Oh, yes. It's time for Tuesday's Mountain Goats list. I know you've all (ha!) been anxiously awaiting this since last week, and here we go. God, this was hard. I had some pretty serious culling to do. These songs are just the ten that I couldn't even fathom taking off the list. There are so many more that should be on here for so many reasons, but these ten are the top ten Mountain Goats songs that I just haven't been able to stop listening to since I first got into the band. I go through so many specific-song phases where I just listen to one over and over, but these are the ten that stick around and I keep coming back to.
Well, okay, nine. The last one is just epic.
They're numbered in, um...what do they call it in High Fidelity? Autobiographical order, I think? Not necessarily the order in which I first got the albums or even listened to the songs, but the order in which I became completely obsessed with each particular song, one by one.
1. No Children (Tallahassee)
Okay, so maybe this is one of their more "mainstream" songs or whatever. It's the first Mountain Goats song I ever heard - on a mix CD from a friend in ninth grade - and I feel like I owe a pretty big part of my musical tastes and interests to it. The question haunts me every day: What if I had never heard the Mountain Goats? This is the perfect introductory Mountain Goats song. Crisp and clear, upbeat tempo, and cripplingly depressing lyrics. When I saw the Mountain Goats at the Pitchfork Festival in Chicago a few years ago, they played this on the outdoor stage in the middle of the sweltering July afternoon. Johnny D introduced it as a sing-a-long. And somehow, at that moment, being in the midst of hundreds of people all screaming in unison, "I hope you die! I hope we all die!"* was the best feeling imaginable.
*The crowd switched up the lyrics a bit to fit the situation better.
2. Going to Georgia (Zopilote Machine)
I don't even want to say anything about this one; just go fucking listen to it. "The most remarkable thing about you standing in the doorway is that it's you, and you're standing in the doorway." It's being in love. That's all this song is. It's dusk, and doorways, and being in love. With a little bit of apprehension (and, okay, a gun) thrown in - but really, what's love without that?
3. Cotton (We Shall All Be Healed)
Honestly, I just think this one is pretty. The lyrics are great, obviously, but not anywhere near some of Darnielle's best; same goes for the music itself. But it's simple, and sweet, and reassuring. The guitar strums always give me a slightly gooey feeling inside.
4. Jenny (All Hail West Texas)
The thing with most Mountain Goats songs is that once you know them fairly well, they're pretty much all great to sing along with. "Goddamn, the pirate's life for me!" This song feels like fantasy to me, a dream song. The eager guitar strumming breaks through the vocals from time to time. Darnielle is excited, he's enthralled, he's engaged as he sings. He's letting himself get just a little carried away - but not too much. This, like so many other Mountain Goats songs, is all imagination.
5. Collapsing Stars (Come, Come to the Sunset Tree)
This is the version from the demos album released while tMG were touring to support The Sunset Tree, but this song was also released on the Dilaudid EP. That version is also really interesting and definitely worth listening to - it's almost orchestrated, with violins and pianos filling out the structure of the song - but the original demo hits closer to home for me. The bareness of the single guitar complements the eerie honesty of the lyrics. This album is about (along with many other things) being a teenager, and this song perfectly captures the feelings of determination and gritted teeth that I think has a lot to do with being that age, and being invincible. I almost believe him when he sings, "You can look, but you won't find another love like ours." I want this kid to win. I want it all to work out for him. But you can't help but get the feeling from this song that it just never does.
6. Orange Ball of Hate (Zopilote Machine)
All of the songs in the 'Orange Ball' series are wonderful, but this song always stands out to me. I have the same image of the doorway from "Going to Georgia" in my head, but a little later in the year, a little earlier in the day, and with a lot more smirking. This song destroys the fantasy we see in "Jenny". We learn about hopelessness in the face of love; we see everything that's wrong with him, with her, with their relationship, but all we hear is "I sure do love you". The "rocks in her head", the not wanting "to live in new england anymore", that "stupid children's song" she's singing - it's all worth it. This is what it's really about, these dumb little things, and how they're overcome by love.
7. Fault Lines (All Hail West Texas)
It's really difficult to write these little blurbs sometimes because all you really have to do it just listen to the lyrics, because that's what so many of these songs are really about. Like in "No Children", the contrast between the fairly upbeat melody and the absolute desperation contained within the lyrics is striking, and makes it just that much more profound as the song spirals downward and abruptly ends with just a simple "La la la la, hey hey!"
8. Southwood Plantation Road (Tallahassee)
I only started listening to this song a lot after the aforementioned show in Chicago, where they played this and had a dance contest to see who could pogo the longest. This song grabs you. It's trying to keep a hold on something; you can feel Darnielle's vocals trying to grasp something in the air. The instruments power forward, reaching and stretching to fill up any empty space there might be. And, of course, the first three lines of this song are some of my favorite lyrics ever. I grimace every time I hear "Our conversations are like minefields; no one's found a safe way through one yet". Everybody has someone like that. It never gets any easier.
9. Color In Your Cheeks (All Hail West Texas)
I've been sitting here thinking for a few minutes now, and I don't think I can explain why this is one of my favorite Mountain Goats songs. The lyrics are pretty, sweet, harmless, calming - but, admittedly, Darnielle's done better. The guitar is all of the above, just steadily and simply marching forward to progress the song. But something about this song just gives me a good feeling when I sing along. It gets stuck in my head, and I just smile.
10. The Sign
In case anyone ever had any doubts - John Darnielle is fucking adorable.
See you next week, fools. Love you all.
xoxo,
Tuesday
(who is pretty pissed, while we're on the subject, that there wasn't a new episode of Gossip Girl this week...)
11.24.2008
Copyright Dorthy Grambrell 2008
Hey y'all, so I have three papers to write so I'm just going to leave you today with a Cat and Girl comic from a few weeks ago (please tell me that you read this comic. If not, GO HERE RIGHT NOW OR PERISH: www.catandgirl.com. Everybody else already did three years ago.)
Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love ya, tomorrow,
--Mondae
11.21.2008
Childhood?
There have been many questions that have proved unceasingly irksome and labyrinthine for me recently, but one has remained especially pungent in my mind: Have kids' television shows/channels (especially Nickelodeon) gotten that much worse in the past few years, or have we just gotten older? Instead of trying to argue that shows like iCarly, True Jackson, VP, and The Naked Brothers Band would not have appealed to me circa 1996 (or thereabout), I am just going to play the role of Thursday Guy the Raconteur, and remind you of what great programs were at our viewing disposal in the days of decrusted PB & Js and recess.
Now, I'm still just a pup in the grand scheme of things, and, to assure that everybody is on the same page, I'm going to chronologically name the shows that defined my childhood:
Hey Dude and I were born in the same year, 1989. Sadly, it died when I was two years old, in 1991, and, because of this, I didn't experience Hey Dude in all it's novel glory until it came back, rerun style, in the mid-nineties. The synopsis goes a little something like this:
Mr. Ernst, formerly of New York City, decides that the fast and hectic lifestyle isn't for him, and moves out to Arizona with his son, Buddy, on a whim, and founds "Bar None Dude Ranch". Buddy isn't too into arid Tucson, obviously, because he can't skateboard on the ranch. Five interns, all from completely different ethnic and socioeconomic groups (Nickelodeon was big into being as blatantly PC as possible during this time. I mean, there was a snazzy dresser from Gross Pointe, MI, and an oddball Native American both, for whatever reason, working on a newly founded ranch in AZ), come to work for the well-intentioned but pretty incompetent Mr. Ernst and teenage-geared hilarity ensues!
Rugrats. What can I say about it? Evaluating it would be like reconsidering my upbringing; cogitating why I am like I am. Originally aired in 1991, Rugrats technically ran until 2004, when they were "All Growed Up" and sucked.
I kind of wish Rugrats died out in, let's say, 1994; thereby allowing it to gain that Arrested Development or Freaks and Geeks aura and that Jimi Hendrix/Clifford Brown/Sylvia Plath "what if?" mysticism. Hendrix in that it was, by far, the best at what it did; Brown because it would have been so short lived and would have had infinite potential; Plath because even the worse episodes (some of her poetry) would still have been extolled and glorified, even if they didn't deserve the praise. I guess doing that, though, would be equivalent to my being born without my right arm or left leg: I would go through life knowing that I was missing something integral, but would compensate, atone, and adjust, and continue living incompletely.
The idea, for you ignoramuses, or Brendan Fraser bomb shelter kids, was that four friends, Tommy Pickles, Chuckie Finster, and Phil and Lil DeVille, go adventuring, and, unbeknownst to their parents, communicate in adorable malapropisms via some sort of baby speak. Their endeavors usually take place at Tommy's house, and often are antagonized by Tommy's elder cousin Angelica, who is bilingual in English and Toddler. The beginnings always started off with ultra-extreme close-ups of some everyday object and I always tried my hardest to guess what it was before it came completely into focus. Dealing with issues like the struggles of being a lefty and pre-k crushes, Rugrats was perfect.
Doug was the Rugrats for those closing in on the double-digit age mark, and originally ran from 1991-1994. It was an eponymous masterpiece whose reputation was tarnished by the fact that it made a horrendous comeback on One Saturday Morning (and it had so much potential to evoke that aforementioned aura!) near the turn of the millennium.
Douglas Yancey Funnie: average in every way. His turtle-green v-neck sweater vest, baggy white undershirt, cargo shorts, ankle-high socks, and red and white sneakers screamed mediocrity louder than an Adelina Patti aria. He was never quite able to pull in the reins on Patty Mayonnaise (Nickelodeon and Political Correctness? Patty's dad was in a wheelchair), got picked on by Roger Klotz (man was he m-e-a-n!), had a partially anthropomorphic dog Porkchop, and had his one (allegorically Afro-American?) best friend Skeeter Valentine. It seems like a pretty typical teen movie setup, yes, but it had the animation and problem simplification to gear it toward, and make it appeal to, a prepubescent crowd. Doug could never break through the proverbial (social) glass ceiling, but we loved to see the futile attempts of his rubber hammer to do so.
All That, and I'm not talking that Amanda Bynes led shit. I'm talking about Lori Beth Denberg, Josh Server, Kel Mitchell, Danny Tamberelli, and Kenan Thompson. I'm talking about awesome preteen sketch comedy that I watched my two sisters on SNICK (which was subsequently and shittily replaced by TEENick) when my parents were out to dinner on Saturday nights. Remember Good Burger? It was made into a movie (take that, SNL). What about Dullmont Jr. High, where eccentric teaches did zany things and spoke in non sequiturs, and sometimes not in English at all (beat you to it, The Faculty). Coach Kreeton, with Kel Mitchell at his finest, acting as an elderly Phys. Ed. teacher who is always accidentally inflicting pain on himself (sorry, Seann William Scott). The Spice Boys (pf, you wish, 2Gether).
Okay, not to beat you over the head with it, but the seminal All That was, potentially, a pretty influential show.
I don't know, I could just be searching for gold in a coal mine, for meaning or coincidence in nothing, but I want to reminisce with ideas of grander implications; I want to think that the endless hours I spent sprawled across my brown leather couch were not completely spent in vain; that these shows weren't the Zoey 101s or the Drake & Joshes. I want to think that these shows mattered, that they left a footprint, that they did something.
-Thursday
Now, I'm still just a pup in the grand scheme of things, and, to assure that everybody is on the same page, I'm going to chronologically name the shows that defined my childhood:
Hey Dude and I were born in the same year, 1989. Sadly, it died when I was two years old, in 1991, and, because of this, I didn't experience Hey Dude in all it's novel glory until it came back, rerun style, in the mid-nineties. The synopsis goes a little something like this:
Mr. Ernst, formerly of New York City, decides that the fast and hectic lifestyle isn't for him, and moves out to Arizona with his son, Buddy, on a whim, and founds "Bar None Dude Ranch". Buddy isn't too into arid Tucson, obviously, because he can't skateboard on the ranch. Five interns, all from completely different ethnic and socioeconomic groups (Nickelodeon was big into being as blatantly PC as possible during this time. I mean, there was a snazzy dresser from Gross Pointe, MI, and an oddball Native American both, for whatever reason, working on a newly founded ranch in AZ), come to work for the well-intentioned but pretty incompetent Mr. Ernst and teenage-geared hilarity ensues!
Rugrats. What can I say about it? Evaluating it would be like reconsidering my upbringing; cogitating why I am like I am. Originally aired in 1991, Rugrats technically ran until 2004, when they were "All Growed Up" and sucked.
I kind of wish Rugrats died out in, let's say, 1994; thereby allowing it to gain that Arrested Development or Freaks and Geeks aura and that Jimi Hendrix/Clifford Brown/Sylvia Plath "what if?" mysticism. Hendrix in that it was, by far, the best at what it did; Brown because it would have been so short lived and would have had infinite potential; Plath because even the worse episodes (some of her poetry) would still have been extolled and glorified, even if they didn't deserve the praise. I guess doing that, though, would be equivalent to my being born without my right arm or left leg: I would go through life knowing that I was missing something integral, but would compensate, atone, and adjust, and continue living incompletely.
The idea, for you ignoramuses, or Brendan Fraser bomb shelter kids, was that four friends, Tommy Pickles, Chuckie Finster, and Phil and Lil DeVille, go adventuring, and, unbeknownst to their parents, communicate in adorable malapropisms via some sort of baby speak. Their endeavors usually take place at Tommy's house, and often are antagonized by Tommy's elder cousin Angelica, who is bilingual in English and Toddler. The beginnings always started off with ultra-extreme close-ups of some everyday object and I always tried my hardest to guess what it was before it came completely into focus. Dealing with issues like the struggles of being a lefty and pre-k crushes, Rugrats was perfect.
Doug was the Rugrats for those closing in on the double-digit age mark, and originally ran from 1991-1994. It was an eponymous masterpiece whose reputation was tarnished by the fact that it made a horrendous comeback on One Saturday Morning (and it had so much potential to evoke that aforementioned aura!) near the turn of the millennium.
Douglas Yancey Funnie: average in every way. His turtle-green v-neck sweater vest, baggy white undershirt, cargo shorts, ankle-high socks, and red and white sneakers screamed mediocrity louder than an Adelina Patti aria. He was never quite able to pull in the reins on Patty Mayonnaise (Nickelodeon and Political Correctness? Patty's dad was in a wheelchair), got picked on by Roger Klotz (man was he m-e-a-n!), had a partially anthropomorphic dog Porkchop, and had his one (allegorically Afro-American?) best friend Skeeter Valentine. It seems like a pretty typical teen movie setup, yes, but it had the animation and problem simplification to gear it toward, and make it appeal to, a prepubescent crowd. Doug could never break through the proverbial (social) glass ceiling, but we loved to see the futile attempts of his rubber hammer to do so.
