Is:
"Honky Tonk, Badonkadonk" by Trace Adkins.
No contest. Not even Kiss has made worse music.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Monday, January 12, 2009
The Conet Project- Obscurity, Snobbery and the Difference Between Being a Dick and Being a Fan
This post is another theme post, because I kinda like writing them more than the reviews, which I also enjoy, but the themes let me wax a little more. After talking to my buddy Matt who is a friend of the blog, I have been informed that I can frequently come off as a bit of a ranter. This, I must admit, is probably true. It is difficult to write an opinion piece that you assume few people will read, about a subject you have drunkenly argued about for your entire life without sounding like a ranter. So, in the spirit of New Years resolutions, I am trying to make this posts less ranty and more thoughtful. I have a post in the pipe right now about music and politics, but it definitely requires some touching up to sound less, well, asshole-ish. So today, I thought I would try and take a concept in music that has always interested me, by way of the Conet Project.
A brief explanation of the Conet Project- The Conet Project is a collection of recordings of short-wave radio transmissions recorded across Europe that are assumed to be spy transmissions. These recordings are weird. They tend to be creepy loops of children's songs, followed or joined by disembodied female voices reciting off numbers, letters or nonsensical groupings of words. It's assumed that these recordings, which broadcast on short wave radio frequencies, and so can be picked up by anyone with a short wave radio, so it is assumed spy's in the field can hear the transmissions and theoretically interpret them based on some pre-determined code scheme. Needless to say, a group of short-wave radio enthusiasts (nerds) recorded these, and a music company called Irdial put them up for free download on their website. Check it out, download a few and listen to see what I mean, just Google Irdial, or the Conet Project. So what does this have to do with, you know, music? Well, a couple of things.
Firstly, the Conet Project has become a bit of a pet obsession with several musicians and film makers, including my personal favorite Jeff Tweedy, who used the Conet Project in his magnum opus Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. The title is taken from a Conet sequence, that plays at the end of the song "Poor Places" in which a female British voice chants "Yankee. Hotel. Foxtrot." What does this mean? Who the hell knows? But the point is, Tweedy is enamored with the Conet Project, and found in it an excellent source for sampling that fit with the overall atmosphere of the whole Yankee Hotel Foxtrot album. Which brings up the question: the Conet Project is a relatively unlistenable, creepy, random, weird collection of 1-5 minute recordings of, well, creepy, random, weird messages. So is listening to it (as I occasionally do), and integrating it into music (as Tweedy and others have done) being a musical experimentalist, a music snob, or simply utilizing something that sounds interesting when interspersed throughout an album? Or is it none of the above? Well, I'm not sure, but what thinking about this question did do for me was raise another one that has been tossed around in musical criticism: when is a musician making unlistenable, snobbish music, and when is he pushing his creativity and art into a new, interesting direction?
Well, this is the big question. I have been accused in my life of being a musical snob, because I dislike most mainstream music, and a lot of stuff considered essential (see my post about disliking Bob Marley for an indication of my musical douchebaggery if you doubt me). But I don't necessarily see it as such. Without launching into a rant defending my taste in music, which is relatively normal if you ask me, I will defend myself by saying there are two big qualifiers for me to like something, other than whether or not it is ascetically pleasing. The first is whether or not the artist is actually putting something of themselves into it. I am not suggesting that all music must be heart on the sleeve, confessional, or deeply personal, but my biggest complaint against a band like Nickelback or some such thing, is that their songs sound like they simply figured out how to write something catchy, and have since decided to repeat the process, ad nauseum. I do find some Nickelback stuff catchy, but its totally empty to me. When that "Hero" song was being played every 30 seconds a few years ago, it got stuck in my head a billion times. But I dislike it because its clearly just a catchy song, nothing more. Empty. Listening to artists like Nickelback is what I imagine sleeping with a really good looking prostitute would be like. Sure, she's gorgeous, and you are sleeping with her, but you cant kiss her, and she's thinking about her nail appointment or something, and when its all over, you just kinda want to strangle yourself with your belt. Or at least that's what I imagine it's like. I could be wrong.
Conversely, I will actually listen to something like, say, Lou Reed's "Metal Machine Music" which is just non-stop guitar feedback, because as tongue-in-cheek as he is about it, he really was experimenting with the whole form and idea of the song, ripping it apart to be nothing but noise. To me, this is a much more interesting, albeit almost unlistenable, album than anything by Nickelback or Theory of a Dead Man or some such nonsense. But it does raise the point- is it snobbery to feel like this, or just an appreciation of artists who push the boundaries of their art? It's probably a little of both, an argument in which I would say I am not a snob, I just have a different take on music, and in which someone else would say no, you are in fact a snob because you prefer unlistenable noise to, you know, actual songs.
The second thing I look for in an artist, generally, is really just a sub category of the "meaningful" idea. I like my music to be relatively evolutionary. Like I was saying about bands like Nickelback et al, they are just repeating a formula. They don't expand on what they started as, but simply grow static, re-making the same song, album, you name it, over and over again. This, I feel, is nowhere more embodies than U2. I love U2, which not a lot of people will say anymore because their last albums were absolutely dreadful. But listen to their first works, October, War and especially The Joshua Tree. Those are great albums, and you can hear the band growing, expanding on their sound, trying to perfect their musical vision. Then....stasis. Achtung Baby is a good album, but really, U2 have been banging out the same old same old "anthem," with all the atmosphere etc.. you expect from U2. But it's not new, or interesting, or even different. Its just.....the same.
So what am I saying about musical snobbery? Well, the point I am trying to make is that something like Metal Machine Noise, or to a much less abrasive extent Yankee Hotel Foxtrot (its a great album, one of my favorites), that utilize noise and bizarre, short-wave radio transmission samples, or deconstructs the traditional song structure, is not a musician trying to be a dick. It's an artist advancing the vision they have for their craft. I doubt there is anyone left alive who would admit to ever having said "Well Picasso, its alright, but what if you just painted the guitar the way it looks?" In all other art worlds, experimenting and innovation are generally seen as essential to keeping the art form fresh. In music, at least in the short term, experimentation and innovation are often seen as something negative, or at least as something that doesn't belong in the mainstream (which is a sentiment I can sort of agree with). But what I don't agree with is the sentiment that this is somehow snobbery. While not for everyone, without this kind of experimentation, music doesn't evolve. Think of the Beatles, or Elvis, or really any band that made a drastic change to the world of music. With all of the legends and innovators, there are countless lesser known bands whose contributions to music are almost as influential. Not many people can name a Sonic Youth song, and they definitely embody the "snob" wing of the music world, but without them, there may not have been a Nirvana, or even the "indie" rock world as it is today. That's just one example, but its the one I like to use the most. While there are tons of people who would dismiss Sonic Youth as noise, or worse, the same people probably have at least a few songs or albums by bands that would site them as a direct influence.
