Stegzy's Music Project

A commentary on Stegzy's album collection

I Like to Score – Moby #602


I Like to Score – Moby

Coffee table hipster music nineties style from everyone’s favourite baldy hipster nineties musician Moby. This is the album that everyone bought after he released Play in an effort to seem more culturally independent amongst their fellow Saturday Guardian supplement reading proto-hipsters by showing ownership of his previously released albums.


Comprising of a selection of Moby’s music written for film, I Like To Score does feature some good tunes including First Cool Hive from Scream, Ah-Ah from Cool World and his take on the James Bond theme as used in Tomorrow Never Dies. 

As I’ve said before, even though I have a few Moby albums, I’m not a massive Moby fan. But it’s difficult to have been an adult in the nineties/noughties without having some Moby in your music collection. As I’ve also said, I’ve tried to like Moby, but I really do struggle.


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Hotel – Moby [#591]

Moby_Hotel.jpgI really want to like Moby. I’ve tried. It just seems that all his music sounds the same. Almost. It also seems that most of the music that Moby writes somehow ends up in a film at some point.

Inspired by Moby’s fascination with hotels and their nature Hotel is Moby’s seventh album following on from 18 and Play. He has said in an interview that this is his least favourite of his albums. Conversely, I find it the most accessible of the artist’s catalogue but saying that I haven’t listened to the album that many times either.

The album comes with two bonus discs, Hotel: Ambient and Hotel: B-Sides. I’ve long since disposed of Ambient and B-Sides went to the recycle bin last year.


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Destroyed – Moby [#366]

Screen Shot 2015-07-27 at 19.15.24 Moby eh?

If ever there was a soundtrack in the late nineties early noughties you could probably bet ten bob on it featuring good old baldy bonce Moby. It was like you couldn’t listen to anything without it having had some Moby influence.

Moby moby moby.

I followed the herd and eventually grew to love his quintessential Play and I suppose I’ll take my hat off to his I Like to Score but by 2004 I’d got bored with him. I suspect the rest of the world did too because his later albums, Hotel, 18 and today’s album Destroyed haven’t been played to death by people looking for music for their film/documentary.

Destroyed is a bit bollocks. Much like Jarre, Moby becomes a bit common place and because of this there is nothing new or innovative. Destroyed is Moby pure and simple but it’s a tired Moby. An “I’ve got to release this album because I’m contractually obliged to” Moby. I imagine that the reason he titled the album Destroyed is because it is a reflection on his ability to produce something new.

Still, I’m sure he’ll do what Mike Oldfield did and reappear with something spectacular after a few years of nothingness.

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Music Project – Album #11: 18 – Moby

18 by Moby

Ah Moby. Your baldness makes you who you are.

I’ve never been a huge fan of Moby. To me, his albums are nothing but coffee table music. The kind of music you put on when you’ve got some girl back to your flat that you want to romance over very large glasses of red wine in the warm autumn evenings.

Unfortunately, every music editor for television documentaries and films since 1997 has immediately turned to Moby for incidental or illustrative music. 18 is one of those albums where you spend the majority of the time listening to it half expecting to see the irritating toothy grin of “Professor” Brian Cocks [sic] loom into view and give one of his patronising monologues about why you are doing the dishes.

After you have washed Brian Cocks’ blood off your hands you then start to muse about which film the song you are listening to appeared in (Extreme Ways is the end credits tune for the Bourne films). Your date looks on horrified at the bloodied corpse of Brian Cocks and listens to your pleas that it was for the best as you could never let him take the over Sky at Night since Patrick Moore’s death. It was for the good of the nation. At this point she picks up her bag and leaves. The evening spoilt. Thanks to Brian Cocks. Brian Cocks and his baldy musical chum Moby. He looks at you from the album cover. Grinning that “Heh! I’m famous for playing bits of records me!” smile and you vow to track him down and do the same to him as you have done with Brian Cocks.

Then, while you clean up the bloody cadavers of Moby, Cocks, Cameron and anyone else that takes your fancy, you think “Hey! What I could do with is some nice background music. I’ll put that Moby CD on…”

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