All That, and I'm not talking that Amanda Bynes led shit. I'm talking about Lori Beth Denberg, Josh Server, Kel Mitchell, Danny Tamberelli, and Kenan Thompson. I'm talking about awesome preteen sketch comedy that I watched my two sisters on SNICK (which was subsequently and shittily replaced by TEENick) when my parents were out to dinner on Saturday nights. Remember Good Burger? It was made into a movie (take that, SNL). What about Dullmont Jr. High, where eccentric teaches did zany things and spoke in non sequiturs, and sometimes not in English at all (beat you to it, The Faculty). Coach Kreeton, with Kel Mitchell at his finest, acting as an elderly Phys. Ed. teacher who is always accidentally inflicting pain on himself (sorry, Seann William Scott). The Spice Boys (pf, you wish, 2Gether).
Okay, not to beat you over the head with it, but the seminal All That was, potentially, a pretty influential show.
I don't know, I could just be searching for gold in a coal mine, for meaning or coincidence in nothing, but I want to reminisce with ideas of grander implications; I want to think that the endless hours I spent sprawled across my brown leather couch were not completely spent in vain; that these shows weren't the Zoey 101s or the Drake & Joshes. I want to think that these shows mattered, that they left a footprint, that they did something.
-Thursday
Seven Songs I'm into at the Moment.
Hey guys, so I obviously fucked up yesterday, my apologies. And I wish that I could say that I'm going to have a really thought out, in depth post, but I'm really, really tired. So you're going to get a list of seven songs I'm loving a lot right now. It's a really mixed bag, not in terms of quality, but genre.
The Flatlanders -- Tonight I'm Gonna Go Downtown
Featuring Smokey from The Big Lebowski, proto-alt-country (two modifiers ftw!) group The Flatlanders had little success initially, but after all three became prominent solo musicians, interest in their original band was rekindled. For all intents and purposes, their debut album More A Legend Than a Band was released in 1991 (their real debut was released only on a small run of 8-tracks after their single was a failure), and it is pure gold. This song features a dobro solo that makes me melt, gorgeous country vocals and a singing saw that gives it an otherworldly shimmer.
Ernest Tubb -- Thanks a Lot
Youtube
More Country. You can thank my roommate for both of these. I just heard this song for the first time an hour ago, but jesus christ, it's a gem. Straight up gold from the "Texas Troubadour" this song is remarkably simple (although it features incredible pedal steel and guitar interplay by Tubb's astounding backing band), but it's one that sticks with you for quite a bit. I have to confess, though, that I'm really a sucker for this old country shit. Makes me wanna pull up stakes and wander through the American Heartland, searching for meaning, finding real americans and educating them about the importance of gender neutral pronouns and the immorality of cheese.
Lynguistics -- Cunninlynguists
When I saw Cunninlynguists a month or two ago, it was absurdly under-attended, but this song got everyone in the half full house slamming their head and trying to learn the lyrics to this jam from the southern powerhouse's debut, Will Rap For Food. Kno Flips a Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto into one of my favorite beats ever, and Deacon rip the track apart with perfectly cadenced and entertaining battle raps about their greatness. Which is really his job, I could care less about what he's actually saying when Kno is behind the boards.
Venus -- Television
Really not a ton to say about this that hasn't been said a million times by people a lot smarter than me. I just recently got into Television's debut Marquee Moon, and it's full of great tracks, this one being my current favorite. I don't know if it's the perfectly interlaced guitar work or the call and response chorus, but this song can not be beat for me right now. That's really all I got. If you haven't heard this album, cop it immediately.
Gettin' Up -- Q-Tip
A Tribe Called Quest is my favorite rap group of all time, and responsible for two albums that would fit into my top 20 any day of the week, so it's no surprise that I can't get enough of the single from Q-Tip's latest, The Renaissance. It's exactly what people should be expecting from Q-Tip at this point, a deliciously jazzy beat, deceptively complex and extremely well constructed, with Tip's patented butter voice dripping all over everything. He's the boss, and that's all there is to it.
Dinosaur on the Ark -- Esau Mwamwaya & Radioclit
This song is shamelessly and patently ridiculous. The lyrics are absurd, and the production is hyperbolic and insane. But it keeps reminding me of what Xgau said about Paul Simon's debut solo album "I've been saying nasty things about Simon since 1967, but this is the only thing to make make me positively happy in the first two weeks of February 1972". This song for me is joy incarnate, even despite it's melancholy lyrics, it's the most uplifting thing I've heard maybe all year. The project between Esau and Radioclit takes existing songs and makes them into jams for Esau to vocally shred all over, and it's called The Very Best. It's definitely worth checking out when you get some time to feel really, really good about yourself.
Van Dyke Parks -- All Golden
Van Dyke Parks is a fucking genius. Before Joanna and Ys, and before his cameo on Twin Peaks (Leo Johnson's lawyer, for those buffs out there), he was a Brian Wilson collaborator and commercially unsuccessful solo artist. Which is a shame, because his debut (incidentally one of the most expensive albums ever made), is an absolutely stunning accomplishment. Seamlessly mixing together every part of americana he can get his hands on, Parks creates a sound world of uncompromising vision. But it's still pop music, don't worry, he stuffs this album more full of hooks than I will be next weeks, when I apparently have two thanksgivings in two days (ah, the upsides of divorced parents).
Until next time, when hopefully I'll be on time.
---Dave
The Flatlanders -- Tonight I'm Gonna Go Downtown
Featuring Smokey from The Big Lebowski, proto-alt-country (two modifiers ftw!) group The Flatlanders had little success initially, but after all three became prominent solo musicians, interest in their original band was rekindled. For all intents and purposes, their debut album More A Legend Than a Band was released in 1991 (their real debut was released only on a small run of 8-tracks after their single was a failure), and it is pure gold. This song features a dobro solo that makes me melt, gorgeous country vocals and a singing saw that gives it an otherworldly shimmer.
Ernest Tubb -- Thanks a Lot
Youtube
More Country. You can thank my roommate for both of these. I just heard this song for the first time an hour ago, but jesus christ, it's a gem. Straight up gold from the "Texas Troubadour" this song is remarkably simple (although it features incredible pedal steel and guitar interplay by Tubb's astounding backing band), but it's one that sticks with you for quite a bit. I have to confess, though, that I'm really a sucker for this old country shit. Makes me wanna pull up stakes and wander through the American Heartland, searching for meaning, finding real americans and educating them about the importance of gender neutral pronouns and the immorality of cheese.
Lynguistics -- Cunninlynguists
When I saw Cunninlynguists a month or two ago, it was absurdly under-attended, but this song got everyone in the half full house slamming their head and trying to learn the lyrics to this jam from the southern powerhouse's debut, Will Rap For Food. Kno Flips a Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto into one of my favorite beats ever, and Deacon rip the track apart with perfectly cadenced and entertaining battle raps about their greatness. Which is really his job, I could care less about what he's actually saying when Kno is behind the boards.
Venus -- Television
Really not a ton to say about this that hasn't been said a million times by people a lot smarter than me. I just recently got into Television's debut Marquee Moon, and it's full of great tracks, this one being my current favorite. I don't know if it's the perfectly interlaced guitar work or the call and response chorus, but this song can not be beat for me right now. That's really all I got. If you haven't heard this album, cop it immediately.
Gettin' Up -- Q-Tip
A Tribe Called Quest is my favorite rap group of all time, and responsible for two albums that would fit into my top 20 any day of the week, so it's no surprise that I can't get enough of the single from Q-Tip's latest, The Renaissance. It's exactly what people should be expecting from Q-Tip at this point, a deliciously jazzy beat, deceptively complex and extremely well constructed, with Tip's patented butter voice dripping all over everything. He's the boss, and that's all there is to it.
Dinosaur on the Ark -- Esau Mwamwaya & Radioclit
This song is shamelessly and patently ridiculous. The lyrics are absurd, and the production is hyperbolic and insane. But it keeps reminding me of what Xgau said about Paul Simon's debut solo album "I've been saying nasty things about Simon since 1967, but this is the only thing to make make me positively happy in the first two weeks of February 1972". This song for me is joy incarnate, even despite it's melancholy lyrics, it's the most uplifting thing I've heard maybe all year. The project between Esau and Radioclit takes existing songs and makes them into jams for Esau to vocally shred all over, and it's called The Very Best. It's definitely worth checking out when you get some time to feel really, really good about yourself.
Van Dyke Parks -- All Golden
Van Dyke Parks is a fucking genius. Before Joanna and Ys, and before his cameo on Twin Peaks (Leo Johnson's lawyer, for those buffs out there), he was a Brian Wilson collaborator and commercially unsuccessful solo artist. Which is a shame, because his debut (incidentally one of the most expensive albums ever made), is an absolutely stunning accomplishment. Seamlessly mixing together every part of americana he can get his hands on, Parks creates a sound world of uncompromising vision. But it's still pop music, don't worry, he stuffs this album more full of hooks than I will be next weeks, when I apparently have two thanksgivings in two days (ah, the upsides of divorced parents).
Until next time, when hopefully I'll be on time.
---Dave
11.19.2008
I Am Healthy, I Am Whole, But I Have Poor Impulse Control
First of all, Monday: Don't think you're stopping me from doing a Mountain Goats post of my own. Oh, no. You're not getting away with this. Stay tuned for next week: Tuesday's EVEN BETTER top ten Mountain Goats songs. Yeah, I said it. (No but really, all the ones she posted are fantastic and everyone should listen to her and listen to them. She's great, JD's great, everyone's great. We're all friends here.)
Except for the fact that the title IS "September 19th Triple X Love! Love". Seriously. Wikipedia never lies. Monday, it's time to change your iTunes info.
So.
Like I said, the theme of this post is winter. Snow, specifically. Because it's winter. And it's snowing. Already. Before Thanksgiving. And my Uggs and long puffy down coat are beginning to push themselves toward the front of my closet, becoming more and more enticing every day. The gloves are out, the hats are out, the dozens of hand-knit scarves are out. Every time I go to class, I have to peel off four layers of outerwear before I can even sit down. It's officially wintertime. And these are the songs I want to listen to in the snow.
Zipped.
1. Aphex Twin - "Girl/Boy Song"
The elegance in this song astounds me. I am really not a huge fan of Aphex Twin in general, but that's the first word that comes to mind when I hear this. Elegance. It just feels somehow like the beginnings of a snowstorm; the movement in the song mirrors the swirling of the flakes, and you just start to see patterns everywhere. Elegance, pure and simple.
2. The Flaming Lips - "Suddenly Everything Has Changed"
This song just feels so slow, in the best way possible. I love how it deals with sparsity, and yet every moment in the song, even when it's essentially silent, seems so completely full and loaded. This is a sitting-inside-and-looking-out song (as opposed to the Aphex Twin, which is most definitely a tromping-around-in-the-snow song).
3. John Cale - "Paris 1919"
Just listen to how dense and wintry those intro strings are! Brr. Don't you just want to walk around in the snow chanting "You're a ghost, la la la la la la la la la!"?
4. Grizzly Bear - "Plans"
I love how the first line of this song just completely engulfs you. It's pressuring you, slowly, steadily. It's pushing up from under your feet until it encases you, keeping your pocketed hands pinned to your sides. The swinging, slogging rhythm covers you with sloth, with immobility, until all you can do is stand still and listen. In the snow, preferably.
5. Sun Kil Moon - "Carry Me Ohio"
Yeah, I mean, I had to. I live there. That's what this post is about, really. I can't speak for the rest of you, but this is Ohio for the next few months.
6. Air - "Highschool Lover"
The instrumental-only version of "Playground Love" from the "Virgin Suicides" soundtrack. This song is sort of old for me; the original was a big favorite of mine in high school. The ethereal-ness (ethereality?) works so well for the wintertime; the simplicity of the basic piano melody and the pulsing backdrop provide a clear setting.
7. Belle & Sebastian - "We Rule the School"
There were a few choices from "Tigermilk", B&S's debut album, that I was considering for this, but "Fox in the Snow" seemed too obvious and, ironically, "I Don't Love Anyone" just wasn't quite depressing enough. The gorgeousness of "We Rule the School" is in its simplicity: just a few instruments and very spare, understated vocals. This isn't a tromping-in-the-snow song or a sitting-inside song, this is a standing-in-the-middle-of-a-snowdrift-and-looking-at-everything-around-you song. Just make sure your boots are warm enough.
8. Indian Jewelry - "Swans"
I actually just found this band a couple hours ago, sifting through CDs in my school's radio station. The song isn't quite old and isn't quite new; the album, "Free Gold!", came out this past May. This song especially has a very static-y, My Bloody Valentine-esque feel to it. You just have to sit and bob your head while the sound fills the space around you.
9. The Walkmen - "The Rat"
Another high school oldie. But this song will never lose its flavor. I will never stop frantically air-drumming to this song whenever I hear it. This song probably has more power and energy than all the other songs on this list combined, which I think is a nice break from all those other, slow, "pretty" wintery songs. This song is nothing if not frantic. It's chilly. It's cold. Everyone needs a nice song to yell along to every once in a while.
10. David Bowie - "Life on Mars?"
Let's be honest, this song would probably be on any mix I'd make. Partially because yes, okay, I adore it, but also just because it's so fucking versatile. It works for almost anything. It's a good happy song, it's a good sad song, it's a good angry song, it's a good pump-up song. I can't think of anything I enjoy more in this world than driving around singing along to this song at the top of my lungs. Except, maybe, singing along to it at the top of my lungs while walking by myself. And that enjoyment could only be increased if it was snowing.
11. The Mountain Goats - "Riches and Wonders"
This was a hard choice. Like Miss Monday said yesterday, there's just SO MUCH to choose from. And I feel like lo-fi in general just goes along pretty well with winter - all that fuzziness, you know? - so virtually any of their older work would be nearly perfect. Especially the albums as a whole - for winter I'd especially recommend "Come, Come to the Sunset Tree" and "Zopilote Machine" - but I just think this is a really pretty song, in the simplest way possible. It warms my heart, which is something everyone needs on a cold day.
12. Little Joy - "Brand New Start"
Here's a new one. Bright and uplifting, a nice contrast to most of the other songs on here. You can't get through the entire season only listening to this depressing shit, even if it does reflect somewhat the world around you. Make yourself listen to something that'll make you feel good. Listen to this and take a walk - no, skip! - through the snow.
