I feel like we all owe it to ourselves to revisit great works of art from time to time, no matter how exposed we may have been to them in the past. Recently I've gone through such a journey with The Last Waltz. I'm not going to definitively argue that it was the greatest rock concert of all time, but I will certainly listen to someone who does claim as much.
Here are my personal highlights:
Ophelia
Caravan
Acadian Driftwood (no video footage!)
The W.S. Walcott Medicine Show (again, no footage)
Congratulations, Dr. Kittybrains, on your nuptials this past weekend! I hope your first dance was Jack Logan. Wait, actually that would be a really bad idea. But maybe one day the two of you can dance to Jack Logan.
Eric and I attended a wedding as well-- that of my brother. (Let's call him Erischord.) It was a great weekend! (And their first dance, by the way, was George Harrison's version of "If Not for You.")
And with Quinapalus already engaged, I look forward to the world's first honky-hop first dance! And as I've already predicted, Eric will follow close behind. Really the only question is which British rocker will have the honor of serenading his first dance.
If you're like me, you'd lost interest in her after two meh albums (World Without Tears and Little Honey) surrounding a genuine clunker (West).
But this new album is quite good actually. It's not quite on the level of Car Wheels... but it's probably up there with Sweet Old World and Essence on that next tier. Here's a track...
The fact that her new guitarist sounds like Stevie Ray Vaughan doesn't hurt either!
This song came out in 2000, and it has been stuck in my head for basically all of that time. The band is called the Rockfords, which was Mike McCready's band pre-Pearl Jam. He then revived it as a side project once Pearl Jam got famous. The singer is Carrie Akre, who was in Hammerbox. (I believe that reference might be for me only.)
Anyway, listen to this song and tell me how catchy it is. Just downloaded it today since I can't find the CD.
Preamble: Someone gave me Red House Painters' Songs for a Blue Guitar during a hard drive swap, but I haven't ever listened to it all the way through.
Anyway, I had my iTunes on shuffle while I was doing things around my apartment, and I heard this song come on that I assumed was some obscure Neil Young live jam-- acquired during a different hard drive exchange. :)
Turns out it was Red House Painters covering Paul McCartney's "Silly Love Songs." Duh!
At the end of the day, Mark Kozelek will probably be best remembered for his covers... AC/DC, Modest Mouse, and apparently also McCartney. Hearing this also reminded me of what might be my favorite cover of his. This is Red House Painters doing "I Am a Rock" by Simon & Garfunkel.
Have any of you guys ever listened to the "WTF with Marc Maron" podcast? I've been getting into them recently: most episodes are interviews with comedians, but they're especially worth listening to because of Maron's interview style. He brings a lot of himself and his own complicated psyche into the interview, and while in other hands this could be self-serving, it has a way of making his guests feel comfortable and able to reveal parts of themselves that they might not have expected to reveal.
If you haven't listened to it before, a great place to start might be his interview with Louis CK, which was recent enough that it's still available to download free on iTunes. I was also very entertained by his interviews with Gallagher and Ira Glass.
I was prompted to write this post, however, because of how unbelievable his two interviews with Carlos Mencia are (Part 1 and Part 2 here). These episodes are older and cost $2 each, but they're some of the most fascinating celebrity interviews I have ever heard. I've never been much of a Mencia fan, but the conflicted, complicated, angry human being that Maron coaxes Mencia to reveal himself as in these interviews is absolutely fascinating. Part 2 is by far the most intense and interesting (and might qualify as much as an "intervention" as an "interview"), but Part 1 is probably necessary listening as a set up.
I've been taking a brief break from listening to golden age hip hop to listen to middle period REM. I've probably written about this before here, but I have a kind of funny relationship with REM. They were the first contemporary band I got into (before that it was all Beatles and Broadway) back in the Out of Time / Automatic for the People days. I remember being shocked that the "Losing My Religion" band had released SIX albums before that one. Anyway, then in college, when I got more into "indie" rock, I gravitated back to the early IRS albums. And I'd still say that their best album is Murmur. But listening to those peak-era Warner Brothers albums brings back more vivid memories of my youth, which is always nice. I was inspired to pull this stuff out in part by this: http://www.nerve.com/entertainment/ranked/ranked-rem-albums-from-worst-to-best
I was particularly struck by the high ranking of Monster, which is probably their most maligned album (and is probably the number 1 Used CD of all time). I had always thought it was seriously sub-par, especially because it was a total 180 from Automatic, which was my favorite album at the time. But listening to it now, totally out of context, it's actually fantastic! Every song is interesting and good, and the ones that, at the time, seemed like pale rewrites of their hits totally stand on their own. (Check Strange Currencies, which I always thought of as an Everybody Hurts rip, but is actually the much better song).
