Music: The Universal Sandwich

Ladies and Gentlemen, I Present to you the Face of Pure Evil

2011-06-02T16:56:00.000-07:00

Take a good look at the man pictured to the left. Don't let his flaxen locks distract you. Instead, focus your attention on the beady dots of coal he calls his eyes. But don't let your gaze linger too long, because verily I tell you that this is the face of all that is evil. The name that this harbinger of the apocalypse goes by is (I kid you not) Mutt Lange, and it has come to my attention that he intends to destroy music as we know it.

The first sign that this man is not to be trusted is his name. Mutt? Really? With a name like that you'd expect he'd be the dimwitted bouncer in a roadhouse saloon or a cartoon spokesman for bacon flavored dog treats (if the Beggin' Strips people steal my idea I'm suing them for everything they have). The worst part of it is that he was born with a perfectly wonderful first name, Robert. Anyone who decides that Mutt would be a better show business name than Robert should never be allowed near a recording studio. And yet, somehow this disgusting wretch of a man has become one of the most successful record producers in all of popular music.

But Mutt didn't start destroying music right out of the gates. No, early on in his career he produced some sporadically palatable albums by bands like the Cars and AC/DC (including their landmark album Back in Black). The importance of the Cars' music speaks for itself. As for AC/DC, somebody had to write rock and roll songs about balls. And nobody has done it better than Angus Young and company.

But sometime in the early eighties something happened to Mutt. Perhaps somebody ran over a beloved pet, or maybe a demon laid eggs in his brain. Whatever it was, it dashed any hopes that Mutt might actually bring some good into the world. From that point forward, Mutt's "talents" were put to use recording some of the worst abominations in music.

To give you just a taste of the damage that this man has done to the world of music, here is an incomplete list of some of his most ignoble accomplishments:

Mutt has produced an album by Foreigner, two albums by Bryan Adams, one by Nickelback (one of this blog's favorites), one by Michael Bolton, and no less than four albums by everyone's favorite seven-armed, transvestite, cocaine monster lovingly referred to as Def Leppard. But Mutt isn't content to simply ruin rock and pop, he also has to pick on country as well. He produced four albums by Shania Twain, who incidentally was his wife up until 2008 (if there's a more textbook definition of a match made in hell then I'm not aware of it). Come on Mutt, hasn't country suffered enough? Garth Brooks already dug its grave, did you really have to piss on it too?

And these are just the albums he's produced. He's also had his filthy hands involved in the production of individual songs by such hemmorrhage-inducing artists as Huey Lewis and the News, Celine Dion, the Backstreet Boys, Billy Ray Cyrus, Britney Spears and the Jonas Brothers. The mediocrity makes my head spin.

His most recent assault on good taste is a song he helped produce on the new Lady Gaga record called "You and I" (there's an umlaut in there, but God help me I can't bring myself to type it). The song plods along like a morbidly obese man on his way to the buffet line. It's also a bizarre ode to the state of Nebraska, which ought to be your first warning sign. I don't count myself among Ms. Germanotta's legions of adoring fans, but even I have to say that Lady Gaga could do much better than Mutt.

Ok, I'm sorry...I've been holding this back throughout writing this, but I just can't do it anymore. I was trying to avoid doing any awful dog puns on the name "Mutt," but I have to open the floodgates. Beware, I'm letting all of them out at once...YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Mutt, it's an understatement to say that you've been a bad dog. Each new album you make is like a new "accident" left on the rug, and it's time someone start rubbing your nose in it. You're in the doghouse Mutt, and I'd prefer it if you'd stay in there forever. Or better yet, maybe it's time we give you the Old Yeller treatment and take you out behind the shed and put you out of your misery. You've been rubbing your ass on the carpet of popular music for too long Mutt. It's readily apparent that old dogs produce shitty albums, so it's time we sent you packing with your tail between your legs.

Whew...that felt good.

Odd Future: A Rant

2011-05-17T16:25:00.000-07:00

Let me begin by saying that I honestly really wanted to like Odd Future. They seemed right up my alley, a couple of young, fresh faced kids from the hip-hop underground with a growing reputation ready to destroy preconceived notions about hip-hop. I was completely ready for a latter-day Wu Tang Clan with more smarts. Yet, while the critical apparatus seems ready to crown them the next big thing, I'm left not just wondering what the fuss is about, but honestly angry that I even gave them as much credit as I did.

Like a lot of people, I was first introduced to the hip-hop collective Odd Future (short for "Odd Future Wolf Gang Kill Them All") a few months ago when the hype they had been generating for some time online reached critical mass and they began getting mainstream media attention. Specifically, I saw this performance on Late Night with Jimmy Fallon:

It's not difficult to see why I was drawn in by these guys. Tyler the Creator and Hodgy Beats are basically running a clinic on intensity here. Plus, from a strictly visual standpoint, they look like no one else in hip-hop. There are no designer clothes or pretentious sunglasses (yeah, I'm looking at you Kanye), no gold chains or diamond jewelry, none of the stereotypical bling of rap. Instead, you get what look like a couple of punk kids (and they are surprisingly young) scaring the daylights out of everybody in the studio. Needless to say, I was excited. I immediately found several of their mixtapes and began listening to them, excited to hear what I was sure would be some of the best hip-hop I'd listened to in a long time. I was instantly disappointed. What I heard was messy, poorly produced and completely lacking the intensity that had initially excited me about them in their live performances. What's more, the lyrics were completely unforgivable in every way imaginable. Not only were the lyrics shockingly misogynistic and homophobic, they weren't even well-written.

I'm embarrassed to admit that I wasn't ready to give up on Odd Future yet, I was still desperate to validate my initial excitement. I chalked up the lackluster recordings to a lack of careful production and decided I needed to give them a second chance. I also decided that I would reserve judgement until the release of the hotly anticipated album Goblin by Tyler the Creator (the de facto leader of the group) which I told myself would definitely be more on point and would live up to the promise of their live show. I was also convinced that I was just missing something, that obviously there was more going on here and I just wasn't listening carefully enough.

Well, after giving a thorough listen (following along with lyrics) to as much of Goblin as I could handle, I have the following to say about all of the press that Tyler and Odd Future have been getting: horseshit.

Honestly, never has an album made me as mad for as many reasons as this one has. To begin with, it's incredibly disappointing musically. Every bit of hype I had been reading about Odd Future praised Tyler as the true mind of the operation, a brilliant producer and a gifted lyricist. Well, I'm not buying any of it. First, in terms of depth and complexity his lyrics are a complete failure. Please, do not let anyone tell you that Tyler is a talented MC, he's just not. To pretend that he is destroys a music that I honestly believe can be incredibly powerful. If you want to hear a better hip-hop lyricist than Tyler the Creator, there are plenty of options I'd be happy to tell you about if you are interested in hearing about them. Secondly, in terms of production, I'm thoroughly convinced there is nothing special about what Tyler does on this album or any other I've heard from the Odd Future collective. I'll grant that his productions are something of a departure from most of hip-hop, and the horror movie ominousness is at least somewhat interesting on its surface. But that is basically the end of the story when it comes to the beats on Odd Future albums. To my ears, Tyler is a one-trick pony when it comes to his production skills. Everything is dark, ominous tones. All brooding and no direction.