So after all of that, how can I sum up my point in a nice, concise conclusion? (It's like University all over. But I'm sober). The main point that I hope you, the reader, takes from this is that while snob's and dicks certainly exist in the music world, the music itself is rarely snobbery. Because something is not immediately recognizable and familiar musically doesn't mean its some artistic "fuck you" to the mainstream. To me, even if its terrible, or can't be listened to for more than 2 minutes, I can respect an artist who is experimenting with his or her craft, and trying to push it in a new direction. To me, snobbery is a relative term when it comes to music, which is why I think I can listen to The Rolling Stones '80's output and Mission of Burma on the same playlist. But that's just me, I'm sure I'm in the minority here.
Well, hopefully that wasn't too long winded for everyone, and let me know what you think of the new, less ranty Possible Side Effects.
A brief explanation of the Conet Project- The Conet Project is a collection of recordings of short-wave radio transmissions recorded across Europe that are assumed to be spy transmissions. These recordings are weird. They tend to be creepy loops of children's songs, followed or joined by disembodied female voices reciting off numbers, letters or nonsensical groupings of words. It's assumed that these recordings, which broadcast on short wave radio frequencies, and so can be picked up by anyone with a short wave radio, so it is assumed spy's in the field can hear the transmissions and theoretically interpret them based on some pre-determined code scheme. Needless to say, a group of short-wave radio enthusiasts (nerds) recorded these, and a music company called Irdial put them up for free download on their website. Check it out, download a few and listen to see what I mean, just Google Irdial, or the Conet Project. So what does this have to do with, you know, music? Well, a couple of things.
Firstly, the Conet Project has become a bit of a pet obsession with several musicians and film makers, including my personal favorite Jeff Tweedy, who used the Conet Project in his magnum opus Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. The title is taken from a Conet sequence, that plays at the end of the song "Poor Places" in which a female British voice chants "Yankee. Hotel. Foxtrot." What does this mean? Who the hell knows? But the point is, Tweedy is enamored with the Conet Project, and found in it an excellent source for sampling that fit with the overall atmosphere of the whole Yankee Hotel Foxtrot album. Which brings up the question: the Conet Project is a relatively unlistenable, creepy, random, weird collection of 1-5 minute recordings of, well, creepy, random, weird messages. So is listening to it (as I occasionally do), and integrating it into music (as Tweedy and others have done) being a musical experimentalist, a music snob, or simply utilizing something that sounds interesting when interspersed throughout an album? Or is it none of the above? Well, I'm not sure, but what thinking about this question did do for me was raise another one that has been tossed around in musical criticism: when is a musician making unlistenable, snobbish music, and when is he pushing his creativity and art into a new, interesting direction?
Well, this is the big question. I have been accused in my life of being a musical snob, because I dislike most mainstream music, and a lot of stuff considered essential (see my post about disliking Bob Marley for an indication of my musical douchebaggery if you doubt me). But I don't necessarily see it as such. Without launching into a rant defending my taste in music, which is relatively normal if you ask me, I will defend myself by saying there are two big qualifiers for me to like something, other than whether or not it is ascetically pleasing. The first is whether or not the artist is actually putting something of themselves into it. I am not suggesting that all music must be heart on the sleeve, confessional, or deeply personal, but my biggest complaint against a band like Nickelback or some such thing, is that their songs sound like they simply figured out how to write something catchy, and have since decided to repeat the process, ad nauseum. I do find some Nickelback stuff catchy, but its totally empty to me. When that "Hero" song was being played every 30 seconds a few years ago, it got stuck in my head a billion times. But I dislike it because its clearly just a catchy song, nothing more. Empty. Listening to artists like Nickelback is what I imagine sleeping with a really good looking prostitute would be like. Sure, she's gorgeous, and you are sleeping with her, but you cant kiss her, and she's thinking about her nail appointment or something, and when its all over, you just kinda want to strangle yourself with your belt. Or at least that's what I imagine it's like. I could be wrong.
Conversely, I will actually listen to something like, say, Lou Reed's "Metal Machine Music" which is just non-stop guitar feedback, because as tongue-in-cheek as he is about it, he really was experimenting with the whole form and idea of the song, ripping it apart to be nothing but noise. To me, this is a much more interesting, albeit almost unlistenable, album than anything by Nickelback or Theory of a Dead Man or some such nonsense. But it does raise the point- is it snobbery to feel like this, or just an appreciation of artists who push the boundaries of their art? It's probably a little of both, an argument in which I would say I am not a snob, I just have a different take on music, and in which someone else would say no, you are in fact a snob because you prefer unlistenable noise to, you know, actual songs.
The second thing I look for in an artist, generally, is really just a sub category of the "meaningful" idea. I like my music to be relatively evolutionary. Like I was saying about bands like Nickelback et al, they are just repeating a formula. They don't expand on what they started as, but simply grow static, re-making the same song, album, you name it, over and over again. This, I feel, is nowhere more embodies than U2. I love U2, which not a lot of people will say anymore because their last albums were absolutely dreadful. But listen to their first works, October, War and especially The Joshua Tree. Those are great albums, and you can hear the band growing, expanding on their sound, trying to perfect their musical vision. Then....stasis. Achtung Baby is a good album, but really, U2 have been banging out the same old same old "anthem," with all the atmosphere etc.. you expect from U2. But it's not new, or interesting, or even different. Its just.....the same.
So what am I saying about musical snobbery? Well, the point I am trying to make is that something like Metal Machine Noise, or to a much less abrasive extent Yankee Hotel Foxtrot (its a great album, one of my favorites), that utilize noise and bizarre, short-wave radio transmission samples, or deconstructs the traditional song structure, is not a musician trying to be a dick. It's an artist advancing the vision they have for their craft. I doubt there is anyone left alive who would admit to ever having said "Well Picasso, its alright, but what if you just painted the guitar the way it looks?" In all other art worlds, experimenting and innovation are generally seen as essential to keeping the art form fresh. In music, at least in the short term, experimentation and innovation are often seen as something negative, or at least as something that doesn't belong in the mainstream (which is a sentiment I can sort of agree with). But what I don't agree with is the sentiment that this is somehow snobbery. While not for everyone, without this kind of experimentation, music doesn't evolve. Think of the Beatles, or Elvis, or really any band that made a drastic change to the world of music. With all of the legends and innovators, there are countless lesser known bands whose contributions to music are almost as influential. Not many people can name a Sonic Youth song, and they definitely embody the "snob" wing of the music world, but without them, there may not have been a Nirvana, or even the "indie" rock world as it is today. That's just one example, but its the one I like to use the most. While there are tons of people who would dismiss Sonic Youth as noise, or worse, the same people probably have at least a few songs or albums by bands that would site them as a direct influence.
So after all of that, how can I sum up my point in a nice, concise conclusion? (It's like University all over. But I'm sober). The main point that I hope you, the reader, takes from this is that while snob's and dicks certainly exist in the music world, the music itself is rarely snobbery. Because something is not immediately recognizable and familiar musically doesn't mean its some artistic "fuck you" to the mainstream. To me, even if its terrible, or can't be listened to for more than 2 minutes, I can respect an artist who is experimenting with his or her craft, and trying to push it in a new direction. To me, snobbery is a relative term when it comes to music, which is why I think I can listen to The Rolling Stones '80's output and Mission of Burma on the same playlist. But that's just me, I'm sure I'm in the minority here.
