History Lesson Part II

Music For the Hungry

[historylessonpt2]

Oh, You Pretty Things

@ChrisJohnGilson touched on this in his essay Let's Get Serious, but I wanted to really explore it…

Why is everyone so upset that Arcade Fire wants their concert attendees to dress up?

Who would’ve thought that one little request would inspire such absurd statements from the masses?

The outrage really falls into two categories:

People are lazy.

People love to be contrarian.

People are lazy: This is self-explanatory.  I have so many examples of concert, theater, and opera attendees who are wearing the same thing they’d wear to the grocery store.  If you’re spending a fair amount of money to attend a cultural event, put a little pep in your step!  Ladies – throw on a skirt or a nice pair of pants.  Leave the jeggings and sweatpants tucked into Uggs at home.  Guys – would it kill you to wear a pair of khakis and throw on a tie?  It really makes me want to vomit when I think about how many people I’ve seen wear jeans to the Metropolitan Opera.  Chris and I have been criticized on more than one occasion over the fact that we spend a lot of money on clothes.  I’ll let you in on a secret – we don’t.  Instead of buying a bunch of cheaply made clothes that we have to replace every few months, we invest in well-made pieces (typically from J. Crew) and wear them for years.  It doesn’t take a lot of effort, or money for that matter, to look presentable.  In a world where so much emphasis is placed on looks, why are so many people apathetic towards the way the look in public?  It’s laziness.  Because they don’t want to put that extra 10 minutes into their routine to iron a shirt.

Enough about people in general, let’s get back to the Arcade Fire.  The easiest way to qualify the request is this: Imagine you have a good friend.  The kind of friend that you’ve kept in close touch with throughout the years, and has shared a lot of important life moments with you.  This friend is celebrating a milestone birthday, and wants to have her birthday party at a pretty swanky restaurant.  This means you’d have to dress a little fancy.  You’ll probably have to spend some decent money.  Again, this is one of your closest friends who has probably sat through some pretty annoying events of yours.  Are you not going to go just because you have to put in a little extra effort?  Hell no!  You’re going to slap on that dress and those heels and march out the door with your happy face on because you’re getting to spend time with your friend.

This is exactly what it’s like with the Arcade Fire.  If you like the band as much as I do, you’re going to spend the money on your tickets, throw on some thrifted fancy shit, and enjoy the hell out of what is probably going to be an amazing show.  You may not want to put in the effort to get ready for “just a concert”, but why not?

This leads me to my next point.

People love to be contrarian:  There’s such an uproar over the Arcade Fire’s request, and most of it is coming from people WHO DON’T EVEN LIKE THE BAND! 

Although I’ve moved away, I still follow my favorite Chicago radio station on Facebook.  When tickets for Arcade Fire’s United Center show went on sale, 93XRT posted a status about the dress code request.  Out of the dozens of people who commented on it, only 6 (including myself) had anything positive to say.  Most people didn’t even comment about the request, but instead took the opportunity to complain about: 

How shitty they think the band is, ie “hipster garbage”, “pretentious”, “pompous a-holes” (that person went on to complain about how bad the band’s lyrics are…apparently he has never listened to the band), “why won’t XRT talk about better bands?” “terrible band, who even cares?” “nope”.

The venue.  “Oh it’s at the United Center? I’ll pass.” “The UC, another reason not to go” “They’re not good enough for an arena tour” (I suppose that also supports point #1).

Ticket prices.  I’ve been to so many concerts in the past year with Chris, that we’re starting to lose count.  To be honest, these ticket prices are on the lower end.  Someone said, “They can pay me $90 to dress up”.

My comment was this:

“It’s not like you’re going to get turned away for not dressing up.  Don’t like the band? Don’t go.  Find something else to bitch about.”

And I stand by it.  How absurd is it that someone has to take time out of their life to comment on a radio station’s post about a band with clear merit’s request that people dress up a bit for their show?  It’s like Chris said – LCD Soundsystem asked people to wear black or white to their last show at MSG.  Someone else pointed out that no one complained when Prince asked people to wear purple to his concerts.  You won’t be turned away if you don’t dress up.  It’s a request. 

My conclusion is just that people need a reason to complain.  These are the same people who are so excited about the new Mumford & Sons song that sounds like every other Mumford & Sons song.  Because their favorite, bullshit album isn’t being called “genius”, they’ll motherfuck a band who is still producing interesting material.  Everyone is miserable about something these days, but I’ll save that for another time.

When it comes to trivial things like this: If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.

I, for one, purchased two tickets to the Bridgeport, CT show.  Chris and I will be as dressed up as we can be.  I pity anyone who is missing out because they didn’t want to work a little harder than sweatpants.

[historylessonpt2]

The Rite to Riot

It’s Monday morning, and I’m lying in bed listening to Daydream Nation by Sonic Youth. And though I’m about halfway through the album, the idea that it would take “a teenage riot to get me out of bed right now” sounds about right.

For those unfamiliar with the music of Sonic Youth,it’s, well, noisy. It is loud, it is abrasive, filled with reverb and vinegar. But the strangest thing, as I’m listening to this record, I can’t help but think about how pop it sounds. It’s as if the past quarter century has normalized this record, or rather, I’ve grown accustomed to this brand of organized noises (because god knows that Sonic Youth is not a household name).

In the 25 years since this albums release, we’ve seen the evolution of genres from Minor Threat’s Hardcore to the Blood Brother’s Hardcore. From The Clash’s Punk to Green Day’s Punk. These evolutions produce something sometimes unrecognizable from the original as they get noisier and more chaotic or softer and more nuanced. At times these divergences can cause riots.

***

This year is the 100th anniversary of the premiere of Igor Stravinsky’s The Rite of Spring (Le Sacre du printemps). And as the story goes, when it premiered, it caused something close to a near-riot. And I feel like I might be repeating myself, but I can’t help but think how pop it sounds to my ears.

Filled with crescendos and cacophony, this piece has been lionized by it’s reputation as a riot starter. I could very well go on to explain The Rite of Spring to the uninitiated, but it’s better to just take a listen.

As you’ll hear in the half-hour it takes to listen to the full piece, Stravinsky takes you on a roller coaster of a ride. And what’s most awesome about this ride is the singular vision. I could be wrong, or misguided, but when I hear the Rites, I hear, I think, exactly what I was supposed to hear.

This may sound like a strange way to describe a piece of transcribed music, because if it is played as it is transcribed, then, well, I heard it as intended. But that’s not what I mean. There is a metaphysical sense to this song that is in line with the transcribed music.

I can give the example, borrowed from Slavoj Zizek, that Beethoven’s 9th has this ideology behind it that gives it a slipperiness in meaning. Zizek shows us in his “Pervert’s Guide to Ideology” that the 9th has been used by the German Nazis, the Chinese Maoists, and slews of other national identities that couldn’t be more disparate. It is a battle cry and a call for peace.

What it lacks is the singularity of chaos that the Rites has. What the chaos does is makes the viewer fail to grasp onto what makes it so brilliant, while constantly proclaiming it. This effect would go on to be a mark of modernism (from Finnegans Wake to Autumn Rhythm).

Though I can neither support nor claim that Stravinsky invented modernism, the Rites is a good show of just where the world was when it premiered. But it is also important to understand the works that it presaged.

***

Last night I saw a concert for Stravinsky called Rite Now! at Yale’s Woolsey Hall. What the project aimed to do was celebrate the Rites 100th anniversary, in what I think was a very special way.

A group of 8 composers wrote music to be combined into a pastiche that somewhat mimicked the original tableau style of the Rites. The performance started with a procession of musicians led by bagpipes that echoed the Rites opening bassoon line.

As all the musicians finally were seated, the music flooded in and grew louder, and I noticed something very strange. Just like in the original, the instruments seemed to swarm, but instead of insects, I thought sharks. With the intensity of the moment, I couldn’t but feel like Jaws would swim up at any moment.

And as the piece progressed, I heard other cinematic moments, but also a bossa-nova dance rhythm, and hints of rock and roll. It was finally when it was over that it dawned on me that many of the composers were my age, or at least only a little bit older.Many of their first experiences with Classical were the same as mine: Cinema!

There is no doubt that Stravinsky influenced modern classical music through the past 100 years, but what also happened over the last century was the advent of film, rock and roll, and dance music. And these in turn influenced classical.

What was brilliant about this original piece was the idea that while trying to honor Stravinsky, they instead honored the tradition of revolution. For many years people like Bernard Herrmann used the dissonance he learned from the Rites to inject his scores with an eerie tenacity that really transformed the movies he worked on. From him though, John Williams built a softer palate, and now, well, meh.

What the Rite Now Project shows is that Classical has the capacity to be interesting again, as their piece was. And even more so, that Classical exists outside of the movie screen, and that it can captivate an audience for as long as a movie can (both Rite Now and The Rites were just over 30 minutes with an intermission).

***

So back to Sonic Youth. What I like about Daydream Nation (other than the Gerhard Richter cover) is the fact that it’s so comforting these days. I remember when, a decade ago, it was noisy and chaotic to me. Now it’s like a warm blanket.

The Rite Now Project cured that temper in me last night, at least for Classical, and it was the inspiration for revisiting Daydream Nation. They were able to reintroduce the chaos back into The Rites, and they did so by stretching the mind in ways that it should not go. Pulling you from the vision of one composer to that of another, in a plethora of styles, all seamlessly glued together. Each composition had its own identity, and this did not detract from the overall piece.

When they next performed The Rites, the blanket had been pulled off and I was ready once again to hear the piece as it was, not how rote listening had contrived it to be.

Unfortunately, rock and roll has been a bore lately. And I have all these albums lying around waiting for someone to start a riot that might get me out of bed.

[danieljohnstonfilm]

official note to fans re: the movie

SEND TO EVVVVERRRRYYYOONNNEEEE YAAAYYYY

[historylessonpt2]

Apparently Daniel Johnston is making a short film. This is a cause for celebration. 

[historylessonpt2]

This is Robert Johnson. Some may know him as the master bluesman. Some may know him as the guy who sold his soul to the devil. Some as the founder of the 27 club. Most know him as the guy that does those songs by Eric Clapton. 

So who is Robert Johnson?

There are only 2 known photographs, 42 recordings of 29 songs, and one video clip that is definitely not him. 

This much we know, which is to say, we know nothing. Even more amazingly, I found out recently, that there is some debate over what he even sounds like.

Listen to the above track, and compare it to the track that has been included on every compilation of Johnson's since the original releases in the late 1930s. The difference is immediately audible. 

This brings up an interesting question about who Robert Johnson was: was he the faster Robert Johnson whose vocals were slightly cartoonish, but whose guitar playing was virtuosic, or was he the man whose singing and guitar playing were much more soulful?

Although the difference to most is minute, I'd like to argue that it really does make a difference in the way that we hear and appreciate his music. And this has to do specifically with authenticity. In a weird way, if that's not the way the songs were recorded, that's not really Robert Johnson who is singing them. 

And there are all sorts of reasons why this might be true. Certain songs have chord changes that are almost supernatural (They're Red Hot), while others seem to be on a guitar tuned to B, rather than the natural A.

In other cases, such as on "Sweet Home Chicago," we hear the lyrics more clearly slowed down. More specifically, in the last verse, for years we have heard "I'm going to California, from Des Moines, Iowa," but in many of the slowed down versions it becomes clear that he is really saying "From there to Des Moines, Iowa." This clarifies the line, but makes sense of the fact that the previous line sounded so fast. 

After the King of the Delta Blues collection, he became 60s cover fodder for the elite acts of the day. Dylan borrowed lyrics (Stones in My Passway, I believe), and the Stones did his songs. The covers ranged from the hyper fusion of Cream's "Crossroads" to the countrified "Love In Vain" from the Stone's Let It Bleed, and Johnson's songs were further transformed from the original sources. 

And time isn't getting us any closer to the answers. Some say that all the songs were sped up at the request of the record company, some say that only some were for time constraint issues. 

Whatever the truth is, Robert Johnson has been lost to time. He is more myth than man, his legend twisted and (if you believe the bits about the devil) evil. We don't even know what he truly sounded like. 

And that's a problem.

He is clearly one of our national assets. Though he may not have been the only blues player of the time, he rigidly defined bluesman for years to come. And through the remastering of his songs in the 80s and 90s, we now have them for generations to come. 

So who is Robert Johnson? 

I don't know if anybody knows for sure. 

