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Musings on the Arctic Monkeys’ album “The Car”

It’s been about a year since The Arctic Monkeys released The Car - and it’s been about a year since it began repeating like a scratched record in my mind. After the deconstruction of the idea of  The (old) Arctic Monkeys that began with Tranquility Base Hotel and Casino, in this album they have perfected what that experiment began.

A Trip Back to the Gentlemen of the French Chanson

Ever since I was a little boy, my family used to play French songs all day long around the house. Being the son of a Spanish mother who grew up in France, my musical backdrop was quite different from what my school friends experienced. It made me feel special. As I grew older, these singers became more than just background music. They were cherished memories of my family. Delving into their biographies, I started to admire their personal style, sensitivity, and that unmistakable gentlemanly flair they exuded.

Regaining the Rhythm, the Melody, the Mood

Taylor Swift made it onto my top five artists on Spotify last year. Now, let the record state that I do like some of her music. Just nowhere near as much as my girlfriend. But, watching her sing and dance to Taylor Swift in the car is a magical thing and I’m weak for these moments. So, whenever she suggests a bit of “T-Swizzle,” I’m game.

Ol’ Blue Eyes

Given Sinatra's widespread admiration amongst grown men it's almost surprising to think that he first found fame in the 1940s crooning to teenage girls. It was the eventual loss of his voice for a time, his career, his fortune and, most notably, the loss of second-wife Ava Gardner, that meant that when listeners found his voice pressed on vinyl again it was frequently imbued with all the blue melancholy, loneliness, emotion, and sense of survival - despite it all - that he became a legend for.

The Greatest Jazz Album Ever Made

While I’m in no way an expert on jazz, I’ve been listening to the genre for over two decades, ever since my godfather gifted me “Kind of Blue”, Miles Davis’ infamous album, for my thirteenth birthday. And, 23 years later, that album still stands as my favorite jazz album ever made, one of the greatest in the world as a Google search quickly proves.

An Ode to the iPod

Recently I was opening what I assumed was a box of Christmas decorations, but was really a memory box of sorts from my high school and university years. Here, a pendant from school; there, a ticket to an amusement park. I felt like an archeologist, digging up remnants of the Lost Civilization of the Aughts. And below the candy wrappers and movie ticket stubs laid the Rosetta Stone of this excavation: my iPod.

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