Singles Remind Me of Kisses, Albums Remind Me of Plans

Lisa tagged me for a 20 Albums meme -- be careful what you wish for. Some people say that smell is your most evocative sense, but that's got the pong of fish about it, if you ask me. A particular record -- or even just certain sounds on a record (see no. 6) -- seems much to attach far more firmly to a place and time than anything else I know. This is not a complete list, which jumps over some important (Faithless Street?) records of the 1990's, but only to include the more powerfully evocative records of my teenage years and to make a space for recent history. The years listed are meant to suggest a particular time span, and may not be releated -- and in fact may predate -- the actual release date of the record. (A list of twenty songs, by the way, would be totally different, and would probably have few intersections with an album list.)

1. c1979 – The Beatles, “Abbey Road.” I listened to them all, on my Sears turntable, but I listened over and over to Side Two, as the songs there blended together without ever finishing. See 1982 and 1989.
   


2. 1982 – The Clash, “Combat Rock.” I heard “Should I Stay or Should I Go” on pop radio. I recall listening and re-listening to the weird and spooky Side Two with Adam Spangler in my Grandparents’ place in Lake Geneva, WI.
   


3. 1984 – Motley Crue, “Shout At The Devil.” My freshman year in high school, I tried hard to join the metal crowd. I joined the Record of the Month Club, and received in the mail 14 vinyl records featuring Ratt, Twisted Sister, Crue, Ozzy, Dio but the music never stuck with me. I listened to Dire Straits and Phil Collins in secret, and my army jacket never fit right, and I kept chewing my painted fingernails. I learned, that year, the cost of the pose. I had pop sensibilities.
   


4. 1986 – Paul Simon, “Graceland.” A big chunky off-brand Walkman and a 10-speed bicycle, along the bluff above what the Violent Femmes would later call "that ugly lake."
   


5. 1987 – Squeeze, “Singles 45 and Under.” I don’t think there’s a person I know who does not have this record. I still remember the shampoo smell of the girl all these songs were about.
   


6. 1987 – Red Hot Chili Peppers, “The Uplift Mofo Party Plan.” So as to hit upon the Fishbone/Two-Tone/Wild Kingdom years. EMI cassettes, in that era, had a set of tones at the start and at the end of each side of the cassette, a little intro- and outro- to listen to in the dark, wearing foamy headphones, while awaiting the auto-reverse.
   


7. 1988 – Elvis Costello, “King of America.” The perfect soundtrack by which to realize that neither teenage girls nor American foreign policy are as good and true as you’d want them to be
   


8. 1989 – Elvis Costello, “Spike.” The first time I awaited a record release date. Bought the cassette in a record store in Des Moines, IA, where I was slowing maxing out my first credit card. It was a clear plastic tape, and you could fold out the insert to read all the lyrics.
   


9. 1989 – Beastie Boys, “Paul’s Boutique.” Patti Cooper’s Mazda, shouting out “Hey Ladies.” To the ladies. Sorry for your egged car, and your missing hood ornament. The fire extinguisher was Dave's.
   


10. 1990 – Beats International, “Let Them Eat Bingo.” I bought this on a whim. The bassist from the Housemartins, ska trumpet, Billy Bragg, the baseline from “Guns of Brixton:” secrets kept falling out of it.
    


11. 1994 – Elvis Costello, “Brutal Youth.” Behind the candy counter at the Downer Theatre, Jerome shouts “What is your destiny the p’licewoman said,” and Jeff and I respond: “20% Amnesia.” Pulp Fiction flickers in and out.
    


12. 1996 – Soul Coughing, “Ruby Vroom.” Boston, Massachusetts. Downtown Crossing. Browsing the HMV record store, almost every day, in the hour between the end of my office tower job and the start of art school.
    


13. 2000 – The Handsome Family, “Milk and Scissors.” I probably bought this record based on a Bloodshot Records compilation, and because it had a song titled “Lake Geneva.” It changed the way I thought about American music.
    


14. 2002 – Bob Dylan, “Love and Theft." A record –released on 9/11/01 -- about race, floods, and the Missisippi River that I listened to while working on a novel about race, floods, and the Mississippi River. This record read my mind.
    


15. 2002 – Mike Doughty, “Skittish.” A near-bootleg record that came to me in the mail in a plain white sleeve. I was on the verge of academic and romantic breakthrough, and it all crashed. It seemed to me that if I listened to this record enough, I’d be okay again. Crossing the train tracks in Somerville, MA.
    


16. 2004 – Chris Elliott, “UFO Satelite Jet Plane or Star.” At first I played this record so that Kirsten could "meet" Chris, and later we played it to decide what he and Lisa would play at our wedding. This record was like an interstate double date.
    


17. 2005 – Soundtrack, “Garden State.” Kirsten burned this onto a CD we’d listen to in the car. Simon and Garfunkel, Nick Drake, and isn’t that the guy from Men at Work? Cf. 1990.
    


18. 2007 – The Laurie Berkner Band, “Buzz Buzz.” A kids’ record, which I’ve probably heard as much in two years as any other record I’ve owned. How can you turn up your nose at something that two year olds adore?
    


19. 2008 – Vampire Weekend, “Vampire Weekend.” Cf. 1985-86. I listened to this record in February 2009 and it instantly transported me to February 2008.
    


20. Beginning 1984 – The Clash, “London Calling.” This record seems likes it’s always been with me and carries notes of people and places all along. I tried to write a short story based on “Jimmy Jazz” while in high school, and any time I listen to “The Right Profile” I hear Trevor imitating Joe Strummer’s approximation of Montgomery Clift vomiting. I can tout this record as an argument against suicide, but remain uncertain as to whether or not I’m working for the Clampdown.