folksong @thefolksong - Tumblr Blog

yea i do crimes; i’m a real bad kid. they even got me for possession once *eyes roll back into head, everything in the room begins to float*

— mourning dove (@petfurniture) December 9, 2012

thefolksong

Lovely

Vashti Bunyan spinning.

#vinyl #records #vashti bunyan #instagram

Ever since July, 微笑む has meant a lot to me. It means smile, and writing it is a reminder in itself.

#totoro #smile #reminders #instagram

theillustratedghost-blog

beast4thee-blog

#angel olsen

theillustratedghost-blog

thefolksong

Oh my goodness.

Developing my thoughts on collecting records.

I have spoken in brief about my aspirations for my record collection (which, by the way, I've named my 'recollection' for short) being a contemporary one. The records in it are those which mean something to me and my generation as a whole & grow with me.

Thinking about this recently, I realized a couple problems with this model of collection. The first problem is that my generation is aging, and my musical tastes are staying current. I don't intend to ONLY collect records created between 1995-2013 or anything (these dates are arbitrary). The people making music in 2013 aren't necessarily going to be making music relevant to me in 2023, and I'll likely be listening to music created by people much younger than me in a decade. That's music of a generation that's close to my own, but I dare say I wouldn't be able to call it my own. Ideally, my recollection should never die. This fits the model of "grow with me," but it doesn't fit the model of "me and my generation."

The second problem is that so much of listening and collecting records is how I share this collection with others. One issue with the music that I enjoy is it isn't accessible for every occasion, and often requires more attention to appreciate it on even a basic level. When hosting friends for a dinner party, I want to put on a record that can be appreciated on multiple levels - on a very basic ("background music") level, or in a more nuanced and focused appreciation level. Many of the artists that I enjoy and can be appreciated on that basic level simply aren't alive to make music anymore. Miles Davis is an excellent example of this. His music is incredibly deep and thoroughly satisfying on an intellectual level. But his record Kind of Blue is perfect music for any occasion.

So it's with this in mind that I'm going to start collecting records for artists that exist outside of "my generation." It's not going to start immediately. I'm not going to go to a record store and get 100 new records (as much as I'd love to) right this second. But I do plan to shift away from this binary I had before in my mind.

When I do have the opportunity, I'm going to search record stores for used records from older artists. Albums I can pick up cheaply. I like the idea of having a record that previous owners mistreated, so that you can hear the hiss and pop that my brand new records should never have.

I am going to start cataloging the recollection sometime soon, with pictures of my records along with a description of the music, what it means to me, why I purchased it, how and when I like to enjoy it.

Oh, and if anyone has any records they're trying to get rid of (can't play them, inherited them and just don't like the music) let me know! I may be willing to take them off your hands.

#vinyl #records #collection #big band #hiss #contemporary #miles davis

rucksack full of stones.

Traveling with stones in your rucksack, all those lovely ones you're sure don't exist at home & you're right because you're not home yet. Walking for miles, the days don't end here, the sun never sets. Sits perfectly at the zenith. Time stands still, but you begin to waver. Only the stones a reminder that time exists or at least once did. You pull them out one at a time, try to memorize its texture. Each time you examine the stones they change. Sometimes smoother than others. You have no sense of direction. The only guide home is the faint smell of bread. You have had that as a guide for what feels like years. There is nothing to eat but the sun, still shining, always shining. Not a burden, more like the sun on the first days of spring. The sort of sun that gives you energy. The kind that makes you feel like leaves on a tree. You bloom. Though you're no longer collecting stones ((because you simply can't, there hasn't been a stone for miles)) they weigh heavier on your back. Digging through your rucksack you find your favorite stone. Its radiance is captivating as ever. You throw it as far as you can behind you. Throwing the stone felt good, but you no longer remember its color, its shape, the way it felt in your hand. You're almost relieved. That sense of relief drives you. You pull another stone out and do the same. & again until the sack is empty & the night has come. You rest. Laying down on the soft and wet ground for the first time in years. A lifetime of stones lost in the darkness behind you.

You rest until the sun kisses your eyelids. The scent of bread tickles your nose.

i originally wrote this in a series of tweets. just copy/pasted it for folksong.co - you can see it in serialized format here.

#story #memories #home #twitter

トトロ

crystal.gif

This is a gemstone i would pay to have in my life.

The musical passage of time.

Those moments you barely recognize have passed until you reflect later. Those moments filled with music and rhythm. Those moments during which you form the most enduring memories. Music lies beneath them, music digs its soft teeth into them, it ties them together. It weaves a thread through the fabric of life. It informs your emotions and provides you the beat for your rhythmic gait. It defines time as surely as time defines it. Lyrically, "time goes by so fast as if it hardly wants to exist." Music clearly (&notsoclearly) sets the barriers for the times of your life. The music you loved as a child, your favorite band and song of your fifth grade year felt like it was the only thing you knew for an eternity. And still you know that, even though your favorite band in fifth grade was only a year it lasted much longer than your current favorite band (a band, might I remind you, you've adored for more than a decade). And as you listen to new music you'll notice now that it consumes the moments around you and turns them into something else entirely. As a medium for storytelling it is perhaps the most passive - it requires a modest amount of attention in comparison to television, film, literature. Despite this it takes a distinctly active role in your life. What would your day be without music? How could you survive without it when you exercise? When you drive to work or write your papers? And oh how it can turn nearly any moment into a precious one. And oh how it can make those precious ones last forever. That day you're driving to the courthouse, preparing to get married, with "You Saved My Life" playing from your car stereo will be with you for the rest of your life even if the person to whom you married won't be. The song transforms this moment into that moment. It makes the rain you feel gracing your skin right now that same rain you felt three or four or five years ago. It makes that rain mean promise even as the rain exists for another reason or, more accurately, for no reason. Bon Iver can bring you to a library in a city you may never visit again in reality. For Emma, Forever Ago draws the distance from here to there to millimeters. It will always teleport you there, too. Be prepared to be 21 when you're 50. And when you're 27 and writing your thoughts down on a cell phone at 2 in the morning, you may actually just be a fifth grader. Music transforms time. It narrates your life. It delivers the rain to your ears and the snow to your cheeks and it softens the hard ground and cools your summer nights. It is the imperfect metronome. As it ticks away, desperately keeping perfect time, your brain borders on hallucinations. That is its role. It accepts this role gleefully.

#music #time #angel olsen #cass mccombs #bon iver #article #vinyl