The other separately interesting thing is that a new REM album came out yesterday. I heard a bit of the stream from NPR and it seems reasonably solid, though not terribly exciting. But what I'm most excited about is that the REM Record Review Pattern seems to be holding strong.
The pattern is, basically, that every REM that comes out is an improvement upon the last album, which was, for one reason or another, problematic. Thus, the new album becomes their best album since [an older album, usually from the Bill Berry era]. I would have thought that, since Accelerate was such a self-conscious throwback/comeback album, and it got such good reviews, that the pattern would break. It actually seems like the pattern did break, though, Pitchfork, of all things, sticks with the script:
After releasing the plodding Around the Sun, the band attempted a "return to rock" with 2008's Accelerate, barreling through a forceful but generic set and grasping at a raw, aggressive sound that was never really R.E.M.'s to begin with. So, it comes as something of a relief that Collapse Into Now sounds unmistakably like an R.E.M. album. At its best, Collapse Into Now evokes R.E.M.'s best work while capitalizing on the energy conjured during Accelerate.
To Rolling Stone's credit, they seem to have finally broken the streak:
Collapse Into Now is the first truly messy album R.E.M. have made in 10 years, since their underrated 2001 gem, Reveal. Their recent albums have focused on one musical approach at a time: 2004's Around the Sun was all slow-motion torpor, and 2008's excellent Accelerate went for spiky rockers. But Collapse Into Now touches on all their favorite tricks: punk raves, stately ballads, piano, accordion and the most mandolin they've put in one place since "Losing My Religion."
Perhaps more than anything else I’ve written in my four and a half years with The A.V. Club, “R.E.M.’s Incredible Shrinking Legacy” left an indelible impression on readers. And by “indelible,” I mean “negative.” Very negative. Countless pieces with my byline have come and gone, but this particular essay has followed me around like an especially unseemly sex scandal. From time to time, whenever commenters wanted to cite an example of my writing that proved incontrovertibly that I was a buffoon, “R.E.M.’s Incredible Shrinking Legacy” was what they pointed to.
It's a pretty good read, and it grapples with the strange place REM occupies in the rock canon. For a long time they were sort of parallel to U2 as huge, mega-selling bands that had their roots in the postpunk/college rock scene in the early 80s. But whereas U2 keep making hits, REM have sort of returned to just having a cult audience (albeit a very, very large one). It's hard to imagine them having the kind of profile that U2 still have. (Though U2 are doing their best to tarnish it with the Spiderman musical).
This has got to be the most negative interview I've ever read from an artist about his own album, especially considering that said album was still a month away from being released at the time this article was written. An excerpt:
"There’s nothing really to tell about that record, to be honest. I didn’t have nothing to do with that record. That was the label’s record. That wasn’t like I knew the producer or knew the writer or anything like that. That was one of those records the record company gave me, [they even gave me] stuff they wanted me to rap about. It wasn’t like, ‘Hey I did this and I went to a mountain and found inspiration and it was this.’ [Last April] I was backstage at a show at the House of Blues in L.A. and the president of [Atlantic Records] came to me and said, ‘Hey check this out, I got this song.’ He played ‘Show Goes On’ for me on the iPod. I was used to it because they presented me like ten other songs in the same fashion or via email. So for me, at that point, it was just another record like, ‘Is this a song you want me to do?’ There was nothing special about it for me at that point. It was like, ‘You know we still want off the label, right?’ That was the conversations we were having."
I guess I'll probably still hear it, because at his best I love this guy...but this does not sound promising at all.
... you should. Now it isn't exactly "new" anymore; it came out almost 6 months ago. But I think it might be the most satisfying album I've heard from last year. In fairness, I thought last year by and large sucked for new albums. (Which is one reason why I still haven't written up a Top 10 list.)
That aside, everyone should still check it out. I think it's Superchunk's best ever. Great melodies, great production and Mascis-like lead guitar. What's not to like?
A day early! Anyone got it yet? Honestly, I'm torn. I know I'm going to want to buy the CD later and I don't want to pay twice. But I also want to hear it... legally if possible. Streaming site?
I was just looking through some old files I'd downloaded, and I came across this screenshot from Pitchfork that I'd meant to share with you guys. It's an American Express ad starring John Legend. (Click on the image for a better view.)
I don't have much to say other than one of the following things is off base with the others: Pitchfork's current identity, advertisers' concept of Pitchfork's identity, or my concept of Pitchfork's identity (or at least what it should be.)
Looks like I'm going to have to pay cash money for a digital album for what may be the first time ever! (I don't count emusic, because that was more of a subscription fee, and I quit long before they started listing album prices in dollars).
