| The best band ever |
[Mar. 19th, 2007|10:25 am] |
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Check out Internet, especially if you are on MySpace. |
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| Friends only |
[Mar. 13th, 2007|09:51 pm] |
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Um, you probably notice that it looks like I'm not posting much if you're not on my friends list. This journal is now "friends-only" because I'm actually writing about my life now, not about music (not that anyone cares about either). Still, if you want to read it, you'd better be my friend on livejournal. You can comment to ask to be my friend and I can add you, but I bet that's not going to happen. |
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| This is a little troubling |
[Sep. 12th, 2006|09:33 am] |
Apparently, someone has a song about me out.
(Not really, but, you know. Still strange.) |
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| "Where I am paralyzed by emptiness" |
[Jul. 16th, 2006|08:20 am] |
| [ | music |
| | "Blue Factory Flame" - Songs:Ohia | ] |
The music we enjoy usually reflects our mood in some way. When I'm feeling happy, there is The Shins. When I'm feeling anxious, there is Songs of Zarathustra. Contentness calls for Curtis Mayfield. Other moods call for other types of music.
Lately, I've been eating junk food and listening to Songs:Ohia. Take that for what it is.
I'm not talking about the Magnolia Electric Co. Jason Molina, now that he's changed the name of his band, seems to fancy himself the modern day indie lovechild of Neil Young and Bruce Springsteen. Instead of doing depressing songs using strange analogies from the animal kingdom ("Coxcomb Red," "The Lioness," etc.), Molina has decided to write about the industrial north. Granted, the records still sound desperate, but there a certain lack of angst there that I sorely miss.
That's probably why, when I felt like eating junk food and listening to depressing music, I busted out my copy of "Didn't it Rain." Like the Magnolia Electric Co. album (the one with "Farewell Transmission" on it), it is Molina at his finest. Those two records have Molins using the Young/Springsteen model (driving rhytmns, slide guitars, etc) with his own lyrical suicide notes. "I've Been Riding With The Ghost" is an excellent example, as is "Farewell Transmission." Each has the lyrics elements of death while actually building on a musical theme (as opposed to "The Lioness," the pinnacle of Molina's driving, one riff repeated musical model).
Along with "Farewell Transmission," I'd say "Blue Factory Flame" is my favorite of Molina's songs. From the opening line ("When i die put my bones in an empty street to remind me of how it used to be"), the song is clearly a Molina special in that the first verse is all about dank, dark funeral arrangements. Similarly, the lyrics reflect a very industrial frontier ("and by the oil that they bleed the crew and crows fly the skulls and bones/they fly the colors of their homes i fly the cross of the blue factory flame") that is similarly dank and dark.
I wrote about six months ago about the angst-ridden lyrics of Trent Reznor and why I have some trouble sharing my angst with Reznor. I have no such problems with Molina. Because his music is so steeped in imagery -- certainly more than "this is the first day/of my last life" -- it is much easier to take it to heart. Quite simply, "I am paralyzed by emptiness" or "Never say to come home" aren't hugely different from "Wish there was something real/wish there was something true" or "This is the first day of my last life." Both songs reflect a level of unhappiness that is overly melodramatic.
But, as in music, delivery is everything. Instead of the flaming, youthful arrogance/screaming that Reznor perfected, Molina clearly has the hopelessness of a dead ended adult. It's the same difference between grown man music and teenage music; The difference between "you're ruining my life!" and "I need to fix my life." Nine Inch Nails is for teenagers who are mad about math tests. Songs:Ohia is for adults in crappy situations, who don't know how to get out of them.
Those, as it were, "paralyzed by emptiness." |
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| "There must be some misunderstanding/The must be some kind of mistake." |
[Jun. 14th, 2006|08:30 pm] |
| [ | music |
| | Genesis - "Misunderstanding" | ] |
Yesterday's "Featured article" on Wikipedia was "Phil Collins." I think I may be taking an opinion that is impossible to defend, but I think Phil Collins is a pretty good songwriter. Not a good singer, not a fantastic drummer (or musician, in general), but a pretty good songwriter, if only on the strength of a few top-notch songs.
It's not the best song ever, but "Misunderstanding" is a pretty cool song. It's horribly dated (what songs from the '80s don't sound dated?), but the actual sentiment and rythymns are pretty cool.
Everyone knows my love for Gabriel-era Genesis; They were an excellent prog band. My friend Tehft said to me, upon my telling him how much I like some of Collins' songs, "Phil Collins ruined Genesis."
That's not true. He changed Genesis into a pop band, and they weren't very good at that. Outside of some stray singles and one good album ("Invisible Touch"), Genesis wasn't very good at being a pop band. Considering they ended up doing songs like "I Can't Dance," it is pretty hard to defend the Collins-era Genesis.
That's not what I'm writing to do. I'm trying to defend Collins as a songwriter.
Let's get one thing clear: Phil Collins isn't a great songwriter. He's not John Lennon. Few people are. Hell, he's not even Sting, who wrote a ton of great songs for The Police. But, he's not Crap-Face Magee, either.
Again, because he did a lot of his best work in the early 80s, those songs sound pretty dated right now. They were released in the heyday of cheesy synths, bad production and strange bridges.
Of course, his best two songs are ones that have been covered in the last 5-10 years. "Against All Odds" has been done by both Mariah Carey (not so good) and The Postal Service (excellent). The "Take a look at me now" chorus line is pretty amazing as a singular melody and the sentiment is wonderful. In the same line as "Say Yes" (yeah, I compared Phil Collins to Elliott Smith), Collins picks up the classic desperation breakup feelings. It's the perfect "I hate you, I love you" song in the same way "Say Yes" is a great "I miss you, I love you, I can't hate you" song. I suspect most of us have been in both of those places.
Of course, his best song never really sounds dated. The Miami Heat use the original version of "In the Air Tonight" as a pump up song for their crown, Ray Lewis listens to it before games and I imagine it'll make an appearance in the new "Miami Vice" movie (it was used in one of the more memorable scenes in the TV show). As good as the original version is, GodHeadSilo's cover is even better. The darkness of the song is a little tough to digest with Phil "No Jacket Required" Collins singing it. Drums or not, the song desn't always work great with him singing. Not so with GHS. The true deepeness of the lyrics kind of growls through in that cover. However dark the song is by Collins, it's ten times worse from GHS. Another song written as a "fuck-off" to his ex-wife, "In the Air Tonight" is a really cool breakup song.
"Invisible Touch" is catchy, though it's not a particularly good song. "Land of Confusion" is a great video and a pretty interesting protest song from the '80s (an era in which non-rap protest songs sucked). But, "Against All Odds" and "In the Air Tonight" are great. "Misunderstanding" is, like those two, a great breakup song. The jilted lover's lines in it are superficial ("I was waiting in the rain for hours/You were late"), but the sentiment of despertation is pretty good.
Look, I like breakup songs; They're a lot more real than the dopey Paul McCartney-esque nonsense that dopes like Maroon 5, Jack Johnson and the like put out (Hell, "Invisible Touch" is one of those). Phil Collins did these great at the time of his divorce. I'm not saying he's John Lennon. I'm just saying he doesn't totally suck. |
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| "Stop washing me away/Stop washing me away" |
[Mar. 19th, 2006|10:17 pm] |
| [ | music |
| | Superchunk - "Watery Hands" | ] |
One of the things that inevitably comes up at a newspaper (even the community paper where I work) is the idea of new words, new slang, etc. Questions inevitably arise about whether we should use "Web blog" or "blog" or some similar new technological term.
I also err on the side of liberalism in those situations because of a professor I had. Fred Vultee, the main copy person at the University of Missouri's vaunted j-school always used to tell us that the English language is "alive." "Language evolves," he used to say.
Most would agree with the overriding theory, although they might have problems with specifics (most people don't feel comfortable, for example, with the newest, non-dictionary-recognized definition of "skeet"). But, the point is clear: E-mail didn't exist thirty years ago, so no one should expect the AP Stylebook or Webster to know how to spell it or its usage.
Evolution/change is a very natural thing, and I think there's a great deal to be said about it in everyday life. Even the most strident literalist would agree that the Framers of the United States Constitution would agree that, no, there was no radio in the 18th century, so we must take a serious look at free speech in regards to 21st-century telecommunications.
