Omnivosaurus Rex

Top 10 shows of 2012 (+Honorable Mentions)

Wed, 26 Dec 2012 23:34:50 -0500

10. Parades End

While a British drama about the upper class during Edwardian England and the first world war seems to reek of Downton Abbey, this miniseries actually has substance and things to say. Benedict Cumberbatch fulfills his namesake and plays a stuffy, sexually repressed young lord whose brilliance in finance and bureaucracy do not extend to the politics inherent in the upper class. His wife (Rebecca Hall) is simultaneously overbearing and repressed in her role as a lady, and there’s a whole forbidden love angle with a Michelle Williams look-a-like (Adelaide Clemens). I am mostly including this in the top 10 to put it on the list, but that’s because it actually deals with characters living in history and not just in a historical setting. The war scenes are great, the acting is great across the board, and no one comes across as too villainous or perfect. If you want more Downton but would like it to be less of a Tory wet dream, please check this out.

9. Game Of Thrones

As a fan of the books, I already know what should happen in this show. So I was surprised when the writers went past trimming the text down to actually putting characters in different situations. And I was even more surprised when this made the overall story even better. One of the shows strengths is its dialogue scenes, and Season 2 did not disappoint. Whatever you guys are doing in the writing room, do more of it, please.

8. Mad Men

On merit alone it would be at the top of the list, but that would be unfair to so many other shows. Season 5 keeps on raising the bar for the sheer artistry that is put into each episode by the whole cast and crew. Its comforting to know a modern masterpiece is getting its deserved praise while it it still airing.

7. Boardwalk Empire

This was the year we finally begin to see the Twenties the way we remember them. Lots of guns, Lots of booze, lots of sleeping around. And furthermore Steve Buscemi really does deserve some praise for his portrayal of Nucky Thompson, by the end of the season I don’t think people can say that this won’t be an iconic role. Plus the direction this season has been top notch. Tim Van Patten and Allen Coulter are at the top of their game in this season, creating a show that can dazzle you with both allusive settings and tense action, often within the same scene. The show keeps topping itself and it has no sign of slowing down.

6. The Eric Andre Show

Tim and Eric meets late night. Probably the most acquired taste on the list and not immune from a few dud sketches, but when it shines, it burns your eyes. Hannibal Buress is the perma-blazed linchpin that keeps the show from going too off the rails, and the guests each night seems to get better and better, until Will.I.Am steals the last episode.

5. Girls

A voice of a generation indeed. As a member of the unemployed, early twentysomthing posse, a great deal of the content of the show cuts pretty close to home for me, and that seems to be true for other people my age who I’ve talked to about this show. So many people have been trying to define this new post-adolescence, pre-adulthood mindset that has arisen in the past decade or so, and I think this has gotten the closest. Girls also gets a big boost from me for its cinematography. The DP, Jody Lee Lipes, somehow shoots scenes that look cold and feel warm, embodying a post-collegiate haze where existential dread is like a warm blanket.

4. The Thick of It

As an American, the politics on this show don’t hit quite as close as I imagine they would if I was British, but it’s a true testament to its quality that it doesn’t really matter. With the long-form Goolding Inquiry penultimate episode, the overarching themes of the whole series came to a head in a manner that most other shows could only aspire to. Not only did it showcase the mutually parasitic relationship between the government and the media in a clear cut, almost educational fashion, it did so by taking away all the power from characters we were accustomed to controlling the strings. And since we knew the characters so well at this point, all the fumbling over words and pained faces were even more hilarious and engrossing than if we had caught the footage during the news. It makes me wonder if former political aides who are still “in the loop” find watching Cspan or PMQs this entertaining (probably not).

3. Justified

So much clicks on this show that its almost unfair. The dialogue is quick and snappy and funny without ever seeming quirky(a la Gilmore Girls), the acting is pitch perfect for the setting and tone, and the increasingly serialized storytelling is only becoming more and more compelling. It feels like all the actors were born to play these roles. And impressively, the show has been widening its scope inch by inch to portray South-East Kentucky as an oft overlooked area of the country that is increasingly becoming emblematic of many of the issues America has created for itself in its recent history. Coal miners, Oxycontin, Organized crime, race relations, urban/rural divide, local elections, and the US Marshals in the middle, all treated with enough gravity and levity to make it feel human

2. Danger 5

In a perfect world there would be a whole channel devoted to shows like this (and Adult Swim doesn’t count). A group of international Allied spies sent to kill Hitler? Cool. Set in the 60? Sweet. Full of visual gags and surreal plot-lines? Awesome. And made with the aesthetics of a B television show from the 70’s or 80’s, complete with many sets and creatures (like mind-controlled Nazi dinosaurs) done in miniature? Perfect. If you’re some silly person who’s still skeptical after this description, you must find fun frivolous or something.

1. Sex House

This gets the #1 spot because of how unexpected it was to find such a brilliant show as a web series with 6 minute long episodes. Starts off as satire, quickly takes a pitch black turn, and keeps getting darker and more surreal until you wonder if this should just be a horror series. Reality show parodies now have a standard set so high for them that I am gleefully dreading the next one that even comes close to this.

Honorable Mentions

Breaking Bad
By now, everyone should know how good this show is, and the season isn’t over so I’m holding my judgement. Not that it could be bad of course.

Friday Night Dinner
Somewhat silly British-Jewish family comedy, worth it for Mark Heap as the weird neighbor and the fairly inventive situations that someone invariably gets themselves into. The second series ramps up the zaniness without feeling forced, which is pretty hard to do. I didn’t think I would like it as much as I did, and now I’ve re-watched it multiple times.

Grandma’s House
Somewhat serious British-Jewish family comedy, it can hit dark and personal issues without missing comedy beats. probably has to do with the large amount of talent on the show, and the British are better at that sort of thing anyway

Comedy Bang Bang
Another talk show parody that has some Tim and Eric connections, was a toss up between this and Eric Andre. Reggie Watts is the man.

Portlandia
Fred and Carrie haven’t lost it, not at all.

Regular Show
My preferred cartoon of the year, hurts my brain less than adventure time yet is just as funny.

Veep
The Thick of It was superior to this one this year, but I suspect once this show has a few seasons under its belt it will be one of the funniest and most relevant shows stateside. Since there’s no Malcolm like character the whole cast gets to trade in impressive insults and put-downs, which adds some distance and charm.

Twenty Twelve
Mockumentary centered on the planning committee of the 2012 London Olympics. Hugh Bonneville shows impressive comedic chops here, who knew Lord Grantham could be so funny. Catchphrasy but the characters are very easy to love(or hate-love)

The Booth At The End
The other end of the impressive web-series section, I never would have suspected a show that is only one on one conversations to be so dynamic, dramatic, and compelling. Xander Berkeley is absolutely wonderful here.

Recent Random Musings of August

Fri, 31 Aug 2012 17:08:57 -0400

So instead of putting off writing and editing a big, formulated post/essay, I figured I’d go for a bunch of disparate thoughts that more accurately represents my thought process and interests. Bear with me, Since I’ll be all over the place.

The Pitchfork Peoples List

If you haven’t checked it out, Pitchfork compiled a user generated list of the top 200 albums from the past 15 years. There were very few surprises on the list; I think it was already obvious that people who read Pitchfork like Radiohead as much as Pitchfork does. In fact, there’s so little to debate about the main list that I almost immediately started thinking about things I wish they had done with the data. I first should mention that they did have some interesting statistics on the location and demographics of their submissions. Like, did you know that Japan is the only country to rate Kid A higher than Ok Computer? But there was so much potential in the data they collected that what is presented seems a bit limited. I would have really liked to see the point total of each album instead of just a ranking, just to see if there were any big jumps in totals as you go down the list. I wanna know by how much which Radiohead album the people preferred. Or maybe more than a top 20 on the detailed demographic lists. Some of those barely had two Radiohead albums in them!

Anyway, I had a lot more fun making my personal list and wasting my time ordering albums in the 80-100 range where there was little to no difference to how much I liked them. I do wish the designers of the list had given us the ability to play around with our lists after the poll closed, they obviously put some time into this project so it seems like a bit of a waste to throw that work away. You would think that Pitchfork would be all for sustainability.

Vaporwave?

Adam Harper - Vaporwave and the Pop-Art of the Virtual Plaza

So it’s somewhat gratifying to see an article come out about a new(?) internet(?) genre(?) of lo-fi music(?) that I had been finding here and there on my crawls through similar artist trees on Last.fm; I hadn’t realized how limited the scene was, if you could call it a scene. Admittedly, I often feel out of touch with what’s going on these days. Living away from a major cultural center or people my age means that I only really consume things en masse from download binges without much outside, direct human input. So it’s kinda weird how I have mixed feelings about this article, mostly because I found it almost two months after it was written.

Hmmm, I guess this is more of a comment on the impermanence of internet dialogue. I wish I had a chance to comment on the topic while it was fresh, since I had some ideas bouncing around my head for a few months beforehand but I’ve lost most of them. What I’ve read has now replaced my personal thoughts and now I can’t tell if its all some meta-commentary on how transient ideas are these days and how that is reflected in music that invokes a transient feeling or what. I still like the stuff, you could almost call it Smooth Industrial. Advertwave? Post-Pop?

I should mention that the next article that Adam Harper wrote is about the modern phenomenon of silly genre names, or rather, why do people dismiss and deride any attempts to name a nascent genre. Its another great read, I’m coming to realize how rare it is to find a music critic who writes about current topics with any sense of authority, and doesn’t hide behind a veneer of sarcasm or cynicism.

Sight and Sound and Lists

Earlier this month the new Sight and Sound poll of the ”greatest films of all time” came out. It’s only compiled every ten years, and serves as one of the most venerable guides to what critics think about cinematic history. While its easy to see how biased this list is for “the classics”, it is still a great go-to if you want to see what some of the most influential movies ever made. The big news about this decade’s list is how Vertigo has unseated Citizen Kane for the #1 spot, a position it had held for 50 years. Of course, this may have happened because the amount of critics tapped for this list more than doubled from the 2002 edition, but it still is worth some notice.

Cooler still is how BFI has also released all of the individual lists from the critics and directors that were asked to contribute. I have a feeling that I’m going to spend too much time trying to find the hidden gems, though it not like I’ve seen most of these movies anyway.

Sex House, and the Rise of the Web Series

If you haven’t been watching The Onion’s Sex House, you’ve been missing the best TV show of the summer. Thats right, I’m rating it higher than Breaking Bad (or Louie). It is at once a deconstruction of a Big-Brother style reality show, a satire on the sexulization of popular media, and an example of fantastic absurdist humor that revels in the horrific. The only criticism I can find is how hard it its to convince people to start watching a show called Sex House. You should watch the first two episodes at least, the brilliance of the series really starts to show as the series reveals itself.

