Book review: Return from the Stars by Stanislaw Lem

I jump at any Lem I see in the used bookstores.  This was not one I was familiar with, so I took advantage of its availability a couple months ago.

There it sat, on my shelf, ever since this past week.

Reading through it in a few marathon sessions (it's an uncharacteristically light and easy breeze of a read for a Lem novel), I'm mad at myself for waiting so long.

If you know Lem's more serious dramatic works, you will be familiar with the regretful outsider protagonist.  The one that, on top of being completely displaced in a nearly alien world and all of its uncomfortably unfamiliar things and practices, has another world of personal regret and conflict to reconcile with.  Hal Bregg, a near-Superman from the past, must make sense of the doomed space travel mission he has returned to Earth from, but first, he must make peace with a world that "betrizates" itself in order to dull the senses and make people immune from aggressive thoughts and urges.  Robots do everything else.  Cities are built in stacked levels, for which each level has an imaginary sky projected on a huge television screen on the floor of the next level up.  Space travel and research for lifeforms outside of of Earth have now been deemed obsolete and primitive.

This all confronts a man who is physically 30 years old, but technically 140.  He has the guilt of possibly the responsibility of the death of crew members on his conscience.  He has no immediate family.  He is completely isolated and unique (in a now socially awkward way).

Amongst his wanderings back on Earth, Hal is introduced to a shocking new way of life that seems pleasant on the surface, but in actuality, only raises more unrest in a mind that has the remembrance and knowledge that his has.  In typical Lem fashion, you, as the reader, are immediately catapulted into this unfamiliar world, without explanation.  Dialogue is fractured and many things are left open and unexplained.  The feeling of being absolutely lost and engulfed in this magnificent future of mystery and trippy landscapes is imposed immediately on the reader and it's certainly not by accident that there are no shortage of typical Lem-isms — that is, made up words to signify new technology that is commonplace in this future, but that seems completely alien to a contemporary reader.  The numerous ideas and things tossed out at random as ho-hum technologies in the time that this story takes place —the type that would be completely revolutionary if they were to actually materialize— are too many to count.  A short example: optons.  They are essentially an electronic tablet, not that different from a Kindle or an iPad, in which books or other information can be loaded onto for reference later on (Return from the Stars was first published in 1961).

As with all of Lem's works, satirical or serious, this one envelopes the reader in another world entirely.  That this book takes a less "heady" approach (though no less trippy, as the many city scenes from before Hal leaves for Clavestra illustrate), and instead aims for a more emotional landscape is where it wins.  Lem has always been capable of tugging at the deep thinker's heartstrings —Solaris, amidst pages upon pages of nearly incomprehensible technobabble, still somehow manages to be deeply resonating and emotive— but Return is just a master toying with his craft.  That he leaves out no minutiae —I don't think there's a meal that's not accounted for, nor how many words were actually uttered during its discourse— and yet, still manages an emotional finale unmatched in any of the other works of his I've read. . . well, that's pretty impressive.

There's plenty of action, too.  Though, most of it occurs through flashbacks.  Really though, it's the emotional core and how, in the final act, there is not a single mention of any piece of futuristic technology that pushes this one over the top.

In the middle of all this is a world gone mad with betrization.  So much commentary on how people don't truly understand their own impulses and desires before acting on them.  The betrizated society comes into question very early on in the story.  The logistics as to how  real any person walking around actually is if they've been treated to essentially not act like themselves are weighed right up front.  Very loaded.  Typical Lem.

A singular experience and one of his very best works, I'd say.

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Such an inspiring and wonderful work, in fact, that I've been moved to create another podcast containing songs that I feel conjure up moods that this story evokes.  No title for this one, just pure feeling.  Enjoy.

Mix inspired by return from the stars by Austintayeshus on Mixcloud

1)  Brian Eno — 'A Clearing' (1982)
2)  Human League — 'The Path of Least Resistance' (1979)
3)  Red Sparowes — 'A Message of Avarice Rained Down and Carried Us Away to False Dreams of Endless Riches' (2006)
4)  Cocteau Twins — 'Lazy Calm' (1986)
5)  The Durutti Column — 'Falling' (2001)
6)  The Reegs — 'The Nasty Side' (1993)
7)  DJ Shadow — 'Blood on the Motorway' (2002)
8)  Slowdive — 'Changes' (1994)
9)  Sam Prekop — 'November September' (2010)
10)  Eberhard Weber — 'T on a White Horse' (1977)
11)  Kraftwerk — 'Ananas Symphonie' (1975)
12)  Tangerine Dream — 'Invisible Limits' (1976)
13)  Harmonia — 'Almost' (1976)
14)  William Ackerman — 'The Search for the Turtle's Navel' (1977)
15)  Trembling Blue Stars — 'Branches' (2005)
16)  Brian Eno — 'Always Returning' (1983)
17)  Sigur Rós — 'Varðeldur' (2012)
18)  David Sylvian — 'Darkest Dreaming' (1999)

~Austin

What's New?: 6.10.2012

Lots to talk about. Let's go!

