See more year-end selections from Trial & Error Collective here.
Every year I use this space to talk about how there’s too much good music. It’s true. There is.
Out of all the new music released in 2020, I listened to 10+ classical albums, 150+ electronic albums, 10+ folk albums, 15+ hip hop albums, 15+ jazz albums, 20+ pop albums, 30+ R&B albums, 70+ rock albums, and something like a thousand singles.
I’m subscribed to Spotify and Apple Music. I buy mp3s from Amazon, Beatport, Tidal, and several other digital music marketplaces. Thanks to Bandcamp Fridays, I was able to directly support artists that in a regular year I would’ve…
This post first appeared on Trial & Error Collective in Sep 2016.
Standards, boundaries, and definitions are how we as humans mentally categorize different kinds of music (rock vs electronic, dance vs chill, etc). The most significant divider we use has to be that imaginary line separating the “good” music from the “bad” — but what happens when the line refuses to stand still? This piece is a personal reflection on how one individual kept seeing the line drifting, so he gave up on it entirely.
Anyone with an appreciation for art knows the feeling. There’s a new TV show, movie, or song, and everyone adores it but you. And then, eventually…
California was freezing. Or we were just shocked after a month in the desert.
We had started the day in Minden, NV (elevation 4,724 feet, temperatures high as 81°F), crossed the border, and climbed 19 miles to the Kit Carson Campground at nearly 7,000 feet. Massive clouds drifted northeast at astonishing speeds — as they do at higher altitudes — driven by 20 MPH gusts winding through the pine trees and aspen leaves. After the campground host took our fee, he informed us that we’d be receiving a “light dusting” of snow overnight. …
And then there were two. Man and woman. Bathed. Naked. Refreshed. Tits flopping, bellies full of elk and cow, brains TV-addled. Clothes laundered and half-folded, tent gear hung and drying. Nails clipped, route confirmed.
A hundred miles to Grand Junction, a thousand miles from home.
After saying goodbye to our friend who’d flown out from San Francisco to join four days of the trail, we spent the night recharging at the Rodeway Inn in Glenwood Springs, near the western end of the Rocky Mountains. The next morning, we walked south through town and then west into the White River National…
A travel journal of our experience backpacking the Boston Mountains segment of the Ozark Highlands Trail (OHT) in Arkansas.
It was Christmas, but the airport was not holy. As midnight approached, crowds jostled through security only to discover every restaurant closed on the other side. We were among the lucky ones who ransacked a closing corner shop for dinner: two hard-boiled eggs and a charcuterie platter for Natalie, black cherry yogurt and edamame-flavored corn chips for myself.
The red eye into Chicago went by relatively quickly, thanks to an endless series of naps in an endless variety of uncomfortable positions. We landed at 0558.
Couple hours at ORD, couple servings of oatmeal, and we boarded the 50-person plane to…
See more year-end selections from the collective here.
Every day there’s something new to hear. The link from a friend. The streaming service playlist. The opening band. The coworker’s suggestion. The bandmate’s new favorite. The soundtrack to that film. And on and on.
There simply isn’t enough time to listen to everything.
Would it even be worth it to try? Would it be healthy to listen to so much music? Like I’m at a holiday feast trying to consume as much meat, veggies, bread, sauce, and booze as possible before falling asleep or vomiting? Not just to be full, but also so I can say I tasted everything?
…
The bed was soft. Soft yet firm, expansive, and white as snow. Decked with clean sheets and a fluffy comforter, the mattress stood four feet off the ground in the basement of the stranger’s house. A mirror hung directly above it. Whips hung from the walls. Chains. Leather. Hooks. Ball gags. Furry tails. And the cherry on top, a dozen LED candles glowing orange around the room.
It would end up being the most comfortable bed we slept in across America — and possibly the best bed we’d ever sleep in, period. How did we get here?
We had spent…
“Through gathering air God sent storm clouds and rain,
Thunder that shakes the heart.”
Book 1, Metamorphoses, Ovid, translated by Horace Gregory.
Drip…
Drip, drip…
Drip, drip, drip, drop, dripdropdripordropdrodpdoidropdoroid…
Thus began what was to shape up as a four-day thunderstorm across most of the middle U.S. — severest near Kentucky and Missouri but, so I’d hoped, not as bad in our wild, wonderful slice of West Virginia.
The day after Easter, we began walking on the North Bend Rail Trail, a 72-mile stretch of trail (like the C&O behind us and the Katy ahead) built over what was once…
See more year-end selections from the collective here.
Music today shines like the sun. There are days you’re walking to work when a friend texts you “look up,” and you do, and you reply back, “wow, I’ve never seen such a shade of blue.” Sometimes you’re with your coworkers or family, and you all happen to agree the weather is perfect. Occasionally, you catch a sunset, and its beauty staggers you. Maybe you even schedule time to revisit that same spot, but the sunset changes each time. Maybe it’s never as magical as the first time, or maybe it gets better and better and better. …
This post first appeared on Trial & Error Collective in July 2018.
Five years ago Daft Punk released the most ambitious album of their career: Random Access Memories. A resounding critical and commercial success, the album marked a stark departure from house music, French touch, and minimalism, the stylistic elements most commonly associated with the electronic music duo. Instead, from the album’s marketing campaigns to the music itself, RAM was a monumental effort by Daft Punk to pay tribute to the golden era of American disco.
And it seemed to have everything:
Industry perspective. Almost a visceral reaction to the digital excesses of electronic dance music (EDM) — a revolution that Daft…
ronny
“California ain’t the whole world.”