And the most surprising and wonderful part is that it’s a web series that only has 6-8 minute episodes that come out once a week. If you told me six months ago that a web series could make it onto my list of “must-watch” shows, I wouldn’t have believed you. But here it is, and its great. It is so impressive that the writers are able to fit such a nuanced, pointed take on this type of show in such a short amount of time. I’m so glad that this series exists, if only for the fact that it showed me how an internet-based series can be a viable alternative to network and cable shows.

Things I’ve Been Re-discovering

I’ve taken some time to go back and try to understand all of the political mob-stuff going on in the background of The Sopranos. Between the New Jersey accent and the unexplained jargon of organized crime, I would suspect that most of the audience had as hard of a time as I did keeping all of the side characters straight and following all of their relationships. It’s surprisingly not too important for the overall picture of the show, but theres so much fictional history contained in each season that its hard to resist the urge to learn it all. If anything, it makes me appreciate how much time the creators spent building up this world.

It seems like Pharrell is more of an influential artist and less of a current creative force these days. Dunno why I have that sense, maybe Kanye takes up too much space in the “black producer/rapper/artist/entrepreneur” realm for the others to stand out like they once did. But I’ve always been a fan of Pharrell’s work, especially N*E*R*D’s 2006 album Fly or Die. There’s a lot of flaws with the album I guess, mostly with how many tracks are actually two songs joined with a bit of silence. That gets really annoying when you only want to hear one, and prevents me from ever using those songs in playlists or mixes. But I’m willing to forgive this oversight for how good much of the album sounds. I used to listen to the album all the time in high school, streaming it from their website in an era when albums were rarely ever streamed in total before being released.

Animal Collective Inspires the Worst Writing

The new Animal Collective album Centipede Hz (streaming here) has generated some of the purplest music writing I’ve ever seen. I’m seriously getting flashbacks to the Pitchfork Kid A review.

From The Quietus:

“…an album that burned when it should have dissolved, which laughed as the electric thud of childhood’s warm summer blood ran cold, which exploded at the very dead-end of peacefulness, and which at every stage rendered the listener an object inside, looking out.”

What.

Granted, this is about their previous album, Merriweather Post Pavillion, but the stuff later on isn’t much better:

“Whereas before their method of expressing boundless joy - those tumbling-over-themselves structures - was rooted in serenity, here there’s something almost hungry about their quest for bliss. You could describe it as intensity. It’s as if their fractured schemes for the pursuit of pleasure have become destabilized, curdling into volatility”

“Like a Michel Gondry montage it seems to spin, scattering a dizzying array of choruses, bridges, breaks, crescendos and peaks - what could be 10 independent sections but what feels like a hundred. Imagine ‘In The Flowers’ mid-point flash in cubomaniacal battle with The Beatles’ entire back catalogue.”

“He is the ‘Mercury Man’, imprisoned in fizzing digitalism and dreaming of life as a real boy…The pace increases and gradually anguish cedes to a celebration of life; but life as lived in any form, even an artificial one.”

“…it’s all elbow-pads and sandals. Salvation from mundanity arrives with another gorgeous vocal melody and a final act of Mardi Gras delirium, sounding not unlike Ibiza pop filtered through ‘Hounds Of Love’”

I don’t think this is a great way to write about music, since I don’t really get what these esoteric statements mean. I understand the desire to find words that attempt to capture a certain intangible quality of what you are listening to, I may have done it in the past. But it’s too easy to get caught up in your own overwrought metaphors and stop describing the actual music to potential listeners. Writing like this doesn’t help me understand why I should listen to the album or not, it just shows me that you like to write about your thoughts.

I’ll contrast this review with one of my favorite short pieces of music writing, Derek Miller’s review of Grizzly Bear’s Veckatimest. Somehow he is able to be metaphorical without being overwrought, descriptive without being flowery.

From the end:

“It’s the sense of someone waiting on you without hanging or pestering, this quiet love of custom and comfort that comes from long-acquaintance. And, frankly, that’s exactly what Veckatimest is: this aged, oft-peaceful thing you feel you’ve known since youth. I have a feeling Grizzly Bear will go on to make better records. But Veckatimest might well be the one you return to most fondly. It’s an album with flaws you grow cozy with over time—a gorgeous thing with a tiny cheek-scar whose eyes are all you see anyway. As we all know, those are the ones you keep close.”

It’s rare to find an album review that works as a good piece of writing outside of its inherent utility. I find it almost sad that it has to be attached to an album that immediately anchors it to a point in time, as it’s too easy to lose a review like this in the shuffle.

But so it goes I suppose.

Photo

Fri, 24 Aug 2012 11:00:20 -0400

What two directors thought about the “future of...

Mon, 06 Aug 2012 22:30:00 -0400

What two directors thought about the “future of cinema” 30 years ago. In gif form.

(If you want to see the whole documentary by Wim Wenders, its up on Vimeo here. You may notice I took a few liberties while editing for size even though this gif is huge, sorry.)

Moving Past Your Local Theater

Thu, 02 Aug 2012 14:41:00 -0400

Last weekend put me in a novel situation.

I took a trip to the Smithsonian to see The Dark Night Rises in one of the original 6-story IMAX theaters (and not one of those converted theaters like the one in King of Prussia). I figured I would trust Mr. Nolan’s assertions that the film was designed to be seen in that particular setting, and now I frankly can’t imagine seeing it in a normal theater again unless I sat in the third row or something. While our seats were a bit close because people started queuing up for a 7 PM show at 5:30 (Really? I didn’t think I’d have to treat this like going to the airport), it only took five minutes until I was totally absorbed. I have little to say yet about the movie itself other than “Sweet!” or “Awesome!” , but I am still struck by how much I had enjoyed making a whole day out of the spectacle. I don’t think this is exactly what they mean when they call a blockbuster an “event movie” but it reminded me of similar situations where I’ve had to travel to a specific theater, one other than the closest or biggest in the area.

The first time I made the effort to find a movie outside a wide release was when I traveled an hour and a half to see A Scanner Darkly. The rotoscoped preview was enough to pique my 17 year old interest, plus Keanu in a Sci-fi dystopia? And Thom York on the soundtrack? It was a bit more depressing than I was expecting, but I am surprised at how high it remains on my ever-changing mental list of favorite movies.

(Visual representation of my favorite people?)

I also have fond memories of seeing sneak previews of both Juno and Slumdog Millionaire in Philadelphia before they had gone into wide release, which added an interesting perspective on the critical and general reactions to those movies. I still have a t-shirt from the Juno showing and Danny Boyle was on hand to answer questions after Slumdog, which consequently led me to stammer something out to him about how I was a Big Fan of all of his work as he was signing a poster even though I really had only seen half of Trainspotting back in high school.

What also made these events fun was the amount of planning and foresight involved in getting everyone registered online and into the city (and at the right theater), which in turn added to the overall spectacle of the movie theater experience. I’m sure I will enjoy watching Batman and Bane fight on my computer screen, but that will partly come from my memory of having to turn my head to follow the action since there was so much screen. It’s going to be a long time until a movie takes up that much physical space for me, at least until Brad Bird decides to top Christopher Nolan’s IMAX obsession for his next movie in some sort of gentlemanly director’s competition.

I’d even go to New York to see that.

-David

So, it’s been a year since my last post. Woops. I should say...

Thu, 02 Aug 2012 07:27:00 -0400

So, it’s been a year since my last post. Woops.

I should say that while I had hoped not to be away from this project for so long, I realized from the beginning that as long as I started something, barring tumblr’s demise, I would be able to return to it if I ever waned in my resolution to write my thoughts down about what I hear, watch, and play. That it took me so long to get back to it is totally my fault, but I’m glad that there’s been intermittent activity and that no one has posted in a few months so we can start anew-ish. I’ve been gorging myself on media with all my free time anyway, so I should have a lot to say for a while. I just hope I didn’t lose everyone’s interest, though I’m assuming that few people unfollowed the twitter account because I almost never cull my own “following” list. And everyone acts like me, right?

So here goes…

-David

Falling Down the YouTube Rabbit Hole

Tue, 03 Apr 2012 03:54:00 -0400

Just like every other snooty white person, I spent last Sunday getting psyched for the return of Mad Men. And just like every other snooty white person, I was shocked shocked by Megan’s performance of the Gillian Hill classic, “Zou Bisou Bisou.” Take a look at this scandalous behavior, in case you’re our one follower who doesn’t watch Mad Men:

As one YouTube commenter stated, this scene was filled with even more tension than the third season’s infamous “lawnmower scene” (if you don’t know what I’m referring to there, I sure as hell won’t ruin that surprise). Whether or not you agree with it, you have to admit that this scene will probably become the most rewatched section of Mad Men this season… for a variety of reasons. Yé-yé is due for a comeback, ya know? I’ve watched it far too many times to count already, but that might be because I have a strange penchant for attractive women singing songs as the Clash at Demonhead scene from Scott Pilgrim demonstrated (don’t worry, I promise this post has a point beyond me airing my strange laundry).

That point being, as soon as the episode was finished, I hurried to YouTube to watch it again. And again. And somehow, between the related video recommendations and the A.V. Club’s comment section, I found myself stuck in the YouTube vortex, planted on the spot watching video after video until finally I found myself watching an episode of “Cooking with Coolio.”

Figuring out exactly how I got to that point is a bit like tracking one of those drunken conversations people have in hallways during parties in college: you start out talking about the something inane like whether or not the last season of Lost was any good (it wasn’t) and end up discussing the fact that there’s an enormous black hole at the center of the Milky Way. There’s a way to track this progression (with the YouTube vortex, it’s as easy as pushing the “Back” button a few times to retrace your steps), but there’s something much more enjoyable about letting it progress to the point of absurdity, where there is no comprehensible reason for you to be watching the hype man behind Coolio repeating everything he says (except LOUDER!), but you can’t imagine it happening any other way.

I suppose there’s something more substantial to be said about our generation and our reduced attention spans; I’m sure people could talk about how spending hours watching covers of R. Kelly’s “Ignition” and then discussing them on various forums is demonstrative of the encroaching end times. But I’d rather end with a YouTube Adventure that takes advantage of the idea of the “Recommended Video” in an ingenious way. So set aside an hour or two and see how deep the rabbit hole goes:

AKB48 and the Pop Culture Hive Mind

Mon, 26 Mar 2012 23:45:00 -0400

Hello faithful readers/people who saw this post pop up on Twitter!

