It's been a while but things have been coasting by smoothly so my need to discuss white boy blues has been dwindling. I'm reading regularly again which will make you feel a lot better about yourself than sitting around looking at the internet.
Yesterday I walked past the Center for Visual Arts on campus and someone spray painted "Imprison Perception" on the side of the building and I thought to myself, "what the fuck does that even mean." (The answer is nothing). And then I thought about the D4 song "Putting the 'F' back in 'Art'" and I think they're onto something. People are taking this shit way too seriously. All of them. Everything.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
The National - High Violet
When you’re in love with a band, there is always this thick tension that comes with a new album. Is it better for a new album to show a band that’s trying to change or is it better to hear more of the same? It is impossible to reach any sort of consensus because of the different reasons there are to fall in love with a band. Bands continue to write the same exact record over again because of that shared emotional attachment between author and listener. You want the same songs from certain people. You want Alkaline Trio to stay the same because you can’t wait for that new song that hit you like “Bleeder” what you look for with each new Trio album is that song that hits your heart strings. The Replacements are the same way.
But what about the moment when that band branches out and tries for something new? The Replacements are giving you something like “Alex Chilton” and a music video and you’re thinking “fuck you, this is not ‘Unsatisfied.’” Sometimes you’ll never get over that “fuck you” reaction. You dump Against Me! and then get really really pissed off about all the people that love New Wave. This band has pissed you off enough to where you hate everything about them. I fucking hate Tom Gabel. Fuck that guy. I have heard multiple sources providing solid, justifiable reasons for why they’re cool with Tom Gabel doing what he’s doing right now, but fuck him. He sold out.
And people hated so many bands that have now become accepted into the lexicon. Kids love the Replacements now, even though Don’t Tell A Soul was an attempt to get famous and, at the time, ostracized them from whatever longstanding fan base they still had left. And while there are those guys who get famous and get to move on based on record sales: Green Day. Against Me! There are the guys that struck out. Paul Westerberg. Those guys get nothing, everyone turned on them. And now people get it and Westerberg throws his hands up in the air because he’s done with that band. [The Replacements will never re-unite. Chris Mars will never feel the need to do it, and Paul Westerberg knows that. That’s why he keeps saying “there’s no Mats without Chris Mars.” Asshole.]
The National’s 2007 release Boxer is a record that I care about like nothing else. Matt Berninger has continued to explain the last three years of my life to me as I’m going through it. And it comes in the most gorgeous delivery. His voice is one of the most distinct, strong, and commanding in music today. His surrealist imagery and affinity for killer one-liners is fucking gorgeous:
Looking for somewhere to stand and stay
I leaned on the wall and the wall leaned away
Can I get a minute of not being nervous
and not thinking of my dick
My leg is sparkles, my leg is pins
I better get my shit together, better gather my shit in
You could drive a car through my head in five minutes
from one side of it to the other
The fourth through ninth tracks on that album are all absolutely perfect. I don’t see a single flaw in lyric, muscial compliment, sequence. The prodcution of this album was without flaw. Well thought out layers, it sounds big, but not too big. Perfection.
I figured that this band had absolutely found their peak. This sound, the sound of those five songs was the point where they had everything they could possibly have down. Everything you hear on Sad Songs For Dirty Lovers and Alligator is just a prologue to that moment in my opinion. For twenty minutes, they have everything down. In their pockets. They knew what they were doing and how to do it.
Then I saw them at Pitchfork and they opened their set with “The Runaway” and I was nearly in tears watching this song that I had never heard before. It was everything that was beautiful about “Start A War” only even more perfectly contained. The imagery. The repetition (there is nothing but one-liners in the song repeated over and over. Every fucking line is something that a good writer would cream their pants over. You would try and base a song around any one of them.) The sound swells so well with those interweaving base guitar tracks, the rhythm section floats and coming in and out are horns and strings and all of this comes together slowly. It’s the most steady and moving build up that I think I’ve ever heard.
I was pretty convinced by the end of hearing this song that I was watching the new “best band in America” on stage at one of the biggest music festivals in the country. And while Pitchfork had lauded the band in their reviews, they weren’t nearly as popular with the fans. And when they came out and played that song, I was in awe both at the progress and (what seemed to me) like a general consensus that this band had hit one of the most excited strides any of us had seen since The Arcade Fire showed up.