13. Emily Haines & the Soft Skeleton - "The Maid Needs a Maid"
Back to the depressing shit. We've got a somewhat higher-than-normal level of piano this winter, don't we? The melancholy in this song just works so beautifully well; it drags you right along with it. And even though I feel like I'm getting my heart broken every time I hear this, I can't keep myself from falling in love with something this utterly, inarguably beautiful.
14. Animal Collective - "Winter's Love"
Okay, okay, obvious, I know. But it's great (even if a little long for my taste). This song is all about catching snowflakes on your tongue.
15. Yo La Tengo - "Damage"
I first listened to this song last winter and I don't think I've stopped since. God, talk about getting your heart broken every time you hear a song. But I can still never tear myself away. I need to listen to it over and over, as masochistic as that may be.
16. The Innocence Mission - "What A Wonderful World"
Just a really cute, pretty, clean, clear cover. Not much else to it, and there doesn't need to be.
17. LCD Soundsystem - "New York I Love You"
This song works for me along the same lines as "Life on Mars?". But this song is just flat-out cold. Since it's started getting colder outside, I listen to this every night on my way back from the library at two in the morning. It lasts almost exactly as long as the walk does, and by the time I get back to my dorm I feel like my entire body is swelling, bursting at the seams, ready to explode into the frigid air.
That's all, folks. 'Til next week...the Uggs will be back by then, believe me. Brr.
xoxo,
Tuesday
Except for the fact that the title IS "September 19th Triple X Love! Love". Seriously. Wikipedia never lies. Monday, it's time to change your iTunes info.
So.
Like I said, the theme of this post is winter. Snow, specifically. Because it's winter. And it's snowing. Already. Before Thanksgiving. And my Uggs and long puffy down coat are beginning to push themselves toward the front of my closet, becoming more and more enticing every day. The gloves are out, the hats are out, the dozens of hand-knit scarves are out. Every time I go to class, I have to peel off four layers of outerwear before I can even sit down. It's officially wintertime. And these are the songs I want to listen to in the snow.
Zipped.
1. Aphex Twin - "Girl/Boy Song"
The elegance in this song astounds me. I am really not a huge fan of Aphex Twin in general, but that's the first word that comes to mind when I hear this. Elegance. It just feels somehow like the beginnings of a snowstorm; the movement in the song mirrors the swirling of the flakes, and you just start to see patterns everywhere. Elegance, pure and simple.
2. The Flaming Lips - "Suddenly Everything Has Changed"
This song just feels so slow, in the best way possible. I love how it deals with sparsity, and yet every moment in the song, even when it's essentially silent, seems so completely full and loaded. This is a sitting-inside-and-looking-out song (as opposed to the Aphex Twin, which is most definitely a tromping-around-in-the-snow song).
3. John Cale - "Paris 1919"
Just listen to how dense and wintry those intro strings are! Brr. Don't you just want to walk around in the snow chanting "You're a ghost, la la la la la la la la la!"?
4. Grizzly Bear - "Plans"
I love how the first line of this song just completely engulfs you. It's pressuring you, slowly, steadily. It's pushing up from under your feet until it encases you, keeping your pocketed hands pinned to your sides. The swinging, slogging rhythm covers you with sloth, with immobility, until all you can do is stand still and listen. In the snow, preferably.
5. Sun Kil Moon - "Carry Me Ohio"
Yeah, I mean, I had to. I live there. That's what this post is about, really. I can't speak for the rest of you, but this is Ohio for the next few months.
6. Air - "Highschool Lover"
The instrumental-only version of "Playground Love" from the "Virgin Suicides" soundtrack. This song is sort of old for me; the original was a big favorite of mine in high school. The ethereal-ness (ethereality?) works so well for the wintertime; the simplicity of the basic piano melody and the pulsing backdrop provide a clear setting.
7. Belle & Sebastian - "We Rule the School"
There were a few choices from "Tigermilk", B&S's debut album, that I was considering for this, but "Fox in the Snow" seemed too obvious and, ironically, "I Don't Love Anyone" just wasn't quite depressing enough. The gorgeousness of "We Rule the School" is in its simplicity: just a few instruments and very spare, understated vocals. This isn't a tromping-in-the-snow song or a sitting-inside song, this is a standing-in-the-middle-of-a-snowdrift-and-looking-at-everything-around-you song. Just make sure your boots are warm enough.
8. Indian Jewelry - "Swans"
I actually just found this band a couple hours ago, sifting through CDs in my school's radio station. The song isn't quite old and isn't quite new; the album, "Free Gold!", came out this past May. This song especially has a very static-y, My Bloody Valentine-esque feel to it. You just have to sit and bob your head while the sound fills the space around you.
9. The Walkmen - "The Rat"
Another high school oldie. But this song will never lose its flavor. I will never stop frantically air-drumming to this song whenever I hear it. This song probably has more power and energy than all the other songs on this list combined, which I think is a nice break from all those other, slow, "pretty" wintery songs. This song is nothing if not frantic. It's chilly. It's cold. Everyone needs a nice song to yell along to every once in a while.
10. David Bowie - "Life on Mars?"
Let's be honest, this song would probably be on any mix I'd make. Partially because yes, okay, I adore it, but also just because it's so fucking versatile. It works for almost anything. It's a good happy song, it's a good sad song, it's a good angry song, it's a good pump-up song. I can't think of anything I enjoy more in this world than driving around singing along to this song at the top of my lungs. Except, maybe, singing along to it at the top of my lungs while walking by myself. And that enjoyment could only be increased if it was snowing.
11. The Mountain Goats - "Riches and Wonders"
This was a hard choice. Like Miss Monday said yesterday, there's just SO MUCH to choose from. And I feel like lo-fi in general just goes along pretty well with winter - all that fuzziness, you know? - so virtually any of their older work would be nearly perfect. Especially the albums as a whole - for winter I'd especially recommend "Come, Come to the Sunset Tree" and "Zopilote Machine" - but I just think this is a really pretty song, in the simplest way possible. It warms my heart, which is something everyone needs on a cold day.
12. Little Joy - "Brand New Start"
Here's a new one. Bright and uplifting, a nice contrast to most of the other songs on here. You can't get through the entire season only listening to this depressing shit, even if it does reflect somewhat the world around you. Make yourself listen to something that'll make you feel good. Listen to this and take a walk - no, skip! - through the snow.
13. Emily Haines & the Soft Skeleton - "The Maid Needs a Maid"
Back to the depressing shit. We've got a somewhat higher-than-normal level of piano this winter, don't we? The melancholy in this song just works so beautifully well; it drags you right along with it. And even though I feel like I'm getting my heart broken every time I hear this, I can't keep myself from falling in love with something this utterly, inarguably beautiful.
14. Animal Collective - "Winter's Love"
Okay, okay, obvious, I know. But it's great (even if a little long for my taste). This song is all about catching snowflakes on your tongue.
15. Yo La Tengo - "Damage"
I first listened to this song last winter and I don't think I've stopped since. God, talk about getting your heart broken every time you hear a song. But I can still never tear myself away. I need to listen to it over and over, as masochistic as that may be.
16. The Innocence Mission - "What A Wonderful World"
Just a really cute, pretty, clean, clear cover. Not much else to it, and there doesn't need to be.
17. LCD Soundsystem - "New York I Love You"
This song works for me along the same lines as "Life on Mars?". But this song is just flat-out cold. Since it's started getting colder outside, I listen to this every night on my way back from the library at two in the morning. It lasts almost exactly as long as the walk does, and by the time I get back to my dorm I feel like my entire body is swelling, bursting at the seams, ready to explode into the frigid air.
That's all, folks. 'Til next week...the Uggs will be back by then, believe me. Brr.
xoxo,
Tuesday
11.18.2008
"John Darnielle Would Never Say, 'Whatev.'"
HYPER-EMOTIONAL MUSIC MONDAYS!
Hey guys, guess what? I really love the Mountain Goats! If you know me, you’re probably rolling your eyes right now, and Ms. Tuesday might be pissed that I got to this entry before she did.
So making this list was pretty hard, since JD has penned over 500 songs in his fifteen-year recording career. I pride myself in having heard a lot of them, maybe almost all of them. There are only a few that I don’t actually like. Also, it’s bullshit that I don’t have anything from All Hail West Texas on here, since that is one of my favorite MGs albums, but it was actually impossible to pick only one or even two songs off of that album that I liked more than all the others.
(10) Raid on Entebbe—Jack and Faye
This is the first Mountain Goats song I ever heard, for some reason. I thought he was insane for doing the thing where he lists everything he can see, everything he feels, and everything anyone does so that the scene is in perfect visceral detail. I think one of the reasons that I love the Mountain Goats so much (and my best friend and philosopher-queen, D. Young, has posited this before) is that nothing in his songs is abstract. Nothing is open to interpretation—he brings you right there with him, sometimes almost sickeningly so. He’s not singing this because there are these abstract feelings that he is expressing about some abstract second person that may or may not be in the audience. He’s singing this because he HAS to tell YOU this story. He HAS to tell you every little thing about it. As someone from Tiny Mix Tapes said before me, “John Darnielle would never say ‘whatev.’” Everything is important. Every feeling, every utterance, every detail. “Raid on Entebbe” is a textbook example of JD’s anti-whatev philosophy, which is why I love it so much.
(9) The Recognition Scene—Sweden
You can feel this song in your bloodstream, as if JD stuck an IV in there and dripped this syrup in it--pure, distilled, saccharine melancholy. I think this song is often overlooked, being the first track on Sweden and all, but every time I hear it I am electrified and placated at the same time. My body stiffens and relaxes into mush, simultaneously. It’s almost like being in love with someone you hate.
(8) Game Shows Touch Our Lives—Tallahassee
Speaking of being in love with someone you hate… “People say friends don’t destroy one another/what do they know about friends?” One of the all time Darnilleist Darnielle lyrics, and even though I’ve never been in an emotionally abusive relationship, I know EXACTLY what he means. “Our house sinking into disrepair/Ah, but look at this showroom/filled with fabulous prizes”—not only does he touch on the excellent House Metaphor that he loves so much (see: The Fall of the House of Usher), but he’s also talking about the eggs that Woody Allen (the other dysfunctional relationship expert) talks about at the end of Annie Hall. It’s a sudden, completely visible moment of clarity, and everything is finally foucused.
(7) Jaipur—the Coroner’s Gambit
It’s all about the crunchy guitar and the particular way the 8-track picks up the almost unbearably nasal quality of his voice here. It makes everything so much direr, more volatile. JD’s infamous biblical/mythological references are in top form here, blending them with the Otis Redding-style narrative of moving up and down the eastern seaboard. I can’t think of a time when he’s more desperate than he is here, roaming, waiting for a car with chrome tail pipes, the jewel-encrusted chariot.
(6) Maize Stalk Drinking Blood—Full Force Galesburg
“This is an empty country/and I am the king/and I should not be allowed to touch anything.” That is all. Also, the image in the title used to freak me out a lot and made me not want to listen to the song, but then I learned about the meso-American myth that it’s referencing, and now I think it’s awesome.
(5) Commandante—Devil in the Shortwave
My friends are all pretty pissed at me for singing this song incessantly while I’m tryina get my drink on. It’s a kickass drinking song at its core, with enough Mao references to keep any pinko happy. “We’re gonna sail though the night sky/like a pair of bottle rockets” is one of JD’s more adorable images, but this song is on here because it’s just so much fun to yell at the top of your lungs when your drunk with all of your other MGs lovin’ friends.
(4) September 16th Triple X Love! Love!—Sweden
The Tuesday girl is going to insist that this song is titled “September 19th Triple X Love! Love!” but actually, I have no idea where the title comes from, and it bugs me. It’s classic passive/aggressive JD, and I think it has some of the most beautiful imagery of all of the Mountain Goats’ beautiful imagery. If I die before I see someone outside my window chopping wood and setting it on fire in the snow, my life will have been so much the worse.
(3) Going to Queens—Sweden
You just can’t have one without the other. And just before you think that Sweden is being overrepresented on this list, just take a listen to this track. It’s so nice to hear Rachel, bassist with tMGs until 1995, singing this nursery rhyme, with JD doing the growly harmonies underneath. Once, JD played this song for me around a campfire between sips of whiskey. It was two years ago, and I still know that I will die happy.
Look! There he is, teaching my best friend’s ex-boyfriend how to play something! (Polaroid credit: D. Young, 2007).
(2) Minnesota—Full Force Galesburg
I don’t think JD has ever written a better slow jam. His voice is so small here, and I feel like his guitar is deeper than the 8-track allows for. It’s a song you can live inside of.
“We may throw the windows open later/but we are not as far west as you suppose we are.”
(1) Going to Bridlington—unreleased
So how alt am I, telling all of y’all that my favorite tMGs song is unreleased. But you know how when you know someone really well, it’s really hard to describe what they’re like? Or you know how when you take a personality test, you have to answer yes or no questions and you just sort of sit there for a while like, scratching your head, “Am I usually early or late for my appointments?” Trying to tell you why I like this song so goddamn much is sort of like that. It’s pretty unfathomable.
I'll get you the links to this shit tomorrow. Right now it's not even technically Monday anymore, and my history paper is callin' my name.
Hey guys, guess what? I really love the Mountain Goats! If you know me, you’re probably rolling your eyes right now, and Ms. Tuesday might be pissed that I got to this entry before she did.
So making this list was pretty hard, since JD has penned over 500 songs in his fifteen-year recording career. I pride myself in having heard a lot of them, maybe almost all of them. There are only a few that I don’t actually like. Also, it’s bullshit that I don’t have anything from All Hail West Texas on here, since that is one of my favorite MGs albums, but it was actually impossible to pick only one or even two songs off of that album that I liked more than all the others.
(10) Raid on Entebbe—Jack and Faye
This is the first Mountain Goats song I ever heard, for some reason. I thought he was insane for doing the thing where he lists everything he can see, everything he feels, and everything anyone does so that the scene is in perfect visceral detail. I think one of the reasons that I love the Mountain Goats so much (and my best friend and philosopher-queen, D. Young, has posited this before) is that nothing in his songs is abstract. Nothing is open to interpretation—he brings you right there with him, sometimes almost sickeningly so. He’s not singing this because there are these abstract feelings that he is expressing about some abstract second person that may or may not be in the audience. He’s singing this because he HAS to tell YOU this story. He HAS to tell you every little thing about it. As someone from Tiny Mix Tapes said before me, “John Darnielle would never say ‘whatev.’” Everything is important. Every feeling, every utterance, every detail. “Raid on Entebbe” is a textbook example of JD’s anti-whatev philosophy, which is why I love it so much.
