Hi, I’m Chin Curtain. Thanks to Red Beard and Black Beard for the invite.
Let’s start off by breaking a law. Well, a rule, yet one defended by people in uniform.
Listening to music while on an airplane during take-off.
Bilinda Butcher: The only flight attendant you'll ever need.
You’re not allowed to do this for reasons that strain credulity. In theory, the ‘signal’ from your portable device could interfere with the pilot’s ability to receive messages from air traffic control. A friend of mine who knows some stuff about computers and radio transmitters laughed along with me on this one, adding “If you start to hear even faint, static-y messages from air traffic control on your mp3 player, then, yes, you better turn it off.”
By all means, more intelligent people than I (such as pilots) can deride me in the comments section below to explain the necessity of this rule. And to clarify, if a plane ever starts to plunge toward an imminent crash due to me listening to a mp3 player, then I’ll stand up in my aisle and responsibly deliver a ‘My bad, my bad, sorry ’bout that’ apology to the terrified crowd around me.
Now, before I get into what specific take-off album is essential for your future air travel, let’s plot through how you do this. Typically, a flight attendant will announce this ‘no portable device’ rule out loud. But only a determined few will enforce it by asking you why your headphones are still on while walking by or imply you take them off.
I handle this with two simple actions. First, in preemptive anticipation of this confrontation, I pretend to listen attentively during the amusing charade of the flight attendant’s pantomimic instructions for water landings, oxygen masks and seat belts. That way, the attendant won’t notice you obliviously head-nodding to Jay-Z while staring out the window – a recipe for interrogation.
Second, if the question arrives from an attendant (usually during the time they’re briefly checking every aisle to see if seat belts are fastened) of why your headphones are still on, nod throughout the inquiry and just slightly cut it off toward the end by saying “I know, it’s off. I’m using the headphones to suppress the noise.”
Finally, if you get busted by some astute prick sitting near you who points out to either you or the attendant that your mp3 player is indeed turned on, look your co-passenger in the eye and tell them straight-faced you listen to music during take-off because it calms you and that you weren’t aware of this rule. Since you’re busted, while the airplane begins its rocky ascent down the runway, visibly shake a lot and ask out loud “What’s going on now? Ohmygod, what’s going on now!?” repeatedly to the person who ratted you out. After that, never, ever fly with that airline again.
OK, so now to the essential take-off album: Loveless by My Bloody Valentine. To be listened to only when at a window seat while the sun’s out.
Many words of critical praise were written for Loveless. And some books too. It’s considered a very important album to record store geeks and music nerds. Yet there’s only one proper way to utilize the album and I’ve never heard it mentioned.
The reason Loveless is perfect for flight take-offs is due to the record’s hazy dissonance. And it’s loud. Not in that awkward digital clipping way, just loud for its era.
Loveless has a consistent distortion that sounds both ethereal and intrusive. Many songs on the album go at a pace that defy most basic rhythms, seemingly sounding both fast and slow. For example, “Soon”, the last track on Loveless, has a standard British dance back beat for that era yet the waves of distortion are stretched over it to jostle the song’s arrangement. (The percussion featured on that exceptional track is the album’s most audible among the guitar dominance of the others. Burying the drums throughout production gave Loveless its undefinable, unique pace.)
During a flight, you’re going to get a parallel experience with your aural and visual intake. Unless you’re one of those weird sociopaths with noise-canceling headphones (here’s ad copy from a Wired Magazine in July honing in the noise-canceler demographic: “Sometimes creating your own sonic bubble is essential to getting work done and maintaining overall sanity in a crowded location. Really, how long are you going to listen to that woman in the coffee shop go on and on about her kids?”), the consistent engine drone from the plane plays a perfect background instrument to the hypnotic distortions and pleasant drones of Loveless. Experiencing this would make Roger Waters ignore any bathroom impulse and proudly pee his pants. It would force a tear of joy from Brian Eno’s presumably dry ducts.
Visually, the window seat view is a gorgeous approximation of Loveless‘ otherworldly tone regardless of where you’re traveling. All those mesmerizing moments witnessed of the landscape below you slowly but steadily crawling by – despite the reality of flying at hundreds of miles an hour – coincides with the album’s aforementioned pace. Watching clouds pass by at eye level while listening to “To Here Knows When” or “Blown a Wish” is breathtaking. The quiet wonder and terror of looking out from a window seat is fascinating enough to embrace but the proper music mystifies that vulnerability, giving you a state of relaxation akin to accepting death.
To get even more specific, if you can somehow time it this way, try to listen to “Only Shallow”, the album’s first track, while the plane is still navigating roads toward the runway. (What’s tricky about this is each flight has a different time-frame for driving through traffic, waiting for other planes to leave, etc.) If within those last 30 seconds of the song the plane starts to accelerate for flight, you’re in for a treat.
“Loomer”, track two and one of my favorite songs ever, is the ideal flight take-off track. You know how the turbulence and fight with gravity during ascent pushes your head around and down a bit? Listening to “Loomer” is exactly like that. The song’s insistent, muffled beat pleasantly surfs along the heady layers of distortion and Bilinda Butcher’s sleepy, seductive voice. Although that’s my most consistent moment of pleasure during the synchronicity, I’ve found – as you will – other beautiful moments of discovery in repeat plane listens. Especially if you’re lucky enough to have your flight occur during a clear dawn or dusk. But even a foggy window view throughout doesn’t diminish the album’s mile-high allure.
The whole cumulative 48-minute experience will leave you dreamy-eyed enough afterward to look over intimately at that obese salesman next to you reading Tom Clancy with a gaze that should provoke even more discomfort from him. He should have trusted his instincts and ratted you out. Damn hippies.
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