But now it's time to acknowledge the elephant in the room. Because the most heinous aspect of Goblin or any of Odd Future's output is not the quality of the songs, it's the lyrical subject matter. Let me first say that I'm no friend of the PMRC and in no way am I advocating for censorship. It should also be noted that I have never bought the argument that violent lyrics cause people to commit violent crimes. So no, I am not afraid that teenagers will go out and try to imitate what they hear Tyler the Creator rap about in his songs, and I'll be the first to say that anybody who says otherwise is full of shit. Furthermore, I'm no prude, and I can more than handle any amount of profanity you could possibly throw at me and could probably dish it out better than most. So Odd Future's reputation for shocking and disturbing subject matter didn't scare me because I assumed that there would be a point to it all. But there isn't. And I can only put up with a rapper casually dropping the word "faggot" so many times before I begin to feel like it's only a cheap joke used simply for shock value. Worse, the almost incessant number of songs about rape and violence against women without any seeming moral commentary goes beyond what you could reasonably call story telling. Tyler and the gang don't even seem to have the decency to allow the opposite sex to be called "women," preferring instead to use any number of epithets, of which "bitch" is among the tamest.

I waffled quite a bit about whether I should even write this post, because a small part of me was afraid that I'd be accused of not seeing the bigger picture or over analyzing things. I've tried to look past my reservations and see some value in this music, but I'm convinced there isn't and I'd be lying to myself if I tried to pretend otherwise. What's more, I am disgusted by the seeming unwillingness on the part of music critics to actually be critical. It's downright unconscionable for the people at Pitchfork and elsewhere to act morally indifferent to Odd Future by writing about how the music is "controversial" or "divisive" instead of what it really is: misogynistic, hateful and downright pathological. Scant few people within the critical community it seems are willing to try and derail the hype machine surrounding this group. One notable exception has been a recent blog post by Sara of the band Tegan and Sara which criticizes the homophobia and misogyny of Tyler's music. The post is poignant and essential reading. Predictably, when Pitchfork linked to the blog post, they did perfunctorily and without any sense that perhaps it was time to step back and take note of what Sara was saying.

I chalk this lack of criticism among the music press up to cowardice. Perhaps the critics are afraid to get steamrolled by a seemingly overwhelming following that Odd Future has garnered in a short period of time. Maybe they think criticizing the lyrical content will make them look like prudes who can't take a joke. Whatever the reason, the complete unwillingness for the critical apparatus to hold Odd Future up to scrutiny is astounding coming from an industry whose entire purpose for existence is to provide subjective commentary about music. Any attempt at objectivity here is completely misguided and pointless. At some point, somebody has to have the intestinal fortitude to stand up and call these artists out. The fact that almost nobody in the power circles of music criticism is willing to do this is shameful. It's time for the critical community to acknowledge that at best this music is the product of a couple of immature dumbasses, and at worst it is the product of sociopaths with no regard for human decency.

I want to make one other thing absolutely clear about Odd Future. The notion that there is something deeper going on in this music than the surface level misogyny and homophobia, or that Tyler is making some kind of meta-criticism of society is a towering pile of bullshit. And the idea that these songs are not meant to be taken literally because they are simply a depiction of what is going on around us is a cop-out of the highest order. Those things could perhaps be said about some of the controversial artists in hip-hop history (NWA, Ice-T and Public Enemy being some of the prime examples) but at some point an artist has to show a glimmer of understanding what exactly they are doing with their lyrics. The best rappers (including some of those in "gangster rap") can do this quite well. Odd Future, however, have not proven themselves capable of this kind of deeper understanding. When they rap about rape and violence, they do so with absolutely no tact or purpose. They are shock for the sake of shock, with no real redeeming value.

I'm sure some people might say that I'm being overly harsh, or that I just don't understand. Perhaps, though I doubt I'm being harsh enough. And I'm also sure that my ranting and raving will do nothing to curb the hype surrounding Odd Future and would only cause derision and mockery from the members of the group if they were to read it. But, I'm not going to sit idly by and watch it all unfold without any commentary. I'll leave you with a little gem from Tyler the Creator's song "Yonkers" which pretty well sums up how he would feel about someone like myself:

They say success is the best revenge
So I beat DeShay up with the stack of magazines I'm in
Oh, not again! Another critic writing report
I'm stabbing any blogging faggot hipster with a Pitchfork

How lovely.

Review: Tune-yards - Whokill

2011-05-03T15:26:00.000-07:00

Based purely on outward appearances, Tune-yards is a "band" that gave me pause at first. The day-glow face paint and hipster haircuts almost sent me running for the hills. But thankfully my mama taught me not to judge books by their covers or musicians by their haircuts, because musically this band delivers some pretty interesting material.

Whokill is the second full-length album by Tune-yards (and no I refuse to use the stylized tUnE-yArDs or W H O K I L L throughout this post). The "band" is essentially a Merrill Garbus solo project with some backing musicians to fill out the sound. Garbus herself plays the ukulele, creates live drum-loops and sings. On Whokill she also enlists the help of a bassist, guitarist and saxophone section.

What stood out about this album to me was its completely unique sonic profile. There really isn't a band out there that sounds quite like this. There are a few recognizable influences (funk, jazz fusion and afro-beat to name a few) but none that really come to the forefront as a dominating influence. And yet Tune-yards isn't genreless in the way that so many other groups are, by piecemealing different styles together into some sort of Frankenstein creation. This album is something of a novelty in modern music, a sound that is actually new. There's a freshness here that makes me wonder (and hope) if what I'm hearing is a taste of what is to come in rock and pop. It's the same kind of feeling I got when I first heard TV on the Radio.

Disjointed and chaotic are two words that immediately came to mind when I first listened to Whokill. Part of that is Garbus' loop-based compositional style, but another huge factor is her completely otherwordly voice. She is constantly playing vocal gymnastics, leaping from a surprisingly deep growl to a high thin falsetto within the space of one syllable. The production quality is also outstanding on all of the songs here, which works in spite of the distinctly lo-fi charm of her first album. Perhaps die-hard Tune-yard fans will think this album is too polished, but I think the added production quality shows off Garbus' ear for arranging and makes the band sound much larger than it really is.

But it must be noted that Garbus' sound really only works the way it should when she lets you have it full-force. The week points on this album are without a doubt the more downtempo quiet moments like "Wooly Wolly Gong" where she begins to sound too much like a typical singer-songwriter, a guise that doesn't fit her as well as it should. Tune-yards only really seem to hit their stride when the music kicks into higher gear on tracks like the opener "My Country," the tongue and cheek toughness of "Gangster" or the lead single "Bizness." In general though, when Garbus lets her songs rock a little bit harder, her unique songwriting comes out more and creates some pretty exciting music.

Below is the video for "Bizness" which cranks up the hipster something fearce, but is worth sitting through for the music.

Audio Lobotomy: Nickelback - All the Right Reasons

2011-04-25T13:51:00.000-07:00

Audio Lobotomy is a new masochistic feature of Universal Sandwich. Each installment of Audio Lobotomy will consist of an unholy experiment whereby I subject myself to the absolute worst albums I can get my hands on in the name of science. During each experiment, I will record my reactions to the songs as I listen to them so that I may document their effect on my psyche. In short, I listen to terrible music so you don't have to.

Today's experiment is Nickelback's 2005 album All the Right Reasons.

