the island, part 0: out here where our dreams take form

This post was supposed to be a lot of other things. I have a lot of half-baked or over-cooked things to write about, but I find as I approach them I get either blocked or rambling, “losing control of the language”, to quote from an album I will be discussing in great detail in the next sixteen weeks. And I wonder what I’m doing writing here, what I have to say, what is waiting to give birth, as Carlos put it in wonderful prose that I understand but can’t explain.

And then this week in the mail a long-delayed Amazon package arrived, including a number of discs championed by folks here (Etran Finatawa and Jesu in particular), two DVD box sets (Teshigahara and Jodorowsky), and two books, one Joan Didion and the last that’s relevant to this post, a book called MAROONED. It’s a compilation of essays by various writers about the disc that they would take to a desert island with them, a follow-up to an older book I haven’t read called STRANDED.

And so, I’ve decided to write about my desert island disc. Specifically, I’m going to write each week about a track on it. This will take sixteen weeks, assuming that I don’t have pressing things to write about. (Considering I’m seeing The Editors, Bloc Party, and Bob Dylan with The Frames opening, I might have other things to write next week.)

The desert island disc that immediately came to mind is FULL FORCE GALESBURG, by The Mountain Goats. Why? Not just because John Darnielle wrote an essay in MAROONED (which I haven’t read yet). And not at all because it’s my favorite album – a few that I esteem more would include BLUE TRAIN, DOUBLE NICKELS ON THE DIME, IN THE AEROPLANE OVER THE SEA, THE EARTH IS NOT A COLD DEAD PLACE, and Joel R.L. Phelps’ BLACKBIRD, possibly the most overlooked album in the history of recorded music. I’m not even sure it’s the best Mountain Goats album – ALL HAIL WEST TEXAS, TALLAHASSEE, and THE SUNSET TREE are all strong contenders in that race.

So, why, then? I suppose because when I think of being alone on a desert island, and what I know of my own character being alone, I would want a record that would remind me what it’s like to be in civilization, on that day when I am hopefully rescued. A record that keeps me as sane and as human as possible, no matter how long my beard gets or how accustomed to wandering around naked I become.

And FULL FORCE GALESBURG is a meditation on domesticity, belonging, the geography of the United States, the subterranean emotional landscape of relationships, and the births and deaths of hopes and dreams. And while no record contains everything, I feel like it contains enough, as much as one can hope for to stay connected to the world while fully isolated. And I’ve listened to it hundreds of times, but I still miss details, and while at some point it may give up all its mysteries, I imagine that it has as much to offer as any album I already know I love.

A fuller explanation will come over the next sixteen weeks.

P.S. I’m agonizing over the question of whether to include the corresponding track from FULL FORCE GALESBURG each week on the Podcast or not. On the one hand, it’d be nice for people to hear what I’m talking about; on the other hand, sixteen weeks of Mountain Goats may kill everybody who doesn’t share my affinity. (Although it can’t be worse than fucking Steely Dan, a band of which John Darnielle is a big fan of, as it happens.) Vote in the comments.

As an appendix each week, for those of you who could give two shits about The Mountain Goats, I’ll include a video of one of my favorite bands, a band whose music would be going through my head on the frequent times on this island where I have no music playing, can’t stand to hear that music anymore, and think back to the various earth-shattering live music events I’ve been privileged to see. I meant to write a meditation on what live music meant and why it was important, but it devolved into a YouTube link fest, so I’ll just leave it as what it should be: an excuse to see performers that, for some reason or another, astonished me.

This week: A collection of Boredoms live performance from the mid-90′s, before they became a Krautrock band. One of my favorite memories of live music is standing in the front row when they played Emo’s, getting repeatedly whacked in the face by Eye’s microphone, and just basking in the blow. I can still picture Kyle and HK’s faces after the show, fully gobsmacked.