So, the idea of "language evolves" translated to me as "everything evolves." Only the truly nostalgic or ignorant can idealize the past to the point of hurting the future. I try to be on the train for new technology as much as possible. The future, to me, is very attractive. "The way things used to be" isn't.
With that said, why do I lament the end of the indie record store so much?
***
"The end is here!" say the signs. The stats are staggering. (I'm quoting directly from Prefix' Dave Park's blog entry)
- "This year alone, 200 independent record stores have closed nationwide."
- "While 97 percent of all music is sold at retail stores..."
- "That 8-foot rap section pays for two thirds of the store to be here."
- "1,380 music stores have closed nationwide since 2003. Most of them were independent retailers."
- "470 music stores have closed in 2005 alone. "
- "One in five major-label albums is bought at Wal-Mart."
- "Half of all major-label music is sold at Wal-Mart, Target or Best Buy."
The "record-store-as-soley-selling-records" concept is dead. A whole fucking lot of people buy their Nickelback records with their hamburger, VCR and shirts at Wal-Mart. A lot of people buy their computer software alongside their Gwen Stefani records.
Is this a big surprise? I mean, after all, the independent hardware store is nearly gone in the D.C.-area; All we've got is Lowe's and Home Depot. Replace "hardware" with "book" and "Lowe's and Home Depot" with "Borders and Barnes & Noble" and you get the idea.
Hell, even more prevalent is the superstore replacing all the available small stores. In the midst of having a computer place, a TV/stereo place, a record store and a video game place, we've got Circuit City. Add in a supermarket, a sporting goods store and a clothing/department store (and take out computers), we have Wal-Mart. Add some yuppies and an ugly red logo and we've got Target.
Hell, this trend started about a million years ago with the supermarket's combination of a pharmacy and a grocer. As a consumer, it's pretty nice to be able to have one-stop shopping. Not everyone has the time to get their prescriptions filled at one place, their fruit at a fruit stand and their bread at a bakery.
Similarly, Wal-Mart was a huge hit in Columbia, Mo, as it gives the students a place to get everything, from motor oil to pears to underwear to the new Madden game to Fruit Loops to a new basketball to the Evanescance CD. Also, beer.
So, why does the demise of the independent record store seem so scary to me?
***
One of my biggest fears in life is to stop having any semblance of connection to underground culture. I never want to be caught not knowing who the bands are when they come to the local indie clubs. I may not be a fan of the records (For example, I can entirely do without the Go! Team), but I want to at least have a working knowledge of the bands. Similarly, that I know who Jim Jarmusch is, despite not being a huge fan of his movies, is important to me.
I don't want to be hit upside the head with an "out-of-nowhere" cultural thing. That's part of being a journalist ( William Powers explains as such in National Journal), but it's also being a music snob/college radio person/etc. There's an air of pretentiousness that's undeniable to it, and that's something I'm totally comfortable with.
Which brings me to 7"s. I have a decent collection of 7"s and I even recently scored two interesting finds (The Half-handed Cloud/Sufjan Stevens split and the famously out-of-print Coctails' "Songs for Children," which includes their wonderful version of "Frere Jacques").
Maybe it's just my place in life (outside any sense of interesting rock snob culture, working in a yuppie community for a family-centric community newspaper), but it seems like 7"s have gone the way of the dinosaur. My two and a half years of being PD at KCOU invovled a lot of writing and re-editing our music training manual, and writing the "R's" section with a yearly increase of the explanation of 7"s. By my senior year, it just seemed that most people didn't know what a 7" was.
Personally, I used to peruse the 7"s rack at Dr. Wax, an awesome record store near where I grew up (and one I go to whenever I visit Chicago). At the time, 7"s were a great way for fanboys to get the rare and unreleased stuff. I spent many an hour at Wax and on eBay looking for the original Tortoise/Stereolab "Vaus" 7", Elliott Smith's "Ballad of Big Nothing" 7" (complete with über-rare "Division Day" as the b-side) and the Dianogah "Hannibal" single.
They were also a great introduction to new music. The vinyl singles were a quick, easy way to get acquainted with an unfmailiar band. After meting my friend Fern (who is/was a huge Braid fan), I then went to Wax and bought "Fire Makes the House Grow" for $1.99.
Kinda like an Mp3.
***
It goes without saying that Napster changed everything. In addition to inciting about a million debates in my life about the nature of cultural ownership, it brought the digital information reproduction problems into the open. While a lot of people expected something like the Google Scholar thing to be the tipping point (you know, not having to pay for "The Inferno" or any of the works of Shakespeare), when the nature of digital ownership ended up revolving around music (and porn, I guess).
Moreover, it brought about the Mp3. The music format is now the aggressive/up-and-coming way for people to get (notice I didn't specify the verb "buy") music. Despite the format's relatively (in comparison to CDs) low sound quality, the ease of getting music through legal (like Rhapsody and the iTunes store) and illegal (LimeWire, the original Napster, etc.) venues made Mp3s an alternative to CDs for the music consumer.
Just like vinyl used to be.
***
I have a friend who does not claim to be much of a music fan.I can vouch that she's not a big music fan, but one intersting thing about her is her reliance on vinyl as her music source. Coming from a family of musicians (her father is a music professor/scholar and her uncle plays piano quite well), she's inherited a great deal of jazz records and has bought just as many. Her vinyl collection, while not massive, is very interesting and varied, spanning Tribe Called Quest, Al Bloomfeld and Monk. She is anything but indie rock (in fact, she finds indie rock to be largely pretentious and dissonant [good example: the only 'indie' band she has any interest in is the Postal Service, who just happen to be the poppiest of the indie bands]).
Contrast that with another friend of mine. He is really into undergroud rock; he likes a lot of metal and electronica. He has a huge CD/Mp3 collection and owns no record player. He bought a CD from Insound (or some similar online record store) and received an exclusive 7" with it. He has nothing to play it on.
So, it's not like vinyl is specifically an indie/underground rock thing. Many claim that lot of old records sound better on vinyl (I mean, we all know Steve Albini's thoughts on vinyl). For years, vinyl had its place.
Just like independent record stores.
***
The sociological implications of the digital information age (as opposed to the digital age) are striking. As society gets more and more global, we as Americans seem to have moved within ourselves just as much. The sense of communal anything seems to have disappeared as more and more Americans jump into SUVs and ride to the exurbs in search of a big house with a big refridgerator, a grand green lawn and a big TV.
We all live in our own homes, which double as our own castles, our own islands. I don't know my neighbors at all and I've lived in the same apartment for more than two years (although, in my own defense, a language barrier exists [on the other hand, it wouldn't hurt me to say hello to my neighbors when I walk by]).
I hate to drive and take the Metro nearly everywhere other than work and the grocery store. Whenever I go downtown, I take the Metro; a 60-some seated tube that seats many other humans stuck in the same situation (trying to travel a crowded, pompous city). We come back from bars, movies, galleries, shopping, touristy stuff. We're all going out to the suburbs from the city (or going into the city from the suburbs or traveling around the city). Hell, I've seen people I stood near at a show on the train after the show.
I don't talk to any of them. I've got an iPod and a cellphone with 'Bowling' on it. I listen to my music and bowl away. The headphones suggest a certain "get away from me" vibe.
***
The main rack at CDepot in College Park, Md. is the hip hop rap, so I understand the state that hip hop drives the bus that is independent record stores. Rap is one of the dominant genres in music today and certainly is the best-selling. Any check of the iTunes top 10 tracks list or the Billboard lists would tell you that.
I'm not going to fool myself into thinking that hip hop isn’t the most important music genre. It drives the bus from the suburbs (Lil’ Jon)to the country (Bubba Sparxx) to the inner city (most of hip hop). I listen to a lot of hip hop.
So, I don’t blame the indie record stores for specializing in hip hop; It is the genre that’ll make the most money. It’s just sad when they don’t carry any of the indie records I want and I have to revert to insound, iTunes and eMusic.
***
Dr. Wax no longer has a 7" box to peruse. The store has lost a lot of business to iTunes, Circuit City and a recently-opened Target. I still go there whenever I'm in the Chicago area to look around the CD racks; I check to see if I missed any new Kadane-related project or some new noodling that Geoff Farina has decided to put to tape.