This is the first of what I’m hoping will be many articles that chronicle my descent into the strange strange world of Japanese popular culture. If all goes as planned, you should be able to track the gradual degradation of my sanity through the increasingly manic nature of each entry. But I shouldn’t get ahead of myself just yet. I’ve barely even begun!

I think I had been in Japan for about four hours before I first heard about AKB48, the mythic pop group that dominates the cultural consciousness here. “If your students ever ask you what music you like, just say either The Beatles, Michael Jackson, or AKB48. Everyone knows them. Everyone.”

Wiser words have never been spoken. Right away, the first person I met in my town asked me what famous current Japanese people I knew, and after saying the traditional “Ken Watanabe, Hayao Miyazaki, and Ichiro” response, I decided to go for broke: “and also AKB48.” He lost it. “YOU KNOW AKB48? すごいですね!* Everyone loves them here.” Even in this tiny inaka town (there are about 5000 people living here, we have no real public transport to speak of, and some families don’t have full-fledged internet), AKB48 had made its mark.

Really, AKB48 has achieved a type of pop culture saturation that is unrivalled by any western musician. Sure, Adele’s music is pretty inescapable (I like “Rolling in the Deep” just as much as the next person, but did I really need to hear it at least once every hour this past summer?) and Lady Gaga has one of the most recognizable faces on the planet (even if it was decked out in a beard of insects to make a statement about the treatment of transgendered people), but do either of them have their own store in the Japanese equivalent of Times Square? Can you name a pop performer who puts on a show every.single.day (I’m excluding Broadway talent simply because most of them aren’t household names. Sorry, theater nerds.)? Does any contemporary artist have three different TV shows that air every week? AKB48 has become ubiquitous in Japanese culture, a real J-Pop juggernaut (J-Poppernaut?) that dominates the airwaves, both radial and televisual. Even adults can’t get enough of those crazy dancing and singing girls.

So what exactly is AKB48, you ask? It is, according to the Guinness Book of World Records, the “Largest Pop Group on Earth.” And this title is well-earned.

I refuse to post the original music video of this song. Go look it up yourself!

There are currently 54 members of the main group with 23 extra trainees/understudies waiting in the wings, if the group’s website is to be believed (I worry something was lost in translation on it, as the numbers don’t quite add up with the Wikipedia numbers, but oh well). Originally, the “48” part of their name represented the forty-eight members of the group, but because of their insane popularity, membership was expanded while their name, which had already become a recognizable brand throughout the country, stayed the same, rendering the number meaningless. As a result, there’s no real sense of individuality or specialness within the group. Granted, the main group is split into three different mini-teams (Teams A, K, and B, of course! And the trainees make up the unfortunately bland “Team 4,” clearly getting the short end of the spirit stick.) and each of these mini-teams has its own captain, but as far as I can tell, there is no real distinction amongst the members. They are all part of this pop monstrosity together. In case you need any further evidence of the interchangeability of the team members, the group routinely holds contests to determine who will be the lead singers on AKB’s next single. What sort of contest, you ask? Rock, Paper, Scissors (I could seriously write another article detailing the prevalence of that game as a problem-solving method in this country. It’s everywhere. I imagine business negotiations using it.).

Here’s the winner of a recent Jan-Ken-Po tournament, reacting in a completely normal way.

I honestly can’t imagine a starker contrast to the western conception of the pop star. American culture in particular tends to celebrate the power of the exceptional individual. We attach ourselves to the narrative of these people, we become invested in their lives, we buy gossip magazines chronicling their upskirts, sexploitations, and prostitute-purchasing misadventures. We want to learn about how Taylor Swift, Adele, or Katy Perry took a bad break-up and turned it into a best-selling single or how Lady Gaga was once the quiet girl at the back of her NYU class before becoming the meat-wearing, in-egg-living monolith we know today. We want to hear about the strength and determination of these people because that is what we as a society tend to value. We believe that if we were to work as hard as these people, we too could attain financial success and cultural ubiquity. It’s the inevitable extrapolation of the American Dream, where a person can make millions by working hard at something they love to do.

Even during the 90s, the glory days of boy bands and pop girl groups, you still got a sense of the individuals in the group. Sure, they did all the same synchronized moves and no one really had solo songs in the group, but you still got a sense of their individual personalities. This sense, the idea that one of them was the “bad boy” or the “sporty” one or the “artistic one,” made each member basically irreplaceable. I’m not particularly well-versed in the history of boy bands (middle school was the height of my “only movie soundtracks and scores” phase. Sooooo awkward.), but I can’t think of a group that actually replaced a single member, much less multiples, and retained their popularity. And as my friend Karina, card-carrying feminist and noted Angela Carter reader, pointed out to me, “with the Backstreet Boys, per se, everyone knew each one of the members’ names and image… You could get a poster of Nick Carter or A.J. or Brian [by themselves],” simultaneously raising a very good point on the nature of the 90s boy band and demonstrating far more knowledge of the B.B. (did they ever call themselves that?) than I could ever hope to have. This is the reason why these members could eventually work towards solo careers. Not everyone turned out to be Justin Timberlake, who seems to have thrown pop stardom away in favor of starring in mostly tepid movies and occasionally revitalizing SNL, but at least they all had a shot at it.

AKB48, on the other hand, emphasizes the power of the collective and the replaceable nature of its team members. Can you not keep up with the group’s hectic schedule (and these girls do work their asses off. Daily performances, three TV shows, and studio recording is part of the everyday routine)? Are you injured? Are you just getting old and losing your popularity? The group has Team 4 to fall back on. At any point in time, they can pull you out and pop in a replacement like a fresh battery. No one is essential. When I ask students who their favorite member of AKB48 is, they either respond with a laundry list of names or simply say which team they prefer, unless I speak to a student who really knows their AKB48. Consequently, whenever students ask me who I like, I usually respond with, “They have names?”

Once you get past the INSANE introduction, the name of this song translates to “Ponytail and Scrunchie.” Seriously.

Now, there are, as always, exceptions to this idea of faceless anonymity. When the group was first conceived, there was an online petition to get a waitress named Mariko Shinoda who worked at Akihabara Theater (later renamed the AKB Theater) an audition for the group. She was successful and became one of the group’s most popular members. She has since gone on to become a singer, actress, model, and television host (seriously?! Japan works its celebrities so hard!). She proved that it is possible to differentiate yourself from the herd, it’s just incredibly difficult.

But there are also incidents of intense strangeness that reiterate just how replaceable the members are. Last year, the group’s manager announced that a new member named Aimi Eguchi would be joining them.

Here she is, boys! Here she is, world!

After stoking the fires of fandom with news about this incredible new member (including a featured article/portrait in the skeezy Japanese magazine, Weekly Playboy), it was finally revealed that she didn’t actually exist. In a real life example of that boring Al Pacino movie that I somehow ended up seeing twice (ugh), it turned out that Aimi Eguchi was actually a CGI composite of several different AKB48 members created to sell candy for the Ezaki Glico Company, the makers of Pocky (!!!). The company was able to pick and choose which parts of which members were most attractive and bring them together to form the “perfect” pop idol (Mariko Shinoda’s mouth was actually selected. Good for her.). No single member (or even real person) was deemed attractive or good enough to represent this candy company.

The truth comes out.

And on top of all this, Japan seems to be collectively jumping on the bandwagon. There are AKB48 branches/sister groups sprouting up in cities all over Japan. There’s SKE48 (centered in Nagoya), NMB48 (based in Osaka),HKT48 (from Fukuoka), and SDN48 (also from Tokyo, but this is the “Adults Only” group). My students told me which of these groups is the most attractive as well (a word of advice: SKE48 is great, but stay away from HKT48. They are かわくない!**). But much like the Indiana Jones movies, nothing compares to the original. There’s no sense of AKB48 slowing down. In fact, it was recently announced that the group is going to have its very own anime released sometime this year, ensuring that they will burrow even further into the Japanese consciousness, like that weird robot thing from The Matrix that climbed into Keanu Reeves’s belly button. And given the fact that they can continually replace the old members (via a delightfully euphemistic “graduation ceremony”), producer Yasushi Akimoto may have created a pop culture perpetual motion device, one that can adapt to the times and change its image without people fully realizing it, simply because it has no identity of its own.

Their first single. They were so young and innocent then. They still are, but they aren’t the same girls.

*－すごいですね！- A common Japanese usually translated as “Isn’t that amazing?!”

**－かわくない！- “They are not cute,” which is about as cruel as the Japanese get.

-Kyle

Post-script: If it sounds like I’m going to spend my time with these articles dumping on Japanese culture, I apologize. That’s not my intention at all. I love Japanese culture. Why else would I be here? I don’t even hate AKB48. I find elements of the group (notably their portrayal of sexuality) to be very troubling, but I also find them to be a fascinating reflection of the Japanese mentality. Also, “Heavy Rotation” (the first video I posted in this article) is a real catchy pop song. Seriously. Listen to it and try to not get it stuck in your head.

bring on yr wrecking ball; or perhaps more accurately, i listen to too much bruce

Wed, 14 Mar 2012 21:58:00 -0400

My life has been tracked by Bruce Springsteen. Imagine my mental and spiritual development as Sophia from The Walking Dead and Bruce as Deryl (or whatever bastardization of Darryl it is): I left prints and fragments of my childhood scattered around in a forest, and while every other band talked about how many carrots were left or why the other child in the party is allowed to walk around unsupervised, Bruce was out looking for me. He was out on that hill; he was staring out into the night; he was making a promise that he would meet me in a dream of this hard land. I imputed some beat American stoic philosophy from his records: there’s a darkness on the edge of town, but if you turn up your radio, I’ll save my love for you. There ain’t much cover with no one running by your side. Every Mighty Max drop-forge-hit on the snare, every galloping bass line, every lion’s howl of a Big Man saxophone solo gave me a second more of a glimpse of the promised land. Waiting for me to finish the Deryl metaphor? Too late: I’ve abandoned it, but I do not end up a zombie in the barn; I have not wasted half my life dealing with a veterinarian named Herschel.

TL;DR: Bruce is important to me. Thus, when he releases new records, I get anxious: what if they suck? U2 had good records, but everything they’ve released in fifteen years has been asinine drivel that makes me wonder who really wrote The Joshua Tree. Bruce has sidestepped most of the aging star inflation and collapse, though the quality of his songwriting has taken serious hits. Working on a Dream was rough to digest; a nine-minute album opener with an A-A-A-A rhyme scheme is a stretch for any amount of artistic capital. I don’t think I really enjoy any of the songs on the album besides ‘The Wrestler,” and it’s sad that the tribute to Danny Federici is pretty unlistenable. Magic had a few killer tracks but also hosts some of my least favorite Bruce traxxx ever (namely “Gypsy Biker” and the title track). The Rising is easily the best of his late career stuff, but still loses some sheen because of the awful production. I like to hear the full band, not just Bruce and Steve on guitar.

