Saturday Music Blog: Spoon
I discovered Spoon via “Stranger than Fiction,” a much underrated and overlooked little movie, in my opinion, with an excellent soundtrack. (There ya go, J Perry. Another soundtrack I can recommend.) What was great was that, when I went to check them out further, I found this very aptly titled CD, “Gimme Fiction,” and thought, “Finally. A musical group for people who also love the written word.”
I had no idea. Their lyrics are wonderful, and the music accompanying them is outstanding. Which is only fitting for an indie band out of Austin, Texas, a city that’s spawned A LOT of good bands. Their sound is probably best classified as rock, but it’s not the hard-driving kind of rock that makes you dance and drive fast. It’s the kind that’s enjoyable to listen to, the kind you walk away from feeling better for having heard it. There’s some acoustic guitar, some electric guitar, some piano. And lead singer Britt Daniel has a voice that is at times dreamy, weary, breezy, and angry. If I have to compare them to someone, I’d probably choose…
Hmm. That’s interesting. I can’t really think of anyone to compare them to. I hear a lot of different stuff when I listen to “Gimme Fiction.” I hear a little of the Beatles during their “Yellow Submarine” phase. I hear a little Randy Newman. I hear a little Prince. Mostly I hear something that is distinctly theirs. The sound is just very, very, VERY cool.
Let me put it this way. The other day, we had rain, and by evening, the temperature had dropped just below 70. It was cloudy and damp and misty and cool when I decided to take my evening walk. Since my son didn’t want to come this time, I took my iPod and dialed to a playlist I call “Cool,” which is full of music I find really moody and atmospheric, perfect for this sort of weather. About the time I topped a hill in one neighborhood full of lush trees and a hilly green golf course, the Spoon segment kicked in with “My Mathematical Mind,” which is on this CD. The setting was almost surreally quiet and the sky was thick and gray, but the music was forceful and pneumatic, and the singer adamant. And I swear, I suddenly felt like I had been dropped into a movie right at the part where the protagonist is having his/her epiphany and deciding things are going to change. Then I heard these lyrics:
“My mathematical mind can see the breaks
so I’m gonna stop riding the brakes
no more riding the brakes.”
And it made me smile, because I’m at a real turning point in my career at the moment where a lot is changing, and there’s a lot of potential, and I think that’s been scaring me and making me hesitate in some ways. But at that point, something kind of clicked inside, and I thought, “Yeah. This is going to work out well. It’s a Good Thing. No more riding the brakes.”
So there you have it. The Spoon experience. Gray skies and a solitary walk made glowing and extraordinary just by the injection of the right music. I mentioned the other day that I have a playlist on my iPod, too, called “The Movie of My Life.” You can bet there’s a lot of Spoon on that soundtrack.