In a way, I started writing
that Ryan Adams piece at the moment I dropped the needle on the record—around two, or maybe closer to
three weeks ago now. Words, however, weren't typed onto this computer screen until last Monday. Normally, I don't spend so much time on a blog entry. For better or worse, these entries usually end on the day they begin, but other things—work, Thanksgiving, life—kept getting in the way of my completion of the
Cardinology piece. I think I could have finished it all in one day had I had the opportunity, and I also think it could have been a better piece if I had, but I am nevertheless happy with it.
It was probably about a week into my listening to
Cardinology that I decided that whatever I wrote had better be special. The album deserved it. I had ideas of writing a mock interview: "Q&A with Ryan Adams." It would consist of several questions from me, followed by a lack of answer from Ryan Adams, such as:
SM: I find the artwork for the compact disc version of the album to be supremely cheesy. Do you
know that it's cheesy? It doesn't seem to relate to the songs at all. Are you being funny, or are you being serious? What's up with the cardinal symbol?
RA:
SM: Okay. I read a review of
Cardinology which suggested that the album's closer, "Stop," is actually about rehab for substance abuse. This would never have occurred to me, however. To me, it is clearly about the pain of loneliness. Would you please offer some insight?
RA:
SM: Cool. Thank you. In at least two of the tracks, you allude to the music "rolling in your mind" and the healing power that music has. I am curious because there is almost always music playing in my own mind: Are you being sincere? What music has been rolling in your mind lately?
RA:
SM: Wow, I didn't expect that!
And so on. But, in the end, I didn't feel good about that idea. However, you may note, as I do, that I have gone into it with more than enough detail here, now. I don't know what's up with that. In any case, there were important things that I ended up omitting, such as what I perceive to be some of Adams' musical influences or kindred spirits (Neil Young, Ron Sexsmith, and, somewhat oddly, My Morning Jacket, or maybe I just mean
Prince). I also left out all of the band members' names: Neal Casal (acoustic and electric guitars, vocals, Wurlitzer, piano), Chris Feinstein (bass, vocals), Jon Graboff (electric guitar, pedal steel guitar, vocals), Brad Pemberton (drums, percussion), Michael Panes (violin). And, of course, I forgot to mention some other stuff more specific to individual songs. For instance, I did not mention how the opening guitar riff of "Born into a Light" is played once in the left channel before being joined by an identical riff in the right channel. Stuff like that. I did, however, mention things that I wasn't expecting to mention. (I don't want to get into it.)
Sometime just prior to leaving the office on the Wednesday evening before Thanksgiving, I began feeling desperate to get the damn blog entry over with. (I am sort of feeling the same thing right now about
this entry.) I felt so desperate, in fact, that I lugged home my heavy laptop, knowing that there'd be no way in the world I'd get around to working over my very busy weekend. As I mentioned, I have not listened to much of anything else at all since
Cardinology came into my life. Indeed, there were several days when it was the
only thing I listened to, and, yes, I listened over and over again, as if the album was on Repeat (though it was not). In my iTunes, Ryan Adams is immediately followed by Santogold, so, on a couple of occasions, I got to hear bits of Santi White's "Your Voice," but more often than not, I went from "Stop" right back to "Born into a Light" with little more than a second or so in between.
It started to drive me crazy. I thought that I'd never be able to listen to any other music until I had finished the blog entry. An obsession seemed to be growing into a sickness. I couldn't stop, I couldn't stop, I couldn't stop.
Finally, however, I posted the entry. It was done and so was I and I would now be free.
Wrong. Two days after posting the
Cardinology entry, I still can't stop listening to the album. It is all I
really want to listen to. There is, however, an album sitting on my desk, staring up at me, tempting me: Frida Hyvonen's
Silence Is Wild, which I actually did listen to just last night. (And it's really good.)
For the first time in these last few weeks, I listened to something other than
Cardinology before going to bed.