If not, it was always fun to chat a bit with Jason and Kyle and the other people who worked there that I knew somewhat, but not enough to actually know. A question about a Tortoise show or a Rainer Maria CD was always met with some semblance of an answer. While not a huge communal thing (remember, I'm only 24 and an introvert), it was nice to be able to chat up music a bit.
I don't think you get that at the Target music department. You certainly don't get it at Wal-Mart, where they won't even stock something that says "Motherfucker" in it.
***
A good example of the inroads Mp3s have made into the indie rock snob market would be Ben Gibbard-related stuff. While not the definition of an indie/underground band, Death Cab for Cutie/Postal Service are popular indie bands; They've bands that a lot of fucking people like. DCFC used to be on Barsuk, a very small label, while the Postal Service is on Sub Pop (if not the king of the indies, certainly in the royal court).
Anyway, while still a DCFC fanboy in college, I search high and low for three 7"s from the band. One was a split with Fiver, one was the single for "Wait" (a cover of a Secret Stars song) and the third was the "Army Corps of Architects" Sub Pop Singles Club single. I never got the "Army Corps" one, but was able to get the other two.
Now I can get them all on iTunes.
***
As evolution goes, the world turns. In the stead of talking with the erstwhile record-store employee, I've got message boards on a ton of places (myspace, etc.). In my own personal life, I have a few friends at work who introduce me to new music. In lieu of having a decent college radio station, I read Pitchfork.com nearly daily and get the gist of the underground from the site. I listen to XMU.
It’s a changing world. Sometimes, it is kind of hard to deal with that.
***
I’ve gone on too long and you’ve tired of me. The point is that my I got into Superchunk largely after a purchase of the Superchunk “Watery Hands” 7” many years ago (my sophomore year of high school, I believe). I already had “Here's Where the Strings Come In,” but barely listened to it. I saw the video for “Watery Hands” and wanted a copy of the song.
Remember, this was at the infancy of mp3s and when file sharing only existed on college campuses. So, the only way I was going to get a copy of the single song “Watery Hands” was to either call in a request to WNUR and tape the song from the radio or buy it on a 7” (or, I could’ve just bought the whole album). Because I thought 7”s to be “indie” in some way, I went to Wax, asked the guy for the 7” for the “song with the video that has the Mr. Show guy and Janeane Garofalo in it,” and picked it up. The indie record store and vinyl were the two things that made that possible. That was something that happened a few times and was a sizeable part of my high school years.
That is why I lament the passing of the indie record store. |
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| "it's just that everyone's interest is stronger than mine" |
[Feb. 16th, 2006|10:18 pm] |
| [ | music |
| | Sexton Blake - "Rose Parade" | ] |
(Quick plug, I am now on MySpace.com, because I was just that bored. Mark Shelley is my only friend so far, so please add me or look for me or whatever it is you do on MySpace.com)
One of these days, I'm going to go through and write something about what I consider to be my three favorite songs. Today is not that day, but it it time to discuss one of those responsible for one of those songs.
I imagine Elliott Smith would've sold a lot more records had he been properly marketed. Considering that he worked with KRS (a big indie, but still an indie) for his two major albums and a lackluster PR staff at Dreamworks (I used to work with them. They sucked), I think it speaks volumes that he's had the impact he has.
(It also didn't help that he struggled with addiction throughout his whole life and that -- let's be frank here -- was not an attractive man. Give him looks like that doof from Dashboard Confessional, and Smith sells millions of records.)
Nevertheless, Smith is, in some ways, considered quite the deity among indie rockers. I have yet to meet a woman of that bent who isn't, at least, a little into Smith. His voice is amazing and women's reaction to his music reinforces, unfortunately, a lot of stereotypes we have about women in our society (they want a man who is troubled, so they can "fix" him).
In my opinion, "Either/Or" is a flawless album, one constructed to be majestically personal and sparkingly mundane (not mundane in a boring sense, but mundane in an everyday sense). In the same way that "Spiderland" is the soundtrack to a great noir detective movie, "Either/Or" is the soundtrack to everything else. It's the soundtrack to real life.
But, I'm not writing about Elliott Smith'sversion of "Rose Parade," one of his best-written songs. Emblematic of "Either/Or," it's a simple, yet finely crafted piece about a day in the life of a Portlander. And like everything he wrote, it's beautifully sad (the melancholy seeps through the line "I'd say it's a sight that's quite worth seeing/it's just that everyone's interest is stronger than mine").
I'm writing about the Elliott Smith tribute record, specifically Sexton Blake's version of "Rose Parade." I can sum it up in seven words: As good as the original. But different.
One of the things I always had trouble with was that Smith never really had a good producer to work with. Jon Brion is great, but I've thing there's a lot more melody in those songs than ever came out of a record (the only examples of perfect production of an Elliott Smith song, in my opinion, are "Miss Misery" and "Happiness"). In lieu of actually accenting the songs, all of the major-label stuff is simply production for the sake of production. "Waltz #2" sounds like something from a ridiculous Billy Joel record and "Baby Britain" has a honky-tonk piano. Why?
(Again, I still think he's the best songwriter of the last however many years. The songs always remain and make up for the production to be great records. It's kind of like the White Album. The White Album has too many songs, but it's still the White Album. Elliott Smith's records are overproduced, but they're still great fucking records)
But, it's the KRS records that confuse me. On one hand, the intimacy is what makes Smith what he is. (I imagine the reason chicks like him so much is because those accoustic/voice numbers he did always seemed like he was singing directly to you, the listener.) Barely singing about a whisper, Smith barely used any instrumentation other than just a guitar and a voice. It sounds strained a lot of the time, but part of the draw is that lo-fi-ness of it. Again, there is a vulnerability there that is very attractive.
But, sometimes, there is something missing.
The only time I ever saw Elliott Smith live, he played "Needle in the Hay" as a sped-up rocker. Instead of a single accoustic guitar, his band added electric guitar, bass and drums. His voice lost a bit of the sadness that permeates that record and gained a bit of an edge, as though he was singing about, say, heroin addiction. Considering that's what the song is about, it always seemed more apt.
(I'm sure there are versions of this song, but they're probably some ass-bad concert bootleg record that'll make me want to burn my speakers, so I haven't heard it yet)
The version of "Needle in the Hay" is like that. Portlander and all-around hasbeen Eric Matthews does a rocked out version of the classic song and it doesn't totally suck. Yes, Matthews' voice sounds like he's trying to imitate Smith while still rocking out (not possible) and, yes, the ridiculous keyboard melody thing sounds idiotic. Still, it's nice to hear "Needle" in a venue that gives some edge to a song (I hate to harp on this point) about heroin addiction.
Back to the song I'd actually like to write about: Sexton Blake's cover of "Rose Parade." I love the songwriting on it and I still find the original to be one of my favorite songs of all time.
But, in Sexton Blake's (no, I don't know who he is, either) version, the bells and full band accent the excellent melody like Smith's version never did. The Sexton Blake version lacks Smith's vocal, but whoever Sexton Blake is, he does a reasonable facisimile of Smith's voice.
More importantly, the loud/soft dynamic that is so effective at evoking movement in a song rules here, with the reverting back to guitar/voice on the verses, emulating Smith's original. It's a novel move and really helps the song.
One of things the Pitchfork review points out that I agree with is that no one is going to be happy with the tribute record:
One has to assume that the target demo for an Elliott Smith tribute is Elliott Smith's fanbase, which contains a significant contingent aligned around the belief that any attempt to cover the perfection of an Elliott Smith song is to utterly ruin it.
I suspect that is true, on some level, and it's sad. There are some great songs on this tribute record, starting with Sexton Blake's cover of "Rose Parade." It does the original justice and more. |
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| "You can hide 'neath your covers/And study your pain/Make crosses from your lovers/Throw roses in th |
[Jan. 29th, 2006|03:48 pm] |
| [ | music |
| | Tortoise & Bonnie "Prince" Billy - "Thunder Road" | ] |
As anyone reading this knows, I love Tortoise. They're probably my favorite band and I buy just about anything they put out.
While I like Will Oldham, I have never been a huge, overwhelming fanboy for his music. I have always tended to enjoy Jason Molina's versions of that stuff. On the softer stuff, I tend to find Oldham's voice a little grating. I've "Lost Blues" and "Master and Everyone" and I feel like that is quite enough Will Oldham for me.
