|
Greil: Stick to Dylan.
Monday, May 6, 2002 -- 01:07 p.m.
I know this may seem blasphemous, and part of this tidbit is written to be just that out of pure snotnose chain-pulling, but I have to say it: Greil Marcus is really, really losing any sort of relevance with me. To wit: On "Yankee Hotel Foxtrot", the man who (at least to me) represents the old (and possibly tired) guard of aging rock critics more than anyone decides that "Tweedy's singing, never strong, here recedes into a dithering miasma apparently meant to signify thinking it all over, plus sound effects apparently meant to signify the modern world. In other words, it isn't against the law to redo "Revolver," but that doesn't mean it's a good idea. Especially if you're an American." I don't know exactly how to respond to that, except "nah nah nuh boo boo stick your head in 'Love And Theft' for the ten thousandth time". I will say that Greil has even less substance to his argument against this album than my argument for it ("It's bloody gorgeous"). YHF sounds like it's trying to be Revolver as much as Is This It strives to be Marquee Moon (i.e. not very much), but I guess aging boomers like Marcus, having heard it all when it first came out or whatever, really do have to rub twentynothings' noses in the Far Superior Past. Boring tired stupid. Yes, even moreso than that Village Voice article from a couple weeks back that was all about "Wilco is no big deal because there are people of color doing much more interesting things!". If this was written by the same "graduate student in ethnomusicology at Columbia University" Christian Hoard who (according to a possibility laid out by Google) is big into Phish then I laugh heartily at his expense.
Expect a Top Five later today, albeit different. I'm keeping the singles, but seeing as how I'm not much in the habit of listening to five different albums a week as of late, I might just ditch the records section and replace it with something new every week, like "Top Five Memorable Stupid Demos I've Reviewed" or "Top Five Songs About Kung-Fu" or something nice and vapid. This way, in a pinch, I can rehash and rewrite some of the Top Fives I wrote on rockcritics.com. It will probably be on hiatus as I traipse through the QCPM project, though.
While I'm at it, I might redesign this site. Templates are nice and all but I took graphic design for two years and I don't wanna let that go to waste (more than it already has, at least).
WWE?!
Sunday, May 5, 2002 -- 04:11 p.m.
IMPORTANT ALERT to all print and online journalists! Ya know how every time you feel something is crass, stupid and violent, you feel compelled to invoke the "WWF"? Well, no more! Due to a lawsuit by the World Wildlife Fund, the World Wrestling Federation will now have to be called "World Wrestling Entertainment". How does this relate to music? Simple- and important: You will have to go back and fix all your Andrew W.K. reviews.
WRONG: "'Party Hard' sounds tailor-made for the testosterone-drenched, theatrical violence of the WWF."
RIGHT: "'Party Hard' sounds tailor-made for the testosterone-drenched, theatrical violence of the WWE."
Me, I think I'll stick with my lucha libre tapes for now. Shocker es 1000% Guapo!
Hooray for Jody Beth Rosen (and Santy Claus)
Saturday, May 4, 2002 -- 11:26 p.m.
I'm in a sprightly mood 'cos I finally got a piece of blog-related e-mail feedback and it turns out it's from someone with the sort of blog I hope to be capable of churning out someday once I get used to things. So visit that site. NO NO NOT NOW, I mean when you're done reading whatever here. Unless you're pressed for time. Then feel free to visit that site immediately.
I also have a customer service job more or less lined up now, which makes me happy. Aside from a stint doing temp stuff and e-mail tech support in Eden Prairie (a horrendously misleading name for a Minneapolis suburb that's a two-hour bus ride from my apt), I have been pretty much unemployed and/or freelancing since September and I am absolutely geeked to be working again, even if it's for (oops wait am I supposed to disclose my salary? D'oh) an hour. The job involves talking to people on the telephone and helping them with general phone stuff, and the gig is located in White Bear Lake, which is sort of a cross between a suburb and a small town in its own right. It's a short bus ride, very scenic and at one point goes down Highway 61 so I can feel like a part of Bob Dylan history or something every time I go to work. Now all I need is a Buick 6.
