Perfecting Sound Forever

   So I just finished reading a fantastic little piece of nonfiction called Perfecting Sound Forever and I highly recommend it to anyone with a passing interest in recorded sound.  Greg Milner follows the history of recorded sound and the contentious debates that continue to surround it.  On the way he touches on critical theory, psychoacoustics, war profiteering, music criticism, media theory, a little bit of Adorno, and some old fashioned fanboy gushing (Pavement get's mentioned a couple times).  I think this book is actually every one of my geeky interests rolled up into one single serving.  Milner is not so secretly an analog enthusiast but he's quick to point out the wild eyed doomsdaying and magical thinking endemic to certain analog purists.  

    One of the most important things I've taken away from the book is the idea that the trajectory of musical technology was not preordained.  There has always been a push towards high fidelity, having the purest representation of a sonic event, as well as a push for innovation, for creating new sounds with new technology.  It's a classic example of a tool built for observation having irrevocable effects on what it observes.  It's also always been a contentious subject, every new technology having it's utopian boosters and dystopian naysayers.  This ongoing battle hit a fever pitch with the advent of CDs.  What's most depressing about the CD chapter of the book isn't that so many people thought digital audio sounded terrible (a lot of people still feel this way) but that it was spurred by an industry desire for a format change.  Neither artists/producers nor consumers were clamoring for a better format, and many of them thought it was a useless ploy.  I always assumed that analog purism was something that came later, an old guy nostalgia but also a punk rock fuck you to a once very expensive medium.  I didn't realize that digital audio was a contentious subject from day one.  Also, the technical standards of CDs (bit depth, sampling rate) were sort of rushed into use.  That is, CDs could have been more hi-def given a couple more months in development.  And of course the greatest irony of all, that digitizing music would eventually be the industry's undoing.

    This got me thinking about the current Tape/Vinyl revivalism.  I'll admit that the most annoying trait about format fetishism is the built in nostalgia.  You kinda wanna shake these people and scream "Get with it, things change, stop trying to escape into the past.  The future is..."  you get the point.  But, there's actually a foward looking element in all this nostalgia.  Becuase you don't have to listen to records and you don't have to put them out, doing either is a conscious act, a rebellion against the norm.  It can seem like a pointless rebellion but it's not just empty posturing.  It's also not an anti-social behavior.  It creates spaces of cultural exchange where there are alternatives to the convenient and disposable (or just fickle) nature of pop culture.  Although it smacks of a fad, I think it really stems from a desire for community, the very same same desire that fuels webforums and blogs.  

    The debate for me isn't just about sound quality.  Yes, I think records sound more musical and therefore better.  But it's also about having the artifact, the fetish object.  Yes, it's conspicuous consumption, no it's not very "green," it's more expensive/not free (This debate could go in circles though.  How much energy does it take to make an Ipod?  How much did that Ipod cost?  Who get's that money?).  But I buy a record, the band makes some money, the label that put out their album makes some money, the record store makes some money, I get something permanent and usually desirable in exchange.  It seems so quaint doesn't it?  Consumerism that doesn't feel like consumerism.

    Far be it from me to say this is the only way to listen or to be actively engaged with music.  But it is effective and actually quite rewarding.  And it's thriving, which is something the industry as a whole is certainly not doing.  Polemics aside, it's a continually interesting phenomenon, especially as it consistently confounds so many people who try to shrug it off.

Effusive Praise for Beach House

"I'm going to warn everyone right now, I'm not going to shut up about this band"
    If there is one reason that music is always near the top of my list of priorities, it's because of the specific intangible feeling I get when I first fall in love with an album.  I say album here because as much as falling for a song is worthwhile and even at times transcendent, there is nothing on this earth like falling hard for a set of songs and listening to them ad nauseam just to extract (strangle) every bit of excitement out of it.  It's comparable to every rotten cliche about falling in love I know, and though it falls short of the excitement of a new relationship, falling in love with an album is rarely a regrettable decision. 
    Let it be said that I have unequivocally fallen like, deeply in love with Teen Dream.  From the first morning I listened to it on a blustery train ride to work to just the other night when Victoria Legrand sang me to a deep and satisfying sleep, it's been hard to tear myself away from these songs.  This isn't like falling for the cute girl in the sweater sitting alone at the cafe, this is like meeting someone you feel like you've always known and feeling a little scared about how comfortable you feel around them.  This is talking about the meaning of life at 4am while trying to fight back sleep so you can watch the sun come up.  This is looking back at the loves in your life and still not having all of the answers, still not being able to draw simple conclusions from them.  Why am I telling you this?  Because I have a hunch that if you're not into falling in love, you're probably not gonna be too into this album.  And that's kind of a damned shame.
    Let me make this clear before I continue to blush, Teen Dream is coherent, it's chalk full of surprising melodies as well as deft and tasteful instrumentation.  It builds off the strengths of their previous work while striking out into new territory.  The critics agree, this is a good album.  It isn't a reinvention of the form, it isn't going to contain too many sounds you've never heard, and I really don't think anyone's going to laud the complexity or virtuosity of the band (with exception to Legrand's golden set of pipes).  CMG even went so far as to call the instrumentation "staggeringly uninventive" in an otherwise positive review.  And there's nothing much resembling an extra-textual/conceptual/meta gesture anywhere on the album, so let's agree that it's sincere, that what you're hearing can be judged prima facie.  Now, I think this is interesting.  A band who's work is not just more interesting than the halo of discussion surrounding it, but a band that is almost devoid of the kind of baggage that initiates the rite of instant backlash.  I can't imagine being embarrassed about my love for this record in say three weeks when they have a meltdown in Spain.  The band has proven it's worth quietly for years now.  Sure, there's always the chance for hipster hatred, though Baltimorons don't seem to suffer the same ire as their Brooklyn counterparts.  And there will be those who dismiss anything this pretty as trite, but they're not really worth arguing with.  So what we have here is a rare record that stands to be judged without the noise of hip politics or the tiresome cockfights of who's more avant-garde.  Hopefully. 
    So for me, the only question left for to ask is this: are you or aren't you in love with this album?  If not, whatever, we'll talk later.  I'm not going to waste time trying to convince you.  This isn't like my love for Women or The Dirty Projectors where I feel like I'm defending my favorite sports team, always discussing the finer details of what makes them unarguably great.  This time I just feel bad if you can't get with this.
    And for now, why not leave it there?  You can be sure this band is going to pop up on this site in the future and be forewarned not to mention this album around me if you don't have some serious free time on your hands.  But please, give this a serious listen.  I don't think you'll regret it.

Hypocrite Listener vs Daftpop Mix Showdown part II-I'm turning this into a summmit

First, since Anna made such a fantastic list with a far superior defense attached to it, I'll give it a track by track response. My unfocused rant will follow. So let's dive in...

Beyonce-Single Ladies
This song never really did it for me, but I'll admit to the power of this song. I actually like the verse's melody more than the chorus. I've seen people just lose their shit dancing to this, so I'll back down from criticism.

Big Boi and Gucci-Shine Blockas
I love this song so much. Oh man yes, yes yes.... It reminds me of the first time I heard Hey Yeah or Ghettomusick, like getting my mind kicked in. I just feel like Big Boi tries a little harder than most to deliver, like he doesn't phone it in. This year's Int'l Players Anthem.

Fabolous and The Dream-Throw It In The Bag
Not feeling this one. Seems like paint by numbers to me.

Ghostface-Do Over
Fantastic. Maybe it's unfair to give props to straight up samples over synth beats that sound like samples, but the production gives the song a life blood, a warm throbbing thing to ground it. Maybe I'm too much a product of the 90's. I will never fuck with Wu Tang anything.

Beyonce-Halo
I've never appreciated this song until now. Beyonce is a great performer, her timing and delivery are perfect here. This is something I don't think Rihanna (I'm sorry) could pull off. One qualm, the production is pretty schlocky. Like, they could have had some real strings here, it would done her voice justice. Maybe it would have broken the aesthetic of the album as a whole, but it would have elevated the song. And if the Dirty Projectors can afford real strings, than Ryan Tedder can put down his fucking synths for one second.

Pet Shop Boys-All Around The World
Ok, I like this song. There are a number of indie acts working within these tropes, but none I've heard do them justice like this. I don't like his voice but fuck it. Maybe I just got spoiled by Beyonce on the last track.

Basement Jaxx-Scars
This is sweet, great dubstep vibe. This got me out of my seat on first listen to dance around alone in my apartment. Ace pick.