So, upon getting the Oldham/Tortoise collaboration, I had some level of trepidation. Luckily, I love cover songs, specifically covers of songs I don't care for in the first place (perfect examples being GodHeadSilo's version of "In the Air Tonight" and Macha/Bedhead's cover of "Believe").
So, naturally, my favorite song on "The Brave and the Bold" is the Springsteen cover.
I don't like Springsteen at all. I think his mainstream stuff is largely populist crap and his more heralded-by-the-underground stuff is spotty and irritating. In an attempt to try and be Dylan by painting portraits of a desolate West, I find Springsteen to be annoying.
(And don't get me started on his post-9/11 mumbo jumbo. How that is different from Lee Greenwood is beyond me.)
So, I don't like Springsteen's version of "Thunder Road." But, Tortoise's start-and-stop rhytymns work for the song in a way smoothness probably wouldn't. In the place of stomping piano and normal instrumentation, Tortoise constructs a melody line that's memorable, yet desperate. Using a keyboard and guitar combo, the band strikes you upside the head with this constructed melody. It's the best part of the record.
While Springsteen's version relies on his hardened wannabe countryish vocals, this version doesn't fuck around with hope. Oldham, as is his way, sounds beaten and defeated when he sings "We can hide beneath your cover, study your pain." His voice cracks and he sounds more hurt than optimistic as he harmonizes the lines "Except roll down the window/And let the wind blow/Back your hair/Well the night's busting open/These two lanes will take us anywhere." With Springsteen, those lyrics sound like commands, with Oldham, they are pleas for something (forgiveness, maybe).
In the place of a road trip song, Oldham makes "Thunder Road" into an apology of sorts, a brooding version of the old country standard of "drivin' and cryin'." But, again, instead of being a standard cover, Tortoise rips up the forumla and uses their mastery of rhytymn and creates something new. It's exceptional.
The album -- despite the great concept -- isn't anything spectacular, but it does have its highlights. The Lungfish cover is cool, as is the Nascimento track. I love their version of "Daniel," a spectacular Elton John song in the first place.
But, "Thunder Road"is by far the highlight of the record. |
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| "I know I'm outside of your window with my radio." |
[Jan. 14th, 2006|03:20 pm] |
| [ | music |
| | Hawthorne Heights- "Nikki FM" | ] |
I don't care for "Say Anything" for the same reason as Chuck Klosterman (essentially, that Cusack ruined it for the rest of us by portraying the punk rock girls' ideal man) and I think it has, in some ways, become *the* romantic movie for any non vanilla-ers. In the same way "Sleepless in Seattle" ruined it for regular dudes who like Harry Connick Jr., "Say Anything" ruined it for punk rockers who like Peter Gabriel.
A similar "raising of the bar" happened to the junior class of New Trier High School. A very close friend of mine (and my freshman roomate in college) Lo showed up to this girl Katie's early-bird class (early-bird classes were science classes students could take at 7 a.m. to get them out of the way and have more free periods during the day), wearing a tuxedo, with a single rose in tow, and asked her to the prom.
I had a girlfriend at the time and she (and probably every other girl with a boyfriend in the junior class) said "So, what are you going to do to ask me to prom?" Annette and I had been going out, off and on, for a while at that point, so my move was just ask her over the phone or something. Upon her asking me what I was going to do, I had to regroup.
I wore a turtle neck and a sportcoat and brought her a bouquet. She appreciated the thought, but pointed out (rightfully) that I looked like a damn fool.
So, what I'm saying is fuck Lloyd Dobler. Fuck that guy.
Nevertheless, the idea of unabashed sincerity (in the ways of romance, at least, as I haven't seen any Taking Back Sunday anti-war songs) is one of the hallmarks of emo and Klosterman has connected the mid-90s version of the genre to the movie. I'm on the bus for that comparison, actually. It makes more sense to me than the one floated by a colleague in college who said all emo is base don the first Weezer album.
I like emo, especially the second wave of it (the mid-90s version). I was in high school when emo was huge, though I only listened to Promise Ring and SDRE, but I got much more into it when the genre was winding down my freshman year of college. I loved the midwestern stuff like Get Up Kids, Smoking Popes, Promise Ring (who I've seen five times, the most of any band, tied with GBV and Songs:Ohia), Braid and Elliott. As a melodramatic, brooding skinny guy from the Midwest, I could identify with the whining melodramatic fools singing about unrequited love. I mean, my favorite artist during that period remains Elliott Smith and it's not a coincidence that a recent Smith tribute CD will have a lot of newest wave of emo bands on it. In a lot of ways the newest emo bands are just rying to be Elliott Smith with harder guitars.
But the point is this: I like emo. I like the disjointed guitars, I like the brooding singers and I like lyrics that sound like they're taken out of a 15-year-old's diary (I love the Postal Service). So, while the newest wave of emo/quasi-emo has become popular, it has been hard for me to keep my 'pretentious' card. It's hard to decry Fall Out Boy when you own two Get Up Kids albums.
Anyway, one of the more popular neo-emo/screamo bands now is Hawthorne Heights. Because I don't watch a whole lot of MTV (most of my TV watching is spent on sports, the History Channel, MSNBS and Comedy Central), I hadn't heard Hawthorne Heights much until I had flipped through the rock countdown one evening and stumbled upon the video for "Nikki FM."
I don't care much for the video (it looks too similar, stylistically, to "Donnie Darko"), but the song is relatively infectious. Like some of the SDRE material, the lyrics are sparse, but they work well with the disjointed guitars and rhythms (the lyrics are a little too literal for the SDRE comparison).
But, it's an interesting song. I like it. I'd be a hypocrite if I didn't. |
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| "Cause London is burning and I live by the river" |
[Jan. 8th, 2006|10:41 pm] |
| [ | music |
| | The Clash - "London Calling" | ] |
(First, a small announcement: If you are actually interested in the banalities of my life, I have another blog over at Blogspot in which there is no cover of “writing about songs.” It’s a certifiable blog. Now, back to our regularly scheduled ramblings loosely based in music writing…)
What is the nature of maturity? What are the levels of maturity? Does it matter?
A lot of the time, I end up trying to separate myself from my immaturity and try to act like I’m searching for deeper meanings in things. I’m a pretty melancholy guy (really, it’s not an act), but – despite what some of my coworkers and friends believe – I don’t just go home and contemplate offing myself or cry myself to sleep.
But, what of maturity?
I love the movie “Clerks.” In fact I recently bought the tenth anniversary DVD set. I also love “Jackass.” I have the “Jackass” DVD box set, as well.
Is “Clerks.”more immature than “Jackass?” One is pure slapstick humor of the lowest order, largely based in breaching societal codes concerning male sexuality while the humor of the other looms largely at the tipping point between auteur-ish seriousness and frat-guy brash machismo.
“Jackass” is some of the most straightforward humor around. My favorite sketch they’ve ever done is simply the comedy=tragedy happening to someone else equation (It’s called “The Cup Test” and it’s simply Knoxville getting hit in the nuts – while wearing a cup – by varying things. He gets kicked, they hit his cup with a sledge, etc.). At its funniest, “Jackass” is simply people getting creamed and my laughter at the notion that it’s not me.
A lot of it, as well, is based in the idea that naked men are funny. Chris Pontius’ sketches are mostly these bits and they’re nearly always funny. A man stripping down to a g-string and dancing is not sexy at all (whereas, a woman doing the same…). It’s not as though Pontius is particularly dumpy (sure, he’s not cut, but he’s not fat by any means), because a comparatively shaped woman (you know, not rail thin, but somewhat toned) doing the same would be considered sexy by 80% of the men in the Western World.
“Clerks.” is different, in that it’s considered more mature because of the loftiness of the movie’s original theme (the varying bits were originally supposed to be the nine circles of hell from “The Inferno,” hence the main character’s name: Dante), but the humor is all blue. The snowball scene, the 37 bit and just about all of Jay’s lines are all humorous because people don’t say that sort of thing in a movie.
But, it is more mature to laugh at a dick joke in a black and white indie film than it is in am MTV original series? It is less lowbrow to watch a man stick a car up his ass in a sketch movie than it is to laugh at a terrorist organization called “C.L.I.T.” in a more conventional movie directed by a Sundance-award winner?