Japan — Obscure Alternatives (1978)
 
Japan was still a copycat act at this point.  And although this album bares little resemblance to the greasy funk rock of their debut (released eight months previous to this), they are still pretty far from being anything except followers.  Just have a look at the cover and it's obvious they're still trying to be glam punkers.  Where Adolescent Sex filled up its creative shortcomings with funk indulgences, Obscure Alternatives just flails in all directions.  Slimey faux reggae, stock new wave and even a synth-obsessed glance at where they were headed.  It's too much on one plate, but what's there is at least worth checking out if you're a fan.  I skipped this one because I didn't think it was essential after checking out some previews years ago.  But, I can honestly say now, it's a good album just to consider if you're a fan of the band.  It's a transitional album, so it's a mixed mess, but it does have its moments.  This remastered and expanded edition of the album from 2006 features four live tracks, one of which is a stunning early through of 'In Vogue' that finds Japan as the band they would soon come to be appearing fully formed for the first time.  A good album that bridges the gap between the early, more rockin' outfit and the later, sophisticated and reserved incarnation of the band.

Japan — Quiet Life (1979) 

Simply put: one of the most impressive musical evolutions ever.  In just under two years, they literally went from being borderline embarrassing in their copycat ways to being innovators.  The title track asserts this album's place in history immediately.  It's so ahead of its time that people still lump it in with the hits of the 80's (see what I did there?).  Otherwise, it's all here.  Chilly post-punk?  Check.  Spacey ghost funk?  You know it.  A new wave era remake of a classic?  Present.  I mean, sheesh, this album is good.  And they only got better from here!  This, again, is the remastered and expanded edition from 2006.  The bonus tracks are mostly disappointing as three-quarters of them are simply single mixes of album tracks (two of those being back to back versions of 'All Tomorrow's Parties' —grrrrrr!).  However, the other track is the very Tin Drum-esque b-side, 'A Foreign Place' so all is forgiven.  I seriously can't recommend this album enough.  As a huge David Sylvian fan in general and especially a fan of what came immediately after this album, I really have no excuse for not having this one around previously.

The Feelies — Time for a Witness (1991)

I'm gonna write a song called 'Ode to the Feelies' and it's gonna go like this: "Ooohhh, the Feelies / They kick ass! / Ooohhh, the Feelies / Do please ask / About the Feelies / Because now your task / Is to get the Feelies / In your memory, fast!"  I love them that much.  This album has eluded me for even longer than Crazy Rhythms did.  So, I said to myself, "Self, I've had enough of not having the entire Feelies discography!"  And she responded, "Do whatever, man.  Just make yourself happy."  So, I paid a little more than I probably should have, but you know what?  It's not like there's tons of bands that have released five albums, but have never made a bad song.  But the Feelies can lay claim to this honor.  Time for a Witness, what most must have taken for being the band's last album ever (until this happened), is simultaneously the band's poppiest and their most rockin' affair.  Side two is preferable for me, as it's quite reminiscent of the Good Earth.  But the whole thing is good.  Jangly, weirdly poppy, classic awkwardness and everything.  Check out the jammy 'Find a Way' and then take a step back and realize that it was the Feelies that just did that (and then get blown away).  'Invitation' is pure jangle pop bliss, while their cover of 'Real Cool Time' proves that they could actually rock out the whole time.  The fuckin' Feelies, man.  Kings.

George Harrison — Dark Horse (1974)
 
I guarantee, if nobody knew about George's throat issues at the time, nobody would say anything about the vocals on this album.  It's polished and classy, that's for sure.  And that sums up George's solo career, actually.  There's no absence of sheen on any of these albums, but the songs are all really genuine.  It's unfortunate that this album has now been classified as the album George did when his voice was suffering because it actually has gems.  'So Sad', in fact, should probably be considered amongst his best songs (Beatles or otherwise).  The bitter revision of 'Bye Bye Love' gets by solely on vibe (seriously, look up the history of that thing) while side two features the soft rock hidden gem 'Far East Man' (another one of George's best, actually).  Very nice music.  No shortage of tunes.

