It's still October, so it can't possibly be time for the September hypothetical mixtape. And yet.
The Notekillers, "Clock Wise". A few years ago, I did some volunteer work with Melbourne radio station 3PBS (if WFMU did not exist, PBS might lay some claim to being the best radio station in the world; seriously). Anyway, one of the presenters was a mild-mannered bank manager, always neat and tidy, dressed in suit and tie. The only hint that something was amiss was a pair of razor-sharp sideburns. This guy, it turns out, was the presenter of a heavy metal show called something like "The Red Stink of Metal". Who knew? But a couple of years prior to this, I might have been that guy. There I was, living in a country town, working as a solicitor, suit and tie, etc, going home at night to a diet of loud, heavy guitars. Big Black. Husker Du. Feedtime. Sonic Youth. Band of Susans. Ut. Dinosaur Jr. Minutemen. And if it wasn't guitars it was industrial noise. Einsturzende Neubauten, for example. Or John Zorn's headkicking Ornette Coleman "tribute" "Spy Vs Spy". Yes, that was me. (One of the highlights of those years was finding on the doorstep a parcel of records airmailed from a certain Doctor Jim, who was then on a world tour and, I suppose, figured that someone might as well be listening to his stash while he remained o/s.) Again, who knew? (Before long, Adrienne was quick to disabuse me of the notion that music had to be in some way unpleasant or "difficult" to be worthy of attention; one only of the many things for which I am eterally grateful to her.) Point? Oh yes, The Notekillers, of whom I had no knowledge at all until a couple of tracks appeared on the wonderful Art Decade, would have fitted perfectly into my listening schedule. So perfectly that I feel I owe them an apology: where was I when they needed me?
Junior Senior, "Move Your Feet". The moral of that story being, I can now happily jump around the house to songs like this. I think that makes me a better, more well-rounded person. Or a sad, pathetic sell-out.
Sergio Mendes and Brasil 66, "Scarborough Fair". And yet, even through those dark and twisted days, the magic of op-shop records was always there. This version of a song I have long deemed unlistenable is gorgeous, up there with their version of "My Favourite Things", which Adrienne says outdoes even Coltrane, and in my weaker moments I can almost agree.
Cibo Matto, "Sugar Water (Acoustic)". To paraphrase the very wise Roy Slaven and H G Nelson, too many versions of this song are barely enough.
Milton Nascimento and Lo Borges, "Tudo Que Voce Podia Ser". It must be time for a Brazilian. Or two.
Gimmicks, "California My Way". Perfect for the approaching antipodean summer, which looks like being long and hot.
Reigning Sound, "When You Touch Me". Loud fast rules.
The Come Ons, "Keep The Change". I love (a) the organ and (b) the album title ("Hip Check") and (c) the album cover. Oh, and the guitar. Plus the fact that they have put out a seven-inch single entitled "Play Selections From The Françoise Hardy Songbook".
The Professionals, "Theme From The Godfather". This may be the greatest four minutes of music I have ever heard. And (obviously) I am not even exaggerating.
Belbury Poly, "Tangled Beams". So this is Hauntology? It reminds me of Broadcast, actually. They probably frequent the same library.
Hanne Hukkelberg, "Do Not As I Do". It wouldn't be a hypothetical mixtape without some warm and friendly Scandinavian pop.
Rheingold, "DreiKlangsDimensionen". Not exactly krautrock, but not exactly not krautrock, I am guessing this is of the genre known as NDV. It must be from the end of the seventies. But I don't know and I don't really care. It's stunning.
Seelenluft, "Horse With No Name". Ooh look, another song that by rights should have gone to the knackers' yard long ago. But here it is, stripped of its America(n)ness, and I could happily listen to it all day. The guy who wrote this song was on Spicks and Specks not so long ago. He seemed like a nice chap.
The Memory Band, "This Is How We Walk On The Moon". It's an Arthur Russell song. Do I need to say anything more? I suppose, if you needed a reference point, you might think Four Tet plus a violin. If you had to.
Amorphous Androgynous, "Go Tell It To The Trees Egghead". This is what "Astral Weeks" might have sounded like if it didn't have Van Morrison wailing away over the top of it and generally getting in the way. (Obviously, I don't mean that at all.) Curiously, Amorphous Androgynous is actually Future Sound Of London, whom I have long felt I should get to know a bit better.
Mouse On Mars, "Schnick-schnack". And a little voice said, "That sounds like her from Stereolab". And so it came to pass, presumably done as a payback for the work MOM did with Stereolab on "Dots and Loops", still I think my favourite Stereolab record, even in the face of fierce competition from almost any other Stereolab record.
Beck, "Cellphone's Dead (Villalobos Entlebuch Remix)". Ricardo Villalobos does this interesting trick with time. Take this song. At around the five minute mark you start to think, Okay, I'm about done with this. And then, before you know it, 12 minutes have passed, and you find that you have gone to another place and back again. Without even noticing. And it happens every time. I don't know how he does it.
