I'm going to go see my family for the holidays so I won't post for the rest of next week. I'd love to update Dylan Days with a post about Highway 61 Revisited but I'll be too busy stuffing my half-Jewish maw with some sweet Christmas ham. So I will tide you ever with an Hebraic flavored query. I ask you: who is the King of the Jewfro?
Is it Bob Dylan a.k.a. Robert Zimmerman?
Or is it MC5 lead singer Rob Tyner a.k.a. Rob Derminer?
Again, your choices are Dylan
Or Tyner
Choose carefully and let me know! Together we will put to rest a controversy that has been raging for centuries. Permanent Link: 5:16 PM |
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Random er...Thursdays
The Onion's A.V. Club has a feature called "Random Rules" where they get musician to press "shuffle" on their Ipod and offer comments on the first few songs that come up. I figure if I'm going to rip someone off I'm going to rip off the best. The songs can be played under the listings. I now present another Random Friday (or Random Thursday, I'm on a plane tomorrow):
P.J. Harvey, "C'mon Billy" from To Bring You My Love
I've already written about my love for Polly Jean Harvey. This album stands besides Rid of Me as one of two masterpieces. I have a second-hand anecdote about this song. Music journalist Greg Kot of Sound Opinions once sat in on a business meeting at VH1. A bunch of executives screened the music video for this song. When it ended they all sat back, stunned. One finally said "she's too good for this network." Damn right.
Nico, "Eulogy to Lenny Bruce" from Chelsea Girl
One of my favorite records is The Velvet Underground & Nico. I think of Nico's record as a sort of companion to the first VU album. John Cale, Lou Reed and Sterling Morrison play on the record but of course it's dominated by Nico's strange voice. She's trying to sound passionate but her voice does has this mechanical feel to it. That mixture is so unsettling but I love it. This is the last song of the record. What really makes it work for me is the catchy guitar riff repeating itself endlessly. It feels mechanical, too. All this while Nico is trying to make Tim Hardin's song sadder than it already is.
Just to create a digression on my own damn blog post I have to ask: was Lenny Bruce ever funny? I've listened to some of his records and seen this whole retrospective on him at the Museum of Television & Radio. His big ideas seem to be more important to him than being quick with a funny remark. I respect the battles he fought for free speech. But it seems to me Bruce would rather have the lawsuits and make his case there without doing comedy in the first place.
TV on the Radio "Staring at the Sun," from Desperate Youth, Blood Thirsty Babes
Apparently today is Awesome Female Singers Day. We have P.J. Harvey, Nico and now a song Karen O guests on. TV on the Radio has really impressed me with its two albums. I suppose like the Nico song there's a battle between passionate and mechanical sounds going on here. Except here you have these pulsating electronic sounds and angular guitar playing rubbing up against these beautiful soaring vocals. This is a band that comes up with stuff so atmospheric but still grabs you. I hope these guys have a long career ahead of them. Permanent Link: 12:27 PM |
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From the article: "A 21-year-old heavy-metal musician convicted of having sex with a 15-year-old was banned from playing in public for five years by a judge who said he used music to win the favor of underage girls."
Good gravy, can you imagine if we had judges like this in the '70s? The careers of Jimmy Page, Ted Nugent and Gene Simmons would be stopped dead in their tracks.
(I know how many of you want to say "that'd be a good thing." Whatever, I still rock out to "Free-For-All.") Permanent Link: 12:32 PM |
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Steve Martin interview
I really loved Steve Martin's memoirs Born Standing Up: A Comic's Life. The book has a lot of different elements in it, his family life life, what it's like to work club after club, but what I dug the most was the way Martin examined his own approach to comedy. He really said to himself that he'll take comedy to another level. The way he intellectualized his act, probably the first deconstructive comedy routine, is fascinating.
I could write a whole review or I could post this hour long clip from the Charlie Rose show where Martin talks about the book. Rose is hard for me to take sometimes but thankfully Martin's modesty and intelligence shines throughout the interview. Listen to the part, about forty minutes in, where he talks about the difference between art and therapy. I also love his advice on how to make it in show business.
Back when National Lampoon meant more than Van Wilder...
Apparently today is "aspecialthing.com day" becuase here's another post they inspired. Thanks to that I site I learn that National Lampoon magazine has had its entire archives put on DVD-ROM for $49.99. I've seen MAD, Rolling Stones and Marvel Comics do this but unlike those publications there are hardly any reprints of NatLamp floating about. The legacy of Doug Kenney, pre-Republican Party Reptile P.J. O'Rourke, Tony Hendra, John Hughes before he met the Brat Pack and, of course, The Prince of Darkness Michael O'Donoghue are still alive with Saturday Night Live, The Simpsons and really modern comedy in general. It was finding the source that was the hard thing. Once Mr. Sterling lent me the biography of O'Donoghue. After reading it I was ready to devour all that '70s counter-culture goodness but there was none too be found.