And I sat and waited for months to hear what they could possibly come up with at this point. They were on such a run coming off of Boxer and with the promise of “The Runaway” behind them and “Bloodbuzz Ohio” came and kicked us all in the dick. What a fucking killer song.
And now, finally I have the new National album and I’m only now, after 8 or 9 listens, just realizing that this is not Boxer and it never tried to be.
“Runaway” and “Bloodbuzz” are the absolute peak of the National that I know. Those songs are the sound of the National perfected. I texted my Dad and I said “The national are setting themselves up to be the best band in america.” “After spoon?” “No. Spoon isn’t even close, no one is.”
I was so excited to hear an entire album of this. These songs, this perfected sound and when it finally leaked I was so excited to have it. But when I listened to the album the first night I got it I was really mad that after several listens, there was no “Apartment Story pt. 2.” “The Runaway” and “Bloodbuzz Ohio” are the only songs that really sound like the National and I’m mad as hell about it.
But the more I listen to this record, the more I realize that there doesn’t need be a “Fake Empire pt. 2” to start the next album and the band isn’t interested in writing “Fake Empire pt. 2.” They want us to hear this song they wrote “Terrible Love.” A song that is so heavily layered and complex that listening to it, I feel slightly uncomfortable. I can’t point out instruments, the layers of percussion and noise are so dense and it keeps getting bigger. Berninger’s vocals start out confident, but they give way to the addition of layers of piano, strings, percussion, and guitar. When the band finally reaches the song’s refrain (after 2:15 of build-up) the vocals become faint and they’re pleading and desperate sounding, the command of “Fake Empire” is yielded to a discomforting, bleeding panic. By the end of this song, it doesn’t even sound like music anymore. It sounds like the end of the world. When I listen to it loud on headphones, I get nauseous.
The album is very disorienting. It’s difficult. There aren’t many standouts, hardly any singalongs, a couple songs I couldn’t give a shit about, but I’m finding little moments on the record, but it’s not The National I know, the National I know is over. They’re done writing “Fake Empire” because, even though it would be great to hear another one, what’s the fucking point? This is the record they’re supposed to make, even though everyone would have loved another Boxer, but that would have been too easy. This band is evolving and growing and my suggestion is that you do everything you can to try and grow along with them because they’re a band that consistently rewards a person who listens to their records over and over again—and that may be the most important trait for any great band. I’m still waiting to completely fall in love with High Violet. But I’m convinced that this is the album that has effectively made them the best band in America, just not for the reasons I was expecting.
But what about the moment when that band branches out and tries for something new? The Replacements are giving you something like “Alex Chilton” and a music video and you’re thinking “fuck you, this is not ‘Unsatisfied.’” Sometimes you’ll never get over that “fuck you” reaction. You dump Against Me! and then get really really pissed off about all the people that love New Wave. This band has pissed you off enough to where you hate everything about them. I fucking hate Tom Gabel. Fuck that guy. I have heard multiple sources providing solid, justifiable reasons for why they’re cool with Tom Gabel doing what he’s doing right now, but fuck him. He sold out.
And people hated so many bands that have now become accepted into the lexicon. Kids love the Replacements now, even though Don’t Tell A Soul was an attempt to get famous and, at the time, ostracized them from whatever longstanding fan base they still had left. And while there are those guys who get famous and get to move on based on record sales: Green Day. Against Me! There are the guys that struck out. Paul Westerberg. Those guys get nothing, everyone turned on them. And now people get it and Westerberg throws his hands up in the air because he’s done with that band. [The Replacements will never re-unite. Chris Mars will never feel the need to do it, and Paul Westerberg knows that. That’s why he keeps saying “there’s no Mats without Chris Mars.” Asshole.]
