#oneaday Day 110: Listen to albums

I’ve been trying to make an effort, when I listen to music, to put a full album on and let it run all the way through. It’s how I enjoyed listening to music as a teen and twentysomething — I had a big CD collection that I kind of wish I hadn’t gotten rid of now — and I’m beginning to drift back into preferring that kind of listening now, too.

Y’see, I’ve become increasingly conscious of the “media as content” problem that we, as a society, have been enthusiastically plunging ourselves headfirst into. Music has become disposable, and streaming services have made it very difficult for career musicians to… well, have a career out of music. Not only that, there is a not-insignificant number of people out there now who simply don’t respect music for its artistry; they just want “background noise”. Doesn’t matter what it is, so long as it’s noise.

I had a 3+ hour drive to and from the office yesterday and today respectively, so I decided to listen to some music rather than putting a podcast on. And I deliberately set up my music queue to play several full albums in succession rather than just a selection of favourite tracks — or, worse, just sticking it on “Shuffle” or “Radio” and letting it do its thing.

I really enjoyed it. And there’s still something very pleasant about listening to an entire album in the context it’s supposed to be heard. Really good albums feel like they’re taking you on a journey; it’s not necessarily that they have a narrative (though, of course, some do) but they do have a definite sense of progression from track to track. This is particularly evident in the case of stuff like Prodigy’s The Fat of the Land, which smoothly transitions one track into the next, making for one continuous soundscape that evolves in character and energy as it progresses through its complete runtime.

I will attempt to outline my enjoyment of several albums that I found to be particular highlights throughout both journeys.

WWDD – Dempagumi.inc

I can’t remember how I first came across Dempagumi.inc, a Japanese idol group that has been around since 2008, but I remember being very struck with this particular album from 2015 the first time I heard it. The songs were catchy and it felt like there was a sense of narrative to it. I didn’t understand a word of it, of course, with it being all in Japanese, but I felt like that didn’t matter all that much; what does matter to the Dempagumi.inc experience is being swept along by the energy of the group.

One track that I particularly like is Dear Stage e Youkoso (above). It’s not necessarily the song on the album that I would describe as the “best”, but the narrative setup of a seemingly downtrodden-sounding man discovering the real-life idol bar Dear Stage really works well. The listener finds themselves inhabiting the role of this man who gradually discovers joy through surrounding himself with the energy of the idols, and it feels like the performance is just for you. Or him. Or both. Whatever. Anyway, it’s good.

The whole album is energetic and enjoyable, and it’s one I come back to a lot. Definitely a good.

These Nuts – Ninja Sex Party

I absolutely adore Ninja Sex Party, the musical outfit run by Dan Avidan (best known as half of Game Grumps) and theoretical physicist Brian Wecht. Their work captures an absolutely perfect balance between being perfect pastiches of classic ’80s rock and ballads, and being utterly, hilariously absurd. I could pick any Ninja Sex Party album to go in this slot, but These Nuts, their album from this year, is the one that particularly stuck in my mind today.

The opening track (after Danny Sexbang’s obligatory introduction) is one of my favourites. Get Ready (To Get Ready) is a brilliantly energetic piece about people who will never be quite ready to do something when you want them to be — there’s always one little thing to do, an email to send or something like that. The whole thing is delivered with such overblown earnestness that it’s hard not to enjoy it.

Sports Anthem is also brilliant just because of the mental image it conjures up. It doesn’t matter what sport it’s referring to — because it doesn’t refer to any specific one, and one suspects that neither Danny Sexbang nor Ninja Brian being really into sports is definitely part of the joke — the sentiment of “don’t fuck it up” is universal.

The Fat of the Land – Prodigy

I vividly remember when I “discovered” Prodigy. I was on a bus for a school trip of some description, and my partial namesake Peter Miles was listening to a CD single of Breathe by Prodigy. I asked him if I could have a listen, and was immediately taken by, more than anything, the immensely satisfying drumbeat.

I hadn’t really thought much of Prodigy prior to this. I’d probably heard Out of Space in passing, and I absolutely detested Firestarter the first time I heard it — though this was, in part, reflected disgust from my parents who, quite understandably, didn’t understand the appeal.

But Breathe resonated with me for some reason, even though I still don’t know what the actual words are. And when The Fat of the Land came out, I listened to it a lot. I liked Firestarter in context, though it was probably my least favourite track on the album.

Returning to it today, it’s a great album. An absolute punch in the face of noise for most of its runtime, of course, but it has that really great sense of progression I was talking about before. Wisely, the whole album doesn’t rely on heavy basslines and driving rhythms as in Breathe; around the midpoint there are several more downtempo numbers including the famous Mindfields (probably known by most people due to it being in The Matrix), the Crispian Mills-fronted Narayan and the instrumental Climbatize, all of which I rather like (though I must admit I’d forgotten about Climbatize until today’s listen). Definitely one I will likely pop on when I’m in the mood for something loud.