On the opposite end of the musical spectrum from Dylan (at least I think), I decided on my way to one of the job tests that I should bite the bullet and tune in the top 40 station for a bit just to see if the ILM folx are right and pop music actually is vital and vibrant and awesome and so on and so forth. Here are the songs I heard during about 25 minutes on 101.3 KDWB:
Outkast, "The Whole World". Sweet merciful damn I love this song to pieces. Stankonia was my favorite album of 2000 (followed closely by Broadcast's "The Noise Made By People" and Grandaddy's "The Sophtware Slump", if ya care), and this was my favorite single of 2001 (ibid. "Where's Your Head At" and "Clint Eastwood"). The beat is just out there, and could easily segue into Kid Koala's "Roboshuffle" at the hands of a reasonably skilled DJ. Big Boi's lines at the end are delivered so rushed yet so smooth that it makes me go all spastic with admiration. "Wait, back to the enemy of the state/is the Republicans or Democratic candidate/Debate, now even the black box hold the fate/Clueless like Shaggy and Scooby befo' commercial break". YES. The crap part is the stupid radio station cutting off the end of the song before it gets to those odd damn-near-New-Wave horns that show up in the last few seconds.
Pink, "My Own Worst Enemy". I am having the damndest time trying to remember the melody of this song, but the sentiment just boggles me. Here she is a huge pop superstar with a colossal blockbuster record, and she's talking about how she doesn't want to compromise what she is just to be a pop star and how she doesn't want to be another Britney Spears. My more cynical self would be all "FAH what a hypocrite" but since it was a nice day out and I felt all right (thanks to Outkast, maybe) I thought "wow, cool, maybe things will change and pop will be more sincere and less fake-ass". Hope that's not too naive of me.
India.Arie, "Video". And then they follow up with this tribute to natural breasts and not looking like some tarted-up supermodel. I'm starting to wonder if maybe Sleater-Kinney will be played next. As for the song itself, it is a nice, inoffensive bit of nu-soul that I guess would not seem out of place on some mid '90s UK Acid Jazz compilation.
Some boy band crap. Another reason this Top 40 radio station sucks: They don't mention the name of the song they just played. Ever. Well, maybe that's an exaggeration, but the only way I knew what any of these songs were previously was through said station's TV spots (which showcased the video for the aforementioned Pink song) and the fact that the India.Arie song actually used her name in the chorus. This, I have no idea. All I know is the guy singing it might be the illicit love child of Elvis Costello and Tom Petty, inheriting all their vocal quirks but not one-tenth of an iota of their songwriting skills. (Not like said singer would write his own songs anyway, but still.) Basically this amounted to "I am leaving if I ever see you again I will be happy but I don't know if I will see you again I miss you blah blah blah" or some other folderol. Journey wrote better lyrics, seriously.
112, "Dance With Me". If I was not on the bus I swear I would be laughing my head off at this song. First off, it's one of those P. Diddy things, which I could tell right off the bat because some imbecilic voice kept saying "BAD BOY" at various intervals during the song. That was not the laughable part. The laughable part was when it came to about the halfway part of the song and they went "If you're sexy and you know it clap your hands". Dear Lord! I immediately switched the radio off for fear that the next line would be "if you're sexy and you know it then your crotch will surely show it". Jeezis. Just... no.
Finally, something insidious I noticed: during an ad break that seemed to last about as long as, say, Yo La Tengo's "Night Falls On Hoboken" (NOTE: That song is seventeen minutes), I heard an ad for a completely different radio station: Cities97, which specializes in Innoffensive Safe Rock Music. I think they're the station that's responsible for playing Train and their ilk. Cities97 is a member of the Clear Channel Is Worse Than Microsoft Radio Monopoly Of Death, as is 101.3 KDWB. The kicker: the KDWB DJ then busts in right after the Cities97 spot and tells us to "have a Clear Channel day". I take it this is not the same thing as having a good day. Therefore, I divert my attention to And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside Out. If I wanna listen to some seventeen-minute drone it might as well be from a band cool enough to get a one-time gig playing the Simpsons' closing credits.
Oh yeah, QCPM. I'm gonna get the 1977 entry posted in the next few days (I hope). Sex Pistols! Steely Dan! Television! Bob Marley! Marvin Gaye! And no sign of the Eagles whatsoever!
|