The National’s 2007 release Boxer is a record that I care about like nothing else. Matt Berninger has continued to explain the last three years of my life to me as I’m going through it. And it comes in the most gorgeous delivery. His voice is one of the most distinct, strong, and commanding in music today. His surrealist imagery and affinity for killer one-liners is fucking gorgeous:
Looking for somewhere to stand and stay
I leaned on the wall and the wall leaned away
Can I get a minute of not being nervous
and not thinking of my dick
My leg is sparkles, my leg is pins
I better get my shit together, better gather my shit in
You could drive a car through my head in five minutes
from one side of it to the other
The fourth through ninth tracks on that album are all absolutely perfect. I don’t see a single flaw in lyric, muscial compliment, sequence. The prodcution of this album was without flaw. Well thought out layers, it sounds big, but not too big. Perfection.
I figured that this band had absolutely found their peak. This sound, the sound of those five songs was the point where they had everything they could possibly have down. Everything you hear on Sad Songs For Dirty Lovers and Alligator is just a prologue to that moment in my opinion. For twenty minutes, they have everything down. In their pockets. They knew what they were doing and how to do it.
Then I saw them at Pitchfork and they opened their set with “The Runaway” and I was nearly in tears watching this song that I had never heard before. It was everything that was beautiful about “Start A War” only even more perfectly contained. The imagery. The repetition (there is nothing but one-liners in the song repeated over and over. Every fucking line is something that a good writer would cream their pants over. You would try and base a song around any one of them.) The sound swells so well with those interweaving base guitar tracks, the rhythm section floats and coming in and out are horns and strings and all of this comes together slowly. It’s the most steady and moving build up that I think I’ve ever heard.
I was pretty convinced by the end of hearing this song that I was watching the new “best band in America” on stage at one of the biggest music festivals in the country. And while Pitchfork had lauded the band in their reviews, they weren’t nearly as popular with the fans. And when they came out and played that song, I was in awe both at the progress and (what seemed to me) like a general consensus that this band had hit one of the most excited strides any of us had seen since The Arcade Fire showed up.
And I sat and waited for months to hear what they could possibly come up with at this point. They were on such a run coming off of Boxer and with the promise of “The Runaway” behind them and “Bloodbuzz Ohio” came and kicked us all in the dick. What a fucking killer song.
And now, finally I have the new National album and I’m only now, after 8 or 9 listens, just realizing that this is not Boxer and it never tried to be.
“Runaway” and “Bloodbuzz” are the absolute peak of the National that I know. Those songs are the sound of the National perfected. I texted my Dad and I said “The national are setting themselves up to be the best band in america.” “After spoon?” “No. Spoon isn’t even close, no one is.”
I was so excited to hear an entire album of this. These songs, this perfected sound and when it finally leaked I was so excited to have it. But when I listened to the album the first night I got it I was really mad that after several listens, there was no “Apartment Story pt. 2.” “The Runaway” and “Bloodbuzz Ohio” are the only songs that really sound like the National and I’m mad as hell about it.
But the more I listen to this record, the more I realize that there doesn’t need be a “Fake Empire pt. 2” to start the next album and the band isn’t interested in writing “Fake Empire pt. 2.” They want us to hear this song they wrote “Terrible Love.” A song that is so heavily layered and complex that listening to it, I feel slightly uncomfortable. I can’t point out instruments, the layers of percussion and noise are so dense and it keeps getting bigger. Berninger’s vocals start out confident, but they give way to the addition of layers of piano, strings, percussion, and guitar. When the band finally reaches the song’s refrain (after 2:15 of build-up) the vocals become faint and they’re pleading and desperate sounding, the command of “Fake Empire” is yielded to a discomforting, bleeding panic. By the end of this song, it doesn’t even sound like music anymore. It sounds like the end of the world. When I listen to it loud on headphones, I get nauseous.
The album is very disorienting. It’s difficult. There aren’t many standouts, hardly any singalongs, a couple songs I couldn’t give a shit about, but I’m finding little moments on the record, but it’s not The National I know, the National I know is over. They’re done writing “Fake Empire” because, even though it would be great to hear another one, what’s the fucking point? This is the record they’re supposed to make, even though everyone would have loved another Boxer, but that would have been too easy. This band is evolving and growing and my suggestion is that you do everything you can to try and grow along with them because they’re a band that consistently rewards a person who listens to their records over and over again—and that may be the most important trait for any great band. I’m still waiting to completely fall in love with High Violet. But I’m convinced that this is the album that has effectively made them the best band in America, just not for the reasons I was expecting.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Waking Up Drunk
I've been campaigning this theory lately to friends and drunkards that I've developed over the past few weeks. Essentially, it goes like this: everything comes down to that feeling you get when you're in on a joke that no one around you gets. That feeling when you're laughing really hard with a couple people about some inside joke. No one around you gets it, they never will and that sucks for them because you know how good this joke is. They will probably never get it and that's half the appeal.
