Planted and Enchanted: Vol. 7 - August '20
“You never trust a millionaire
Quoting the sermon on the mount
I used to think I was not like them
But I’m beginning to have my doubts
My doubts about it”
You can enjoy the Planted and Enchanted: Vol. 7 playlist in its entirety on Spotify. Just click on the included Spotify plugin.
Playlist Highlight: Arcade Fire, City with No Children
“This meeting is being recorded” delivered by cold and robotic female voice has been a linchpin of the eight million or so Zoom work meetings I’ve taken over the last five months. Something about its abrupt volume and matter-of-fact tone feels intrusive, scrutinizing, and devoid of all humanity. When I hear those words, I know that swearing (a great past-time of mine) is off the table, and each word I say might as well be matter of public record; which pretty much forces me to choose my words more carefully than a mafia don at a RICO hearing.
It also transports me back exactly ten years. At that time, I was in college and hosted a sports talk show for my campus radio station. Before I could ever go on air, the strict FCC guidelines for radio broadcasts (that laughably encompassed the meager broom closet we used as a studio which produced a signal so faint, it only reached as far as the local Walmart, five miles away) was pounded into my head (and ramen-filled body) . Once again, swearing was off the table. Failure to comply might result in a major fine, a shut-down of the radio station, and risk of expulsion. (Eff.)
Coincidentally, my program started the same month that our Playlist Highlight was released. Perhaps the biggest and most talked about Indie Record of that year, Arcade Fire’s “The Suburbs,” was six years removed from the band’s inaugural and super-duper critically acclaimed album “Funeral.” The new album’s considerable hype was at met - if not exceeded; all but confirmed by its Album of the Year victory at the 2011 Grammy's.
While not a classic concept album per se, there’s no denying that the theme that runs down the spine of each song is that of suburban life. Win Butler, the band’s front-man, was inspired by his youth spent living in residential Houston, saying in regards to the record:
“[It] is neither a love letter to, nor an indictment of, the suburbs – it's a letter from the suburbs.”
As a child of the suburbs myself, I related to the album, although in my characteristically cynical way. (By the way, it’s pronounced Mc-Don-Uh, not Mc-Dun-Uh; anyone who tells you otherwise is just plain wrong.) To me, it was a place that was culturally vacant. All of the restaurants were chains. There was no art or music or film scene. Creativity and “being-different” was either looked at skeptically or flat out discouraged. The worst part was that all this blandness and conformity seemed to have come about via some purposeful grand design.
The whole apparatus was built like an assembly line. Raise your children in the suburbs where they can be safe (read: kept away from others), get a good education, admitted into a nice college whereby they could start a “nice” career. All so that they could afford an expensive house…in the suburbs.
I’m not saying the above is a bad thing, it’s just simply not meant for everyone - and ironically elicit the great art it seems designed to suppress. Indeed, John Updike wrote in relation to his Rabbit Run series:
“My subject is the American Protestant small-town middle class. I like middles. It is in middles that extremes clash, where ambiguity restlessly rules.“
It’s where other writers like Steinbeck and Cheever have had their field days. An examination of the individual who has accumulated the nice car, nice house, and nice family and completely bought into the uniquely American idea that if one could obtain all three, then it would ensure a happy life - only to find out that that’s not necessarily the case has lead to enlightening analyses of a complex theme.
Arcade Fire, in “City with No Children” and “The Suburbs” more broadly, plays in the same sandbox, fighting earnestly (and sometimes violently) against this inertia that perpetuates the suburban sprawl. There’s an obvious fear of turning into millionaire that can - in convincing phoniness - recite the beatitudes to maintain the status quo.
This song and this album provokes the listener to challenge themselves to answer the following question: Is this what I really want out of life? Be careful how you answer, this meeting is being recorded.
What is Planted and Enchanted?
If you’re anything like me, you surely have a “junk drawer” somewhere in your home. It probably consists of an old flashlight with dead batteries in it, a handful of rubber bands alongside some pens running low on ink, enough loose keys for you to qualify as a middle school janitor, some birthday cards given to you years ago (how quickly can I throw these away without it being rude? Better wait another decade just to be safe.), the box to your old iPhone simply because it’s a pretty darn cool box, and a small library of service manuals for among other things: your refrigerator, hot water heater, and that Instant Pot you used just the one time.
I don’t consider my junk drawer “worthless” mind you, but rather see it a collection of delightful discoveries (Hey! I didn’t know I had a yo-yo!), and delightful rediscoveries (So that’s where my playing cards were!).
That’s my aim for this playlist series: Planted and Enchanted. A monthly track list consisting of songs that likely won’t fit perfectly together in a classic album sense, but are useful in planting the seeds of discovery of new genres, artists, and songs as well as the unearthing of music you loved but had long since forgotten about. Who knows, there may even be a hidden theme or two that the savvy listener can piece together. The best part about this playlist? If you don’t like it, that’s okay. We’re talking about junk after all.
If you have a specific song that you’ve recently discovered or come to love, we’d love to hear from you. Just email us at freshcutfinds@gmail.com. We’re planning to roll out more content and a new playlist series in the coming months. Stay tuned!
Each month, we put together a playlist of our favorite discoveries new & old. Each playlist will be about the length of a mix CD (80 mins) and will be sent around the 15th of each month. Subscribe with your email address to receive the monthly Planted and Enchanted playlist, plus other occasional speciaty playlists.
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