of Montreal's Kevin Barnes is not only a genius songwriter and totally hot, but also a savvy businessman.

Kevin Barnes from of Montreal, who happen to have recorded one of our favorite albums and played two of our favorite shows this year, wrote this piece for Stereogum back in November, in response to all the shit his band got for Outback Steakhouse and T-moblie's use of their music.  I once read an interview with him where he said, replying simply to a question about "selling out" to Outback, "it's very hard for artists to make money."  This essay, which is stunning it's brilliance and it's perspective, expands thoroughly and thoughtfully on that statement.  Everyone should read this.

mark.

Welcome John Holdren

So this is the guy Barack Obama tapped to be White House science advisor.  And this is an article he wrote for Scientific American in October.

This is good news.  Next best thing to "The Gore-acle"?

mark

Come

Thursday December 18, 2008

9:30PM

255 McKibbin #202

Brooklyn, NY

Re-emerging, and OFFICIAL endorsement.

So, we'll be back up and running with some posts on here in the next couple of weeks.  We'll be regular if you will.  Some exciting things--posts on the year in music, including our lists of favorites; same for movies; concert updates and reviews; some political whatnot if we get the bug; and also notices and accounts of some of the events in which we will be participating.  So stay tuned, and be vocal.

But first!

We are officially endorsing Barack Obama for President of the United States of America.  We've written about this singular candidate in these annals before, as an exemplary politician of the highest caliber.  In weighing the issues, we've found that his vision of leadership for this country is most in line with the direction we'd like to see it go.  It may be considered "bold" for us to endorse a one-term junior Senator, who happens to not be white, from one of the more "troubled" political machines in the U.S.  But we think he's got a certain something that would do a little good for the people of America.  And you gotta admit, if (a big if) this guy pulls it off, it might be kinda historic.  Therefore, he has our support.

Barack.  Obama.  Remember the name.  You'll probably be hearing a lot about this guy.

Economics

The economy, and economics in general: not my strong suit. My comprehension of the Wall Street catastrophe lies somewhere between shock/dismay and "uh, what now?" But one would have to be blind to not see that there is something desperately out of place in our economy. And I at least have to touch on this crisis here because it fits so well with one of the mantras of our li'l blog: No Model.

It is clear that economic model of today is broken. Imminent demise had been clear for months. The bubble had been pressurized since last year and everyone said it was only a matter of time. When the government officially intervened with Fannie/Freddie at the beginning of this month, it was the firing of the signal guns. And now this. Point is, we saw it coming. And, like so many others, the Economy is one arena where all bets are off. I can see (despite sickening debt, loss of so many jobs, and fiscal desperation) nothing but good coming of this. We are living in the most exciting time that has ever been, and we have the opportunity for complete and utter overhaul. I'll take the Al Gore approach and say that we are privileged to have the opportunity to reconsider everything. Tear it up and start again. Um, do it right. Or at least do it with the greatest of our consideration. It's to some extent a shame that we have to wait till things completely fall apart before we take notice. Sure, there wasn't much we could do to keep this from happening once the ball was set in motion. And it would be foolish to expect a logical working model when we have John McCain as the chairman of the Senate Commerce Committee. But those of us who care, those of us who are set to take over, should consider it a blessing to have the terribly disjointed models of the past razed to their foundations.

...

One more thing.

We have seen our presidential candidates react to the situation in such extremely different ways. McCain's gut reaction was to either stay calm or remain unaffected and make the unbelievable bogus claim that "the fundamentals of our economy are strong" (what!?). When called out for how ridiculous a statement like this is, he got angry! Well, he at least communicated his newfound populism with anger! Not quite sure he knows the difference between the two. He threw the word crisis into every phrase he could. He became Howard Beale, "I'm mad as hell, and I'm not going to take it anymore!" But the extent of his anger! went to calling for a "new 9/11 commission" (again, what!?) to assess the situation. Can we spell out-of-touch?

Obama, while not giving the most sound solution, did what he does best. He remained calm, confronted the situation head-on and laid out a clear, reasoned approach solving the problem. While McCain released ads blaming the Democrats and Got Populist on our asses, Obama released a two minute ad, one shot, sitting in a chair all presidential-like, and laying out, clearly if not superficially, what he sees to be the problems and how to tackle them. He then implored everyone to read his economic plan. McCain still doesn't have one of those.

The WALL STREET MASSACRE (as the Metro headline read) provided us with a clear example of how each of these candidates would govern. One was sensible and one made no sense. One was articulate and one was ridiculous. And yet, I still keep hearing these three words that send shivers down my spine: Statistical. Dead. Heat.

mark.

Why Do People Call Themselves Artists?

At a bar in Williamsburg, disturbed at a conversation happening next to me. So. I thought I'd take this moment to pose a question: Why would one person call themselves an artist? It's something that's made me sqeamish for a long time. I dunno...

Posted with LifeCast

No More!

The Palin v. Feminism debate is everywhere today. But I am now bowing out. No more for me. I feel I've no more breath about it. My biggest reason is a shift in focus. My energy and breath will be better used not talking about the bottom of the ticket I do not support, but advocating for the top of the one I do. The goal is to get Obama elected. So that's that.

Vote in the locals today!
mark.

Posted with LifeCast

Okay, Not!

So just found another article on feminism in the political arena in today's San Francisco Chronicle. "A Feminist Argument for McCain's VP" by self-described "pro-choice feminist" and FoxNews contributor (yep) Tammy Bruce, is essentially propaganda for the GOP to appeal to disaffected female Clinton supporters (after two weeks, they've realized it isn't working and need some media help) who should be totally in the bag for McCain because his VP pick shares their lady parts. I think I can speak for a lot of folks when I say "ARRRGGH!" So infuriating. Of the many ridiculous things she tries to pass off as intelligent decision-making, she says,

For Democrats, she offers...a chance to vote for a someone who is her own woman and who represents a party that, while we don't agree on all the issues at least respects women enough to take them seriously.

What a laugh! With this sentiment, and the countless obligatory references to the "glass ceiling", she tried to justify the candidacy of a woman who is either a) being used BECAUSE she is a woman or b) so self-interested that she ignores, or herself uses, feminism itself. ARRRGGH! Palin's own obligatory glass ceiling references, if empty, on the day her candidacy was announced tells me she's completely implicit. The simple fact that, prior to Palin's nomination, the two most visible women in the party were the wifeys Laura Bush and Cindy McCain should tell us just how seriously the GOP takes women.

Posted with LifeCast

Feminism And Not...

There's an article by Michelle Cottle on The New Republic's website today called "A Bad Year For Feminism". You should read it. So should everyone else. It's a beautifully articulated, passionate and thorough (damn funny, too) account of the political state of feminism and the steps backward we've taken in the past 8 months, from Hillary's demise to Palin's rise. Time keeps me from going in depth, but this passage pretty much sums it up.

Feminism seems no longer to denote a particular set of values or idealogical agenda; it is merely a label appropriated to proclaim that one is committed to the best interests if women--whatever one believes those to be.

There's a little scorn there, yes. And rightly so. Things are gross. Frank Rich touched on it this weekend in his Times op-ed. Listen to this.

We still don't know a lot about Palin except that she's better at delivering a speech than McCain and that she defends her own pregnant daughter's right to privacy even as she would have the government intrude to police the reproductive choices of all other women.

Yeah. All for now. Read that article, please. You'll be glad you did.
mark.



Posted with LifeCast

Notes On A Convention

Taking a break for a minute while canvassing the L.E.S. to vote in Tuesday's local Primary and I'd like to write a few things about the R.N.C. fiasco we witnessed last week.

It seems as though the Republicans are trying to run on a platform that Obama has been championing for months. Nay, years. HRC tried the same heist and to no avail. While McCain hounds Obama's lack of experience, he strangely and stupidly runs on the one platform he is unarguably less qualified to run on: change. Doesn't fly. This is not to be confused with, though it is linked to, McCain's "maverick" image. Which, to me, means he lacks a governing philosophy.