This concept applies to everything that I find important. Relationships. Music. Learning to cope with the emotionless mediocricies of day to day living.
Me and my lady went to this very awkward gathering of older people that we didn't know very well for her job. We were younger than the adults by a good ten years, older than the kids by a good ten years. We coped. Stayed for about an hour and then took off and laughed the whole car ride home at the situation we were in all around. We came the conclusion that we're always gonna be weirdos and we were cool with that ["you will always be a loser and that's okay" - thanks Patrick Stickles]. We're alright.
Me and my friends talk about Dads and buttsacks and we are so out of place in this absurd college town, but shit we have a good time. In our minds we get it and nobody else does. We're also emotional wrecks who drink too much and have way too many feelings. So it goes, I guess. I think that's part of the appeal to...we have a lot of feelings. But we get that and we're happy the way we are, even when we're really pissed about the way we are.
And here's why The Replacements are the best band in the world: they were in on a joke that no one ever got to be in on except them, but it seemed so fucking funny. Getting drunk and making dicks of themselves and writing these phenomenal sloppy songs that were SO good and it didn't even seem like they were trying. They never seemed like they were trying to make anything happen up through Let It Be. It just happened and it was so beautiful and smart and witty and stupid.
[I'm going to stop here, because I have a lot to say about this subject. I'm going to come back to it, but this is going to turn into a lengthy dissertation about The Replacements.]
Like any joke, there is a life and death. Jokes get old and unfunny, sometimes to the point that you get annoyed or even angered. Friendships rust. You get pissed when Against Me! sells out or you just realize that you don't need any more than five Alkaline Trio albums, so everything after Good Mourning is pretty much negligible. You lose sight with a friend and suddenly after seeing everything eye to eye, you're just lost on each other and you're never gonna return to where you were. The joke's run its course, but hopefully you still can listen to Maybe I'll Catch Fire and say "fuck yeah" about it or see an old friend at a party and do nothing but talk to him or her for three hours and not give a shit about what's happening around you.
But there are also the jokes that continue to stay funny or the ones that open up an entire world to you and those are the ones that you hold onto.
This concept applies to everything that I find important. Relationships. Music. Learning to cope with the emotionless mediocricies of day to day living.
Me and my lady went to this very awkward gathering of older people that we didn't know very well for her job. We were younger than the adults by a good ten years, older than the kids by a good ten years. We coped. Stayed for about an hour and then took off and laughed the whole car ride home at the situation we were in all around. We came the conclusion that we're always gonna be weirdos and we were cool with that ["you will always be a loser and that's okay" - thanks Patrick Stickles]. We're alright.
Me and my friends talk about Dads and buttsacks and we are so out of place in this absurd college town, but shit we have a good time. In our minds we get it and nobody else does. We're also emotional wrecks who drink too much and have way too many feelings. So it goes, I guess. I think that's part of the appeal to...we have a lot of feelings. But we get that and we're happy the way we are, even when we're really pissed about the way we are.
And here's why The Replacements are the best band in the world: they were in on a joke that no one ever got to be in on except them, but it seemed so fucking funny. Getting drunk and making dicks of themselves and writing these phenomenal sloppy songs that were SO good and it didn't even seem like they were trying. They never seemed like they were trying to make anything happen up through Let It Be. It just happened and it was so beautiful and smart and witty and stupid.
[I'm going to stop here, because I have a lot to say about this subject. I'm going to come back to it, but this is going to turn into a lengthy dissertation about The Replacements.]
Like any joke, there is a life and death. Jokes get old and unfunny, sometimes to the point that you get annoyed or even angered. Friendships rust. You get pissed when Against Me! sells out or you just realize that you don't need any more than five Alkaline Trio albums, so everything after Good Mourning is pretty much negligible. You lose sight with a friend and suddenly after seeing everything eye to eye, you're just lost on each other and you're never gonna return to where you were. The joke's run its course, but hopefully you still can listen to Maybe I'll Catch Fire and say "fuck yeah" about it or see an old friend at a party and do nothing but talk to him or her for three hours and not give a shit about what's happening around you.