***
I guess my sense of maturity entitlement comes from my lack of love for most punk rock. I don’t care for much punk rock, save the Clash. A lot of people have been comparing “American Idiot” to a favorite album of mine, “London Calling,” and I think that comparison is lazy. Yes, they are both nominally punk records (in that they’d be in the “punk” section of your local record store), but to compare “American Idiot” to “London Calling” is ridiculous.
I adore the Clash, mostly because no band has come close to their mix of politics, rhythm and melody since. The Clash are the thinking man’s punk rock, if only for their genre-bending love of reggae.
“American Idiot” is a great examination of American politics by way of song… if you’re 13 years old. The world is much more complex than the title track (in which he sings of being hoodwinked by “the media,” which is the same media that trumped “American Idiot” as one of the best records of the year) or the somber “Blvd. Of Broken Dreams.”
That’s not to say the Clash are the do-all and end-all of political punk, but at least they made political punk rock interesting. Sandinista! Is a cool record and, of course, “Rock the Casbah” is one of the better political songs ever recorded.
In the same way that Nirvana made punk rock angst-filled and introspective, the Clash made thinking man’s punk. The Sex Pistols attacked their record company and (kind of) the queen, the Clash attacked the racist establishment, the crime-filled streets and the recording industry system.
Green Day, well, they’re like every other punk band. They’re angry and they’re young and they’re white. Hooray. Good for you.
Just don’t claim to be the next Clash. |
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| "And all the while the good lord smiled, and looked the other way." |
[Dec. 25th, 2005|01:25 pm] |
| [ | music |
| | Pedro the Lion- "Bad Things to Such Good People" | ] |
I love this time of year.
It’s ironic, of course, because I don’t care for Christmas much (While I was raised in an Interfaith home, I don’t consider myself Christian by any stretch), Chanukah is pretty boring for me and I am not one of those “get destroyed on New Year’s Eve” guys (in reality, I think NYE is – like birthdays – simply an idiotic celebration of “we didn’t die” for one more year. Hooray for us!). I don’t get much in gifts (just money from my parents) and I don’t give much, either. I don’t celebrate Christmas (again, being Jewish, I spend it going to movies and eating Chinese food) and I despise Christmas music. “Jingle Bell Rock” jingle bell sucks.
What makes me love this season? The History Channel. I love the Biblical shit they show during this time of year. “History of God,” “Christmas Unwrapped” and “Footsteps of Jesus” are all shows I end up watching every December.
Again, I don’t believe in the divinity of Jesus, so the historical perspective of those shows is interesting to me. After all, the bible, at its heart, is a book far too many people take far too literally.
***
What fascinates me most are the real events of the most important – within a Western context – people in history. Millions of people base their lives around these people and we know little about what exactly happened to them. Not just Jesus Christ, either. WE know so very little about Muhammad, Moses or any other ancient religious figures; these people existed more than 2,000 years ago.
I know I shouldn’t be, but I’m always surprised by the lack of knowledge a lot of Christians have about Christ’s death. For one, the common thought –perpetuated by a whole fucking lot of renaissance art – is that Christ was somehow special in his crucifixion. He’s always portrayed singularly on the cross, among no other victims of crucifixion, as though the Romans set to humiliate him, or they went out of their way to kill Christ in the worst possible way. In reality, he was likely in a row of crosses (or a haphazard grove of crucifixes); one among many. Think “Life of Brian,” not Raphael or a Mel Gibson movie.
Crucifixion was to first-century Romans as the electric chair was to 20th-century Americans. Christ was,
most likely, one of many being crucified that particular day.
Similarly, the portrayal of Christ in, well, just about every piece of Western art has him as a relatively fair-skinned European-looking man with light brown hair (he is sometimes blond). This is patently ridiculous.
With all due respect to the Westerners who worship him, Christ was born and lived in the Middle East to Middle Eastern parents (or, if you’re a believe, a Middle Eastern woman). He would have likely had dark skin and most likely looked something like modern-day Palestinians or Jordanians. That is to say, he probably wouldn’t have looked too dissimilar to what many Americans picture how Muslims look. How ironic.
(Of course, there are two possibilities that would have Christ as a European-looking man. The first is that I’m wrong (and defies all historical and scientific thought) and states the God can do whatever the fuck he wants, so if he wants a Middle Eastern dude to look like a WASP, God can do that. He’s magic, after all. The second theory, which is largely considered heretical due to the tradition of the virgin birth, is that Mary had, indeed, had sex and it was with a Roman. In the same way Americans are occupying Iraq today, the Romans occupied first-century Judea, so there were likely lots of big, strong, Roman men around.)
When you take this stuff on faith, details like that (whether Christ looked European or not) doesn’t really matter. Michelangelo’s Pietà, depicts
Mary as a very young-looking woman as she holds a dying Christ. Clearly this is a ludicrous depiction, as one’s mother is unlike to look so young. A man of faith, however, Michelangelo explained it as such:
Do you not know that chaste women stay fresh much more than those who are not chaste? How much more in the case of the Virgin, who had never experienced the least lascivious desire that might change her body?
It’s not to say that Christianity is, in and of itself, any sillier than any other religion. It’s not. The idea of Christ being European is no more ludicrous than Muhammad talking to angels or a flaming bush talking to Moses. In fact, this time of the year provides for a ridiculous amount of falsities about Chanukah. Forget about the idiotic idea that one day’s worth of oil can burn for eight days, the whole story of Jews v. Greeks is just a xenophobic attempt to make secular Jews feel better (the whole story is really a civil war epic about religious Jews v. non-religious Jews.
All religions make up all kinds of crazy thing to make people buy into the story. I am of the idea that it’s all allegory to try and make people more ethical. The story of Moses and the exodus is basically a long-ass way to say, “Hey, slavery is bad.” The story of the Macabees is one that projects hope and the will to fight for what you believe in.
There’s nothing really wrong with that. These stories, in some way, illuminate ways to try and make life easier on one another and most have excellent messages to carry with you. Don’t hurt people. Loyalty is good. Be a good person.
***
Considering how uncomfortable religion makes me, I probably shouldn’t enjoy the recent rash of Christian indie rock as much as I do. The first real song I wrote about on here was an Iron & Wine (a man who has sung of his religious convictions many a time) track, and I also enjoy Sufjan Stevens’ work.
However, my favorite band (largely due to my adolescent tastes) with religious overtones is Pedro the Lion. PTL is one of the few bands that remain from my Freshman-year dabbling in the ways of emo-rock. Braid, onelinedrawing and Promise Ring have disbanded (although Promise Ring recently played a reunion show), and Paris, Texas, and American Football have fallen off the map.
In the same way that Stevens and Sam Beam (of I&W) are classic BoBo favorites, David Bazan (the main guy in PTL) is the kind of Christian that is considered “ok” by the indie rock opinion makers (although, it should be said, less so than Stevens and Beam because Bazan’s music isn’t nearly as good). He’s liberal, he’s kind of ugly (he’s not threateningly handsome like Ralph Reed) and he’s very soft-spoken. The last thing David Bazan does is preach to you, either through his music or in interviews and such. He simply sings about his views on God and never has any references to damnation, hell or proselytizing.
(In fact, I went to a PTL show last year (bad times, by the way, as I was the oldest at the show, by far. By five years. At 24.), Bazan held a Q&A session before the final song and someone asked him what he thought of God. “What I feel about God is not something I want to talk to you guys about” was his response, which I found strange.)
Nevertheless, he does sing about Christ, God and what Bazan considers to be their relationship to him. One of my favorite PTL songs, “Bad Things to Such Good People” is a good example of this. A song about the doubts one has about the divine, Bazan sings of a god that has largely forsaken a man. The man “crying out to Jesus, ‘but lord I’ve always done what’s right.’”
But God does nothing.
It’s an interesting way to think about this stuff, as I’m not used to looking at ‘God’ through the eyes of a believer, especially a doubting one. I’m not really sure what it means, but, then again, I’m not much in the way of religiosity.
(Also, “Winners Never Quit” is a loosely assembled rock opera about politics and power, but I’m not sure exactly how “Bad Things” fits into it. Presumably, it’s the powerful trying to receive forgiveness for the power grab that he has committed. Again, I don’t find it to be a particularly straightforward narrative, so I could be totally wrong.)