NatLamp also had a ton of comic in it, since DC's office were in the same building. Hell, maybe I'll review the Neal Adams-drawn "The Ventures of Zimmerman" for a Dylan Days post (or I can just read one here and another here). There's still plenty more stuff in there, including contributions from the incredible Gahan Wilson. Hmmmm, if there was only a big holiday coming up where he people gave each other big gifts and/or cash to purchase such sundries. Permanent Link: 4:07 PM |
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Dylan Days pt. 2: Bringing It All Back Home
The folk music world had fallen in love with this kid Dylan, who was seen as the heir to Woody Guthrie and Pete Seeger. He had become very famous, both for his own records and other artists covering his songs. In doing so modern folk music became much more famous. So what does Dylan do with when all these well meaning sentiments are coming his way? He throws away the love of the folk music world and heads towards a blues-rock sound. At the 1965 Newport Folk Festival he and his friends from The Paul Butterfield Blues Band ripped through "Maggie's Farm" and "Like a Rolling Stone." Many were incensed that Dylan did not continue the path groomed for him, that of the next great troubadour. That was just the first time the world learned you can't predict Dylan's next move. Folk music's loss was the rest of the world's gain as the next three albums feature some of the most passionate and compelling music he has ever made. I'll be covering those albums, Bringing It All Back Home, Highway 61 Revisited and Blonde on Blonde as well the live album The Bootleg Series Vol. 4: Bob Dylan Live 1966, The "Royal Albert Hall" Concert (actually recorded at the Manchester Free Trade Hall). Many consider them the high point of Dylan's whole career. I know I do. It can be said that over forty years from then Dylan is still living in the shadow of this work. In fact, the works are so complex I'm actually going to devote one post to each album lest I write one giant blog post that's impossible to read (if doesn't kill me that is).
Bringing It All Back Home opens with a song that represents why it was so important Dylan made the leap to rock 'n' roll. "Subterranean Homesick Blues" filters Dylan's satirical point-of-view through the sound of Chuck Berry, specifically the song "Too Much Monkey Business" which features a similar rapid-fire lyrical attack. There's a certain mania in the song that's transferred from Dylan and his band to the listener as the song rollicks along. The sound corresponds to words of hectic modern urban life. There actual is a version of the song that's just Dylan and acoustic guitar that's available on The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare and Unreleased). The message isn't felt when it's just one person churning out a "rag" type number. Those lyrics need a backbeat behind them. The electric guitar licks don't hurt, either. If Dylan was going to reflect the times he lived in he need that rock 'n' roll energy behind him.
Listen to the acoustic "Subterranean Homesick Blues"
All that being said I must admit I prefer the acoustic side of Brining It All Back Home to the electric one. I'm madly in love with "Subterranean Homesick Blues" and "Maggie's Farm" but Dylan and his cohorts don't sound comfortable here. The collaboration with The Paul Butterfield Blues Band at Newport didn't continue to this record. Instead of having one of the best blues-rock combos in the country to back him up Dylan uses a random assortment of friends that had to work under Dylan's rather spontaneous recording style. For that reason or maybe others the band never gets into the right groove with each other. There isn't a lot of creativity or great musicianship on display here. As much as I love the two aforementioned songs they pretty much sound like the same thing with different lyrics over them. The only other great song on the electric side is "Love Minus Zero/No Limit" which showcases the romantic side of Dylan's abstract beat poet persona.
The acoustic songs of side two may not be too different from Dylan's earlier work in terms of instrumentation but they also serve as an evolution in his approach to music. "Mr. Tambourine Man," "Gates of Eden," "It's Alright Ma (I'm Only Bleeding)" and "It's All Over Now, Baby Blue" unleashes a Dylan with far greater vision than what we've heard in the past. When the first three of those songs listed were played a year earlier at the Philharmonic Hall (on the live album I touched on in the last installment) they stood part from the rest of the material in their depth and attitude. Dylan could get angry, listen to "Masters of War," but now that accusatory language was combined with a sense of contemplation that never existed before. Sometimes the lyrics are so surreal they seem impenetrable but the imagery is so strong it doesn't feel like just a parade of oddities. They grab you as tight as anything from The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan but now leave you with an uneasy feeling that's hard to shake. "Gates of Eden" is bewildering but it ends this way: "At times I think there are no words/But these to tell what's true/And there are no truths outside the Gates of Eden." Dylan is asking how can the folk singer's job of telling it like it is, something Guthrie and Seeger always strove to do, be applicable in a world where that's becoming increasingly fractured and manipulated. By the time of the mid-'60s Dylan feels that it is the one who sounds the craziest that's the most sane in this world. This is the reason that these songs ring true for me far more than any of Dylan's earlier work even though they are dense and strange.
