Yes, something's coming. 💯
by Sean
Tougher times, these days. There's something circadian about it - you're up, you're down, eventually you're up again. "There's something circadian about it!" I've shouted this now: shouted it in an alley, at a friend six-and-a-half feet away. What a world. "You study your braille / you listen to the hail outside," Eleanor Friedberger sings. When Dan Bejar recorded this it was shiny, sturdy, blasted by cloud-coloured light. Here now it's a doomed demo, a recording never finished or properly released. Here now it feels like a coronavirus tune, a dirge for this comedy, this tragedy, these 224 spilling seconds. I thought I could handle repetition. I thought I flourished in repetition. Scheduled days, habit. But tonight these groundhog days are wearing me out. Not loss, grief, worry: just the ache of a groove worn down. I'm nearly a broken record. It hailed yesterday. Why didn't I register it as a splendour? Why was it just one more thing? You're living, you're breathing I'd like it to hail inside the house. (painting by jim holland) by Sean
Bad Bunny ft Sech - "Ignorantes". Today I played with my son in the living-room, a game of pigs and yeti, scampering over mountaintops, and as I did so I listened to Bad Bunny, because I have taken to listening to new music while we play, these days, because I can't listen to music the ways I normally do. The reason I was listening to Bad Bunny was because I like what I've already heard by him, but mostly because Nat likes him, and I trust her taste (with the exception of Berlioz, ai ai ai), but at a certain point I was listening not because of Nat, not because of anyone else besides Bad Bunny himself: I was listening to "Ignorantes" for the fifth time in a row, like a tonic, like drinking a healthful tonic, another dose of quinine and orange juice. This sad song was glinting in the afternoon's grey light, it was lifting my heart, it was soundtracking the swine and the snowman and the endless avalanches. I thought about the strangeness of the way a song can travel; in that way it's not like a novel, a novel can't serve so many functions. When Sech and Bad Bunny sat down to write "Ignorantes" - with their feelings heavy in their chests, heartbroken or pretending, lost in memory - they could not have guessed their song would come here to pandemic-stricken Montreal; that it would to be a comfort, a tonic, floating over mountaintops in a cloud-tinted living-room, where son and father play. ---- I hope it does you some good, too. by Sean
Shotgun Jimmie - "Skype Date". A child is shrieking through the wall. Every morning someone practices their saxophone. "When have I ever been shaggier?" Joni asks herself. She is undyed and lonely. She has worn her fur coat for the past three days because "why not?" She wonders how long it will be before she can send it for dry cleaning. She wonders how you know when a grapefruit is inedible. She wonders what she would do if her computer died - "buy a new one?" she guesses. It's raining outside. Joni considers sitting and just watching it. Until 5pm. Until Paul calls at 5pm. She wants to be ready when he calls at 5pm. They barely know each other but Joni will take what she can. She is thinking of singing for him, because that would impress him. That would be something to do. [buy] P.S.:
by Sean
"It's like groundhog day," Julie said, every day like the one before, and yet every evening we sit staring at our screens and squinting into the future, trying to envision it, stuck in a loop yet imagining the unlooped life, the moment the loop gets broken, the ring unrung, is it next week or is it next year? what will it be like? what is it like right now, really like, beyond the veneer of statistics and street-corners? This circling-back, this asking-again: it feels itself like a cage. Not just when does it end?, but when do I get to stop wondering these things? And obviously I don't know the answer; and obviously you already know I don't. But when I listen to "Prisoner's Song," which is to me the most precious residue of a prior musical age, a downtempo age, from way back in 1986, the thought I think is: gotta sing. Overtop of that loop, endless and banal: just sing. Like Márta Sebestyén: sing, sing. Find the downbeat, find the swing - find the sad song or the glad one, whatever's shadowing your heart. Make a melody out of what's happening, try to trace it on the world. by Sean
And we also have to be forgiving. You probably know this already. You have probably forgiven yourself for that angry thought. For that quick riposte. For that phonecall unanswered. You have probably forgiven yourself for wasting the hour, the afternoon, the night, the day. You have forgiven yourself - surely you have - for declining to post on your blog yesterday. Surely you are not carrying this anguish around with you. Surely you are not locked inside the house with it. Have you come a long way? Do you know wherefrom? Nap Eyes' Nigel Chapman is one of rock's rare mystics - what the Victorians sometimes called a "medium." He sees visions in things - fires, brambles, brick walls in the rain. The good news is that unlike Jim (or Van) Morrison, Chapman uses his powers exclusively for good. He is a healer. A cleric. If he came to my home I would not let him in but he would somehow heal me through the window, one palm raised to the glass. He wants the best for us - for me, for you, you can hear it in his voice. And I want the best for him. I want him to cure his fool thinking ways. I want him to find the clarity, the chords, he's looking for. One day, after all of this is over, I want him to stand before a lake and watch a sword rise out of it. Chapman will accept the hilt. He will raise the weapon over his head*. Something will glimmer inside him. Then Nap Eyes' bassist will help him carry it back to the garage.
by Sean
I understand it to be true that if you stand on your tip-toes all day, your highest tip-toes, then tomorrow you will be taller. And if tomorrow you stand on your tip-toes, your highest tip-toes, then you will be even taller the next day. And so on, and so forth, until you are giant, a towering giant, with legs like spires, looming over your city. I understand it to be true that if you are safe today, all day, then tomorrow we will be safer. And if tomorrow you remain safe, then the next day safer, and the next and the next, on and on, until the day when it is impossible for any of us to be safer. We will be as safe as we can be. Then we will come out of our homes and sing in throngs, whack tetherballs, kiss friends on the lips. We will totter happily over all the crowded sidewalks, like (wise) fools. [buy] |
This is a daily sampler of really good songs. All tracks are posted out of love. Please go out and buy the records.