(9) The Recognition Scene—Sweden
You can feel this song in your bloodstream, as if JD stuck an IV in there and dripped this syrup in it--pure, distilled, saccharine melancholy. I think this song is often overlooked, being the first track on Sweden and all, but every time I hear it I am electrified and placated at the same time. My body stiffens and relaxes into mush, simultaneously. It’s almost like being in love with someone you hate.
(8) Game Shows Touch Our Lives—Tallahassee
Speaking of being in love with someone you hate… “People say friends don’t destroy one another/what do they know about friends?” One of the all time Darnilleist Darnielle lyrics, and even though I’ve never been in an emotionally abusive relationship, I know EXACTLY what he means. “Our house sinking into disrepair/Ah, but look at this showroom/filled with fabulous prizes”—not only does he touch on the excellent House Metaphor that he loves so much (see: The Fall of the House of Usher), but he’s also talking about the eggs that Woody Allen (the other dysfunctional relationship expert) talks about at the end of Annie Hall. It’s a sudden, completely visible moment of clarity, and everything is finally foucused.
(7) Jaipur—the Coroner’s Gambit
It’s all about the crunchy guitar and the particular way the 8-track picks up the almost unbearably nasal quality of his voice here. It makes everything so much direr, more volatile. JD’s infamous biblical/mythological references are in top form here, blending them with the Otis Redding-style narrative of moving up and down the eastern seaboard. I can’t think of a time when he’s more desperate than he is here, roaming, waiting for a car with chrome tail pipes, the jewel-encrusted chariot.
(6) Maize Stalk Drinking Blood—Full Force Galesburg
“This is an empty country/and I am the king/and I should not be allowed to touch anything.” That is all. Also, the image in the title used to freak me out a lot and made me not want to listen to the song, but then I learned about the meso-American myth that it’s referencing, and now I think it’s awesome.
(5) Commandante—Devil in the Shortwave
My friends are all pretty pissed at me for singing this song incessantly while I’m tryina get my drink on. It’s a kickass drinking song at its core, with enough Mao references to keep any pinko happy. “We’re gonna sail though the night sky/like a pair of bottle rockets” is one of JD’s more adorable images, but this song is on here because it’s just so much fun to yell at the top of your lungs when your drunk with all of your other MGs lovin’ friends.
(4) September 16th Triple X Love! Love!—Sweden
The Tuesday girl is going to insist that this song is titled “September 19th Triple X Love! Love!” but actually, I have no idea where the title comes from, and it bugs me. It’s classic passive/aggressive JD, and I think it has some of the most beautiful imagery of all of the Mountain Goats’ beautiful imagery. If I die before I see someone outside my window chopping wood and setting it on fire in the snow, my life will have been so much the worse.
(3) Going to Queens—Sweden
You just can’t have one without the other. And just before you think that Sweden is being overrepresented on this list, just take a listen to this track. It’s so nice to hear Rachel, bassist with tMGs until 1995, singing this nursery rhyme, with JD doing the growly harmonies underneath. Once, JD played this song for me around a campfire between sips of whiskey. It was two years ago, and I still know that I will die happy.
Look! There he is, teaching my best friend’s ex-boyfriend how to play something! (Polaroid credit: D. Young, 2007).
(2) Minnesota—Full Force Galesburg
I don’t think JD has ever written a better slow jam. His voice is so small here, and I feel like his guitar is deeper than the 8-track allows for. It’s a song you can live inside of.
“We may throw the windows open later/but we are not as far west as you suppose we are.”
(1) Going to Bridlington—unreleased
So how alt am I, telling all of y’all that my favorite tMGs song is unreleased. But you know how when you know someone really well, it’s really hard to describe what they’re like? Or you know how when you take a personality test, you have to answer yes or no questions and you just sort of sit there for a while like, scratching your head, “Am I usually early or late for my appointments?” Trying to tell you why I like this song so goddamn much is sort of like that. It’s pretty unfathomable.
I'll get you the links to this shit tomorrow. Right now it's not even technically Monday anymore, and my history paper is callin' my name.
11.14.2008
The second installment
Hey y'all, Thursday here.
Sorry for the delay, I have been swamped with work. Numbers 6-10 proved a lot more difficult than I had assumed, and the list is still tentative because of my ambivalence. 1-5 have always been somewhat unofficially solidified in my mind, but I could probably squeeze 20 albums into these last 5 spots.
Without further ado, numbers 6-10 of MY top 10 hip-hop albums of all time:
10. Operation: Doomsday (1999) - MF DOOM
Many DOOM fans will tell you that his collaboration work is far superior to his solo work. This is probably true (it's hard to make forgettable music when working with the likes Danger Mouse,Ghostface, Nas, Madlib, and J Dilla); I would go as far as to agree with these people. We could stay friends.
If that same said fan told me that MF DOOM's solo work was sub par, I would immediately begin to imagine a world where I had the ability to dislodge a tracheal ring, deliver a swift roundhouse kick to the cranium, or telepathically summon a flaming Peregrine Falcon; my Eden where everybody has select superpowers, Greg Ostertag is President (and world issues are resolved by international games of 1-on-1 or HORSE. Unfortunately, we almost always lose), familial theme songs are hereditary, and everybody appreciates the musical prowess of DOOM. In reality, I would probably just change the subject to avoid conflict.
I personally have always had a penchant for DOOM the rapper and DOOM the producer, and Operation: Doomsday is an ideal combination of the two. His flow on the album is more mature and less excited than it was circa KMD days, but it's not quite as ransom note-esque as it is on Madvillainy or MM..Food? The combination of the beats and delivery hint that a few drops of the old school influence were added to the Doomsday recipe.
This was DOOM's prime; his now signature, and kind of played-out, production style sounded fresh, he chose some pretty great songs to sample (The Beatles' "Glass Onion", Steely Dan's "Black Cow",Yusef Lateef's "Eastern Market", and various Scooby Doo sounds, among others), and his rhymes were, as always, complex, bizarre, fraught with pop icons, great, and true.
Be it by fate or sheer windfall (I suggest the latter, thereby solidifying the fact that I was chosen to write for this blog), I stumbled upon Operation: Doomsday while looking under MF Grimm's name for The Downfall of Ibliys: A Ghetto Opera (which didn't make this list) in the dilapidated Hip-Hop section of a nearby record store, and was about to put it back until an emaciated RickMoranis looking employee said in a prepubescent falsetto, "Oh, DOOM? He rules!" and then skittered around the corner, back to the depths of Mordor (thank G-O-D for record store disorganization and Dungeons and Dragons). Had it not been for a careless employee, a near-illiterate customer, or Nerdly McFanboy (you be the judge), this list would probably be short two MF DOOM albums. Cue the sighs of relief.
Recommended Track(s): Doomsday, Rhymes Like Dimes, ?, I Hear Voices, Part 1 (This track was replaced by Hero Vs. Villain (Epilogue) on any albums made after 2001).
9. Fishscale (2006) - Ghostface Killah
I can't say that I've ever fully understood a Ghostface song. He is arguably the second-best storyteller after Biggie, yet his songs have absolutely no coherence. His metaphors and similes make zero sense ninety-five percent of the time, but I love them. I used to hate Ghost. Used to think he was an idiot that would just rhyme one word with another regardless of their definitions. I was wrong. Listening to him during the Wu boom (Ironman and Supreme Clientele, mostly), it's pretty tough to decipher one phrase from the next, let alone understand each lyric. Now though, the diabetic Ghost has slowed his flow a few iotas and toned it down a nano-decibel, just enough so that we can begin to surmise that he is, in fact, following a parabolic storyline (intro, climax, resolution/death).
The production by, among others, J Dilla, MF DOOM, Pete Rock, and Just Blaze, basically makes the album, and this mishmash of styles yields surprisingly non-cacophonous results. Ghostface's predilection for soul samples (Marvin Gaye, Sly & the Family Stone) and cocaine (album title, the track Big Girl) stay unchanged, and the Wu alum proves that he can sure as hell still flow. Never has nonsense been so good.
No great story here, I downloaded Fishscale.
Recommended Track(s): The Champ, Big Girl, 9 Milli Bros.
8. Hell Hath No Fury (2006) - Clipse
Malice and Pusha T scare me shitless. Their days as coke and crack dealers (which their Grandma apparently got them into, according to "Intro" on their major label debut Lord Willin', which is also definitely worth copping) have left them perpetually sore and livid beyond their years. Over Neptunes-backed beats, brothers Gene (Malice) and Terrence (Pusha T) Thornton spit harsh rhymes reminiscing about their less fortunate days in Virginia Beach and their subsequent rise in the rap game.
People hate on Clipse because:
1. Their material is repetitive, "they only rhyme about coke and money". So did Jay-Z (flash back to the glorious pre-Beyonce days)* when he was the CEO of the ROC (hoooo). I even think that Clipse's cocaine allusions are more clever than HOV in his prime ("What's under the couch probably free up Santa", "The news call is crack, I call it diet coke", "I'm on top with the ki's (keys), move over Alicia", "Break down keys into dimes and sell 'em like gobstoppers").
2. "Their anger is predictable." So what? Their Mr. Wilson demeanor is something they're not going to change: it's how they flow. We love Ghostface's harangues even though he keeps his intensity at 11 on every album. We, for some reason, eat up Kanye's terrible same word rhymes (he also rhymed Gnarles Barkley with Charles Barkley). We extol Snoop Dogg and he will forever be on the rap pedestal because of Doggystyle and The Last Meal (neither of which made this list), and he made up half of the words on those albums. Clipse can rhyme damn well, so just make sure you have nothing to feel guilty about before listening to any of their albums.
3. "The Neptunes beats are weak". Yeah, I pretty much agree with you. Their beats are really good for one song, but an album saturated with electronic House-sounding tom hits and corny synth crescendos and decrescendos don't tickle my fancy. I've taught myself to take each track as its own entity, which certainly helps. As contradictory as it sounds: one song at a time, this album is perfect.
4. "Spanish Lee is fucking annoying." Yes.
I first listened to this album in the summer of 2006 on my sister's iPod. We were in Bumblesfuck, New Hampshire and she told me to check out the album; I did, and still am. Thanks, sis!
Recommended Track(s): We Got it For Cheap, Keys Open Doors, Trill.
7. Reasonable Doubt (1996) - Jay-Z
I admit that I like(d) The Blueprint better than Reasonable Doubt. Like with Nas, I experienced Hova anachronistically and suffered for it. I have a particular aversion to R&B heavy tracks, which Reasonable Doubt is pretty big into, so I never really gave this album a chance. It's pretty incredible. Young Jay-Z is one of the most creative and amusing rhymesters ever and he is beyond versatile in his delivery, which is how he has stayed relevant after myriad albums when so many who were with him in the beginning have since slowed down. He is arguably at his sharpest here, with his I-just-kick-it-from-my-head attitude, telling his standing on street corners to riding in Maybachs story.
I know this list is supposed to not touch upon how each rapper changed the game with an album, but I'm just gonna talk for a second about how Jay-Z changed the game with this album. As an insolent preteen, I kind of threw Jay-Z in with everybody else rapping about "selling drugs just to get by" for better (Biggie) or for worse (Master P) (just like I, for whatever reason, used to liken Aerosmith to The Rolling Stones when I was in elementary school. Please don't stop reading here), until I, a budding genius, realized that Jay-Z basically started that image. True, he was one of the bigger dealers in Trenton prior to dropping Reasonable Doubt, and people embraced him for it. All I'm saying is that I'd like to see how many of his spawn have actually dealt drugs in their lives (Jadakiss, anyone?). Also, who else has rapped about frugality so proudly ("Partner please, I'm still spending money from '88"), in the midst of an album about raking in dough?
I got Reasonable Doubt at a small record store in the town next to me when I was in early middle school. My Dad liked going there because the owner, a complete Thurston Moore wannabe, engaged him in long conversations and was obviously fascinated by his endless knowledge of music. There wasn't too much of a Hip-Hop section (the owner looked like Thurston Moore), so I leafed through it and was intrigued by Jay-Z's fedora. That sold me. I bought it, and then shelved it for five years after hearing Mary J. Blige wailing on "Can't Knock the Hustle", the album's first track. I forced myself to listen to it twice without stopping about four years back, and that's when I realized that I can't get enough.
Recommended Track(s): Can't Knock The Hustle (cover your ears during the chorus), Brooklyn's Finest (one of the best rap songs ever. With Biggie), Friend or Foe, D'Evils, Dead Presidents II.
6. Aquemini (1998) - OutKast
*I have a theory that there is a direct correlation between life stabilization, or the discovery of a constant, and the plummet of an artist's credibility within his or her genre: Jeff Tweedy kicked nagging a sleeping pill addiction and alcoholism, then he tricked Wilco into recording A Ghost is Born and Sky Blue Sky (hopefully just a foray into Dad Rock), Biggie found Faith, then came Life After Death (and death), Carrot top found Dr. 90210, rhinoplasty, steroids, and a personal trainer, and suddenly we no longer dream of beating him to a (carrot) pulp for Chairman of the Board or any of the other movies that he poisoned cinema with, but rather see him sprinting down the street, wielding a photon rifle in one hand and a syringe in the other. But that's neither here nor there.
Check out MY top 5 Hip-Hop albums here:
http://thesmokedmeatblog.blogspot.com/2008/11/hold-your-nose-here-comes-cold-water.html
Sorry for the delay, I have been swamped with work. Numbers 6-10 proved a lot more difficult than I had assumed, and the list is still tentative because of my ambivalence. 1-5 have always been somewhat unofficially solidified in my mind, but I could probably squeeze 20 albums into these last 5 spots.
Without further ado, numbers 6-10 of MY top 10 hip-hop albums of all time:
10. Operation: Doomsday (1999) - MF DOOM
Many DOOM fans will tell you that his collaboration work is far superior to his solo work. This is probably true (it's hard to make forgettable music when working with the likes Danger Mouse,Ghostface, Nas, Madlib, and J Dilla); I would go as far as to agree with these people. We could stay friends.
If that same said fan told me that MF DOOM's solo work was sub par, I would immediately begin to imagine a world where I had the ability to dislodge a tracheal ring, deliver a swift roundhouse kick to the cranium, or telepathically summon a flaming Peregrine Falcon; my Eden where everybody has select superpowers, Greg Ostertag is President (and world issues are resolved by international games of 1-on-1 or HORSE. Unfortunately, we almost always lose), familial theme songs are hereditary, and everybody appreciates the musical prowess of DOOM. In reality, I would probably just change the subject to avoid conflict.
I personally have always had a penchant for DOOM the rapper and DOOM the producer, and Operation: Doomsday is an ideal combination of the two. His flow on the album is more mature and less excited than it was circa KMD days, but it's not quite as ransom note-esque as it is on Madvillainy or MM..Food? The combination of the beats and delivery hint that a few drops of the old school influence were added to the Doomsday recipe.