Album-making is definitely an art form, and I worry that it’s something we’re at risk of losing — as with so many forms of culture. I feel like in the last 25 years or so we’ve lost more forms of culture than we’ve gained; the vapid brain-rotting dogshit that is TikTok doesn’t feel like a very fair exchange for listening to full albums being the norm.

Still, it’s not as if those old albums have gone away. So I’m going to continue making a point of listening to full albums as much as I can. And if you haven’t done it for a while, I recommend giving it a go — you might be pleasantly surprised at how enjoyable it is.

Want to read my thoughts on various video games, visual novels and other popular culture things? Stop by MoeGamer.net, my site for all things fun where I am generally a lot more cheerful. And if you fancy watching some vids on classic games, drop by my YouTube channel.

#oneaday Day 67: The pleasure of organisation

Ahead of the new piano arriving on Friday, we bought a new filing cabinet. The idea was to replace the clapped-out old bookshelf we have in the back room that currently holds my music books, and to just generally tidy up that back room a bit now that there’s going to be a nice shiny piano in there.

I derive quite a bit of pleasure from organisation. I often have a bit (all right, a lot) of trouble actually getting started, but once I do, I find it immensely satisfying to put everything into place, sort things into alphabetical order and know that everything has a “right place” to put things into. By the same token, our larder cupboard in our kitchen drives me nuts because it’s a chaotic bomb site of a cupboard, where you take your life into your own hands any time you attempt to extract something from it without causing an avalanche of baking materials, cereal and cat food.

I know exactly why I derive such pleasure from organisation, of course; it is doubtless to do with the autism, what with one of the key characteristics of those of us On The Spectrum being an appreciation for orderliness, routines, patterns and suchlike. Even better if said orderliness is all your own work rather than a structure built by someone else that you’re having to adapt to.

Going through the music books was nice for another reason: it made me realise that I have a lot of them, and there’s a fair old chunk of music in them that I’ve just never played. For the most part, the music books I own fall into two categories: those which I acquired while I was actively having piano tuition, which are mostly “classical” books from historical art music composers; and those which I have acquired in more recent years, which tend to be piano arrangements of soundtracks from video games and anime that I particularly appreciate. I’ve been playing a lot more of the latter in more recent years, but with the new piano it might be time to revisit (or explore further) into the other stuff.

The reason why I own so much stuff and haven’t played a lot of it is simple: when learning stuff while having piano tuition, my teachers would often suggest a piece of music to learn, which was only available as part of a larger book, usually of a single composer’s work. So for example when I learned how to play Liszt’s Consolation No. 3, I also acquired a book of other short piano pieces by Liszt (including, among other things, the other Consolations). When I learned a Mozart sonata, I then had access to all the Mozart sonatas because while you can buy some of these pieces as individual sheet music, it’s generally more worthwhile in the long term to buy “The Complete Mozart Sonatas” or equivalent.

So I’ve got a lot of stuff to explore once the new piano gets here. I’m going to have to get back into the habit of playing more frequently, but I suspect with a decent-quality instrument readily available, that won’t be too much of an ordeal. Getting myself back up to the standard I was once at might take a bit more work, but I’m sure it’ll be worth it as another means of expressing and enjoying myself if nothing else.

2003: Sound! Euphonium

Anime, as a medium, is most well-known for its more exaggerated aspects. Exaggerated action in titles like High School DxD, Attack on Titan and Sword Art Online; exaggerated comedy in shows like To Love-Ru, Squid Girl and Monster Musume; exaggerated horror in shows like Hell Girl and… uh… some others (horror is one angle I’m not massively familiar with as yet). Even pornographic hentai anime tends to be exaggerated, with participants screaming in pleasure (and usually narrating the action just in case it wasn’t already abundantly clear what was going on) and gentlemen ejaculating with the force of Niagara Falls several times in the space of five minutes without any need for recuperation in between.

Uh, what was my point again? Oh, right. Anime is most well-known for being exaggerated. But occasionally something comes along that subverts your expectations and proves that not only is anime a particularly good medium for this sort of exaggerated action — the use of animation means that you can depict things that are physically impossible and/or impractical to show with traditional live-action special effects, as I discussed some time ago — but it’s also a really solid medium for down-to-earth, human, heartfelt and honest drama.

There are a number of good examples of relatively “low-key” drama anime; the most well-known ones are things like Clannad and AnoHana, which are both notorious for being particularly emotional, particularly towards their conclusions. More recently, I’ve been very much enjoying a curiously named show that was fairly popular last season: Sound! Euphonium, also known as Hibike! Euphonium or simply anime-eupho depending on who you’re talking to on which platform.

Sound! Euphonium is a show, like most anime, about high school kids. (There’s a very good reason for the perpetual use of school as a setting for anime, but that’s a subject for another day.) As the peculiar title suggests, it’s also a show about music. But this isn’t an exaggerated Love Live! kind of affair, where the kids involved have unrealistic goals that they manage to magically attain without any real explanation (not that there’s anything wrong with that; I adore Love Live!) — Sound! Euphonium focuses on the rather mundane experiences of a school concert band.