Well, hopefully that wasn't too long winded for everyone, and let me know what you think of the new, less ranty Possible Side Effects.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Back to the Grind- "For Emma, Forever Ago" Bon Iver
Well, here we are, almost a New Year and I am getting back to the old habit of actually reviewing an album, instead of angering friends and family alike with lists of artists I hate, or failing to get my point across about live music. So I have decided to renew my reviews with a tasty little album from last year (2007, its still 2008 while I write this). Bon Iver's "For Emma, Forever Ago," was brought to my attention by my homeboy Casey and I regret that I took so long to eventually get around to listening to it, because it is good. Really good.
The album itself has a little bit of its own mythology, which always makes for interesting music. Recording in a cabin in the Wisconsin mountains (or hills? are there mountains in Wisconsin?), Justin Vernon made an album that sounds exactly like that- something recorded, in isolation, in a bare bones environment. It's a testament to his abilities as a musician and songwriter that such a spare, lonely album, is also such a captivating one. One of the obvious comparisons that people will probably make is to Iron and Wine, because of the simple, spare instrumentals, but I don't think this is an accurate comparison. I think it sounds more like an early blues recording somehow cross bred with the best of "white soul." Vernon's pained falsetto is both possessed and delicate. Come to think of it, if he hadn't hanged himself in a shitty Florida hotel, and instead sobered up, moved to a cabin and made a solo album, this could be the album that Richard Manuel was never stable enough to make.
The opening track "Flume" and the third song, "Skinny Love" are worth the purchase of the album alone. However, the fact that there is not a single bad song on this record make it one of the best I have heard in a while. The title track is the most musically complex, with horns and a soft snare drum accompanying Vernon and his guitar, but it in no way changes the feel of the album. All in all, "For Emma, Forever Ago" is a great album, one that I would recommend to anyone. It is not, however, the kind of album you will want to throw on at parties, or listen to in groups of people. Its a bit of a downer. But in the best way imaginable.
Happy New Years, all.
The album itself has a little bit of its own mythology, which always makes for interesting music. Recording in a cabin in the Wisconsin mountains (or hills? are there mountains in Wisconsin?), Justin Vernon made an album that sounds exactly like that- something recorded, in isolation, in a bare bones environment. It's a testament to his abilities as a musician and songwriter that such a spare, lonely album, is also such a captivating one. One of the obvious comparisons that people will probably make is to Iron and Wine, because of the simple, spare instrumentals, but I don't think this is an accurate comparison. I think it sounds more like an early blues recording somehow cross bred with the best of "white soul." Vernon's pained falsetto is both possessed and delicate. Come to think of it, if he hadn't hanged himself in a shitty Florida hotel, and instead sobered up, moved to a cabin and made a solo album, this could be the album that Richard Manuel was never stable enough to make.
The opening track "Flume" and the third song, "Skinny Love" are worth the purchase of the album alone. However, the fact that there is not a single bad song on this record make it one of the best I have heard in a while. The title track is the most musically complex, with horns and a soft snare drum accompanying Vernon and his guitar, but it in no way changes the feel of the album. All in all, "For Emma, Forever Ago" is a great album, one that I would recommend to anyone. It is not, however, the kind of album you will want to throw on at parties, or listen to in groups of people. Its a bit of a downer. But in the best way imaginable.
Happy New Years, all.
Monday, December 22, 2008
Sacrilage!
Today's post will follow what seem's to be a growing trend round here at Side-Effects headquarters. I will again not be discussing a specific album, not because I am out of albums or anything, but because when I started this, I didn't think about the fact that I might come up with different themes to write about, and since there really are no actual rules for this, I'm gonna do whatever the shit I want. So there you go. And in the efforts of driving people crazy, today is going to be a post about those artists that are almost universally revered, and that I can't fucking stand. I guarantee there will be at least one artist on this least you will disagree with me on. And there is even one on this list that I will tie into what was obviously an overly aggressive proclamation on my part: Concept Album Month. Just couldn't pull it off. So without further ado, here it is - the Possible Side-Effects Sacrilege list, the artists beloved by so many, hated so much by me.
1) The Eagles - This is a pretty typical one. For a certain type of music fan (such as myself), hating The Eagles is a badge of honor, made all the more special by The Big Lebowski, and The Dude's hatred of Don Henley and the rest of these soft rock melon heads. I mean seriously, Joe Walsh? Are you fucking kidding me? There is absolutely nothing good about a band that allows Joe Walsh and Don Henley to be prominent members. Also, as a side note: my hatred of Hippies is pretty much a direct link to my hatred of the song Hotel California. And to all those people who say - but have you heard the live version with the sweet Spanish guitar solo at the beginning? I look at those people with more disgust than I have in my heart for almost anyone.
2) Joni Mitchell - not sure exactly what it is, but I cannot stand Joni Mitchell. Just can't fucking stand her. This one always pisses off people that wish they were alive in the sixties. For some reason, everyone I've met who likes Joni Mitchell, wishes they were some kind of nuvo-hippie, and thinks that Big Yellow Taxi should be the new national anthem. Maybe I just hate Joni Mitchell fans. Hmmm, perhaps I will give her a second chance now that I am no longer at University and the chances of running into someone with dreadlocks are now slim to none (this is an idea that I have had with a few artists, one more of which who will appear on this list and draw me the most anger from the population at large).
3) David Bowie -the concept album tie in. Ziggy Stardust? Fuck Me Running I hate that album. Everyone, for some reason, thinks Bowie is this amazing musical chameleon who changes his style to suit the times, adapting, adopting and making his own the trends that he can seamlessly turn into blah blah blah. In reality, fuck Bowie. I think he has a couple of good songs, Heroes comes to mind immediately, but there are also lots and lots of stinkers. ever actually listen to Let's Dance or China Girl? Come on people. These are not the works of some musical savant. They are lousy 80's songs, even by 80's standards. But my real problem is not really with Bowie's music, exactly, but with how so many people talk about his music. As I mentioned above, die hard Bowie fan's think that he somehow changes all genres he touches, turning them into pure gold. I think at the very most, Bowie is ok at taking current styles and turning them into catchy tunes. And all his songs are instantly recognizable as a David Bowie song. But none of them sound like he actually......wants to be a part of them. Another musical genre jumper, who I enjoy, is Elvis Costello who to me sounds like the opposite of this. When Costello starts singing a jaunty country ballad, or a polka or whatever, it sounds like Costello is trying to own both the song and the genre, to make it his. Bowie, on the other hand, always sounds like a dilettante, like he hears some new sound and thinks "Hmmm, that's interesting, maybe a couple like that and I'll be the talk of the town again." Bowie is a dabbler, not a true believer. And that drives me bonkers. That and Saxaphone solo's. Seriously, Bowie might be the worst perpetrator of this crime against humanity.
