So the term âmusicalâ sort of makes me get a rash, but concept albums, I love that idea of there being a bit more to think about. You can just kind of listen to it on a superficial level, and letâs face it, weâre talking about me here, so this is the most kind of superficial kind of music. If these songs donât work in a superficial way, then Iâm a fucking failure, because thatâs my number one aim: to make people want to dance and sing something stupid.
đ Only The Shit You Love
Looking forward to Damian Cowell’s latest innovation, especially what insights it might have on the topic of ‘dystopia’.
There were a number of things that converged with me deciding to read the first volume in Marcel Proustâs epic Remembrance of Things Past / In Search of Lost Time. Firstly, there was mention of Proust in the BBC In Our Time episode on Bergson and time. Secondly, Stanley Kim Robinson mentioned his love of Proust in an interview. Lastly, the anti-hero of Damian Cowellâs series Only the Shit You Love is named Marcell Proust and although I felt I understood the association also wondered what I was missing.
I am not sure if I really âreadâ Swannâs Way? I did not give up after the first few pages. I think it helped listening to the text. For me, Swannâs Way was one of those texts that lingers long after.
Meandering through the relationship of Swann and Odette felt like watching a car crash that you know is going to happen long before the point of impact. Although he comes out of it suggesting that she was not his type, it still feels like a case of one of those stories we tell ourselves to get to sleep at night.
Marginalia
Criticism
School of Life
Reading group: Bogged down on Swannâs Way? (Sam Jordison)
How to read Proust â A guide to getting through Remembrance of Things Past (Matthew Walther)
William C. Carter
Oliver Munday
Reflecting upon Spotifyâs Wrapped, the yearly review, Kelly Pau reminds us of the place of algorithms and artificial intelligence embedded within these choices:
These choices and recommendations often come with their own sets of biases and assumptions around gender and mood. They help mold a âtemplated selfâ or what David Marshall describes as a dual strategic personadual strategic persona:
Although these curations are designed to share, I am more interested in using them as a point of reflection. I am always intrigued about what they do and do not say about my listening habits this year, this goes with the regular recommendations as well. I actually wonder if Spotify Wrapped reflects the place that music has served at times this year, a form of fast food, consumed as a means of escape, rather than something to stop and consider. For me, this has led to more pop at times. In addition to this, my statistics are corrupted in that I often play music for my children.
In addition to this, there are quite a few albums not on Spotify, which have soundtracked my year, such as Kate Bushâs Before The Dawn and Damian Cowellâs Only the Shit You Love. Also, I created a playlist of all the tracks that Damian Cowell mentioned on his podcast, which I noticed totally threw out my recommendations at times too.
á„ âwiobyrneâ in Brands To Be Refined â Digitally Literate (12/30/2021 12:21:40)
In his spiel for the Pozible Campaign, Only the Shit You Love is describes as:
However, he also stated in an interview around the time the Pozible campaign was announced that:
Like a novel which pronounces the death of the protagonist on the first page to flag that worrying about such trivialities is not what matters, Cowell started his first podcast by outlining some of the themes:
While in the episode of Tony Martinâs Sizzletown at the end of the album track I Wanna Be The Shit You Love, a caller is used to provide the following summary:
This narrative is carried through the web series. Although the text of the lyrics are often included within the clips, these videos are more than just lyrical videos. They each carry the narrative in their own manner. The style seems to be borrow from a number of places. There is a hat tip to shows like The Archies and Josie and the Pussycats), but it is way more than that. Although the representations are sometimes crude and slightly ridiculous â Cartoon descriptions? How else to describe a cartoon world? â they are always pertinent. (I will never see Osher GĂŒnsberg the same way again.) In addition to the storyline running throughout, Cowell always keeps things real by providing his own critique of his work with a running commentary in the margins.
In regards to the album, Only the Shit You Love contains Cowellâs usual witty observations on the world.
In relation to the concept, Cowell explained in a conversation with Anthea Cohen, that the songs came first and the album can be listened separately to the series. However, he also explained that as ideas came together, changes were made to fit the songs together.
One change to the first two Disco Machine albums was exploration of different dynamics and tempos. The usual upbeat tracks are still present, such as Here Comes the Disco Machine and Whatever Happened To Jessieâs Girl, however they are also contrasted by slower numbers, such as Old Sneakers and I Wanna Be The Shit You Love. Although I am not sure how some of these slower tracks would fit with the high octane live show, this works within the contrasts of the double album to aid in helping it ebb and flow. It never really feels like a double album.
Associated with this change in dynamics, was the blend between electronic and acoustic instruments. For example, a track like The Plot Thins begins with a pulsing synth line to then progressively build as the song unfolds, before the guitars and drums come in at the end.
Connected with each of the episodes of the web series was a podcast. This is not some Glenn. A Baker of Cowellâs time in TISM, something he has always said that he would not do. Instead it provides a means for reframing our connection with him. Although there is an intent to provide some commentary to each episode, more often than not, the podcast is really a dive into the esoteric parts of Cowellâs existence and interests. As he explains in an interview for Rolling Stone:
The indulgence of so many episodes with nobody else to interrupt allows Cowell to elaborate on his recipe for music in detail. In his discussion a few years ago with Zan Rowe on the Take 5 podcast, Cowell spoke about the importance of music challenging the listener.
Throughout the episodes, he elaborates what such music might sound like, whether it be melodic bass, accountable guitar, unconventional beats, rich harmonies and a general disdain for categories. To contextualise all this, he provided a wide range of examples. By the end of the series, the playlist I collated of all the tracks referenced stretched to 7 hours.
In the end, I was not sure what I was in for when I threw my support behind Damian Cowellâs latest Pozible campaign. All I can say is that I was not disappointed. It was all something of a slow burn. In modern world of binghing, it was strangely refreshing to have something to look forward to, especially during lockdown. It has also led to a number of new discoveries, such as reading Marcel Proust for the first time. It has been interesting to read some of commentary on Proust as a lens for better appreciating Cowellâs work and Only the Shit You Love.
Also on: