am compiling a list of american musical anti-heroes based on my semi-loathing of the 'american icon' issue of rolling stone. here is what i have thus far:
iggy pop
perry farrell
henry rollins
steve albini
tom verlaine
mike patton?
trent reznor?
i know. not a long list. what are the qualities of an anti-icon? to be a hero of the substrata is not merely enough but to have inspired people to leave or siginificantly change their situations in life -- to aspire or regress without a hint of that power making it into mainstream attention, either critical or 'man on the street.'
7.09.2003
6.17.2003
two main listens today - DJ Irene and Ellen Allien - who would not be very entertaining in a fight. allien's 'berlinette' is catching me, mostly for the track 'trash scapes' with the repetition of 'the past is a night train, to unknown trash scapes' is jangled, mutated and lovely without being miserable. i wish it would develop more, but its four minutes are fine.
DJ Irene is some seriously cheesy shit.. tho her skill is admirable, her tracks remind me of divey days at the Jersey shores (oh so long ago, 2002). i do like the tainted love mix by hi-speed, an agitated clip which speeds by into the slow calm of 'cool world,' and am into the 'funk 4 fun' as a more sophisticated listen in the second half of the mix. generally even i, who fears and loathes open spaces filled with wax-chested boys, know her pulls and am underwhelmed. i guess if i was cracked out i'd have a sick, amused smile on my face though, so i don't plan to sell the album...i'll keep it in my car, just in case.
DJ Irene is some seriously cheesy shit.. tho her skill is admirable, her tracks remind me of divey days at the Jersey shores (oh so long ago, 2002). i do like the tainted love mix by hi-speed, an agitated clip which speeds by into the slow calm of 'cool world,' and am into the 'funk 4 fun' as a more sophisticated listen in the second half of the mix. generally even i, who fears and loathes open spaces filled with wax-chested boys, know her pulls and am underwhelmed. i guess if i was cracked out i'd have a sick, amused smile on my face though, so i don't plan to sell the album...i'll keep it in my car, just in case.
6.02.2003
unexpected pleasure - my friend andy, aka vertebrae, played a show in youngstown at the only decent club, the nyabinghi. of course, only like eight people were in the audience to hear his autechre meets the notwist, one man with an accordian, a laptop and a dream show but hey, what can ya do? i'm a sucker for children's toys bumped up next to harsh, skeletal sounds and man, he's really good and teasing beautiful, mature little melodies out of them. i guess he's changing the name of his project, tho, since some ridiculous band from seattle sent him a cease and desist on it even tho they've never put anything out and he's already got an album. alas, the tangled web of music law.
speaking of which, i was sad but not surprised to see that the FCC relaxed even further the cross-ownership of media in American markets. Now charmers like Rupert Murdoch can own newspapers, local television stations, radio stations, and cable channels in one market. Fun! the vote was split 3-2 with all the Rep. voting yay, the demos voting ney. Tis a sad world we're living in.
speaking of which, i was sad but not surprised to see that the FCC relaxed even further the cross-ownership of media in American markets. Now charmers like Rupert Murdoch can own newspapers, local television stations, radio stations, and cable channels in one market. Fun! the vote was split 3-2 with all the Rep. voting yay, the demos voting ney. Tis a sad world we're living in.
5.27.2003
the last week has been most unmusical...my grandmother had a surprise bout with cancer and was in hospice for a few days before she died. the weird silence of that time was only broken by the little portable breathing machine thing with a rolling three-part noise which mingled with breathing as the two most terrifying sounds in my recent memory.
then of course there's the funeral where the terrible organist drones the most basic left hand to a frail sketch of melody - it's like baby food...anything strong and people are going to 'lose it' which, you know, isn't a bad thing. my grandfather watched the all day john wayne festival the day after her death, and my family flitted around, and i of course just wanted to dig out some faure or something and just be miserable in my own world, but i couldn't be so selfish nor melodramatic.
now i'm listening to lillux, the most horrible, crappy madonna-owned shlock. i wish shakira would strangle these dumb canadians. in the traditional major label chase, it took me over 20 tranfers to talk to someone who had any idea how i might get this promo. lovely.
then of course there's the funeral where the terrible organist drones the most basic left hand to a frail sketch of melody - it's like baby food...anything strong and people are going to 'lose it' which, you know, isn't a bad thing. my grandfather watched the all day john wayne festival the day after her death, and my family flitted around, and i of course just wanted to dig out some faure or something and just be miserable in my own world, but i couldn't be so selfish nor melodramatic.
now i'm listening to lillux, the most horrible, crappy madonna-owned shlock. i wish shakira would strangle these dumb canadians. in the traditional major label chase, it took me over 20 tranfers to talk to someone who had any idea how i might get this promo. lovely.
5.16.2003
ten pm, about to go see the new matrix movie, yay!
today i cleaned out my desk, pouring all the promos and bullshit into my bag, along w/ whatever office supplies caught my eye, of course. probably the only thing that i got out of my terrible job was a better understanding of curtis mayfield and stevie wonder, courteousy of my boss's husband, who seemed to own every CD in the world but is simultaniously not really allowed to listen to music in the house. i have never in my life been in a place with so much unhappy sound and i am so glad to be gone.
tomorrow i am picking up jack ashford from motown's funk brothers from the airport for the 'standing in the shadows of motown' gig we're doing on sunday. what the hell do i say to a guy who played the vibes on every motown song, and played on 'what's going on' especially? like 'hi, mr. ashford, you're the coolest person my parents age who still seems to be alive' totally weird.
on my stereo:
go go go airheart 'love my life...hate my friends' which is like the best parts of the make up w/o the bs politics. the recording itself is scratchy and comes up after songs start, very amatuerish, but rules in a timeless, fun but surprisingly dense way. whatever, it fucking rules.
ugly duckling. some cali white boy hip hop group who supposedly sound like early de la but just sound like a bunch of lame kids making a concept album about a mythical fast food chain called 'meatshake' and their unfortunate franchise across the street from the veggie hut.
annoying joke band list:
1. atom and his package
2. dan the automator
3. gravy train
4. momus
5. prince paul
shit, my ride's here. there's a funny picture of dave friedman (flaming lips/mogwai/longwave/ etc etc producer who lives in fairy land, upstate ny) in the new rolling stone which looks strangely like my ex-boyfriend. so weird to know all about someone w/o knowing what they look like and then they look like someone you know. was reading 'the women of motown' oral history book and one of the ladies was talking about how motown women were interchangeble in the early days because no one knew what any of them looked like. what a concept - pop without a face.
today i cleaned out my desk, pouring all the promos and bullshit into my bag, along w/ whatever office supplies caught my eye, of course. probably the only thing that i got out of my terrible job was a better understanding of curtis mayfield and stevie wonder, courteousy of my boss's husband, who seemed to own every CD in the world but is simultaniously not really allowed to listen to music in the house. i have never in my life been in a place with so much unhappy sound and i am so glad to be gone.
tomorrow i am picking up jack ashford from motown's funk brothers from the airport for the 'standing in the shadows of motown' gig we're doing on sunday. what the hell do i say to a guy who played the vibes on every motown song, and played on 'what's going on' especially? like 'hi, mr. ashford, you're the coolest person my parents age who still seems to be alive' totally weird.
on my stereo:
go go go airheart 'love my life...hate my friends' which is like the best parts of the make up w/o the bs politics. the recording itself is scratchy and comes up after songs start, very amatuerish, but rules in a timeless, fun but surprisingly dense way. whatever, it fucking rules.
ugly duckling. some cali white boy hip hop group who supposedly sound like early de la but just sound like a bunch of lame kids making a concept album about a mythical fast food chain called 'meatshake' and their unfortunate franchise across the street from the veggie hut.
annoying joke band list:
1. atom and his package
2. dan the automator
3. gravy train
4. momus
5. prince paul
shit, my ride's here. there's a funny picture of dave friedman (flaming lips/mogwai/longwave/ etc etc producer who lives in fairy land, upstate ny) in the new rolling stone which looks strangely like my ex-boyfriend. so weird to know all about someone w/o knowing what they look like and then they look like someone you know. was reading 'the women of motown' oral history book and one of the ladies was talking about how motown women were interchangeble in the early days because no one knew what any of them looked like. what a concept - pop without a face.
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