In my hot blooded youth (late 80’s, early 90’s) I felt very strongly about music. I knew what I LOVED and what I HATED. The gift of a Walkman in my early teens was vital, as it allowed me to pour the necessary sounds into my ears at all times. The floor of my first car was littered with cassette tapes which the Columbia Record and Tape Club was happy to supply me. I’m sure my taste was eccentrically middlebrow, consisting of show tunes, 60’s pop and folk, 80’s new wave and hair metal and 90’s alt. rock. Listening to music was cathartic and exciting.
I was too essentially dorky to involve myself in any “scene”. (Frankly, the cool kids made me anxious.) But I loved to dance and to become reduced to an entirely listening being.
I did play an instrument (tuba) and performed throughout my teens in the wholesome, adult sanctioned groups that were considered appropriate. I learned about music, I played music and it was enjoyable. I embraced the innate absurdity of what I was doing and kept my primal feelings, the feelings that welled up when I listened to music tamped down behind an ironic wall. I didn’t allow my enjoyment of the art form to become a driving passion. I kind of regret that now. I miss the experience of making music.
I convinced myself that I liked music, but I wouldn’t live and die for it.
But there are those who would and that’s what Disgraceland is mostly about. It’s an examination of the intersections between music and crime. It is fascinating.
Host Jake Brennan puts together a new story every two weeks (mostly) and he examines, in lyrical prose, the ways that very talented humans can go wrong. Brennan’s narrative voice is understanding of human frailty. He presents what is known, takes a few educated guesses for the sake of clarity and drama, and leaves the listener to form their own conclusions. We sympathize with the inevitable victims, even though you do find yourself mentally urging them to back away, to do something to sidestep the fate that is all to easy to see coming.
I’ve enjoyed all the episodes so far, but the ones about Sid Vicious and Van Morrison are particularly well written. I highly recommend adding Disgraceland to your listening schedule.
Sparkly Things 