Impressions going in:
Nickelback are pretty much the undisputed reigning kings of Sucksylvania. That is both the beginning and the end of my knowledge about this band and their music. I actually had to do a little googling to even decide which of their godawful albums I should use because I knew so little about them. I ended up choosing All the Right Reasons because the internet tells me it is their best selling album, which has to put it right up there with the Titanic or the Hindenburg on the list of history's worst man-made disasters. I'm certain I've heard at least half a dozen Nickelback songs on the radio before, but for the life of me I can't bring any of them to mind. Looking over the song titles on all of their albums doesn't jog my memory either. I keep trying to hum the chorus to one of their songs, but every time it just ends up being Creed's "Higher." Something tells me that's not a good sign. Also, it turns out Nickelback is from Canada. Make of that what you will...

The Songs:

1) Follow You Home -
Here we go...
The guitars at the beginning alone tell me this is a band that takes itself entirely too seriously. Ooo, the lyrics are all dark and gritty. Obviously this guy's a rebel. Is there like a rhyming dictionary of bad-boy cliches? Because if not, I think Nickelback could write it.

2) Fight for All the Wrong Reasons -
Apparently repeating each line in a whisper is totally fucking metal. Ugh, this song is kind of disturbingly sexual. I do not like thinking that being in Nickelback can get you laid. We just had our first cookie monster scream on the album, you know what that means, DRINK! And, somehow that's immediately followed by a Bohemian Rhapsody-like vocal overdub section.

3) Photograph -
Ballad time! Ok, so this one I recognize. It seems like the kind of song that the student senate in high school would totally choose as your "class song." I can just see the sepia-toned photo montage now. Nostalgia - making half-wit rock stars even richer since 197? Seriously, I don't know how many ways this band can find to say "think about the past and get sad, and then buy our album."

4) Animals -
Ok, now we're back to melting faces. First mention of the devil, boy didn't see that one coming a mile away. It sounded like he just said "manimals." I think I actually like that better. "Must have wound up on the floor while we were switching our positions/ I guess they knew that she was missing/ As I tried to tell her dad it was her mouth that I was kissing." Excuse me while I vomit all over my keyboard.

5) Savin' Me -
Leaving the "g" off of "saving" tells the listener that this is a band that isn't afraid to let its hair down. I'm pretty sure this song is just a holding pattern for an EPIC CHORUS. A big echo effect over the repeating line "I'm fallin'" is the kind of touch that only a band known for its subtlety like Nickelback could pull off.

6) Far Away -
Ok ladies, it's acoustic guitar time, get ready to swoon. Kroeger's voice is kind of like vigorously rubbing sandpaper on your genitals. Add to the list of disgustingly transparent studio effects a distant echo effect on the lyric "Far Away." Seriously, where do they get this stuff?

7) Next Contestant -
So, the line "Just how many heads I'm tearing/ Off of assholes coming onto her" scans alright on paper, but the way he delivers it makes it sound like he's doing something unspeakable to your no-no area. Basically this song is "I'm a bigshot rockstar with a super hot girlfriend, and if you look at her sideways I'm gonna beat you up, or at least sing an angry song about it." Oh good, he just blamed the girl getting harassed on the outfit she's wearing. Classy.

8) Side of a Bullet -
So, if the title isn't enough of a giveaway, this one's another face melter. You know, when I think of bands with the intelligence and subtlety to pull off a song about gun violence, Nickelback is definitely the first band that comes to mind. If I'm remembering correctly, this song was meant as a eulogy to Dimebag Darrell. Way to throw salt in everyone's wounds, Nickelback!

9) If Everyone Cared -
Piano ballad time, brace yourself for suckitude. Hmm...I wonder which Hallmark greeting card they stole the lyrics to this song from. My heart is so warmed, I can't stand it. Or maybe I ate too much spicy food for lunch.

10) Someone that You're With -
This song pretty much consists of one ham-fisted four-note guitar riff repeated ad-nauseum. They just keep at it, even if it doesn't fit the lyrics anymore. That's persistence....or something.

11) Rockstar -
Last song, the light at the end of the tunnel. Oh great, it's a country song. Just what this musical abortion needed. Ahh...yeah, this chorus, I remember this too. I wish I hadn't. Rhyming tassels with assholes takes things to an all new level of ineptitude. Shout out to Pez dispensers = best part of the album so far. I've never known anybody who could make sex, drugs and rock and roll seem so unappealing until now.

The final verdict:
Nickelback's frontman Chad Kroeger is a musical genius the likes of which Rock has never seen. The dulcet tones of his voice and the soaring melodies in each Nickelback song are sublimely transcendent. What's more, his songwriting abilities make him a modern day Dylan. His lyrics display subtlety and nuance while still letting you know what a totally bitchin' badass rockstar he is. I can hardly wait to listen to more Nickelback so that I might drink from the fountain of pure enlightenment.

Just kidding! This thing sucks like the wind. I'm gonna go wash my ear canals with sulfuric acid.

If you have any suggestions for other terrible albums I should torture myself with, please email me at scott.unlsandwich@gmail.com

Leftovers: Daniel Johnston/Yo La Tengo - "Speeding Motorcycle" live over the phone

2011-04-22T09:48:00.000-07:00

Leftovers is an ongoing feature of Universal Sandwich which unearths buried treasures of the music world. In each episode of Leftovers, I dig out the choicest of the moldy gems from the back of the Universal Sandwich fridge and explain why I think they are undeserving of the trash heap.

On today's plate of Leftovers is a bit of live music obscurity from February 4th 1990. Daniel Johnston is unfortunately more known for his mental instability than his remarkable songwriting talents. But if you look beyond his lifelong battles with mental instability you will find one of the rawest, most gut-wrenchingly honest songwriters ever.

This recording comes from an hour long variety show that Daniel did on WFMU. Daniel had pre-recorded advertisements, jingles, and fake interviews with Daniel voicing all of the parts and then playing them over the phone to be broadcast over the radio. But the shining moment in all of this was when he sang his song "Speeding Motorcycle" over the phone with the help of the band Yo La Tengo who had been booked for an in-studio performance.

What results nothing short of a lo-fi masterpiece. This performance is oozing with a sort of naive charm that any other artists would die to have. The innocence and child-like exuberance is apparent in Daniel's voice. And the way that Yo La Tengo are able to tenuously hang on to the performance using what they could hear over the phone is nothing short of incredible. The sound quality, is of course sub-par, and Daniel's voice may take some getting used to, but this is all overshadowed by the goofy boyishness of Daniel's voice which perfectly match lyrics like this:

speeding motorcycle
of my heart
speeding motorcycle
lets be smart
because we dont want a wreck
we can do alot of tricks
we dont have to break our legs
to get our kicks

They're silly, of course, but underneath that there is a kind of sophistication, an ability to explain something as complicated as love with a child's sense of simplicity.

Listen to the track below, and you can also find the entire broadcast of which it is a part here.

Check out the new Beastie Boys video

2011-04-21T08:02:00.000-07:00

Yesterday the Beastie Boys released the video for the single "Make Some Noise" off their upcoming album Hot Sauce Committee pt 2 due in stores next week. The video is part of a longer short film which premiered at Sundance Film festival this year. The video has cameos from seemingly anyone who has every played a comedic role in Hollywood, and the performance by Elijah Wood as a young Ad Roc is particularly spot-on.