Sound! Euphonium centres largely on Kumiko Oumae, a euphonium-playing girl just starting her high school career shortly after her middle-school concert band just missed out on attending a national competition. Kumiko is wracked with guilt over her last words to her former bandmate Reina Kousaka, who was utterly convinced that their band deserved to go the distance — Kumiko disagreed and incredulously asked Reina if she truly believed that they would have ever made it to Nationals. Reina, understandably, was upset at this line of questioning, and the two parted on bad terms.

Kumiko is surprised to discover that Reina is also attending the high school she chose; she’s surprised because Reina has a great deal of talent on her instrument — the trumpet — and the ambition to compete at a national level. Meanwhile, the school they are both attending has a concert band that, upon their arrival, is best described as somewhat mediocre; Reina had her pick of the prestigious schools in the area, many of which have much better concert bands, but she chose the same one as Kumiko for some reason. It later transpires that the reasons for her decision were something to do with the teacher who takes over coordination of the concert band — and who encourages the students within to push themselves as hard as they can through some harsh but fair methods — and perhaps even something to do with her feelings for Kumiko herself.

What I particularly like about Sound! Euphonium is the fact that it’s one of the most realistic depictions of high school music I’ve ever seen. It takes great care to show characters using their instruments correctly and realistically — and not just while they’re playing them; incidental footage during scenes shows characters cleaning their instruments and performing proper maintenance, too. Having lived the concert band life at school — including some competitions and tours, though nothing at a nationally recognised level — I find Sound! Euphonium’s depiction of this aspect of high school life enormously compelling and pleasantly nostalgic.

One thing it captures particularly well is the inherent romanticism and intimacy I’ve always found in making music as an ensemble. During my hormonal teenage years, the majority of people I found myself attracted to were somehow connected to me through the arts in one way or another — primarily through music. While my feelings were usually unrequited, that never really mattered too much; the thrill of sitting next (or near) to someone I liked and making music with them was usually more than enough. The feeling of “butterflies in the stomach” I’d get on the evening of a concert performance as I shared my nervousness with my friends and the object(s) of my affections was something I found intoxicating and exciting; while it was never the primary reason I enjoyed making music — that was always the simple joy of… well, making music — it was a happy perk.

Sound! Euphonium captures this feeling particularly well in its later episodes. An extremely intimate moment between Kumiko and Reina in one episode in particular makes for one of the most honest, heartfelt scenes I’ve seen in any story for quite some time — and after this scene has taken their relationship to a new level (no, they don’t get it on or anything like that, before your filthy mind starts running away with you, pervert) the chemistry and electricity between these two characters is palpable: every glance between them becomes wistful and lingering; every touch becomes sensual and exciting; every unspoken understanding between them clearly deepens their connection without a single word being said. I haven’t yet seen the entire run so I don’t know how — or if — their relationship resolves itself or pans out, but at the stage I’m currently at, it’s enormously exciting and compelling to see.

Sound! Euphonium is well worth a watch, then, particularly if you’re a fan of somewhat more understated drama. Kumiko is a fascinating character, clearly struggling somewhat with a degree of social anxiety and depression — which, as you may well expect, makes her enormously relatable for me — and her relationships and interactions with her friends and bandmates make for compelling drama. It’s a very honest, heartfelt show, and a marked contrast to the more exaggerated end of the anime spectrum — and for that reason, I have a feeling it will stay with me long after I’ve seen the final credits roll.

1869: Back at the Chalkface

I’m doing something tomorrow that I’ve sworn a number of times I’d never do: I’m going back into a Music classroom in a school.

Things are a little different this time around, though. For starters, I’m not there as a regular teacher; I’m instead doing some work (my first, in fact) for the local music service covering an illness absence. It’s also only for a couple of hours, so even if it ends up being an absolutely hellish experience (which I sincerely hope it won’t!) then it won’t be long before I can escape.

But let’s be positive. I’m actually quite curious to see how this school is doing things, because it’s the first time I’ve come across a school giving instrumental lessons to a whole class at once — in this case, year 3 and 4 children playing clarinet. My past experience in the Music classroom has been limited to schools with a budget of about £5 a year for the arts, and an equipment cupboard full of little more than horrible ’90s keyboards, broken percussion instruments and perhaps a couple of recorders if you’re lucky. 30 kids having the opportunity to learn a “proper” (for want of a better word) instrument like the clarinet is a new one on me, and I’m all for it.

Music was one of my defining “things” growing up. I started learning the piano from an early age and did pretty well. I got through exams without too much difficulty, often performed in public, participated in local music festivals (including the unusual experiences of piano duets and trios, which I kind of miss the bizarreness of) and eventually started teaching before I left for university. I picked up the clarinet and the saxophone while I was at secondary school, and these opened the door to more social music-making occasions such as the school orchestra and bands, and the county concert band (which, although fun, was one of my first real experiences with social anxiety, particularly when I overheard someone I thought was my friend taking the piss out of me behind my back). It was often hard work, but it was enjoyable, and I made a lot of good friends at university through music, too.