This was DOOM's prime; his now signature, and kind of played-out, production style sounded fresh, he chose some pretty great songs to sample (The Beatles' "Glass Onion", Steely Dan's "Black Cow",Yusef Lateef's "Eastern Market", and various Scooby Doo sounds, among others), and his rhymes were, as always, complex, bizarre, fraught with pop icons, great, and true.
Be it by fate or sheer windfall (I suggest the latter, thereby solidifying the fact that I was chosen to write for this blog), I stumbled upon Operation: Doomsday while looking under MF Grimm's name for The Downfall of Ibliys: A Ghetto Opera (which didn't make this list) in the dilapidated Hip-Hop section of a nearby record store, and was about to put it back until an emaciated RickMoranis looking employee said in a prepubescent falsetto, "Oh, DOOM? He rules!" and then skittered around the corner, back to the depths of Mordor (thank G-O-D for record store disorganization and Dungeons and Dragons). Had it not been for a careless employee, a near-illiterate customer, or Nerdly McFanboy (you be the judge), this list would probably be short two MF DOOM albums. Cue the sighs of relief.
Recommended Track(s): Doomsday, Rhymes Like Dimes, ?, I Hear Voices, Part 1 (This track was replaced by Hero Vs. Villain (Epilogue) on any albums made after 2001).
9. Fishscale (2006) - Ghostface Killah
I can't say that I've ever fully understood a Ghostface song. He is arguably the second-best storyteller after Biggie, yet his songs have absolutely no coherence. His metaphors and similes make zero sense ninety-five percent of the time, but I love them. I used to hate Ghost. Used to think he was an idiot that would just rhyme one word with another regardless of their definitions. I was wrong. Listening to him during the Wu boom (Ironman and Supreme Clientele, mostly), it's pretty tough to decipher one phrase from the next, let alone understand each lyric. Now though, the diabetic Ghost has slowed his flow a few iotas and toned it down a nano-decibel, just enough so that we can begin to surmise that he is, in fact, following a parabolic storyline (intro, climax, resolution/death).
The production by, among others, J Dilla, MF DOOM, Pete Rock, and Just Blaze, basically makes the album, and this mishmash of styles yields surprisingly non-cacophonous results. Ghostface's predilection for soul samples (Marvin Gaye, Sly & the Family Stone) and cocaine (album title, the track Big Girl) stay unchanged, and the Wu alum proves that he can sure as hell still flow. Never has nonsense been so good.
No great story here, I downloaded Fishscale.
Recommended Track(s): The Champ, Big Girl, 9 Milli Bros.
8. Hell Hath No Fury (2006) - Clipse
Malice and Pusha T scare me shitless. Their days as coke and crack dealers (which their Grandma apparently got them into, according to "Intro" on their major label debut Lord Willin', which is also definitely worth copping) have left them perpetually sore and livid beyond their years. Over Neptunes-backed beats, brothers Gene (Malice) and Terrence (Pusha T) Thornton spit harsh rhymes reminiscing about their less fortunate days in Virginia Beach and their subsequent rise in the rap game.
People hate on Clipse because:
1. Their material is repetitive, "they only rhyme about coke and money". So did Jay-Z (flash back to the glorious pre-Beyonce days)* when he was the CEO of the ROC (hoooo). I even think that Clipse's cocaine allusions are more clever than HOV in his prime ("What's under the couch probably free up Santa", "The news call is crack, I call it diet coke", "I'm on top with the ki's (keys), move over Alicia", "Break down keys into dimes and sell 'em like gobstoppers").
2. "Their anger is predictable." So what? Their Mr. Wilson demeanor is something they're not going to change: it's how they flow. We love Ghostface's harangues even though he keeps his intensity at 11 on every album. We, for some reason, eat up Kanye's terrible same word rhymes (he also rhymed Gnarles Barkley with Charles Barkley). We extol Snoop Dogg and he will forever be on the rap pedestal because of Doggystyle and The Last Meal (neither of which made this list), and he made up half of the words on those albums. Clipse can rhyme damn well, so just make sure you have nothing to feel guilty about before listening to any of their albums.
3. "The Neptunes beats are weak". Yeah, I pretty much agree with you. Their beats are really good for one song, but an album saturated with electronic House-sounding tom hits and corny synth crescendos and decrescendos don't tickle my fancy. I've taught myself to take each track as its own entity, which certainly helps. As contradictory as it sounds: one song at a time, this album is perfect.
4. "Spanish Lee is fucking annoying." Yes.
I first listened to this album in the summer of 2006 on my sister's iPod. We were in Bumblesfuck, New Hampshire and she told me to check out the album; I did, and still am. Thanks, sis!
Recommended Track(s): We Got it For Cheap, Keys Open Doors, Trill.
7. Reasonable Doubt (1996) - Jay-Z
I admit that I like(d) The Blueprint better than Reasonable Doubt. Like with Nas, I experienced Hova anachronistically and suffered for it. I have a particular aversion to R&B heavy tracks, which Reasonable Doubt is pretty big into, so I never really gave this album a chance. It's pretty incredible. Young Jay-Z is one of the most creative and amusing rhymesters ever and he is beyond versatile in his delivery, which is how he has stayed relevant after myriad albums when so many who were with him in the beginning have since slowed down. He is arguably at his sharpest here, with his I-just-kick-it-from-my-head attitude, telling his standing on street corners to riding in Maybachs story.
I know this list is supposed to not touch upon how each rapper changed the game with an album, but I'm just gonna talk for a second about how Jay-Z changed the game with this album. As an insolent preteen, I kind of threw Jay-Z in with everybody else rapping about "selling drugs just to get by" for better (Biggie) or for worse (Master P) (just like I, for whatever reason, used to liken Aerosmith to The Rolling Stones when I was in elementary school. Please don't stop reading here), until I, a budding genius, realized that Jay-Z basically started that image. True, he was one of the bigger dealers in Trenton prior to dropping Reasonable Doubt, and people embraced him for it. All I'm saying is that I'd like to see how many of his spawn have actually dealt drugs in their lives (Jadakiss, anyone?). Also, who else has rapped about frugality so proudly ("Partner please, I'm still spending money from '88"), in the midst of an album about raking in dough?
I got Reasonable Doubt at a small record store in the town next to me when I was in early middle school. My Dad liked going there because the owner, a complete Thurston Moore wannabe, engaged him in long conversations and was obviously fascinated by his endless knowledge of music. There wasn't too much of a Hip-Hop section (the owner looked like Thurston Moore), so I leafed through it and was intrigued by Jay-Z's fedora. That sold me. I bought it, and then shelved it for five years after hearing Mary J. Blige wailing on "Can't Knock the Hustle", the album's first track. I forced myself to listen to it twice without stopping about four years back, and that's when I realized that I can't get enough.
Recommended Track(s): Can't Knock The Hustle (cover your ears during the chorus), Brooklyn's Finest (one of the best rap songs ever. With Biggie), Friend or Foe, D'Evils, Dead Presidents II.
6. Aquemini (1998) - OutKast
ATLiens occupied this spot until the last minute (see what I mean about my inability to make decisions and stick to them?) but I think, ultimately, Andre 3000's utter quirkiness being in full form straight from the get-go (his introductory monologue on "Return of the "G"" is still my second favorite, between Q-Tip's dropping of some serious knowledge on "Excursions", and Andre again on UGK's "Int'l Player's Anthem (I Choose You)) is what helped Aquemini eke it out. Listening to the album now, it's kind of weird to hear Andre 3000 actually rapping instead of love ballading. Also, he and Big Boi sound pretty similar (what really sets them apart is Andre's ridiculous intonation).
I like to think of Aquemini as the album that bridged the gap between Big Boi and Andre 3000's obvious different beat and material preferences. I usually see the duo's debut, Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik, as more of a brainchild of Big Boi, with most of the songs flaunting cruising in low-riders, southern pimping, and slowly sipping on gross Southern fortified liqueurs (for proof, watch Big Boi on Cribs and peep his cars and "Boom-Boom Room"). It's really a great album in its own respect, especially considering that they had just finished high school. The only downside to it is that it, along with the Geto Boys and Scarface, laid the foundation for Southern Hip-Hop, thus allowing "rappers" like Paul Wall, Mike Jones (Who?!), and, oh god, Lil' John to take over (and subsequently destroy, defame, and discredit) the sub-genre. ATLiens, though, is straight Andre all the way. The far out beats and absurd rhyme content could only come from the mind that reminded us that spaceships don't come equipped with rear-view mirrors (this idea has not yet fully been tarnished).
The fact that OutKast could combine über-different themes one one coherent album speaks volumes about the rappers themselves. Big Boi was incredible: intelligent, thoughtful, opinionated, and Andre was insane, but man can they rap. The combination of BB's relentless and unceasing flow with Andre's unique verse arrangement, which draws a lot from poetry-- it seems to be written almost in stanzas and is pretty heavy on enjambment-- makes each song incredibly diverse and exciting. Most of all, though, we can say this album is great because it is timeless. The way that Marquee Moon sounds like it could have been written two weeks ago, Aquemini will always seem eerily contemporary.
Recommended Track(s): Return of the "G", Rosa Parks, Skew it on the Bar-B, Aquemini, Da Art Of Storytellin' (both parts).
*I have a theory that there is a direct correlation between life stabilization, or the discovery of a constant, and the plummet of an artist's credibility within his or her genre: Jeff Tweedy kicked nagging a sleeping pill addiction and alcoholism, then he tricked Wilco into recording A Ghost is Born and Sky Blue Sky (hopefully just a foray into Dad Rock), Biggie found Faith, then came Life After Death (and death), Carrot top found Dr. 90210, rhinoplasty, steroids, and a personal trainer, and suddenly we no longer dream of beating him to a (carrot) pulp for Chairman of the Board or any of the other movies that he poisoned cinema with, but rather see him sprinting down the street, wielding a photon rifle in one hand and a syringe in the other. But that's neither here nor there.
Check out MY top 5 Hip-Hop albums here:
http://thesmokedmeatblog.blogspot.com/2008/11/hold-your-nose-here-comes-cold-water.html
11.13.2008
Don't Treat Women Like Objects OR Can't Live Without 'Em, Can't Live With 'Em
Because in this case, they're an indie rock band, and probably too cool to live with people who read blogs. Women hail from Calgary, also the home of Flemish Eye label mate Chad VanGaalen, who recorded their self-titled debut in his basement on boomboxes and shitty tape machines. This gives the album its permeating tape hiss as well as it's dense, oppressive feel, recalling to these ears a Sonic Youth who listened to and learned from their idols instead of killing them.
Before I delve deeper into the debut at hand, I just want to mention that I was lucky enough to see these guys on their current tour. They opened for King Khan at a show at the bar on my college campus, throwing me for a serious loop when I showed up ready to rock out (read: drunk). Instead, the angular guitars and chilling monotone of Patrick Flegel lulled me into a deep haze, where I decided the instrumental freak outs reminded me of Pavement's noodlier bits and the songcraft reminded me equally of the Beach Boys and the Velvet Underground. I hadn't heard any songs by Women (although I had obviously seen them creeping around the intranet), but after being so pleasantly surprised by the show, I immediately copped their debut.
Now that I've spent a few weeks with it (took a while to get past the infectiously addictive should-be-single "Black Rice"), the Pavement comparison has fallen by the wayside, replaced by things that seem more suitable upon reflection not colored by the thick, thick haze of malt liquor (Fuck you, Olde English). The instrumental bits are less jangly and meandering than Pavement, fall more into the category of drone music ("Woodbine") or concise, wiry, post-punk sifted through the 90's indie rock explosion and marinated in some fuzz ("Sag Harbor Bridge"). And although these songs are interesting in their own right, it is in their more traditional songs that Women really shines, applying the experimental sonics and concision to brilliant short cuts like opener "Cameras". In addition, Patrick Flegel makes the most of his obviously limited range on his vocal performances, juxtaposing a monotone with a gorgeous falsetto on "Black Rice". Other standout tracks include punchy and unpredictable "Shaking Hand" and the hauntingly brief "Group Transport Hall".
The biggest flaw of the album seems to be time management. Clocking in at a little under a half-hour*, you have to wonder why they felt the need to spend so much time on instrumental drones and overly long breakdowns, which initially help with the atmosphere of the album as a whole a great deal, but ultimately drag it down under their weight. However, in its totality, the debut transcends that burden handily, providing one of the years most insidious growers and a member of my shortlist for top ten albums of 2008.
Women -- Black Rice (left-click)
Women -- Group Transport Hall (left-click)
*This has been a great year for the really short album. Little Joy, anyone?
Before I delve deeper into the debut at hand, I just want to mention that I was lucky enough to see these guys on their current tour. They opened for King Khan at a show at the bar on my college campus, throwing me for a serious loop when I showed up ready to rock out (read: drunk). Instead, the angular guitars and chilling monotone of Patrick Flegel lulled me into a deep haze, where I decided the instrumental freak outs reminded me of Pavement's noodlier bits and the songcraft reminded me equally of the Beach Boys and the Velvet Underground. I hadn't heard any songs by Women (although I had obviously seen them creeping around the intranet), but after being so pleasantly surprised by the show, I immediately copped their debut.
Now that I've spent a few weeks with it (took a while to get past the infectiously addictive should-be-single "Black Rice"), the Pavement comparison has fallen by the wayside, replaced by things that seem more suitable upon reflection not colored by the thick, thick haze of malt liquor (Fuck you, Olde English). The instrumental bits are less jangly and meandering than Pavement, fall more into the category of drone music ("Woodbine") or concise, wiry, post-punk sifted through the 90's indie rock explosion and marinated in some fuzz ("Sag Harbor Bridge"). And although these songs are interesting in their own right, it is in their more traditional songs that Women really shines, applying the experimental sonics and concision to brilliant short cuts like opener "Cameras". In addition, Patrick Flegel makes the most of his obviously limited range on his vocal performances, juxtaposing a monotone with a gorgeous falsetto on "Black Rice". Other standout tracks include punchy and unpredictable "Shaking Hand" and the hauntingly brief "Group Transport Hall".
The biggest flaw of the album seems to be time management. Clocking in at a little under a half-hour*, you have to wonder why they felt the need to spend so much time on instrumental drones and overly long breakdowns, which initially help with the atmosphere of the album as a whole a great deal, but ultimately drag it down under their weight. However, in its totality, the debut transcends that burden handily, providing one of the years most insidious growers and a member of my shortlist for top ten albums of 2008.