Beastie Boys - Make Some Noise - Free Music Videos - Top Songs

Rant: Kanye West's messiah complex is not good for hip-hop

2011-04-15T09:09:00.000-07:00

The hip-hop community has an obsession with crowning new royalty. It seems that every time a new buzzworthy artist crops up, the discussion inevitably turns to whether or not he or she is the next great hope. When people aren't arguing about whether or not hip-hop is dead, they are debating who can save it. Hip-hop's de facto savior du jour for the past six or seven years has undeniably been Kanye West. The producer turned rap superstar has enjoyed near universal acclaim since his debut album College Dropout in 2004. His sales are among the highest in the industry and every new release is a major event. Seemingly the only person more impressed by Kanye West than the fans and critics is Kanye West.

And therein lies the problem. West's ego is an entity unto itself. By now it has consumed the rest of his personality to the point that the only thing remaining is a comically absurd real-life Tracy Jordan. The listening public seem more than happy to look past his rampant materialism, his inflated sense of self and his public temper tantrums when he doesn't get the recognition he feels he deserves from award shows. They are willing to look past all of that because Kanye West, as he is not afraid to keep telling us, is a "great artist." Well, I hate to be the turd in the punchbowl folks, but when it comes to rapping, he isn't even very good.

Is he a gifted producer? Absolutely. Is he at least a tiny step above most top forty rappers when it comes to lyrics? Perhaps, but only just barely. At the end of the day, for me West is 90% hype and only 10% substance. His last 3 or 4 records in particular are filled with graceless goofy lyrics that, while they make a pretense to depth or profundity, are ultimately uninspired. What's most irritating about Kanye West's fame is that it completely overshadows the truly talented artists in hip-hop. It's a tragedy, and one in which I think fans and critics are complicit. By passing him off as the great creative mind in modern hip-hop, the hive mind is telling the unwitting public that they need look no further than Kanye West when looking for the best and brightest in hip-hop. But I've seen what a truly gifted MC can do. I've heard verses from artists with a fraction of West's album sales that are powerful, that make you weep, that astound you with their honesty. I've also heard verses where it's clear that the MCs aren't taking themselves too seriously. These artists are self-aware and are willing to look at themselves and hip-hop with a critical eye, to be self-deprecating. And that's something that Kanye West is simply not capable of.

I've heard it speculated that West's larger-than-life persona is all part of the show, that his ballooning ego is some kind of meta-critical performance art. While this is an interesting theory, I just do not buy it. If Kanye West is to hip-hop what Stephen Colbert is to punditry, then I think he would have to be much funnier than he is. Sure, his antics can be amusing from time to time, but I see him in the same light as Charlie Sheen. You cannot help but laugh a little bit at the absurdity of it all, but it seems more like schadenfreude than anything.

It should be said that Kanye West is far from being the first hip-hop artist to have a large ego. And I want to make it clear that I'm not saying that ego and braggadocio don't have their rightful place at the hip-hop table, they do. In fact you can trace this kind of attitude back to hip-hop's earliest days when teenagers in the Bronx were battling each other (on the mic as well as on the turntables or the dance floor). But the difference here is that Kanye West isn't some young kid trying to carve out a name for himself in a ghetto where every brown face is just another statistic. He's a multi-millionaire who is known worldwide, and if he isn't self-aware enough to laugh at himself every once and awhile, then the whole thing falls apart.

Okay, so if Kanye West is not worthy of the hip-hop crown, then who is? Well, that's a question that I'm afraid to say I do not have an answer for. The problem I see is that if hip-hop needs a savior (and I'm not completely convinced it does), then that artist must be able to combine talent with a willingness to be self-aware while still being popular enough to reach a wide audience. I don't see anyone on the scene right now who can do all of that. The closest I can think of is someone I wrote about recently, Lupe Fiasco. Yet, while he's definitely more talented than Kanye and certainly popular, he still suffers from an inability to let his ego take a backstage to talent. He's ultimately Kanye in new clothes. Artists like Mos Def and Talib Kweli who have the ability to write truly gut-wrenching lyrics do not enjoy nearly the amount of popularity that Kanye West does. And artists willing to take the piss out of hip-hop and themselves like Busdriver don't even come close.

What it all comes down to is that the listening public has to start being better fans. I think Kanye's biggest problem is that he's decided that he is the only person who can "save" hip-hop and nobody wants to tell him otherwise. If fans and critics aren't willing or able to see through the cloud of hype surrounding Kanye West, then he will only continue to think that he's God's gift to music. At the end of the day, if hip-hop needs to be saved from anything, it's Kanye West.

TV on the Radio release film with new album Nine Types of Light

2011-04-13T13:54:00.000-07:00

If you haven't yet heard the new album Nine Types of Light by art-rock band TV on the Radio, do yourself a favor and give it a listen. Or, better yet, watch the movie...

Not content to be simply the coolest of the cool bands on the block, TV on the Radio decided to venture into film making as well. Packaged with the deluxe edition of Nine Types of Light is a DVD with an hour-long film that serves as an extended music video for every song on the album. Luckily for those of us without the cash reserves to fork over $60, the band has also put the full video on youtube for free.

The film features both live action segments and excellent animation (appropriate, since lead singer Tunde Adebimpe worked as an animator before forming the band) all woven together by interstitial bits which were directed by Adebimpe himself. The film is extremely well put together and compliments the album (which is also excellent) quite well. It's easy to see why a band like TV on the Radio would decide to do something like this, and not just because their lead singer also has a budding film career. There has always been a certain grandeur and vastness to this band's sound that seems to be perfectly suited to this kind of cinematic treatment.

The quality here also makes me wonder why more bands today aren't finding ways to make their music more of a multimedia experience. While it's one thing to make videos for the singles from an album, it's entirely another to create visuals for the entire album. I can't help but wonder if doing more of this kind of creative packaging with music wouldn't help spark some life into sluggish album sales across the industry (though perhaps a less "deluxe" and more cost effective edition with simply the album and the DVD would be preferable to one that includes vinyl, cd, dvd, digital download AND a t-shirt).

Judge for yourself below. Highlights of the film include the animation, bright colors, a Prince impersonation by Adebimpe, Peanuts cosplay, zombie killing andwhyareyounotwatchingthisalreadyseriouslydoitnow...

All versions of the album, deluxe and otherwise, can be purchased at TV on the Radio's website.

Leftovers: Black Moth Super Rainbow - "Sun Lips"

2011-04-12T17:07:00.000-07:00

Editorial Note: This is the inaugural edition of a new periodic feature within the Universal Sandwich blog project that I'm calling Leftovers. Leftovers seeks to unearth buried treasures of the music world. Each episode of Leftovers will feature a song or album lost to time and/or obscurity. It's my job to dig out the choicest of these moldy gems from the back of the Universal Sandwich fridge and explain why I think they are undeserving of the trash heap.

Today's leftovers is the track "Sun Lips" by Black Moth Super Rainbow. BMSR are a band I stumbled across completely by accident. I was first introduced to them in 2007 when they served as the out-of-left-field opening act for indie-rap phenom Aesop Rock. Not only were BMSR a refreshing change of pace from the typical no-name rapper that most hip-hop artists pick as their opening act, they also put on one of the most surprising and compelling live shows I've seen.

