Friday, February 13, 2009

O My Heart

I usually love any and all music recommendations. I'm like an open music box sans one twirling ballerina. I love being exposed to new bands, genres, and collaborations - especially ones that push me outside my small realm of knowledge. That being said, there are times when I find it difficult to take the advice from the forceful music aficionado.

Exhibit A: Twenty-something music photographer who comes into my store for a white mocha americano. (Sidenote: Gross) After trying to make a co-worker feel bad because she didn't know Jeff Buckley's life story, I cutely chimed in with some JB background to get his attention. My next move was bold. I went for the almost unanswerable question, easing into it's delivery with a compliment.
"You seem really into music. What's your favorite band?" *You should know I was interested less in his literal answer and more in how much his explanation revealed about his personality.
"Oh, Radiohead," he responded quickly and in a distinct, it-should-be-obvious-because-I-have-good-taste sort of a tone.
"Really," I continued thoughtfully, "Thom and the guys are amazing. So what's your favorite album?"
"In Rainbows, of course."
I stifle a giggle. Not at the selection, but the inflection. I'm now honestly curious and want to egg him on. Without losing conversation flow I continue the query, "Interesting choice. Why In Rainbows?"

He scoffs slightly, implying a.) that I should possess powers of premonition and/or b.) the answer should be apparent. "Because it's Radiohead at their best. It's the band's most mature effort." He really emphasized the mature part.
"What's yours?" he fired back.

I didn't pause long enough to be clever, just honest. "I love OK Computer a lot. That or Pablo Honey."
He proceeds to laugh in my face. Seriously, he chuckles. He then mumbles something pretentious as he picks up his drink. I realize then that it's time to capitulate before I sic my A-Team defense. He's one of those guys I could go forty rounds with and still, neither party would accept a KO, or even a truce. I had a slew of rebuttals alphabetized in my head, but instead of whipping the first 'A' out like an excited kid at debate camp, I demeaned myself slightly, chalking my choice up to age or some other BS. And after some stroking of his ego - telling him how amazing his job sounds photographing bands - he left me with a recommendation (more like an order) to listen to one of "his clients."

Now I realize that's a long winded explanation of a short conversation, but you have to know going into this post how much I did not want to like this band. If only to spite toolerific In Rainbows guy. It is a testament to the near-flawless production of this record that I conquered my bias, and fell head over heals in love with Mother, Mother.

Think Fiery Furnaces meets The Morning Benders, with all the quirky charm of I'm From Barcelona. Or if that's too convoluted for you just think amazing. Bravo white mocha americano. Your big head may make it difficult to move through most standard doorways, but at least it hasn't cut off blood flow to your good taste.

Sample some tracks off Mother Mother's sophomore album, O My Heart below and then go buy your copy at iTunes, Amazon, or *gasp* a record store.


PL&MoreLove,
LtK