Given all this, I was pretty skeptical when Wrecking Ball was announced. Most of the big guns in the band have crossed the border: Federici in 2008, Clarence Clemons in 2011. Of course, the E Street band has always been a bit of a rotating cast— bosses extraordinaire David Sancious, Ernest “Boom” Carter, and Vini “Mad Dog” Lopez all played on seminal Bruce tracks (see everything on The Wild, The Innocent, and the E Street Shuffle and most tracks on Born to Run) but now do jazz fusion or something. However, when two founding members die, it’s tough to imagine any album attaining the brilliance that full-band records like Darkness or The River emanate. Their ghosts hang like the fog on some Asbury Park beach, waiting in the wings for the Valhalla E Street reunion at the end of it all; Bruce is left to figure out a sound as impactful as his legends without his sidearm heroes.

The Boss has always been a crafty player, though. At the 1999 VMAs, when essentially no one in the audience knew who Bruce Springsteen was, he got on stage with the Wallflowers and consumed the stage in presence and power; watching the video makes you feel bad for Jakob Dylan (not really, though). For Wrecking Ball, Bruce does not confront the ghosts of Danny and the Big Man; instead, he channels their bodhisattva essence and populates the record with requiems for E Streets past, culminating in jazz-funeral waltz-with-mes down Broadway that mend no faults of late career Bruce and instead erect the E street temple in eternal rock. The title track, though written for the demolition of the original Giants Stadium in the Meadowlands and allegedly told from the building’s perspective, issues a bold challenge to any Springsteen heirs apparent: bring on your wrecking ball. The earth-shaking E Street band has more and better records than you do; their B-side collections make your A-game look like paupers’ pittances. “If you think it’s your time / then step to the line / and bring on your wrecking ball.”

The flip side is that ghosts are still ghosts: dreary, occasionally frightening spectres that never really look quite like the loved living things that became such hollow shades. The band disillusioned with Reaganomics on albums like The River and the Bruce twisted to darkness on Nebraska emerge through the album’s vehemently populist shots at the vices of capitalism. “Johnny 99” stalks “Easy Money,” although his impact is muted by some pretty horrid songwriting (“You put out the dog / I’ll put out the cat”); “Stolen Car” sees its coda in “Swallowed Up.” The former, a bleak River number, ends “But I ride by night and I travel in fear / That in this darkness I will disappear;” the latter’s narrator awakes in darkness and attests that he has “disappeared from this world.” “Death to My Hometown” calls out the Born in the USA album closer “My Hometown” and laments the structured-debt pillaging carried out by “greedy thieves.” “We Take Care of Our Own” takes the same harrowing-realization-satire that BITUSA’s title track made famous: Bruce wants to say we don’t really take care of our own. He’s less subtle here than thirty years ago, so the message loses some bite. Rounding out the Scrooge-at -his-gravestone gloom on the tracks are “This Depression” and “Jack of all Trades,” slow-jam rejects from The Rising with the 9/11 loss swapped for unemployment lament.

It wouldn’t be E Street, though, if the ghosts were all cold and deathly. The sidewalk-bright warmth roars through on “Wrecking Ball” and the cover of “American Land;” ‘We Are Alive” retreads the groove from “My Best Was Never Good Enough” from The Ghost of Tom Joad to “fight shoulder to shoulder and heart to heart.” ‘Wrecking Ball” even has some funny little cues from “Born to Run” with all the “whoa-oh-ohs” at the end. “Rocky Ground” channels The Rising’s E Street taken to church from “My City of Ruins,” and while the track doesn’t have enough muscle, instead sporting hired-hand vocals, samples, and a not terrible but totally ridiculous rap, it still feels redemptive to hear Minister Bruce sing “there’s a new day coming.”

And of course, no ghost could be as big as that of the Big Man: on the best song he’s written in fifteen years, Bruce calls Clemons down from the cosmos on “Land of Hope and Dreams” to deliver a brief a cappella intro and two heart-bursting signature solos. There are even some organ sweeps peppered throughout the track, so memories of Danny light up the boardwalk a few more times. The 808s are gimmicky and totally unnecessary (that goes for the whole album) and they should have kept Bruce’s incendiary guitar solo from the Live in NYC version, but the track loses none of its teary-eyed torches-together greatness.

All told, Wrecking Ball breaks even. Its ham-fisted appeals to the working man are forgiven because the songs that truly resonate on an E Street level transcend their faults and peak at curvature-of-the-earth levels. I strongly recommend the title track, “Death to My Hometown,” and “Land of Hope and Dreams.”

—smith

p.s. I blogged lol

rhyemusic: My first single. Whenever I get my email...

Wed, 08 Feb 2012 10:33:00 -0500

rhyemusic:

My first single.

Whenever I get my email newsletter from The FADER (yes, I’ve literally tried EVERYTHING now), I find that I always tend to click through to articles written by Haverford alum Duncan Cooper… without even thinking about it. I guess it might be true what they say about the apple and the tree. Anyway, thanks to this little article, I think I may have made an ACTUAL musical discovery (and luckily enough, the band’s on tumblr!). Pop culture, Haverford… seemed relevant.

Bee-zoos

- Thea

french clap

Mon, 30 Jan 2012 12:06:08 -0500

Last Wednesday evening, after a long French lunch, I went to the Grand Théâtre in Angers for a night of vocal jazz. You know, away from all the fliers. Anyway, I don’t have much to say about the show; technically, it was quite good - amazing, even - but I don’t know enough about jazz as a style to really say. Really, I want to talk about everything but the show.

Possibly one of the best reasons to come to Europe is that there’s a lot of old stuff here - older than anything you might find back home in the US (except for some faint cultural memories that we’ve been trying to stamp out for centuries and maybe some trees). The Grand Théâtre, while not ancient, still encloses a bit of the past. Sitting in the third balcony, I could practically change the diapers of the cherubs painted on the ceiling… but only if I wanted to risk a four-story vertical drop to the orchestra. Vertigo aside, I was happier in the balcony where I could admire the chandelier as a neighbor, rather than imagine and re-imagine movie scenes where some clever person cuts the chandelier rope.

At theaters like this one, I always feel like I need to know how to behave, and all other (pop) cultural knowledge is practically irrelevant. Maybe that’s why I like going to the theatre. Perhaps it’s the pull of tradition and propriety that creates a sweeping tidal force at the end of a performance; I don’t know. What I do know, though, is that I have never ceased to be creeped out by the slow and inevitable metamorphasis of a round of applause from a roar of enthusiastic clapping to a singular rhythm, as if we had been invited to participate in an audience clap for a song no one could hear.

I should also probably mention that, when invited to sing along with the group, everyone in the theater sang on key… and caught onto the melody very quickly. So, really, it could just be that the French, as a culture, are more attuned (haha) to music, more attentive to detail. It could just be that they’re better listeners, and it’s only natural to hear the rhythm of your neighbor’s clapping and catch on. So, I don’t know, maybe we, as Americans, don’t really hear music in the same way.

What’s the best way to show musician’s you care, anyway?

- Thea

P.S. That was my subtle way of demanding how to tell Seal that he can cry on my shoulder.

Cultural Resolutions

Tue, 03 Jan 2012 05:49:00 -0500

‘Bout time, eh? Sorry about the ridiculously long hiatus, folks. At least it wasn’t a “Third Season of Avatar: The Last Airbender“-esque hiatus. I guess it was closer to a “mid-third season of Lost” hiatus. More irritating than ridiculously lengthy.

So, in the spirit of the New Year, new beginnings, and, as Lucille Bluth would say, “a whole new set of lies,” I’m going to kick off this post by saying that I plan on regularly contributing to good ol’ Omni (as his friends call him). No longer will I sit idly by and let my important thoughts on popular culture simply waste away in my noggin. Instead, I’m going to get back in the habit (just like Whoopi Goldberg in Sister Act II!!!) of actually posting here. Look forward to it!

Now, here’s a list of the things I hope to accomplish pop culturally in the next year. Nothing like setting goals that are both totally attainable and conducive to my lazy desires.

1) Breaking Bad- I know, I know. It’s pretty damn embarrassing that I still haven’t watched this. For some reason, the prospect of starting a new TV show is often so daunting to me that I can’t muster the energy to get the ball rolling. This show in particular never held any interest for me, despite that fact that every critic/snooty television viewer has been singing its praises since it started. It stars the dad from Malcolm in the Middle. Do you really expect me to take this seriously? But finally, after four years of unending fervor, I’m finally taking the plunge. Locking it down. Starting it up. This final bit needs more unnecessarily mixed metaphors.

Edit: Just finished the second episode of first season. This show owns me now. So glad I have no idea what’s going to happen in it.

2) Saga- Hooray! Brian K. Vaughn is finally writing comics again!!! The man behind Y: The Last Man and The Runaways took a ton of time off to go be some kinda big-shot television writer (that’s where the real glory is, after all). And while I would argue that his stint on Lost was the absolute peak of the show (late season 3 to the end of season 5), the comic world has missed him dearly. BUT, he’s coming back and his new project looks awesome. The guy himself described it as Star Wars meets Game of Thrones, so it’s not like he’s setting the bar particularly high for himself. Now if only I could figure out how to get issues mailed to Japan.

3) Prometheus- Yes, yes. We all know The Dark Knight Rises is supposed to be the high point of summer movie fare. But between Bane’s imitation of the “Little Charlie’s Pizza Machine” (congrats to the three people who understand that reference) and that ridiculous moment in the trailer with the stadium and the guy outrunning the explosions and the bad CGI and questionable physics and the whole “that was probably supposed to be really impressive, but it just looks stupid,” not to mention the fact that apparently Gotham’s football is just the Pittsburgh Steelers (come on Christopher Nolan! You didn’t even change their uniforms?!?), let’s just say that I’m tempering my expectations for that one. HOWEVER, holy crap, Prometheus looks awesome. I mean, look at it! Even if it doesn’t end up in the sci-fi pantheon like Alien/Aliens (which it’s clearly related to. I see you, Space Jockey chair), at least it’ll put a good sci-fi horror movie back in theaters. I just need to find a theater that will actually screen it in English. That’s actually more challenging than you might think.

4) Stand-up Comedy- If you’re not Louis C.K. or Patton Oswalt and you’re a stand-up comedian, odds are I have no clue who you are. This is another horribly embarassing pop culture blindspot I have that I’m intent on fixing. Any and all suggestions would be welcome (as long as they aren’t Dane Cook. That dude sucks.).

