Jim White — All Hits: Memories (Drag City)
Reasonable enough, perhaps, that drummer Jim White, after four decades in the trade and with a sprawling resumé of indie rock collaborations (not to mention percussion duties in the Dirty Three!), would only now get around to releasing his first solo album. After all, drums by themselves offer a challenging compositional palette, at least in certain idioms. However White, who is deeply respected by his peers, makes some clever moves on All Hits: Memories which clear the way. The first move is to turn toward free jazz, where solo percussion is a bit more familiar than in indie rock. Without doubt he has the chops, too, shifting between groovy phrases and episodes that expand and branch rhizomatically. While it would be difficult to pinpoint his central references here, and while I suspect that difficulty is intentional, it's hard not to hear Milford Graves in the room.
The second move is to play/think not just in rhythm but in sound; each song contains at least one or two rewarding sonic surprises, as White plays with room echo or drags a stick around the ride like a sound bath meditation bowl. These moments give somatic depth and draw the ear in close. It is a chestnut, but headphones add a lot to hearing this album.
The third move is working with brief songs, most of which are essentially vignettes (with just a couple of exceptions). There is a feeling here not unlike, say, J Dilla (and without drawing generic comparisons otherwise), who in his own solo work built breathtakingly complete musical worlds in 30 seconds, only to leave them aside for the next lush thing. White builds worlds similarly, extending the kit in gorgeous ways in rapid fire assemblages of ideas.
Lastly, there is a feeling of manipulation in much of the album's production, an insinuation of treatment in the studio. I have no idea whether that is the case, and I prefer not to check. In the mid-1990s many artists, perhaps fascinated with new studio tools ready to hand in bedrooms and apartments, played with the blurred line between live performance and post-hoc manipulation. (See e.g. the gorgeous, nebulous percussion on Stereolab's Parsec (1997)). There are elements of All Hits: Memories that seem to be looking backwards, perhaps to the aesthetic concerns of that moment, or to earlier moments of sonic synthesis (there are Stranger Things-like retro swells on several tracks). The title itself, of course, feels like a tongue-in-cheek, playfully self-aggrandizing glance backwards. There is a whole lot converging here.
Benjamin Tausig
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content note: discussion of suicide.
this next monday will be the six year anniversary of losing one of my friends to suicide.
when he died, my high school barely mentioned his death, even though for other students who died by things like car crashes or illness, there were so many public expressions of grief. they believed that having any memorials for a student who died by suicide would encourage other people to die the same way. in their rush to erase the circumstances of his death, they erased the memory of his life.
there are so many things i am angry at that high school about in terms of how they treated mental health (mandatory reporting and collaborating with cops, their refusal to recognize the ways in which that system led to peer-to-peer crisis support, their refusal to recognize the ways that trying to keep each other alive through trial and error was scary and exhausting, carceral disciplinary policies, etc etc etc). but i think one of the things i am still angriest about is the way they enforced shame around his death. it felt like they were retroactively blaming him for the constellation of circumstances that made suicide an option in his life. it felt like they were blaming those of us who missed him and cared about him and wanted to grieve him. it made those of us still there who were actively suicidal feel even more scared about the reaction if we did reach out for help from one of those mythical safe adults.
as an adult now involved in psych abolition/mad liberation work, it makes me so fucking mad to see the ways in which he was discarded by people in authority positions. and the older i get, the more options i have found in my life for making sense of the world and finding healing and community and support which were never available to him because he died when he was 16 and the only things offered to him were a carceral psychiatric system that blamed him for his own fucking death. it feels so incredibly unfair.
i miss him and i think i always will; i can't remember his laugh or the sound of his voice or his favorite color any more and that aches. this grief is so heavy and it feels harder in a new way each year, when i become older than he will ever be. sometimes meeting new comrades or seeing new anticarceral suicide support models hurts because i wish so fucking bad that we had that back then. i remember how close we came to losing even more people that year and i know it is simple fucking luck that i'm still here when he's not.
i remember another letter (never sent) that i wrote to a friend while they were in an ICU bed after a suicide attempt when i didn't know if they would live or not. i have spent so much time in the past 10 years begging for anything to keep me and my friends alive, but even in that letter i knew that there is so much fucking violence that is hidden beneath psychiatric logics of cure and safety that promise a "solution" to suicide. I knew that institutionalization, coercion, and shame would not have helped build a life more liveable for him or **** or any of the people i've loved and lost since.
there needs to be more fucking options for care and support that aren't so incredibly cruel to suicidal people. i know so many people doing incredible work in alternatives, peer respite, a million different frameworks for healing and liberation. but it makes me so mad every day i have to live in a world where there are still people restrained, locked up in psych wards, having all autonomy and personhood taken away from them. knowing there are dozens of people every day getting blamed for their deaths the same way he was blamed for his.
i miss him. i cared so fucking much for him. and he died by suicide, and all of those things are true. he has been dead for 6 years and he lived before that and the people who loved him want to remember all of him; our celebrations of his life should not require hiding the way that he died.