What drew my attention to BMSR was their unique sound coupled with a strong (if somewhat unnerving) stage presence. In terms of sound, BMSR have firm roots in both psychedelic rock and electronica. Hearing them out of context, one could easily be forgiven for thinking BMSR was the work of a DJ and not a full band. There is something distinctly otherworldly and machine-like about the way that BMSR blend vintage keyboards with rock instrumentation that makes it seem as if it were made by pasting together samples. The reality is that this sound is created by an extremely tight ensemble of fairly traditional instruments (with the possible exception of their persistent use of the vocoder). The performance I saw consisted of a vocalist/keyboardist who sat cross-legged on the floor in the corner of the stage and sang all his vocals through a vocoder, a sweat-band wearing bassist who danced around the stage like something out of a jazzercise tape, and a female drummer who absolutely brutalized her drumkit and whose intesnity left me picking my jaw off the floor (seriously, she killed it). During all of this, a video collage consisting of seemingly ad hoc and at times disturbing clips (I distinctly remember several minutes of a Richard Simmons exercise routine from the 1980s) which added to the surreal ambiance of this band. The whole experience felt like something out of Andy Warhol/The Velvet Underground's Exploding Plastic Inevitable.

"Sun Lips" is probably the strongest track off of BMSR's third LP Dandelion Gum from 2007. What is most surprising about "Sun Lips" is that it proves that despite BMSR's strong experimental and surrealist tendencies, they are capable of writing astoundingly hummable pop melodies. The vocals have an anthemic quality that makes the entire song seem like one giant chorus without any verses. There is a colorful tone to the music, accented by the swirling flute sounds and summery lyrics. But if this song depicts a Summer day, it's obviously one which includes large quantities of psychotropic drugs, something which gives the slightest hint that ominous things are afoot. There is poetic irony in the fact that a song about something as natural and organic as a summer sunrise would sound so mechanical and robotic. What results is something of a machinistic love song, evocative of the clash between the natural world and the world of machines. "Sun Lips" may not be BMSR's newest material, but it is every bit as compelling to listen to now as it was when I first heard it performed live.

Listen to the song, and see the rather unsettling music video here:

Review: Lupe Fiasco - Lasers

2011-04-04T15:47:00.000-07:00

Lasers, the third outing by backpack rap sensation Lupe Fiasco, is an album that almost wasn't. Fans have been waiting for a follow up to the concept album The Cool since it came out in 2007. Initially, Lupe Fiasco announced that his third (and supposedly final) album would be a three disc release called LupE.N.D. which has since been delayed indefinitely. From there, the album went through several name changes, from the Great American Rap Album, to We Are Lasers, to simply Lasers (in case it isn't readily apparent from these titles, Lupe has never been one for being understated, his concept for the Cool is only further evidence of this,) But the roller coaster ride was far from over. Despite the fact that it had a release date of late 2009 and several singles had been released (some of which never actually did make it onto the album) Lasers didn't actually get released until last month. According to Lupe himself, the album had actually been complete for some time, but was being held up by Atlantic Records. But after several years of waiting, and an online petition to Atlantic to release the record that quickly received 30,000 signatures, Lasers finally hit the shelves. Unfortunately, the head scratching didn't stop there.

For all the anticipation and hype leading up to its release, the actual album turned out to be every bit as confusing and difficult to pin down. Critical response seems to be a resounding "meh," and I can't say I disagree very much. There has been a considerable degree of rumbling in critical circles about the increasing pop sentiment on this album. The Allmusic reviewer, for example, complained of the album's "lumbering, overwrought choruses." While there certainly are some disappointments here that likely arise from the concessions Lupe had to make to finally get this album released, I for one think that to call the hooks and choruses in Lasers a departure is largely ignorant of what Lupe has always done in his music. Lupe's shtick has always been superb rhymes interspersed with hooks painted in broad strokes. Just look at the two most well-known tracks off his debut, "Daydreamin'" and "Kick, Push." Neither of these is devoid of pop overtones. The Jill Scott chorus from "Daydreamin'" is positively infectious, and the strings sampled from Celeste Legaspi's "Bolero Medley" on "Kick, Push" give the song a syrupy grandeur for which any pop composer should be envious.

While the poppier side of Lasers shouldn't be seen as a complete betrayal, there is no denying that the album has its share of disappointments. To my ears, there are two important things missing from this album. The first is trajectory. While the album starts with some strong tracks, particularly the musical indictment of Obama "Words I Never Said," what follows is a sharp decline in quality. The first signs of trouble come on the song "the Show Goes On," which strangles the life out of a sample of Modest Mouse's "Float On." That Lupe would look to the indie rock darlings for inspiration is interesting, but the execution leaves a lot to be desired. Easily the best track on the album, "All Black Everything," comes as the penultimate track on the album. The song imagines a comically absurd alternate reality in which racism doesn't exist. In this world, things are completely turned on their head, Bill O'Reilly eulogizes Malcom X (who dies as an old man) by reading from the Qur'an. Lines like "Somalia is a great place to relax in/ Fred Astaire was the first to do a backspin/ The Rat Pack was cool group of black men" illustrate the kind of lyrical brilliance Lupe is capable of. Any sense of trajectory gained here, however, is completely lost on the album ending "Never Forget You" which features John Legend who completely overshadows Lupe in the worst way possible.

But perhaps even more conspicuously absent from this album is any sense of the quirky nerd-friendly side of Lupe that made him a critical success in the first place. Gone are the geeky rhymes about robots, skateboarding and Japanese culture from Food & Liquor or the grand (if silly) prog-rap sensibility of the Cool. What we are left with is a relatively ordinary hip-hop album from an artist whose appeal is based largely on his ability to be anything but ordinary.

The few bright moments on Lasers make it worth at least a listen, but to see Lupe Fiasco in his more consistent, less adulterated form, first-time listeners should stick to his first two albums.

This almost makes up for having to listen to Rebecca Black's voice.

2011-04-02T16:07:00.000-07:00

Assuming you haven't been living in a cave for the past three weeks, you no doubt are aware of Rebecca Black's brain-rotting piece of autotune hell known simply as "Friday." If not, I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news. You may also be aware of the dozens of different covers and remixes that have been popping up on youtube. The inevitable death metal cover is but one such example.

But, for my money, the best take on "Friday" came just last night on Late Night With Jimmy Fallon. In a moment of cross-promotional genius, Stephen Colbert agreed to sing the now ubiquitous song on Late Night if viewers could raise $26,000 for the the charity donorschoose.org. Well, the public did their part, and Colbert kept his promise.

The result is entertainment of the highest order. With backing by the Roots (who deserve a medal for being the hardest working band in the biz) and with a little help from Jimmy Fallon, Taylor Hicks, and the Knicks City Dancers, Colbert completely knocks it out of the park. The sheer exuberance of this (and the hilarious crooner intro) totally outshines the comically terrible lyrics. Also, it's amusing to see a real MC like Black Thought take on the groan worthy "rap."

Like a Phoenix Rising From the Ashes (or that mangy dog you thought you got rid of)

2011-03-31T13:46:00.000-07:00

Fancy seeing you here.

