So one of the local radio stations was playing this beautiful, rambling song with a chorus that grabbed me:

“But I believe I can change the world

Just give me time”

It turns out it was “Sweaters” by Beth Waters. I’m eager for a second listen.

Still with me? Ok, so let’s get to the three discs in my car’s deck, right now. I’ve got Crowded House’s Woodface, The Cure’s Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me, and 90125 by Yes.

They’re all discs I’ve “rediscovered”, to my delight.

90125 demonstrates that Yes, even later in their career, were among the best musicians around. Staccato synth, Jon Anderson’s strained vocals, and harmonies make this one of my favorite “80’s” albums.

Even more exciting, though, was my rediscovery of The Cure. Or, should I say, my realization about why I like this album. The lyrics, written by Robert Smith (who was kicked out of Souixsie and the Banshees repeatedly for his inability to kick the heroin horse) are at once grotesque, violent, angry, gentle and vulnerable. I can’t say I’m a fan. But the music, with exotic rhythms, overdriven guitar that’s accurate without being precise, pounding bass, and earnest harmonies are reminiscent of something. I should be careful how I say this…the feel of the music is reflective of my own, uh, libidinous thoughts, even though the lyrics are not. (At this point, my friends are either running to listen to the album again, or shattering the disc and cursing themselves for reading Small.to.)

The greatest “refind”, though, is Woodface. (Shout out to sarcasmo, the other big fan of Crowded House who regularly looks at this site.) I’ve always liked CH, but thought of them as a Beatlesque, occasionally cutepop band. Anyone remember the first time they experienced great art? I do. I remember seeing Vincent Van Gogh’s Starry Night Over the Rhone and feeling like I needed to close my eyes to keep my head from exploding. My feeling, listening to this album, wasn’t that strong. But I was amazed, and finally saw the genius of the album, as Weather With You faded into Whispers and Moans and Four Seasons in One Day.

I was spouting off on the fantastic album, while running with Jill and Queen Quon that night. Jill responded with “Oh, it’s like Starry Starry Night, the Don MacLean song about Vincent Van Gogh.” Weird coincidence?

I just guess I didn’t realize how sophisticated each song was, and how they were thematically tied to one another. I’ll be glad to “spoil” it for any of you who chooses to e-mail me (by claiming to now understand them). But do yourself a favor and buy this album, and listen to it over and over and over.