Exactly a week ago, I saw Alexander Payne’s
“Sideways,” which opened with exceptionally rave
reviews ““ mostly because it’s a great film, and partly
because movie critics are old people who identify all too painfully
with its themes of mid-life insecurities.
It’s exactly the kind of movie that would otherwise strike
a chord with any UCLA student ““ a couple of guys go on a road
trip through California to bond, get soused and try to get laid
““ except these guys are 40, so it’s a little harder to
relate. There are a lot of vintage jazzy melodies with titles like
“Wine Safari” and “Chasing the Golfers” to
provide the soundtrack while these guys tear up the Santa Ynez
Valley and essentially get drunk.
It has almost become a rite of passage for students here to go
on a road trip with some of the above intentions, and at some point
cruise down the 101 checking out the pretty scenery.
We pack along all kinds of CDs to accompany the drive, none with
the word “golfers” in them, but ““ from my
experiences at least ““ despite our youth and vitality, many
of us feel compelled to listen to older music on these trips,
especially classic rock. Music by artists like Led Zeppelin, Neil
Young or more friendly avian fare like the Byrds and the Eagles.
I’m personally a huge fan of the lazy, sentimental sweep of
not-so-American late ’60s Kinks records ““ Dad-rock.
Maybe it’s something about the grandiosity of the
countryside or the feeling of participating in a nostalgic
tradition that’s larger than you; perhaps we’re just
acting out what lesser buddy-trip movies have ingrained into us.
Whatever it is, whenever I go on one of these trips, someone
invariably pulls out a CD older than I am. And while it’s
admittedly pretty cool to admire a sunset to the strumming of Nick
Drake, he can’t really provide any kind of unique
generational stamp on the experience.
This past weekend, a few buddies and I hit the road in search of
some fun at Cal Arts and then at UC Santa Barbara, which were
holding their respective Halloween festivities. Combining that trip
with my past experiences on California’s freeways, I’ve
found there is no lack of viable modern successors to the older
road trip standards.
Indie rock, first and foremost, works pretty darn well, with
Modest Mouse’s “The Moon and Antarctica” and
Wilco’s “Yankee Hotel Foxtrot” among the best of
the post-millennial bunch.
And no one even notices when you sub in some Elliott Smith for
Drake. I’ve been tempted at times to try and sneak in the
Thrills, what with their sunny Californian disposition and all, but
they’re from Dublin, and they also kind of suck.
For that sunny happy vibe, I stick with the Avalanches’
“Since I Left You.” They’re from Australia, and
they don’t suck.
Other appropriate sample-based albums are DJ Shadow’s
“The Private Press” and RJD2’s
“Deadringer,” which will relax and mellow you out
without being boring.
Hip hop is generally too much of an urban genre to work as road
trip music, but an exception is Deltron 3030 ““ it’s
epic and spacey. And, I’ve heard, sounds even better when
under the influence of those illicit substances so popular among
the college crowd. (And if that’s your thing, you simply
can’t miss out on the otherworldly, made-up-language pop of
“Agaetis Byrjun,” by Iceland’s post-whatever
Sigur Ros.)
Without fail, I inevitably end up in a situation where
everyone’s tired and it’s too late at night to be
driving without the legitimate fear of the driver falling asleep at
the wheel and causing a horrific collision that leaves us all more
deformed than Thom Yorke. For these kinds of occasions, I’ve
traditionally relied on blasting “Purple Rain” at
unreasonably high volumes, but have now discovered that Basement
Jaxx works just as well for anyone with a pulse.
Finally, though, is the ace up my sleeve: D’Angelo’s
“Voodoo,” which, more than any other album in the last
few years, simply makes you feel
cooler-than-a-polar-bear’s-toenail cool when you listen to
it, like the coolest cat on the road.
The first track on the “Sideways” score is called
“Asphalt Groovin’,” but it really can’t
compare.
The lesson: It’s easy and fun to update your road trip
rotation. You don’t have to listen to grand old people to
have a grand old time.
Even if you are pushing 40.
E-mail Lee at alee2@media.ucla.edu.