Image description: [1000 origami cranes in all different colors and patterns that are tied together in strings of 25]
(these were the 1000 cranes we made to give to his parents, in memorial and recognition of how much he meant to us.)
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Hot take about Sky angst, regarding the curse of Demise, because I haven't seen anyone talking about this possibility in all those years I've been in LU fandom.
Guys...
Sky has no idea about the curse
Because think about it. Why would he know about it?
My man has been electrocuted multiple times, with magical - basically divine - lightnings in attempt to defeat Demise. All the while fighting for his life with a literal GOD OF EVIL, after spending an entire afternoon fighting an army of monsters and a Demon Lord/creepy ass Sword Spirit. Not even mentioning how worried sick he must have been that entire time, if this time he was also too late too save Zelda.
(always too late too slow not enough and late late late)
I don't know about you, but I don't think he was in any state of body or mind to listen to some dudes last words, when he had to focus on not passing out because he has to make sure Zelda/Sun is alright.
(It got a bit long so rest of the rant under the cut)
Fi gave him clear, that Demise received a mortal blow and that now it's only a matter of time until he dies and that was all Sky needed to stop paying any attention.
Just go through the motions. His vision is blurry, but that's alright just stay awake. Fi chimes to rise his sword. He does. There is some black smoke suddenly surrounding him, but Fi get's rid of it with her light so it's fine. It's probably why she asked him to rise her skyward. The last fifteen minutes he's been following her directions nearly blindly anyway, because his mind is still foggy, he's not sure where he is or what he is doing he just have to get to Zelda.
And then she's there. And everything is fine.
Impa fades, Fi sleeps and he finally rests. Or rather crashes as the exhaustion finally catches up to him.
But he recovers, as best as he can, and live on.
And then eight other heroes, just like him, appear and take him on a quest across the time. They become friends. Then brothers. Soon he feels like they knew each other their entire lives and can't imagine how he can move on after the inevitable goodbyes.
He is so happy that no matter what, there will always be someone among his people, someone from or even outside of Hyrule, to stand up against evil, no matter how many times it will try to show it's ugly face. He's a bit bummed that there even is a need for a hero to show up, but hey! He is not so naive to think people are and always will be only good. Things happen. Some people are just terrible, and some take it out on the entire world.
But somewhere along the line, he starts to notice... something weird.
They all fought that same guy (some of them even multiple times!) called Ganon or Ganondorf. And while he is overjoyed that none of them even heard the name of Demise, he feels kind of singled out. Few of them mentioned an idea of reincarnation. Mentioning Zeldas' connection through blood of the Goddess and their connection through a spirit.
A spirit of a hero.
He always though it was a figure of speech. A way to describe someone courageous who fulfills the quota of being a hero.
But it's not about a spirit of a hero.
No.
It's the Spirit of the Hero.
His Spirit.
An idea begins to form. A distant memory he didn't even knew he had. Maybe nightmares about that fateful fight starting to get clearer by night. Maybe he spends some time talking to Fi and he does not like the feeling he gets from her chimes, even if she can't really talk in her slumber. Maybe he even prays to Hylia in some distant era in an unfamiliar place, so she can deny or confirm his suspicions.
Goddesses, please, may he be wrong.
Because he loves them all like a family. Because they are family. Because he has seen their haunted expressions and blank eyes, he has heard their stories and horrors they went through and nearly all of them were so young, too young, and the thought that he was the direct cause of it-
Sky had no idea that Demise trapped his spirit in a cycle of reincarnation. He had no time to process it or find coping mechanisms before the adventure with the chain happened. He found out during it, slowly putting it together and coming apart at the seems before their eyes.
Sky didn't know about the curse.
And I say, it could be really interesting to watch Sky fall.
(And if anyone knows a fic exploring this idea please let me know! I searched but couldn't find any)
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