Musically, it’s one of my favorite PTL songs, as it takes the folksy “It’s Hard to Find a Friend”-type acoustic guitar and speeds it up. (It is also one of my favorite songs to use a capo.)
Is it strange for someone so non-religious to enjoy such religious music? I’d say no, as some of the greatest art (again, back to Michelangelo’s Pietá) is religious art, be it about Christ, Roman gods or Hindu gods. To enjoy s piece of art isn’t to believe in the religion it portrays, but to rather admire its beauty for what it is: art.
Just like people should do with a certain very popular book. |
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| "Wish there was something real, wish there was something true" |
[Dec. 18th, 2005|11:41 am] |
| [ | music |
| | Nine Inch Nails- "Wish" | ] |
Without getting into my views on guilty pleasures (long story short: I don’t believe people should have them. Liking something is nothing to be ashamed of, even if it’s “The Simple Life” or Fall Out Boy), the band I would consider the closest to one is Nine Inch Nails. I love most every Nine Inch Nails single.
I’ve recently got into a lot more metalish stuff (Isis, Pelican, Mastodon, etc.) and I’ve always been a fan of harder music. I like dropped-d tuning and hard riffs and such. And Trent Reznor has always been able to provide that. Other than the peppiness of “Happiness in Slavery” and the slow burn of “Hurt,” The NIN singles send to be pretty heavy and/or fast.
The problems with NIN lie, rather, in Reznor’s lyrics. Where Mastodon’s last record was an homage to Melville and Isis’ to Foucault, Most of Reznor’s lyrics sound very adolescent. In the same way I find Ben Gibbard’s lyrics ridiculous for an adult to enjoy, I find that most of Reznor’s sound something akin to the poetry many of us wrote in the ninth grade with a crappy rhyming dictionary (“Head like a hole/black as your soul/I’d rather die/Than give you control” is the great example of this. The song is wonderfully hard and driving, but I feel like a damned fool in my car screaming (in my best high school voice) “Bow down before the one you serve/you're going to get what you deserve.” It’s a ridiculous lyric.
“Wish” is similar. One of my favorite NIN songs (“Closer” being the source of the least amount of embarrassment), Like the best Ministry tracks, “Wish” is fast and hard with a disco-ish beat that works well in my suburban mind. The loud/soft dynamic worked great during the age of grunge and remains compelling. However, like other NIN songs, the lyrics are juvenile.
“This is the first day of my last days/Built it up now, take it apart climbed up real high now fall down real far.”
That’s totally ridiculous. It’s just pure angst without the poetry of Nirvana or Soundgarden. Again, it sounds like the kind of thing 15-year-old boys write in study hall.
It’s the closest thing I have to a guilty pleasure. I can admit liking Britney Spears or Ashlee Simpson; I’m comfortable admitting I enjoy mindless pop music. It’s the stuff that purports to be serious and heartfelt, lyrical, that I have such trouble admitting I like. |
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| A brief detour from writing about songs (Thanks, Courtney!) |
[Dec. 11th, 2005|11:18 pm] |
The following is stolen from ![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) la_donna_velata.
Open iTunes/iPod or Windows Media Player to answer the following:
Go to your library.
Answer, no matter how embarrasing it is.
( Neat ) |
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| "Don't tie me to words that you don't mean" |
[Dec. 4th, 2005|05:13 pm] |
| [ | music |
| | Neil Diamond- "Oh Mary" | ] |
Upon reflection, I find that record producers aren't particularly far from video directors. Most people don't know who Chris Cunningham, Michel Gondry or Mark Romanek are (unless you mention that Gondry did "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" and Romanek did "One Hour Photo), but each has enough of a signature style that their fans are devoted to them. Certainly, Spike Jonze is an innovative guy, and people probably know his work. Personally, as a huge Mark Romanek fan, it's easy to see the similarities of "Hurt," "Closer" and "99 Problems."
I would say producers do the same thing. Most people my age aren't particularly familiar with Phil Spector (save for maybe his trial and the insane hair he sported during the trial). But, to say that there isn't a striking similarity between Spector's Wall of Sound, early-'60s stuff and "All Things Must Pass."
With that said, I bought "12 Songs," Neil Diamond's latest, largely because Rick Rubin produced it. It goes without saying that Rubin is a legend because of his work during the '80s with Run DMC, the Beastie Boys and LL Cool J, but many of us know him from his work resurrecting Johnny Cash's career toward the end of Cash's life. The "American Recordings" series humanized Cash and brought Cash's voice to a place largely undiscovered by mainstream audiences.
That was the one of the expectations of "12 Songs." On its face, it's not a particularly good match. After all, Neil Diamond is known by most now as a very boisterous, excitable singer. Overdone classics like "Sweet Caroline," "America" and "I'm a Believer" are almost synonymous with Diamond, so a lot of people said that Rubin's stripped-down production might not work as well with Diamond.
Those people are wrong. Yes, the melodrama of "Sweet Caroline" is wonderful, but some of Diamond's best work are the songs he sings that call for sincerity and calm. Songs like "I am, I said" and my favorite Diamond track, "Girl, You'll be a Woman Soon." Sure, he's melodramatic, but that's part of Neil Diamond. Without it, and he's just another lounge singer.
Rubin's production on "12 Songs" emphasizes Diamond's talents that show on those types of tracks. On "Hell Yeah," he enunciates every word as though he's going through acting exercises. "Save me a Saturday Night" is excellently accented by bells, while the whole album features the acoustic guitar absent on far too many Diamond tracks.
"Oh, Mary" remains my favorite "12 Songs" track. A simple song (Diamond says the word "Oh" and "Mary" about a million times during the song), there is a striking level of mortality in his words. Like the Cash records, "12 Songs" really humanizes Diamond with lines like "I've been around and I know what happens/And I'm too old to pretend." Lines like that are all over the album.
I'm a Neil Diamond fan (after all, he was the "Jewish Elvis"), so I probably would've been interested in "12 Songs" without Rick Rubin. But Rubin made some difference. That's probably the nature of the record producer; They make some difference, but not much. After all, no Big Black fans bought "Razorblade Suitcase," right? |
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| 'How long 'til the music drowns you out/Don't put words up in my mouth' |
[Nov. 2nd, 2005|08:13 am] |
| [ | music |
| | Aahlee Simpson- 'Boyfriend' | ] |
I love Ashlee Simpson.
OK, let's get through the obvious caveats first. First, I understand she's essentially an artist manufactured by her overwhelmingly creepy father. I know that and actually feel pretty bad for her because of it (more on that in a minute.
Second, her prescence does not detract from my previous love of one Ms. Spears. In the same way I think Kelly Clarkson is sort of interesting, I find Ashlee Simpson to be interesting.
Third, there is something absolutely mesmorizing about getting into a person's life, even if it's a creepy-father situation. Like radio, Simpson's MTV show is/was a very 'inside baseball' view of a teenager experiencing fame. YEs, I understand it was throughoughly vetted through her father/manager. So, yes, I understand that we weren't getting the full story on the SNL stuff, the Orange Bowl and whatever other crap came along.
But, there is something a viewer sees in 'The Ashlee Simpson Show' that is intimate. Maybe it was the 'Real World'ish testimonials Ashlee did, maybe it was the Ryan Cabrera stuff. But, watching a teenager grow up makes you kind of feel paternal towards her. It's a triumph of marketing/PR that this intimacy develops, but -- at least for me -- the intimacy developed nonetheless.
Moby (I'm paraphrasing) compared the *NSync/Backstreet Boys to fine European furniture. You may not look at it and love it, but you have to respect the craftsmanship. There are choreographers, there are wardrobe people, there are Swedes writing the music and Swedes doing all the music (not the singing). There are producers fixing her voice and image people fixing her hairstyle. Many people had their hands all over it and it's shiny, easy-to-digest and pleasant.
Her first record was wonderfully inoffensive. 'La La' and 'Autobiography' were nice little pop-punk numbers that would've found themselves at home on an Avril Lavigne record, if not for the lack of angst (yes, I understand the idiotic pretentiousness of naming a record 'Autobiography' at age 18). Catchy, fun and rocking, it takes effort to dislike Ashlee Simpson's first record.