The greatest indictment of society Dylan ever released is found in "It's Alright Ma (I'm Only Bleeding)." It strikes a perfect balance employing poetic language and being clear about what the target is here. The target is everything. According to Dylan commerce, the arts, religion, education and a million other factors are draining the human soul. Early in the song he tells us "There is no sense in trying" and "That he not busy being born is busy dying." Misanthropy drips from every stanza. The choruses are meant to provide some kid of relief, the narrator telling his Ma that it's alright. But they seem to be both sarcastic and posses a forsaken feeling, that the narrator has resigned to the fate of existence. The only way Dylan could top it is if he made it his last song. Not on the album but in life.
Thankfully it wasn't. Instead Dylan provided us what I think is his best album Highway 61 Revisited. I'll write more about this in the next Dylan Days post but I've been toying with the idea that the music made during this phase of Dylan's career is "punk rock." I'm uncomfortable when critics retroactively assign music as punk, be it '60s garage band music or '50s rockabilly. But, since I just found out how to embed files onto my blog, listen to this recording of "Maggie's Farm" from that infamous day at Newport and tell me if you think it would have a chance at CBGB's in 1977. I think it would.
I am of course talking about The 7th Annual SF Sketchfest that's Jan. 10th through 27th all over this damn city. It's the first time I'll be here for all of the festival. I don't think I'll be able to afford to see all of the great performances (listed on the festival's aspecialthing.com thread) but there are things happening that I just have to see. Like what? Well, let me make everyone a little jealous and list some highlights:
DAY 1: Thursday, January 10 Opening Night Variety Show and Party: Aimee Mann Paul F. Tompkins Todd Barry Rhys Darby ("Murray" from Flight of the Conchords) Hosted by Kurt Braunohler and Kristen Schaal ("Mel" from Flight of the Conchords) Mezzanine at 8PM 21+
DAY 5: Monday, January 14 The Sound of Young America Live with Jesse Thorn with guests Morgan Murphy, Zach Rogue and more The Eureka Theatre at 8PM
DAY 8: Thursday, January 17 RiffTrax Live at the Castro: Plan 9 from Outer Space with Michael J. Nelson, Kevin Murphy and Bill Corbett from Mystery Science Theater 3000 The Castro Theatre at 9PM
DAY 9: Friday, January 18 An Evening with Dr. Katz Professional Therapist, and Patients with Maria Bamford, Bob Odenkirk and more The Eureka Theatre at 8PM
DAY 10: Saturday, January 19 An Evening with Dr. Katz Professional Therapist, and Patients with Jon Benjamin, Andy Kindler, Eugene Mirman and more The Eureka Theatre at 7PM
Match Game Live: with panelists Patton Oswalt, Bob Odenkirk, Brian Posehn, Maria Bamford, Paul F. Tompkins, Scott Aukerman and host Jimmy Pardo The Eureka Theatre at 9:30PM (I've actually been a contestant on the live Match Game when it plays at the Los Angeles UCB Theatre. It's so damn fun)
DAY 11: Sunday, January 20 Freaks and Geeks Speak! Reunion Panel and Q&A with original cast members Dave (Gruber) Allen, Steve Bannos, Linda Cardellini, John Francis Daley, Samm Levine, Busy Philipps, Martin Starr and creator Paul Feig Moderated by Patton Oswalt Cobb's Comedy Club at 2PM (If nothing else this I will not miss)
DAY 12: Monday, January 21 Comedy Death-Ray: Patton Oswalt, Mary Lynn Rajskub, Brian Posehn, Maria Bamford, Paul F. Tompkins, Doug Benson and hosts The Fun Bunch (Scott Aukerman & BJ Porter) Cobb's Comedy Club at 8PM (If you haven't heard the new Comedy Death-Ray CD, half of which was recorded at last year's Sketchfest, I highly suggest you seek it out)
DAY 16: Friday, January 25 Upright Citizens Brigade: A.S.S.S.S.C.A.T. Matt Besser, Ian Roberts, Matt Walsh, Rachel Dratch, Rob Riggle with guest monologist Neil Patrick Harris (!!!) The Eureka Theatre at 8PM & 10:30PM
DAY 17: Saturday, January 26 The Kids in the Hall Part One: The SF Sketchfest Tribute: The Kids in the Hall in conversation Palace of Fine Arts Theatre at 8PM
DAY 18: Sunday, January 27 The Kids in the Hall Part Two: The Kids in the Hall in a rare performance Palace of Fine Arts Theatre at 8PM
And in March:
Post-Festival Special Event: Wednesday, March 19 A Salute to Gene Wilder Screening of Young Frankenstein, conversation, Q&A and book-signing of the new novel "The Woman Who Wouldn't" with Gene Wilder IN PERSON Post-Festival Special Event The Castro Theatre at 6:30PM
It's the weekend, I can post weird shit. Actually, I think think the syncing is amazing on this clip. Permanent Link: 11:51 AM |
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Friday, December 14, 2007
Random Fridays for 12/14
The Onion's A.V. Club has a feature called "Random Rules" where they get musician to press "shuffle" on their Ipod and offer comments on the first few songs that come up. I was looking for a regular piece for this blog and I figure if I was going to rip someone off I'd rip off the best. I now present the first Random Fridays:
Johnny Cash, "Orange Blossom Special" from At Folsom Prison in 1968
"I have to change harmonicas faster than kissing a duck." I don't know what that actually means but it sounds great coming out of Johnny Cash's mouth. This is a fun fast-paced number from Cash's most infamous live album. The harmonica is indeed the highlight due to the fact that you just don't hear a lot Cash songs where he uses one. Turns out he's not too bad.