5) Japanese Pop Culture- As some followers of the blog know, I am currently teaching English in Japan. Pop culture here is as insane as we in the west think it is, if not moreso. Between the 8 different iterations of the 48-member girl pop group located throughout the country, the manga character whose superpower is ripping off parts of his face and feeding it to people, and whatever the hell this is, it is definitely… intriguing. And I want to know more about it. Expect some updates as I delve into this pop culture niche and subsequently lose my connection to reality.

Okay, that wasn’t so hard. I can definitely see this becoming a routine. In the mean time, if you feel so inclined, dear reader, post your pop culture resolutions so that I can blatantly steal them and claim them as my own.

-Kyle

dear walker,

Tue, 03 Jan 2012 03:55:00 -0500

As the dawn of the New Year is typically a time for us to lie to ourselves a bit, I figured I would spend my sick-morning working on the first of what I’m sure will be MANY fine contributions to Omnivosaurus Rex in 2012 (why does that number ring a bell?).

So here is my postcard to you from France. You, Walker, and also you, our reading public, whoever you may be at this point.

Since postcards don’t typically have that much space for text, and since Walker loves best-of lists, and since I love lists in general (almost as much as I love foreshadowing), here is a list of the top five ways how, in the last few months of 2011, my time in France has made me a better consumer of pop culture:

5. My friend, in a bout of homesickness, discovered the bluegrass covers playlist on 8tracks.com, and I subsequently discovered the entire website. (8tracks > spotify, in my opinion.)

4. You can buy tickets to basically anything in FNAC. “Oh, I’m just passing by to browse the books…” BAM! Tickets to the next show at the Chabada.

3. France loves fliers. Paperwaste be damned. At LIT-rally any public place in Angers, you can pick up leaflets with information about next week’s new film releases (and timetables), upcoming shows, free events.

2. Speaking of which, I can get into almost anything for free here… either because it is free or because I am under 26. (Suddenly being underage is a good thing?)

1. Facebook lists: more useful than google reader and twitter lists. I’ve become so paranoid about being out of the loop in France that I’ve liked, friended, whathaveyou’d every venue and organization in Angers that has a significant facebook presence… and can now read all their updates in one convenient place. Frankly, I’m a fan of pretty much all the recent additions to facebook.

So, things are going mighty well here in sunny France. Hope you’ve missed me as much as I’ve been missing you. Keep up the good work, Mr. Walker. I’ll be around.

Bisous

- Thea

Favorites from 2011: Albums

Tue, 20 Dec 2011 15:12:00 -0500

Alright, with minimal ado, here are my ten (or eleven) favorite albums I heard in 2011. I listened to a hell of a lot this year, making this list harder to compile than usual. I spent the whole damn year in the car, driving to job interviews, commuting to work, checking out apartments of various quality. In a year of life-changing transitions, music becomes even more important to me, as a constant keeping me sane no matter how unpredictable and scary life becomes.

Unlike last year, when Janelle Monae released one of my favorite albums of all time, The ArchAndroid, there isn’t one thing that stands out as a clear, number one favorite, so these are presented in no particular order. A lot of these were surprises, some by artists that I was totally unaware of before this year. Perhaps even more surprising is that veteran bands could still surprise me. Wilco’s eighth LP, and The Roots’ thirteenth LP turned out to be some of the most exciting, vital stuff they’ve ever come out with. I’ve always been of the mindset that bands tend to start strong and keep making music with diminishing returns over the years. Maybe as a young person, I was misled by the clearly incorrect notion that young bands are where innovation and change comes from, but those veteran bands showed that sometimes change comes from a bunch of amazing, aging musicians competing against their past selves to prove that they still have that same spark.

Anyway, here’s the list. It’s obviously subjective, which is why I would love to hear anyone else’s top ten and discover music I might have missed. But these are the albums from 2011 that stick with me, that told a journey, that contained those moments that make you drop whatever you’re doing and simply marvel. I hope you give these a listen and enjoy them too - my spotify playlist, featuring many favorite tracks from the year, is available here for your sampling pleasure.

Let’s dive in!

Honorable Mention: Deerhoof - Deerhoof vs. Evil

This one didn’t quite make the top ten because it’s essentially just Deerhoof doing its usual weird thing, without anything particularly new or earth-shattering. It was, however, done extremely well, with some of their most accessible, hooky songs to date, without sacrificing any of their uniqueness. “Behold a Marvel in the Darkness,” one standout, seems to be some sort of superhero anthem mixed with wistful love song. Strange, and outstanding.

———————————————————

The Top Ten

Cults - Cults

Cults is a deceptive album, hiding dark, introspective lyrics under sunshine and catchy melodies. My love for Brill-Building/Girl-Group pop songs certainly means I was predisposed to like this album, but the duo doesn’t just lift tried-and-true chord progressions - it adds a unique spin and a refreshing darkness. It’s a lot more Shangri-Las than Shirelles. All of the songs are well-crafted little gems, simple but perfect, and the songs, from opening cut “Abducted” on, deal with a lot of the more unpleasant, unseemly aspects of modern life. “Never Heal Myself,” a bouncy ode to a wounded psyche, toes that line well, but it’s the massive late-album anthem “You Know What I Mean” that fully explores that back-and-forth dynamic between poppy feel-goodery and moody introspection. It sounds like that juxtaposition would be awkward or gimmicky, but instead, the album is a sort of escapist fantasy, about keeping up an old-fashioned, optimistic attitude even in a world where it’s increasingly hard to buy into that idealism.

The Roots - Undun

This one showed up late in the year and just blew me away. It’s wildly ambitious, not only telling a narrative story but doing it chronologically backwards. The hooks throughout are massive, particularly the guest spots by neo-soul singers like Bilal. And it’s risky in the best way, ending with a bizarre art-jazz, Sufjan Stevens-infused four-part suite. Not bad for an ensemble with not only twelve previous LPs, but a day job as Jimmy Fallon’s house band. But, as with all of the Roots’ albums, it’s really ?uestlove’s party. Just listen to that drum fill that kicks in to start “The Other Side,” or his wild free-form soloing in that closing suite. I’ve read a description of The Band’s Levon Helm as “the only drummer who can make you cry,” but clearly that was from someone who never heard ?uestlove. The drumming on the album pushes everything forward with a propulsive, insistent rhythm. He’s now reached the level where his beats are indistinguishable from the classic soul hip-hop artists used to sample. He’s simply amazing, and so is the whole album.

Smith Westerns - Dye it Blonde

Here’s a classic snotty-kids-with-guitars band who just does it right. What elevates it to another level, for me, are the little touches that make some of the tracks sound like outtakes from George Harrison’s solo catalog. There’s a seventies-inspired scuzziness to the guitar lines, and artfully deployed piano lines, that evokes that post-Beatles psychedelic era. Opening track “Weekend” sets the tone well, the first of many songs that starts off one way and evolves in unexpected ways as the song goes on. Every song on this album is a small little journey, starting with an already-strong melody and developing it in new directions. There’s a restlessness there that fits their youthful persona - they seemingly have too many ideas to let a song just stay in one mood. Tracks like “Smile” show that the best is yet to come, that even when tackling heavier, slower material, the band shows that same kind of adventurousness. Of everything I heard this year, this band is the one with the most potential. I can’t wait to hear what they come up with next.

Mayer Hawthorne - How Do You Do?

Mayer Hawthorne is a nerdy white guy from Detroit who happens to be able to do a killer Curtis Mayfield impression. It’s always tricky territory when someone tries to revive classic soul sounds devoid of their political and racial context, but what lets Mayer Hawthorne dodge that thorny territory is that his second album is really a meditation on his relationship with the music he loves. It’s classic soul filtered through his life, through hip-hop, through Detroit’s subsequent collapse, dealing with the legacy of Motown instead of just pretending nothing post-Motown ever happened. Beyond my heady, pretentious views, it’s an undeniably fun album, full of great jams ideal for singing along loudly in the car. “You Called Me” might be one of the most joyful tracks of the year, but “The Walk” is the best kind of groovy. The album strikes a good balance between more serious tracks and the kind of retro-soul party jams that get the crowd moving.

Mister Heavenly - Out of Love

Mister Heavenly made an album so weird and idiosyncratic that they had to invent a new term to describe it: “doom-wop.” It sounds like a mix of hard-edged indie rock and old-school doo-wop, a combination that only these collaborators could come up with. The band includes members of The Unicorns and Man Man, and though you might think that the idiosyncratic visions of those two groups wouldn’t mesh well, they find a very interesting middle ground. Some of the songs echo the past, but with a twist, as in the case of “I Am a Hologram,” but tracks like “Pineapple Girl” or “Reggae Pie” evolve into something else entirely. It’s a great-sounding album, with an unbelievably high energy level. It honestly sounds like it could fall apart into chaos at any point, but never quite does, and that’s the mark of something special. A great surprise.

The Go! Team - Rolling Blackouts

There’s a reason my first real article for this blog was a glowing review of this album. The Go! Team throws every element imaginable into a blender and what comes out the other side sounds like an unholy blend of old educational videos, cheerleader chants, and out-of-control marching bands. It’s schizophrenic at times, changing radically between moods, but it’s never boring, and never goes where you expect. The best thing about this album, in particular, is the way it appropriates definitively un-cool genres of music and embraces their weirdness. “Super Triangle” sounds like something you would hear while watching a laserdisc in high school, while “Yosemite Theme” could pass for something piping through ancient speakers at a National Park. That willingness to experiment, to draw from even the least hip, least explored corners of functional music, makes this band so much fun, and the album is wall-to-wall insanity.

Wilco - The Whole Love

Wilco had honestly nothing to prove at this point, but this album makes a definitive statement that this is still a band that matters, a band that will push themselves to create something unique and amazing. When “Art of Almost,” already an amazing track, kicks back in after most bands would have ended it, you know that the band is swinging for the fences. It’s a great-sounding record, the first release by their self-run label, and every instrument has a phenomenal quality. You can listen all the way through the album focused just on the bass, or drums, or the keyboards, and have an equally rewarding, totally different experience each time. This is a band where any one of the members could be fronting their own band, but they combine their talents in an amazing way. Jeff Tweedy’s songwriting is at it’s Yankee Hotel Foxtrot best, oblique lyrics and all. By the time you get through the last song, an extended take where you actually hear the band in the process of learning the song, it’s hard not to be floored. It’s a document of an amazing group of musicians at the peak of their ability.

tUnE-YarDs - W H O K I L L

I didn’t quite get this one at first, but it’s definitely one where listening to a song a few times reveals interesting layers. The way the songs are constructed, a weird wall-of-sound involving seemingly endless variations of Merrill Garbus’ singing piled on top of each other, is a great showcase for the potential of the human voice to create beautiful, strange sounds. I’ll admit that as a very non-political person, the clearly political content of this album went way over my head (she hates the police I guess?) but I don’t think understanding her points is necessary to appreciating her sound, a mix of afro-beat, a cappella, and quirky indie-girl pop. Many of those things can be disastrous if done wrong, as can the ukulele, but she somehow puts it all together magnificently. An amazing piece of work, and something I predict will be one of the more influential albums to come out. Maybe that’s just wishful thinking - nothing sounds quite like this, and I want more!

