A riddle so strong.
So I’m an occasional patron of a nearby gentleman’s club. (Why? I like titties. Don’t judge me.) Most of the songs played in this place are what you’d expect - pop, hip-hop, hair metal, anything with a good groove to it. Saturday evening, though… there was a song that, shall we say, stuck out. Far be it from me to impugn on a girl’s choice of dance music, and granted the song has a pretty heavy cock-rock vibe to it. But still… a song wherein the lead singer talks about his own funeral, off an album written entirely about the heroin addiction that eventually killed him? Doesn’t scream lap dance to me.
If you don’t know already what song I’m talking about… well, here:
Could have been worse, I guess. Could have been “Down in a Hole.”
Still, though, I await the day when they hire a girl hip enough to dance to this:
She’s all growns up.
Lily Allen’s Alright, Still… is a pretty terrific pop album. It’s also decidedly one written by a callow youth, all sneers and blown raspberries at stoner brothers, doddering grannies, cheating boyfriends, skeevy barflies and whoever else happens to bounce towards her. Her new joint, It’s Not Me, It’s You, doesn’t represent a big leap forward in terms of artistry — it’s built on big hooks and cheerfully loping synth lines, with the occasional genre-scrambling curlicue to keep things interesting. In terms of maturity, though, Ms. Allen has started moving beyond the teenage dream, something she straight-up admits in the opening track “Everyone’s At It” when she sings, “I don’t like staying up, staying up past the sunrise.” The sarcasm is still there, but it’s aimed at bigger targets now (fame, government, racism, etc.). Surprisingly, there’s also a significant amount of heartfelt sincerity; the track “Who’d Have Known,” a look at a developing relationship, is particularly striking in this regard, and when Allen croons, “The other day, you accidentally called me ‘baby’,” you can almost hear her smile in the studio. And then there’s “Him,” which is like Joan Osbourne’s “God” without the overwhelming suck. The rest of the album could be terrible, and it’d still be worth owning for the couplet, “I don’t think he’s ever felt suicidal / His favorite band is Creedence Clearwater Revival.”
The video for the album’s second single, the C&W-flavored barnburner ‘Not Fair,’ can be found here. You might also want to take a look at this video in which she gets out her third nipple.
Mix #9. Because nine is fine.
Stennie periodically holds a CD Mix Challenge. It is, by her admission, nearing the end of its lifespan. There’s one more to go after this current round, and then it’s done. So given a dearth of future opportunities, I decided to jump back into the fray. As usual, mine’s the belligerent black sheep of the collection. Would I have it any other way? Probably not. Here’s the rundown of the mix I named STERN GERMAN:
1) (shortest song in your collection): Napalm Death, “You Suffer”
Not just the short song in my collection but in anyone’s — it’s officially recognized by the Guinness Book of World Records as the shortest song ever written. How the vocalist manages to squeeze four separate words into that bark, I’ll never know.
2) (song with a color in the title): Cursive, “Some Red Handed Sleight of Hand”
A propulsive audio bomb at the beginning of the band’s terrific album The Ugly Organ. Tim Kasher lays out the cycle of self-loathing and misanthopic cynicism that defines the album while the band behind him whips up a furious tornado of song. Good way to kickstart a mix, I think.
3) (good song from a bad movie): OutKast with Janelle Monae, “Call the Law”
To be fair, I haven’t seen IDLEWILD, but nobody seems to like it. Then again, very few people seem to like the soundtrack either, and I think they’re all poor misguided fools. So make of that what you will.
4) (song that steals/borrows from another song): Johnny Cash, “Joe Bean”
Cash appropriates maybe the most standard of old standards and, through stark production and solid timing, makes it a song that’ll turn your blood to ice water. If you’ve heard the song, you know what I’m talking about.
5) (song about someone you don’t like): Atmosphere, “That Night”
A song wherein MC Slug directly addresses an incident at an Atmosphere concert that saw a man abduct and murder a teenage girl. Not much more loathsome than that, is there? This was probably the hardest slot to fill — I think this was my fourth choice for said position.