I think I'm like a lot of people where the only country music I listen to is Johnny Cash. I should change that and maybe pick up some Hank Williams or Merle Haggard. But I don't listen to Cash becuase I want to hear that Nashville sound. I listen to him because of that unmistakable voice. If he was backed up by an orchestra of tambourines and triangles I probably would still listen to it.
Franz Ferdinand, "Come on Home" from Franz Ferdinand
This is just a great guitar record. The way the two guitars are simultaneously really rhythmic and melodic is great (although the melody for this song is helped by some keyboards). I like to think if Keith Richards and Mick Taylor were students of Gang of Four's Andy Gill it would sound like this. Alex Kapranos's voice resembles Thom Yorke's at the end. That's pretty cool.
Band of Horses, "Is There a Ghost" from Cease to Begin
I think this song is absolutely beautiful but could not get behind the rest of the album. Hey, that's why we have iTunes right? The minimal lyrics of this song gives it a really poetic feeling. You have plenty of space to imagine what the "ghost in my house" could mean. Is that lingering presence of someone who left or died when the narrator "lived alone?" Even if the lyrics are vague the song feels so direct because of the way it just build over three minutes. Permanent Link: 8:56 AM |
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Thursday, December 13, 2007
Dylan Days pt. 1: The Newest Folk Sensation
Between a the new great hits collection/box set and the film I'm Not There people seem to have gone zany for the former Robert Zimmerman. I've always admired Bob Dylan's work, especially what he did when he first went electric. The archetype of the iconoclastic, literate solo performer has always appealed to me (Leonard Cohen, Lou Reed) and Dylan, between his work and his mythmaking, created that archetype. So I decided to explore the man's entire oeuvre, more or less. I'm not going over every album, it seems Self Portrait is a mess not worth bothering with, but I am going to hit all the major points in Dylan's career. While I haven't seen I'm Not There I am going to check out No Direction Home and Don't Look Back as well as try to get my hands on the infamous Eat the Document (there's a pretty good video store here in SF, I think I can get it). Right now let's look at the work that first made Dylan's name.
For someone who loves Dylan I have a rather odd admission to make: I'm not much one for folk music. No, that's not entirely true. I like pre-war American roots music, the stuff Yazoo records puts out. What I don't like is the modern folk music born in Greenwich Village coffee shops and which has even since been life's soundtrack for arrogant, smug middle-class college kids. I don't doubt that it's a reaction to living in San Francisco and witnessing those under the delusion that a rousing sing along can change the world. But I can't understand Dylan without exploring his days as a folkie so I checked out Live at the Gaslight 1962, The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan and The Bootleg Series Vol. 6: Bob Dylan Live 1964 - Concert at Philharmonic Hall.
Listening to the first two albums my dislike of folk was in constant battle between my admiration of Dylan's songwriting talent. Gaslight archives a real young Dylan whose sets still included a lot of traditional songs like "Barbra Allen" and "Cocaine." It's the original songs that standout to me, though. "A Hard Rain's A-Gonna to Fall" predicts the surrealism that would dominate Dylan's lyrics in the future. An embryonic "Don't Think Twice, It's All Right" actually benefits from sounding a lot gruffer, considering the subject matter. I don't mind the traditional numbers, except for the eight-minute long "Barbara Allen," but with the exception of "Moonshiner" none of them had the immediate effect on me that Dylan's song did. I'm far more interested in what he has to say about the times he was living in \then what he could do with songs from another era.
