The original plan yesterday was to go to the gym for some weights since it was pretty cool and windy out, but then I saw some triathlon peers of mine ride by at Mach 3 and, well, I was pretty much silently shamed into going out on my bike instead. I’m sure glad I did as despite the wind and the cold, it was awesome to be training outside on the bike again. I know it should be so obvious, but I’m stickler for routine so that casual reminder after a long winter of indoor riding sure helps. So I’m only getting around to listening to yesterday’s intended weights album now during my “easy” 8.25k drill and tempo run (w/u: 2.25k easy w/ drills, Main: 5k @ 5:25kph pace, w/d: 1k easy).
I first saw the name appear on a list of ‘Favorite Albums’ that has been circulating Facebook lately amongst my friends and, not having heard of them before, decided it was something I needed to check out. After all, when friends make mention of something that they really adore (particularly music-wise) that’s something you investigate – pronto! – especially when that friend also goes by “Frothingbadger”. So today’s musical exploration is the incredibly trippy ‘Lost and Safe‘ album by the Books.
The Books are an American duo, formed in New York City in 1999, consisting of guitarist and vocalist Nick Zammuto and cellist Paul de Jong. Their releases have typically incorporated samples of obscure sounds and speech into a musical collage of organic weirdness…or so I have since been told anyway. On April 5th, 2005, they released this (their 3rd) studio album which was ultimately well received by critics (and my friends apparently). Stylistically, it is in the same vein as their previous albums (apparently), continuing their rich use of samples as diverse as Raymond Baxter (“That’s the picture. You s-you see it for yourself.”), W. H. Auden (“This great society is going smash / A culture is no better than its woods”, from his poem “Bucolics: II, Woods“), and a reading of Lewis Carroll’s poem “Jabberwocky“. It’s just a smattering of random imagery and quips being hurled at you willy-nilly all set to a backdrop of musical whimsy…and I love it.
This album would be perfect for a yoga soundtrack (not that I enjoyed it any less while running today) and ideal for a long, slow stretch; probably not so much for lifting weights so it’s a good thing yesterday’s training plans got thwarted I guess. Now I’m going to have to try and hunt out other Books albums for future workouts to boot.
Mental Note to Self: Why do dog walkers collect their dogs crap in little baggies and then hang those bags from a tree branch? Is there some magical “Dog Shit Fairy” that I don’t know about?