George Harrison — Extra Texture (1975)

This one starts off with 'You', which sounds almost like an All Things Must Pass outtake.  And I should say that this is probably my favorite George album, outside of that album.  This one is very slowly paced, but there remains an acoustic strummy base to all the songs and it strikes me as the one album that George made in the 70's where he was actually happy with the results.  'This Guitar Can't Keep From Crying' is a brilliant sequel, while 'World of Stone' is the sort of furrowed brow, deep thinking ballad that I expected from him the whole time.  Really strong stuff, for overproduced soft rock.  And, even without that arguably derogatory tag, it's still pretty good.

George Harrison — 33 and 1/3 (1976)

George ventures even further into studioland on this one.  Like I said earlier, the songs are still good, but whether or not you can notice that depends on how much patience you have for late 70's studio sheen.  For example, if you can understand that if the keyboards in 'Dear One' were scaled back a bit, it would damn near be a masterpiece, then you will get a lot out of this album.  'Learning How to Love You' is another good one in this vein.  Overall, the album sounds pretty good while it's playing, but doesn't leave much of an impression afterwords.

George Harrison — George Harrison (1979)
 
And it's more of the same here, but the songs are just a little more catchy, honestly.  First track 'Love Comes to Everyone' is so earnest, I have a hard time not liking it (please excuse the synthesizer solos, however).  'Here Comes the Moon' (another sequel) is just lovely, if you ask me, while 'Dark Sweet Lady' is so genuine and good, my inner soft rock nerd is giddy whenever I play it (and it has a harp!).  And, furthermore, the segue into 'Your Love is Forever' (officially one of George's best, actually) is just magical.  Darn good stuff, if you're already into in the first place.  And the last song being 'If You Believe' is just appropriate beyond comprehension, isn't it?

George Harrison — Somewhere in England (1981)

And one last overproduced noble failure from George.  It has 'All Those Years Ago' which was a hit and which I knew rather well when I was a kid (the things one forgets!).  Overall, there seems even less of what made his past albums somewhat charming present here.  'Writing's on the Wall' reminds me of the overproduced, earnest George I love, but not much else here is worth more than one listen for anyone except diehards.

The Trypes — Music for Neighbors (1983/1984)

I can't even begin to describe the rush I get from listening to this music.  Feelies affiliation or no, I am so into this band.  Granted, nobody would even have paid attention to them without Glenn Mercer or Bill Million's involvement, but it blew my mind to learn that this band, as a working unit, actually predated the Feelies.  The only recorded documents of the band under this name just happened to occur when members of the Feelies were in the group.  As a document of a group of friends getting together and screwing around, it's pretty entertaining.  As a piece of Americana and documenting one of the more fascinating evolutions in musical growth (in contemporary terms), it's priceless.  Acute Records is to be commended for their efforts.  Although this album appears as an anonymous slate brown spine in the above scan, everything else is handled with excellent care in this gorgeous package.  This compilation documents the band's only official release at the time with a bunch of extras.  'From the (Morning Glories)' is just unbelievably good.  The original version of 'The Undertow' (which the Feelies would redo a couple years later) is here among the initial output, while 'A Plan, Revised' comes along and just blows everything in its path away, very quietly.  Seriously, that thing is just godlike.  They're like a darker, more serious version of Shrimp Boat.  Jangly, 60's-obsessed (two Beatles covers!) and not afraid of noise or just rocking out, it's a document of a band that should have been more than just a sub-footnote.  Yeah, it's about time some of these previously only regionally heard American bands come forward and get their due acclaim.  Just absolutely and thoroughly brilliant.  Get this album immediately.  Help yourself to some free downloads in the meantime.

~Austin

A synth-pop mix for summer.

Not sure why, but I always feel like dated synth sounds and shamelessly poppy tunes accompany hot weather really well.  Here's a mix to enhance hot days and long sunsets.  I've subtitled this mix "I'm tired of crying on the stairs." 