It was something that, as I was growing up, you had to make a specific effort to do, though. Music to me was “special” — something a bit outside of the norm — and I liked it for that. I liked that it gave me a skill that a lot of other people around me didn’t have. I liked being able to play a piece on the piano and people who normally wouldn’t give me the time of day would suddenly (and, usually, temporarily) think I was cool and talented. I find myself wondering whether I’d feel the same way if I’d “had” to study my instruments, rather than wanting to.

This is why I’m intrigued to see this whole-class approach to instrumental teaching. I’m not convinced it’s going to be ideal, since an instrument like the clarinet in particular isn’t suited to everyone. It’s an opportunity for these kids to make music together, though, and using an instrument that’s eminently more relatable than the usual “school music” mainstays of tambourines, tambours and guiros. And a bit more practical than getting everyone playing the piano — although I do know of some schools that take similar approaches with keyboard tuition.

Anyway. That’s my day tomorrow; hopefully it will lead on to new and exciting things.

1171: Easy Listening, Part 2

As promised, I’m continuing yesterday’s post with another game music fest to introduce you to the joys of some soundtracks you might not be familiar with.

Today, it’s Cavia/Square Enix’s strange, wonderful and rather depressing action-JRPG Nier.

Nier

Nier wasn’t particularly well-received by critics upon its release due to a variety of factors. Having played it (and adored it, I might add), I can see why it was criticised, but equally I feel it was treated a little too harshly. Not only was it doing some fascinating things with the way it told its story and what its story was about — I’ll leave the spoilers out of the discussion for now — but it was also doing some really interesting things with its gameplay, too. What initially appeared to be a relatively conventional third-person character action game/RPG subsequently revealed itself to have elements of visual novels, text adventures, farming sims, 2D platform games, isometric-perspective dungeon crawlers, bullet hell shooters and numerous other genres. It really was a massively interesting game in almost every way.

And then there was its soundtrack, which even if you don’t like the game is indisputably amazing. Let’s look at some standout tracks.

This track, known as Hills of Radiant Wind, is one of the tracks you’ll hear most frequently in the game, since it typically accompanies your jaunts across the countryside surrounding the small settlement where the title character Nier and his daughter Yonah live. This track is hugely memorable both for having a catchy melody and capturing the atmosphere of the game world beautifully. The pounding drums at the bottom of the mix give a sense of adventure and driving forwards, while the vocal line atop the relatively simple accompaniment gives a suitable air of melancholy to the experience. Nier is not a happy game, and this track, while one of the more “upbeat” ones from the soundtrack, reflects that nicely.

This song, simply called Grandma, is beautiful, and is, to me, probably the most representative piece of music that illustrates what the Nier experience is all about. A simple accompaniment accompanied by a mournful voice provides a massively atmospheric backdrop to some of the most emotional story moments in the game.

And then we move on to a few tracks that use the “leitmotiv” technique I’m so fond of, where a number of different pieces make use of similar melodic or harmonic sequences to reflect various things happening to different characters and/or places.

Let’s start with Emil, who, without spoiling anything, gets fairly consistently screwed over throughout the course of the whole game, through no fault of his own. Poor kid.

Anyway, here’s Emil’s “Sacrifice” theme, which accompanies some heartbreaking, sad moments:

And by contrast, here’s his “Karma” theme, which comes shortly after a heartbreaking, sad moment when you’re venting some aggression on the perpetrators:

The addition of the pounding drums and the urgent piano line in this one always gives me shivers, particularly when I remember how it was used in context.

Then we have Popola and Devola, two characters who are extremely important to the overall narrative in ways I won’t spoil right now. When we encounter them, we hear various versions of the “Song of the Ancients” theme, beginning with this acoustic guitar-centric version:

…and moving on to this… I’m not sure how to describe this, really. Plinky-plonky version?

Well, if you’re going to do two different versions based on the two characters who sing it, you might as well do a third version where they sing it together, mightn’t you? Yes, obviously. This, along with Devola’s theme above, are some of the only examples of diegetic music in the game — the rest is there to evoke a mood rather than actually be “present” in the world.

And, hell, if you’re going to do that, you may as well go the whole hog and have a battle theme based on their (by now) iconic song, right? Of course.

The latter one, like Emil’s “Karma” theme, still gives me shivers because I can remember it in context. Gobsmacking.

Then we come to Kainé, possibly one of the most fascinating characters in any game ever for a whole host of reasons, many of which aren’t made entirely explicit in the game. Kainé has two main versions of her theme: a slow one, which goes like this…

…and a fast one, which goes like this.

