Surprise!

It was a bit of a special weekend. Friday I put together a surprise birthday do which went off without a hitch. I was such a nervous wreck about it though (Will someone accidentally let slip? Will I drop the cake? Will the bar give me plates? Will everyone be there on time?) that I don't think I could manage the drama of a bigger production than this simple get-together.

Sunday I went to the zoo and saw clown fish, tarantulas, giraffes, goats, mating tapirs, mating birds from South America and fat crocodiles. It was fun to see it with kids, who basically ran helter skelter most of the time with small pauses of curiosity. And fun to listen to their witty patter (no, selfish is not a type of fish). Not so fun was observing the polar bears, gorillas and elephants, who seemed despondent. Or is that ridiculously anthropomorphic?

In the evening we rode a no.2 tram strung up in white and blue fairy lights to MUPA. There was a Santa onboard handing out szaloncukor to all the passengers, a friendly conductor telling everyone the ride was on the house, and some echoing Italian tourists. Drivers in passing cars held out mobiles to take pictures. Didn't look very safe that, though I quite enjoyed feeling like a rock star.

The occasion at MUPA was a concert of Steve Reich's music by Amadinda, playing a world premiere, a Hungarian premiere, and Music for 18 Musicians. The Daniel Variations, written in memory of the journalist Daniel Pearl, was the middle piece, and it was unexpectedly (though really it shouldn't have been unexpected) wrenching. Particularly when the strings played their interlocking duets, joined by the most quotidian of phrases, "My name is Daniel", repeated over and over. It sounded sometimes like a cry for help, sometimes a reclamation of identity.

The first piece was pretty but didn't stand out. Music for 18 Musicians was phenomenal to watch live, and it stretched out even though I'm familiar with it. I was sitting in the last row and could see the increased fidgeting (and Mr. Reich, in his trademark black cap, by the mixing board, not fidgeting at all). It was fascinating to watch a piece with no conductor and see the patterns physically - the piano/marimba pairs raising their arms in choreography, the musicians changing places and exchanging instruments, the bass clarinetists swaying back and forth with their waves of pulses, the ant-worker pianists playing those chords for an eternity a la Bolero snare drum. I was rapt.

When the concert ended it occurred to me that Reich is a fan of Radiohead and I entertained the idea of going up to him and asking him which was his favourite album/track. I reckon it's from Kid A.

My 99-09 albums of the decade

Because Neil asked.

So my list defies a lot of conventions in best-of-decade lists inundating the websphere. First of all, it's not necessarily music released in the last decade. It's also over a period of 11 years rather than 10, because 1999 is the year I finished university and started working and living abroad. My main criteria for picking these albums is either that it was the starting point for something, or that I still listen to them on a regular basis.

Because Neil asked, there are no Radiohead albums on this list.

I've listed them in the order that I first heard them.

The Sundays - Reading, Writing and Arithmetic
You never forget that voice - cheeky and uplifting by turns - and the album is full of melodic gems. Choice tracks: Can't Be Sure, You're Not The Only One I Know, and my favourite - My Finest Hour. I have great memories of jamming with Rik at Pantai Panorama and feeling heady and breathless after singing those final phrases.

Jonatha Brooke - 10 Cent Wings
I first got to know her from singing versions of songs from her old band The Story in an a cappella group, and then her brilliant first album Plumb, but this album is the one that I love to sing to from beginning to end (except for track 5, which sounds like it doesn't belong somehow). I've also seen her live, in a chapel actually, with about 50 people in the audience. In the middle of the show she paused and said "Ok, anyone got any questions about the songs?" I wish I'd had the guts to speak up.

The Roots - Things Fall Apart
Before the advent of downloads, there were pirated CDs of chart music, and discarded demos from the Western world which got clipped/damaged and then surreptitiously (or not) shipped to China for sale in beat-up corner shops, which is where I found this album. Though it's best listened to from beginning to end, with the arc of amazing energy in the middle, and You Got Me towards the end with Erykah Badu's perfect lyrical phrasing of its refrain; The Next Movement is what first seduced me.

Jeff Buckley - Grace
I remember the look of shock on Miriam's face when I told her I'd never heard of Jeff Buckley. Since then I've brought this album with me through the dusty streets of Beijing during a scorching summer, sung to it in the shower in Poland, felt great pleasure at introducing it to a friend in the car riding through PJ. It is a complete album - it rocks out, it covers Nina Simone, Leonard Cohen and Benjamin Britten, and it lavishes epic love songs in unexpected modulations on its adoring fan base.

Aphex Twin - Selected Ambient Works 85–92
This album made me realise electronic music doesn't have to obnoxious and involve blaring diva vocals. It's also very difficult to listen to when you have inferior players/systems/headphones, because the bass just drops out. It's a pretty dark album, but few pieces of music bring as much euphoria as Xtal.

Sufjan Stevens - Greetings from Michigan: The Great Lakes State
I'd never heard anything like it: a weedy voice singing about Detroit over layered orchestrations of horns, xylophones, strings and drums repeating phrases over and over. An epic project that must've influenced the Arcade Fires to come. Or was it the other way around? In any case I discovered Arcade Fire, Bell Orchestre, and all the other shouty, orchestrated indie ensembles that followed after this album.

Sigur Ros - Ágætis Byrjun
Other-wordly and forever tied, for me, to the doomed love and lush tropics of A Suitable Boy by Vikram Seth, because it took me ages to read that book and I was listening to this album on repeat through the novel. And since it's become one of my favourite novels that I enjoy rereading, I end up 'listening' to this album a lot too.

Elbow - Cast of Thousands
I'm now a huge Elbow fan, thanks to a different Neil, and this was the first album of theirs I listened to. Since then I've come to prefer other albums before and after, but this charmed me off the bat with the first lines "We blew the doors, didn't we?/Pissed in their champagne" and Guy Garvey's hurt-big-man voice.

Low - Things We Lost In The Fire
So apparently this sub genre of indie is called slowcore (to go with mumblecore films?) all of which sound vaguely pornographic. This album is all about the vocal layers, and my favourites are Medicine Magazines, July and In Metal, but the opening track Sunflower definitely signals the harmonies to come. And then all of a sudden I was listening to Midlake, Fleet Foxes, etc.

Bon Iver - For Emma, Forever Ago
Of all the albums here, this is the only one I found by reading about it online, which is how I often find music these days. It's beloved by a slew of music critics for a lot of eloquent reasons; I'm just a sucker for melodic love songs like Re: Stacks.

So there you have it. A predictable selection, perhaps, but I enjoyed writing this and listening to my own Youtube/iTunes playlist while doing it.

And Neil, Kid A!