4) Pearl Jam - Man is this one going to catch me some grief with a couple of my friends (a particular M.S. to be even more specific). But as the years pass and I re-listen to the Pearl Jam I have, which is not very much truthfully, it grows on me less and less, to the point where I am ready to say that I am not really a big fan. Actually, not really a fan at all. Why? Not sure, really. I remember when I was a youthful music snob, pissing about bands like Creed and their wannabe Eddie Vedder voices and how it bothered me because I thought they were affecting the sound of some much more "authentic" artist. But now, when I listen to Pearl Jam, I think that I might just hate the sound of Eddie Vedder's voice, period. Because when I listen to Pearl Jam now, I still get the same cringe that I used to experience when Creed was on the radio (and fuck, were Creed ever on the radio a lot when I was in the eighth grade). So blast away friends, but to me, Pearl Jam is the least interesting alternative band that is still considered to have been musically relevant (there is a difference between Creed and Pearl Jam - Pearl Jam are influential, even earning a place in history, while Creed just straight up suck). I think I would take almost any of the other "grunge" bands (even the much maligned Stone Temple Pilots) over Pearl Jam, and its not just Eddie Vedders voice, either. Well, its not exclusively his voice anyway, but it does play a large role in my feelings. I also find their music to be some weird, unfortunate hybrid of G'N'R and Nirvana. Which is nowhere near as awesome as it sounds.
5) Before I even drop this one, I am willing to say a lot of my problem with this artist is the fact that I went to a university that seemed to have a lot of douche bag hippies and douche bag frat boy types, and both revered this fellow. So I have told a friend that I will give it a year away from school, then return to the well and see if my feelings change being away from dreadlocked or popped collar devotee's of: Bob Marley - Yes, my musical snobbery does run deep enough that I can in fact claim to be disinterested in, if not downright hostile to the artist who, maybe second only to John Lennon, maybe even more so than the first dead Beatle, is universally beloved. He's like a goddamn poster for peace and understanding. Disliking Bob Marley, for any reason, is about the same as disliking Nelson Mandella or something. Do so at your own risk, because I stand on a very lonely platform whenever I quietly point out to someone who has put Legend on the stereo and begun to sway around and sing along that, actually, I would much rather listen to almost anything than Mr. Marley. Including Pearl Jam. But if your going to say you don't like Bob Marley, you gotta back that up with some powerful shit, right, mon? Well, ok, here goes, I'll try and justify this one. Ever had a terrible time at a party full of guys with frosted tips, Lacoste shirts and $800 shoes, talking about their "number of kills" and enjoying a refreshing Smirnoff Ice? Ever had a lousy time at a party full of guys and girls with dreadlocks, smoking tons of dope, talking about corporate evil while drinking Stella Artois and smoking Benson and Hedges? Ever realize that at both horrible parties, you are listening to Legend? Seriously, lets play a little game with memory, shall we? Imagine the worst party you've ever been at, with the worst people. I'm talking just an all around shitty time. Now think really hard: Bob Marley came on at some point in the night, didn't he? You can admit it, no-one is going to hold it against you. It's a fact. But wait, you say, what about all the great times you have had to Bob Marley? This is true, and I used to love the guys (and can still listen to Catch a Fire at any time), hell I even lost my virginity to the first 0:38 of "Is This Love?" (ZING!). But since going away to school, I will say my tolerance of douche bag fans and the actual music of Bob Marley has been eroded. After a while, if we are being honest, Legend (and by extension, much of Marley's other work) all just kinda sounds the same. It's like AC/DC, but reggae. So there you go. Between fans and the fact that it really doesn't change all that much, I gotta admit, I am not a Marley fan. But, as promised, I will revisit him in some time, now that I am as far away from frat boy/dip-shit hippie types as I'll ever be and see if my opinion changes. On a related note, I wonder if I am the only person who has ever publicly written this much about not liking Marley? I couldn't find a word of negative criticism in the two minutes I spent looking for it.
So there you have it folks, the sacrilege. That's not all of course, I will post another one of these some day to alienate a whole new set of peeps, but for now, that oughta be enough. Shit, maybe even my criticism of Bob Marley will get me my first troll? Who knows? Merry Christmas everyone, hopefully I can get something up here before the New Year.
1) The Eagles - This is a pretty typical one. For a certain type of music fan (such as myself), hating The Eagles is a badge of honor, made all the more special by The Big Lebowski, and The Dude's hatred of Don Henley and the rest of these soft rock melon heads. I mean seriously, Joe Walsh? Are you fucking kidding me? There is absolutely nothing good about a band that allows Joe Walsh and Don Henley to be prominent members. Also, as a side note: my hatred of Hippies is pretty much a direct link to my hatred of the song Hotel California. And to all those people who say - but have you heard the live version with the sweet Spanish guitar solo at the beginning? I look at those people with more disgust than I have in my heart for almost anyone.
2) Joni Mitchell - not sure exactly what it is, but I cannot stand Joni Mitchell. Just can't fucking stand her. This one always pisses off people that wish they were alive in the sixties. For some reason, everyone I've met who likes Joni Mitchell, wishes they were some kind of nuvo-hippie, and thinks that Big Yellow Taxi should be the new national anthem. Maybe I just hate Joni Mitchell fans. Hmmm, perhaps I will give her a second chance now that I am no longer at University and the chances of running into someone with dreadlocks are now slim to none (this is an idea that I have had with a few artists, one more of which who will appear on this list and draw me the most anger from the population at large).
3) David Bowie -the concept album tie in. Ziggy Stardust? Fuck Me Running I hate that album. Everyone, for some reason, thinks Bowie is this amazing musical chameleon who changes his style to suit the times, adapting, adopting and making his own the trends that he can seamlessly turn into blah blah blah. In reality, fuck Bowie. I think he has a couple of good songs, Heroes comes to mind immediately, but there are also lots and lots of stinkers. ever actually listen to Let's Dance or China Girl? Come on people. These are not the works of some musical savant. They are lousy 80's songs, even by 80's standards. But my real problem is not really with Bowie's music, exactly, but with how so many people talk about his music. As I mentioned above, die hard Bowie fan's think that he somehow changes all genres he touches, turning them into pure gold. I think at the very most, Bowie is ok at taking current styles and turning them into catchy tunes. And all his songs are instantly recognizable as a David Bowie song. But none of them sound like he actually......wants to be a part of them. Another musical genre jumper, who I enjoy, is Elvis Costello who to me sounds like the opposite of this. When Costello starts singing a jaunty country ballad, or a polka or whatever, it sounds like Costello is trying to own both the song and the genre, to make it his. Bowie, on the other hand, always sounds like a dilettante, like he hears some new sound and thinks "Hmmm, that's interesting, maybe a couple like that and I'll be the talk of the town again." Bowie is a dabbler, not a true believer. And that drives me bonkers. That and Saxaphone solo's. Seriously, Bowie might be the worst perpetrator of this crime against humanity.