Those who know their Nier lore will be familiar with the fact that Kainé is intersex. If you weren’t familiar with your Nier lore, now you know too — don’t worry, this isn’t technically a spoiler in terms of the game’s overall plot, and in fact knowing it beforehand brings a whole host of hidden meanings to a bunch of sequences in the game to the fore. I like to think that the markedly different character of these two pieces reflects Kainé’s “masculine” and “feminine” sides, because she is most definitely in possession of both. She is, it’s fair to say, a very angry person — and with good reason — but not afraid to express her feminine side in some rather… flamboyant ways.

One of the most interesting things about the vocal-heavy tracks in Nier are that they don’t use a language from this world. Instead, vocalist Emi Evans was encouraged to make up words in a “futuristic language” — Nier is set in the far, far future — and used elements of Scottish Gaelic, Portuguese, Spanish, Italian, French, English and Japanese to create something with a very distinctive sound, but which doesn’t “mean” anything in and of itself. Instead, the vocal sounds are simply intended, for the most part, to evoke the overall feeling of sadness that pervades the whole game without distracting the player with recognisable words.

So that’s Nier. Easily one of my favourite game soundtracks of all time, and a score which adds a huge amount of emotion to what is already a game rammed to the rafters with heartbreak.

1170: Easy Listening, Part 1

I am, as you probably know, a big fan of video game soundtracks. They’ve come on a very long way since the bleep-bleep-bloop of yore, and in many cases these days are eminently worth listening to in their own right.

Over the next few posts I’d like to take a mildly self-indulgent tour around some of my favourite tracks from some of my favourite soundtrack albums. YouTube-heavy post ahead… you have been warned.

Trauma Team

Let’s start with something that’s fresh in my memory. The Trauma Center series as a whole has pretty consistently great soundtracks, largely composed by Atlus mainstays Shoji Meguro and Atsushi Kitajoh. Both of them have a very distinctive (and quite similar) sound to their compositions, and this is very much in evidence throughout the Trauma Team soundtrack.

What’s most striking about the Trauma Team soundtrack, though, is how well the various pieces of music reflect the different characters. For example, for the cool “ice maiden” that is forensic investigator Dr Naomi Kimishima, we have this wonderfully chilled-out number called, appropriately enough, Cool Beauty:

Dr Naomi’s segments, as it happens, have some of the best music in the game. For the uninitiated (or those of you who haven’t read my enthusing at length about this wonderful game), Dr Naomi’s levels are adventure game-style puzzles in which you must unravel the mystery of what happened to one or more corpses using various forensic investigation techniques. As you progress through them, the truth gradually gets closer and closer until finally everything clicks into place and you understand exactly what happened to the poor person lying on the slab in your examination room.

That gradual uncovering of the truth is something beautifully captured by this piece, imaginatively titled Uncover the Truth, which starts out simple and gradually builds up in complexity as it progresses through. Accompanying this piece on screen is Dr Naomi piecing together all the case’s various pieces — with a little help from you, of course — and coming to a firm conclusion about what happened. It’s pretty great — and surprisingly powerful in context:

Dr Naomi is just one of six different doctors who star in Trauma Team, however, and each of them has their own distinctive “sound” throughout. For example, nameless surgeon “CR-S01″‘s pieces are all rather electronic-rock in nature and wouldn’t sound out of place in a Shin Megami Tensei game — unsurprising, considering the composers:

Meanwhile, Dr Hank Freebird’s pieces focus a lot more on gradually-building tension, such as this piece, which in-game builds itself up as your “combo” of moves made without mistakes (or taking a break) grows:

Dr Cunningham the diagnostician, meanwhile, is a much more laid-back sort of dude for the most part:

Except when things get serious, of course.

Trauma Team’s story is split into two distinct segments. The first half sees the six doctors working largely independently from one another, following their own parallel storylines that do nonetheless make a coherent narrative if played in the correct order. However, the really interesting stuff starts happening in the second half, which is completely linear, and follows the entire team’s attempts to battle against a disease known as the Rosalia virus.

This part of the game makes use of one of my favourite compositional techniques for soundtracks, which is to take one theme and gradually evolve and adapt it over the course of the story. Rosalia’s theme goes through a number of changes throughout the second half of Trauma Team, culminating in something pretty spectacular.

Here we have Spread of Rosalia, a piece that plays during the endoscopy sequences of the game while battling against the Rosalia virus. The recognisable chord sequence and strings backing of the Rosalia theme is present and correct here, with a nervous, tense, slow-moving melody overlaid over the top of it. Treating Rosalia is something that requires care, precision and nerves of steel; this piece of music reflects that rather nicely.

Encounter Rosalia during Maria’s First Response missions, meanwhile, and you get treated to this wonderfully intense number that really gets the pulse pounding. Just the thing you need while you’re running back and forth between five different patients trying not to let any of them die, huh?

This piece of music, meanwhile, plays during Dr Hank Freebird’s orthopaedic surgery missions where he comes across Rosalia. Hank’s missions aren’t as time-sensitive as many of the other operations throughout Trauma Team, but the high level of accuracy required in them makes them some of the most tense, most physically-exhausting levels you’ll be challenged with:

This track, on the other hand, plays while discussing Rosalia and how best to treat it. It’s less intense than the other Rosalia pieces, but has a certain air of desperation about it, while at the same time offering a sense of hope… before exploding in intensity towards the end.