Clear 10" vinyl sounds cool but I don't think I need to spend fifty bucks on one album. Either way, this is pretty fucking badass and exciting. The cool thing about In Rainbows for me, more than the Met Museum style "suggested donation" thing, was the fact that they controlled when their music got out so that everyone could hear it at the same time. I really miss that experience. (I realize that makes me a dinosaur, but at this point I'm embracing it. After all, I still purchase CDs.) I was traveling in Peru when it came out, so I couldn't hear it for a few days, but this Dutch guy who I was on a hiking trip with had left after it came out, so he had it on his iPod and I listened to it on the van while we drove around the rim of the Colca Canyon. That was a good day.
I'm still working on my epic post about the RZA's production style and the brilliance of Inspectah Deck's wordplay on Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers), but in the meantime, a couple of quick comments about the Grammys and the shocking (!) upset by the Arcade Fire, Texplush's most hated of bands.
I actually watched the whole show last night for the first time in years. The Grammys are kind of hilarious. They go out of their way to make themselves as irrelevant as possible, starting with the idiosyncratic eligibility period of September - September. So you get Grammys in 2011 for Lady Gaga's album from 2009.
Then there's the fact that the nominations/winners have very little correllation to either critical acclaim (ie, music publications' year-end best-of lists, etc) or sales/popularity. No knock against Steely Dan, but Two Against Nature was far from the best album from 2000-1, but neither was it the best selling. So then what was it? I'm not saying it was bad, but what does it mean to have an "Album of the Year" that's neither critically acclaimed nor popular.
Anyway, Arcade Fire's win is a rare nod to the critical community-- it might not have been the critical consensus favorite of the year (Kanye will have to wait until next year's awards, because his album came out in November), but it definitely appeared on all of the usual lists. I liked how genuinely surprised they were-- they even *gasp* smiled!
And the thing is, despite Arcade Fire selling out MSG, having a number 1 album (which at this point, seems like one of the less impressive achievements out there), and now Album of the Year, most people still don't know who they are!:
Well, I guess I'll just keep posting even if nobody else is.
I've been listening to a lot of Bach recently...for whatever reason, he's a composer that I've never delved into very deeply before. I think when I was younger I was turned off by how orderly (and thus conservative) he sounded, but listening to him now it's exactly the order and precision that I'm especially astounded by. There's something almost contemporary in the deliberateness of his structure, something which fell out of fashion with some of the great European composers who followed him. There's no mistaking a Bach composition for the lyricism of Mozart or the mysticism of Beethoven; the structure is always right out in front in Bach, like he's communing with the laws of mathematics.
Plus, sometimes he gets astonishingly weird. Check out the below clip, especially the harpsichord breakdown that starts around the 50 second mark. If I didn't know it was Bach, I might have thought Phillip Glass or Frank Zappa wrote it in the 1970s:
In some ways it gets even weirder in the following movement.
Also, just to point it out, these particular clips come from his concerto for four fucking harpsichords. Maybe that was more common than I realize, but on the surface I have to say it sounds kind of insane. It sounds like a Trey Anastasio side project or something: "Dude, on Trey's latest album, he's ditching that guy who only plays the washboard, and is bringing on four harpsichord players! I hope they do 'The Squirming Coil!'"
One of my favorite bloggers has some really intelligent analysis of the new Kanye West album. He cuts to some of the problems I also have with the album, but phrases them in a way I never could. For example: "I'm tired of rappers who deploy slut-shame to smoke-screen their near total fear of pussy."
This guy writes all kinds of great stuff on all kinds of topics, so while I'm at it, here's another recent post of his I loved about the nexus of comic books, hip hop, and Faulkner.
Once again, I'm pretty sure I got through the whole year without listening to 10 total new releases, so doing a Top 10 list seemed a bit absurd. Here are a handful of shorter lists that hopefully you will find interesting:
Top 3 New Albums I actually listened to this year: 3. The Roots, How I Got Over Another great album from a great band. I even loved the bonus track "Hustla" with the weird baby-crying sample. 2. Big Boi, Sir Lucious Left Foot I hope he and Andre 3000 do more work together in the future, but if Big Boi's solo output remains this good, there will be nothing to complain about if they don't. 1. Kanye West, My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy I'm going to have to go with the critical consensus on this one. I've just been obsessed with this album, and there's no denying that it was my personal favorite of the year, despite its flaws, and despite my reservations about it. In fact, with the possible exception of some albums by The Roots or Lupe Fiasco, I might have to go back to The College Dropout to find a new record I played this incessantly. I'm glad Kanye has been able to harness his batshit craziness to create something so compelling!