Freewheelin' is almost all original material including "A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall" and "Don't Think Twice, It's All Right." Here I bristle at Dylan displaying some of the attitudes I despise in folk music. I'm uncomfortable listening to "Bob Dylan's Blues" where he tries to sound, right down to the spoken intro, like a grizzled woodsman with nothing but an acoustic guitar and plenty of homespun wisdom. The attempts at humor don't work for me. "Talking World War III Blues" is a less effective take on the nuclear paranoia of the Kennedy days than "A Hard Rain." Exploring Dylan's early days I realized I much prefer when Dylan doesn't make it easy for the listener, when everything isn't spelled out. When it's obvious what the song's about I feel repelled whereas when there's a sense of mystery to the words combined with vivid imagery I'm drawn in.
There are songs on Freewheelin' I enjoy that don't involve "a white ladder all covered with water." I adore "Masters of War" just becuase it's so vicious, beyond any other protest song I've ever heard. With its questions that seem like something out of Buddhist monk training "Blowin' In the Wind" still remains power after years of being a Baby Boomer chestnut. Thinking about it now perhaps it's the best example of why Dylan's lyrics need a certain amount of obtuseness to work. If he just gave us an answer to all these questions like "we should all get along" it would be trite. But to say the answer is something beyond words, something as primal as nature itself makes the song mean something.
I started with a live album and I end with one, from two years later when Bob Dylan had gotten famous and people would shout for songs he used to play to small crowds in little clubs. It finds Dylan transforming, showcasing the strange songs that would appear on the acoustic side of Bringing It All Back Home, including an eleven minute and a half minute long "It's Alright, Ma (I'm Only Bleeding)," introduced as "It's Alright Ma (It's Life and Life Only)." Dylan is laughing throughout the show and he honestly sounds pretty high. He actually forgets the lyrics of "To Ramona" and needs the crowd to help him out (although I'm surprised that doesn't happen more often during Dylan's career considering how many verses are in those songs of his). That hiccup aside it's a great performance with Dylan totally in sync with the crowds, something that would happen less and less over the years. Dylan's so charismatic during the show I'm won over by the straight ahead folk material. The "newspaper songs" that are "Who Killed Davey Moore?" and "The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll" work even if they are so plain spoken because he's rearranging current events that everyone at the time knew about into broader indictments of society.
Joan Baez joins Dylan near the end of the show and while I enjoy both artist (although Baez is someone else I liked more when she got further way from traditional folk music) I don't think they sound so great together. When two voices that are that unique come together they're like two neutrons clashing against each other (geez I hope I remember high school science correctly). Dylan's voice is famously awkward but works perfectly for the songs he's creating. Baez's soprano could have granted here a life as an opera singer. Hearing them together the contrast draws my interest from anything else. But Dylan is alone for the last number, performing "All I Really Want to Do" after numerous audience requests. It closes the show on a high note. The performance contains all the confidence and swagger Dylan employed to make him more than just another folk artist.
Dylan knew he was becoming something larger than just his songs. As he says during the show, which took place on October 31st, "I'm wearing my Bob Dylan mask. I'm masquerading." That mask of "a voice of his generation" is something Dylan would work with and fight against during his continuing career. It adds a dimension to his work that his hero Woody Guthrie, or any artist working before the days of mass communication, never had to deal with. The different masks that Dylan wear throughout his career interests me alongside the actual music. Up net: Dylan goes electric. Rock 'n' fucking roll!
If you haven't listened to Jesse's interview with Steve Albini yet I highly recommend you do so. First of all becuase it's a great interview as only Jesse can do and second becuase it is the inspiration for this post.
It's not a surprise that Albini spends a lot of the interview commenting on the music industry. Nor is it a surprise that those are the comments that really interested me. Albini is came from the world of '80s American DIY punk rock and that informs his take on the music industry today. He is more than happy to see so much of the major label infrastructure fall. He brings up a good point, one I don't think a lot of people notice. There are so many middlemen and excess in both the music industry and the entertainment industry in general. When record companies talk of falling profit a lot of that could mean whereas a high level official used to be able get three idiot nephews cushy jobs now he can only reward one idiot nephew. Albini calls them "the parasitic parts" of the music industry. To see major labels lose the monopoly they have on distributing music to an audience is a positive sigh to Albini. I must admit my sympathies are no too dissimilar.
Albini says this is the best time to start a band. He says anyone can start a MySpace page for their music and achieve an international following. Which I suppose is true. But hearing that I'm reminded, as odd as it may sound, the 2004 Brad Bird film The Incredibles. Syndrome, the villain voiced by Jason Lee, describes his big evil plan as thus "I'll give them the most spectacular heroics the world has ever seen! And when I'm old and I've had my fun, I'll sell my inventions so that everyone can have powers. Everyone can be super! And when everyone's super...no one will be." If every artist is on the same level than nothing sticks out. The onslaught of bands just becomes kind of a wash.