4) Pearl Jam - Man is this one going to catch me some grief with a couple of my friends (a particular M.S. to be even more specific). But as the years pass and I re-listen to the Pearl Jam I have, which is not very much truthfully, it grows on me less and less, to the point where I am ready to say that I am not really a big fan. Actually, not really a fan at all. Why? Not sure, really. I remember when I was a youthful music snob, pissing about bands like Creed and their wannabe Eddie Vedder voices and how it bothered me because I thought they were affecting the sound of some much more "authentic" artist. But now, when I listen to Pearl Jam, I think that I might just hate the sound of Eddie Vedder's voice, period. Because when I listen to Pearl Jam now, I still get the same cringe that I used to experience when Creed was on the radio (and fuck, were Creed ever on the radio a lot when I was in the eighth grade). So blast away friends, but to me, Pearl Jam is the least interesting alternative band that is still considered to have been musically relevant (there is a difference between Creed and Pearl Jam - Pearl Jam are influential, even earning a place in history, while Creed just straight up suck). I think I would take almost any of the other "grunge" bands (even the much maligned Stone Temple Pilots) over Pearl Jam, and its not just Eddie Vedders voice, either. Well, its not exclusively his voice anyway, but it does play a large role in my feelings. I also find their music to be some weird, unfortunate hybrid of G'N'R and Nirvana. Which is nowhere near as awesome as it sounds.
5) Before I even drop this one, I am willing to say a lot of my problem with this artist is the fact that I went to a university that seemed to have a lot of douche bag hippies and douche bag frat boy types, and both revered this fellow. So I have told a friend that I will give it a year away from school, then return to the well and see if my feelings change being away from dreadlocked or popped collar devotee's of: Bob Marley - Yes, my musical snobbery does run deep enough that I can in fact claim to be disinterested in, if not downright hostile to the artist who, maybe second only to John Lennon, maybe even more so than the first dead Beatle, is universally beloved. He's like a goddamn poster for peace and understanding. Disliking Bob Marley, for any reason, is about the same as disliking Nelson Mandella or something. Do so at your own risk, because I stand on a very lonely platform whenever I quietly point out to someone who has put Legend on the stereo and begun to sway around and sing along that, actually, I would much rather listen to almost anything than Mr. Marley. Including Pearl Jam. But if your going to say you don't like Bob Marley, you gotta back that up with some powerful shit, right, mon? Well, ok, here goes, I'll try and justify this one. Ever had a terrible time at a party full of guys with frosted tips, Lacoste shirts and $800 shoes, talking about their "number of kills" and enjoying a refreshing Smirnoff Ice? Ever had a lousy time at a party full of guys and girls with dreadlocks, smoking tons of dope, talking about corporate evil while drinking Stella Artois and smoking Benson and Hedges? Ever realize that at both horrible parties, you are listening to Legend? Seriously, lets play a little game with memory, shall we? Imagine the worst party you've ever been at, with the worst people. I'm talking just an all around shitty time. Now think really hard: Bob Marley came on at some point in the night, didn't he? You can admit it, no-one is going to hold it against you. It's a fact. But wait, you say, what about all the great times you have had to Bob Marley? This is true, and I used to love the guys (and can still listen to Catch a Fire at any time), hell I even lost my virginity to the first 0:38 of "Is This Love?" (ZING!). But since going away to school, I will say my tolerance of douche bag fans and the actual music of Bob Marley has been eroded. After a while, if we are being honest, Legend (and by extension, much of Marley's other work) all just kinda sounds the same. It's like AC/DC, but reggae. So there you go. Between fans and the fact that it really doesn't change all that much, I gotta admit, I am not a Marley fan. But, as promised, I will revisit him in some time, now that I am as far away from frat boy/dip-shit hippie types as I'll ever be and see if my opinion changes. On a related note, I wonder if I am the only person who has ever publicly written this much about not liking Marley? I couldn't find a word of negative criticism in the two minutes I spent looking for it.
So there you have it folks, the sacrilege. That's not all of course, I will post another one of these some day to alienate a whole new set of peeps, but for now, that oughta be enough. Shit, maybe even my criticism of Bob Marley will get me my first troll? Who knows? Merry Christmas everyone, hopefully I can get something up here before the New Year.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Happy Holidays! (take that Christmas, don't you know there is a war against you?)
Happy Holiday's to all my loyal readers! Tis the season for non-stop talk about the war on Christmas!!! This is my favorite part of the Holiday's, watching people like Bill O'Riley and others try and convince the world that their is a vast, PC, multi-cultural war on Christmas, to have it replaced with Analsexmas, or perhaps Earth Day. The fact that the most prevalent, in your face, all consuming Holiday of the year is clearly a Christian holiday is still no match for the dastardly forces of progressivism. So I like to do my part to egg this on, which is why I love the expression Happy Holidays! Contained in this innocent expression of goodwill, the guardians of our Christian Heritage, without whom we would be pagans or gay, see the ultimate assault on Jesus' b-day. ( I am watching the Leafs Game on TSN while writing this and have one question: Whats up with Sarah Orlovsky's mouth? Its......weird). Where was I? Oh yes, Happy Holidays. This is obviously not the natural evolution of language, the result of wasting too much time saying "Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year (and for all our Jewish friends out there, Happy Hanukka(?)" but is a diabolical plan to ensure that everyone forgets that the reason they are off work/school/solitary confinement is because of Christ. The fact that every store is pumping songs with the word Christmas clearly in the title? Not enough. Its all of your fault, for saying Happy Holidays!
So what does this have to do with anything? Nothing really. I know you are all thinking, wait, last week he writes about a concert, this week its not even music related? What has happened to our beloved blog? He's turning into one of those sefl-important bloggers (all of them) who think they are the "new media" and changing the way things are done! Well, your lack of faith in me makes it no surprise that we are back-sliding into some pagan-assfucking celebration of the sun, instead of Christmas. Because this post is about Christmas carols that don't make you want to kill yourself! So Bam!
Rufus Wainwright - "Spotlight on Christmas": This is a solid, rollicking Christmas song that sounds absolutely nothing like a Christmas song. But, not only is it a Christmas Carrol, it even mentions the J-man, his mom and dad, and the whole nativity story. So here is a challenge Bill O'Riley: start playing this song before everyone of your Holiday shows as the ultimate Christmas carrol. Whats that? The artist may be the long prophesied re-born King of the Gays? So Christmas isn't the inclusive holiday that you all say it is? Hmmmm.......*
Eisley- "The Winter Song": Whats so good about this one? It has everything I like about Christmas songs. It sounds mind meltingly depressing, so what more do you want in the holidays? The lyrics are relatively up-beat, commenting on winter etc.., but the music and melody convey the sense of longing that I think most people feel around this time of year. Even if your Christmas is the best ever, there is still always something missing, like the sense of pure joy you had as a child, or a loved one who has passed on. The holidays are about everybody getting together for food, gifts and family, but they also remind you that another year is gone. All Christmas Carols should have a little longing in them.
Rilo Kiley- "Christmas Cake": Or you could listen to this one, which is just straight up depressing. Covers all the Holiday classics: isolation, financial strain, sudden un-employment, and just an all around feeling of misery. But man, is this a pretty song. Also, the lead singer of Rilo Kiley is a young lady named Jenny Lewis who I love, and will probably be writing a little more about later. This is the song that makes you think the perfect holiday gift is eggnogg and a hand gun.
