Saturday, October 01, 2005
I will admit to being a bit suspicious about the Voice's review of the Bratz: Rock Angels album at first, but it gets good, even if it can't bring itself to actually endorse the album. (Yes, yes, the lyrics are horrible, but really, do they matter?) Give it a read. And get yourself that album already!
posted by Mike B. at 4:27 PM
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Saw Electric Six last night and it was pretty fantastic; "Rock 'n' Roll Evacuation" might be my concert moment of the year, not only for The Moment, but for the anticipation of The Moment, plus the fact that the rest of the concert (like the rest of their songs) tended to employ pretty uniform dynamics, so when there was that brief break, no one was prepared for it and it was able to cut through without the usual intrusions of cheers and "woo"s that break up any attempt at a quiet moment at live shows. Alternately, I was rocking out so hard that there was some huge animal rampaging through the room and I failed to notice. Miss Clap and I were, we were told, the only ones rocking out to "Jimmy Carter," but we were seriously rocking out, so it's OK. Before the third verse I yelled, "Now tell us about Ronald Reagan!" and then when he did the kind of toolish guys around us gave me high-fives, which made me feel bad. But then he said the slouching toward Bethlehem line and it was all OK. Man that song's good. Dick Valentine didn't look anything like I expected him to. Kind of looked like Rob Thomas in my recollection, but I don't think that's right. Anyway, go see 'em. Now the question is: do I brave the Knitting Factory to (finally) see USE?
posted by Mike B. at 4:15 PM
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Thursday, September 29, 2005
The lead story in Harper's this month is an essay by Ben Marcus that's intended as a rebuff to, well, basically Jonathan Franzen, although it's ostensibly a defense of experimental fiction. There's an excerpt up here that's very Franzen-centric, so if it intrigues you, it's worth getting ahold of the print copy to read the full thing; it might not seem like it, but Marcus does do more than just bitch about J-Franz. Not a lot more, but still. It's funny. Now that I've read both Franzen's bitchfest and Marcus' rebuke, I should be able to pick on side or the other, but honestly, both annoy me to no end. Every time I'm about to agree with Marcus, he goes and says something that really loses me, and this is after being extremely put off by a lot of what Franzen's had to say about fiction over the last several years. I mean, on the one hand, I'm a pop partisan, so I should be attracted to Franzen's plea for good writers to use their talent in the service of something more accessible to the general public. But then I read Franzen's fiction, which is presumably the kind of thing he'd like to see other people write, and I can't get through a page, let alone a whole novel. I would like to see literary fiction broaden its scope, get more imaginative, and maybe put a higher emphasis on readability over difficulty, all of which I think Franzen was proposing. But if by pursuing these goals you end up with a novel about a midwestern family with psychological issues, maybe I'm not so in favor of those goals after all. Unless the family members all shoot lasers out of their eyes and can time-travel. On the other hand, Marcus correctly points out that what Franzen's proposing is a continued dominance of realism, and I've always had a big beef with that school, in most of its variations. ("Most of" because my fire-escape reading this summer has been Cheever and Flann O'Connor, so.) But a lot of Marcus' points are pretty noxious, especially the idea that experimental fiction is basically reading boot camp, training to make your brain betterer. The part where he takes Franzen to task for picking on a small press is pretty bad too--I mean, if it's publishing shitty books, it's publishing shitty books, and it should be called out for that whether or not it's also getting picked on by Republican congressmen, right? Macus' request for a full-bodied embrace of "language art" is a bit chilling, because man, I really don't like fiction that thinks of itself that way. Nor has "postmodern" fiction really endeared itself to me.[1] So, again, I kind of like the idea, but since I am familiar with the end-product, it's hard to get behind; I got a little farther in Marcus' book than I did in Franzen's, but that's not saying much. My favorite fiction writer during this particular period of my life is ( as previously mentioned) David Foster Wallace, and in a way finding myself stuck in the middle in this debate goes a long way toward explaining why he's my man. He does a remarkably good job of splitting the difference between the two camps, utilizing difficulty and complexity constantly, but less as brain-training and more as a way of increasing the pleasure you get from the work. It's realist but imaginatively so, and for all people might want to decry his frequent digressions, they're often the best parts, because he's just such a good writer. He's also very funny, which counts for a lot and is oddly absent from this debate. But then, maybe that's a big part of the problem. [1] Part of the problem is that most of the "postmodern" fiction I've read strikes me as being the opposite of "language art," being, generally, badly-written and awkward. ADDENDUM: Matt Bucher sends along this related post, about James Wood's (no, not that James Woods) prejudice toward realism. Worth a read.
posted by Mike B. at 3:51 PM
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Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Last night's Gilmore Girls: discuss! What does the contrast between Luke's day-to-day interactions with Lorelai and his frantic concern for her dog indicate? Is the conflict with Rory really the reason Lorelai is stalling? How long is Rory gonna continue on this life-path? (Last shot was fantastic!) Rory's bangs: yay or nay? And, of course, Hep Alien returns from tour, flush with cash! (Trying to avoid spoilers in the main post here for the benefit of our foreign readers.)
posted by Mike B. at 10:54 AM
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Tuesday, September 27, 2005
A great post from Skykicking on Jaques Lu Cont remixes. I haven't heard the Starsailor one, but I would like to. (I would also have liked to post this closer to the April date it was originally posted, but oh well.) Sunday was one of those days that his remix of "Lose Control" came up on shuffle for a second time and I thought, "Well, one more time won't hurt." Goddamn.