Women -- Black Rice (left-click)
Women -- Group Transport Hall (left-click)
*This has been a great year for the really short album. Little Joy, anyone?
11.12.2008
Where Nothing Ever Happens
I have to admit that I totally forgot about this today. It's only my second time, give me a break. But now it's two fifteen and I'm tired and cranky. So I'll just find a random song to post (n.b. I saw David Byrne on Friday, and it was fucking sweet. He played this, and I managed not to cry) and leave you with a question:
Nabakov's 'Ada, or Ardor': Porn, or beautiful, beautiful literature?
Talking Heads - "Heaven" (Stop Making Sense live version)
Nabakov's 'Ada, or Ardor': Porn, or beautiful, beautiful literature?
Talking Heads - "Heaven" (Stop Making Sense live version)
11.10.2008
Been a long lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely time.
ANTIQUATED MUSIC MONDAYS!
Just before we start, I'd like to apologize for starting the week out with such a Sex in the City-esque entry--
One of the many (???) perks of going to college near Cleveland is going to college near the Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of fame. Turns out that this is not a perk, and the Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame is really wack, and that’s what we’re bloggin’ about today.
For those of you who are lucky enough to have never been there, the RnRHoF (???) has lots and lots of artifacts and memorabilia on display that may or may not have something to do with the music your parents like (and also the music you like? For some reason, there was a Built to Spill poster and T-shirt—the one I own—on display and also some of Jay-Z’s jerseys)(Also, when I say “the music that your parent like, I mean the music of their generation. I really, really love a lot of music made in the 60s and 70s, and I realize that most of you do too.). I saw George Harrison’s original 1963 Rickenbacher (which is admittedly pretty awesome) alongside the last piano John Lennon played (creepy) next to a glass case containing Paul McCartney’s Sgt. Pepper suit (whatever). Then there was Janis Joplin’s Porsche (didn’t she want to drive a Mercedes Benz?) painted up all trippy, the focal point of which was a gigantic hallucinogenic mushroom with a gleaming eye painted on the hood. I saw the first-ever U2 t-shirt ever screen-printed (done by the Edge himself in like, 1975) and several pairs of Bono’s sunglasses, as well as the outfit he wore in his first world tour. They had Tina Turner’s dress that she once wore to the VMAs, a leather poncho that belonged to Stevie Winwood, and seemingly every single thing Mick Jagger has ever worn. A highlight was Michael Jackson’s sequined glove that he wore in the “Billy Jean” video, displayed on a rotating prosthetic hand, also in a glass case.
The thing is, I really like the song “Billy Jean.” I also really like that video. But as soon as the sequined glove comes off of Michael Jackson’s hand, I don’t really give a shit about it. I like Michael Jackson’s music, not all of the artifacts that surround it, and not really even him. I really like Janis Joplin, but her weird little car has little to no relevance to the songs she sung. The problem (or, you know, awesome thing) with music is that it can’t really be embodied and then put up on display. The song “Jumpin’ Jack Flash” is great, but it is not the same thing as the outfit Mick Jagger wore when he first performed it.
So would a real Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame just be an empty, white chamber where lots of good records were played? Would it be a magical live venue in which museum staff could re-incarnate any of the dead musicians that they wished to commemorate in one final show? Why would anyone choose to memorialize pop music by displaying all of the things that were sort of dragged along for the ride?
Music is on records, but it’s not the records themselves. It’s played by people who (sometimes) wear clothes, but it’s not the people, and it really isn’t the clothes. Sometimes music has lyrics, but music isn’t the pieces of paper that the lyrics are written on. By displaying all of these things, the Rock ‘n’ Roll Hal of Fame is trying to create visible manifestations of the invisible things that we are actually reacting to when we love music. Maybe you should walk across the street to the Cleveland Museum of Science to learn about sound waves, or talk to a psychiatrist about your intense, untouched feelings that music arouses. But I would say that if you want to memorialize rock music, you should probably jump in your car, crank the Led, and drive as fast as you can away from the Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame.
Rock 'n' Roll: Led Zeppelin
Just before we start, I'd like to apologize for starting the week out with such a Sex in the City-esque entry--
One of the many (???) perks of going to college near Cleveland is going to college near the Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of fame. Turns out that this is not a perk, and the Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame is really wack, and that’s what we’re bloggin’ about today.
For those of you who are lucky enough to have never been there, the RnRHoF (???) has lots and lots of artifacts and memorabilia on display that may or may not have something to do with the music your parents like (and also the music you like? For some reason, there was a Built to Spill poster and T-shirt—the one I own—on display and also some of Jay-Z’s jerseys)(Also, when I say “the music that your parent like, I mean the music of their generation. I really, really love a lot of music made in the 60s and 70s, and I realize that most of you do too.). I saw George Harrison’s original 1963 Rickenbacher (which is admittedly pretty awesome) alongside the last piano John Lennon played (creepy) next to a glass case containing Paul McCartney’s Sgt. Pepper suit (whatever). Then there was Janis Joplin’s Porsche (didn’t she want to drive a Mercedes Benz?) painted up all trippy, the focal point of which was a gigantic hallucinogenic mushroom with a gleaming eye painted on the hood. I saw the first-ever U2 t-shirt ever screen-printed (done by the Edge himself in like, 1975) and several pairs of Bono’s sunglasses, as well as the outfit he wore in his first world tour. They had Tina Turner’s dress that she once wore to the VMAs, a leather poncho that belonged to Stevie Winwood, and seemingly every single thing Mick Jagger has ever worn. A highlight was Michael Jackson’s sequined glove that he wore in the “Billy Jean” video, displayed on a rotating prosthetic hand, also in a glass case.
The thing is, I really like the song “Billy Jean.” I also really like that video. But as soon as the sequined glove comes off of Michael Jackson’s hand, I don’t really give a shit about it. I like Michael Jackson’s music, not all of the artifacts that surround it, and not really even him. I really like Janis Joplin, but her weird little car has little to no relevance to the songs she sung. The problem (or, you know, awesome thing) with music is that it can’t really be embodied and then put up on display. The song “Jumpin’ Jack Flash” is great, but it is not the same thing as the outfit Mick Jagger wore when he first performed it.
So would a real Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame just be an empty, white chamber where lots of good records were played? Would it be a magical live venue in which museum staff could re-incarnate any of the dead musicians that they wished to commemorate in one final show? Why would anyone choose to memorialize pop music by displaying all of the things that were sort of dragged along for the ride?
Music is on records, but it’s not the records themselves. It’s played by people who (sometimes) wear clothes, but it’s not the people, and it really isn’t the clothes. Sometimes music has lyrics, but music isn’t the pieces of paper that the lyrics are written on. By displaying all of these things, the Rock ‘n’ Roll Hal of Fame is trying to create visible manifestations of the invisible things that we are actually reacting to when we love music. Maybe you should walk across the street to the Cleveland Museum of Science to learn about sound waves, or talk to a psychiatrist about your intense, untouched feelings that music arouses. But I would say that if you want to memorialize rock music, you should probably jump in your car, crank the Led, and drive as fast as you can away from the Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame.
Rock 'n' Roll: Led Zeppelin
11.06.2008
Hold your nose, here comes the cold water
Call me Ishmael. I'm Thursday Guy, and, to be completely honest, I couldn't tell you exactly what my theme will be. So, while I'm in the midst of my blogger's identity crisis, I will post a list of MY top 10 hip-hop albums in an epic two part installment.
As a disclaimer, let me just say: this list is going to be biased, opinionated; it's going to be devoid of the original importance or influence that each album had on its genre; it's going to be awesome. I am aware that I am perpetuating a played-out blog cliché. Just don't kick my ass until you read the list.
5-1:
5. Liquid Swords (1995) - GZA
The period between Enter The Wu-Tang and the group's second album, Wu-Tang Forever (1997), was basically a four year domination of the hip-hop genre by the Wu-Tang Clan. Six members (Ol' Dirty Bastard, RZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Raekwon, Ghostface Killah, GZA) released albums that ranged from really good to amazing and the aura of Wu-Tang was at its strongest and most enigmatic stage. Liquid Swords is similar in composition to 4 of the other 5 albums (the exception is RZA's side project with Gravediggaz) in that it's more of a Wu-Tang Presents: The GZA, since many Wu members are featured on the album. That being said, it is the best album of that ilk. It, like most Wu projects, was produced entirely by RZA, and he surpisingly shied away from his raw and crunchy production style, which he mastered (and repeated on Tical), to try a more keyboard-laden one.
GZA's infallible attack seems almost pedagogical in its delivery, teaching us the intricacies of crime and drug wars. They call him the Genius for a reason. I regret to say that I got my hands on Liquid Swords some eight years after it was released, when it dawned on me that maybe I should venture outside of my Nelly and Master P comfort zone, and to find out who made up the ubiquitous Wu-Tang Clan. That isn't to say that I would put this album any higher on the list had I owned it for longer, but I would definitely reconsider it.
Recommended Track(s): Duel of the Iron Mic, Living in the World Today, Gold, 4th Chamber.
4. Madvillainy (2004) - Madvillain (MF DOOM & Madlib)
DOOM has taken on multiple monikers-- Viktor Vaughn, King Geedorah, DangerDOOM (in tandem with DJ Danger Mouse), Zev Love X, Metal Fingers, to name a few-- during his tenure as one of the most revered and lauded figures of underground/alternative hip-hop scene. Raised in Long Island and NYC, via London, DOOM teams up with comparably dope west coast producer Madlib to make, in my opinion, obviously, one of the best hip-hop albums of all time.
The album is comprised of 22 short tracks (only three of which are over 3 minutes in length), a few of which don't include vocals. Madlib's tight and jazzy beats are flawless, and his bizarre sample choice (i.e. Steve Reich?) works to perfection. When DOOM does grace the mic with his injured, convoluted, and guttural flow, though, he once again floors us with his hilariously obscure pop culture references:
"The worst haters God on perpetrated are favors.
Demonstrated in the perforated Rod Lavers".
and depressing reflection:
"They pray four times a day, they pray five
Whose ways is strange when it's time to survive?
Some will go of they own free will to die
Others take them with you when they blow sky high
What's the difference? All you get is lost children
While abortion shit up behind the desk it costs billions
to blast humans in half".
Madvillainy dropped when I was a freshman in high school and had it come out earlier, it may have flirted more with Nas and Biggie on my list.
Oh, and it probably has the best weed tribute song of all time in "America's Most Blunted".
Recommended Track(s): Great Day, Strange Ways, America's Most Blunted, Accordion, Raid.
3. Enter The Wu-Tang (36 Chambers) (1993) - Wu-Tang Clan
The Wu started with nothing aside from some shitty synths and utter insanity, but that's all ultra-nerd producer RZA, along with his cousins the GZA, and the late Ol' Dirty Bastard, needed. They compiled a group of aspiring MC's from Staten Island (Shaolin), and an arsenal of kung-fu movie samples and made an incredible album. It set the standard for hardcore hip-hop with it's risque and controversial lyrical topics and its crunchy production, but it also brought to our attention some pretty fucking great rappers (Meth, Ghost, Rae, GZA, ODB, and occasionally RZA himself).
The most amazing part of this album is its lyrical dynamic: from GZA's intelligent and scientific flow, to Ghostface's nonsensical diatribes; Method Man's slurred comedic genius to ODB's what the fuck is he talking about/is he speaking english rants, these rappers could not be more different in terms of technique, content, and delivery. This conglomeration causes each verse to pack a unique punch.
I first heard of this album after watching Rap City: Tha Bassment featuring the up-and-coming Ja Rule :( talking about his influences. I then got my friend who had the cool dad to take me to a local record store and buy me the album (the preteen equivalent of asking a hobo to buy alcohol). I spent the next few months or so viscerally savoring each lyric and relishing the fact that my mom had no idea of my emerging hip-hop obsession. Still the best combination of lewd, absurd, vulgar, and socially-conscious lyrics ever.
Recommended Track(s): Clan In Da Front, Wu-Tang (7th Chamber), Da Mystery Of Chessboxin', Method Man.
2. Illmatic (1994) - Nas
On Stillmatic, Nas brags "My first album had no famous guest appearances. The outcome: I'm crowned the best lyricist". Save a guest appearance by Brooklyn born AZ on "Life's a Bitch," Nas didn't use any help on the lyrical side of Illmatic. This may be true, but one of the best production teams of all time WAS helping the then prodigal 19 year old. Let's be honest, the aforementioned four producers could bring credibility to Skeet Ulrich if he wanted to rap. Aside from this, though, Nas exhibited his retrospective Queensbridge repping, optimism, and "we shall overcome" mentality to the fullest. The album is perfectly concise (10 songs), which makes you wonder how many tracks were originally cut, and, after listening, makes you realize that each song is perfect. I'm actually kind of glad that I heard this and Ready To Die years apart from one another because then I would have been a lot more conflicted over which album truly deserves the GOAT in my mind. It's really too bad that Illmatic was so good, and that it was instantly extolled as such because there was no way to replicate or better it, as Nas' subsequent tumble down the hip-hop staircase has shown us.
Recommended Track(s): Halftime, NY State of Mind, The World is Yours.
1. Ready To Die (1994) - The Notorious B.I.G.
And mayhem ensues. Many (including at least one of my co-bloggers) would put Illmatic here. And I pretty much agree: it's pretty much untouchable and as valid as hip-hop albums get; it was produced by Pete Rock, Q-Tip, Large Professor, DJ Premier, et al. It's flawless. I know, I know, I know. But, this is my list and I heard Nas in this order: It Was Written, Stillmatic, Illmatic, so it's no wonder I preferred Wallace to Jones.
I was 5 years old when Ready To Die dropped and about 7 years later, I acquired it via my friend who was a bad influence and wasn't allowed in my kitchen. I listened to it through blown out Casio headphones while lying prostrate in my eerily symmetrical bedroom, and once Biggie's saucy flow graced Dominic Owens and Kevin Scott's track on "Things Done Changed", I was hooked. Aside from the introduction, which is a quick recap of Biggie's life before rap, and the HORRIBLY inappropriate "Fuck Me (Interlude)", which I'm convinced can cause discomfort between a couple that has been married for 50 years, each song is a story that's laced with enough malice, humor, vulgarity, and violence to make you cringe, laugh, shudder, and vomit. What more can you ask?
Recommended Track(s): Machine Gun Funk, Everyday Struggles, The What.
My fingers hurt.
I was in quite a moral quandary over how to arrange these two posts. I decided that posting 1-5 would prompt more discussion because who's going to care if the jam they would have put at number 7 slips to number 8? Anyways, I beg you to argue with me. Please. Shout me a holler at smokedmeatblog@gmail.com.
