today the world war II memorial opened in washington, dc. reading the article in the nytimes, i was struck by the sadness that 1,100 veterans of that war die every day. am reading 'homefront' by catherine lutz, which traces the history of ft. bragg, and address the camp-followers and war workers, many of them women, who go unpraised, relatively, for their work and hardship during this time. i can't possibly imagine being part of daily life in 'the good war,' and i bet you can't either, so i encourage all you whipper snappers to call your cute grannies and grampies and ask them...
IN OTHER NEWS:
Madonna has picked the worst time in the world to ask for 2.4 billion dollars for her label. And, umm, Jaged Little Pill sold 4 million copies more than Like A Virgin?
4.29.2004
the summer's here and the time is right...
people keep talking about the summer, and it makes me want to sing 'summertime' as covered by the zombies, which is one of the best songs by the best bands of the '60s, imho. flip flops, free movies outside, bike rides...i'm starting to sound like a playboy pin up.
i've been writing about new jersey, southern new jersey shore towns, for two years now, but i still barely understand bruce. i'm watching 'the history of rock' which has too many shots of the man, sleeveless, neck straining, and i get uncomfortable thinking about muscular dudes making music in general. the exhibit at EMP, on bruce and roads (duh), was so bland it could have been a rolling stone picture book. or wait...but, it's only through songs like "racing in the street" or some parts of nebraska that i can really get it. mansion on the hill? good song (better book, tho) but all those big rock saximaphones? backing vocals? stupid stadium drums? somehow it doesn't fit that voice - which to me is so tired it barely fits a young man's body - yet along the jubilant outfitting of a doo wop studio band.
on that note: i've been previewing through the stacks of incoming tonight, among other things, and wondering when it was that i made the shift between wanting to be 'that girl who knew all the up and coming bands' and being 'that girl that knows the history of pop music pretty damn well'. the short answer - the shift from college newspaper to real world freelancing? who knows. i have a younger friend who does the newspaper/webzine thing, and it is strangely intimidating to chat with him about music - because he just knows so much and reads everything about new bands - but i never see him at concerts (like the most excellent chris cutler performance this evening...that guy is so expansive, playing better drums with a ping pong ball than meg can with two big sticks) of established musicians. hmm. how quickly the novelty of youth wears off? how soon the old dig into the bins, trying to find things *worth* writing about? Well, I do both, but I'll tell you what, I'll be damned before I review any of the following sucky records
The new I Am The World Trade Center - tacky boring eurohouse and, duh, change your band name cause it's just not even funny anymore. I mean, these two hipster coathangers put out a press release maybe two weeks after 'the incident' saying that they'd changed their name to "I Am The..." then they switched back. Can't buy Manhattan back with beads, bro.
Broken Spindles - mentioned before, pretentious crap from the faint. why is it that bands don't even have to break up anymore for us to their their lackluster members' solo efforts? INDIE LABELS, I BEG YOU TO NOT PUT OUT GRATUITOUS CRAPPY SIDE PROJECTS JUST TO CASH IN ON THE NAME BRAND. IT IS TACKY AND OBVIOUS. but not as tacky as remix records of said record starting other washed up ex-members (tigerstyle, rip).
les san culottes - the name of this album is 'fixation orale' it makes my spine shrink in horror.
wait, all press is good press. Good records: Iron and Wine: Our endless numbered days, Mahjongg: Machinegong, Division of Laura Lee: DasNotCompute (another terrible album title)
i've been writing about new jersey, southern new jersey shore towns, for two years now, but i still barely understand bruce. i'm watching 'the history of rock' which has too many shots of the man, sleeveless, neck straining, and i get uncomfortable thinking about muscular dudes making music in general. the exhibit at EMP, on bruce and roads (duh), was so bland it could have been a rolling stone picture book. or wait...but, it's only through songs like "racing in the street" or some parts of nebraska that i can really get it. mansion on the hill? good song (better book, tho) but all those big rock saximaphones? backing vocals? stupid stadium drums? somehow it doesn't fit that voice - which to me is so tired it barely fits a young man's body - yet along the jubilant outfitting of a doo wop studio band.