Finally, spoilers I guess, our final showdown with Rosalia comes pre-packed with this rockin’ piece of music — beautifully fitting for an intense surgical battle against a thoroughly unpleasant illness. Will our heroes make it through…? Well, that’s up to you, really…

More tomorrow.

#oneaday Day 758: Keep Moving!

Thus far the return to a regular fitness routine has been going pretty well. I’ve shaken off all vague feelings of illness, so I can’t use that as an excuse any more, and I have a variety of activities that I’m able to do so I don’t get bored. Also, as stupid as it sounds, associating the act of running with one of my favourite characters from Katawa Shoujo — that’s Emi, for anyone not tuning out when I mention that game now — gives me a positive attitude towards it, even if I suck in comparison to people who are fitter and slimmer than me.

Fitness is tricky business, though, as anyone who has tried to get themselves into a decent routine and struggled will attest. Just arbitrarily deciding that you are going to “get fit” isn’t enough for most people, in my experience. You need things to aim for and the means through which to motivate yourself.

I thought what I’d do today is share what I’m doing in the hope that it might rub off on some of you. Feel free to pinch any of my ideas if you’re struggling with the whole “motivation” thing.

First up, I have a selection of things to do — I don’t do the same thing all the time. If you’re a gym member, it’s easy to think that you should be using the gym as much as possible, and when you’re there, it’s also very easy to get stuck in a rut doing the same routine over and over and over again. And sure, sticking to a routine can allow you to work on the parts of the body that you’d really like to focus on, but good grief it gets boring after a while.

So mix it up. When you’re at the gym, try some different machines. If you do weight training, use the machines sometimes and the free weights at others. Try using barbells if you normally use dumbbells. Challenge some different cardiovascular machines. Bump up the difficulty. Set yourself more lofty targets — ten minutes, twenty minutes, thirty minutes. Challenge yourself to meet those targets without stopping for a rest, or with only a certain number of rests, or completing a certain amount of distance in that time period.

But don’t necessarily stick to the gym. Go outside and do something like cycling or running. While you may feel horrendously self-conscious attempting to perambulate your wheezing carcass at a faster speed than your normal zombie-like shamble in an environment that contains other people, there are plenty of ways to tune out the outside world. Loud music, for example — and we’ll come back to that point in a minute. The clothing you wear makes a difference, too — hide your face under a hoodie or a hat and you’ll feel much less self-conscious, plus you get the added bonus of being able to pretend you’re Ezio Auditore running away from the city guards. That and keeping the windchill off your ears, too. Also bear in mind that there’s a strong possibility that anyone who sees you running — especially in inclement weather conditions — will be impressed at your dedication to bettering yourself. (This rule is also known as the “Fat People Shouldn’t Be Ashamed To Be Seen At The Gym Rule”.)

On the subject of music, pick something that inspires you. No-one else is going to hear it (unless you have crap headphones that leak sound everywhere, and even then only if you’re exercising around other people and playing your music at full volume) so it can be absolutely anything you want, even the most shameful of crap in your iTunes library. In fact, in the age of Spotify, you can feel free to try out different genres of music to see what gets your pumped up. You may find that 80s cheese does the trick, or thumping dance beats, or — God forbid — dubstep.

Podcasts are a good thing to insert into your earholes while you’re exercising too, not because they’re inherently energetic in themselves, but because they provide the illusion of time passing more quickly. By concentrating on the sound of peoples’ voices and what they are saying, you’ll find you naturally stop clockwatching, simply letting your body run on automatic while you listen to, say, the Minotti brothers yelling at each other on the Exploding Barrel Podcast, or the Squadron of Shame waxing lyrical about chin-strokey gaming topics.

My personal recommendation for listening material is to check out some soundtracks, both movies and games. Action movie soundtracks and games that are full of spectacle typically provide excellent soundtracks to work out to — particular favourites of mine include the soundtracks to Speed, the Matrix series, Metal Gear Solid, Split/Second, Shadow of the Colossus (particularly awesome when lifting weights), the bizarrely cheerful soundtrack to the iPhone version of DoDonPachi Resurrection and Space Channel 5. If you’re a JRPG fan, battle themes are particularly awesome to work out to. If you can create a crescendo of intensity culminating in the most epic final boss themes you can find, so much the better. There’s no better feeling than finishing that last set of reps as the choir starts belting out One Winged Angel.

Finally, and I think this is probably the most powerful motivational factor in my case: track your progress. It’s very easy to get stuck in a rut, but to see measurable results provides powerful inspiration to push yourself harder and go a little further. Exactly how you do this is up to you, but as a gamer and social media junkie I use Runkeeper to track cardiovascular workouts (including mapping my runs when I go outside) and the very excellent Fitocracy social game/network to log complete workouts. I also share my completed workouts on Facebook and Twitter. While some may not like the “spam”, it’s easy enough to ignore, and the few people who do congratulate me on a job well done after the fact makes it worthwhile.

