Gil Scott-Heron: I'm New Here

Yesterday I bought the new Gil Scott-Heron album, I’m New Here.  I put it on my computer last night, but my first listen took place this morning on my drive to work.  It was somewhere around track 4, “Your Soul And Mine” that I hit a red light on Halsted and Grand and decided to look through the LP’s liner notes, as I was curious to who handled the production and instrumentation on the album.  I opened the CD case, and the back of the liner notes greeted me with the following message:  

“There is a proper procedure for taking advantage of any investment.  Music, for example.  Buying a CD is an investment.  To get the maximum you must

Listen to it for the FIRST TIME under optimum conditions.

Not in your car or on a portable player through a headset.  Take it home.  Get rid of all distractions, (even her or him).  Turn off your cell phone.  Turn off everything that rings or beeps or rattles or whistles.  Make yourself comfortable.  Play your CD.  LISTEN all the way through.  Think about what you got.  Think about who would appreciate this investment.  Decide if there is someone to share this with.  Turn it on again.  Enjoy yourself.”

Gil Scott

It was there, in mid-morning traffic, with the volume almost all the way up on track number 4 that I became absolutely clueless as to what to do.  I clearly violated the terms of this listening experience… the VERY FIRST term, as I was listening to the CD in my car on the way to the office, not exactly optimum conditions.  My first thought was turning off the album all together and listening to something else to finish the ride.  But, the seal was already broken, and I could never get back that first listen.  I know it sounds crazy, but I really felt bad, like I disappointed Mr. Scott-Heron, and shouldn’t be listening to his art in this manner. 

I mean, he wasn’t making any outlandish demands.  And he explained everything very logically… The music was an investment.  I paid money in exchange for entertainment, inspiration, thought-provocation, and really, to own a piece of history.  Well, I didn’t turn the music off.  I listened, and by the time I was parking my car, “On Coming From A Broken Home (Part 2)”, was reaching its final seconds thus bringing I’m New Here to its completion.

Was this a waste?  No.  It passed the time on my drive and I very much enjoyed the album.  I don’t have buyer’s remorse (thank g-d, $15.99 is not easy to part with these days).  However, I don’t fully recall much from the album except blanket themes, an overall mood.  I remember one point where Scott-Heron sounded a lot like Johnny Cash… I don’t really know where this is going from here, except that the album’s liner notes really struck me and how I feel about music.  It is an investment, and it is a valuable one.  We’re living in an age though where so much music is released for free, without any imagery, without any content, without any plan.  For the last two years I’ve been one of the people that has participated in this vehicle, posting randoms tracks at random times.  But, I guess, I’m just growing tired of this model.  And now with the release of Closed Sessions and the forming of this label I am even more conscious of it.

Gil Scott-Heron is most famous for his song “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised”, a still relevant piece about commercialism and revolution, the mainstream and the underground, cooperation and co-opting.  Today’s revolution will not be televised either, but it may just leak online without warning, without context, and possibly without much notice.