Stay in love

I used to be a full-albums-listener. I held the very stubborn opinion that the atomic unit of music is the album, and the mood it delivers. Yes, I was that kind of hipsterilly-snob. And then, on some boring Tuesday, I had one of these days, which no album in my illegally large collection of nearly infinite amount of albums was appealing anymore. The so-called "moods" they had, were all angry and bad. What I had usually done in such unfortunate cases, was finding a new album to download and I was good for the day, but this time the mood of the albums was so horrible, that it made me suspect the quality of my music-discovering methods. My toolbox of methods was something a well-tamed hipster would be proud of; among others, it included last.fm users crawling, esoteric blogs hopping and the traditional, yet delivering, method of reading reviews in selected magazines. Alas, these tools, all came from the same contaminated box that make perfectly nice albums have a temper, so I had to find a new one.

Now it's probably a good time to disclose the fact I have zero loyalty whatsoever to music genres and/or artists. As a child growing in an authentic Yemenite-Israeli house [ 1 ] I mostly listened to middle-eastern, frills and belly dancing, music. I even had an authentic Moroccan-Persian girlfriend. Then, at the age of 14, I did the reasonable transition to progressive house music. This period was remarkable; I was convinced I had had the world's best taste in music [ 2 ]. On that time, Napster was new to world and following that came along Audio Galaxy and memorable Soul Seek. That was the good time, when the whole digital era was just starting to take shape, with neither rules nor owners, no GEMA or Pitchfork - it was no man's land. After that, I had the very typical-Israeli classic rock era, in which I particularly listened to Bob Dylan, whose entire discography [ 3 ] was accompanying me throughout a one year journey in south America, there I met Rachel who introduced me to indie music from the first paragraph.

Each new era in music followed by completely abandoning the previous pile of music I eagerly collected. Usually, there were no survivors to such a ruthless event, but one DJ somehow faintly remained in my memory. I used this name as a thread that I hoped will lead me to an all-new, shining section of music I must have carelessly overlooked. The first result on Google led me to his record label's website [ 4 ] which its outstanding design helped me stay and click on some of the circles to find out what they did. One of these circles contained ______, a Techno group I was willing to swear in the name of, and to spend my entire time convincing my poor friends to listen to their unbearably dazzling tunes, but obviously to no avail.

This whole credibility-killer exposition has no other purpose but tell you I'm convinced this is not the case with Nicolas Jaar and his exceptional BBC1 essential mix. This could easily diagnosed suffering from the same bias, as the symptoms are undisputedly similar - In an extremely late night hour of insomnia, I found myself on BBC1 website, five minutes before this mix was broadcasted. I was about to give up to my bed that was uncompetitively attractive at that time of 3 am but I was too tired to get up from my chair so I stayed and listened. In the morning after, I rushed to post it in some hipster group on Facebook and the rest is history [ 5 ]. But now seriously, and regardless to all that was being said above - I don't just like it because I've heard it live; I don't just like it for Christ sake, I absolutely love it, and so are all the other people who listened to it. It's pretty hard to convey the feeling with just words; it's haunting, with so many different moods to it so you won't easily get bored, from baroque to N-Sync with everything in between. Nicolas Jaar is a gifted musician with many projects and tracks that became instant favorites, and here, he gave his listeners his private favorites, and the result is nothing short of a dream.

listen

[1] Yes, even though it's a mix, it's totally authentic.

[2] In the late nineties, I definitely had!

[3] 35 Studio albums, 13 Live albums, 15 Compilation albums - that sums up to way more albums by a single artist, than one should ever listen to. That's on the verge of worshiping.

[4] Click here and you'll find out it was a shameless lie.

[5] Such an empty cliche - of course it's history, just like everything else, but I'm aware of this cliche so it's okay for me to use it. that's common knowledge.