Bing Crosby- "White Christmas": Surprised? The ultimate in sappy Christmas songs? Know how much you would have if you decided to buy the rights to this song? A billion dollars. You gotta respect this mo-fo.
That's all for now, just a couple of Christmas songs (all available from some collection called "Maybe this Christmas too?") that definitely don't get the respect they deserve. Or that most people have never heard of. Whatever, enjoy! Happy Holidays! (I will probably post again before Christmas, or if I am ambitious, I might post about the music I get for Christmas, so keep your ears to the ground, fools)
*Note: when I refer to Rufus Wainwright as the long lost king of the gays, I mean that in the most respectful way possible. If the Lord of the Rings taught me anything, its that a group of people is not complete unless they have a long lost royal bloodline that'll come along and return them to glory. Elton John has been shitting the bed hard for the last few years, so I'm thinking this might be Rufus' time to step up. Or something.
So what does this have to do with anything? Nothing really. I know you are all thinking, wait, last week he writes about a concert, this week its not even music related? What has happened to our beloved blog? He's turning into one of those sefl-important bloggers (all of them) who think they are the "new media" and changing the way things are done! Well, your lack of faith in me makes it no surprise that we are back-sliding into some pagan-assfucking celebration of the sun, instead of Christmas. Because this post is about Christmas carols that don't make you want to kill yourself! So Bam!
Rufus Wainwright - "Spotlight on Christmas": This is a solid, rollicking Christmas song that sounds absolutely nothing like a Christmas song. But, not only is it a Christmas Carrol, it even mentions the J-man, his mom and dad, and the whole nativity story. So here is a challenge Bill O'Riley: start playing this song before everyone of your Holiday shows as the ultimate Christmas carrol. Whats that? The artist may be the long prophesied re-born King of the Gays? So Christmas isn't the inclusive holiday that you all say it is? Hmmmm.......*
Eisley- "The Winter Song": Whats so good about this one? It has everything I like about Christmas songs. It sounds mind meltingly depressing, so what more do you want in the holidays? The lyrics are relatively up-beat, commenting on winter etc.., but the music and melody convey the sense of longing that I think most people feel around this time of year. Even if your Christmas is the best ever, there is still always something missing, like the sense of pure joy you had as a child, or a loved one who has passed on. The holidays are about everybody getting together for food, gifts and family, but they also remind you that another year is gone. All Christmas Carols should have a little longing in them.
Rilo Kiley- "Christmas Cake": Or you could listen to this one, which is just straight up depressing. Covers all the Holiday classics: isolation, financial strain, sudden un-employment, and just an all around feeling of misery. But man, is this a pretty song. Also, the lead singer of Rilo Kiley is a young lady named Jenny Lewis who I love, and will probably be writing a little more about later. This is the song that makes you think the perfect holiday gift is eggnogg and a hand gun.
Bing Crosby- "White Christmas": Surprised? The ultimate in sappy Christmas songs? Know how much you would have if you decided to buy the rights to this song? A billion dollars. You gotta respect this mo-fo.
That's all for now, just a couple of Christmas songs (all available from some collection called "Maybe this Christmas too?") that definitely don't get the respect they deserve. Or that most people have never heard of. Whatever, enjoy! Happy Holidays! (I will probably post again before Christmas, or if I am ambitious, I might post about the music I get for Christmas, so keep your ears to the ground, fools)
*Note: when I refer to Rufus Wainwright as the long lost king of the gays, I mean that in the most respectful way possible. If the Lord of the Rings taught me anything, its that a group of people is not complete unless they have a long lost royal bloodline that'll come along and return them to glory. Elton John has been shitting the bed hard for the last few years, so I'm thinking this might be Rufus' time to step up. Or something.
Monday, December 8, 2008
Neil Young - Friday Night (not an album)
This will be a short post, but just wanted to let y'all know I saw Neil Young Friday night (and Wilco!!!!) and that it was, contrary to my deepest fears and past history with Neil, amazing! One of the best shows I have seen, possibly ever. While my friend Dave in Ottawa told me it was just ok, i was pretty blown away by the whole concert. He opened strong, and played a shit-ton of classics, including "My, My, Hey, Hey" "Cortez the Killer," "Everyone Knows this is nowhere" and my personal favorite "Powderfinger." He pulled out the acoustic, played Needle and the Damage Done and a few others, and generally just rocked my socks.
So what is the point of this post, other than a re-cap of the tunes Neil played? Well good sirs, and lady sirs, the point is this: what responsibility does an artist have to his audience? This could be a continuing idea related to my concept album month. Because here is the thing about Neil: the last time I saw him, I was actually too shit faced to remember anything and slept through most of the concert, but my friends who were all coherent, and equally large Neil fans said it blew chunks. It was when he was touring in support of Greendale, (which is a concept album) so he just played that, start to finish, with a couple classics for encore (apparently two to be exact). While I would have been tremendously disappointed by this show, a part of me respects it, as it is the logical conclusion of creating a high art, "concept" album. Playing a series of related, narrative songs in a random unstructured manner doesn't really make any sense. While one or two songs from a concept album will stand alone ( see Neutral Milk Hotel "Holland, 1945" for example) the artist him (or her) self created the album with a specific theme, or idea in mind. So if they are touring behind that album, than it seems only logical that that is what they will play.
So why do people get so much more bothered with this type of concert, the concept concert, as opposed to the concept album? Especially with an artist like Neil, who has under his belt more great songs in three albums than most artists get in three decades, the idea of not performing any of the "hits" or the fan favorites is down right suicidal. And I think I know who to blame. Once again, our culprit here is the nineteen fucking sixties. But more specifically, the artists from the first wave of "huge" rock and roll acts from the sixties that have continued to tour, and even more specifically The Rolling Stones. I love the Stones. I paid $350 to see them, so that makes me an honorary baby boomer douchebag for being willing to shill out that kind of cash to see a couple of great-grandfathers play songs that have been widely available since 1968. But man was it a great fucking show. Me and the friends I went with loved every minute of it. We didn't drink all that much, it was a concert that was more about the show than the whole getting off your ass drunk and "feeling the music." They played most of my favorite mainstream Stones songs (being a super fan, I prefer the rest Beggars Banquet to Sympathy for the Devil, but still loved hearing them dust that one off). But when I had to take a piss, when did I run out to release my essence? During one of their new songs. They were promoting whatever their last album was, and when I song I knew was from it started, I ran down to the washroom of Landsdowne park, peed and made it back for Tumbling Dice.