Which brings us to 'Boyfriend.' Where 'La La' was a pop-punk thing (as that was popular at the time of its release), 'Boyfriend' follows the trends in lockstep. A Nouveau New Wave guitar riff starts out not unlike the Franz Ferdinand/Killers/Hot Hot Heat/etc. crap that purports to actually have some meaning, while Ashlee's overproduced vocals lilt around the overproduced music.
Lyrically, the succinct, easy-to-understand narrative goes as such:
Unnamed girl is jealous of Ashlee because girl discovered that girl's boyfriend (also unnamed) called Ashlee. Ashlee tells the girl she's 'really got it wrong' and that Ashlee is 'going home alone' tonight. Ashlee explains that she may be a big star, but she doesn't big-time jealous girls' boyfriends just because she's 'Hollywood.'
Yes, it's simplistic. Yes, it's repetitive. Yes, it uses the all-too-tired 'being a star sucks' ("Hollywood sucks you in/ But it won't spit me out" is one of the lines). That doesn't mean it's not a lot of fun.
Unlike the awful dissonance of Clap Your Hands Say Yeah or the VH1-ed out Killers, 'Boyfriend' is like candy. It may not be good for you and you're probably not going to get a great deal of substance from it. It's late to the neo New Wave party, but like all pop (crunk and 'Yeah!', rap and 'Rapture', etc.) it takes a music form and makes it easy to digest.
I'm not finding deeper, philosophical meaning in her lyrics. I'm enjoying it for what it is: pop junk. It's not a guilty pleasure (I don't believe in guilty pleasures), but it's not the sort of thing I listen to and take to heart.
But that doesn't mean it's not fun and delicious. Like candy.
I haven't heard the whole album, so I can't say whether or not it's as ridiculous as the Slate review says it is, I have to say that 'Boyfriend' is a wonderfully fun record.
As I've written before, if you think Belle and Sebastian is great pop music, you're an asshole. Belle and Sebastian is decent, but it's at times dissonant and obnoxious (and lyrically is totally based on easy juxtaposition), but real pop music must appeal to more than just sweater/Chuck Taylor-wearing college kids. Ashlee Simpson is that and 'Boyfriend' delivers. |
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| "Once I wanted to be the greatest..." |
[Oct. 14th, 2005|12:31 pm] |
| [ | music |
| | Cat Power- 'The Greatest' | ] |
As a Yom Kippur treat to myself, I decided to take in Cat Power Thursday evening at the Ottobar up in Baltimore.
This was the second time I've seen Chan Marshall perform; the first being in St. Louis while still in college. She was touring for the 'You Are Free' album, which is one of my definite 'desert island' albums (the others being 'Either/Or,' 'Paranoid,' 'Tortoise,' Meat Puppets II,' 'Abbey Road' and 'Blue Screen Life,' if you care) and it was a total disaster. She couldn't get through a full song without one or more of the following:
-- yelling at the crowd
-- yelling at her band (she had a backing band)
-- breaking up in laughter and thus, stopping the song
-- running offstage (I swear she did this twice)
She stopped in the middle of a song and started into what sounded like 'Sweet Home Alabama' once and seemed to be either totally insane or someone who actually hates performing live (or maybe a combination). I imagine her backing band was probably used to it, but the crowd wasn't, and I was genuinely suprised that the crowd didn't start a Guns 'n Roses-style riot.
With that, a question comes up: Why the hell would anyone pay to see Cat Power if Chan Marshall is nuts? More importantly, Ross, why would you — someone who claims to not even enjoy live music that much — pay to see Cat Power?
That's a good question and one I can't answer without getting a little adolescent on you. Chan Marshall could read the phone book to me and I'd be smitten. I think she's got the most interesting and heart-wrenching voice in music. On top of that, her arrangements accent the sparseness of the songs in a way that just kills me. She's everything Bill Callahan (also known as (Smog)) wants to be: Sad, creepy and beautiful all at once.
So, yeah, I love Cat Power. Like I said, she could sing anything and make it seem that much more interesting. Case in point: 'The Covers Record.' That whole album is songs we've heard before, yet they sound that much better from her. 'Satisfaction' is a wonderful cock-rockish song by the Stones and a quiky tune by Devo (let's not talk about Britney's version). With Chan Marshall stripping the arrangement and singing it, it transcends the other versions. It's desperation, defined.
Also, she's got a new record coming out this winter. I knew this before I bought tickets, and hoped that she would play some new material.
Anyway, I didn't expect anything more civilized Thursday night, if only because I didn't know much of what was going to happen. All I knew was that it was an early show, so time constraints were tighter (Ottobar had a late show that night, so she had to be off by 9 p.m.). Upon enterting the club, I found out she had no opening act and that she also had no backing band. It was simply to be her, a piano and a guitar (a sweet Danelectrico, by the way). If she went beserk, so be it.
After talking to some Ottobar people, I found out she was to go on at 7:15 and had to be done by 8:45, as the late show's doors were at 9. Inevitably, she came on at 7:30, which was probably to be expected.
She started off with new material, including the album's title single, 'The Greatest' (more on that song in a minute). As you would expect from a solo show, the songs sounded incredibly raw, but, really, that's part of her draw. She played an especially haunting song that had lyrics about self-hatred that I found to be exceptional and am looking forward to hearing a real version of on the record.
The first non-new song she played was pretty telling. The opener from 'You are Free,' I Don't Blame You' is a song that simply states, 'I understand why you don't want to play your hits.'
And, for the most part, she didn't. Outside of three tracks from 'You are Free,' ('Good Woman,' 'Names' and 'I Don't Blame You') she only played new songs and covers and when she did, the arrangements were pretty unique. She did half of 'Hit the Road, Jack' that sounded interesting, if not wonderful and her final bridge to 'Satisfaction' (crooning 'We're all looking for sat-is-fac-tion,') was beautiful, if unexpected. When she did 'Names,' she totally omitted the chorus, as she did on 'I don't Blame You,' possibly because of a lack of a backup singer to do harmonies. As I mentioned, she could sing the phone book and I'd love it, and that was evident as she covered the Everly Brothers' 'Dream a Little Dream' to a stunned audience.
And, as is her way, she didn't exactly play to the crowd. Several times, she stopped in the middle of a song to try and find the right note, complain about the monitors or 'take a break to smile' (her actual words). She did play 'Moonshiner' right after a fan called for it twice, but that may have been coincidence, annoyance or both. Otherwise, she did stop songs several times to crack her knuckles or something similar. Luckily, she did this very little on the new songs, only really having trouble with the piano's tuning when she played 'The Greatest.'
Which brings me to the two versions of 'The Greatest.' I heard the albumer version last night after I got home from the show, so my first impressions of the song was the live version. It was just Chan and the piano and I found it to be nice, but a little tired. 'The Covers Record' and 'You are Free' feature a lot of Chan and guitar/piano songs, songs without much arrangement, and while haunting (again, she could sing the alphabet song and I'd be into it), some of the tracks lacked the arrangements (or even a drumbeat) found in her older songs ('Rockets,' 'Crossbones Style,' etc.). In fact, one of my favorite songs from 'You are Free' is the most heavily arranged ('He War').
The album version of 'The Greatest' is arranged beautifully. In addition to the drums and Chan's voice, the bass, harmonies and piano accent the song very well. In lieu of sounding sparse, the sound actually fills out and sounds produced. It's a wonderful song and it has me aniticipating the full album. |
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| "" (no lyrics) |
[Sep. 15th, 2005|09:50 pm] |
| [ | music |
| | The Dirty Three - "Hope" | ] |
The overriding theme of this journal appears to be that lyrics are stupid, as today, we're going to delve into my love of an instrumental group, The Dirty Three.
Like the Rachel's and (I guess) Rasputina, the Dirty Three are not a "rock" band by any definition. Some indie-ish instrumental bands are clearly rock bands (Pelican, The Mercury Program, etc.) and some are a combination of rock and something else (Tortoise being the premiere example of a band that has some rock tendencies, but truly defies classification [hence the term, "post-rock"]), but the Dirty Three have no rock tendencies. Being a strictly instrumental band (their next record is set to have Chan Marshall record the first vocals on a Dirty Three record), they are composed of a violin player, a guitarist and a drummer. They make beautiful, haunting music and a few of their songs are inner-circle, "Ross' Soul playlist"-level for me.
