tuckova

I got tagged in that "15 albums that are super important to you forevers
in only 15 minutes go!" thing on the book of face, and I did it, and
then I thought: But lists are not interesting; reasons are. So.

1. Starland
   Vocal Band – I bought this for my father the summer it came out,
   because it was popular and I thought he would like it. I played this
   album until the grooves were worn smooth. I studied the picture of the
   band, tried to figure out what they were like, invented back stories
   for them. I know now that it was mostly lame covers of classic folk
   songs, but gosh I loved this album, and it was the first album I loved.
2. Simon
   & Garfunkel – I couldn't tell you which single album, maybe
   "Sounds of Silence", with their pointy shoes and capey looking coats
   and their mysterious destination down a country road. We didn't have a
   lot of music in the house when I was growing up, but we had all the
   Simon and Garfunkel, and I loved it all. Writing out the words, lying
   on my back crying beside the stereo, because "gazing beyond the
   rain-drenched streets" was so lovely. This is why I am demanding about
   lyrics; you cannot start with Paul Simon and settle for mere rhymes
   after. 
3. Eurythmics – Again, I don't know which album, maybe
   "Sweet Dreams". This was the beginning of liking pop music for me,
   liking costumes, liking how you could build a shell around your heart
   instead of holding it out on your open palm, like you do with folk
   music. And I liked how her voice was so controlled and so powerful. And
   her hair.
4. Prince's Purple Rain – I realize that there are movie soundtracks that affect people more (you know who you are, The Wall)
   but this was the one that won my heart. The dancing purple q-tip! I
   loved him, despite those embarrassingly long guitar solos, gah. And I
   could still listen to most of this today, and dance.
5. Kate
   Bush's The Dreaming – First album that was hard for me to like before I
   knew I loved it. It was such an interesting cross between the easy
   folky appeal of "The Kick Inside" and the harder rock that I was
   learning about (Pink Floyd, King Crimson) but I knew that whether Kate
   Bush crooned or screamed, she absolutely meant it, and it was a lovely
   channel for how I felt at seventeen, angry and anguished.
6. Talking
   Heads'  Fear of Music – (I think? I tend to like an artist, get
   everything they've done, and listen to it all in a long, lovely
   gluttonous loop, so I don't generally focus on albums). David Byrne
   changed my brain. I don't really think I can say much more about it.
7. Laurie
   Anderson's Strange Angels – Her previous albums had a much bigger
   influence on my ideas about the world and about what stories we tell
   and how we tell them. Those were game changers for me. But Strange
   Angels… this had a huge influence on my feelings. And still does;
   Coolsville can still make me cry faster than I can blink.
8. Leonard
   Cohen's I'm Your Man. I had read his poetry in high school, and when I
   first heard his music I was like: This guy can only sing one note,
   hello. And I hated (and still don't like) how he brings in pretty
   sopranos to cover it up. I like him best raw. But coming back to him in
   college, falling in love with Suzanne as one does, and then with "Take
   This Waltz" I think he had me forever in his pocket.
9. Eno/Cale
   Wrong Way Up – This album has super powers. If I ever talk about dying,
   make me listen to it. I cannot leave a world where this album exists.
10. Tori
    Amos' Little Earthquakes – Oh, the tragic breakup album. This is maybe
    a little awkward, now, my love for this album. But gosh, that was a
    hard break up, and Tori knew all the words.
11. Counting Crows's
    August and Everything After – This was one of maybe five tapes I had
    when I moved here. I have no objective idea at this point if it's any
    good. I think it is really really good. But it was the only actual
    album I had for several months, and I am intimately bonded with it
    forever.
12. Beth Orton's Central Reservation – Great lyrics, great
    swoopy music, heartbreakingly good voice. I like, too, how optimistic
    this is, because I think she could easily be very yeasty. I like also
    how her crossover tends to be towards electronica. It was a new way of
    thinking for me, and I like anything that opens doors in my brain.
13. Jaromir
    Nohavica Darmodej – I remember very clearly the first time I heard
    this album; it is when I knew I was going to stay here for a long time.
    If a country can produce this man, then it is a country worth living
    in.
14. Regina Spektor's Begin to Hope – Like Beth Orton, Spektor
    just intrigues me with her ability to do a lot of stuff and her quiet
    refusal to be easily pigeonholed. The match of lyrics to music is
    surprising and often delightful to me. Plus her voice is just crazy
    awesome. 
15. There should be a place for mix tapes. It would be
    wrong of me to put any album ahead of mix tapes, because whenever I
    want to hear music, my brain first goes to mixes, the sonnets of my
    generation, my musical touchstones.