Dum Dum Girls - Only in Dreams

This one makes the list entirely on the merit of two songs, embodying opposite ends of the musical spectrum. Opening cut “Always Looking” is a rollicking explosion of punky energy, mixing Kristen Gundren’s high-octane vocals, cool backup singing, and kick-ass guitar lines. Later in the album, you get “Coming Down,” an emotional peak I didn’t know this band was capable of hitting, culminating in one long, haunting note sustained by Gundren as the band smashes away melodramatically. Clearly, the glue holding together these disparate halves is Gundren’s powerhouse of a voice, but the point is that this album contained some of the best straight-ahead rockers and some of the best ballads I heard all year, all over the course of one album. Something for everyone! Seriously great stuff.

Beyonce - 4

Oh, Beyonce. You are fantastic. Let’s run this down: opening track “1+1” kicks off a run of some knockout power ballads, some of the best Beyonce’s ever done. But what makes the album truly astounding is the sequence of tracks my friend affectionately refers to as “the killer three” - “Love On Top,” followed by “Countdown,” then “End of Time.” All three are unbelievable jams. “Love on Top” is an incredible piece of retro-soul bliss that changes keys seemingly just to highlight how undaunted Beyonce is by any challenge. “Countdown,” one of the weirdest pieces of mainstream pop all year, uses a marching band and incomprehensible lyrics about a “bouf” effectively to create something that this white boy can describe only as “bumpin.” Finally, underappreciated gem “End of Time” alternates between funky brass and a powerful blast of vocals. Those three, in sequence, combine to form an unstoppable block of incredible invention, catchiness, and soul, and they are easily my most listened-to tracks of the year. Beyonce, with this album, proves that something immensely popular can still be innovating, bold, esoteric, experimental, and just straight-up great music. 4 is Beyonce’s best album, and gives me hope that mainstream music can still be amazing.

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Alright, that’s too much of me! Please, please, please feel free to agree, disagree, debate, or suggest alternatives. I do this to share my favorites with my friends, and I want them to do the same so I can discover more music, especially stuff I’ve overlooked.

-Walker

Favorites from 2011: Songs

Tue, 06 Dec 2011 14:51:39 -0500

2011 was a crazy year for me full of big life changes. It was also full of some terrific music, and I’d like to share what meant the most to me this year. So without further ado, here are picks for top songs of the year.

Did I say “without further ado”? I should have said, “and now, some ado”! Bear with me here. The usual disclaimers apply: this is obviously just one man’s opinion and I’m not going to argue that it’s anything more than that (hence labeling the list “favorites” rather than “best of 2011”). Considering that I am someone who who organizes my closet regularly and to an excessive degree, it should surprise nobody that I enjoy the list-making process. The fun of sharing a list, however, is twofold. First, as always, it’s part of my number one goal when writing about music - to expose people to stuff they might not have heard and could love. Second, I enjoy the dialogue at the end of the year, and seeing what other people peg as their personal preferences. So, dear internet, drop me a line or a comment or an email with your opinions on the subject. I know people on the internet usually don’t have strong opinions, but I figure it’s worth asking just in case.

Two more disclaimers:

1) These are in no particular order, because honestly what’s the qualitative difference between your fourth favorite song of the year and your fifth?

2) In the next couple of days I will publish my favorite albums of the year - anything from those albums is ineligible from this list. So these aren’t necessarily my absolute favorite songs of the year (notice the absence of Beyonce’s “Love on Top”) but they are standout tracks from albums that didn’t quite make my personal top ten.

OK - read, listen, enjoy, share, argue. Here we go.

“It Takes Time To Be A Man” - The Rapture (from In The Grace Of Your Love)

It’s hard to believe such a simple song could be so powerful. The track is pretty much one very simple little riff, looped over and over. A little guitar, a tinkle of a piano line, a touch of bass. It’s what they do on top of that foundation which makes this so compelling. The song makes you wait for it, but when the ecstatic cacophony of harmonies finally explodes, it’s pretty undeniable. I can’t say for certain what the song’s about, but it has a powerfully bittersweet mood, and some simple yet effective lyrics, that lend it some gravity. Plus, they bring back the very cheesy 80’s-pop saxophone featured elsewhere on the album for one more good/bad solo. If there’s one thing I love, it’s some awesomely cheesy sax. It’s elegiac and catchy, a song to accompany dusk if ever there was one.

“Breaking Down” - Florence and the Machine (from Ceremonials)

I’ve heard arguments that Florence Welsh’s lyrics can be a little inscrutable, her songs a little bombastic, her arrangements too busy. This song embodies all three of those criticisms, and works perfectly. Of all the songs on her latest album, this is the one where the elements congeal most agreeably. It’s still recognizably a pop song, but with some weird chord progressions and a hook of sorts floating out of a detuned piano. Mostly, though, this is a song where the arrangement doesn’t interfere with the biggest strength of the group - Florence’s voice. “The Machine” is effectively a delivery system to get her mighty singing in your ears with maximum oomph, and a song like this, driving forward with simple lyrics and a thumping beat, is the track where the group best figures out how to let the complexity of the music serve the emotional core of the song. All that sounds technical and dry, so maybe I could better explain it as the most chill-inducing track I heard all year.

“Time Spent In Los Angeles” - Dawes (from Nothing is Wrong)

I have, interestingly, never spent even one minute of time in Los Angeles, so I can’t really speak to how successfully this song captures the feel of that city. Nonetheless, it’s a beautiful, catchy track, owing obvious debts to classic roots-rockers like The Band or The Eagles. It jangles along amiably, and, as many of the songs that made this list, has a distinctive mood to it. There’s nothing revolutionary in the songcraft, just a well-written ode to a city that utilizes some great group vocals.

“Henry Don’t Got Love” - Le Butcherettes (from Sin Sin Sin)

People say that pop music isn’t really bold or dangerous anymore, but Le Butchettes seemingly undercut that notion (or, maybe the fact that they are still relatively unknown supports it). The band writes short, weird songs - vaguely political, seemingly pissed-off, and always filled with raging guitars. This song exemplifies what they do best. You can’t really figure out what’s going on, but it feels cool and transgressive. And, in some of the deranged songbird melodies floating in and out of all the chaos, there’s a hint of beauty. I think that’s why this band stands out from some of their heavier-thrashing brethren: little moments suggesting a beautiful melody hidden within all the punk posturing. It’s hard to find more intensity than this band achieves when firing on all cylinders.

“Video Games” - Lana Del Rey (single)

I have literally no interest in chiming in on this horrible debate over whether Lana Del Rey is too beautiful/fake/corporate to be good. I’m just tired of it, and have nothing to add. However, the face that launched a thousand pitchfork comments has undeniable talent. Like the 60’s chanteuse icons she idolizes, she has a way of delivering a song in a way that is highly distinctive and highly effective without being accessibly, obviously emotive. The gorgeous string arrangements add to the retro charm of the piece, and the lyrics are full of hazily-formed imagery that matches the faded-out vibe. We’re going to all have to have a lot of arguments about her in 2012, but this song, taken in isolation, is a gem.

“Dig A Little Deeper” - Peter, Bjorn & John (from Gimme Some)

Hard to intellectualize this one, it’s just insanely infectious, the biggest earworm of the year (except perhaps that new Rihanna single). These guys just scream fun and dare to be unabashed, sugary pop in an era where that ambition is less and less respectable. If you can listen to this song without singing along at some point, I would be shocked. It’s just bouncy to an absurd degree, the soundtrack for turning around any bad day. A song you literally cannot listen to on headphones, because the gleeful head-bopping/strutting/silly dancing that will inevitably follow will make you seem like a crazy person to unknowing passers-by.

“Civilization” - Justice (from Audio, Video, Disco)

The most danceable, club-ready, drive-around-at-night-with-your-windows-down thing I’ve heard in ages. Justice, seemingly questing to write something more memorable than their monster hit “D.A.N.C.E.,” discovered their proggy side and resurrected the most outlandish synth sounds they could. It’s a song that ridiculously tries to encompass all of civilization into a monster dance party, reaching for the most grandiose concept enthusiastically, without really caring if they fall short. It’s somehow very smart and very stupid at the same time, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Sad Girls” - Big Troubles (from Romantic Comedy)

This one flew under the radar a bit, because they aren’t really breaking new ground here. But the whole album was full of solid, earnest 90’s boy alterna-rock. It’s dreamy and a little nostalgic, with lyrics that offer sincerity with just a hint of self-awareness. But really it all comes down to songwriting 101: the chorus has a lovely chord progression, and they pull of a nice little key change. The same things that made Burt Bacharach a star still hold true, which is kind of refreshing. Just a good song, especially for a rainy day.

“Black” - Danger Mouse & Daniele Luppi featuring Norah Jones (from Rome)

This one, I’ll admit, likely made the cut because I will forever associate it with the mind blowing final moments of Breaking Bad’s season finale (watch here, but SPOILERS, obviously). It’s a lovely song, though, with a subtly funky beat and some super-laid back vocals by Norah Jones. I’ve never loved her stuff in the past, but this makes me think that she’s got the talent, and just needs to find the right collaborators to make magic happen. The whole album, a weird spaghetti western/pop-fusion passion project by Danger Mouse, is full of great stuff, but this is the standout track (sorry, Jack White). What strikes me in particular is the subtlety of everything - the orchestral arrangements are lush and sophisticated, but always done with precision. Unlike less experienced arrangers, Luppi doesn’t let his excitement for any instrument or instruments cloud his judgement and end up with an overblown production. It’s just a bunch of very well-performed, interlocking parts all serving the overarching goal of making a perfect little song.

“Our Day Will Come” - Amy Winehouse (from Lioness: Hidden Treasures)

Obviously, losing Amy Winehouse was a major blow to the music world, and a major loss. Her legacy was already felt during her lifetime - the massive crossover ubiquity of Adele’s album wouldn’t be possible without the success of Back to Black, nor would any of the soul revivalists I enjoy so much be enjoying the audience they’ve found. Lioness was a mixed bag, as one would expect with a cobbled-together posthumous release, but this track was a standout. Her take on the Ruby and the Romantics classic reminds us of everything she did best. There’s a retro-fun playfulness to the piece - as always, her fusion of doo-wop harmonies, classic soul delivery, and hip hop beats creates something that feels contemporary yet timeless. Her taste and style will likely be as large a part of her legacy as her vocals. And this is certainly one of the finest performances by that incredible voice - dripping with emotion, jazzy phrasing, and liveliness. It’s an optimistic, hopeful song made bittersweet by her absence. A beautiful parting gift from an iconic star. I can only assume her legacy will grow over time. It’s sad to think that we’ve heard the last from her.