posted by Mike B. at 6:04 PM
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Hey, did everybody get their Harper's yet? I did, and there's a piece in the Readings section that's applicable to that discussion we were having about Carl finding punk spirit in conservative politicians. The excerpt is good, so find it if you can, but the whole thing is online here (as a PDF; here's a HTML version.) Clearly they're being funny (and it's interesting to see how the Harper's version chops and screws the original in a way that takes out much of this self-awareness--check it out), but they're also being serious, and that gives me some serious shivers.
posted by Mike B. at 6:00 PM
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I was talking with Sean, and he pointed me toward a little freakfolk band called Wooden Wand. Please go and read the Pitchfork review of their CD. Then tell me whether or not it is a parody, because I honestly don't know. It sounds like friggin' Fruit of Forest. (The album's title is Harem of the Sundrum and the Witness Figg, so just right there.) Here is a paragraph from the review: The pieces establish a doleful sort of inspiration. "Leave Your Perch..." is a downer with soft, Grateful Dead guitar noodles bobbing over icy, shadowy strum and phaser humming like a firefly. "Perch Modifier" explicitly states some of the album's religious themes (God, angels, a bird singing "weak, rejoice, the day is new") and Toth's connection to landscape: "Look up to the clouds/ Do you ever look past your boots and onto the ground?/ Do you ever think back to when you were very small?/ That's when you didn't need to rule over all." The vocals double for the last line and the guitar pickings grow intricate, briefly, as if his heart's a-flutter. But no; holy shit, it's a real actual existing band that you can go see, a band that from all appearances takes themselves seriously. (Very very seriously.) They also apparently take crack. Literally. This fact is a pleasant combination of confusing and predictable, much like a certain phenomenon I was struck by when I first moved to Brooklyn 4 years ago: there were all these hippies. Now, I had come from a small midwestern liberal arts college, so I was far from unfamiliar with the hippie element. But this was Bushwick, Brooklyn, New York City--art students, hipsters, writers, gay parents and jazz musicians and coffeeshop refugees of all stripes, these made sense. But hippies? Weren't they supposed to be in the woods or something? (See my previous discussion of my neighborhood.) But over time, they began to make more sense in the urban landscape, and not just because I saw them around all the time. Aside from the more general phenomenon of the bounderies between subcultural groups becoming increasingly fluid (seems like you basically choose whether you're going to identify as a follower of mainstream or underground culture and then go from there; the particular underground culture you pick is kinda immaterial, and you can move between them without attracting any effective charges of disloyalty, although you lose a lot of cultural capital when you 'cash out' and move to a new subgroup), these seemed like kids who identified with the general tenets of hippie culture--community, sincerity, social responsibility, anti-consumerism, "naturalism"--but had entered into it far enough along in its development that they didn't need to adhere to all its particularities. They were just hippies who weren't outdoors people. Fair enough. The folksingers in Greenwich Village in the 60s weren't either. And so now, after the dominance of electroclash and nu-garage, two genres whose public perception emphasized the self-interested nature of the participants (even though, as frequently mentioned, almost no one made money from electroclash), the hippies are now running the hottest game in town: freakfolk. (Although, in fairness, I should note that the hippies I used to know do not and never really did like freak-folk, despite a heavy grounding in the jambands scene; they're more doing experimental indie rock now.) Thus, the old self-interest thing was out, and we were supposed to act like a community again--because we're making folk music, you see. This would have happened regardless of the attitudes of any of the participants (and it seems helpful to point out at this point that the Strokes took the Moldy Peaches on tour with them, but forgive my digressions); because part of what drew people to freakfolk was precisely this attitude of community, it was a self-enforcing dictum. Thus the social context, like the music, is a combination of the norms of the jambands scene and the experimental music scene. Two scenes, you'll note, that do not have the best record for quality control. Thus, inevitably I suppose, after bubbling under for a few years, now that it's reached a certain critical mass, good freakfolk acts, instead of being able to only support other freakfolk acts because, well, there weren't that many no one new about any of them, so if they were doubling up who's gonna call 'em on it, now are supporting bad freakfolk acts, just because they need to support other members of the scene, and because the kids are passionate and authentic and really love the music etc. etc. The same thing happens all the time with jambands, because it's about community etc etc. You're doing this kind of music, you're expected to support other people doing this music, even if they're not actually good, because they're stand-up guys, and besides, they'll be good one day... ...and that's why scenes die. It doesn't matter when you've got a finished CD in your hands, of course, and anyone can save up a few hundred dollars and go make whatever kind of album they want, but these social factors have a huge effect on what kind of music people decide they want to make, how they want to make it, and what they want to do with it after it's finished, and all this has an incalculable effect on the music you end up being able to listen to; indeed, it may have a bigger effect than any of the other ones you care to name. And that's why all of this matters. I don't complain about scenesterism (just) because the cool kids aren't inviting me to their parties. It's because the unquestioning acceptance of the quality of art made by your circle of acquaintances that emphasizing "community" more or less demands is bad for the art itself, and as both a consumer and producer of art, that's important to me. It's also a big part of why I'm so enamoured of the monad theory of art-makin', but that, as always, is a subject for another time. I'm just saying, as has been demonstrated time and time again (Prince springs most readily to mind), that unfortunately, being nice to people doesn't always produce the best art. That doesn't mean you have to be an asshole, but it does suggest that being critical rather than supportive is maybe the way to go.
posted by Mike B. at 4:52 PM
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