But there are also the jokes that continue to stay funny or the ones that open up an entire world to you and those are the ones that you hold onto.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Don't worry brother this will blow over
The New York Rangers are like a member of my family. I love them in a way that cannot be compared or explained. It's unconditional. I will love them no matter what happens, which I've only recently realized is something I can't say about many of the people I'm closest to. That's not to say that I don't have friends I wouldn't do anything for, let's just put it this way:
--In 2001 the Rangers acquired Eric Lindros from the Philadelphia Flyers. This mother fucker was one of the most hated people of my youth. The Rangers could not beat the Flyers for a solid 4 years, they had our number and this piece of shit was the face of the organization. In 1997 the Flyers dominated the Rangers in the Conference Finals and that series loss still stands as the most depressing loss I've ever felt from a game I wasn't involved in. And Lindros was at his best in that series. Then, after concussion problems, with everyone under the general agreement that his career was pretty much over, the Rangers traded for him. And they traded three great young guys for him, two of them are still in the NHL I think (Kim Johnsson and Jan Hlavac). It's your girlfriend sleeping with your enemy and then telling you how great it was. And I accepted it. I tried to like Eric Lindros. This shit would not stand if it were anyone else. I will always love this team.
And today I watched a stream of their last regular season game today. They win and they get the eighth spot in the playoffs, they lose and that's it. That big game that only happens in lame sports movies [question: have you ever noticed how in baseball movies the last game is always for the pennant and not the World Series? Check it. Major League, Angels In The Outfield, Rookie of The Year. Why is that?]. Henrik Lunqvist was unbelievable, 46 saves. Jody Shelley stepped up and scored the lone Rangers goal, his second of the season and the Rangers' 4th line was easily the best line on the ice for either team. Chris Drury, Marian Gaborik, Wade Redden, Michael Rosival, Ollie Jokinen--these guys who are making millions of dollars to carry this team--were complete non-factors. A couple had decent games, but not by the standards their contracts should hold them to.
And this game was a personification of every Rangers team since 2000 sans 2007 when they went to the Conference SemiFinals. Great goaltending (which wasn't really consistent til 2006), a couple role guys step up with big goals, and disappointing performances by the big names. This team has been built around big name mother fuckers that they bring in and pay a ridiculous amount of money to and get no results. Theo Fluery, Valerie Kamensky, Lindros, Jaromir Jagr (the one exception), Scott Gomez, Chris Drury, Marian Gaborik (who had a solid year, but was no where to be found today).
The formula doesn't work and I'm sick of all these attempts to try and make it happen. They need to fully rebuild. Their lineup is so top-heavy. All anyone needs to do is shut down the first two lines and they're fine. My favorite players for the past ten years (with the exception of King Henry) have been guys like Jed Ortmeyer, Blair Betts (now a Flyer, haha), Peter Pruca, Ryan Hollweg, Michael Nylander, Ryan Callahan. Guys that are carrying their weight in any way they can and producing while the spotlight is on the guys pissing their pants under the pressure. It's ridiculous and I'm not happy.
A change needs to happen and his name is Glen Sather. I want my team back, I want character. I want Mark Messier and Adam Graves and Pat Verbeek and Darren Langdon and Kim Johnsson.
--In 2001 the Rangers acquired Eric Lindros from the Philadelphia Flyers. This mother fucker was one of the most hated people of my youth. The Rangers could not beat the Flyers for a solid 4 years, they had our number and this piece of shit was the face of the organization. In 1997 the Flyers dominated the Rangers in the Conference Finals and that series loss still stands as the most depressing loss I've ever felt from a game I wasn't involved in. And Lindros was at his best in that series. Then, after concussion problems, with everyone under the general agreement that his career was pretty much over, the Rangers traded for him. And they traded three great young guys for him, two of them are still in the NHL I think (Kim Johnsson and Jan Hlavac). It's your girlfriend sleeping with your enemy and then telling you how great it was. And I accepted it. I tried to like Eric Lindros. This shit would not stand if it were anyone else. I will always love this team.