Elektrik Red-Freaky Freaky
Not doin' it for me. When “My Love” came out it seemed revelatory, like the future of music. But those synth stabs now just take me right back to 2006.  Although this is a decent track, it's using some well worn tricks.

MSTRKRFT-Heartbreaker
This is close to cheating Anna, dude was in DFA1979. I do really like this track though. Some straight up dance material, but done exceedingly well. Love those oh's.

Kanye West-Knock You Down
This sounds like Kanye phoning it in. I feel like I've heard this song before.

Raekwon-Cold Outside
YES. Right here, I like that the bass is kinda low in the mix, and that sample is tinny and a bit harsh. It allows the tension to build up to a desperate fever pitch. And those chorus vocals are the best argument against the current trend of robo-pop singing I've heard this year (close second is DOA). This is so fucking good, nothing I picked even touches this Anna. Again, Wu Tang=probs gonna love it.

Lady Gaga-Bad Romance
This right here is Rococo. So, Lady Gaga is channeling some interesting source material, and she has an impressively wide range of vocal stylings. Her lyrics sway between cheesy and clever, and there's something liberating and weird and subversive about her. She is still suffering from some of that robo-future shock that's all over the radio right now. Granted, she was a progenitor of that sound. Still sounds expensive and hollow, so perfect for clubbing.

The Dream and Kanye West-Walking on The Moon
The Dream wins me over on this one. It's hard to say why exactly. Seems a little more restrained, more relaxed than the other tracks he's done.  This get's close that  80's late era Motown hit sound.

Cam'ron-My Job
Thank you for introducing me to this song. We need more mundane-shit songs like this. Did you ever listen to that Diamond District album? It's not as funny as this, but has the same M.O. I guess the lesson here for me is that I do love Hip Hop after all.

Clipse-Kinda a Big Deal
This has a good Madlib/Dilla style stutter beat to it. I actually like this better on the second listen. Still think the rhymes are a little flat here, some retread Kanye shit.

Basement Jaxx-Raindrops
Another winner. I don't listen to enough dance music. Don't have a single criticism, just love.

Oh my god Anna, you've written quite a response to my mix. I've missed a lot of these songs, which is admittedly pretty sad. So we'll wait until later to say which mix is better (if that's necessary or even possible) but you certainly have won in the war of words/blog posts. Your post actually had me excited to hear these songs, which is something that countless Slate articles and NY times pieces could not do. So I'll concede defeat as far as that goes. Beers are on me.
Also, I've realized something that has been staring me in the face for a while but didn't want to admit. I've turned my head away from top 40 music for so long, I don't even think of it as a choice. Like, I stopped listening or caring at around 13 (a nadir for radio if you remember) so now I'm actually just lost anytime I think about pop music actually being, you know "popular." I can't read the signposts anymore. Whereas the very popular but still secondary world of "indie" or just sorta-pop, or critically acclaimed pop (or whatever) is a territory I feel more comfortable in. And when things happen there, in that world of music obsessives and innovators/trendspotters, they matter to me more than what ever happens in the top strata of cultural exchange. I mean really, pop radio could fucking burn to the ground for all I care. And yeah, that's a pretty childish thing to say. I'm know not everyone feels that way, nor should they, but I guess I should own up as to where I'm at.
But, allow some last bitter defenses for the independent world:
   As much my auto-tune beef sounds geriatric, I still stand by my assessment that pop music suffers from a serious case of dumbed down production values. Now maybe the production contains some quality compositional merits or even stylistic innovation, but as far as sound design/engineering (sense of space, dynamics, harmonic richness, timbre), it sounds depressingly flat and similar. I think this is one of the overlooked aspects of say Dilla or FlyLo, that the music actually takes up physical space in a very different way. Some of that has to do with source material and composition, but a lot of it is production values, straight up.
   This is a complaint of someone who loves records as discreet art objects, who doesn't mind turning up the volume for a quiet section of a song, that will actually sit in front of a stereo and do nothing but listen to a record. So, yes, it's unfair to criticize pop music for being super compressed (within an inch of it's dynamic life) when that is a technical concern for radio play and ipod listening (shit needs to be loud to be heard on the train, in the club, or let's be honest, as your ringtone). BUT, I think it's plenty fair to say there's more than one way to skin a cat, and that record producers have been shy when it comes to fucking with anyone's expectations as far as what a top 40 record should sound like. If you've ever heard the early leaked versions of 808's and Heartbreaks, you'll see what I'm saying. The leaked version of “Robocop” is far superior. Sounds jumping out at you, the vocals even a little low in the mix, the over all effect actually less robotic sounding than the overcooked album version. And what about the independent world? Well, recording aesthetics abound, lofi, midfi, glowfi, expansive and spare (Grizzly Bear), expansive and dense (Animal Collective), intentionally shitty (Wavves), and many that will mix it all up (Bon Iver's haunting and genius use of autotune). This seems like a small bone to pick, except that this shit is literally in my head for hours a day, so I like timbral variety. This rant could go on forever, this is obviously a Nigel centric issue.
    Here's a more hasty defense: Independent music, as codified as it is, is actually more of a free for all. You'll have to allow in the definition of “independent music” to include bands and albums not on Pitchfork's Best New Music List, or even on p4k at large. Independent labels release more records by more bands. Maybe majors move more units, but the indie world has a larger roster. And it may seem like small stakes to some people, but there's a lot of squabbling and debate between the different camps of bands who often have to share the same stage on the same night. As much as Jay Z listening to Grizzly Bear is undeniably cool, it's also just the biggest name of one world giving props to one of the biggest names of another. There are weirder and wilder bands informing each other, playing the same festival, and sometimes those conversations can get interesting. Hipsters may look the same, but there are battles going between these kids (over some stupid shit at times. Ok, maybe most of the time). That is to say, no one totally dominates and it's hard to win everyone over (even for AC). Now, who's actually gonna take potshots at Jay Z?
But, I will admit there are some real virtuosos and innovators on your list. And, I do like a lot of it at first listen. In fact, overall, it's made me a bit more poptimistic.  So thanks for the mix.  I didn't expect this to turn into a summit (yes I did), but I'm glad to have done this.  Means a lot to me, Anna.