[chrisjohngilson]

An Attempt At Exhausting a Place in New Haven

A movie based on George Perec’s An Attempt At Exhausting a Place in Paris.

Music Credits:

The Dave Brubeck Quartet; Unsquare Dance

Bill Evans; Some Other Time

Sidney Bechet; Indian Summer

Miles Davis; Blue in Green

Louis Armstrong; When You’re Smiling

The Dave Brubeck Quartet; Unsquare Dance

[historylessonpt2]

A movie I made, which is just a vehicle for 5 great musicians/songs, set to New Haven in Autumn. 

[historylessonpt2]

Interesting Fact of the Day: "Can't Hardly Wait" was originally about suicide before changing the lyrics for the album version on "Pleased to Meet Me." 

Although, the first verse might be construed as writing a suicide note with Westerbergian wit. The only thing that really sets it apart is the line "I'll be home where I'm sleeping." 

Unless it's the Big Sleep. 

Most people dwell on the fact that this version has Bob and the album version does not, but both versions are equally good. I happen to like the horns. 

[historylessonpt2]

DISCLAIMER: Watch the video with the sound off as it was intended.

Fuck. Lou Reed is dead. 

It would be no exaggeration to say that this man was one of my heroes. His life work affected me in such a way that when I first heard "The Velvet Underground & Nico," my life was changed forever. 

Everyone who loves Rock & Roll probably has an "& Nico" story. Everyone knows the banana. It is clearly one of the seminal albums in musical history. And whoever said it (It's still disputed if Eno ever said it), but whoever said it was right: "maybe only 30,000 people bought that record when it came out, but they all started bands." 

Because that is the influence that this band has. 

And the shocking thing was, like an Earthquake, the effects were almost immediate. Bands got more daring and dissonant. Alex Chilton tried his hand at "Femme Fatale," less than 10 years after the initial release (which may be the first VU cover?)

This Lou Reed put out "Transformer" too. That one has "Walk On the Wild Side." You know, the one where he talks about "giving head," but they still play it on the radio. 

He released "Metal Machine Music," mostly famous for not being what most people consider music. 

What the fuck else do you say about Lou Reed? What can you say that will not have been said a million times today?

In the wake of his death, Lou Reed will be remembered as a genius. And rightfully so. He will be remembered as the man who wrote "Heroin," and died from Liver Disease. 

He will be remembered strung out and thin. 

And old and wrinkled, standing next to Metallica, playing the weirdest fucking, well, whatever "Lulu" is. And Lou could get away with it.

How? 

Fuck you, that's how. 

He broke all the rules, while making the rule-makers look like the criminals. He set "The Raven" to music.

I am at a loss for any meaningful words that wouldn't be another summation of his career or just another personal story. 

So watch the video above. Sound off. (It's a shitty song anyway). 

Watch that video, and think of all the fucking happiness this man has imparted through his art.

Think of "Sunday Morning" and "Rock & Roll." 

Because you're sad and those things make you happy. 

I know, I'm sad too. 

[historylessonpt2]

Many things have been said about George Harrison's tenure as songwriter in the Beatles. Most of them good. Well known for his cuts on Abbey Road, some of his songs have gone under the radar. 

Experiencing a surge in popularity is "Long Long Long" from The Beatles, perhaps because of the fact that whole bands (who shall remain nameless) seem to have bit their entire style from this one track. 

It is a slow, unfurling track that opens itself up to you, possessing a spiritual quality of acceptance found in most of Harrison's early solo work (which was actually written around this time—You do know that the Beatles passed on "All Things Must Pass," right?). 

Haunting as it is, above for your perusal is the track slowed down 800% (Credit to user angelmusicification), to a pace just above a creeping halt, tending at times to sound a bit like Disintegration Loops. Even at times making you wonder if Harrison wrote this for god, or god gave this to Harrison (or most likely that he was god all along). 

I suggest you hit play while I get to my actual point. 

It was a week or so ago that I was listening to the Beatles hour on a local radio station, and the DJ announced this song using the phrase along the lines of "underrated masterpiece." And while I agree that it's placement on Disc 2 between "Helter Skelter" and "Revolution 1" was an odd choice (Or a dick move by two of the biggest assholes in music, they did pass on ATMP). The fact that it is an underrated masterpiece caught my attention. 