Those are some of my songs of the year. Check back soon for the main event - top ten albums - and some sillier lists to follow.

My New Years resolution should be to try writing some short articles next year, am I right?

-Walker

Don't Let Them Take It From You: Why I Love the "Souls" Games Part 1

Fri, 25 Nov 2011 19:16:02 -0500

Two Christmases ago, I gave you my heart, but the very next day I took it back and invested it in Demon’s Souls, developed by From Software and published by Namco Bandai. It’s a brutal work of dark fantasy and stoic mysticism expressed in the form of a Japanese role-playing game (RPG).

To give the uninitiated context, typical RPGs are by-and-large the sci-fi/fantasy equivalent of rags-to-riches dime novels: lowly servant boy (girl) becomes hero(ine) of universe by accidentally stumbling upon a lost power to which they are mysteriously yet inextricably linked (this is basically the plot of Rogue Galaxy and White Knight Chronicles). Alternatively, your personality-deprived stock protagonist ventures forth to save a love he can only acquire by bashing through socioeconomic class strata with the help of talented and often more compelling friends (every Final Fantasy game ever). Worlds are vibrant and varied, but despite seemingly overwhelming odds, interactions with other characters in the game are pretty mundane. No one seems that worried about the impending destruction of the planet, or the crazed genetic experiment bent on eliminating human scum. It’s bizarre, but it’s kind of part of the implicit bargain you enter when you buy a video game: you will beat the game, and somehow every tiny little sprite on the screen knows it before you do.

In Demon’s Souls, From subverts most of these subtle cracks in the fourth wall by getting rid of almost every typical non-playable character (NPC). You edit your character, and are briefed pretty briskly on the story: the ruling elite used the power of demons’ souls to gain power and fucked up. A colorless fog has enveloped the land to your north, no one’s ever come back, the fog drives people insane, so don’t expect a warm welcome. There’s also the part in which it’s explained that you’ve been commissioned by the Monumental, the last survivor of a creepy looking race of eternal children, to expel the fog, and you can’t ever leave the extradimensional nexus to which you’ve been transported until you do. Tough shit, man, you just enlisted in the “Save Boletaria” army, and you’re the only soldier in it. Almost as soon as you enter the first world, shit gets real.

The atmosphere is really where Demon’s Souls really twists the RPG trope into a frustrating yet darkly compelling game. You are the only one cognizant of the impending despair of the world because you are one of a handful left alive. There aren’t may helpful strangers, and the help they provide is purely for character enhancement. There’s no colored-text hints (thanks, Zelda series) or comlinked assistants. The nexus houses a blacksmith, some people that teach you magic, the woman who brought you into this godforsaken hellscape, and Stockpile Thomas, a guy who lets you store your excess stuff in his boxes. His famous signoff—“You’ve got a heart of gold, don’t let them take it from you”— is the sole sympathy the game provides. The other NPCs scattered throughout the world are insane to the point of hostility or drowning in the misery they once sought to vanquish (the fucked up part is that immediately after watching this dude commit suicide, you have to fight his ghost).

Boletaria is devoid of hope, and there are no overtures of heroism ascribed to your character, either. Players can release one NPC from a prison in an enchanted penal colony, only to watch him pick off everyone else in the Nexus; if that’s too indirect, players can start freeing everyone in the Nexus from the mortal coil, turning “character tendency” to “pure black” and prompting the appearance of Mephistopheles, an androgynous agent of evil who tasks you to kill others so she can keep “the secret of souls” safe. There’s a stunning moment that drives it all home preceding one of the most difficult boss fights I’ve experienced in my gaming tenure. The king who started all of this shit has put a demon doppelganger in his place, and the false king sits overlooking a shattered gray landscape from the rubble of the throne room. Other bosses are more terrifying or upsetting in concept (one was originally a saint of the world that went into a valley where Boletaria had been dumping its refuse and infants deemed too weak to live, but was corrupted by the power she used to try and save the people there. The music during her fight, in which you fight her bodyguard, sounds like the alternate score to Halloween), but that moment channels the alluring defeat of this world.

With few glimmers of humanity in Boletaria, Demon’s Souls goes back to the reason video games were invented to inject optimism into the world. Players in human form can summon other players on the server in soul form to wordlessly cooperate through levels. It’s a wonderful mechanic, if plagued by technical issues (summon failures are common). The thing I hate most about the FPS craze overtaking mainstream gaming is that they basically encourage people to be as shitty as possible, even while playing on the same team. Demon’s Souls removes the possibility of abusive interaction between players by making the only communication system a series of gestures. They can serve as taunts, greetings, or directional commands, but that’s about it. There’s also a message system, but it has a preset vocabulary (which unfortunately includes “Sticky white stuff” to warn players or spider enemies, which was of course bastardized in use to account for any remotely sexual situation in the game). I think I solo’d every boss at least once (braggggg), but the latter quarter of my game clock was spent helping other players with bosses. It’s a ton of fun and reminds me of the few times I slept over at houses of friends with a Nintendo—trading off the controller to beat a level, or something like that. Keeping the multiplayer purely cooperative would be too friendly, though. Players can also invade your game, working in concert with enemies to kill you and resulting in some pretty hectic duels.

Anyway, this series of games has shaped how I consume video games (along with the Devil May Cry series), so I will probably continue to write about them. Hope everyone’s Thanksgiving was great.

—Smith

Finally, It's Time for Christmas Jams!

Fri, 25 Nov 2011 00:05:31 -0500

Hello Internet.

It’s been awhile. But I’ve been busy. Life happens! Life finds a way (never too busy for Jurassic Park). I shipped off to NYC and back to premiere a piece of music my friend and I wrote, I went to see The Bynars play a show at T.T. the Bear’s, I closely followed the saga of those “Super Bass” girls, I got sucked into the endless, delicious abyss of The Millionaire Matchmaker. In short, I’ve done everything but write.

Thanksgiving seems the ideal time to get back into the game. Mostly because at last I can discuss the impending wonderfulness of Christmas without drawing the anger of those who scoffed at me when I started making my shopping list in mid-October. October was a stressful month for me, so one day, in a moment of weakness, I put on some Christmas music to get through the day. Once the floodgates were open, I couldn’t stop. Christmas is just such a phenomenal concept - you get to go shopping for your friends, eat all the best food, enjoy snow, and generally feel warm magic all around you. In short, it’s fantastic, and I wish it was Christmas today.

It’s a month-and-a-half long holiday of gradually-building anticipation, so it’s important to have a really killer seasonal playlist for accompanying midnight car rides home from holiday parties. I won’t list the whole thing here, but consider these my essential Christmas jams. If we’re being brutally honest, the process of eating an entire roll of those incredible Trader Joe’s candy cane Joe-Joes is my jam, but listening to these songs comes close to approximating that feeling.

“Christmas Wrapping,” by The Waitresses, is a great song by any standard, not just the (admittedly) lower standard of what constitutes good Christmas music. It’s got an instantly memorable riff, a strange cacophony of horns, and fun patter-song vocals. It’s way too long, but nearly earns that length by telling an actual story with a beginning, middle, and end (something most bands only pull off with more than a dash of pretentiousness or, God forbid, a double-disc concept album (except that when The Who made concept albums, it was still cool, so they are excluded from my generalizations)). Most pieces of Christmas entertainment fall definitively into one of two camps - (a) Christmas is amazing and fills our hearts with joy, or (b) Christmas is a melancholy holiday full of disappointment and sad self-reflection. Both can be done well, but what I like about this song is that it more closely resembles the experience of a normal person, jumping back and forth between feeling stressed by the holiday and enjoying it. As an internal monologue, it works pretty well. I think it will resonate with anyone who has ever considered checking out of the whole Christmas thing entirely, only to rediscover what makes it a special time of year.

(Yes, I realize a lot of sentimental garbage is mixed in with my writing, but honestly, if you’re not that into the magic of Christmas, I would find it odd that you’ve read this far into the article).

Now, I’m sure when I say that I love Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas is You,” people who know me would assume I’m being silly or ironic. And while I’ll admit that the campiness and the lack of restraint in the production increase my enjoyment of the song, I maintain that it really is a good song, or at least good enough to listen to as a guilty pleasure. It’s written with old-fashioned chord progressions, and wouldn’t really be out-of-place on any of the 60’s Christmas songs by The Ronettes or The Crystals. Sure, the sentiment is tacky, but you kind of get swept up by it! I’m realizing now that I have little ammunition in trying to convincingly justify why I like this song. But I’ll leave it at this - something that aims to please this obviously isn’t necessarily inherently horrible. Admit it: when this comes on the radio and no one else is around, you kind of love it.

My last pick is this version of “O Holy Night,” originally performed by Trombone Shorty on an episode of Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip. Now, let’s get this straight. Studio 60 was a dreadful, terrible, awful show, in ways that Nathan Rabin explains better than I ever could. Even the scene that first introduced this excellent arrangement was a well-meaning, but misguided piece of sentiment ham-handedly thrown in by Aaron Sorkin to make the audience forget how uninteresting his characters were. And yet, there are few recordings more moving, few more shiver-inducing, than this one. The instruments combine perfectly in a way to create a somber, spiritual mood throughout, until the soaring trumpet runs in the final few cadences elevate the proceedings into the stratosphere. If anything captures what it feels like in December to reflect back, gathering up all the victories, defeats, and indelible moments that made up the past year, this is it.

There are more, but those are the three best. Enjoy them with some egg nog and let the spirit of the season wash over you!

-Walker

Eleven Number Elevens for 11/11/11

Thu, 10 Nov 2011 23:59:23 -0500

Today’s a very special day, because going by the arbitrary number system we humans use to make time comprehensible, the numbers line up. It’s 11/11/11 - somewhere, some kid is turning eleven years old, which must be just mind-blowing. NPR Music put together a typically fantastic program celebrating the numerological quasi-holiday by assembling songs that must be cranked up to eleven for maximum enjoyment. In that vein, I’m posing another fun musical question to consider - what are the best eleventh tracks on albums? (I am excluding, of course, best-ofs). The way these things tend to time out, many of the selections I picked are album-closers, which makes them sort of obvious choices since, of course, smart musicians go out on a strong selection. But some others are interesting in the way that they deliver a late-album pickup, a burst of energy well after the novelty of what you’re hearing may have worn off. So make a little playlist of these eleven tunes and listen to it eleven times or something. Other suggested 11/11/11 celebration - refusing to get out of bed until 11:11.