Ok, so I suppose the two year absence is worth acknowledging. I was having fun writing this blog and updating infrequently. Then I got restless, and started posting stuff to the Examiner, which was fun for awhile. But being a busy grad student sometimes means that you have other things on your plate, and well, I stopped updating regularly. As it turns out, if you do that for too long, the people who run the Examiner get impatient and delete your account. It kinda left a bad taste in my mouth and turned me off blogging for a few months.

But, like a boxer who doesn't know when he's licked, I decided I wanted to step back into the ring so to speak and start writing again. Of course, I was still a busy grad student (and let's be honest, lazy) so it got put off for a very long time. But since graduating I've found the perfect way to make time for things like blogging: Unemployment! (On a totally related note, anybody looking to hire a Musicologist? My special skills include overthinking music, gluttonous eating, growing facial hair, and I don't want to brag but I'm getting pretty good at drinking beer and doing crossword puzzles.)

So, um, yeah. I'm back baby! I'll do my best to not disappear indefinitely anymore, make this site more awesome by the day. And of course I'll be sure to keep up the snark and over-analysis you've forgotten you loved.

Ok, You (Hadn't) Asked For It: MUSIC!

I'll take it easy for now, and instead of really writing something insightful, I'll just share a few of the artists I've been listening to over the past few months. Here goes:

1) Devotchka - 100 Lovers

Ok, full disclosure, my opinion of Devotchka may be tainted by the fact that they hail from Denver, just a few miles down the road from the Universal Sandwich compound, and that I've seen their drummer in tights (oo-la-la!) as part of a band of drunken patriots who've formed an unholy alliance with the dark side of the force in the name of partying and booty shaking across the galaxy (that's all I'm gonna say about that *wink*)
But biases aside, if you haven't checked out these hometown heroes yet, now's the time to get yourself right with the music gods and give them a listen. I'll let you do the googling to find out how critics attempt to describe this band, and I'll just say that they draw on a lot of musical styles to create some really gorgeous and fun music. 100 Lovers has been on heavy rotation in my playlist since it came out in part because of how well crafted and layered of an album it is. Definitely worth picking up.

2) Mariachi El Bronx - Mariachi El Bronx

Speaking of Devotchka, as I write this, I'm listening to another band that they have recently shared the stage with. The standard boilerplate on Mariachi El Bronx is that it's the result of LA hardcore punk band The Bronx deciding that they wanted to record a mariachi album under the alter ego Mariachi El Bronx. And now they alternate between playing sets as the Bronx and under their mariachi moniker. But the real surprise here has less to do with guitarrons and mariachi horn lines and more to do with excellent pop songs hiding under it all. The consistent songwriting is what allows this album to survive what might otherwise be a somewhat thin gimmick.

3) Gang of Four - Content

The most exciting part here is that I get to write about an entire album of new materials from one of post-punk's most important bands. That it's actually a pretty good album is just the icing on the cake. Sure, it's no Entertainment!, but that's like expecting the Beatles to just keep recording Sgt. Pepper over and over again; eventually you're gonna have to record Magical Mystery Tour. But, as consolation prizes go, you could do a lot worse than Content.

4) Arcade Fire - The Suburbs

Ok, so I'm very late to the Arcade Fire bandwagon. I was aware of them during the Neon Bible but I never bothered listening to them until shortly after The Suburbs was released last Summer. And to be honest, I don't really mind that I waited. I know die-hard Arcade Fire fans would probably crash their fixed gear bicycles if they were to hear me say it, but The Suburbs is just a much better album than Neon Bible. There is just a much greater sense of grandeur here, which is absolutely what their "chamber rock" is best suited for. Also, a belated pat on the back should be given to the folks at the Grammy's for awarding this with album of the year, even if it did cause the general public to utter a collective WHO!??

There are of course more artists I've been listening to (including a recent rediscovery of the Butthole Surfers), but I'll spare you for now, or at least until I collect my thoughts enough to write some actual record reviews.

Dan Deacon's "Wet Wings" takes sample-based music to new heights

2009-04-03T15:43:00.001-07:00

Dan Deacon - Broms

I just picked up electronic music artist Dan Deacon's newest album Bromst. I'm still listening to the album, so I'll spare readers a full review, especially since it's already been done, several times. But there is one song on the album that Deacon gets so right that it cannot be ignored.

The song "Wet Wings" is based entirely around a sample of an acappella rendition of the traditional folk song "The Day is Past and Gone" sung by Jean Ritchie. Deacon stacks multiple layers of Ritchie's haunting vocal loop on top of one another until there is a full choir of voices interlocking and blending with one another in an overwhelming wash of sound. It is something like a modern day version of a tape loop piece by Steve Reich but infinitely more approachable. What works so well "Wet Wings" is the way that Deacon uses the Jean Ritchie sample as a jumping off point for his sonic explorations. Deacon is certainly not the first electronic musician to use samples of folk tunes in his music, but rarely are the samples such an integral part of the song as they are here. The difference between the way that Deacon samples folk music in "Wet Wings" and the way that someone like, say, Moby does on the album Play, is that Deacon is not just peppering the song with samples to make for a "spicier" sound. While Moby may have recontextualized folk songs by putting them on an electronica album, he uses them more as quotations than as true structural elements. In "Wet Wings," however, the sample is not just a sample, it is the entire foundation of the piece. Deacon uses Ritchie's voice like a musical instrument, not like a dusty relic to be trotted out for sonic effect. By doing so, he is able to create something entirely new and completely unrecognizable from its original form. By the time Deacon has added all the layers of voices, the lyrics are no longer discernible and all you hear is a wall of voices bleeding together in a way that sounds worlds apart from Ritchie's lone voice in the original recording. This is a totally different approach to sampling where the sample is an integral part of creating new music, and it is precisely what makes what Deacon has done so breathtaking.

Deacon is currently touring to support Bromst. Colorado residents can catch Dan in concert April 30th at the Bluebird Theater in Denver.

For more info:

Dan Deacon's Myspace Page

Buy tickets to the show at Bluebird Theater

Support me on the examiner!

2009-03-26T13:37:00.001-07:00

Loyal readers (can I really pluralize that?)

I have some great news that will maybe change the way this blog operates. I recently took a position writing music related blog articles for a Denver based website called the Examiner. Basically I write three articles a week of the same nature I (infrequently) wrote here. I have already posted my first article, check it out at my page here: http://www.examiner.com/x-6554-Denver-Music-Examiner
There's also a neat little button over on the right hand side of this blog.

I get paid very very little for each hit I get on my page at the examiner, but it does make it more worth my time the heavier traffic I get. I'd appreciate it if you helped me out. If you like this blog (or even if you hate it) check out my examiner page. Also, if you really want to help me out, subscribe to the feed, share the link with your friends, digg my articles and just generally plug my articles as much as possible.

As for the future of this blog, I intend to keep this up and running for the time being. I will probably repost most of those articles here as well as soon as I find the best way to do that. But do read the articles on the examiner page so I'm sure to get as much traffic as possible. Depending on the way things go, I may post things here that don't go on the examiner, so keep an eye out for that as well.

Thanks for your support, and help me make this a successful endeavor.

Confessions of a Kanye Virgin

2009-02-08T16:17:00.000-08:00

So, I've definitely been aware of Kanye West's solo career since at least College Dropout. He would have been hard to ignore. And of course, I've heard all of the major singles along the way. I think even most modern cave dwellers have been exposed to the near ubiquitous airplay of songs like "Gold Digger" or "Jesus Walks."

