Anna Minard claims to "know nothing about music." For this column, we force her to listen to random records by artists considered to be important by music nerds.
DEAD CAN DANCE The Serpent's Egg (4AD)
It's windy and cold outside, big burly clouds scooting across the tops of condos, everyone's summer-remnant patio umbrellas whipping in the wind, the light between tree branches winking on and off. Earlier today, a swarm of birds was moving en masse back and forth in front of the window in front of me, a swooping clot of wings, a free nature documentary.
I mention the window because I've been looking out it all day, and appreciating it. Our office has been turned into some noisy, disturbing S&M dungeon as they remove and replace a wall of windows, so that in place of windows is a big black zippered plastic-bag curtain shutting out all but the tiniest edges of light peeking out. I have elected to work from somewhere that is not such a horrible womb. And in doing so, I made the perfect choice. For listening to the strange angel choirs of Dead Can Dance with a perfect view of a gathering storm is exactly what I'd recommend to anyone.