As great as it might be that traditional radio and MTV are dying the fact is we need some people to have discriminating tastes to discover new music for us. I can't imagine many people are saying to themselves "finally, I don't have to worry about the man telling me what to listen to. I'm just going to sift through the countless number of MySpace and YouTube pages to find my next favorite artists. It will only take me all day and I'll have to listen to a lot of crap but man, does it feel good to no longer have the wool over my eyes."
It may sound odd but music listeners need some kind of elitism in their musical tastes. Perhaps that's why we are seeing a greater amount of energy devoted to "scenesterism." There's a greater need for something to be special in a world where any band can achieve a certain level of fame before ever playing a gig.
There's a lot more to be said, I haven't even touched on the question Jesse brings up that being where will the money come from, but I do have one observation. With radio and MTV receding in their importance it doesn't feel like any kid of great revolution is happening. Now most people seem to discover new music from TV commercials (ugh...) and unreality shows (aaarrrgh...). Christ's sake can you imagine if this was happening fifteen years ago and all the pundits would be talking about how Star Search was the most important place for new music and that Ed McMahon was the important man in the music industry. Not to mention, does anybody remember when it used to be controversial for an artist to let their music be used in commercials? People just accept the fact that to make it as a musician your work has to be appropriated by some fucking corporation to sell more crap to idiots. Wow, it's so great that the giants have been slain and we're all free to discover new ways of getting music to the folks. Hey, maybe Apple will come up with another device that no one really needs but infuses the culture with materialistic mania all the same and they'll come up with a neat-o advertising campaign for it and they'll pick thirty seconds of your song to be in the ad! Now excuse me, I have to go be disappointed by that new bland-as-fuck Feist record. Gee, where did I hear about that?
This is just another reason why I so often find myself sighing and wishing that I lived in a perpetual 1974. Permanent Link: 6:57 PM |
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Friday, December 07, 2007
A stupid thought that occured to me about an hour ago
I really dug No Country For Old Men. I suggest you read what Jeff Lester has to say about it. Hell, I wrote a little about it elsewhere. But I was just thinking...maybe one of the times Javier Bardem's character Anton Chigurh did his coin trick Tommy Lee Jones could have come out of nowhere, revealed he is not a Texas sherrif but instead Two Face late of Batman Forever and told Chigurh "don't pull that trick here. I inveneted that trick!" Wouldn't that be cool?
This is a special announcement. The second collection of Paul Stanley's stage banter, Honey, That Ain't No Pistol... is now available (get the first volume here). Hours and hours of KISS live shows have been reviewed and all of the Star Child's stage banter has been extracted to create these albums.
The Onion has praised Stanley's stage banter and mentions the first collection People Let Me Get This Off My Chest. The sample might still be up there, too (I'm having browser trouble so I can't tell you). I genuinely love KISS's music while being well aware of how ridiculous KISS is so these albums totally work for me. You can't argue with a man who gets up in front of thousands and yells "How many of you have friends who tried to tell you that you don't know what good fucking music is? You know what I say to those people? FUCK OOOOOOFFFFF!" Then there's "I LOVE GIRLS!" Seriously, that's all of track 37. Just download this right now. Permanent Link: 4:59 PM |
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Thursday, December 06, 2007
Ready Steady Go!
There was one bright part of coming back home for the holidays (which I'll do again in a few weeks, God help me). My Dad dug out his videotape, many years old, of Dave Clark's special on the British music program Ready Steady Go!. The show was basically ground zero for the Mod movement of Swinging London. Any given show gave you The Rolling Stones (above, doing a great song off of Aftermath), The Beatles, The Who, Dusty Springfield as well as American soul acts like The Supremes, Martha Reeves and Vandellas and Otis Redding.
My Dad grew up on the show and I love the music of the time. The idea that you can tune into one show and get all that great music astounds me. The show wasn't like Top of the Pops with acts performing their singles on the chart. Artists weren't afraid to stretch out a bit. Here's The Who doing some of their Maximum R&B magic with a James Brown cover. You really can't get more Mod than four British white guys, one wearing a target on his shirt, doing their imitation of American soul music.
This has to be the best thing I saw on the special. Otis Redding, backed by The Bar-Kays, does a few songs. That's an understatement. He puts on a brilliant performance like only he can that encapsulates the music of the time. He starts off with his cover of "Satisfaction." Remember, Keith Richards imagined the song going more like Redding's version, with the horns playing the hook, than what The Stones did. Then he covers "My Girl." A Stax artist doing a Motown song, perhaps the Motown song. It's amazing how he just turns it out and gives it that Memphis edge, especially at the end. The clip ends with "Respect" and we get back in the "whose version is better?" argument. Aretha Franklin made the song her own but Redding's original version still has amazing power the way he and the band just blaze through it.