And today I watched a stream of their last regular season game today. They win and they get the eighth spot in the playoffs, they lose and that's it. That big game that only happens in lame sports movies [question: have you ever noticed how in baseball movies the last game is always for the pennant and not the World Series? Check it. Major League, Angels In The Outfield, Rookie of The Year. Why is that?]. Henrik Lunqvist was unbelievable, 46 saves. Jody Shelley stepped up and scored the lone Rangers goal, his second of the season and the Rangers' 4th line was easily the best line on the ice for either team. Chris Drury, Marian Gaborik, Wade Redden, Michael Rosival, Ollie Jokinen--these guys who are making millions of dollars to carry this team--were complete non-factors. A couple had decent games, but not by the standards their contracts should hold them to.
And this game was a personification of every Rangers team since 2000 sans 2007 when they went to the Conference SemiFinals. Great goaltending (which wasn't really consistent til 2006), a couple role guys step up with big goals, and disappointing performances by the big names. This team has been built around big name mother fuckers that they bring in and pay a ridiculous amount of money to and get no results. Theo Fluery, Valerie Kamensky, Lindros, Jaromir Jagr (the one exception), Scott Gomez, Chris Drury, Marian Gaborik (who had a solid year, but was no where to be found today).
The formula doesn't work and I'm sick of all these attempts to try and make it happen. They need to fully rebuild. Their lineup is so top-heavy. All anyone needs to do is shut down the first two lines and they're fine. My favorite players for the past ten years (with the exception of King Henry) have been guys like Jed Ortmeyer, Blair Betts (now a Flyer, haha), Peter Pruca, Ryan Hollweg, Michael Nylander, Ryan Callahan. Guys that are carrying their weight in any way they can and producing while the spotlight is on the guys pissing their pants under the pressure. It's ridiculous and I'm not happy.
A change needs to happen and his name is Glen Sather. I want my team back, I want character. I want Mark Messier and Adam Graves and Pat Verbeek and Darren Langdon and Kim Johnsson.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Donkey Lips
I'm starting to get into panic mode about the very near future. God damn job (or lack thereof). God damn place to live (or lack thereof). God damn future (you get the idea...while were on the subject of No Future, did you hear Malcolom McLaren died today? ).
Why can't someone just pay me to write about the representation of American Government in big budget action movies? I'm really good at pointing that shit out.
Why can't someone just pay me to write about the representation of American Government in big budget action movies? I'm really good at pointing that shit out.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Whenever I get bad luck I think about everything I've done leading up to this moment which could've triggered this...
...and vow never to do those things again. So that means I will never shave my head to a triple zero, listen to 1372 Overton Park by Lucero, eat lamb, and not go to church when I feel like I ought to.
Because I got a flat tire in the pouring rain heading home on 55 and after a frustrating half an hour got to drive the last 40 miles of my trip home going about 50 since I was on a donut [or is it doughnut?]. Cool.
But all's well that ends well cause my roommates are watching Street Fighter, so Ima go join em.
Because I got a flat tire in the pouring rain heading home on 55 and after a frustrating half an hour got to drive the last 40 miles of my trip home going about 50 since I was on a donut [or is it doughnut?]. Cool.
But all's well that ends well cause my roommates are watching Street Fighter, so Ima go join em.
Friday, April 2, 2010
I was carried to Ohio in a swarm on bees
I went to the Rock n Roll Hall of Fame today and saw pieces of Otis Redding's aeroplane. A little bit much doncha think?
Also, two nights ago was Boiling Over's last show and they played the perfect last set. 8 or so minutes. Sloppy as shit. They didn't finish their last song because Tyler did a dive off his drum set during the breakdown of "American Dream". It made me feel alive.
And it was cool hanging around a bunch of friends who are in their first year out of college. "This shit's weird, isn't it?" "I know, it's really fucking weird."
Also, two nights ago was Boiling Over's last show and they played the perfect last set. 8 or so minutes. Sloppy as shit. They didn't finish their last song because Tyler did a dive off his drum set during the breakdown of "American Dream". It made me feel alive.
And it was cool hanging around a bunch of friends who are in their first year out of college. "This shit's weird, isn't it?" "I know, it's really fucking weird."
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