[Tokyo Jihad]

#10 and #4: Trailer Park and Central Reservation

It wasn’t even two years since that night I bought First Band on the Moon, but my musical sphere had grown exponentially since. Less and less of the music videos shown during the normal hours were appealing to me, and MTV was gradually ceding to the TRL generation -- which offered nothing to me. Sometime in late summer ‘98 I had discovered MTV’s 120 Minutes, a block at midnight Sunday (turning Monday) where they evidently hid all the good music. I would religiously stay up to watch; even if I was lucky to catch more than four videos before succumbing to sleep. One thing was clear, my musical ear was skewing further from Top 40 and more alternative and underground. It must have been the first Sunday of 1999 where 120 Minutes held one of the most memorable episodes ever. They were doing a recap of the best “120 Minutes” videos of 1998. I’ll never forget the first three videos they played, all which still hold a special place in my heart. The first video floored me, “All You Good, Good People” by Embrace, I was already proclaiming it my favorite song ever after one play. Soon after they played “Get Myself Arrested” by Gomez, another awesome song I was excited about! The song they played in between the two I thought was pretty okay too. It was a nice song called “Stolen Car” by some lady named Beth Orton.

Napster was waiting on the other side of 1999, so 30 second samples from CD Now was all I had to pacify myself until I could get ahold of the real CDs. I went to a mom and pop CD shop that focused on imported cds looking for these three CDs. To my dismay, not even they had Embrace’s Good Will Out, which of course appealed to me most. I approached the owner and asked if they had the cd “in the back” (the fabled area where stores keep exactly what you are looking for.) The man said they didn’t carry the record, but he could order it for me. I agreed. He asked if there were any other CDs I was looking for. Thinking that the Gomez album would be equally elusive, I asked if he could also order the Beth Orton album -- which I also could not find in his store that day. He took a quick look at his books, charged into “the back” and returned with a sealed copy of Central Reservation.

Central Reservation was not my m.o. at this time. My current infatuation was with big, heavy rock akin to Oasis’ Be Here Now, hence why the Embrace video appealed to me so much. But I was a big fan of “Stolen Car” and something about the idea that Beth Orton was unknown to everyone around appealed to me. (Proto-hipster alert?) I approached the CD with an open mind and came out amazed. Mostly amazed that I dug it so much. It was unexplainable (at the time.) I liked my loud guitars, arena sing-alongs, and distortion pedals. Why did this electronica folkie (with just a touch of jazz rhythm) click with me so much? To be honest, it still astounds me. I just like that folk sound, especially with a female singer. It was different from just about every CD in my collection up to that point and it was one of the fewer I enjoyed end to end.

That spring I would track down Beth Orton’s debutTrailer Park and together my #’s 10 and 4 albums would create the soundtrack for that year. Practically sister albums, I find it difficult to chose one above the other. Trailer Park is definitely the more social album. Filled with jangly acoustic songs akin to what you might hear at a hip coffee shop or around the college campus. There is also a higher concentration of electronic based songs. In fact Trailer Park continuously plays with your expectations. It starts with “She Cries Your Name,” guitar based with an increasing number of electro embellishments. The next song, “Tangent,” is full on, no denying, trip-hop. This is followed by the most mournfully acoustic song on the record. If the rest of the album is deceivingly optimistic (like the superb “How Far” and “Sugar Boy”) the moody jewel “Touch me with Your Love” reminds you of the slow burning heart of the album.

Central Reservation is the more introspective album. Paired down are the full-blown electronic songs. In Trailer Park, I feel Beth Orton is showing you around town. You’re walking, seeing the sights, taking in the experience. Central Reservation Beth Orton invites you inside her house. There’s less to do, but you are taking in the things that make her who she is. The family photos, that dusty chair in the living room, the stories she tells of people and events passed. Central Reservation is a much more simply produced album, but that much more complex album. There’s less diversity in terms of “happy/sad” “fast/slow” “electric/acoustic” but tonally and point of view is what makes up the breadth of the album. Trailer Park is the ebb and flow of Beth Orton: performer and Central Reservation is the drifting thoughts, like when attempting to sleep, of Beth Orton: the person.

That year, I pimped and promoted my Beth Orton CDs to anyone that might be in earshot. I received consistent raised eyebrows -- not too surprising in a world where Britney Spears, Nsync, and Eminem were beginning to dominate. It was still disheartening. I was enjoying Beth Orton more and more with each listen, and had no one relate to. (Okay, this hasn’t particularly changed over the years.)

My day would come, though. It was now December of 1999. I browsed Amazon.com and saw they had a list of the 100 best albums of the year -- the first of what would become a tradition for me to peruse. The big album that year was Santana’s “Supernatural.” It was everywhere and everyone was proclaiming it’s greatness at all times. As the page loaded, I mused to myself that “It would be cool if it is someone like Beth Orton had the #1 album, instead of Supernatural.” I sat there stunned when it loaded. As if psychic: #2: Santana - Supernatural. #1: Beth Orton - Central Reservation.

I pumped my fist. I was filled with vindication -- critical validation. The taste was delicious. I liked something that no one else l knew liked. What did they know? My favorite album was deemed the album of the year! It is a dragon I chase to this day. Beth Orton’s first two records are hugely important for me. They represent one of my first forays into non-radio-top 40 music, and my growth as a listener.

(Oh yeah! What felt like months later [no idea how long it took] I would receive the Embrace album I had forgotten about. My excitement renewed when I received it finally, but predictably, I no longer found “All you Good, Good People” to be my favorite song ever. Oh well.)