The amazing thing for me is to see white artists covering soul music while you have black artists doing The Stones and The Beatles (Redding and Franklin both did superb versions of "Elanor Rigby" and the bi-racial Booker T and The MG's covered all of Abbey Road). That conversation doesn't seem to exist in pop music and probably hasn't for over thirty years now. There's a radio station in L.A. called K-EARTH that's not classic rock but "oldies." Some '70s stuff has infiltrated their playlist but when I was growing up it was The Beatles next to The Temptations next to Elvis next to Otis up there. It was the only radio station playing music, except for the Top 40 stations, that had a multi-racial mix all the time. The classic rock stations didn't have Led Zeppelin after Parliment. There'd be some Hendrix but after that it's all white artists. It's something to think about. Sasha Frere-Jones does bring it up in his much discussed (much discussed here anyway) New Yorker article, although I believe he obscures the good points he makes.
I mean, we see Kanye West sampling Daft Punk and Thom Yorke and The Hives did employ Pharell to produce some songs on their latest album. And of course, there's the wonderful Go! Team. But we also have singer-songwriters doing smarmy covers of gangsta rap, which I think is the worst of both worlds. That's right, I'm the blogger brave enough to take on Dynamite Hack and Nina Gordon.
Thanks to those who sent kind words and messages of hope responding to my last post. My thoughts of depression have transformed into frustration, which I suppose is a bit like when you here a species of rare bird has moved off of the endangered list and is now only considered "very close to endangered." The act of sending out e-mail after e-mail to faceless HR people and never hearing back from them is just a deadening experience. I try to speak to people on the phone or in person and all I hear is "send an e-mail, send an e-mail." I'd rather they be honest with me and just tell me to fuck off.
The rejection just makes me want to work harder, though. I want to write more, cover more stories and cooperate with new people. You'll certainly see more from me at Publishers Weekly Comics Week (link is to your left there). I just hate the fact that having the ability to write is so undervalued becuase I love to do it. You'd have to love it if you endeavored into the foolish act of making it a career.
This Orson Welles quote resonates with me: "I think I'm... I made essentially a mistake staying in movies, because I... but it... it's the mistake I can't regret because it's like saying 'I shouldn't have stayed married to that woman, but I did because I love her.' I would have been more successful if I'd left movies immediately. Stayed in the theater, gone into politics, written-- anything. I've wasted the greater part of my life looking for money, and trying to get along... trying to make my work from this terribly expensive paint box which is an... a movie. And I've spent too much energy on things that have nothing to do with a movie. It's about two percent movie making and 98% hustling. It's no way to spend a life." Make that 99% hustling is you're a freelancer. But that's what I'll do. That's what this is. Blogging is a hustle, it gets your name out there. Someone will see me and be impressed. They'll have to becuase I actually am pretty damn good.
The personal stuff? That's still up in the air. Unfortunately it's sometimes quite a while before I see friends again becuase I'll phone people up or e-mail them but everyone's dance card is already full. That is if I get any reply at all. I suppose I've been getting the freeze out my whole life, first from friends and then from potential employers. I worry that there's something about me that just makes people want to avoid me. Then I'll hear that a friend of couldn't get back to me becuase he/she had to deal with a family emergency or a ton of work. That's when I feel like a schmuck for thinking that world revolves around me.
To tie this back into comics it was actually two comic creators that inspired that last post. Ivan Brunetti's work that has been collected in the recent Misery Loves Company rings very true to me. It's basically the be-all end-all of neurotic autobiographical comics. Brunetti rips into all the fear and anger he has had with his life. It actually hurt for me to read it when I first discovered the work as Schizo but that's becuase I recognized so much of myself in it. I actually had the opportunity to speak to Brunetti when I interviewed him for PW about Misery. He's found that applying oneself to external factors helps deal with the pain. You'll notice that a lot of Brunetti's work now is about profiling other people. It's a way to avoid entering into that whirlpool of an obsessive mind.
The other creator who I feel a sort of kinship with, which is an odd thing to write but that's how I feel, is Steve Gerber. It's still amazing how personal and introspective he got writing for Marvel in the '70s. There's one issue of Man-Thing in particular where the story stops so this one character, tormented by demons representing all different facets of modern society, airs out his grievances in a poem. It's about working in advertising, which I know Gerber did before he wrote for comics. It's pretty obvious reading that section that Gerber is drawing on something inside himself. He has an anger towards a society based around money and immediate results. I think most creative people do because it's hard to find a place in a world like that.
That won't stop me, though. Let's gleam some inspiration from England's newest hitmakers, The Rolling Stones:
You need some money in a hurry
But things ain't right
You try to beg and borrow maybe start a fight
Your friends don't wanna know you they just pass you by
So they couldn't be your friends because they wouldn't lie
I don't have much in my life but take it, it's yours
I really don't know why I'm writing this post other than for the cathartic benefit. But I feel I should post something. Really it's a post about why I don't feel like posting, which sounds awful (and probably is). This is a post about how I don't feel like doing much of anything. It heads into some disturbing personal territory so if you're expecting some easy reading (which you should most of the time you're reading blogs) I can tell you right now this isn't it.