Also, it absolutely freaked me out how bonkers the Republicans went anytime the words "drill" or "oil" were uttered (or howled, as it were). Whenever Palin or McCain said, "let's drill it!" (which was a lot) the whole convention hall erupted. More so that when anyone said something snide or nasty about Obama or Biden (also a lot). And way more so than during McCain's sad and difficult attempt to rally the crowd with "fight! Fight with me!" It was as though the Republicans were oil fetishists, able to get their jollies publicly for four days. And that's gross. And by "it was as though..." I mean "it is a fact that..."

All for now. We're tropical stormin' here.
mark.

Posted with LifeCast

I Am Terrified Of Sarah Palin

See post title.

Posted with LifeCast

Back Inaction

Of all the things I could write about for my first post in three months--Hurricane Gustav and it's politicization by the GOP; Sarah Palin as John McCain's gross misconception of a vice presidential running mate, which will backfire on him as far as both white women and evagelicals, his two most neccessary and unloved demographics, are concerned; Obama's gutsiest, most intellectually complex (not to mention neccessary) speech yet; and my having seen Grizzly Bear and the Dirty Projectors in the span of a week--I'm going to write about dancing. More specifically, hipsterdancing. It's something I've mentioned before on this thing. I've also mentioned how ridiculous and frustrating it is. The following passage comes from an article in the most recent edition of AdBusters. Douglas Haddow has written a piece about how the hipster is the death knell for western culture. It's hard not agree with him on an emotional level, but the situation is immensely more complex than he allows it to be. But no matter what you think about the article, this observation is spot-on.

The dance floor at a hipster party looks like it should be surrounded by quotation marks. While punk, disco, and hip hop all had immersive, intimate and energetic dance styles that liberated the dancer from his/her mental states -be it the head-spinning b-boy or violent thrashings of a live punk show - the hipstet has more of a joke dance. A faux shuffle that mocks the very idea of dancing or, at it's best, illustrates a non-committal fear of expression typified in a weird twitch/ironic twist. The dancers are too self-aware to let themselves feel any form of liberation; they shuffle along, shrugging themselves into oblivion.

From where I've been, you'd be lucky to get the shuffle. It's frustrating and can actually have an effect on one's good time.

All for now.
mark.

Posted with LifeCast

Another David Byrne Post: "As if I didn't already wish I was him..."

Today David Byrne did this.













He turned a building into a musical instrument. Read more here. It's the Battery Maritime Building and you can see it from today thru the 10th of August at 10 South Street in NY.

Every white haired guy on a bike I see is David Byrne

Yesterday David Byrne did this.

Thats ostensibly a carpet made of pedals, into which he plugged a guitar and let it sit in the middle of the walkway at a benefit for The Kitchen. People would have to walk over the pedals to get from one part of the party to another. The noise would change with each step of each person. There must be an insane amount of range of sounds in there. There are loop pedals and delay pedals, to be sure, so the noise would be in constant flux, controlled not only by the feet at random, but by the sound itself. Byrne explains it here. I can only imagine what it sounds like. Maniac genius.

He also recorded some songs with the Dirty Projectors, which is a brilliant collaboration if I've ever heard of one. And I've heard of one. Will be incredible for sure.

mark.

Attention...

Performed our version of Macbeth in our space about two weeks ago. First show we've done there. I had a blast and the audience seemed to, as well. Thanks to everyone who came out and everyone who was in the show and everyone who put up with our work during the rehearsal process. I hope it was worth it. I think it was. We got a bit of a review Andy Horwitz who write the blog for the theater P.S. 122 downtown, which is a great space and has become a wonderful cultural insitution. He had some nice things to say. Here's the post in its entirety. I'd like to, for posterity, quote a passage from it.

...this production gave me hope for New York Theater.

I guess that's all I'll quote. Please read.



And our home was also grossly misinterpreted in an article in the New York Times this week (the front page, nonetheless). Read it here. It's pretty funny. Though some of the things the author smugly claims point towards the truth, I should say that there are good things about that are not touched on in the article.

Some notes on racism

Reading the "new" Kurt Vonnegut book, Armageddon In Retrospect, a collection of unpublished essays and speeches and letters, and came across this gem from his last written speech, scheduled for a year ago yesterday, April 27, 2007 (not delivered because he fell and hit his head and died):

The most spiritually splendid American phenomenon of my lifetime is how African-American citizens have maintained their dignity and self-respect, despite their having been treated by white Americans, both in and out of government, and simply because of their skin color, as though they were contemptible and loathsome, and even diseased.

I have always admired Vonnegut as a model citizen and held his political persuasions as beacons, and this statement is a great example of why. With this in mind, Obama's proximity to the presidency became again surprising to me. I am not surprised that America is seemingly now ready to let a black man lead the country, but that a black man would even want to be the leader of the country responsible for the things it has done. Not that that in any way gives him more claim to the presidency, but the weight of his desire should be acknowledged in context. As should Clinton's.

While we're on the topic, I feel I should point to this article by a guy named Tim Wise, a polemicist and anti-racist writer. It's about the Reverend Wright "controversy" and why he thinks it's unfortunate bullshit. It violently claims that Rev. Wright was mostly correct in saying the things for which he was condemned. And he blames white people's addiction to lies and historical misinformation for their inability to see the truth in what Wright said. It's worth a read, though it is a little vitriolic for my tastes and at times too general. He also neglects an awful culprit in the mess, the media. But this bit is worth pointing to:

So what can we say about a nation that values lies more than it loves truth? A place where adherence to sincerely believed and internalized fictions allows one to rise to the highest offices in the land and to earn the respect of millions, while a willingness to challenge those fictions and offer a more accurate counter-narrative earns one nothing but contempt, derision, indeed outright hatred? What we can say is that such a place is signing its own death warrant. What we can say is that such a place is missing the only and last opportunity it may ever have to make things right, to live up to its professed ideals. What we can say is that such a place can never move forward, because we have yet to fully address and come to terms with that which lay behind.

Is it just me or does it feel like somethings gotta give sooner or later? The Rev. Wright hullabaloo is certainly far from receding (even today he gave a speech wherein he said that his comments were taken out of context in a damaging way. That speech, incidentally, was taken out of context on every news program I watched and in almost every article I read). And Bill Clinton can't seem to stop whatever it is he thinks he's doing. These are just a couple of instances that make me think this election campaign is going to be more arduous on the American people at large than we think it will be. At least more so than it has been so far. And probably more so than we are ready for.

mark.

from the ashes...

Not even sure I'll remember how to do this. It's been a while and we will hopefully not have such an extended lapse in communication, much to the delight of our many readers, I am sure. We took an unintentional hiatus to pursue our own personal endeavors, including making music, a play and money (the latter of those three things not being related to this first two, of course. This is New York, after all).

But some exciting things happened while we were away from our computer screens. And while we'll do our best to recount some of those things that were particularly wonderful, our focus is still onward and upward to the future. That means tomorrow, which is a big deal, indeed. Tomorrow three records we're very excited about will be released. The buzz so far and the tracks we've heard tell us that our excitement is not mislead. And a strange thing is that they all have very self-referential titles. They are: Portishead's Third, The Roots' Rising Down, and Jamie Lidell's Jim.

Hopefully, we'll give you an update when we get back from Sound Fix tomorrow morning.

That's all for now. Here's something great that happened while we were away that we all can't seem to get enough of, still:



Great.
mark.

Los Campesinos! HOLD ON NOW, YOUNGSTER by kevin

Since I first discovered Los Campesinos! when they were (mercifully) overpowering Amy Winehouse’s set at Lollapalooza last year, I’ve spent the past 6 months having sadly abbreviated one man dance parties to their debut EP Sticking Fingers Into Sockets. Impressively, even at a mere 5 songs long, the Welsh septet’s catchy hooks and songwriterly lyrics have kept me fully engrossed even after a gluttonous amount repeated listenings. I’ve trolled their MySpace listening unreleased tracks, begging for a U.S. tour, and counting the days until the release of their full length album Hold On Now Youngster. This waiting game is nothing new to me, and invariably the result has been eventual bitter disappointment. So many times have my fragile rock and roll dreams been shattered, I was scared the first time I pressed play. I needn’t have been. The self appointed “Second most punk rock band in Britain” delivers here 12 of the most eclectic, introspective, and downright danceable songs in recent memory.

The disc opens on a rocking note with the young group’s signature song “Death to Los Campesinos!” This infectious, upbeat number sets a nerdy tone early, peppered with daydreams about robots. While imagery like “ctrl-alt-deleting your face” may seem too clever by half, that tends to be just how I like my punk rock lyrics. As the album progresses, the prevalent themes become quite obvious: the traditional rock and roll standbys of love and loss, intimacy and alienation. One could reasonably guess this just from a glance at the track listing, with song titles like “Broken Heartbeats Sound Like Breakbeats” and “This is How We Spell HAHAHA We Destroyed The Hopes and Dreams of a Generation of Faux Romantics.” Bonus points for actually incorporating the verbiage of these titles into the lyrics of the songs (unlike a certain once-prolific Indie Rock superstar I could mention).

What separates Los Camesinos! angsty stories of the heart from every other group of whiny emo punk-rock kids is the depth and complexity of their lyrics. Lead singer Gareth pours his soul into the microphone on every song, alternately delivering pithy insights (“when the smaller picture/is the same as the bigger picture/you know that you’re fucked.”) and taking us down long and rambling roads such as this gem from “We Are All Accelerated Readers”:

“I’m not Bonne Tyler/And I’m not Toni Braxton/And this song is not going to save your relationship/I’m not shitting/This sentimental movie marathon has taught us one thing/its that the oppostite of true love is as follows:/reality.”

The eclectic music pairs perfectly with the lyrics; Keyboardist Aleksandra’s supporting vocals provide a perfect complement to Gareth, and many numbers incorporate even more voices, creating a choral feel akin to The Polyphonic Spree. The instrumentation is similarly lush, with horns, violins, and even a glockenspiel lending fullness and variety to the melodies. And unlike so many other pop groups, the music actually serves to help tell the story. The wonderful “…And We Exhale and Roll Our Eyes in Unison”, opens loud and raucously, detailing an argument between a couple (“It's bad enough you ever use the word as an adjective/
But to suggest we do it in heels is really quite crass”). Over a mere two minutes the song deftly downshifts, leaving us on a quiet and elegiac note (“And woe is me/and woe is you/and woe is us/together.”)

The great strength of Hold On Now Youngster is how perfectly Los Campesnios! fuse these sorts of pining, inward lyrics with such irresistibly danceable music. Anybody who can’t get down to “Don’t Tell Me to Do the Math(s)” or the aptly titled “You! Me! Dancing!” must be a very unhappy individual indeed. The second most punk rock band in Britain has come to the U.S. And they’ve brought with them one of the most purely entertaining albums in recent memory, and easily one of the best albums of the year.

mediumkev@gmail.com

Dirty Projectors @ Music Hall of Williamsburg 4/9...

was best show I've seen in New York City.

more later.
mark.

Obama's speech

This may seem a bit behind schedule but I didn't want to jump on it. Felt like I needed to give it room to breathe. At any rate, Barack Obama gave one of the most important speeches on race, in recent memory. While I watched the speech (at work, yes) I kept reflecting on how I've never, in my lifetime I mean, seen a leader speak to people like that. Jon Stewart said something to the effect of, "and on a Tuesday morning in March, a candidate for the Democratic presidential nomination spoke to the American people like they were adults." It was the most honest, reasoned, reserved but at the same time passionate and real account of racism in America I've ever seen from a public figure, let alone a politician. He spoke with a candor that is rare (or nonexistent), not only in American political discourse, but in our culture, as well. I do not want to pick out certain passages that I thought were particularly revealing or that I "liked" because it is not something, I think, that can be taken in bits. It should be processed wholly. However, I will point to this simple introductory section:

Race is an issue that I believe this nation cannot afford to ignore right now...The fact is that the comments that have been made and the issues that have surfaced over the last few weeks reflect the complexities of race in this country that we’ve never really worked through – a part of our union that we have yet to perfect. And if we walk away now, if we simply retreat into our respective corners, we will never be able to come together and solve challenges like health care, or education, or the need to find good jobs for every American.

This is a seemingly simple statement. But within it is the challenge that Obama is consistently putting in front of us. For someone in quest of the highest office in this country, and lacking the support of a particular and important contingency of voters (white males), to make this statement, not to mention the entire speech, is bold.

To be so bold as to come out and say black anger is real, white resentment is real, and call on us to move forward is something some argue is politically stupid. I say it is essential in a leader.

Melissa Harris-Lacewell, of The Root, had this to say:

I think what mattered most to me is that Barack made the implicit and radical argument that black people are human. Of course, we already know that we are fully human: good, bad, hopeful, angry, brilliant, stupid, capable, pitiful, loving, hateful, all of it. But we rarely see a member of our government so beautifully articulate our humanity.

He also spoke to us all, of all races, like we were human. Like we were, as Jon Stewart said, adults. He spoke not down to us, but as if we were capable of understanding a nuanced argument about an incomprehensibly huge subject.


Marc Lamont Hill, also of the The Root and avidly a non-supporter of Obama (he's for Nader), said this:

Instead of merely assuaging white racial anxieties, Obama’s words forced the entire nation to come to terms with its demons. Although he unequivocally denounced Jeremiah Wright’s remarks, Obama refused to reduce him (or his own white grandmother) to a racist caricature. Also, through his evenhanded analysis of both structural inequality and individual responsibility, Obama raised the stakes for racial discourse in American politics.

Matt Bai, in his study of racial integration in the Democratic party for the New York Times political blog , wrote:

A lot of top Democrats have for months expressed their fears that Mr. Obama would lose handily in November if he were the nominee, and the implication in this is that he is too much the candidate of black voters. What was remarkable about Mr. Obama’s speech, though, was the way that this black son of a white mother took issue with the notion that America, outside of Washington, remains defined by its racial bias. He didn’t suggest that somehow he alone had the ability to break down old racial barriers, but rather that those barriers have already begun to tumble and that the political establishment just hasn’t caught up. Indeed, his central criticism of Mr. Wright was not that he was too outspoken or too enraged at white Americans, but that he was too rooted in the past — that he lacked “a belief that society can change.”

The same might be said of the Democratic Party itself. And this is why the success of Mr. Obama’s argument has serious implications not just for his candidacy, but also for a party that has too often feared the worst about white America. If you’re a Democrat and a pessimist about the basic nature of the American voter, you might reject what Mr. Obama is saying as just more wishful rhetoric, a call for the kind of racial unity that has never been visited upon the country. If you’re more of an idealist, though, you might see in his vision the possibility of a country less obsessed than its aging leaders with racial division—and of a party that might one day be led by those who have for so long sustained it.

Barack Obama never once suggested that he was the one who could heal our racist wounds. He puts it on us. Obama is criticized for not being specific enough in laying clear his policies of "change" (this speech was criticized in much the same way). On top of this being for the most part untrue, I find it ridiculous for another reason. He is not, and will never claim to be, a savior to pull us out of the muck. He knows change can never come from one person. So he puts it on us, the people.

I have already said this on this blog, so I'll refrain from going further, except to say this: If Barack does not get the nomination, and years from now, when this speech ("which may be dissected in grade-school classrooms and graduate seminars for many years to come," as Matt Bai writes earlier in his piece) is put into historical context, people will be dumbfounded that we denied this man the chance to be our leader.

As I said, the speech should be heard or read in its entirety. If you haven't seen, heard or read it, I urge you to.

"A More Perfect Union"

There was one feeling, on top of the countless others that came up throughout the speech, that lingered, even as I read response after response after response (which came at an alarming rate). It was, as my buddy Ron put it, Finally.

mark.

Gnarls Barkley is Good!

Continuing the trend of great bands working against the contemporary model and status quo of record releases, Gnarls Barkley took it upon themselves to release their new album, The Odd Couple, without prompt on March 18 instead of its original release date April 8. Never the ones to let themselves be confined in any way, and always working to keep us on our toes, Cee-Lo and Danger Mouse (who ?uestlove calls "the last great living and WORKING soul singer under 40 and the most creative and intuitive producer maniac music has seen in a sec," respectively) have dropped 13 body-rockin', mind-bogglin', psycho-soul tracks into our laps while we were all preoccupied with Barack Obama and race or whatever (more on the later). I'm personally elated about the decision as I was getting antsy having to wait so long. I'm listening to it right now and can say that it would've been worth the wait. At first glance, it seems to have all the emotional energy and intensity of St. Elsewhere and maybe even a harder edge. That's already been made clear from the first two singles from the album, Run and Who's Gonna Save My Soul.

So now they're not only genre-bending but music-industry-rule-breaking. They're signed to indepedent label Downtown (which also includes Mos Def, Justice, and Art Brut among others). Way to go Downtown. Artist control!

About that last little rant...

Just found this, which speaks to all that stuff I was writing about a few minutes ago but in a much more logical, less emotional way, and points to Clinton's desperation as the reason for her being awful.

And, regarding all this, it doesn't matter, anyway. Obama winning is the only logical outcome.

That's all on that. I don't want this thing to go in that direction.
mark.

American Phoenix

I posted a link last week to an article called American Adam, which ran in The New Republic. It is about Barack Obama and, what it argues as, his quest to help America break from its past. This is a response to that article from The American Prospect online that argues that what Obama is really doing is urging not a new beginning completely, but forging a new future from what has come before. It dispels the claims that Obama's message is easy, sugary hopefulness, which are dumb to begin with. But this article does it in a way that brings to light that what Obama is doing is actually a challenge to the American people.

He is preaching an inclusive civic nationalism—an American ideology with deep roots in post-Civil War America onward—and juxtaposing it to a discredited ethnic or racial nationalism that sees blood and race and the entitlement they bring as constitutive of national creed.

Its a quick and interesting read and one of the countless pieces focusing on Obama's importance as a historic American figure. He is certainly more so than any one I've seen in my time as a conscious American.

...

And while America's greatest intellectuals and political thinkers are writing about Barack Obama at a fervent rate, Ms. Clinton is proving to me to be a disgusting political player. I've tried and tried to keep her in good favors because of this or that, like we just need a Democrat in the White House blah blah blah or that she really has done some good for the country blah blah blah, but she just keeps sinking lower and lower, like extending a suggestion to Obama that he consider a Vice Presidency (even though he is the front runner, not to mention it is mathematically impossible for her to come out ahead of him in pledged delegates), leaving the doors open on the outlandish claim that Obama is a Musilm, and even intimating that McCain would make a better President. She is sabotaging this and it makes me sick. It is damaging to everyone. Except John McCain.

Excuse me.
mark.

Oh, my...

Goodness.

Checkpoint: March (Heavy Rotation)

A brief word on what we're digging into right now. Seems like a transitional and kinda weird time for all. The weather's changing, daylight savings is coming (losing an hour when sleeping patterns are already fucked up to begin with), and a protracted campaign is wearing on us all. How are we getting through it?

Mark-

1) Beach House, Devotion - Deceptive album. I put it on to be washed away and end up more wide awake and freaked out.

2) Bon Iver, For Emma, Forever Ago - Stunning album. Beautiful voice and songwriting. And so unsettled, as the times go.

3) Cat Power, Jukebox - Huge blues without wailing in my face. Possibly my favorite Cat Power release ever. "Metal Heart" yeah! I want my dad to listen to this.

4) My Morning Jacket, Z - I'm just coming to this one and it's immensely enjoyable. It makes me rock out on the subway.

5) The last three tracks on Vampire Weekend's Vampire Weekend - The whole album is fun but these songs work really well and I don't really need the rest. I'm not tweaked out over these guys but I like Paul Simon and its nice to have something that's just a lot of fun to listen to. As an aside, "M79" is the most conscious attempt to get oneself onto a Wes Anderson soundtrack I've ever witnessed.

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Seth -

1) Samamidon, All is Well - Gorgeous detailed arrangements giving old folk classics room to breathe and find new life. Amidon's voice is perfectly suited for these dark tales of heartbreak.

2) Brian Wilson Presents SMiLE/SMiLE Bootleg (Sea of Tunes)/Smiling Pets - A Tribute to the Beach Boys: Brian Wilson obsession? Comparing original recordings with the 2004 release and again with other experimental artist's interpretations of the work is nerdy, yes, but also incredibly informative as to what makes these magical compositions tick.

3) Bob Dylan, The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan - Winter melting away always brings this album out. How does it still reveal new depths?

4) Brian Eno, Here Come The Warm Jets - I have been currently obsessed with how Eno uses oddly abstracted but incredibly specific (and often hilarious) lyrics to highlight his dense musical landscapes.

5) Atlas Sound, Let The Blind Lead Those Who Can See But Cannot Feel - Sounds worlds away from Deerhunter hype of last year, Cox uses his love of Eno and other ambient artists to craft his own beautiful and mournful world.

"The country does not give back what its history promised..."

More Griel Marcus mind-boggle. The following passages are ones that I found in the chapter (the first chapter, no less) wherein Marcus meshes together analyses of two American novel trilogies, John Dos Passos U.S.A. trilogy and Philip Roth's American Pastoral, I Married a Communist, and The Human Stain as well works and lives of Herman Melville, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Sinclair Lewis and many others, all the while harkening back to speeches by Abraham Lincoln, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., Thomas Jefferson and many others, connecting them all to numerous references in culture (pop and otherwise) to come up with a blindingly real impression of American identity.

This-

The country charges its citizens with the mission to create themselves, just as the republic was created--but if each American carries the republic within himself or herself, then each American can become a lost republic. "This country is frightening": part of what is frightening is the apprehension that the republic itself can vanish in an instant, leaving each American unknown to every other, with nothing in common, in a state of nature, "a war of all against all," where the mob can come for anyone at any time. Jefferson opens a continent; it is filled up with great cities bursting with speeches and commerce. Blink your eyes and it is filled up with the zombie cities of Invasion of the Body Snatchers...with the citizens bent on the destruction of liberty even as an idea.

I love his language here. Its a challenge. Accountability, self-discovery, good will toward man--all of that. And more. It's like he's scaring us into it. Marcus is a smart man--is that what it's come to?

And this-

...the U.S.A. is a place and an idea and a speech of the people that always maintains its power to surprise and shock anyone who thinks he or she has seen it for what it is, because...American identity cannot be taken away any more than it can be granted. It is found discovered, made up, a declaration that each must make.

This, at once, gets to what it is great and awful about America--a fist in the air to the confusion and frustration and a charge to those of us who claim America has no identity of its own to dig a little deeper, into the country and into ourselves. This also puts us on the same playing field as our "founding fathers," for what do they got that we ain't got? We're just as American as they are, no older no newer, because we are constantly reinvented. Each day a declaration of independence. And here is why--

In a country based on an idea, made up, not merely the Declaration of Independence promulgated and the Constitution adopted but that nation promulgated and adopted, you don't [ever really] know. As captured in a few of Lincoln's words even more than in its founding documents, America is an idea--an idea that mapped the landscape and shaped the people in it, or failed to.

We need this right now. We will decide where to take our country in the next few months. And though I used to think that voting was the most important thing because it was all we had, I am realizing that we have way more. And it starts with US.

mark.

Happy Ultra Duper Duper Tuesday!

Well it seems as though we have another one of those days where the race for the Democratic nominee for President is supposed to be decided. Hooray!

In Super Tuesday fashion, I've compiled some of my favorite political writing from the past couple of weeks for your reading pleasure if you're interested or really, really bored.

First, we'll start with Ben Smith's blog at Politico. It's a nice, well-reasoned, non-partial (as far as I can tell) account of the campaign. He'll probably be live-blogging during the primaries today. Won't that be fun?

Also at Politico, this article by Roger Simon on Clinton's two-step tactics, which sometimes smack of Bush/Rove and make me a little sick. It gives the sense that either campaign could fall apart at any moment.

A couple things from The New Republic:
John B. Judis, who is unsympathetic to Obama, wrote an article called American Adam, which paints him as a harbinger of American rebirth, something I touched on yesterday.
And this piece called Race Man, making a pretty unsubstantiated attempt to accuse Obama of reverse race-baiting during his campaign.

And this brilliant op-ed with a great title from my personal favorite political commentator Frank Rich of the NYT. If you read nothing else today, please read this.

Finally, a piece that came out today from David Brooks, also of the NYT, who doesn't seem to care for Clinton or Obama, about the night Obama pulled the rug out from under Clinton and the conventional wisdom of the entire Democratic Party. And, just for fun, let's link that speech at the Jefferson Jackson Dinner.

Okay, that ought to keep us busy for a while. Hope your super-mega-ultra-make-or-break-or-do-or-die day is fine (it's going to spring rain in New York!) and to all our friends in Texas, Ohio, Rhode Island and Vermont (because we have tons of friends in Texas, Ohio, Rhode Island and Vermont) please remember to exercise your right to tell someone you think they're better than someone else.

Word up.
mark.

St. Vincent at Bowery Ballroom (2/29)

I had no idea she was so punk rock.

Annie Clark played Bowery (her "favorite venue in the whole world" or some trumped up claim like that) on Friday. I liked it quite a bit, but my expectations were completely flipped. I came away with much more respect for her as a musician and her album, and I found out that she is someone I wouldn't really like to hang out with.

I mean she's stupidly cute for god's sake. I'd think that "cute" is, then, the last thing she'd need to go for. But when she chats up the crowd, it's what she's doing. Like her completely inane story about some truck stop in Montana and taxidermy and a pony (which did provide one funny anecdote, "I don't know if any of you have ever left New York city ever, but...") all to get to the point of playing a solo cover of The Beatles "Dig A Pony," which turned out to be a highlight of the evening. "Why, oh, why," I wondered, "with the lame convo, Annie?" I attribute it to her being a hell of a lot better at expressing herself through song than chit-chat.

I was floored at times by how much rocking was going on. Her band was balls out--that fiddle player, shredding horse hair all over the Bowery stage. The drummer had a penchant for overindulgence, going a little overboard when it wasn't necessary ("drumboree" I like to call it). But I'll take that over being all reserved. The crowd didn't seem to dig it too much. They started to bounce (not literally--I mean leave--this is New York after all, the land where no one dances) about 2/3 of the way through the show (it was way cold in there, too, something that can possibly be attributed to lack of performance energy coming from the stage, or the disinterest teeming from the audience, or both).

She's a helluva guitar player--very precise and rhythmic with a crunchy tone. Her sporadic flitting in triplets, which causes her hair to balloon up over her face, makes her guitar cough and hack. It's quite jarring and a lot of fun. She's a really tense player, which has an effect on her voice (which isn't amazing to begin with--peculiar but not sound).

There was an overall explosion of the songs on Marry Me (a standout record of last year, to be sure)--a surefire arena-rock ending to "Now, Now", a Sonic Youthesque grind to "Your Lips Are Red". "Paris Is Burning" was perhaps the most exploded--a slow dirge to begin and ended with a celebratory storming of the Bastille. The songs were wild and at times out of control. She seemed much more at home, much more honest when enveloped in these explosions she created than when confronted with an audience.

I think her cuteness persona is what deceived the Bowery crowd. They came expecting something whitebread, something lukewarm, something Feist-y and got something colder, rawer and more rock and roll than they bargained for. I'm cool with that, its at least an interesting method of deception. But I'd ask Ms. Clark to kindly not do that next time. Just be real with us.

mark.

(Photo St. Vincent @ Bowery Ballroom NYC courtesy of Amy Wagner)

Happy March...

Spring is certainly all up in the air. Its nice to be outside again, the sun is shining, and maybe--just maybe--people will start to be a little nicer, and it won't be s'damn cold in my apartment in the morning.

I found this last night reading Griel Marcus' The Shape Of Things To Come. Its an intense and difficult (read challenging, strangling) book about, essentially, America's constant cycle of betraying itself and the promises it was founded on (and that it keeps making). He looks a lot at how American artists, politicians and public figures (David Lynch, John Dos Passos, Abraham Lincoln, Martin Luther King Jr. to name a few) prophecy this betrayal. It is an eye-opening and frightening read to delve into while we are in the throes of trying to reinvent ourselves as a nation (yet again), coming off the heals of a fierce betrayal heading potentially into another.

For spring time--for election year:

The pursuit of happiness is a national drama played out before an imaginary audience, an audience that includes all Americans, living and dead. As an actor, one seeks oneself; one also seeks to fulfill the aspirations of all those less brave, knowing that to fail one's own quest means the betrayal of everybody else.

Coming upon this during a particularly difficult night, it ruined me.

Happy March.
March on...
Mark.

Rufus at Radio City (2/14) and "Blackout Sabbath"

Had the immense pleasure of seeing Rufus Wainwright at Radio City Music Hall on Valentine's Day last week. It was my third time seeing him and I will certainly take every opportunity I can in the future. The first time was in the spring of 2001 in Detroit, a few weeks before Poses came out. The second was in New Orleans a few weeks after Katrina. All three were vastly different shows. The first was with a small band (including his pre-fame sister, Martha). Though Rufus was visibly fucked up for the whole show, that band was spot on, with some of the most pristine harmonies I've ever experienced. The second show was just him and a piano (or a guitar). Want Two had been out for a couple years (and Rufus had been clean) and Release the Stars was a thought on the horizon. I will never forget what the first notes he sang in the first song he played, "The Art Teacher," did--gripping, wrenching. He has the most penetrating voice.

If the first show was an artist at his creative peak (and most self-destructive--makes one wonder how connected the two are), and the second a chance to see his virtuosity as a singer/songwriter, the Radio City show was a full-on demonstration of celebrity. It had all the accoutrement of a big budget stage show--flashy lights, costume changes (!!!), even pyrotechnics (I have to admit that I didn't catch the pyro because I had to go to the bathroom and I took the opportunity to do so during "Slideshow" because that song is dreadful). His between-song-banter seems very self-congratulatory and puffed-up, but in an ironic, self-conscious way (also, he is ridiculously funny). His fame allows him to take more risks, though, as demonstrated in his singing to the auditorium with no microphone on the Irish traditional "Macoushla." The overblown spectacle and kitsch of co-finale "Get Happy" (decked to the nines in miniskirt, high heels and fishnets, and his band as dancers in Nun's habits--delightful) was positively decadent.

While I think his songwriting has seriously suffered in recent years--admittedly, Release The Stars still takes me over, though about half of it is boooor-ring--he is still incomparable. And, as evidenced last week, he is an incredible performer. Although, I maintain that he needs female back-up singers. His band on this last tour was all boys, who were great musicians but sub-par singers. Some of those female parts (most of which are Martha's--see "Poses," see "14th Street") are essential to Rufus' songs. Even at the solo show in NOLA he asked for help with the back-up part on "April Fool's" and, though most of the audience was timid, there was one lone voice from the back of the auditorium that made that song soar. Martha was even there at the NYC show--she and their mother, Kate, joined the band for a few songs, including Across the Universe with Sean Lennon--but just let those incredible harmony parts go unsung, or at best sung unsuccessfully.

Wow. Didn't actually mean to write that much about the show. Really wanted to write about Blackout Sabbath, which he announced at the show. Its a voluntary blackout of Manhattan on the summer solstice--a time to ponder what we can all do for the environment. Its a really lovely thing that, like all things Rufus, has a nice layer of cheeseball to it. Anyway, I'm advocating it. Check it out. He's also playing an unamplified, candlelit concert at the Angel Orensanz Foundation on the Lower East Side. Can't go because of rehearsal but I'm looking forward to the YouTube clips.


One last thing. It's really nice seeing concerts in New York and hearing the artists say, "its nice to be home." This happened the night before at the Yeasayer concert, too. Not sure what it is--warmth, comfort maybe. It reassures me that they mean it, perhaps. It's nice.

Yeasayer at Bowery Ballroom (2/13)

As one of the final shows of their co-headlining tour with MGMT, Yeasayer played a sold-out show at Bowery Ballroom on Wednesday. Since its a co-headlined tour, the bands trade nights as closers. Tonight they played first. Would have liked to have seen their show at Music Hall of Williamsburg on Thursday but was at another Music Hall (Radio City) instead seeing Rufus Wainwright (more on that later). Its a blessing and a curse of the city. I think the Bowery show was a little heavy on the MGMT supporters and expect the inverse of the Music Hall show. Whatever the case, Yeasayer was amazing.

It was my first time seeing them and they were much darker than I expected, a little more upset, unsettled, more aggressive. They have been touring pretty gruelingly for a month (not a great feat for more experienced bands but difficult I'm sure as a first time) and they were visibly worn. Lead singer Chris Keating spoke unfavorablly about the experience. "There's a lot of country out there. And it isn't pretty. Some of it's pretty. But a lot of it isn't pretty." This exhaustion, with, perhaps, an excitement to be back on home turf, had a marked influence on the songs.

The beats were meatier, the builds a little more impatient. Keating had to work harder to get the sound out, inviting the veins. He is more interesting when not tied to the keyboard/noise table, convulsing around, bending and contorting, giving the words and notes a body. This was evident during one of the highlights of the show, an amped-up and more urgent version of "Final Path," a demo song not on the album.

The All Hours Cymbals songs were harsher, more urgent, too. They were lacking in the optimism that is a driving force of the album. Were it not for the lyrics, one would think the band feels we're going down a path of sure destruction. Their final song of the set, "Wait For The Wintertime," I was certain couldn't get any heavier than the album has it. Clearly they found more ferocity in the blizzard of that song. As Keating sang,"that's the price you pay for the summertime," it became clear that it may be more difficult to be optimistic than All Hours Cymbals thinks.

Thankfully, for us at least, that difficulty forces them to dig so far into the beats and rhythms of "Sunrise" and "2080" that, if nothing else, we can dance. And the songs were held together taut by Ira Wolf Tuton flowing effortlessly on the fretless bass and Anand Wilder's Middle East-influenced meandering guitar riffs and those massive harmonies. The band may be taking from several sources, but it is never for personal gain. They are exploring, in search of something. And the songs lend themselves to feeling and expression--to growth. That is a refreshing thing, even when its a little scary.


Which leads us to MGMT, who are a pretty unfeeling band. I like Oracular Spectacular okay, buts its not the most honest piece of work I've ever heard. And for as fun as those songs are, their live set was rather stagnant. Violens, who opened the show, had a nice set. Technically sound, to be sure but a little boring and a little derivative. I'd see them again.

And again, that goddamn thing where no one wants to dance...

Ugh.
mark.

Do You Wanna Dance?

Today I began reading “definitive” biographies of possibly my two biggest heroes. Damned To Fame and Catch A Wave both have been cited as “ the” biographies of a lifetime, following, in great detail, the lives of Samuel Beckett and Brian Wilson (respectively). Starting them at the same time may prove to be too much, as I was a mess today – emotions all over the place. Chapter One brought me near tears in both book’s case (early childhood), and I can’t imagine what the rest has in store.

I have found the lives of these two brilliant artists very mournful for, often times, elusive reasons and their apt biographers have begun to unravel the mystery for me. What specifically were these emotions I was experiencing all day? Where did they come from, and why couldn’t I shake them off?

I believe the first, most natural, response was an ever-increasing sense of wonder at how these men emerged the artists they were. Beckett’s highly sensitive hearing capabilities sent his imagination soaring as a child, as he watched the oft-referenced lurches from his bedroom window. He drifted to sleep countless nights with the far away bark of dogs, the whispers and cries of the trees, the grass, and even the smallest grains of sand skittering across the driveway.

“Everything cries out,” the young Beckett must have thought.

Wilson, weeks before his first birthday, rode contentedly on top of his soon to be highly abusive father’s shoulders. In high spirits, Murray Wilson began singing “When the Caissons Go Rolling Along.” To his amazement, two verses into the tune, his eleventh month old boy began humming along in perfect pitch.

“Finally, a break has come! This boy will be my bragging right,” Murray may have whispered to himself. Columnated ruins domino?

What promise. What exactly the spirit and brains and guts of these two men cost them may be forever debated.

I began to ponder my own childhood. What promise.

Then came feelings of restlessness. What am I doing? Where am I going? There is something bubbling, something working to the surface that needs release. What is the cost and is it worth it? Will I enter decisively? Am I capable of choosing death? I wonder about the times that Beckett pondered these questions. I wonder what Brian would say, in a parallel universe in which he is still emotionally available and engaged. Was it worth it?

Wilson once said more or less that his father beat hit records out of him. He literally once publicly said that. One time. What did he spend his time publicly talking about? Love. Hope. Good vibrations. These signifiers appear in countless Wilson interviews (before and after his “fall”).

Where did Beckett find the love to create people with enduring spirit in a godless wasteland? This, to quote Winnie, “is what I find so…wonderful.”

Before this becomes aimless, I will close. There isn’t a moral here. There is no value in placing someone like Beckett or Wilson or (insert your hero here) on a spinning plate, high in the air saying, “I have to be this good before I die.” I just have to be willing to enter decisively, because, well, my surf’s up.

Seth.

Joanna Newsom and Brooklyn Philharmonic at BAM

Friday evening (2/01), had the opportunity to see Joanna Newsom and her "Ys Street Band" collaborate with the Brooklyn Philharmonic (Michael Christie, Music Director) at the magnificent Opera House at the Brooklyn Academy of Music. They played the compositions from her excellent 2006 album Ys from top to bottom, broke, and then she and her band came back to play a handful of older and brand new songs.

The first half brought out what is great about the songs, but it was not the transporting experience listening to the album can be. It seemed more exercised, and I never found myself swept away by her voice, her harp, or the incredibly lush arrangements. Thats not to say that it wasn't beautiful. I found myself thinking a lot about the songs, and came away with a much deeper appreciation for her as a songwriter. The songs are so instinctual, and will fly off in all sorts of directions, looping back over themselves and in and out, to great heights and depths. Sometimes she will stick in some rhythm for so long, vocally, that I start to lose sense of the lyrics. This may be her intent, though, for those moments are usually stream-of-consciousness images that seem to lose themselves in the rhythm. And when she comes out on the other side of them, I am completely spun around. Her performance here seemed more to that bent--a less conscious rendering of the emotional texture of the compositions. The string arrangements however, seemed more conscious and calculated. They seemed to follow her voice around, and cascade and collapse about it, like they were trying to make sense, at least emotionally, of what she was saying. I don't imagine thats an easy thing to do--her words carry a lot of weight. The arrangements, masterfully done by Van Dyke Parks for Ys and adapted and made playable for this orchestral tour by band member Ryan Fransesconi, seemed a separate entity from Joanna and her harp, which is such an interesting team to watch. The most moving piece of the evening came in "Sawdust & Diamonds," my least favorite song on the album, which is simply harp and voice.

In contrast, the second half was much more enjoyable. The songs seemed freer and more playful. They are so by composition's standards, but they also breathed way more. And she became the center of attention, a position, I get the feeling, though she is incomparably modest, she secretly enjoys. Knees bouncing and smiling brightly, she dug into the songs much more. There was no losing of the image to the rhythm like in the first half, she was present on every word. Her voice sometimes gets lost in the moment, in the side of her mouth, or baring down on her throat--probably an effect of the difficulty of playing the harp and singing simultaneously (I can't imagine). On the first new song she played of the evening, it was more open, more penetrating than I've ever heard it. And her fingers, when they gesture after plucking the harp's strings, seem to be somehow attached to them.

The evening took on a whole new meaning for me after a moment that came about half-way through the second set. I had been feeling (without noticing it) particularly happy to be in America after the song "Inflammatory Writ." It sounded to me so quintessentially American, harkening back to folk and western traditional song, by a visionary composer not yet at the peak of her artistic career. And I appreciated where I was, in a gorgeous Opera House run by one of the finest arts institutions in the world. And then within a few songs the band paused to mention Barack Obama and the Opera House erupted. Then her percussionist, Neal Morgan, spoke about how he canvased for Obama, and he brought up Hawaiian Congressman Abercrombie's endorsement of Obama as the first "citizen of the world" to run for president. Again, applause.

It was delightful and humbling and for some reason I started to love the American-ness of everything--Ryan F's banjo, Maggie Gyllenhaal sitting a few rows over, Joanna's boney bouncing knees, "Clam, Crab, Cockle, Cowrie." Can't remember feeling like that before.

mark.

Happy Super Fat Tuesday!

Happy Mardi Gras, all. How fitting on this day of indulgence that we will also embark on our most politically indulgent venture of recent memory: Super Tuesday, when 24 states will hold their primaries or caucuses. It's so super this year, they added a Duper. That's right: Duper.

In celebration thereof, rather than rattle off predictions and the results of my fervent analysis, I'm just going to link to a couple of things I've read that I liked.