Stay critical or die,

Nigel

Music As Cultural Artifact vs Music As the Thing Itself

    I had the pleasure of getting my hands on the latest (or almost the latest) copy of WIRE.  This is always a good thing.  I remember tooling around high school in Borders or B&N with some friends (where else are precocious and culturally hungry young people in South Bend s'posed to go?) and browsing through music mags trying to absorb as much news and information as possible.  I tried to get a mental snapshot of the music world at the time, who were the big names in England, up and comers in New York, cool labels, cool festivals, cool hitherto unknown albums from the past and present.  Copies of WIRE always loomed conspicuously, and I would poke my nose into for 30 seconds before lifting my head up totally confused.  There was always an interview with someone I'd heard of, but most of it covered artists and genres I'd never even tangentially heard of.  It was as if there was no clear entry point for me, a young man from the plains who just wanted to stay culturally relevant.  Fast forward three years, I'm working at Borders on the north side during my Junior year.  I work in the cafe which is gracefully located all of fifteen feet from the magazine racks.  I could take home the unsold copies, their covers ripped off but so what, and again stay as current as anyone I knew.  I ventured into reading WIRE as a conscious challenge to my laziness.  And besides, I was already wading into an interest in experimental compositions, sound art, improv and noise.  Every once in a while, I'd even read the damn thing cover to cover, reading in depth interviews with artists I'd never heard of.  It's mostly incredibly intelligent writing on intelligent and serious artists. 
    While reading the most recent copy, I felt like I could finally tell what really set the magazine apart, that WIRE considers music as a thing unto itself.  Not that each work is hermetically sealed, every piece they review was taken within the context of the history and current climate of music, and more broadly, within the context of the Art.  It's that in WIRE, music and sound art are always judged  by the appropriate standards, that is primarily against the goals of the work itself.  When praising say, Disintegration Loops by William Bansky, I can't imagine the review would pull an aside and say, "Well, it's not party music."  Because of course it's fucking not.  What an inane thing to say about a massive experimental loop based work about the impermanence of material record and in intractable nature of time.  Their reveiws don't trade heavily in irony.  I imagine that if they set out to review a dense and difficult work, that most writers there would take it as their duty to give that piece their utmost attention and thorough examination before weighing in on its merits. 
    This is not how music criticism works in my world.  For me, music criticism exists along an continuum between two schools of though: consumer reviews vs criticism as discrete artistic exercise.  Most of the magazines that I used to compile my cultural snapshots featured reviews that were poorly masked consumer guides.  This is the British school of music rags: they exist to give their readers a who's who, what's hot-or-not guide to the mercurial youth culture zeitgeist.  On the other side was criticism in the vein of early Rolling Stone, Creem, and in some ways early Pitchfork.  Long form reviews that were frequently entertaining and thought provoking reads, that may only tangentially relate to the piece of music or artist at hand.  Frequently, reviewing an album is just a springboard for broader cultural critique, if not just a technical exercise of the author's talents as a writer.  This is very obviously the school of thought that has influenced me most.  Not only has it influenced the way I talk and write about music, but also how I listen to music, find music, weigh the importance of music in my life, even at times affecting my worldview.  And so here's a review in WIRE, stoically, carefully examining a piece of music, making insights, providing useful comparisons, and never being lazy enough to confuse personal anecdote with profound insight. 