on that note: i've been previewing through the stacks of incoming tonight, among other things, and wondering when it was that i made the shift between wanting to be 'that girl who knew all the up and coming bands' and being 'that girl that knows the history of pop music pretty damn well'. the short answer - the shift from college newspaper to real world freelancing? who knows. i have a younger friend who does the newspaper/webzine thing, and it is strangely intimidating to chat with him about music - because he just knows so much and reads everything about new bands - but i never see him at concerts (like the most excellent chris cutler performance this evening...that guy is so expansive, playing better drums with a ping pong ball than meg can with two big sticks) of established musicians. hmm. how quickly the novelty of youth wears off? how soon the old dig into the bins, trying to find things *worth* writing about? Well, I do both, but I'll tell you what, I'll be damned before I review any of the following sucky records
The new I Am The World Trade Center - tacky boring eurohouse and, duh, change your band name cause it's just not even funny anymore. I mean, these two hipster coathangers put out a press release maybe two weeks after 'the incident' saying that they'd changed their name to "I Am The..." then they switched back. Can't buy Manhattan back with beads, bro.
Broken Spindles - mentioned before, pretentious crap from the faint. why is it that bands don't even have to break up anymore for us to their their lackluster members' solo efforts? INDIE LABELS, I BEG YOU TO NOT PUT OUT GRATUITOUS CRAPPY SIDE PROJECTS JUST TO CASH IN ON THE NAME BRAND. IT IS TACKY AND OBVIOUS. but not as tacky as remix records of said record starting other washed up ex-members (tigerstyle, rip).
les san culottes - the name of this album is 'fixation orale' it makes my spine shrink in horror.
wait, all press is good press. Good records: Iron and Wine: Our endless numbered days, Mahjongg: Machinegong, Division of Laura Lee: DasNotCompute (another terrible album title)
4.28.2004
mahleritus
ohh...i just got the baton and have to teach a 2.5 hr long class today on turn of the 20th century music, including everybody's favorite party animal, mahler. these are the types of things my nightmares are made of - quick, teach 20 kids something that you really don't like!
in case anyone wants to fly my to prague, tho, i would love to go to the prazske jaro series. also, dunno what's up with this czech world music series, but i have to learn more about that too.
in case anyone wants to fly my to prague, tho, i would love to go to the prazske jaro series. also, dunno what's up with this czech world music series, but i have to learn more about that too.
4.27.2004
spooky goth girls
okay, so i read Smithsonian but I'm under 50 and don't drive a Volvo stationwagon, sue me. I read an article about this sort of annoying seeming goth chick who considers herself an urban archaeologist and lurks around forgotten nyc places, taking pix and throwing parties. the big secret? this might be one of my lost at birth bosom buddies (so anne of ggables, ya!). only, i don't wear tights.
music. holy shit! i'm finally working on my masterpiece, fill. it's a genius four minute collage of phil collins drum solos. is to be mixed in 5.1 surround sound, so the fill will be even more epic. John Oswald, watch out.
music. holy shit! i'm finally working on my masterpiece, fill. it's a genius four minute collage of phil collins drum solos. is to be mixed in 5.1 surround sound, so the fill will be even more epic. John Oswald, watch out.
gnus
an article on session musicians, including Carol Kaye, who appears to be a totally kickass bass player (better even than kim gordon).
also, this slightly evil article about content/hardware handshaking. although i applaud the ipod (someone should send me one, i'll promise it a good review) i'm starting to wonder if maybe its success is prompting a lot more consolidation in the hardware industry's control of intellectual property, and if that's really in all of our best interests.
also, this slightly evil article about content/hardware handshaking. although i applaud the ipod (someone should send me one, i'll promise it a good review) i'm starting to wonder if maybe its success is prompting a lot more consolidation in the hardware industry's control of intellectual property, and if that's really in all of our best interests.
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