So what does this say about an artist and their audience? Because the Dinosaurs are still touring, and have been since the '60's, everybody assumes, and takes for granted they will be playing all of their hits, the odd new song (if they are promoting a record) and maybe a few homage covers. That's the formula, and it has served the world well since 1980 when the bands of the '60's became nostalgia acts. But not everyone conforms to this formula. In the "indie rock" community (a term I loathe, by the way) it is not unusual for a band to play their most recent album in its entirety and then maybe a few older songs, or some variation on the older formula, focusing way more on new music that old. To pull this off, I think you need to have a following who are dedicated to the bands music in its entirety, and not just the hits. Neil Young appeals to such a broad range of people that at a concert the size that he will draw, probably 60% of the people are fans of "Decade" and other greatest hits collections. To play "Greendale" from start to finish in the Air Canada Center required Neil to either believe that 20,000 people all owned and wanted to hear nothing but "Greendale" or it meant that he knew he was going to be alienating a bunch of fans, but that he doesn't make music to keep everybody happy. While this is just speculation on my part, it takes some pretty big balls to sell out a 20,000 seat venue and then intentionally piss off 70% of those people.
Looking back on it, I think if I had of been sober enough to see the concert, I probably would have tried to defend Neil for what he was doing, presenting his most recent artistic vision, as he saw it in it's entirety and is it was meant to be experienced. I respect that position enough, though a little more when your doing it on an album and a little less when you do it to people who spent $100-$400 on a ticket to your show. All things considered, I don't think artists owe their audiences much more than a good show. While many people think that means a greatest hits collection, I would argue that if you really want to enjoy live music, the artist has to believe in what they are doing. The Stones were a phenomenal show, one of the best in terms of production, quality of sound etc.. but in the back of my mind, it was a little hollow seeing Mick, Keith and the Boys play "Jumping Jack Flash" for probably the 103,372 time. Seeing an artist truly embody their art is why people should go to a concert. On Friday, Neil did that for me, he rocked and rolled, made loud, abrasive noise, and soft, subtle sounds. He played songs I love, and songs I don't really care for. But ultimately, he played for himself, and that I can respect. That, and seeing "Powderfinger" live. Goddamn that is a good song.
So I guess this wont be a short post. What do you think of concerts, dear readers? I have tried to spark debate before, but you guys just wont budge. Of all the readers I know personally, I know you have been disappointed by a concert, hell I've been at a few of them with you. So what does an artist owe his or her audience? What are your thoughts on the matter?
So what is the point of this post, other than a re-cap of the tunes Neil played? Well good sirs, and lady sirs, the point is this: what responsibility does an artist have to his audience? This could be a continuing idea related to my concept album month. Because here is the thing about Neil: the last time I saw him, I was actually too shit faced to remember anything and slept through most of the concert, but my friends who were all coherent, and equally large Neil fans said it blew chunks. It was when he was touring in support of Greendale, (which is a concept album) so he just played that, start to finish, with a couple classics for encore (apparently two to be exact). While I would have been tremendously disappointed by this show, a part of me respects it, as it is the logical conclusion of creating a high art, "concept" album. Playing a series of related, narrative songs in a random unstructured manner doesn't really make any sense. While one or two songs from a concept album will stand alone ( see Neutral Milk Hotel "Holland, 1945" for example) the artist him (or her) self created the album with a specific theme, or idea in mind. So if they are touring behind that album, than it seems only logical that that is what they will play.
So why do people get so much more bothered with this type of concert, the concept concert, as opposed to the concept album? Especially with an artist like Neil, who has under his belt more great songs in three albums than most artists get in three decades, the idea of not performing any of the "hits" or the fan favorites is down right suicidal. And I think I know who to blame. Once again, our culprit here is the nineteen fucking sixties. But more specifically, the artists from the first wave of "huge" rock and roll acts from the sixties that have continued to tour, and even more specifically The Rolling Stones. I love the Stones. I paid $350 to see them, so that makes me an honorary baby boomer douchebag for being willing to shill out that kind of cash to see a couple of great-grandfathers play songs that have been widely available since 1968. But man was it a great fucking show. Me and the friends I went with loved every minute of it. We didn't drink all that much, it was a concert that was more about the show than the whole getting off your ass drunk and "feeling the music." They played most of my favorite mainstream Stones songs (being a super fan, I prefer the rest Beggars Banquet to Sympathy for the Devil, but still loved hearing them dust that one off). But when I had to take a piss, when did I run out to release my essence? During one of their new songs. They were promoting whatever their last album was, and when I song I knew was from it started, I ran down to the washroom of Landsdowne park, peed and made it back for Tumbling Dice.
So what does this say about an artist and their audience? Because the Dinosaurs are still touring, and have been since the '60's, everybody assumes, and takes for granted they will be playing all of their hits, the odd new song (if they are promoting a record) and maybe a few homage covers. That's the formula, and it has served the world well since 1980 when the bands of the '60's became nostalgia acts. But not everyone conforms to this formula. In the "indie rock" community (a term I loathe, by the way) it is not unusual for a band to play their most recent album in its entirety and then maybe a few older songs, or some variation on the older formula, focusing way more on new music that old. To pull this off, I think you need to have a following who are dedicated to the bands music in its entirety, and not just the hits. Neil Young appeals to such a broad range of people that at a concert the size that he will draw, probably 60% of the people are fans of "Decade" and other greatest hits collections. To play "Greendale" from start to finish in the Air Canada Center required Neil to either believe that 20,000 people all owned and wanted to hear nothing but "Greendale" or it meant that he knew he was going to be alienating a bunch of fans, but that he doesn't make music to keep everybody happy. While this is just speculation on my part, it takes some pretty big balls to sell out a 20,000 seat venue and then intentionally piss off 70% of those people.
Looking back on it, I think if I had of been sober enough to see the concert, I probably would have tried to defend Neil for what he was doing, presenting his most recent artistic vision, as he saw it in it's entirety and is it was meant to be experienced. I respect that position enough, though a little more when your doing it on an album and a little less when you do it to people who spent $100-$400 on a ticket to your show. All things considered, I don't think artists owe their audiences much more than a good show. While many people think that means a greatest hits collection, I would argue that if you really want to enjoy live music, the artist has to believe in what they are doing. The Stones were a phenomenal show, one of the best in terms of production, quality of sound etc.. but in the back of my mind, it was a little hollow seeing Mick, Keith and the Boys play "Jumping Jack Flash" for probably the 103,372 time. Seeing an artist truly embody their art is why people should go to a concert. On Friday, Neil did that for me, he rocked and rolled, made loud, abrasive noise, and soft, subtle sounds. He played songs I love, and songs I don't really care for. But ultimately, he played for himself, and that I can respect. That, and seeing "Powderfinger" live. Goddamn that is a good song.
So I guess this wont be a short post. What do you think of concerts, dear readers? I have tried to spark debate before, but you guys just wont budge. Of all the readers I know personally, I know you have been disappointed by a concert, hell I've been at a few of them with you. So what does an artist owe his or her audience? What are your thoughts on the matter?