To hear a song in your browser, click the and it will begin playing. All songs are also available to download: just right-click the link and choose 'Save as...' All songs are removed within a few weeks of posting. Said the Gramophone launched in March 2003, and added songs in November of that year. It was one of the world's first mp3blogs. If you would like to say hello, find out our mailing addresses or invite us to shows, please get in touch: Montreal, Canada: Sean Toronto, Canada: Emma Montreal, Canada: Jeff Montreal, Canada: Mitz Please don't send us emails with tons of huge attachments; if emailing a bunch of mp3s etc, send us a link to download them. We are not interested in streaming widgets like soundcloud: Said the Gramophone posts are always accompanied by MP3s. If you are the copyright holder of any song posted here, please contact us if you would like the song taken down early. Please do not direct link to any of these tracks. Please love and wonder. "And I shall watch the ferry-boats / and they'll get high on a bluer ocean / against tomorrow's sky / and I will never grow so old again."
about the authors
Sean Michaels is the founder of Said the Gramophone. He is a writer, critic and author of the theremin novel Us Conductors. Follow him on Twitter or reach him by email here. Click here to browse his posts.
Emma Healey writes poems and essays in Toronto. She joined Said the Gramophone in 2015. This is her website and email her here. Jeff Miller is a Montreal-based writer and zinemaker. He is the author of Ghost Pine: All Stories True and a bunch of other stories. He joined Said the Gramophone in 2015. Say hello on Twitter or email. Mitz Takahashi is originally from Osaka, Japan who now lives and works as a furniture designer/maker in Montreal. English is not his first language so please forgive his glamour grammar mistakes. He is trying. He joined Said the Gramophone in 2015. Reach him by email here. Site design and header typography by Neale McDavitt-Van Fleet. The header graphic is randomized: this one is by Matthew Feyld.
PAST AUTHORS
Dan Beirne wrote regularly for Said the Gramophone from August 2004 to December 2014. He is an actor and writer living in Toronto. Any claim he makes about his life on here is probably untrue. Click here to browse his posts. Email him here.
Jordan Himelfarb wrote for Said the Gramophone from November 2004 to March 2012. He lives in Toronto. He is an opinion editor at the Toronto Star. Click here to browse his posts. Email him here.
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Whoa. I clicked my StG bookmark for the first time in months 3 minutes after this was posted. Something's coming.
a perennial highlight, thank you...
Ha! I just checked today for the first time in months, too. That time of the year. Can't wait.
Even though I know it's way too early, as soon as Thanksgiving hits, I visit this page every day it seems.
Bright news on this Monday - you are incredible.
Most wonderful time of the year!
Yes! Beyond thrilled.
can't wait. thank you for this perennial gift.
Waiting from France. Thanks.
Yes! I come back to this each year. Can't wait.
So happy to read this, you're 100 is an annual pleasure since a long, long time.
Julien (France)
I still believe in Santa!
Just checked in to find out what time 'something' arrived last year. Tip-top, Christmas just wouldn't be the same, etc.
can't wait!
Oh that just really brightens things. Thank you Sean.
Eagerly anticipated!
I'm so glad! I look forward to it every year.
I love this list every year. Always find some hidden gems. Thanks for doing it.
Just another show of love for this annual treat! Fuels my heart and ears for the year. Thanks for doing it.
Waiting from high atop a mountain in Washington State. A highlight. Thank you!
Hooray! I've looked forward to this for over thirteen years...
Nothing better than new music. Thanks for all the songs over the years
YES I was hoping for this
Yes, please! Waiting for you and your list. Thank you for coming back.
Thank you!
Oh thank goodness
Yes! My favorite December tradition is eagerly checking for your list every 17.5 minutes
Woke up on Monday thinking "Will Sean release his 'best of' this year? Checked here... and am happy :) If this is indeed a teaser for your annual list, then no better way to end a crappy 2020 than on a high note!
Hurray! Thank you ❤️
Thank you in advance, StG. Such a great thing.
Blimey so loving this news
love Jules
Good to see. Always a fantastic list, many gems, v good, etc etc
Oh god, it's happening! One of the few pleasures of lockdowned life has been taking long strolls around the park, headphones in, lost inside myself outside. Which is to say that the StG 100 could not come at a better time for pure focused listening :)
Blimey so loving this news
love Jules
So looking forward to this.
My favorite internet day of the year is coming!
Thank you so much for continuing to do this, it really is something I look forward to every year!
Great news! Looking forward to listening...
Hurrah! Best-of-worst-year-ever coming soon. Making my Friday happy....
so excited!
Yay! :)
Headline: Top Songs List thrown into turmoil by late TSwift entry!
Thank you, Sean!¡
Woooohooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!
LET'S GOOOOO
Cannot wait. Miss and love STG!
YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!
Hooray! What a treat, thanks!
That's a beacon from an old friend.
So so excited for this. Been a highlight of the end of the year for as long as I can remember! (We’re all old.)
My heart! I have found so many of my favorite albums through these. I can't wait!! Thank you as always. Bless your soul.
A time-honoured tradition. Can't wait
Hard to overstate how much I appreciate what you do here. Can't wait to see what's coming.
I am, as ever, looking forward to this.
I also loved reading all these comments - I wish we could all be together in a dark but friendly venue, drinks in hand, waiting for Sean to play us his tunes of the year.
ooohhh... can't wait! This year specially.
oh, this makes me so happy!
really looking forward to it.
I look forward to this every year! So thrilled to read and listen to all the hidden gems!
Yes please.
Can't wait! 2020, you're not all bad.
Yay Sean