6) (song by a band containing family members): The Pernice Brothers, “Baby in Two”
Songwriter extraordinaire and jangle enthusiast Joe Pernice sings. His brother Bob is one of the band members. Hence the name of the band. They’re responsible for some of the greatest melancholy pop this decade has seen.
7) (song about fuckin’): Lily Allen, “Not Fair”
This was to be the song that started my Genius mix. Then my hard drive exploded. So I shifted into the proper mix at the expense of Faith No More’s “Be Aggressive” (the catchiest song ever written about swallowing). This bouncy country-tinged tune is my early favorite for Single of the Year.
8) (song with a repeated word in the title): Future of the Left, “Small Bones Small Bodies”
After Mclusky imploded, singer/guitarist Andy Falkous and drummer Jack Egglestone dusted themselves off, recruited bassist Kelson Mathias and commenced crafting the same kind of snotty racket that Mclusky was great at, except now with synthesizers and more offbeat downtempo stuff. That said, this is one of the more straight-ahead rockers from their terrific debut LP Curses! - it wouldn’t have sounded out of place on Mclusky Do Dallas.
9) (song about a time of day): Carter the Unstoppable Sex Machine, “Midnight on the Murder Mile”
It’s rare that I assemble a mix without Carter wiggling their way in somewhere. So here they are.
10) (song that “takes you back”): TAD, “Axe to Grind”
Of all the bands to spring out of the ’90s grunge movement, TAD sounded most like the word “grunge” itself - loud, bass-heavy, howling slabs of compellingly ugly rawk. The band looked like lumberjacks and sounded like it to boot, and no album from that period for my money has held up better than Salt Lick. All it takes is a quick hit of the opening feedback and rumbling bass, and suddenly I’m fifteen again with a Walkman perpetually soldered to my head, wishing I could holler like Tad Doyle.
11) (spoken word or otherwise non-music track): George Carlin, “The Confessional”
One of the greatest routines by one of the greatest of comics from back when he was a bemused hippie rather than a splenetic grouch. “There were six sins in one feel, man!”
12) (alternate version of a song): The Afghan Whigs, “Now You Know (Live)”
Used the studio version of this a few mixes back. The live version (from the What Jail Is Like EP) is pretty hot too. The EP closes out with a scorching cover that I think I’ll save for the tenth and final mix.
13) (SAT word - big honkin’ fancy word in song): Firewater, “Psychopharmacology”
I assumed someone else would use Radiohead’s “Myxomatosis,” so I instead went with Tod Ashley’s cynical ode to overmedication. Then nobody used Radiohead. Waah.
14) (epic - song that could be a movie): The Rugburns, “Dick’s Automotive”
The narrative progression of this song is psychotic. It’s basically a Doris Wishman film already, except without all the shots of feet and potted plants.
15) (song with gibberish in lyrics): Nirvana, “tourette’s”
Well, you tell me what Kurt’s yelling here. Go on. I dare you.
16) (song about first love): P.O.S., “Been Afraid”
Absolutely heart-rending tale of two damaged people with histories of familial abuse finding love with each other despite themselves. P.O.S.’s rhymes are sharply observed and empathetic, and the song builds to an unforced, true declaration of love that never fails to catch me in the guts. Potent shit, this.
17) (kickass cover song): Me First and the Gimme Gimmes, “Desperado”
I know using Me First and the Gimme Gimmes here isn’t entirely fair, since punk-rock covers are their whole stock in trade. But what can I say, I dig ‘em.
18) (song you would like to have sung back-up on): Mr. Bungle, “Retrovertigo”
I’d be the guy hollering, “Mesmeriiiiized!”
19) (amnesty song - basically, a free space): Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, “There She Goes, My Beautiful World”
Partly because it’s one of the best songs of Cave’s career and partly because I’m a dork in love.
20) (greatest song ever written): Tenacious D, “Tribute”
So it’s not the greatest song in the world. But it’s a tribute to the greatest song in the world. That counts, right?
Since I couldn’t pull together a Genius mix, I’ve instead compiled this mix’s uglier, noisier brother, entitled ANGRY GERMAN. If any of y’all are feeling adventurous, you might wanna give it a listen. Let me know if you might be an interested party.
On crack.