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Krazy Koncept Album #2 - The Kinks "Are the Village Green Preservation Society"
I'll be god damned if I couldn't write a whole months worth of posts on the Kinks and their late sixties to, oh I don't know, early eighties slew of Koncept albums. Seriously, Ray Davies was like some sort of Koncept vampire that fed on the shit at night, returning to his studio to kraft relatively brilliant albums about simpler times, the record industry, a transplanted hillbilly culture in England, and God knows what else. Ray Davies and the Kinks could be accused of a lot of things. Sacrificing artistic integrity for the sake of album sales will definitely never be one of them. So why Village Green? The Kinks made a kornicopia of koncept albums, each a little krazier than the next (I will stop this soon, I promise), so why Village? Because it was their first, and arguably best koncept album, and that is what December is going to be all about. That, and the birth of Jesus.
So, why is the Kinks "Are the Village Green Preservation Society" such a great concept album? Because it has all the elements of a good concept album - the experimentation, the loosely related songs that you really have to listen to get the, you know, concept, and the artistic vision that allows it to more or less transcend the era in which it was made. What sets it apart then? Well, it is almost pathologically designed to be a complete and utter commercial failure. Lets see, its 1968 and the kids are out buying records. Whats new on the shelves? Jimi Hendrix "Are you Experienced?" The Rolling Stones "Beggars Banquet" and a debut album by some band called Led Zepplin. Oh, and an album by the Kinks that's an homage to a rapidly disappearing (if it ever existed at all) pastoral way of life in the rural towns of north and midlands of England. What is surprising when you look at the context of the album is not that it failed, but that some record company executive (not known for their desire to nourish deeply personal, difficult projects) listened to it and didn't say "Are you fucking kidding me?"
Which brings us back to my original point. What is so good about this album? Well, asides from, you know, the album itself, I will confess here and now that as a music fan, I have a large tear in my heart for artists who take their artistic vision so seriously, so personally, that they almost seem dead set on sabotaging their careers in order to see the birth of that vision. Ray Davies wanted to make an album of nostalgic music for an era that was really memory before he was born, but one whose simplicity appealed so much to him, he basically bankrupted his band to get across how much he missed the Village Green. Seriously, that is artistic dedication. How deep does this respect for artistic self sabotage run? I will say this once, and only once to prove my point. Regardless of how big a piece of poop it is (and it is a large, over-produced, corn-rowed turd clogging the musical bowl) I have a pretty big respect for Axl Rose's quixotic drive to take 17 fucking years to make Chinese Democracy. So there you go, I definitely just said I respect self destructive artistic tendencies so much, I even respect Axl. But not that album, it is terrible.
So much like a smaller, quieter, and far less shitty Chinese Democracy, "The Village Green Preservation Society" is a true test of artistic vision being executed, regardless of consequence. And it only took two years to make. What of the songs on this album? At this point, does it really even matter what I say about them at this point? If you haven't heard this album, nothing I can say about the music can top what I have written about the idea of the album itself (at least in my humble opinion), and either you immediately want to hear it, or you are thinking "this guy is an idiot." But either way, what can I say about the songs? I guess only that they are awesome!
The opening track might be the perfect open to a concept album, setting the idea that the album will thread its way through for the remaining 15 songs. It is about an organization dedicated to all preserving all the things that the unnamed narrator or narrators find truly wonderful about their pastoral lives. And then the album sets about drawing the picture of that life in all its magnificence, dullness, hope, despair, love and tragedy. Seriously, I am not being disingenuous here, the album is really about that. The third song, "Picture Book" has the lyric: "picture book/pictures of each other/taken by another/ proof we loved each other/ a long time ago." That is Davies whole concept in a few lines right there. The constant reminder of how much better things were in the past, though these memories might not be as perfect as we always think of them. Song after song touches this theme in subtle, endearing ways. A true lyrical masterpiece if one was ever written.
So how does this album stack up over time? Well, it is now rightfully considered a masterpiece, a work of genius that was sunk under the weight of the 60's because it wasn't angry, or boastful or bombastic. Instead, its a subtle, thoughtful album about things past, and how things past really aren't as we would like to remember them. A pretty solid concept if you ask me.
So, why is the Kinks "Are the Village Green Preservation Society" such a great concept album? Because it has all the elements of a good concept album - the experimentation, the loosely related songs that you really have to listen to get the, you know, concept, and the artistic vision that allows it to more or less transcend the era in which it was made. What sets it apart then? Well, it is almost pathologically designed to be a complete and utter commercial failure. Lets see, its 1968 and the kids are out buying records. Whats new on the shelves? Jimi Hendrix "Are you Experienced?" The Rolling Stones "Beggars Banquet" and a debut album by some band called Led Zepplin. Oh, and an album by the Kinks that's an homage to a rapidly disappearing (if it ever existed at all) pastoral way of life in the rural towns of north and midlands of England. What is surprising when you look at the context of the album is not that it failed, but that some record company executive (not known for their desire to nourish deeply personal, difficult projects) listened to it and didn't say "Are you fucking kidding me?"
Which brings us back to my original point. What is so good about this album? Well, asides from, you know, the album itself, I will confess here and now that as a music fan, I have a large tear in my heart for artists who take their artistic vision so seriously, so personally, that they almost seem dead set on sabotaging their careers in order to see the birth of that vision. Ray Davies wanted to make an album of nostalgic music for an era that was really memory before he was born, but one whose simplicity appealed so much to him, he basically bankrupted his band to get across how much he missed the Village Green. Seriously, that is artistic dedication. How deep does this respect for artistic self sabotage run? I will say this once, and only once to prove my point. Regardless of how big a piece of poop it is (and it is a large, over-produced, corn-rowed turd clogging the musical bowl) I have a pretty big respect for Axl Rose's quixotic drive to take 17 fucking years to make Chinese Democracy. So there you go, I definitely just said I respect self destructive artistic tendencies so much, I even respect Axl. But not that album, it is terrible.
So much like a smaller, quieter, and far less shitty Chinese Democracy, "The Village Green Preservation Society" is a true test of artistic vision being executed, regardless of consequence. And it only took two years to make. What of the songs on this album? At this point, does it really even matter what I say about them at this point? If you haven't heard this album, nothing I can say about the music can top what I have written about the idea of the album itself (at least in my humble opinion), and either you immediately want to hear it, or you are thinking "this guy is an idiot." But either way, what can I say about the songs? I guess only that they are awesome!
The opening track might be the perfect open to a concept album, setting the idea that the album will thread its way through for the remaining 15 songs. It is about an organization dedicated to all preserving all the things that the unnamed narrator or narrators find truly wonderful about their pastoral lives. And then the album sets about drawing the picture of that life in all its magnificence, dullness, hope, despair, love and tragedy. Seriously, I am not being disingenuous here, the album is really about that. The third song, "Picture Book" has the lyric: "picture book/pictures of each other/taken by another/ proof we loved each other/ a long time ago." That is Davies whole concept in a few lines right there. The constant reminder of how much better things were in the past, though these memories might not be as perfect as we always think of them. Song after song touches this theme in subtle, endearing ways. A true lyrical masterpiece if one was ever written.
So how does this album stack up over time? Well, it is now rightfully considered a masterpiece, a work of genius that was sunk under the weight of the 60's because it wasn't angry, or boastful or bombastic. Instead, its a subtle, thoughtful album about things past, and how things past really aren't as we would like to remember them. A pretty solid concept if you ask me.
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