So I did what anybody would do. I wiki'd it. 

And shockingly, I saw the same phrase repeated by a Richie Unterberger, a source which I cannot seem to find from the link provided (I love you wikipedia, but you need to get your shit together). 

Now, maybe the DJ and this Unterberger are the same guy. Or, maybe, one had heard the other. (Or even possibly still, I am putting words in this DJs mouth). The point is, what is an Underrated Masterpiece? 

The presence of this connotation on a George Harrison song forces me to think about these two seemingly consonant concepts together (I swear the alliteration was unintentional). 

First, this song cannot possibly be underrated. It is a Beatles song. Written by George Harrison, sung by George Harrison. Apparently John isn't on it, but that doesn't matter. All that matters is that all Beatles songs are rated inestimably high. 

To paraphrase the all-knowing one: The Beatles are considered the greatest rock and roll band, and they are, which means they are perfectly rated. Neither underrated, nor overrated. 

But what does it mean that this song is underrated then? Is it not considered as classic as the bread to its peanut butter? 

That can't be true. It's a Beatles song. I've been thinking for well over a decade which the best Beatles song is (apart from favorite— my favorite Zeppelin song, all of Zeppelin II, the best song is undoubtedly "Stairway To Heaven") and I'm no closer to an answer than I was when I first listened to 1. 

As proof of the mastery and high standard of Beatles songs I give to you as example a). "Yellow Submarine." What an amazing shitty song, which had it been written by any other band would have been laughed at. It is absolutely ridiculous. And yet, without a shadow of doubt, it's one of the greatest songs ever written. Because it's a Beatles song. 

Far more contentious than to call a Beatles song underrated would be to say anything is a masterpiece. I won't get into the etymology of Masterpiece, but I'm guessing it has to do with a piece that is either a). masterful or b). done by a master. 

Most songs in the Beatles catalog will fit into category B. Even songs that were written by other writers (Kansas City, anyone?). But, as I've said before, all Beatles songs are perfectly rated as masterful. This gives an almost 100% Mastery rating to the entire Beatles catalogue (Maybe one or two B-sides aren't). 

After all this hemming and hawing, we are no closer at understanding what an Underrated Masterpiece is, nor why that title would fit any of the Beatles songs. 

Now, (15 or so paragraphs in), I will advocate the general understanding of the term. It goes something like: A piece, while not considered a Popular Classic, is deemed by those "in the know" to be the "true" classic, or if not usurping the other classics, it should at least be rated side by side with it. 

This, I believe, constitutes the general imagination of the concept of Underrated Masterpiece. In addition to "Long, Long, Long," there are whole albums (The Replacement's Pleased to Meet Me, which is derided for not being Let it Be or Tim) and whole bands (Eric Clapton and Steve Winwood's Blind Faith, which is neither Traffic nor Cream and released only one album with a picture of a naked prepubescent girl playing with an airplane on the cover—maybe the cards were stacked against them on this one),

but nevertheless, there is something about these things that forces a small constituency of fans to argue that they are somehow equal or superior to similar songs (bands, albums, etc...).

"Long, Long, Long" is touted as the quiet song that speaks volumes louder than it's noisier brethren. But what makes it better, or for that matter, worse than "Revolution 1" or "Helter Skelter?"

I don't believe there is any sane person on Earth that wants to get into that argument. Most people are "Mona Lisa" people, but I'm more of a "Virgin of the Rocks" kinda guy. Neither is the underrated masterpiece. They are both masterpieces rated especially high for being so. 

So what I'm advocating then is, we need to stop using banal language to describe our music. The Beatles are amazing, so lets find unique ways to describe how amazing they are. That includes stretching out the song 800% to find the inner beauty of the recording. 

Much like the term Guilty Pleasure, Underrated Masterpiece holds no meaning. It adds nothing to the value of the music. 

And anyway, "Long, Long, Long" was already a masterpiece, long before some dude tried putting a label on it. 

[historylessonpt2]

SO...

I suppose that I should begin by explaining myself (as if anyone should start by explaining themselves). I have decided, while sick in bed (maybe like Proust), that I should begin writing about music (not so much like Proust). 

