: what i really listen to, at least when i am tethered to a computer



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