Synth pop summer mix by Austintayeshus on Mixcloud

1)  Simple Minds — 'Someone Somewhere in Summertime' (extended mix) (1982)
2)  Depeche Mode — 'New Life' (1981)
3)  The The — 'That Was the Day' (1983)
4)  Tears for Fears — 'Pale Shelter' (1983)
5)  Tones on Tail — 'Performance' (1984)
6)  Pet Shop Boys — 'Love Comes Quickly' (extended mix) (1986)
7)  The Blue Nile — 'The Downtown Lights' (1989)
8)  The Horrors — 'You Said' (2011)
9)  The Wake — 'Talk About the Past' (Kid Jensen Session) (1984)
10)  The Human League — 'Seconds' (1981)
11)  For Against — 'Amen Yves (White Circles)' (1984)
12)  Kate Bush — 'Experiment IV' (extended mix) (1985)
13)  Future Conditional feat. Bob Wratten — 'We Don't Just Disappear' (2007)
14)  New Order — 'Vanishing Point' (1989)
15)  Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark — 'Sacred Heart' (1981)
16)  David Sylvian and Ryuichi Sakamoto — 'Forbidden Colours' (1983)
17)  Gary Numan — 'Cry, the Clock Said' (1981)
18)  The Postal Service — 'Sleeping In' (2003)

Enjoy.

~Austin

What's New?: 5.28.2012

Happy Memorial Day!  Let's go. . .

Andrew Bird — The Crown Salesman / So Much Wine single (2012)
 
Two tunes not on Break it Yourself, but presumably recorded at the same time.  'Crown Salesman' is just about the noisiest thing he's yet recorded, complete with a blaring, distortion-drenched coda.  'So Much Wine' is another one that plays up Andrew's recent folk-leanings (dig the faux Neil Young solo).  As two non-album pieces meant to compliment Break it Yourself, this 45rpm 7" single is a complete success.  I understand why they were cut from the album, but I'm glad these songs were not held back.

Andrew Bird's Bowl of Fire — Thrills (1998)
 
Born of the American Swing revival in the 90's, it figures that Andrew's first mass-distributed album is very much in that style.  I lived through it and wasn't crazy about it at the time, and even now, I'd say this is probably his "worst" album just based on gimmicky it now feels.  I can say this is one instance where Andrew's lyrics are a genuine put off for me.  However, the playing is obviously pretty passionate and when the band really cooks on the opener 'Minor Stab' I can definitely dig it.  When they really start to jam, it's good, but mostly, it's just an adequate, at times catchy, Swing revival affair.  Nothing really here that indicates the unique talent that was looming below.

Andrew Bird's Bowl of Fire — Oh!  The Grandeur (1999)
 
More of the same, basically.  Andrew's vocal style becomes a bit more recognizable here, but the musical backing is just as swingin' as on Thrills.  'Wait' is a fantastic ballad and probably the highlight here.  Otherwise, this is just another pleasant precursor to what he would really become. 

Andrew Bird's Bowl of Fire — The Swimming Hour (2001)
 
In the first thirty seconds of this thing, it's immediately clear that this is not the same Bowl of Fire as was heard on the previous two albums.  Truly, Andrew Bird as we now know him, seems to be created in that pre-song ambiance before the decidedly contemporary tune 'Two Way Action' finally kicks into gear.  It's certainly a little more rocked-up than usual, but it's unlike anything that had appeared on an Andrew Bird album previously.  And that's the essence of this album: it's just about trying something new.  'Case in Point' features, I believe, the very first instance of Andrew overdubbing his pizzicati and bowed violin, so that's fun.  As a whole, this album sounds more like a gypsy rock record (think Devotchka or early Calexico) than a swing revival one and it can be now be asserted, in retrospect, as the true turning point in Andrew Bird's catalogue.  Weather Systems is probably the first album that the "new" Andrew Bird recorded, but the Swimming Hour finds him saying goodbye to his previous musical self and squeezing every ounce of possibility out of his former musical guise.  Pretty fun, when his entire evolution is considered. 

The Durutti Column — Vini Reilly (deluxe edition) (1988/1989)
 
A second proper reissue for one of the most definitive and brilliant statements ever captured by a contemporary musician.  The initial reissue from 1996 added a wealth of bonus material, all of which is left off this recent Kooky reissue from last year.  Instead, disc one of this reissue leaves the original thirteen song album as is and adds a nine song bonus disc of completely previously unissued bonus material.  I will be keeping my old CD copy of the 1996 reissue because it gathers up things that are not otherwise available, while this recent reissue adds demos and outtakes from the time period that are equally as essential.  The documentation of the different pieces of 'Finding the Sea' coming together as one is worth the pricetag on its own.  Elsewhere the demo for 'William B' is a moody and solitary piece all on its own, while the multi-part 'Sketches on Stratocaster' is a piece of Vini Reilly virtuosity that is thankfully preserved.  Between the 1996 reissue and this new version, there is now a proper deluxe edition.  Advice: program the two together and you get a thirty song, 102 minute masterpiece of a musician so happy and so bubbling over with creativity that he can hardly contain himself.  Only one of the greatest and most important albums ever.  All that and it has 'Otis' on it. Win.