On that note, if you can build up a support network for yourself — be it people you regularly work out with or online friends who cheer you on from afar — you’ll find yourself motivated to succeed, particularly if they’re the sort of friends who would rib you mercilessly if you give up. If you’re going through a programme like the Couch to 5K thing I shared with you all the other day, then work with a friend or team to get through it together.

Above all, though, have fun with it. It may feel like work at times because it is — it’s something you need to make yourself do, and made of activities that your body often doesn’t feel like doing if you tend to live a fairly sedentary lifestyle. But unlike going to actual work, you’re free to tackle it and make it fun in whatever manner you please rather than sitting in a cubicle allowing your soul to be sucked out through your ergonomically-designed management keyboard.

I hope that’s made some of you think a bit. C’mon, if I can get off my arse and get active, I’m pretty sure that you (yes, you, with the beard/glasses/pointy nose/weird hair/lovely hair/nice tits/flatulence/worryingly prominent erection/kind face/greasy trout in your hand/jar of olives clutched to your breast/smelly armpits [delete as applicable]) can do it too.

#oneaday, Day 263: Original Sound Track

Music provides an emotional connection to memories. It can trigger memories, feelings and responses. Many people associate certain pieces of music with particular times in their lives. And, depending on your interests, these pieces of music can be from a variety of sources. They could be movie soundtracks. Pieces of music you’ve played yourself. The music that was playing when something awesome or terrible happened.

Or they might be video game soundtracks. Game soundtracks are quite unique in a way in that their technology has evolved very quickly. So rather than evolving over the course of hundreds of years like classical music, they evolved very distinct identities with each new generation of hardware, roughly a decade at a time. Today, we’re in a peculiar situation where we have game soundtracks that are, at times, indistinguishable from movie soundtracks. But at the same time, we also are getting game soundtracks that deliberately hearken back to the distinctive sounds of the past. Which is confusing. But awesome.

So I thought I’d share a few pieces of music that I’ve enjoyed over the years. And, where applicable, if I can remember (and if they’re not too embarrassing) the memory that’s attached to them.

The Atari ST had a deeply, deeply terrible soundchip, especially when compared to its technically superior rival, the Commodore Amiga. That didn’t stop a variety of composers such as Alistair Brimble trying their best to compose catchy tunes. I don’t have a particular memory associated with this piece of music (besides playing Fantasy World Dizzy, that is) but this piece of music was oddly memorable. I’m not sure why, because it’s not a spectacularly good piece of music. But it had that “hook”.

Starfox/Starwing had a very distinctive soundtrack. The synth sounds used throughout coupled with the reasonably-convincing electric guitar sounds were actually far better than most of the stuff that the N64’s execrable sound chip belched out. This piece of music in particular stuck with me. I remember playing Starfox/wing with headphones on in the lounge and getting told to be quiet because I was finding it all a bit exciting and going “Whooa!” a lot. C’mon. The first time you do that corkscrew descent to the surface of Venom? That was awesome.

I’m not afraid to admit I cried like a girl when (OMG SPOILER) Aeris/th died. I bought Final Fantasy VII specifically because my brother had said it was the first time a lot of people had felt genuine emotion from a video game. I wasn’t disappointed. Aeris/th’s death may be something of a cliché now. But at the time, what happened to her was shocking.

Silent Hill 2 is a game that’s stuck with me for many years. Its powerful imagery, heartbreaking story and excellent theme song are partly to blame for this. The fact that I was so captivated by the story that I played through about 95% of it in one night is probably more to blame for this. I associate this piece of music with staying up that night, and also feel an emotional connection to it which I’m buggered if I can actually describe.

Not a game soundtrack, but Speed’s score became my job interview soundtrack for a while. It was good driving music, so I’d listen to it on the way there and, assuming it hadn’t all gone horribly wrong, on the way back too. Added a bit of drama to the commute if nothing else.

You might have forgotten about the 2204355 Dancing Chicken Man by now, but I certainly haven’t. Why? Because the music on that video is now inextricably tied to my last weeks in Southampton. I was sitting up late one night contemplating the futility of existence (as you do) when SnakeLinkSonic posted a tweet which simply read “I CAN’T STOP WATCHING” and included a link to the original Flash animation that started all this nonsense off. The animation and the music made me laugh so much at I time when I was feeling so utterly terrible that I can’t help but have it stuck in my mind. It reminds me of the days counting down until I’d have to leave and make a fresh start… a fresh start which I’m not sure has quite happened yet.

Basically, if there’s ever a game featuring me, and I have to face a boss at the end of Disc 1, I want this music to be playing.

Again, not a specific memory attached to this one, but the Split/Second score is awesome and oddly inspirational. As such, I’ve adopted it as my official Going For A Run soundtrack. And it really works.

