Straight to the Brain
There are any number of possible lenses through which to view music – genre, instrumentation, lyrical themes, political implications, and the list goes on. A new lens came to my attention recently when I made the following realization:
The more cerebral music is, the closer I want to put it to my head.
Sounds a little silly, but it’s true. It’s the difference between a headphone album and an open-air album, and it doesn’t just come down to wanting to listen more closely to music I like better. In fact, while I’d rank Reckless Kelly’s Bulletproof slightly ahead of Rodney Crowell’s Sex and Gasoline for pure enjoyment, it sounds all wrong to me through headphones. It’s the sort of urgent, driving music that needs to be played out loud and allowed to fill the air around it. The Crowell album, on the other hand, doesn’t sound right cranking out of my stereo system: some of its substance seems to blow away. To get it in its purest, most potent form, I have to inject it directly into my ear canal. It’s like a private conversation cheapened by the possibility that others might overhear it.
I wouldn’t say that a headphone album is better than an open-air album or vice versa. It’s just a matter of different kinds of music inviting different kinds of relationships. Does this distinction exist only in my head, or is your choice of music influenced by how you’ll be listening? Are there albums you love but have to listen to one way or the other?
I completely relate to the phenomenon you’re talking about, although I apparently have it exactly the opposite; I prefer having the loud, driving stuff run directly into my head, like a great jolt of electricity (like, I actually have some Reckless Kelly on my “running” playlists), and can usually only appreciate more nuanced music when it has some space to fill, like it’s a conversation I’m having with a friend sitting a few feet away.
As an example of both, I found most of Meet Glen Campbell jarringly cacophonous coming out of my speakers, but then fell in love with the really big tracks later on when they suddenly came rushing through my headphones. On the other hand, I find that I enjoy the Joey + Rory album a lot more when the very subdued stories can sort of fill up the room. When I’m walking around, though, the songs mostly feel too esoteric, and I become detached. It’s weird. And I’m not as good at explaining it as you are, ha.
Kathy Mattea’s Coal needs headphones for me, as when I use speakers it’s in my car, and most of the album is slow songs.
It’s not country, but Radiohead’s In Rainbows needs headphones for me to get the true depth to the instruments of the songs.
I absolutely understand where you’re coming from. I can’t think of specific examples right now, but I know that I’ve listened to albums on my earphones and didn’t quite dig it, but then listened to the same thing through speakers and fell in love…and the other way around as well.
Kim Richey’s Bittersweet album was always sweeter through headphones. If you ever want to really give yourself a treat, go listen to ‘I Know’ at full volume with a good set of headphones. It’s magic.
Really cool discussion too. I love this blog so much …
Thanks for the thoughtful responses.
If anyone would like to check out J.R.’s recommendation, you can listen to “I Know” on Last.fm right now for free. I just did and it was indeed a treat.