So I will be yours truly each Thursday from now until I lose digit mobility to Carpal Tunnel's.
As a disclaimer, let me just say: this list is going to be biased, opinionated; it's going to be devoid of the original importance or influence that each album had on its genre; it's going to be awesome. I am aware that I am perpetuating a played-out blog cliché. Just don't kick my ass until you read the list.
5-1:
5. Liquid Swords (1995) - GZA
The period between Enter The Wu-Tang and the group's second album, Wu-Tang Forever (1997), was basically a four year domination of the hip-hop genre by the Wu-Tang Clan. Six members (Ol' Dirty Bastard, RZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Raekwon, Ghostface Killah, GZA) released albums that ranged from really good to amazing and the aura of Wu-Tang was at its strongest and most enigmatic stage. Liquid Swords is similar in composition to 4 of the other 5 albums (the exception is RZA's side project with Gravediggaz) in that it's more of a Wu-Tang Presents: The GZA, since many Wu members are featured on the album. That being said, it is the best album of that ilk. It, like most Wu projects, was produced entirely by RZA, and he surpisingly shied away from his raw and crunchy production style, which he mastered (and repeated on Tical), to try a more keyboard-laden one.
GZA's infallible attack seems almost pedagogical in its delivery, teaching us the intricacies of crime and drug wars. They call him the Genius for a reason. I regret to say that I got my hands on Liquid Swords some eight years after it was released, when it dawned on me that maybe I should venture outside of my Nelly and Master P comfort zone, and to find out who made up the ubiquitous Wu-Tang Clan. That isn't to say that I would put this album any higher on the list had I owned it for longer, but I would definitely reconsider it.
Recommended Track(s): Duel of the Iron Mic, Living in the World Today, Gold, 4th Chamber.
4. Madvillainy (2004) - Madvillain (MF DOOM & Madlib)
DOOM has taken on multiple monikers-- Viktor Vaughn, King Geedorah, DangerDOOM (in tandem with DJ Danger Mouse), Zev Love X, Metal Fingers, to name a few-- during his tenure as one of the most revered and lauded figures of underground/alternative hip-hop scene. Raised in Long Island and NYC, via London, DOOM teams up with comparably dope west coast producer Madlib to make, in my opinion, obviously, one of the best hip-hop albums of all time.
The album is comprised of 22 short tracks (only three of which are over 3 minutes in length), a few of which don't include vocals. Madlib's tight and jazzy beats are flawless, and his bizarre sample choice (i.e. Steve Reich?) works to perfection. When DOOM does grace the mic with his injured, convoluted, and guttural flow, though, he once again floors us with his hilariously obscure pop culture references:
"The worst haters God on perpetrated are favors.
Demonstrated in the perforated Rod Lavers".
and depressing reflection:
"They pray four times a day, they pray five
Whose ways is strange when it's time to survive?
Some will go of they own free will to die
Others take them with you when they blow sky high
What's the difference? All you get is lost children
While abortion shit up behind the desk it costs billions
to blast humans in half".
Madvillainy dropped when I was a freshman in high school and had it come out earlier, it may have flirted more with Nas and Biggie on my list.
Oh, and it probably has the best weed tribute song of all time in "America's Most Blunted".
Recommended Track(s): Great Day, Strange Ways, America's Most Blunted, Accordion, Raid.
3. Enter The Wu-Tang (36 Chambers) (1993) - Wu-Tang Clan
The Wu started with nothing aside from some shitty synths and utter insanity, but that's all ultra-nerd producer RZA, along with his cousins the GZA, and the late Ol' Dirty Bastard, needed. They compiled a group of aspiring MC's from Staten Island (Shaolin), and an arsenal of kung-fu movie samples and made an incredible album. It set the standard for hardcore hip-hop with it's risque and controversial lyrical topics and its crunchy production, but it also brought to our attention some pretty fucking great rappers (Meth, Ghost, Rae, GZA, ODB, and occasionally RZA himself).
The most amazing part of this album is its lyrical dynamic: from GZA's intelligent and scientific flow, to Ghostface's nonsensical diatribes; Method Man's slurred comedic genius to ODB's what the fuck is he talking about/is he speaking english rants, these rappers could not be more different in terms of technique, content, and delivery. This conglomeration causes each verse to pack a unique punch.
I first heard of this album after watching Rap City: Tha Bassment featuring the up-and-coming Ja Rule :( talking about his influences. I then got my friend who had the cool dad to take me to a local record store and buy me the album (the preteen equivalent of asking a hobo to buy alcohol). I spent the next few months or so viscerally savoring each lyric and relishing the fact that my mom had no idea of my emerging hip-hop obsession. Still the best combination of lewd, absurd, vulgar, and socially-conscious lyrics ever.
Recommended Track(s): Clan In Da Front, Wu-Tang (7th Chamber), Da Mystery Of Chessboxin', Method Man.
2. Illmatic (1994) - Nas
On Stillmatic, Nas brags "My first album had no famous guest appearances. The outcome: I'm crowned the best lyricist". Save a guest appearance by Brooklyn born AZ on "Life's a Bitch," Nas didn't use any help on the lyrical side of Illmatic. This may be true, but one of the best production teams of all time WAS helping the then prodigal 19 year old. Let's be honest, the aforementioned four producers could bring credibility to Skeet Ulrich if he wanted to rap. Aside from this, though, Nas exhibited his retrospective Queensbridge repping, optimism, and "we shall overcome" mentality to the fullest. The album is perfectly concise (10 songs), which makes you wonder how many tracks were originally cut, and, after listening, makes you realize that each song is perfect. I'm actually kind of glad that I heard this and Ready To Die years apart from one another because then I would have been a lot more conflicted over which album truly deserves the GOAT in my mind. It's really too bad that Illmatic was so good, and that it was instantly extolled as such because there was no way to replicate or better it, as Nas' subsequent tumble down the hip-hop staircase has shown us.
Recommended Track(s): Halftime, NY State of Mind, The World is Yours.
1. Ready To Die (1994) - The Notorious B.I.G.
And mayhem ensues. Many (including at least one of my co-bloggers) would put Illmatic here. And I pretty much agree: it's pretty much untouchable and as valid as hip-hop albums get; it was produced by Pete Rock, Q-Tip, Large Professor, DJ Premier, et al. It's flawless. I know, I know, I know. But, this is my list and I heard Nas in this order: It Was Written, Stillmatic, Illmatic, so it's no wonder I preferred Wallace to Jones.
I was 5 years old when Ready To Die dropped and about 7 years later, I acquired it via my friend who was a bad influence and wasn't allowed in my kitchen. I listened to it through blown out Casio headphones while lying prostrate in my eerily symmetrical bedroom, and once Biggie's saucy flow graced Dominic Owens and Kevin Scott's track on "Things Done Changed", I was hooked. Aside from the introduction, which is a quick recap of Biggie's life before rap, and the HORRIBLY inappropriate "Fuck Me (Interlude)", which I'm convinced can cause discomfort between a couple that has been married for 50 years, each song is a story that's laced with enough malice, humor, vulgarity, and violence to make you cringe, laugh, shudder, and vomit. What more can you ask?
Recommended Track(s): Machine Gun Funk, Everyday Struggles, The What.
My fingers hurt.
I was in quite a moral quandary over how to arrange these two posts. I decided that posting 1-5 would prompt more discussion because who's going to care if the jam they would have put at number 7 slips to number 8? Anyways, I beg you to argue with me. Please. Shout me a holler at smokedmeatblog@gmail.com.
So I will be yours truly each Thursday from now until I lose digit mobility to Carpal Tunnel's.
Hi Guys, It's Wednesday (No Addams Family)
Hey Y'all. Welcome to Wednesday. I hope you spent enough of your day in bed to have recovered from last night. I'm Wednesday guy (my name is dave) for Le Smoked Meat Blog. As an introduction to my taste and to give you an idea of what I'll be posting, I'm gonna do a list. Shut up, you know you love lists.
The list I chose was my favorite albums since the year of my birth, 1989. This is obviously in retrospect, but I must admit that I was tempted to use the albums that were my favorite in the actual year when they were released, which would have led to the most confusing use of a music blog in quite a while (Unless more people than I'm aware of are repping Sugar Ray, Smash Mouth, and Savage Garden on the internets). Anyway, the list.
1989: The Beastie Boys-Paul's Boutique
1990: Pixies-Bossanova
1991: A Tribe Called Quest-Low End Theory
1992: Pavement-Slanted and Enchanted
1993: Wu-Tang-Enter the 36 Chambers
1994: Nas-Illmatic
1995: GZA/Genius-Liquid Swords
1996: DJ Shadow-Endtroducing
1997: Yo La Tengo-I Can Hear the Heart Beating As One
1998: Air-Moon Safari
1999: Sigur Ros-Ágætis byrjun
2000: Tie: Modest Mouse-The Moon and Antarctica/Radiohead-Kid A
2001: Jay-Z-The Blueprint
2002: Wilco-Yankee Hotel Foxtrot
2003: The Shins-Chutes Too Narrow
2004: Madvillain-Madvillainy
2005: Wolf Parade-Apologies to the Queen Mary
2006: Grizzly Bear-Yellow House
2007: Sunset Rubdown-Random Spirit Lover
A few thoughts:
1.) Despite all evidence to the contrary, I am NOT a schizophrenic who is half Thrift Store and half Wu-Wear. Promise, Y'all. H8 Stereotypes.
2.) Choosing between Illmatic and Ready to Die was the hardest thing I've done since halloween, when I sprinted a quarter mile wearing a High School Musical dress and carrying a mini-backpack full of beer.
3.)Choices that surprised me were Moon Safari and Chutes Too Narrow, both of which I think I've already tired of a lot, but have stuck around purely based on how much I loved them in high school.
4.)I left the tie between Moon and Antarctica and Kid A even though I think it's a major cop-out, because those albums actually have the exact same place in my heart (the epic part).
5.) As of right now, there's a three way tie for my favorite album of this year: Wolf Parade/TV on the Radio/Department of Eagles. And if they put the two new Grizzly Bear songs on a piece of plastic, that would win by a lot.
So. That's it for me today. See you next week, when I'll actually talk about stuff that's interesting.
--Dave
P.S. Because I can't leave you without some shit to download:
Grizzly Bear- While You Wait For The Others
Grizzly Bear- Two Weeks
The list I chose was my favorite albums since the year of my birth, 1989. This is obviously in retrospect, but I must admit that I was tempted to use the albums that were my favorite in the actual year when they were released, which would have led to the most confusing use of a music blog in quite a while (Unless more people than I'm aware of are repping Sugar Ray, Smash Mouth, and Savage Garden on the internets). Anyway, the list.
1989: The Beastie Boys-Paul's Boutique
1990: Pixies-Bossanova
1991: A Tribe Called Quest-Low End Theory
1992: Pavement-Slanted and Enchanted
1993: Wu-Tang-Enter the 36 Chambers
1994: Nas-Illmatic
1995: GZA/Genius-Liquid Swords
1996: DJ Shadow-Endtroducing
1997: Yo La Tengo-I Can Hear the Heart Beating As One
1998: Air-Moon Safari
1999: Sigur Ros-Ágætis byrjun
2000: Tie: Modest Mouse-The Moon and Antarctica/Radiohead-Kid A
2001: Jay-Z-The Blueprint
2002: Wilco-Yankee Hotel Foxtrot
2003: The Shins-Chutes Too Narrow
2004: Madvillain-Madvillainy
2005: Wolf Parade-Apologies to the Queen Mary
2006: Grizzly Bear-Yellow House
2007: Sunset Rubdown-Random Spirit Lover
A few thoughts:
1.) Despite all evidence to the contrary, I am NOT a schizophrenic who is half Thrift Store and half Wu-Wear. Promise, Y'all. H8 Stereotypes.
2.) Choosing between Illmatic and Ready to Die was the hardest thing I've done since halloween, when I sprinted a quarter mile wearing a High School Musical dress and carrying a mini-backpack full of beer.
3.)Choices that surprised me were Moon Safari and Chutes Too Narrow, both of which I think I've already tired of a lot, but have stuck around purely based on how much I loved them in high school.
4.)I left the tie between Moon and Antarctica and Kid A even though I think it's a major cop-out, because those albums actually have the exact same place in my heart (the epic part).
5.) As of right now, there's a three way tie for my favorite album of this year: Wolf Parade/TV on the Radio/Department of Eagles. And if they put the two new Grizzly Bear songs on a piece of plastic, that would win by a lot.
So. That's it for me today. See you next week, when I'll actually talk about stuff that's interesting.
--Dave
P.S. Because I can't leave you without some shit to download:
Grizzly Bear- While You Wait For The Others
Grizzly Bear- Two Weeks
11.04.2008
We got your back
Sometimes things get lost in my brain. Detail, description; sometimes they just don’t stick around like they should. My brain sometimes has an exorbitant amount of difficulty sorting and organizing information. It's as if it doesn't get shelved quite where it belongs, so when I go back to look for it I just can't find it anywhere (these mental difficulties sometimes extend to my dorm room, needless to say). So this is why I like lists. They force you to separate, evaluate, organize. A clear, consecutive, numbered list can be such a beautiful thing.
Thus, I had originally wanted to write this whole introductory-blog-post shebang about lists. I was going to compile a list of my Top Ten (or maybe Five...Ten is a lot) Favorite Lists. This turned out to be a little bit more confusing than I expected. I can't even think of that many lists off the top of my head, and where would I go to find them? I had almost given up and switched to my Top Ten Favorite Chemical Elements (coincidentally, I'm currently writing this in my geology class), until I came across Merriam-Webster's Words of the Year list for 2007 (I guess they haven't made the 2008 version yet). It's a user-compiled list that also includes words from M-W's "open dictionary", which is apparently a wiki-type thing where users can just add their own definitions for words. I have to admit, I did learn a couple new words from the list, as well as some other things, including the fact that apparently Facebook isn't just a proper noun anymore! Obviously, I have a few things to say about some of the top ten entries. Here are some I found especially notable, with my comments:
1. w00t. Yeah, really, w00t. Two letters and two numbers that comprise the Word of the Year. I love computers, I really do (see: this blog), but it does make me a little sad that the top two entries on this list are exclusively internet-related. That's not what words are about. You can't write a fucking poem with the word w00t in it. Give me a break.
2. facebook. Lowercase f. Also, all of the definitions listed - the eleven separate submitted definitions for the word - are all verbs. "I just finished facebooking my friends and family." "Have you facebooked those photos from the party last weekend?" "Did you facebook today?" "Hey, I saw you facebooked me." Ugh. You know how sometimes when you write out a word a lot and then it stops seeming like an actual word (which is debatable anyway in this case), and then you can't even remember what it meant in the first place, or why you're saying it, and it's just suddenly completely unfamiliar? I think it's time to move onto the next word. (Hey, maybe this newfound word-repulsion will mean that I'll stay away from a certain social networking site for the rest of the afternoon!)
