Apparently, I buy too many records

My wife Helen, like every other woman i've ever lived with, believes that I buy too many records.

Which, as every record-buying man knows, is a ridiculous belief.

I will concede, however, that I do indeed buy a lot of records and that I don't afford them the same amount of listens and attention that I did 20 or 30 years ago.

To this end, I have decided to blog about the records that I buy, in order to help my appreciation of them - and perhaps to show Helen that I don't buy that many records after all.

Because i'm crap with deadlines the blog posts will be sporadic and probably be about a month or 2 behind but that's just the way i am! The posts will not necessarily be actual reviews (most likely comments, at best) and will generally be pretty damn short due to the reasons outlined above. As a writer in a previous existence i have decided not to worry about writing as art in the pieces but, instead, to attempt to convey feeling over semantic (and often grammatic) perfection.

And 'OCRB'? It stands for 'Obsessive Compulsive Record Buying' - a little known mental health affliction that is potentially damaging to the bank account but ultimately life-affirming. It is sad.......but a nice form of sad.

Friday, 7 October 2011

Matana Roberts: Coin Coin chapter one (Constellation)

Beautifully packaged double 10" on Constellation scared the living shit outta me when i got it a few months ago, and each time i play it, it has the same effect. Much of it is a mix of wonderfully played free sax playing interspersed with  story telling spoken parts, and backed by a whole gang of musicians (playing piano, cello, trumpet, tenor/baritone sax, doudouk, guitar, violin, saw, bass & drums), and creating a spellbinding melange of sounds and emotions that draw you in.
And then it happens.
She fucking screams.
Like a wailing freejazz motherfucking banshee.
Or Yoko One being punched my Mike Tyson.
And i hate it, i really bloody hate it - so much that i cannot bear to listen to it and i have to take it off and put some Merzbow on for light relief. I completely understand her desire to show raw emotion (job absolutely done) but i just can't bear to listen to those parts - maybe this is all down to my white male liberal middle class ideals, but i can't cope with it. I will keep coming back to it and trying it again -  this i am sure, because i appreciate that it is a work of great depth and construction and (more importantly) i hate to be beaten.

This is, apparently, chapter one of a twelve part series.
Shit.
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