This is by Matt Bai and is from last weeks Times Magazine. Its a look at super-delegates (a confoundingly stupid scheme to keep the party together) that says today's contest will probably render the Democratic contest moot, to be judged by a small body of self-important party officials (who seem to have only the party in mind, not the rest of the world, and who also include the Clintons).

This is Michael Chabon's argument on why everyone should support Obama. It makes sense but I think he's kind of a jerk about it.

And this is by Jesus, er, Frank Rich. Just read it, please.

That's all. Hope you enjoy and that you vote today if you can or if there is a contest in your state.

Dupermark.

update: Obama, too, is a superdelegate. Also, found this article by Marc Lamont Hill on why not to support him.

Rise Above

Suddenly this album struck me. I have been listening obsessively for days. I think I need to get this out...

The story goes--Dave Longstreth, rummaging through some old tapes, found the case to Black Flag's Damaged, an album which he was obsessed with as a kid. There was no cassette, only the liner notes. At some point he decides to use his discovery, re-imagining Damaged without revisiting. All he has is his memory, his artistic openness, and his mastery of craft. The result is Rise Above by his outfit The Dirty Projectors, released Sept. 11, 2007.

Essentially, its an album about memory--a picture of a man reflecting with nostalgia, regret, at times disgust, on his life post-punk. In "No More," when Longstreth, with a voice as free as a geyser, as controlled as a laser, laments with a belt, "every night I get drunk," arching the last word with a lilting falsetto, his self-hatred is palpable. He has fucked up, and now he has to live with it.

Even physically, what happens with fingers and drums. Its effortless. The entire virtuosic intro to "Spray Paint (The Walls)" or the guitar breakdown (literally, breakdown) on "Rise Above" feels like the buzz of the appendages themselves are keeping them moving, the body is numb, half-asleep. The fingers just move, of their own accord and out come these jolting and perfectly melodic phrases or waking lilts. The fingers of someone who has been there before, who’s seen it all before, and can’t bring himself to care, but the marks of age are bubbling up to the scarred surface.

But this interpretation of the album hardly scratches the surface of its depth.

For as raw and emotional as the album is, as compositionally sophisticated, and as, yes, beautiful as it is, its still, to its core, punk rock. It is anti-establishment intrinsically in the most gut wrenching and sorrowful and, at least in the title track, hopeful way. It doesn't have to be vocal about it.

And musically it is doing something that punk rock can no longer do. The album is jarring on a sonic level. The collision of disparate musical elements, abrasive time signatures, pounding rhythms that crash in before their welcome, tortured vocal chords that penetrate a little too loudly, and for a little too long, create an aggressive tension of unrest—nothing is going right, and someone is disturbed about it. If Damaged is an album, lyrically and musically, about a man railing against his situation in the world, a political album, Rise Above is deeply personal, a reflection on the man himself, in the context of his noisy world. While the anti-authority sentiment is considerably more tired, the emotional earnestness is painfully present.

It exists behind Damaged, underneath it, and moving through it. With Damaged, Black Flag was unabashed with how fucked up their lives were. They would go out, wreak havoc, get busted by the cops, go home and get wasted. Longstreth turns that into Rise Above, a dissection of what is beneath all that—the fear, insecurities, desire for a better life—manifesting itself in such destructive ways. For that, with its fierce sensitivity and intellect, it is a braver record, deeply indebted to the tunnel-vision of its past, and ready to move on.

In real time, it is a perfect marker of how far we’ve come, how far the walls have been pushed out. Punk rock has been co-opted—a tragedy of modern music, not because the potential for a lot of great art was lost, but that it was allowed to happened at all. The effects of that led to a struggle to create independent music that could not be embraced, could not be spun. And, in a triumph of modern music, of which we are in the throes at the moment, the struggle did not lead us downward in the direction of Black Flag, but upward with more complex, difficult, personal music—music that is changing the landscape of rock ‘n’ roll (an already impossibly vast landscape) on compositional and emotional levels, in ways more profound than bands of the Black Flag ilk could have imagined. A look at the list we’ve created below, and we see artists—Grizzly Bear (who, to me, is the touchstone of this movement, and whose Chris Taylor co-produced Rise Above with Longstreth), Deerhoof, Menomena, Longstreth and co.—that are new pioneers, forging forward, constantly expanding the capacity of rock ‘n’ roll, refusing to accept that there are rules to what goes into a song. Rise Above is a formally masterful work of art. It is radical and beautiful and shows us that independent music may be the last art form where avant garde can actually still exist.

mark.

Elect George Clooney now!

if i may...

(and, yes, this will probably turn into a Pro-Barack Obama rant)

I saw some jerk reading the NY Post on the subway the other day. and the headline read something to the effect of "Obama crushes Hil 55-27." And my reaction was, similar to my reaction that I usually have when I see a Post, "Jesus Christ, Post." I thought, "there you go again making a mockery of our political system." I was all indignant that they were likening the presidential race, "the presidential race, for God's sake!" to a football game. It wasn't until yesterday when I realized how very right they were, in fact. It very much is like that. And suddenly and strangely I was okay with that. Its what it is. And as things is, we have the same expectations of the Super Bowl and Super Tuesday (coincidence? I think not). We have the same expectations of football players and presidential contenders. One might go so far as to say the football players have more in the way of social influence than so-called Leaders of the Free World. We don't expect our leaders to lead anymore. The Office of the President has become that of someone who just does his/her job (or doesn't and lame-ducks it up) without leading his/her people in any way. This is how it is and how people expect it to be. Who really leads this country? Personalities--Oprah, Jon Stewart, um, I don't know Brad Pitt, George Clooney (yes!). Al Gore has said he's had much more influence doing what he's doing now than if he were to be President. Bill has said the same about post-Presidential life. So the Presidency and the race therefor is deemed moot in public perception, leaving it as fodder for entertainment, sport, a reality television show.

But these leaders (or even surrogate leaders) don't want to be President. Real leaders of our country don't want to be President anymore. There are so many better ways to make a difference in the world. And the paths that people venture to make a real difference in the world, probably ultimately disqualifies one from the office anyhow.

So thats part of the reason I'm investing myself in someone who I think maybe, just maybe (and I will SO take maybe at this point) can turn the Office of the President into a place of leadership, again. The remaining Decmocratic candidates' policies are hardly differentiable if pulled out of a hat. But one of them may able to lead a nation of people, who, whether willingly or not, are bonded by this country and its principles. And however cliche they've become, they're actual. It is a good thing. And though the "people" at the Post may be watching the television on Nov. 4 waiting to see who gets to drop the pretty balloons, or who "trounces" whom, there are a lot of people in this country who feel that this is a crucial time for us and we need someone who can lead. I have not known a real leader in my lifetime. And that there is the potential to have someone who is willing to lead who might also be the President is shocking to me.

Speaking of George Clooney, why can't this guy be President? Seriously, this is what we need.

mark.

p.s. I found myself strangely emotional about John Edwards dropping out of the race yesterday. His presence was important to "the cause" and I hope he doesn't disappear.

Our Year In Music...

2007 was a mind-bogglingly good year for music. So much so that when it was over, it felt like a bit of a rest was due. That won't happen, of course, because the ball is still rolling and the momentum of '07 is bowling forward. So to put the year into perspective, we've devised this list of 15 albums that came out last year. It is, in essence, a retrospective to the best albums, but the intent was larger in scope. We want to provide a portrait, a check-point, as it were, as to where we stand (stood) in this moment in time. We want to point people--and maybe our future selves--to the art of our time that has touched us, or that we feel is important or relevant. And though we wanted to represent as much of a cross-section of artists as possible, the landscape, while rich, is not sweeping. Mostly white, indie, rock and roll, which encompasses a surprisingly broad range of sounds. We can't deny that there is some representing going on, as most of the artists are from Brooklyn or New York, or have deep ties to the place. But that is not without good reason. Mostly, though, we want to talk about it. So let's open it up to discourse, shall we?

Music may be the most important art of the modern age. And this, to us, is the most important music of a great year.