Top 3 Joni Mitchell albums besidesBlue: I've been listening to tons of Joni Mitchell this year, much more than I've been listening to new music. I started with Blue, which unsurprisingly is an incredible album. What I didn't realize, however, was just how much first-rate material she created in the 1970s. There are a number of absolutely classic albums that I had never even heard of before. Below are three albums which, in my opinion, are as much worth listening to as Blue, even if they are all less immediately accessible, and may require more time and attention to appreciate. 3. The Hissing of Summer Lawns Weird, unsettling, and wonderful. This album is strange enough that it probably shouldn't be anybody's first encounter with Joni Mitchell, but there is some seriously great material here to explore.
2. Hejira This album is a huge grower. For months of listening to it, most of the album seemed like sort of an easy-listening blur (even if a couple of the songs, such as "Amelia" and "Refuge of the Roads" were undeniably great from the first listen), and I couldn't understand why so many Joni Mitchell superfans on the internet claimed that this was her best album. But slowly, the extremely wordy complexity of Hejira began to open up for me, and I discovered it to be full of some of the best songs about how traveling affects the soul this side of Townes Van Zandt.
1. Court and Spark If you haven't heard this album, you should give it a shot. It's the most accessible of her classic albums besides Blue, and it really has it all: sad folk songs, weird jazz experiments, a rare dash of unexpected humor, and even a couple of songs where for once Joni Mitchell just rocks out. I was hooked from the moment I heard about the character who "buried the coins he'd made in People's Park/and went looking for a woman to court and spark."
Top 3 Literary Giants Whom I Somehow Never Got Around to Reading Until This Year: 3. Thomas Pynchon I really enjoyed The Crying of Lot 49, and I've been surprised how much this extremely short and strange little book has stuck with me since reading it. I'll even go so far as to say that it's made me think about the concept of a "mystery" in a new way, and has informed some of my teaching on the subject. Despite his reputation as being an impenetrable writer, this book is a fun, fairly quick read, that any of you might enjoy. 2. Franz Kafka I started out by reading some of his short stories, and very quickly couldn't believe it had taken me so long to get around to him. Reading "Metamorphosis" reminded me of the sense of wonder and dread I used to feel as a kid when reading Stephen King...except that Kafka is almost certainly more terrifying. I also wondered if the strange torture machine from "In the Penal Colony" might have been J.K. Rowling's inspiration for the magic quill that carves "I must not tell lies" into Harry Potter's arm. Actually, much of Kafka's writing on the surface is so simple that it could almost pass for a pulp thriller or horror story; the further you go, however, all the details start to pile up into something far more obscure and disturbing than you first expect. 1. Marcel Proust I'm currently reading volume 2 of Proust's 7 volume mega-novel A La Recherche Du Temp Perdu, and I am very excited that so much of it still lies ahead of me. Proust reminds me of James Joyce, at least in one sense: both writers have a way of looking at the world partly through the prism of art and literature, and try to make sense of life by finding surprising parallels between great art that they admire, and their own mundane, bourgeois, sometimes sordid lives. In other words: it's right up my alley. Proust is also dense in the best possible way. Every page is so packed with evocative descriptions, philosophical asides, and unexpected doses of comedy, (not to mention the surprisingly frank--and weird--discussions of sexuality), that you need to read it extremely slowly in order to take it all in (which is fortunate, since I'm attempting to read it in French, and slooooooooow is the only way I can go). A La Recherche Du Temps Perdu has even served as a sort of crash course in art history for me, as Proust assumes of his readers a certain level of familiarity with European painting, and often chooses to shed light on characters, or create interesting juxtapositions, by making extremely specific references to particular paintings. For someone like myself, who has only a passing familiarity with that material, regular internet searches to track down the relevant paintings become a must in order to fully understand the narrative. That may sound like kind of a chore, but honestly, I've found it to be kind of like an awesome treasure hunt. Not only does knowing each painting help me to more fully enjoy the book, but the book is actually helping me to appreciate European painting in a way I never have before. It's hard to ask for more!
Best Book I (Re)Read This Year: Voltaire's Candide may be my favorite book. It's so short that I've actually read it once a year for the past several years, and it never seems to get old no matter how often I come back to it. I think what separates Candide from other snarky, remorseless take-downs of human vanity (such as may be found in the work of Jonathan Swift, Kurt Vonnegut, or sometimes Mark Twain, all of whom I also enjoy) is that there's something strangely life affirming and even uplifting about Candide. At the end of the book, after going on countless adventures in search of love, wealth, and philosophical glory, the main characters all decide that the only thing that will really make life bearable is to settle down and work hard at jobs that they enjoy. "We must cultivate our garden" is how the novel ends, and it's a phrase I often remember when the world seems unbearably depressing. In the end, life is never going to be easy, and sometimes it's going to be awful, so you might as well try to find something that makes you happy. There's no point in worrying about the rest.