The Second Hand Just Waved Goodbye

Before writing this piece, I asked Michael Cramer, my co-editor,
what he thought I should aim for in this column. He said, "You
know, if you make it personal, it'll just be boring." And I realize
that: certainly a column in a music section should be more geared
toward musical rather than general nostalgia. So--if you'll indulge
me--I'm going to take a little stroll down the music memory lane,
and think about some of the better art that has been created during
my four years in college.

I didn't start out in Columbia College: I spent my freshman year
at NYU. Although I was closer to the most popular concert venues
than I ever had been before, I hardly went to shows. Originally, I
had wanted to be involved with music journalism because I was a
huge fan of Sarah McLachlan; essentially, I was writing in order to
bide the time before she released a new album after 1998's
Surfacing. My new friend, Echav�, introduced me to an
American electronic artist named BT; in the fall of 2000, he had
released an album called Movement in Still Life, and that
album was the subject of my first ever review. (Truth be told, I
didn't realize the enormous artistry of that album until I came to
Columbia during my sophomore year. The education may be better here
at CU, but it is way more boring uptown, so in attempt to keep
going, I listened to Movement non-stop for a semester.)

That same freshman year, Columbia Concerts had brought Outkast
to the Bacchanal concert. While I squandered my time in April,
hanging out with mean opera singers (not kidding), Outkast was
"stanking" it up in Morningside Heights. I knew I had to leave NYU
for the pastures of Harlem, especially if Columbia was bringing
hip-hop to its campus.

I wish I could tell as many people as possible that I left NYU
for the mere fact that Outkast performed during Columbia's
Bacchanal. Actually, I came because I wanted to be closer to the
Journalism School, and I wanted better English classes than those
that NYU offered. When I joined Spectator in sophomore year, I
worked under Tania Biswas and Graham Moore, and Tania assigned me
my first interview early in the fall of 2001. Back at NYU, I was
only doing album reviews, save for one feature on "Latin pop;"
Tania had me interview Paul van Dyk. I knew who BT was, but he was
the only electronic dance artist that I was familiar with at all. I
had no awareness of the electronic dance music (EDM) culture: I
didn't know what Twilo, Tunnel, Vinyl, and Limelight were; I had no
idea who Oakenfold and Moby were; and most of all, I had no idea
how big this scene was in New York and around the world. It took my
move to Columbia to make me aware of an entirely new genre of
music, one that I concentrated on in my work at Spectator. At the
end of sophomore year, I had interviewed both van Dyk and Carl Cox;
I had gone to one of the biggest raves ever held in NYC, led by Cox
down at South Street Seaport; and, coolest of all, I had reviewed
the Blade II Soundtrack. This exposure led to a summer internship
at a PR firm that specialized in EDM. Free parties and
booze--woo!

Of course, EDM wasn't the only kind of music I was listening to.
Bj�rk released Vespertine in the fall of 2001, John
Mayer made his first mainstream splash during the spring of 2002,
and one of my other chick rock heroes, Patty Griffin, released
1,000 Kisses at the end of the 2002 spring semester. I
reviewed Dave Matthews Band (eh) and The Tragically Hip (metal!)
during the summer of 2002. When I became music editor in the fall
of 2002, I was back into EDM: R�yksopp released Melody
A.M., and, as with BT's Movement, I couldn't stop
listening to the record. The soft but rushing music that
R�yksopp created was exciting, but unfortunately, they still
haven't released a follow-up to that amazing album. On the rock
tip, stellastarr* was up-and-coming in 2002; I found its take on
New Wave and indie punk interesting enough to follow the band as it
was signed to RCA. I have little faith in the longevity of the
current New York indie rock scene, but I still think stellastarr*
is original enough to make a long-term impact on rock right
now.

I moved away from EDM a little during my junior year. One of the
best concerts I went to in 2003 featured Ibrahim Ferrer, of Buena
Vista Social Club, at the Beacon Theater. Seeing him perform live
made me realize that it was just as good to see human performers on
stage as it was to see a DJ hidden away behind his turntables in
the corner of a club. Furthermore, it was great to see a seasoned
and trained performer, instead of messy-haired bands from Brooklyn
who seem to not care that being on stage is an important event for
them and for the audience.

I couldn't ignore messy-haired bands entirely. One of the
biggest discoveries I made during my time at Spectator came in the
fall of 2002, during the CMJ Music Marathon. Graham and I had gone
to the Bowery on the last day of the Marathon to check out the
British band The Music. The third band on the bill that night was
an unknown psychedelic-country act called My Morning Jacket.

Our mouths were open for the entire set.

We were blown away by this group of shaggy-haired Southerners
who took over the Bowery stage as if they were the only kids on a
hayride. It was the craziest and most inspirational rock moment
that I had ever witnessed. Their songs lasted five minutes or
longer, and each one was punctuated with guitar solos and flying,
headbanging hair. Graham and I gripped the edge of the stage, not
wanting to miss a second of this mindblowing performance. At the
end of the show, Graham and I yelled up to Jimmy James, the lead
singer, "Oh my God, that was amazing!" He said to us, "Hey, thanks
guys. See you soon," and walked away with a grin. The Music were
pretty bad. My Morning Jacket were spiritual.

You may think I'm exaggerating, but I'm not. My Morning Jacket
reaffirmed my faith in rock 'n' roll. Forget the indie fashionista
bands: give me some prog-psycho-country-rock and I'm a happy music
writer. In a way, I've come a long way, music-wise, during my
college years. I started out with Sarah McLachlan, moved on to BT,
Paul van Dyk and the like, and came back to pure rock 'n' roll with
My Morning Jacket. I've discovered a good number of artists and
genres, and I'll never forget the ones that made my time in college
so memorable.