But until only last week when I picked up a copy of Graduation, I had never actually listened to any of his albums (go ahead, let out those gasps of astonishment and disgust). The truth is, anybody as heavily hyped as Kanye automatically makes me wary. Whether it is because of a fear of disappointment or my resentment of being told that somebody is the "savior" of an art form, I'm perennially late to jump on the bandwagon.

But even after listening to Graduation I still don't think I'm ready to drink the Kool-aid. Because no matter how consistently inspired Kanye's productions are, I still find it hard to ignore the elephant in the room: his lyrics. While there are definite flashes of brilliance, it's hard for me not to think that Kanye should have stayed in the production booth and left the rhyming to those more suited to it than him.

This isn't to say that Kanye West isn't talented, his production skills border on the sublime and when he produces songs by more talented MCs (prime examples are Mos Def and Talib Kweli)the results are astounding. But Kanye's own lyrical abilities often aren't enough to carry a song on their own and listeners are left with cringe inducing rhymes like:
So we gon' do everything that Kan like,
Heard they do anything for a Klondike,
Well, I'd do anything for a blonde dyke

And I know by now I should be used to rappers' full frontal assault on the English language and fully expect the kind of slang that causes grammar teachers to seize involuntarily, but a man has to draw the line somewhere. And, frankly, using the made up word "apologin'" is an offense to all things decent in language.

I was talking with a friend recently about my reservations about Kanye's music, and he told me that he enjoys it strictly in terms of sheer ego. For him, just to hear West's elephantine ego play itself out over the course of an entire album was entertainment enough. And I understand that viewpoint, if I didn't I wouldn't have a guilty pleasure for AC/DC. But for whatever reason when it comes to hip-hop, I'm pickier and less forgiving about lyrics. Perhaps I should just take my friends advice and just shut up and marvel at the absurdity of it all.

The Beef with Hip-hop

2008-11-20T21:38:00.000-08:00

I used to think hip-hop wasn't music.

That's a strange thing to consider for a person who is now seriously contemplating a career as a "hip-hop scholar" (the fact that such a career path even exists is baffling to some, including myself).

My reasons weren't anything original, I hear the same things from people today. It doesn't have melody or harmony (even though it really does, sometimes in very interesting ways). It's poetry said to a beat, not music. But mostly, I think the younger me was just troubled by the bad hip-hop that of course is what gets the most airplay.

I shared my opinion on hip-hop with my friends in high school. Because I had smart friends, they disagreed with me. It became a common topic of conversation between my friend Dan and I. Dan was, and still is, a much smarter person than I, and he pretty much tore my argument apart. Though I never conceded the point to him, I'm very glad that he pushed the issue and planted the firsts seeds of doubt.

I could excuse my ignorance by saying that I hadn't yet heard of John Cage or any of the other major composers of the "real music" tradition who challenged everything we thought we knew about what constituted music. I was not yet operating under the "humanly organized sound" definition of music that seems to be the norm now (and which still isn't perhaps entirely adequate).

But I won't make any such excuses except to say that I hadn't heard any hip-hop that I thought was of any merit (and frankly, I think growing up white in South Dakota didn't make it any easier for me to appreciate hip-hop either).

I'm not entirely sure when I first started liking hip-hop, probably sometime in college. But I do remember quite vividly the first time a hip-hop song completely floored me. Of all things it was a musical guest appearance on "Chappelle's Show." Mos Def and Talib Kweli were performing as Blackstar. They did a song called "What Beef Is," a track they never commercially released. I remember just being completely blown away by it. It was the first time I understood how powerful hip-hop could be and what a sublime experience a truly great hip-hop performance is. The song had all the in-your-face vitriol that first drew me to punk some five years earlier.

I would say it was probably that experience that first made me really pay attention to hip-hop, to seek out hip-hop that was better than what I could hear on the radio. Of course, what I discovered is that there was so much great music to listen to that I am embarrassed now to think that I ever questioned it at all.

And that's why I cringe whenever I hear somebody say that they like any music except "country and rap." I'd venture to guess that most people who say that haven't sought out anything in either of those two genres beyond what makes top forty radio. I'm not going to pull out the "all the good hip-hop is underground" cliche because it's every bit as wrong as it is tired. It's just that the point of top forty radio is that you aren't expected to actually listen to the music. And that's where I think that people go wrong with hip-hop. They don't actually pay attention to what's going on in the music, they just sort of ignore it and tune in when all the naughty words and misogyny kick in. If people did pay attention, and if they sought out the kind of hip-hop that's intelligent, thoughtful, clever or poignant, they'd be surprised.

I know that not everybody is going to fall in love with hip-hop the way I did. We all have our personal hang ups about music, and some people will never really be able to get into hip-hop. I completely understand, I feel the same way about jam bands. But I do think that just about anybody could find a hip-hop song or artist that they could appreciate on some level if they gave it half a chance.

I could start name dropping here, start a laundry list of all the socially conscious MC's that I love, but the list is too long and people need to discover these things on their own. I'll just say that hip-hop can be extremely powerful. I am constantly reminded of just how powerful it is every time I hear a verse that makes me think, gets me angry or brings a tear to my eye. And if it can do that for me, a white kid with absolutely no idea what life on the streets is like, then I think it can do it for anybody who is willing to sit down and listen for even a moment.

The Band I Hate to Love

2008-10-22T18:00:00.000-07:00

Seeing Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist a couple weeks ago made me remember my conflicted relationship with the band Vampire Weekend (for those of you who aren't total scenesters or don't ever read Pitchfork, Vampire Weekend contributed a song to the movie soundtrack). Vampire Weekend are for me one of those rare bands that you can't quite bring yourself to hate even though you know full well you should.

And, let's be straight here, there are plenty of reasons for me not to like this band. To begin with, there is the unabashedly pretentious ivy league image (the members of the band got together while in school at Columbia, dress for the most part like trust fund babies and have a nasty habit of name dropping in their lyrics). I won't pull a Sarah Palin and go so far as to call them elitist, but they pull off snob chic extremely well, seemingly without the slightest whiff of irony. To be blunt, they seem like total assholes.

Next, there's the sound. Vampire Weekend aren't about to win any awards for originality. Their entire debut album sounds like a shameless ripoff of Paul Simon's Graceland album, which itself was a ripoff of every Afro-pop record ever.

And yet, when I bought Vampire Weekend last Spring, it stayed in my car's cd player for close to a month. Something about its saccharine drenched sweetness appeals to some hidden part of my psyche. I cannot fully explain it.

Sure, it's catchy. And there is the occasional wit to be found in lyrics like "first the windows, then it's to the walls/ Lil' Jon, he always tells the truth." Yet none of that can seem to override my conscious desire to hate their music.

And that to me, is what makes it all so infuriating. Every inch of my being wants this music to be bad, and the fact that I like it just makes me sick. There are fewer things more frustrating than seeing someone you want to fall on their face succeed. It's like watching the bully who beat you up on the playground get into a better school than you and then get elected president. No matter how much you hate them, and how much of an asshole they may be, you can't ignore it when they do something worthwhile.

The Agony of Laffitte

2008-09-19T16:34:00.000-07:00

Spoon
"The Agony of Laffitte"/"Laffitte Don't Fail me Now."