Last of all, this piece also doesn’t have a specific memory attached to it (because I’m creating said memory right now), but it was introduced to me while I was writing this. (Thanks, Donna!) It’s a pair of Dulcimers, an instrument I knew of but don’t think I’d ever seen before. This piece is gorgeous; the sound of the instruments is full, resonant and has a sense of “purity” about it. I like it very much.

So there’s some music for you. Hmm. That post took rather longer to put together than I thought it would. Oh well! Good night. Tune in tomorrow for the next episode in the thrilling series of events that has been taking place at the top of each post. Have I really just killed myself off?

#oneaday, Day 230: In Da Club

Last night I went out with a bunch of friends. It was my last chance to see a lot of them as I’m leaving Southampton at the start of next week. A great deal of alcohol was imbibed, hugs were had, tears were shed.

And realisations were reached.

They say that you’ve reached adulthood when you don’t enjoy clubbing any more. Actually, they don’t. I just made that up. But it’s as good a measure as anything. I used to enjoy clubbing at university. At least I think I did. We used to go to a local shithole called “Kaos” every Monday night from the university Theatre Group, imbibe a great deal of cheap alcohol and dance until the early hours. And I have plenty of fond memories of those occasions. Again, at least I think I did. They’re a bit hazy.

So last night we went to a couple of places. First up was the Orange Rooms, which is a reasonable-ish place full of girls in dresses that barely qualify as dresses, comfortable-ish chairs and overpriced drinks. It was cool to see everyone but the conversation was gradually muted by the fact that the music got so loud that the bass was shaking books off the shelves on the walls. And frequently onto our heads.

I don’t know if I’m going deaf, haven’t attuned my hearing properly or am just ill-versed in the fine art of conversation during loud noises. But other people seem well-equipped to continue a conversation under these circumstances. I find myself having to say “Huh?” and “What?” a lot, or feigning that I’ve actually heard them when as a matter of fact I haven’t.

This becomes doubly troublesome when it becomes clear that the other participant in the exchange has asked a question. I have two choices at this point—yes or no. No-one ever asks a question requiring a complicated answer under these circumstances, which is a small mercy, I guess. So I have to work out whether the question which has been asked is one which requires a yes or no answer, and then pick one of the two. I have a 50/50 chance of my answer making sense. Sometimes it doesn’t. Then I just shrug and let the pitiful attempt at conversation fade.

Late in the evening, a few people disappeared and the rest of us were dragged to a nearby club called “Junk”. Aptly named. At “Junk” I had my first experience of a style of music a bunch of people I know have been banging on about for ages, which is, I believe, dubstep. I didn’t really know what dubstep was prior to tonight, but I had a feeling I probably wasn’t going to appreciate its finer artistic merits.

As it happened, that was a correct assumption. Dubstep, or at least the Junk interpretation of it, appeared to be playing songs as they originally sounded, only with a bassline that goes WUB WUB WUB WUB WUB WUB WUB WUB over the top of it, and an occasional klaxon solo. So the whole thing ends up sounding something like TURN AROUND BRIIIIGHT EYES EVERY NOW AND THEN I FALL A PAAAAAAWUB WUB WUB WUB WUB WUB WUB WUB WUB HOOOOOOOOONK HOOOOOOOOOOONK WUB WUB WUB WUB WUB TOTAL ECLIPSE OF THE HEART

Sorry guys. I know you dig it and all. But I really don’t get it. Like, even a little bit. It hurt my brain. The thumping beats are fine for dancing, but I couldn’t see myself just sitting listening to it.

Dancing is weird, too, isn’t it? People wilfully gathering together in order to gyrate suggestively and/or spastically presumably in the hope of attracting someone to have some form of sexual congress with. Well, okay, no. Not everyone is there to get laid. But the ones who are make themselves very obvious. I’d hate to be an attractive girl. The sight of a bunch of men gradually gathering around you making overtly sexual motions is probably enormously intimidating. And that, besides the fact I’d think I’d look like a dick, is why I don’t do that. It is also why I don’t go to clubs to look for a potential mate. Or indeed at all.

So there you have it. At the age of 29, I am officially Over Clubbing. (Note: this is different from “overclubbing”, which generally leads to a significantly larger hangover than I had today) I like going out for a drink at a decent bar. I like having a laugh with my friends. I even like going to smaller clubs that play decent music. The Dungeon here in Southampton is a great example, largely because it attracts nerds, geeks, goths and other outcasts of “mainstream” culture. But spending time in what appears to be a darkened warehouse that plays music that doesn’t make sense and getting surrounded by perverts in Ben Sherman shirts? Sounds like a dream come true to some, I’m sure. But I think you can count me out!

#oneaday, Day 146: Overly Ambitious Interactive Post

This post is interactive. And long. As such, I am using a More tag for the first time ever. To take part in all the fun, read the full post. It’s about Persona 4‘s music, and how I think it can be made relevant to pretty much any situation you might find yourself in in everyday life. I commented on this on Twitter the other day. I thought it might be fun to prove it. Turns out it is fun. And rather time-consuming to prepare. But here it is anyway.

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