1. Of Montreal - Hissing Fauna, Are You The Destroyer?

Though it was one of the very first albums to come out last year, its still the one we go back to. We still wake up with the songs in our head, still are infected by the beats, are still in disbelief that something so fun and funny and joyous can be so emotionally raw and personal and dark. The more we listen to it, the more challenging it gets, emotionally and intellectually. It is simultaneously a throwback and a way to the future, but its focus is neither. It is a painfully loving album reconciling the anguish of the past and the uncertainty of the future in hopes of being a full person and finding actual love or something like it in the present. The album's centerpiece, the 12-plus minute, "The Past Is A Grotesque Animal" is an obsessive rant that refuses to let go. It is destructive and terrifying and personal in the purest way--it never feels like therapy. It, like every song on the album, is wild energy focused to a pin's point. Kevin Barnes knows exactly what it takes to ask one's self the darkest questions, and invites us in on a personal quest, accompanied by insanely danceable beats and ridiculously catchy melodies. That this seminal album comes 10 years into their career is a promising shock.


2. LCD Soundsystem - Sound Of Silver

James Murphy makes sounds and sense. They are always truthful and surpsingly touching. He takes his time and we wait for him. He deftly knows what to do to make us laugh, cry, think, and move, usually all at once. 10 months old, but the album feels like its been around forever. The most listenable and move-to-able album out. It hardly does justice to talk about it.


3. The Dirty Projectors - Rise Above

Dave Longstreth has been looking at things from left field for quite some time now, often with exhilarating results. But it wasn't until this year's Rise Above that he bowled us away with all that his imagination was capable of. Black Flag's self contained world of skater punk-dom seems to find a frightening depth when heard through Longstreth's voice and arrangements, all of which are executed with the energy and anarchic excitement that came with the original punk movement. This music is seriously exciting and disarming at every turn, as it juggles a bizarre sense of humor and an ability to cut deep to reveal frightening truths. Longstreth and his band, with Rise Above, help to reaffirm that art will always be able to deeply surprise and transform as long as artists are willing to lay themselves bare, no matter the cost.


4. Radiohead - In Rainbows

Radiohead is a complete artist. Every move they make resonates from top to bottom; from the broadest political or business decision, to every single note that is played or not played on their records or live shows. The thing we get from it is this: when we think they can't take us anywhere else, when they have taken us to what must be the end of the road, they force us to go further. And up until this album it has been by accelerating and pushing our limits (I'm thinking "Sit Down Stand Up"). But this time around, it comes in drastic curves in the road. They aren't forcing us anywhere, anymore--we willingly follow. They baited us with this move to self-release the album (an incredibly bold and inspiring move) and the album is their most precise and shockingly intricate to date. The songs are more disarming and mature. The band is more naked, more sexual than they have ever been. If the tension in Radiohead's music gets any more electric, we might not be able to handle it. But Radiohead has been surprising us all with our own capacity for a very long time.


5. The National - Boxer


The Jesus-Christ-I-know-that-feeling album of the year. Perfectly articulates an inarticulate generation of lovers. See Seth's post from December below.





6. Menomena - Friend and Foe

Each song is a different world, an unpredictable adventure. From the opening kicks of "Muscle'n'Flo," its clear that the album is epic in scope. The songs take unexpected turns that range from elevating, deceptively prog, anthemic oceans to full stops, gentle flicks, grains of sand, while the lyrics remain always simply honest. Its tied together by serious ambition and a wise-beyond-their-years sense of humor. 2007 was the strongest year for drumming in recent memory, and Friend and Foe's beats rank among the fattest. These boys are playing to no one's expectations and are always surprising.


7. Battles - Mirrored

Mirrored is an unparalleled album. There is nothing unconscious about it. It is calculated and skillful and so rock solid. It is a complete work of art, compressed and refracting complex equations into jaw-dropping rock'n'roll. There is a surprise around every corner. Completely in control at all times with wild ambition. Perhaps the most notable display of their ambition is revealed in their stunning live show. These guys are clearly bringing the James Brown, sweating buckets, waking us up to the notion that it really does make a difference to be the hardest working in show business.



8. Deerhoof - Friend Opportunity

When will Deerhoof stop getting better? I am starting to think that this band may not ever slow down, just keep growing and growing until one day the drummer just explodes and takes the whole stage with him. That the man who is able to hold down and execute such complex and insane drum beats might one day explode instead of die seems entirely possible. This stuff is so out there in its complexity that it, at times, feels improvised, effortless. In fact, the whole band gives off that sort of explosive energy; the kind that never lets you settle down, never lets on what is in store next. Not to mention that Satomi Matsuzaki opens her mouth and what comes out is both completely sexy and potentially insane. How can you not fall in love with Deerhoof?


9. Bjork - Volta

This album was entirely slept on. Bjork is an artist in a constant state of reinvention and this album exemplifies that. While not entirely cohesive, it is an experiment in chance from a mother in perpetual motion. Its a manic and maddening album, in stark contrast to her latest releases. Its her best work since the masterpiece Vespertine and with some of the hottest tracks since Post. Bjork found herself from the cutting edge of electronic music to the cutting edge of art. Here, she starts to reconcile the two without looking backwards or forwards, but at what she is right now.



10. Yeasayer - All Hour Cymbals

There is one word that sums up most how All Hour Cymbals feels : refreshing. Its such a clean feeling. Precise, exciting instrumentation and crisp production gives this album a feel that is both worldly and other-worldly. I have no idea where it came from, in the same way that we can't put our finger on where that dazing summer breeze or that bitter winter chill came from. But like those things, it commands our attention. Hopeful and post-apocalyptic, they know where we are, and are using tradition to take us to the future. They shine an optimism onto what they freely admit is a dreadful state of affairs. And the light comes through nowhere brighter than in four-part harmony.



11. Grizzly Bear - Friend E.P.

This album needs to be noted because Grizzly Bear presents themselves as artists with such control over their material that they insist on reinventing and reworking songs most bands would be terrified to touch again for fear of disrupting their beauty. This boldness not only rewards the band and listener with material that meets the former songs. In technique, scope, and depth of emotion, these songs far exceed the tracks featured on Horn Of Plenty and last year's revelatory Yellow House. The album deserves its place on the list not only musically, but philosophically as well. Grizzly Bear is able to eloquently and unabashedly share their search for identity with us, through self-exploration and having their friends pick them apart. It is healing for them and somehow, we are better for it.



12. Beirut - Flying Club Cup

Even if we don't consider that everything Owen Pallett touches turns to gold, its still a very good album with some very good songs. Zach Condon is, in the best way, the natural heir to Rufus Wainwright, who was never able to capitalize on the legacy laid by his first, most grandiose and textured album. Flying Club Cup's soaring melodies and layered instrumentation put Condon at the forefront of young singer/songwriters whose albums, we are certain, will only get better with age. Though some of the songs peter out before they reach the emotional depths they strive for, when they hit the mark, it is breathtaking. For instance, "Un Dernier Verre (Pour La Route)" is one of the most simply beautiful songs of the year. Plus, France is great.



13. Phosphorescent - Pride



A man and his tape recorder, world wise and steeped in folk tradition, uncertain or perhaps disregarding of what is happening with the Brooklyn scenesters, it runs deep.





14. Panda Bear - Person Pitch

Something tells me that Noah Lennox and Brian Wilson would be seriously kindred spirits. It is obvious from any of Lennox's output with both Animal Collective or as Panda Bear that Wilson has been a great influence on him. But the relationship is much more complex than that. Both artists have a tendency to keep their lyrical themes simple and direct so that the quality of their voice tells the emotional story. Both artists have a great deal to say about what the computer is capable of as a musical tool. Person Pitch's shifting musical landscape is so serene and alien at times that we are fairly certain that it must be from the future. Wherever it came from, this album is constantly revealing new layers even nearly a year after its release.



15. Arcade Fire - Neon Bible

This album is so puzzling. The lyrics, on paper, are positively bad. But somehow when Win Butler belts them or lets them out with a breathy whisper, they make a whole lotta sense. It doesn't have the exalting anthems that make us scream for Funeral, but it presents a very strong, impassioned, and we get the impression, burned band flexing its muscles and pounding the pavement. Its a strangely American album that only outsiders could make. And "My Body Is A Cage" is one of the best and certainly scariest songs of the year.




This is how we define 2007.
Please, share your thoughts...