I remarked in last week's post (Christ, one post for the week...great way to renew a blogging career) how I was feeling depressed coming up back from Southern California. I always do. Being surrounded by sunshine and people who are easily pleased fills me with great discomfort, so you can imagine how much fun I had growing up there. But I was feeling bad before I flew into Burbank airport and having a week back in San Francisco hasn't made me feel any better. I've had this sullen feeling leading to great inactivity on my part.
I quit my day job a few weeks ago without lining up a new job, although I did save up some money before I quit. Last week I should have been doing everything to find a new job. I've done a bit of that but not nearly as much as I should have. Considering that I have all day free I should have gone after a ton of potential new employers. Instead I sent my resume out to a few parties who posted on Craigslist. I couldn't even get it together to contact a temp agency. I don't want to work. I don't want to write cover letters and never hear back from people. Up until recently I wrote songs but now I don't even want to do that. I don't want to create any kind of output. I just want to numb myself. Hours will go by where I just watch shitty TV, go to dumb websites (I was up until 1:00 a.m. last night looking for a website that featured the funniest moments from the game show Break the Bank if you can believe that). I was drinking pretty heavily but my worries over money has stopped me from buying anymore booze. Now I'm just drowning in the light of my television and laptop screens.
I can pinpoint exactly when this malaise started. I don't want to be specific becuase it's none of your business and I don't want to embarrass anyone (except myself apparently). Someone I care a lot for said something which objectively was fairly unremarkable. She hasn't done anything wrong, either in her actions or in what she said. But my reaction to some information she revealed opened up a Pandora's Box inside my mind, except I'm still waiting for the dove of Hope to show up. When I awoke the next day I didn't get out of bed but just stayed there and contemplated this dread I was feeling. I was feeling dread for my future, in both my professional and personal lives. While suffering from one of the extremely painful headaches I tend to get due to poor posture and minor scoliosis I could just see that my entire post-graduate life will only yield disappointment. It was the chronological inversion of the man on his death bed looking back at his regrets in life. I was predicting all the heartache and sadness I will feel as I grow older. I saw myself entering into relationships taken for a fear of loneliness than any genuine affection. I saw myself stewing in resentment becuase all the jobs I wanted are taken by people smarter and better than me (y'know, the people who should have them) while I tried to do the best I can with a useless degree in English Literature. I eventually got myself out of bed but ever since then I've still kept this hurt that prevents me for gaining the enthusiasm for any kind of self improvement. I feel more and more like a fraud when I interact with other people. Maybe that's why I'm posting this. It's the first time where I can feel sort of honest.
As far back as I can remember my mind has had the habit of coming up with these grotesque extrapolations that thrust me into despair. I thought it would be something that would taper off as I grew older. Instead what seems to have happened is that as the stakes have gotten higher these fantasies that I create affect me more. I call them fantasies but it's only when I'm at my most depressed that I feel the most authentic, if that makes any sense. It's to the point where I'm honestly starting to worry that this might be chemical imbalance that I'm suffering from. The more my life is in my own hands the more likely it is I will just submit to the worst impulses that this state of mind brings me. I don't want to sound alarmist or overly dramatic but when my mind goes down this path I do think about the concept of suicide. I just want so much to stop everything. I feel like my brain is a virus and I am becoming sicker and sicker every time I think of a new way to consider how miserable my life is. I just want to get rid of that virus. Not that I think I am capable of killing myself. There is a major leap from thinking about it to doing it, which I suppose is a grand understatement. But if honesty is what I'm going for here than I have to admit the that more and more the idea of immolation walks beside me as I make circles in my mind.
A good amount of words and I still have no idea if publishing this post will accomplish anything. I'm writing this on the evening of a Saturday where I did absolutely nothing worthwhile. I might as well have been a corpse for all the difference I made in the world. I shut off comments for this post becuase I don't want to appear to be fishing for easy sentiments like "cheer up, sonny." If you have anything to say to me I welcome all advice. It's obvious I need it. You can e-mail me and this conversation shall continue in privacy. I don't want to feel this way but I cannot imagine not feeling this way.
It's been two days since I drafted this post and I've come back to it a few times. Just writing this has made me feel a little better. I do worry what the reactions to this post could be. Any potential employers can read this. If you are rest assured, I can hide my actual feelings in the workplace through a strong combination of polities and productivity (which could be the case for most people in offices around the country). I'm just tired of keeping these sentiments inside. Permanent Link: 9:58 AM |
