Hellbent for Lent

Boy, that title sounds awkward. But lapsed Catholic or not, Lent is a greason for testing willpower.

Last year I quietly quit sweets. This year, I aimed higher. Until Easter, I am prohibited from buying, streaming, downloading in any form any new music. No new vinyl, used or otherwise. That means no First Listens from NPR, Pitchfork or Spinner. That means missing out on Record Store Day exclusives. I will live.

I need a break from music consumerism. Since college, my buying habits only worsened. Since my CD burner died and I have dealt exclusively in MP3s and records, it has skyrocketed. In the past year, too many nights have ended with the single-click purchase of MP3 albums.

For 40 days, I plan to spend the time scavenging my record collection for the unlistened, the rarely played and records in need of revisitation. I have crates of records demanding attention. They will receive it.

I'll start briefly with a record that has stuck with me recently: Wild Honey by the Beach Boys. Expect a few paragraphs a few times a week.

There's a ton of detritus in the post-Pet Sounds Beach Boys catalog. Wild Honey came out in 1967, the same year as the awkward Smiley Smile.

The first three songs alone are worth the price of admission, especially the Stevie Wonder cover, I Was Made to Love Here. Carl Wilson's white soulman vocals initially sound out of place. Once accustomed to his tones, they have a strange but friendly power.

It doesn't have the staying power of a truly great record, but at 24 minutes, Wild Honey is no novelty. As a bonus, the record flies by, ending before any of it causes anger.