The Beatles —Let it Be. . . Naked (1969/2003)
 
So many thoughts and feelings caught up in the Beatles.  Where to begin?  I've commented on some solo things recently and I should now disclose the bulk of why that is: I've come under the opinion in the last year or two that the Beatles are, in fact, overrated and obnoxious, but okay to like.  I hate that generations upon generations will have them forced down their collective throats with no obvious alternative presented.  I hate that simply adequate musicians have been elevated to the status of gods, while so many of their contemporaries have subsequently fallen into obscurity because they simply weren't as popular.  I hate that people just take them as being "the best" without actually digging and deciding for themselves.  But, all that aside, I like their actual music.  I have owned (most of) their catalogue for some time, just have never felt the desire to listen to it through most of my late 20's, out of sheer posturing and worry of what I will look like as a supposed "serious" music fan listening to the Beatles.  I guess I'm officially old enough to not give a fuck anymore, because when I was presented with the opportunity to buy this revised edition of Let it Be at a nice price recently, I leaped at it.  Let it Be has always been the ugly stepchild of the later Beatles output.  I have always loved it, with the exception of 'The Long and Winding Road', unconditionally.  Not as bloated as the White Album, more fun than Abbey Road.  I was far too into my self-obsessed "music fan too cool for the Beatles" phase when this Naked edition of the album was released to be concerned.  It's not the Let it Be album presented definitively (any Beatles scholar will remark on how the initial sessions for the album were troubled, which resulted in the album coming after Abbey Road, despite actually being completed before the Abbey Road sessions).  It is an alternate version of what actually happened during those initial 1969 recording sessions though.  Of course, at the time, I thought, "Oh, now that George is dead, Paul is doing whatever he wants."  And part of me still feels that way.  But, lookah here, 'The Long and Winding Road' is actually listenable!  The new sequencing is. . . interesting.  I don't like that 'Two of Us' (secretly one of the band's top five songs ever) isn't the leadoff song anymore, but I do like that John's previously non-album b-side 'Don't Let Me Down' is included and George's 'For You Blue' has been elevated to track three.  Otherwise, my biggest obvious complaint is that the between song bits have disappeared.  Granted, they painted a picture of the band as silly, bickering, goof-offs, but it told a story of four people that had been painted as demigods and wanted to lower their own egos a bit.  It was perhaps too real, as the infamous film that documented the sessions has remained an obscurity since its initial run.  And now, here's this new version of the album will be the one that surely good quantities of new generations get introduced to and I'm still unsure how to feel about that.  It's a valid revision, to be sure.  I have my reservations about it, but, the question remains: is it any good?  Yes, it is.  It strips the album back to its barest of essentials (which was the point all along).  It's not an improved version of the album, just a different variation.  Is it valid?  Yes.  Is it worthwhile?  Yes.  Is it better?  Nope.

~Austin

For your information, Vini Reilly is an excellent person.

I don't know.

It's late.

I've been thinking about this.

He's obviously better at making music than most.

But, I don't know. 

Just knowing that he is there, recording beautifully noodly little vamps into his portastudio just makes me feel hopeful about the world around me.  It's as if he's just this little sub-universe unto himself and anybody that hasn't heard LC or Idiot Savants hasn't ever known true beauty and an actual lust for life.

His personal struggles, his demons.  Love, loss, death, unimaginable pain and pleasure are all found in his music.  To know his music is to know the understanding that life outside the womb is confusing as hell, but ultimately, worth the journey if for nothing else than the scenery.

His is a music of world-weary, life-affirming brilliance.  Not everything will be golden, pretty and joyous, but it will sure as hell be worth consideration.

Proof:

Exhibit A

Exhibit B

Exhibit C

Exhibit D

Exhibit E

Exhibit F

Exhibit G

I wish he would never stop playing.

Because he is one of the best ever.


~Austin