Here's Paul Weller, and where have I been?

I'm not a young man anymore, in fact, only a couple of years younger than Mr. Weller. So why was I not aware of his talent and body of work until about a year ago? There's no legitimate excuse. The Jam and Style Council—nope, because merely recognizing a band's name doesn't count.
An article in Uncut magazine introduced me to his solo work, and I have since picked up about five discs. All of them are good, and a couple are really good. Weller seems to be able to shake good tunes out of his sleeve, and his production is remarkably interesting—a variety of styles and instrumentations. And I get a lot of pleasure out of his singing.

So what? I can feel really good about new discoveries; I can flatter myself by genuinely liking music of such artistry. But my appreciation is also a kind of dying. I am on the downward slope of a trajectory, and Paul Weller's music won't save me. Instead, it is among the great music that accompanies me along a wandering hike to wherever the path ends. If you agree with me about my choices, fine. I'm not alone while it lasts?

Over time

Musicians and performers of popular music are acutely aware how short the window of time can be for their careers. Popular music is generally a youth music. Yet some artists are able to build remarkable bodies of work over time.
I find myself continually surprised by the longevity of artists to whom I was first attracted almost 40 years ago. Their music may no longer be youthful, naturally. And despite their use of  forms and styles rooted in their youth, their expressions have changed, and they have remained relevant. In fact, one of the chief enjoyments of their music is how they have authentically blended marks of their youth with perspectives of time.
Among others, Bruce Cockburn, Peter Frampton, John Mellencamp, and Richard Thompson are producing work that is as strong or stronger than output from any time during their long careers. Frampton is perhaps the most interesting example. I remember first-hand how a popular mania pushed him too close to the sun with Frampton Comes Alive. At the time he even eclipsed McCartney's Wings over America live record. No fault of Frampton's that Comes Alive was so eminently likable. Following his blockbuster, expectations were unrealistic, and he became something of a teen idol, which wasn't who he was. His career ebbed for a while, but he recovered nicely, and the listener can gain much pleasure from his more recent output.

Bobby Hutcherson 1941-2016

My favorite vibraphonist, Bobby Hutcherson, died August 15, 2016. He enjoyed a long and critically-acclaimed career. His discography spans six decades, as both leader and sideman; he could play inside and outside. My favorite setting was in a group with a great piano player, such as McCoy Tyner or Chick Corea. His leader recordings are also a good place to hear the fine saxophonist, Harold Land.
Hutcherson's Total Eclipse (1968 Blue Note) is a desert-island recording for me. The title track and "Same Shame" are treasured tracks among the set's five tunes. Saxophonist Harold Land soars, and drummer Joe Chambers sets the perfect foundation throughout.

Nada Surf

I am often asked by younger people about the kinds of newer music I am listening to. This can be a miserable fail, because either I am about 10 years behind the times or I am discovering anew older music. For example, my appreciation of Radiohead came much later than it should have, and my appreciation of John Mellencamp, and especially his more recent output, has not happened until just recently. Both of these shortcomings can apply to a newfound pleasure in Nada Surf. It wasn't until earlier this summer when I was at a conference at Boston University and they were playing in a club down the block that I even knew of this band. Nada Surf was formed in 1992 and has released about 10 CDs.
My first real exposure to Nada Surf was to download "Blonde on Blonde," an irresistibly sweet ode to the Dylan album. I have been recommending this song to lots of people. Then I picked up a used copy of Let Go (2002), which is a perfect CD—tight song structures, having good variety and plenty of musical interest. Not a clinker or annoying mannerism to be found. I have also procured The Weight Is a Gift (2005) and really enjoy it.

P.S. The other newer band I have been playing is My Morning Jacket. Yeah, I know.