Now, how many fucking people do that? I know, I know. I'm just one more asshole looking to spread his nonsense opinions to other assholes that need opinions to follow (pooping back and forth forever). 

So what makes my opinion so worthwhile? Well, for one, I can tell you that the force is so strong within me that I feel compelled at all times to tell just about anybody that stops moving for more than 2 seconds how I feel about something. I feel strongly about things. All things. 

But mostly, music. 

I would call myself an expert at listening to music. It is a skill I've honed. (And yes, you can be bad at listening to music.) I have 3 moments to blame for this. 

1). That one Christmas where my brother and I bought my Mother, my Father bought my Mother, and My mother bought my brother and I a copy of the Beatle's 1. Yes, we had 3 1s. I had the radio before, Classic Rock and such, but this fucking blew my mind. Yes, "Eight Days A Week" blew my mind. 

2). When my cousin heard me listening to "Smells Like Teen Spirit" on my discman and bragged that he could play it on guitar. It was just after Christmas so, I asked for one for my birthday in May. My parents were so excited (Dad especially) I had one by the end of January. (I still have that guitar, a red Squier Strat not pictured above). 

3). When the Rolling Stone "500 Greatest Albums" list came out, I bought most of the top 20 I thought would be cool. Imagine for a moment being 16, coming home one day to a package that contained Pet Sounds, London Calling, Highway 61 Revisited, Blonde on Blonde, Exile on Main Street, The Velvet Underground & Nico, and Kind of Blue.

Talk about desert island albums. You might strand yourself if you knew you had enough to survive, and enough power to keep the music playing. 

So, within the span of 3 years that all this took, I went from upstanding 13 year old honor student to the kid with sideburns that wore the Beatles shirt all the time. I even wore that shirt for my High School picture. 

Actually, even worse, for my senior yearbook picture, after taking a picture in a nice dress shirt, I told my mom I didn't feel right. Went and changed into my Dylan shirt (not that you can tell in the pic). I wanted it to go along with my quote: 

So long, honey babe,

Where I'm bound, I can't tell

Goodbye's too good a word, babe,

So I'll just say "fare thee well."

I ain't sayin' you treated me unkind,

You coulda done better, but, I don't mind,

You just kinda wasted my precious time, 

But don't think twice, it's alright. 

A nice fuck you to a lousy high school. 

But I digress... 

During High School, I organized and held concerts by local bands. In addition to hearing some really bad music (except one band, The Accused/Sunshine Units) from teenagers, we raised money for charity. Not that qualifies me for anything, it just means that I am a good person because good people donate to charity. 

In college, I was in the best worst cover band that didn't intend to be a cover band band. We thought we would write originals, but the best we got was an arrangement of Pachelbel's Canon in D, before that shitty youtube metal version. Ours was shitty, too, but still. Our name was Al & The Sharp-Tones. 

I was also the co-host of a radio show for a very brief time. Brief because working College Radio is simultaneously the best and worst thing (very much like the College Band). You get pretty much free reign to play whatever you want, but everybody else that works there confused the idea that having an opinion and being musically literate are two very different things. 

There was one guy that insisted I didn't play Dylan because he was too mainstream. Talk about deluded. 

They were all snobs, and I guess I'll try not to be a snob. 

I also will not have any set features like some websites do. Album Review Tuesday. Nostalgia Wednesday. Jerk Off Friday. You know— Cutesy shit like that. 

I will talk about music as it happens to me. Like for instance, yesterday I saw a free concert. My friend's band, The Streams, was opening up for local hero Mark Mulcahy. It was an excellent time. I had a few whiskey and ginger ales and heard great Power Pop. That's definitely something I might talk about. 

Or how, when I searched later for other bands from Connecticut, I noticed all we had claim to was some post-Hardcore, Ska, or random 70s pop rock bands (and despite the fact that I still call Weezer a CT band, they aren't really). 

In addition, I do realize that Azzerad already got to "History Lesson Pt II." and that Lester Bangs already got this style (and that I'm stealing Klosterman's asides). Because, as much as I love music, I love good writing, and I will be the Smithereens of music blogs, wearing my influences on my screen.  

So, for now, I will leave you with this: 

Mr. narrator, This is bob dylan to me, My story could be his songs, I'm his soldier child.