5. blamestorm. I have never heard this word before! It's great! It's one of my absolute favorite things to do. "Generally pejorative; to spend, or more commonly waste, time attempting to place blame for a given failure." I wish this was in the real dictionary instead of the fake open one. Kudos to Alex Flood from Michigan who submitted that one!
7. apathetic. Of course one of the words is apathetic. Apathetic is pretty much everyone's favorite word for some reason. I should probably try to link this to some huge sweeping judgment on society today or something, but I don't really feel like it.
8. Pecksniffian. Etymology: Seth Pecksniff, character in Martin Chuzzlewit by Charles Dickens. "Unctuously hypocritical." I'm just a little blown away by the fact that we can have both w00t and a Dickens reference on the same list.
Other words on the list that I didn't have anything to say about are: conundrum, quixotic, sardoodledom, hypocrite, charlatan.
I think I like words even more than I like lists. I also like books and films and music and stuff, but I figured talking about some words would be a fitting enough introduction for something that going to consist entirely of me just writing a bunch of words (some more meaningless than others). And as far as the actual obligatory-introduction part that I meant to include earlier, but got sidetracked:
Hello! I'm the Tuesday girl. I come between the Monday girl and the Wednesday boy. I really can't tell you what I'll be writing about in here. I already said that I like words and books and movies, so there'll be a little bit of that, and I'll probably usually if not always have at least something music-related (just hold on, we're getting there). Also, I talk a lot. Get used to it. Or, you know, I could try to be more concise or something, instead of going on paragraph-long rants about Facebook (sorry - facebook). Back to our regularly scheduled programming.
The music part. Yes. So I thought maybe I'd just post some songs that have some of my favorite uses of words in them. Sometimes it's just a single word that I love (see: dirigible), sometimes it's all the words as a whole just being great. But my point is, words are great. Words are everywhere. Words are in music and words are in lists and words are in blogs and on the back of your soda bottle, and I think that's pretty neat. And here are some words for you to hear.
Joanna Newsom - Bridges and Balloons
The girl obviously has a pretty serious vocabulary. Seriously, my heart skips a beat whenever I hear her sing "dirigible".
Andrew Bird - Fake Palindromes
I really adore the way he plays with words in this songs. Okay, so, no, I don't think any of them actually seem like palindromes, even if that is what he's going for, but that doesn't mean that they don't just sound really fucking cool all strung together.
UGK feat. Outkast- Int'l Player's Anthem
A certain later-in-the-week blogger might make fun of me for this because yes, I am completely obsessed with this song, and yes, I haven't been able to stop listening it for - what, the past six months? - and yes, I pretty much just want an excuse to post it. But seriously, I love the way he breaks up 'chiropractic'. That takes skill, man. And, you know, that's just what I always tell my friends: "You know I got your back like chiroprac."
N.B. I only have the radio-edit version. Which is total bullshit and something that I really have to remedy ASAP, but that means that's what you're getting, too. Apologies.
P.S. I can't say "Vote!" because the polls are probably closed. But keep your fingers crossed for tonight, bros. The anxiety is starting to set in.
Thus, I had originally wanted to write this whole introductory-blog-post shebang about lists. I was going to compile a list of my Top Ten (or maybe Five...Ten is a lot) Favorite Lists. This turned out to be a little bit more confusing than I expected. I can't even think of that many lists off the top of my head, and where would I go to find them? I had almost given up and switched to my Top Ten Favorite Chemical Elements (coincidentally, I'm currently writing this in my geology class), until I came across Merriam-Webster's Words of the Year list for 2007 (I guess they haven't made the 2008 version yet). It's a user-compiled list that also includes words from M-W's "open dictionary", which is apparently a wiki-type thing where users can just add their own definitions for words. I have to admit, I did learn a couple new words from the list, as well as some other things, including the fact that apparently Facebook isn't just a proper noun anymore! Obviously, I have a few things to say about some of the top ten entries. Here are some I found especially notable, with my comments:
1. w00t. Yeah, really, w00t. Two letters and two numbers that comprise the Word of the Year. I love computers, I really do (see: this blog), but it does make me a little sad that the top two entries on this list are exclusively internet-related. That's not what words are about. You can't write a fucking poem with the word w00t in it. Give me a break.
2. facebook. Lowercase f. Also, all of the definitions listed - the eleven separate submitted definitions for the word - are all verbs. "I just finished facebooking my friends and family." "Have you facebooked those photos from the party last weekend?" "Did you facebook today?" "Hey, I saw you facebooked me." Ugh. You know how sometimes when you write out a word a lot and then it stops seeming like an actual word (which is debatable anyway in this case), and then you can't even remember what it meant in the first place, or why you're saying it, and it's just suddenly completely unfamiliar? I think it's time to move onto the next word. (Hey, maybe this newfound word-repulsion will mean that I'll stay away from a certain social networking site for the rest of the afternoon!)
5. blamestorm. I have never heard this word before! It's great! It's one of my absolute favorite things to do. "Generally pejorative; to spend, or more commonly waste, time attempting to place blame for a given failure." I wish this was in the real dictionary instead of the fake open one. Kudos to Alex Flood from Michigan who submitted that one!
7. apathetic. Of course one of the words is apathetic. Apathetic is pretty much everyone's favorite word for some reason. I should probably try to link this to some huge sweeping judgment on society today or something, but I don't really feel like it.
8. Pecksniffian. Etymology: Seth Pecksniff, character in Martin Chuzzlewit by Charles Dickens. "Unctuously hypocritical." I'm just a little blown away by the fact that we can have both w00t and a Dickens reference on the same list.
Other words on the list that I didn't have anything to say about are: conundrum, quixotic, sardoodledom, hypocrite, charlatan.
I think I like words even more than I like lists. I also like books and films and music and stuff, but I figured talking about some words would be a fitting enough introduction for something that going to consist entirely of me just writing a bunch of words (some more meaningless than others). And as far as the actual obligatory-introduction part that I meant to include earlier, but got sidetracked:
Hello! I'm the Tuesday girl. I come between the Monday girl and the Wednesday boy. I really can't tell you what I'll be writing about in here. I already said that I like words and books and movies, so there'll be a little bit of that, and I'll probably usually if not always have at least something music-related (just hold on, we're getting there). Also, I talk a lot. Get used to it. Or, you know, I could try to be more concise or something, instead of going on paragraph-long rants about Facebook (sorry - facebook). Back to our regularly scheduled programming.
The music part. Yes. So I thought maybe I'd just post some songs that have some of my favorite uses of words in them. Sometimes it's just a single word that I love (see: dirigible), sometimes it's all the words as a whole just being great. But my point is, words are great. Words are everywhere. Words are in music and words are in lists and words are in blogs and on the back of your soda bottle, and I think that's pretty neat. And here are some words for you to hear.
Joanna Newsom - Bridges and Balloons
The girl obviously has a pretty serious vocabulary. Seriously, my heart skips a beat whenever I hear her sing "dirigible".
Andrew Bird - Fake Palindromes
I really adore the way he plays with words in this songs. Okay, so, no, I don't think any of them actually seem like palindromes, even if that is what he's going for, but that doesn't mean that they don't just sound really fucking cool all strung together.
UGK feat. Outkast- Int'l Player's Anthem
A certain later-in-the-week blogger might make fun of me for this because yes, I am completely obsessed with this song, and yes, I haven't been able to stop listening it for - what, the past six months? - and yes, I pretty much just want an excuse to post it. But seriously, I love the way he breaks up 'chiropractic'. That takes skill, man. And, you know, that's just what I always tell my friends: "You know I got your back like chiroprac."
N.B. I only have the radio-edit version. Which is total bullshit and something that I really have to remedy ASAP, but that means that's what you're getting, too. Apologies.
P.S. I can't say "Vote!" because the polls are probably closed. But keep your fingers crossed for tonight, bros. The anxiety is starting to set in.
11.03.2008
Come All You Good Time People
EXTRA-CREDIT READING MONDAYS!
So I’m pretty sure that nothing else in this blog will be about the Anthology of American Folk Music, but because it’s the first post and all, I thought we may as well start with some roots:
You’re probably wondering what the Anthology of American Folk Music is, and if you’re not wondering that, you’re probably wondering why you should give a shit about it. Well, it’s a collection of—SURPRISE!—American folk music recorded in the 1920s and 1930s. Harry Smith, ethnomusicologist, experimental filmmaker, and infamous bohemian compiled the 79-song Anthology. The three (or four—the rare disc of labor songs is sometimes seen, but not always) disc set was released in 1952 on the Smithsonian Folkaways label.
Not surprisingly, Bob Dylan and his folk revival compatriots got their hands on the Anthology, as they were want to do. Dylan apparently couldn’t get enough of it, and was heavily influenced by Dock Boggs and other twangers on the Anthology, as you can read all about in The Old Weird America, by Greil Marcus.
Anyway, my favorite track on the collection is “I Wish I Was a Mole in the Ground” recorded here by Bascom Lamar Lunsford. Lunsford has a few recordings of this song, but my favorite version is the one that appears on the Anthology, probably because I have such a huge soft spot for shitty recording technology (some of the other versions have been re-mastered) and Lunsford’s ineffably buoyant vocals.
In his analysis of the American folk revival, When We Were Good, Robert Cantwell embarks on a four page discussion of the song that concludes with the sentence, “Listen to ‘I Wish I Was A Mole in the Ground’ again and again, learn to play the banjo and sing it yourself over and over, study every printed version, squander your time in the bargain, and you still won’t fathom it.”
In the copy I checked out from the library, a previous reader drew brackets around that paragraph and wrote, “blah, blah.” Her reaction to Cantwell’s flowery prose is pretty understandable--“I Wish I Was A Mole in the Ground” is “just a folk song”; even Cantwell makes a point of saying that the song isn’t at all intellectual (Although he does make a point in saying that Lunsford was. He was a college-educated musician, 46 years old when he recorded this song, and had devoted a good part of his life before that to collecting and preserving American folk music).
What Cantwell is talking about, though, is the strange dyads that the song sets up: a mole versus a lizard, a woman that wants his money and the woman’s long hair, facing jail or the “railroad man.” Marcus calls the song “otherworldly” in The Old Weird America, and also talks about its “paranormal” qualities. Marcus, hydroelectric brainiac that he is, also points out that Lunsford performed at the White House in 1939, and also for King George VI. This was not marginal music.
But what makes this song and the rest of the Anthology so, well, sublime, is the way that it’s not an artifact of some past, mythical America, as Cantwell maybe wants us to believe. He discusses the way that the Anthology was sort of framed as this weird, avant-garde art when it was released in 1952 (This is because in 1952—and now, come to think of it—the sort of people who made the Anthology aren’t the people who were listening to it. Listeners were and are—heh—mostly college students and people interested in music history). But as much as these songs paint a picture of turn-of-the century America as a mythical place where talking animals and devils reign free, Lunsford just wants to be a mole in the ground. The Anthology isn’t avant-garde art, and it’s only History in the way that the Shins’ first album is History. It’s actually just pop music.
Some more Anthology traxxx:
Sugar Baby by Dock Boggs
Spike Driver Blues by Mississippi John Hurt
So I’m pretty sure that nothing else in this blog will be about the Anthology of American Folk Music, but because it’s the first post and all, I thought we may as well start with some roots:
You’re probably wondering what the Anthology of American Folk Music is, and if you’re not wondering that, you’re probably wondering why you should give a shit about it. Well, it’s a collection of—SURPRISE!—American folk music recorded in the 1920s and 1930s. Harry Smith, ethnomusicologist, experimental filmmaker, and infamous bohemian compiled the 79-song Anthology. The three (or four—the rare disc of labor songs is sometimes seen, but not always) disc set was released in 1952 on the Smithsonian Folkaways label.
Not surprisingly, Bob Dylan and his folk revival compatriots got their hands on the Anthology, as they were want to do. Dylan apparently couldn’t get enough of it, and was heavily influenced by Dock Boggs and other twangers on the Anthology, as you can read all about in The Old Weird America, by Greil Marcus.
Anyway, my favorite track on the collection is “I Wish I Was a Mole in the Ground” recorded here by Bascom Lamar Lunsford. Lunsford has a few recordings of this song, but my favorite version is the one that appears on the Anthology, probably because I have such a huge soft spot for shitty recording technology (some of the other versions have been re-mastered) and Lunsford’s ineffably buoyant vocals.
In his analysis of the American folk revival, When We Were Good, Robert Cantwell embarks on a four page discussion of the song that concludes with the sentence, “Listen to ‘I Wish I Was A Mole in the Ground’ again and again, learn to play the banjo and sing it yourself over and over, study every printed version, squander your time in the bargain, and you still won’t fathom it.”
In the copy I checked out from the library, a previous reader drew brackets around that paragraph and wrote, “blah, blah.” Her reaction to Cantwell’s flowery prose is pretty understandable--“I Wish I Was A Mole in the Ground” is “just a folk song”; even Cantwell makes a point of saying that the song isn’t at all intellectual (Although he does make a point in saying that Lunsford was. He was a college-educated musician, 46 years old when he recorded this song, and had devoted a good part of his life before that to collecting and preserving American folk music).
What Cantwell is talking about, though, is the strange dyads that the song sets up: a mole versus a lizard, a woman that wants his money and the woman’s long hair, facing jail or the “railroad man.” Marcus calls the song “otherworldly” in The Old Weird America, and also talks about its “paranormal” qualities. Marcus, hydroelectric brainiac that he is, also points out that Lunsford performed at the White House in 1939, and also for King George VI. This was not marginal music.
But what makes this song and the rest of the Anthology so, well, sublime, is the way that it’s not an artifact of some past, mythical America, as Cantwell maybe wants us to believe. He discusses the way that the Anthology was sort of framed as this weird, avant-garde art when it was released in 1952 (This is because in 1952—and now, come to think of it—the sort of people who made the Anthology aren’t the people who were listening to it. Listeners were and are—heh—mostly college students and people interested in music history). But as much as these songs paint a picture of turn-of-the century America as a mythical place where talking animals and devils reign free, Lunsford just wants to be a mole in the ground. The Anthology isn’t avant-garde art, and it’s only History in the way that the Shins’ first album is History. It’s actually just pop music.
Some more Anthology traxxx:
Sugar Baby by Dock Boggs
Spike Driver Blues by Mississippi John Hurt
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