Editorial: Deerhunter – Halcyon Digest (Since I Did Not Kill Bradford Cox)

Bradford Cox

Editor’s Note: The original, 1,000-word editorial was eaten by the WordPress monster. This is not an exact reproduction of that editorial – but it is as close as I could replicate it some 12 hours later.

Editorial: Deerhunter – Halcyon Digest (Since I Did Not Kill Bradford Cox)
10.17.10
by: Chuck Norton

This is not an album review based on technical details or merits. This is more of an editorial centered around the emotional reaction to Deerhunter’s latest album, Halcyon Digest. The album has been out for more than a month, so if you are reading this, you’ve probably already read the reviews and, most likely, you own the album.

I’ve admired the work of Deerhunter frontman Bradford Cox since first seeing the band perform early last decade (I can’t recall if I saw them in 2002 or 2003). Although I haven’t seen the band – or one of Cox’s other side projects – since, I’m proud of the quality and success of his work.

I know it may seem odd to be proud of an artist with whom you have no direct connection, but the feeling is not dissimilar to the feelings a sports fan has for their hometown team. You want them to succeed because they come from the same place as you and are representing that common place to others across the country.

For me – someone who has zero musical talent and who is barely holding on as a semi-retired DJ and part-time music scribe – Cox is the musician that I wish I could have been. Critically acclaimed. Respected by his peers. Commercially successful enough to maintain viability. Prolific enough to release album after album. Able to work in relative anonymity. How is that not the perfect rock ‘n roll bio?

As for the album itself, Halcyon Digest is the third Deerhunter album I own. And it is probably my favorite. While almost everyone I have communicated with on the album claims “Helicopter” as their favorite song, I lean toward “Desire Lines” because of the near-perfect crescendo. I’m also partial to “Coronado” (sax!) and “He Would Have Laughed”. All-in-all, Cox has mastered the balance between pop sensibility and experimental progression with this album.

But my appreciation of the album goes beyond a good album by a good band.

As is the case more often than not, time and circumstance mean that for weeks or months at a time I only have the time or energy to really get into one album. Early in 2010, that was the fantastic Local Natives’ album, Gorilla Manor. Now, in mid-Fall, it’s Halcyon Digest.

For me, it’s getting harder and harder to keep with the changing landscape of music. Dozens of albums come out each month worthy of attention. This is in addition to the singles that dot my in-box every day. My days just don’t allow me the time to dedicate a couple of hours everyday to listen to music without significant interruption. Although you can bet your bottom dollar that I wish I did.

It struck me this past week just how much I’m fallen out of touch with pop-music. When I was at the Atlanta Braves final playoff game last Monday, the walk-up music for Brian McCann was a hip-hop song which had at least half the crowd chanting along. It included some hand movement at one point in the song. I was clueless.

Then, later in the week, Twitter seemed to be blowing up with Waka or Wakka or Wokka Flokka or something of the like. Again, clueless. For all I know, this Wakka Flakka – or whatever – could be the artist behind the song I didn’t know at the ball game. (Wow, that sounded a little too much like Andy Rooney.)

Which leads me back to this Deerhunter album I’ve been listening to almost every night for the past few weeks. For me, it’s nice to be excited about an album and an artist that is both a link to my future and my past. It’s a reminder that musical relevance is relative. I’m happy to not know one-hit-wonders of the 2010′s especially since it means I still know a thing or two about really good music.

And since I didn’t kill Bradford Cox the last time I saw him about a year ago, I hope to have more albums of his to look forward to in the future. Yes, I almost killed one of the most respected artists of this generation last Fall. As he was walking across Boulevard at 1-20, I also most hit him as I tried to turn from Boulevard to I-20 westbound. Yikes. Thankfully for him, me and everyone else, my brakes were working well that afternoon.