As always, the overlying theme of this article is just a flimsy excuse to talk about some tracks I really like. It turns out that at least a few of my absolute favorite songs of all time are elevens, so I’m glad to have the opportunity to share them.

1. ”I Shall Be Released” - The Band, Music from Big Pink

Bob Dylan and The Band were such backwards-looking nostalgists that pretty much everything they wrote together was an attempt to write songs that could pass as folk traditionals passed down generation to generation. This and “The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down” come closest to achieving that. It’s a gorgeous song, and an exercise in simplicity. There’s not a single unnecessary word in the thing. And that frankly bizarre falsetto performance by Richard Manuel is haunting in the best way possible.

2. “Hypnotise” - The White Stripes, Elephant

This one’s a barn-burner, eh? True story - my brother and I used to play Starfox 64 through while listening to Elephant and try to time it just right so that Andross’ base would explode right at that cool moment in this song where the drums smash back in. We were pretty cool! Middle school was a pretty cool time where every get-together with my friends inevitably featured this album as the soundtrack. It’s pretty great, but there’s just nothing interesting or objective for me to add. For me, it will always be that album that was the most badass thing I’d ever heard when I was thirteen. And, perhaps because the album is ambitious at points, I think this song and “Ball And Biscuit,” as the straight-ahead rocker and slow blues jam, respectively, were important as a statement of identity. It’s a song that features all of the core values of the group - chiefly loudness and primal drumbeats.

3. “Tea for the Tillerman” - Cat Stevens, Tea for the Tillerman

A contender not only for this list, but also the list of amazing songs that are only one minute or less. It shares a lot of virtues with “I Shall Be Released” - like that song, it creates some convincing imagery in very few lines. Maybe it takes a very short little song to capture the bigness of what it’s trying to sell. It’s a miniature slice of life as people go about their daily tasks, made even more fleeting by the way it disappears just as quickly as it appears. I love the trend of ending the album with a little coda, and wish more artists would try it.

4. “Don’t Do Drugs” - Danger Mouse & Jemini, Ghetto Pop Life

I don’t know where they found that sample, but it’s hilarious and very catchy.

5. “Rock and Roll Suicide” - David Bowie, The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars

I have nothing to say about this song. It’s made me cry before, and is perfect. Just listen to it - it speaks for itself.

6. “She’s a Rejector” - Of Montreal, Hissing Fauna, Are You the Destroyer?

Not much to say about this one. It’s an indie-funk rager that happens to have some bizarre lyrics addressing gender politics and ambiguous sexuality. In other words, it’s an Of Montreal song.

7. “If You Call” - Sharon Jones & The Dap-Kings, I Learned the Hard Way

There’s just so much to appreciate here. Ms. Jones’ delivery, of course. The pounding waltz feel used like a ticking clock pounding away as she waits to hear from her lover. But best of all, I think, is how the song chooses to deploy those mighty Dap-King horns. The song takes a hot-and-cold approach, letting them sit out for awhile so that their entrances are always big, goosebump-inducing moments. The arrangement, from the strings to the broadway-style belter of a finale, makes it a cinematic little story all on its own. I once heard Ms. Jones describe this song as not only an expression of romantic longing, but spiritual/existential longing as well - waiting to hear from God (or whoever) to get some clear answers to a burning question. In her case, she waited for years to get that call - only late in life has she been able to unleash her talent onto the world. So it’s not only a great song in its own right, but a little autobiographical as well.

8. “Rave On” - Cults, Cults

I enjoyed the debut album by Cults immensely upon first listen. It’s definitely going to pop up on my best-of-2011 list. So, I interpret the title as a promise by the band that they’re going to return for a sophomore album and keep it going. It’s also a surprisingly uplifting little number considering that most of what comes before it is, though catchy, certainly dark in thematic matter. I’m still wrapping my head around this one, but it’s a good track and a very hooky album everyone needs to hear.

9. ”I Can’t Make It Alone” - Dusty Springfield, Dusty in Memphis

I can’t find this one on YouTube for some reason, which is honestly a crime since it’s a showstopper. Just unbelievable. All of Dusty in Memphis is dripping with emotion and perfectly-delivered songs, but what you have to admire here is the way she sings the song right on the edge of schmaltz without ever crossing that line into campy delivery. She knows when to pull back, and that makes it pull on the heartstrings that much more.

10. “Mean Mr. Mustard” - The Beatles, Abbey Road.

Have you guys heard of this band, The Beatles? Anyway, this song is a snippet from that medley that makes all other pop music recorded since then seem woefully inadequate.

11. “Life in a Glass House” - Radiohead, Amnesiac

Certainly an excellent album-closer, particularly since I think it far outstrips everything preceding it on Amnesiac. Radiohead’s little dabble into New Orleans funeral brass is so sublime it makes me wish they had recorded more with this configuration of instruments. As usual for Radiohead, I can’t clearly explain what their thought process was in deciding to combine this traditional Americana with paranoid ramblings, but it strangely works. The song works for me because the overwhelmingly busy sound of the clarinet, trombone and trumpet improvising over each other (while that piano pounds on) sounds like the chaos of modern life threatening to drown out everything else. “There’s someone listening in” mutters Thom Yorke. Like Gene Hackman’s character in The Conversation, he knows all too well how easy it is for every private moment to end up recorded somewhere. And he’s right! We are listening in, which is both a clever little touch and a nice way of making the audience feel a little uncomfortable.

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So there you have it - a list that varies wildly both in musical style and the coherence with which I try to recommend them. Enjoy your eleven-filled day, and start counting down to 12/12/12 when maybe I’ll do this again.

-Walker

Musing on Parks & Rec

Thu, 10 Nov 2011 16:22:22 -0500

Omnivosaurs: has Parks & Rec successfully buried the idea of jumping the shark by showcasing two characters whose job is essentially to jump the shark every episode? Is it some masterful feint, a gambit that grizzled veterans initially disdain but later begrudgingly respect? It seems that way, now that The Office is billed as “following” Parks & Rec.

"Behold, I make all things new."

Mon, 07 Nov 2011 23:08:00 -0500

In a mania which has its inception in a Facebook group chat, you will now be updated on everything I’ve been consuming in the past like five months. I can’t believe it’s November already; somewhere in the contract for my job must have been a hidden clause about entering the Twilight Zone and warping through dimensions at the most stressful, 30-hour work weekend pace possible. The brief will be in bullet form, because the deputy likes dots, and I no longer understand things not in business deliverable form. If I could make this an Excel spreadsheet or type “memorandum” at the top, I would.

I wrote a post reviewing the Horrible Crowes’ debut Elsie, and tumblr deleted it.. It’s a stellar breakup album, mostly because Brian Fallon (of Gaslight Anthem fame) learned to ur-emote and slowly doles out glimpses of what living his feeling-drenched life. There’s a moment where having the post-breakup crush is equated to spiritual emancipation in classic Brian Fallon “I’m going to borrow from other songs now” style: “If you should go there before I do/God’s gonna trouble the water/I’ve got a crush on you.” Fallon always seems to parry and riposte the threat oversincerity; there are no moments of hyperbole, although his songwriting is sometimes tired. To save it all, though, their cover of Concrete Blonde’s “Joey” is fucking flattening. I listen to on repeat for sad times.
Walker’s going to regret spurring me to post: I’ve recently discovered how Fall Out Boy’s debut full-length Take This to Your Grave is all-killer no-filler. There is not a bad song on the album, and it reminds me why I got into pop-punk to start: in the earnestness of young men tuning in drop D and making trivial problems seem like world-shattering crises in song, there is buried a shard of a trying time in every human’s life: being a nascent teenager and trying to make sure you’re cool. Songs like “Saturday” perfectly capture late November weekends for me. At that point in a typical high school year, I had finished cross country, so I didn’t have anything to do, and every Saturday was some strange promise of freedom: “all these open doors were open ended.” Since work has loomed over my tiny little world like a voracious Galactus, I have started turning to relics of my high school years to remember that life is basically just a cycle of stressful things, and it is often a relief to hardcore-dance and put your fist in the air to statements like “I’m eighteen going on extinct.” I’m almost 23, but I’m a little emo kid at heart. “I read about the afterlife, but I never really lived.” It’s a manifesto for being young and whiny and probably, in the large scheme of things, melodramatic and totally unaware that girls not talking to you on instant messenger is definitely something from which you bounce back. Throughout time, though, our troubles are all the same, and the sense that I conquered being a teenager helps me get through deposition review.
Quick run-through of old bands that I am discovering, and key tracks: Small Towns Burn a Little Slower, “Rx (Drive);” Alexisonfire, “Happiness by the Kilowatt;” Bouncing Souls, “Todd’s Song.” The lattermost is pretty sad, and I can’t figure out why I listen to so many songs about suicide, but it hits like a brick: “I’ll see you when we all come home.” Pop-punk kick much (this is why I never post; everything I listen to doesn’t sound like something you guys would like)?
I fucking love Three Days of the Condor.
A lot of my non-work time has been sunk in Dark Souls, the spiritual successor to 2009’s masterpiece of brutally cerebral video game design, Demon’s Souls. From Software, the developer, attained a fair amount of praise and infamy for making Demon’s Souls so difficult. The 2009 game was a prototypical role-playing piece: a deep fog encased the kingdom of Boletaria, driving its inhabitants insane and swallowing its rulers in a prurient rush of greed for the souls of others. The game was punishingly hard: you couldn’t pause; the game’s currency (souls) was used for everything from leveling up to repairing equipment, and the requirements for upgrading your stats were usurious; dying caused you to lose all progress in a level as well as any souls accumulated and put you in “soul form” at half health; there were a scant few non-playable characters (NPCs); and the bosses were twisted works of fantasy that were a joy to behold and a frustrating hell against which to struggle. The world is devoid of hope, and the only tutelage you receive toward success is the combined experience of millions of deaths. The boss music is often unsettling. Dark Souls is really a rehash of the same concepts, but with intriguing level design. The story is less compelling, but the sheer volume of creatively designed enemies makes up for it. I will probably follow this up with an entire post, because I’m doing a terrible job of conveying how influential Demon’s Souls was on my appreciation for video games as an art form.
Books on tap: In the Garden of Beasts by Erik Larson and the sixth and final trade of Akira.

Anyway, that’s what’s been on my plate. As with Demon’s Souls, I’ll probably follow each of these up with a real post, but until then, feel free to explore and ask me questions about why I like this stuff! Please!

-Smith