I was introduced to the Dirty Three by a fellow by the name of Mark Donohue, a friend of mine in high school. Mark (along with Andrew McNaughton, Ari Madoff, Chris Welcome and, in a distant way, Nirvana) is one of the main reasons I turned out to listen to the music today. And those who know me probably know that the music I listen to defines me more than anything. While I'm not particularly close to any of these people anymore, I owe them a great deal of gratitude, which I'd put in the "thank you" part of an album, except I'm not a musician. Maybe when my first collection of columns comes out, I can thank them. Until then, this'll have to do.
I was in a band with Mark, a fellow named Jim Buino (I hope I'm spelling his name correctly) and Andra Durham. Andra was, at the time, a real musician as she played viola in our school's orchestra, I think. I remember her being very good (at viola) and I had a feeling she was simply wasting a lot of time playing bass in our little poppy three-chord rock outfit (She was). Jim was a capable drummer, but as a former drummer, I always thought I could do better. I played rhytymn guitar on a modified (and always out-of-tune) Fender Squire Strat. I still have that guitar.
Anyway, I'll never forget carting my Crate amp, my cheap-o Strat and my dirty ass over to someone's house (I think it was Mark's) to play in the garage. It was close to Andra's birthday and Mark's present to her was "Horse Stories" by the Dirty Three. I'd never heard of them, but I was in my "I'll listen to anyone on Touch and Go records"-phase (I even have a Lee Harvey Oswald Band from that time. Ugh.). I liked them and wanted to hear more.
I remember Mark's thinking to be something along the lines of "Andra plays the viola, so we could do something like the Dirty Three." Mark was going to improvises on guitar while Andra was to improvise in the same key. I don't remember if Jim was playing, but I wasn't. I sat on the side and examined the "Horse Stories" booklet. I remember the booklet being strange and strangely similar to the "post-rock" bands I had just started listening to (mainly Tortoise and The Sea and Cake); simple photos with no lyrics or outlandish drawings. Just photos.
If I remember correctly, Andra wasn't particularly warm to Mark's idea and ended up arguing with him about it. While they yelled at one another, I remember being really interested in this strange band with the violin on T&G records.
**********************
Every Dirty Three record is pretty good, but each one has a knock-down, stunningly beautiful song. On "Whatever you love, you are," it's "I Really Should've Gone Out Last Night" and on "She Has No Strings, Apollo," it's "Long Way To Go With No Punch." My favorite Dirty Three song, however, is "Hope."
Hope, as a concept, is the most powerful thing we have. Hope gets you out of bed in the morning. "Hopeless" is about the worst thing you can be. Hope gives us blind faith in our religions, it gives us blind faith in our actions and it gives us the goals we reach for (if x happens, I'll get the promotion, etc.).
Hope and regret (More on that when I get to finally writing about "Forgetting,"another all-time favorites), I've found, are the two most interesting feeling introspective people can have. They are, I guess, polar opposites. Hope is a sunny day tomorrow, while regret is yesterday's rain. Regret is dwelling on the past, while hope is the ability to wish for a better tomorrow. Hope produces a lot of bad things: blind faith, yes men, and "itelligent design." Regret is probably as bad, as it's probably responsible fore more suicides than anything else.
Hope is "Good Day, Sunshine." Regret is "All Apologies." In terms more appropriate to me, hope is "Oh, Me" and regret is "Lost Cause." Hope is "Born Again," while regret is "Forgetting." I tend to go more with the regret songs than the hope songs.
(I realize I'm being overly ambitious and juvenile with my idiotic philosophical rambling, so I apologize from going from the "remember the band I was in during high school" to high-school-style notebook scribbles. Think of it this way: at least I'm not writing poetry.)
It's probably pretty presumptious to compare the song with that sort of thing, but "Hope" is a song that seems to convey hope and regret at once. The lilting violin that crescendos about 2/3 of the way in is among the most wonderful sounds I know. Like Chan Marshall's voice, Warren Ellis' violin strains to emote while producing beautiful music. It is self-aware while still uplifting and, yes, hopeful.
There's something very interesting about that. It's very easy to listen to the Dirty Three and get bored or get depressed. "Hope" doesn't do that. For one thing, it's one of the few songs of theirs that checks in at less than five minutes. But, moreover, that violin crescendo is what gives us hope. "Damnit," I think to myself, "If Ellis can get that thing to strain and strain and sound like that, what's to stop me from having some hope?" Cheesy, yes, but, on some level, true.
And that's part of the reason I love instrumental music. For all I know, they named the song "Hope" because someone had a girlfriend named "Hope." For all I know, they simply flipped through the dicitonary and blindly fell on H. I don't know. And I don't care. "Hope" is the sound of hope for me. |
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| “Straight line/Feel it burst liver and lung/long and strong/’til she spills her black blood.” |
[Sep. 5th, 2005|04:47 pm] |
| [ | music |
| | Mastodon- Iron Tusk | ] |
As I’ve mentioned before, I’m getting increasingly tired of love as a song topic. The prospect of another “love/above, apart/heart, etc.” rhyming scheme is not attractive for me at all.
One of the things that has spawned from my distaste for love songs is my reignited (about a year or so) love for gimmicky bands and concept albums. Before this came through in albums like “Tommy,” “Quadrophenia,” “The Wall” and “Animals” and bands like The Mummies.
One of the cool things about metal is the basic lack of an underground/mainstream dynamic. Nile and Mastodon are played right before more mainstream bands like Rob Zombie (actually, Mastodon is currently touring with Zombie) and Puddle of Mudd. Because none of the metal bands enjoy huge success (while the mainstream rock people do), there doesn’t seem to be the jealousy that remains among mainstream/indie rock stuff. As well, bands can do crazy gimmicky things and they're not lambasted for it. The metal audience seems to be more forgiving.
Nile is a band that sings only songs about Egypt during the pharaoh eras, and while they’re not a great band, I love their liner notes and I adore the concept of five Carolina guys singing about King Tut, the Nile harvest and pyramids. I love Isis’ “Panopticon,” a record entirely based on Michel Foucault’s “Surveiller et Punir,” a philosophical work on prisons. It’s one of my favorite records released since I moved here.
One of my favorite albums of this year, however, is “Leviathan,” by Mastodon. Getting past the really metal-y stuff (having a video with people being suspended by their skin, a lead singer with crazy poofy hair, etc.), “Leviathan” is a wonderful concept record. Based loosely on “Moby Dick,” it’s one of the best things I’ve heard this year.
Part of the reason I don’t like love songs is the idiotic lyrics. Death Cab for Cutie’s new album has lines like “You’ll be loved, you’ll be loved, like you never have known,” which sounds simplistic and silly when sung.
Contrasting that, metal lyrics are just a conduit for screaming and/or growling. “Straight line/Feel it burst liver and lung/long and strong/’til she spills her black blood” isn’t exactly Dante’s Divine Comedy as far as poetry goes, but the rhythms of it work perfectly with the song. Most importantly, though, without the lyric sheet, I’d have absolutely no idea what he is exactly singing.
With that said, “Iron Tusk” has one of the coolest guitar sounds I’ve heard in a long time. Along with the inevitable (although, in this case, properly-deployed) dropped tuning, the Slint-ish harmonics on the amazing. Moreover, where Nile fails to employ any melody and Isis takes some time to get to it, “Iron Tusk” grabs the melody by the throat and throttles it. Where metal currently fails is in the tightness of the records, but “Iron Tusk” is a tightly wound melodic track coming in at just over three and a half minutes.
I don’t expect everyone to being writing songs about “Heart of Darkness,” Jacques Derrida or Dante. I don’t expect a band to dress up like ninjas and write songs about the imperial era in Japan. It’s just I’d like to hear more songs like “Iron Tusk” and fewer songs like “Someday, you’ll be loved.” |
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| Running diary of the VMAs |
[Aug. 28th, 2005|08:01 pm] |
Like last year, I've got nothing better to do than to write about the VMAs. I'll be honest, I'm not really sure who is nominated for anything, as every year passes and I get less and less informed about popular music. Considering my last two CD purchases were Nile and Pelican, I'm probably not the demographic they're looking for.
This VMAs will probably be remembred for two things: Diddy hosting and Suge Knight getting shot at a party earlier in the week.
For more, ( read on. ) |
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