For a brief period of time in the 90's, indie rock had its moment in the spotlight. Bands like Nirvana had proven that the right underground music act could flirt with legitimate mainstream success. Major label's were quick to gobble up bands they were convinced would be the "next big thing." The problem was, not every band can write a Nevermind.

Spoon were one of the bands swept up in the madness. In 1998 they were signed to Elektra by a man named Ron Laffitte. The members of Spoon were smart enough to be wary of the deal, knowing what could happen to up and coming artists signed to major record labels if things didn't go right. But Laffitte reassured the band that they wouldn't simply be forgotten by Elektra. He promised them that their new record A Series of Sneaks would get the promotional funding it so desperately needed to stay alive in a mainstream market.

The money, of course, never came. Unsurprisingly, the record sales didn't live up to Elektra's expectations, Lafitte was fired and Spoon was dropped from the label a mere three months after A Series of Sneaks was released. The band responded by releasing the single "The Agony of Laffitte" and its b-side "Laffitte Don't Fail me Now" on Saddle Creek records. The record took aim at both Laffitte and Elektra CEO Sylvia Rhone.

What's great about the single is not that it's an indictment of the music industry, nor that it's a record about the perils of being on a major label, that's been done before by bands full of vitriol (see the Clash's "Capital Radio" EP or "Complete Control"). What's great about Spoon's tale of woe is how non specific they made it sound. Despite the fact that both Laffitte and Rhone are mentioned by name, there's only the slightest of hints as to what is being lamented. A casual listening to either track without any background knowledge would lead you to believe that lines like "and keep telling yourself there's more to you than her/
but you're no better than Sylvia" are about the betrayal of a lover, not a Chief Executive Officer. In fact, the only reason I know the story behind these two songs at all is because I came across an old Village Voice article by Camden Joy called "Total Systems Failure." The article, like anything Joy has ever written, is well worth reading.

What Spoon manage to pull off on "The Agony of Laffitte" is nothing short of amazing. The musical equivalent to a punch in the gut so convincing that even Laffitte and Rhone would be embarrassed were they ever to hear it. All this done with nary a "fuck you" uttered, at least not verbally. But the feeling of betrayal and anger is all there in the lead singer's voice, a sentiment not screamed or even growled, but hissed, almost whispered.

It's like I knew two of you man
the one before and after we shook hands.

But the act of betrayal is never described, there's no need for it to be rehashed. The accused know exactly where they stand. All that remains is for Spoon to ask the pointed question:

All that I, I want to know
Are you ever honest with anyone?
And I say, no no
Are you honest with anyone?
How does it feel to go home
And not be honest with anyone?

What results is an emotionally wrought gut check for anyone who hears it. Its simply one of the most damning songs of betrayal ever put on wax.

Beck - Modern Guilt

2008-08-12T18:02:00.000-07:00

Beck
Modern Guilt

I've had a few weeks now to digest the new Danger Mouse produced Beck album, and after letting things ruminate a bit I think the album has grown on me. The standard boilerplate response to any new Beck album usually states something to effect that it is unique and innovative but pales in comparison to earlier efforts like Odelay or Mellow Gold.

Well I'm here to call bullshit on that nonsense. As blasphemous as it might sound (I promise to tear up my hipster club card as soon as I finish writing this) I honestly believe that Beck has been matured greatly over the years since Odelay and has become a better songwriter. This is not to say that I think any of his last three albums are necessarily superior to his early work, Beck's "mature songwriter" hat didn't fit him overnight, but it seems clear to me that he has come more into his own now than he had when "Loser" first hit on MTV.

What made Odelay and Mellow Gold so popular was not mature and thoughtful songwriting but a highly developed sense of the absurd and novel. Here was a nerdy white scientologist rapping over delta blues beats with the kind of cockeyed exuberance only a younger Beck could possibly pull off. The novelty of it all could not be denied and it was all very catchy to boot (I still know nearly every ridiculous line of "Loser" by heart). But simply by virtue of his fast growing popularity, Beck knew that he couldn't possibly write five or ten more albums worth of "Where It's At" caliber radio hits and stay relevant.

So the mature songwriter Beck killed the younger funnier Beck, but what he brought with him was a more fully developed sense of melody. Nowhere is this more clear than the haunting "Chemtrails" from the new album. The high breathy vocals display the best thought out melodic arc Beck has ever written. Just like with the previous two albums Guero and the Information, nothing here rocks as hard as a track from the canonized Beck albums. Instead, Beck opts to intersperse soft flowing melodies with driving funk and hip-hop beats. He also seems to have learned from Guero and the Information that if all the slow songs were at the end of the album, the album would seem to drag on and be too front-heavy. Modern Guilt instead alternates between slower and faster songs and seems to end quite quickly.

It's impossible to overlook the amazing production by Danger Mouse. The midas touch of the brilliant producer is in top form here with his trademark dreamy echoes and soul/r&b flourishes. The more I hear from Danger Mouse, the more excited I get to hear who he chooses to work with next. Perhaps Beck and Danger Mouse on the same album is more star power than one could possibly hope for, but I still can't help but imagine the awesomeness that would be a Danger Mouse / Jack White collaboration.

If only we could be so lucky.

Truckasaurus Synaesthesia

2008-08-11T09:05:00.000-07:00

While browsing the sometimes interesting, sometimes infuriating pitchfork site, I came across the following video for the song "Fak!!!" by the electronic music group Truckasaurus:

The stock footage used in the video is of course from the golden era of WWF professional wrestling, an era I remember vividly from my childhood. It shows a match between Hulk Hogan and the Ultimate Warrior, two of my favorite wrestlers from that time period. I am certain that this footage was intended simply to be humorous by virtue of its juxtaposition to the music and its overwhelming homoeroticism (a fact that I can honestly say I was completely oblivious to when I was seven years old). For me though, the video isn't simply humorous nostalgia, it is a pretty good encapsulation of my childhood.

You see, from about 1990 until about 1995 my young life was consumed primarily by two things, professional wrestling and the Nintendo Entertainment System. In those days when free time seemed like a never ending resource, Sunday mornings were spent in front of the television watching WWF and the rest of the week was spent playing Super Mario Bros. 3. If you are my same age, you will no doubt remember the 8-bit digital soundtracks on NES video games, the kind that offered a wide array of synthesized bleeps and bloops as the closest possible approximation of real instruments.

And so, of course, when I heard the l0-fi sythesizer sounds of "Fak!!!" my mind immediately jumped to video games. Which immediately caused a synaesthetic mind fuck explosion when coupled with the oiled Hulkster in all muscled mustachioed glory, a visual already inextricably linked with video games in my mind. Such is the way with music, a techno song by a band I don't know or care to know anything about causes me to get all drippy nosed and nostalgic....and makes me want to play some Excite Bike.

Is this how it really begins?

2008-08-08T14:33:00.000-07:00

Random thought:

I refuse to believe that anybody ever actually intends to start a country cover band. I think they actually start as real bands who can't book any gigs so they give up on everything good and right with the world in order to play Garth Brooks songs for drunk assholes in midwestern sports bars. That, or the lead singer desperately wants to be on CMT but he/she can't write songs so they hire some musicians who probably would rather be in a punk band and teach them to turn their amps down and make that twangy noise with their guitars.

I of course have no statistics or facts to back this up, but my overriding faith in humanity will not let me accept that there is any other way for such a thing to occur.