First spin through the new Mastodon album Crack the Skye, and I dig it. Right now, I’d probably put it ahead of their critical breakthrough Blood Mountain — it’s slicker but also more focused. And it still rocks pretty goddamn hard. One question, though: When did Brent Hinds turn into Ozzy Osbourne?
Echo of a gunblast.
No doubt, if you’re reading this weblog, you’re also reading the weblog of the Kent M. Beeson of the Western Civilization. Which means you’ve undoubtedly read his fine new piece on the Judgment Night soundtrack. (If you aren’t reading Kent’s blog… who are you? Introduce yourself, because we’ve obviously not yet met.)
As for myself: In 1993, I’m a pubescent alt-rock kid, wedded to Rolling Stone, Columbia House and MTV. Hip-hop? Bah. Whenever Dr. Dre comes on the afternoon countdown, he gets muted. I mean, sure, I’ll bop to “Insane in the Brain.” Who wouldn’t? And sure, I own Rage Against the Machine’s debut album. But come on — that’s too LOUD to be hip-hop. And yeah, the Cypress Hill and Fishbone tracks that close out the Last Action Hero soundtrack are alright… but that’s not hip-hop, that album has AC/DC and Alice in Chains. So when I start seeing commercials for this album (which got a much harder sell than the film itself, which given the relative quality of each venture is understandable), I don’t know how to react. I mean, should I want to buy this? It’s got Pearl Jam and Slayer and Sonic Youth and Faith No More and Helmet… but why are they hanging out with rappers? I think I waited something like six months to suck it up and buy the album, by which point I’d already also purchased Biohazard’s State of the World Address and was thus a bit more open to rhymes in my metal. But still, this was a big step for a greasy noise addict.
Cut to fifteen years later, when I go out and buy Prey IV Reign on its first day of release. (It’s pretty good.) We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?
Comedy/tragedy.
If someone could please tell Taylor Swift that Romeo and Juliet die at the end of the play, that would be awesome. Also, if someone could get her the fuck off my radio, that would also be awesome.
These guys will release a new album some day… right? ‘Cause I think my disc of the last release is about to melt from overuse.
You think we need some bells?
Even upon release, “Something 2 Dance 2” must have sounded weird coming as it does at the tail end of Straight Outta Compton. After “a sucker in a uniform waiting to get shot,” “I think with my ding-a-ling,” and “Just dumb, fulla cum, got knocked out cold,” it’s downright surreal to hear Eazy-E complaining that his feet are sore from dancing. It makes more sense in the context of the album’s overall tone — it’s as an expression of the fact that Compton was basically made by a bunch of teenagers out for a good time (never has nihilism sounded so agreeable as it has on this classic album) — but it still must have been jarring in ‘88. Jump to a mere four years later, and “Something 2 Dance 2” becomes unthinkable in the wake of The Chronic and Death Certificate and The Geto Boys. I mean, what? A gangsta, a G? A hard, gat-totin’ muthafucka, going out to… dance?
Sum it up this way: Straight Outta Compton closes with “Something 2 Dance 2.” The Chronic ends with “Bitches Ain’t Shit.” How soon they grow up!
Listened to Adrenaline by Deftones for the first time since I left high school. Interesting listen in retrospect - it’s clearly a debut album, clearly the band still finding their identity, and it suffers from what one assumes is an attempt to pigeonhole the band into the then-burgeoning rap-metal (read: nü-metal) scene. (Their friendship with the dudes from Korn sure didn’t help in that regard). But even in their nascent form, you can hear traces of the art-metal they’d later produce. Listening to “Lifter” or “Fireal,” the line from Adrenaline to White Pony becomes much less blurry. I never thought it was a great album, even in the throes of teenage angst, and time hasn’t really improved it (“Engine No. 9” sounds real clumsy nowadays); still, it’s odd ten years on to find myself liking it for entirely different reasons than I did upon first encounter.
Has any band, by the by, had a more dispiriting trajectory this decade than Deftones? I mean, jesus. The self-titled had “Minerva” and a bunch of chest-beating nonsense; Saturday Night Wrist tried to up the shimmering-artiness ante but collapsed into a muddle of half-written ideas and dank production. Tension and infighting helps some bands reach great heights. It has not helped this band.
