I don’t believe in objective aesthetic standards. People like what they like, and there’s no fair means of determining what they should like, so it’s best to let people watch/read/listen to what makes them happiest without judgment. So when I say that Big Star’s #1 Record is my favorite album of all time, that may not mean much to anyone but me. But, man, it’s just the greatest record. Sure, there are lulls, like on “The India Song” or “Try Again”, but those lulls are better than most albums’ highlights, and are immediately followed by glorious punches in the gut (“When My Baby’s Beside Me”, “Give Me Another Chance”) that renew your faith in pop, in music, in culture, in everything. And that’s not even mentioning the one-two-three-four opening slam of “Feel”, “The Ballad of El Goodo”, “In the Street”, and “Thirteen”. “Would you be an outlaw for my love?” is just about everything you want in a love song lyric. A lifetime of listening to my namesake’s music meant that “Like a Rolling Stone” didn’t “kick open the doors to my mind” as a teenager, but damned if the opening chords of “Feel” didn’t. And that chorus, oh, that chorus. That’s everything good and right in this world condensed into five seconds:
That’s not even counting the two other transcendent albums Big Star made. Hell, Radio City is clearly the weakest of the three and it has “She’s a Mover” on it:
So yeah. You could say I’m an Alex Chilton fan. And that he died at 59 upset me more than is strictly reasonable.
“Kizza Me”. Why not?