    Now, let's be clear.  WIRE is not for everyone, and it is at times, a little dry, maybe almost boring, or actually just boring.  It's an expensive and content filled missive for people who take music seriously and who are probably very type B and maybe even a little cantankerous.  That is, WIRE is written for Jim O'Rourke, and as much as I like Jimmy O, I'm not sure I'd want to grab a beer with him.  But I have to wonder, are they right?  Am I wrong?  Not wrong because I actually do love Kid A even if it is derivative, or that I do care (begrudgingly) about Brooklyn's finest poor little rich boys, [fill in your guess here].  I wonder if the way I talk about music, the shifting standards by which I try to judge everything, are just completely off target.  Under further examination, is it that all my pretensions of intellect, taste, and cultural fluency, I'm just talking up my own ass most of the time?  Aren't most of us?
    This feeling is compounded by the culture shock I've experienced while working at Thrill Jockey.  If your not familiar with the label, TJ trades in mostly serious, often unflashy, experimental artists such as Tortoise, The Sea and Cake, High Places, and Pit er Pat, music WIRE would write about.  Although I love Tortoise and The Sea and Cake, I can't say that Thrill Jockey's catalog is really up my alley.  It's growing on me for sure, but the looming lack of  CULTURAL RELEVANCE (imagine this phrase hangs in big block letters like a judgmental specter over everything I say or do) just puts a little sour note on my enjoyment.  Two examples come to mind.  First was Pitchfork's mild review of Tortoises new album, Beacons of Ancestorship, an amazing album by any metric and a huge step for the band.  The review admitted that the album was solid, exciting, made my masterful musicians.  But the album lost points for being too "hermetically sealed" which in this instance I'm almost certain means "not referencing or reacting to or hanging out with any hot new bands."  Then just the other night the Sea and Cake came on on someone's stereo, and I let out one of those auto-exhalations like "I looove this band" to a small chorus of eye rolls.  As if I'd professed a love for Garden State in a film studies program.  I know that these bands aren't for everyone, but I gotta wonder how much these two reactions have to do with those floating block letters that seem to hang over everything if you let them.
    Obvs, this is touching on a larger topic, and I'd appreciate the irony of writing a free form rumination on identity and personal taste in what started as praise for simple and direct music criticism.  Maybe later.  For now I'm happy to read a copy of WIRE, even if it's a little stodgy.  It's like reading the New Yorker after only having read the Red Eye for weeks straight.  It may not be as fun or frustrating, but it restores your faith in the world.

Chicago Hipsters Vote No on Girls

According to Chicagoist, the Empty Bottle shows were a sorta bust. See here:
http://chicagoist.com/2009/11/18/give_girls_a_chance.php

Also, the New York Times was not impressed:
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/11/09/arts/music/09girls.html

2009: Year of the instant Best New Music Curse.  Also, if I'm not mistaken, the band is touring with brand new members, and no one seems to mention that in their middling live reviews.  Hm.

Anomie, hyperlinks, parantheticals, commas...

   While trying to flame Amazon.com reviews which I disagreed with (a new manifestation of my misanthropic web identity), I casually tossed around the word anomie in a rebuttal to a poor review of Don Delillo's Underworld. I had to double check my sociology terms via Wikipedia to make sure I wasn't making a total ass of myself. While rereading some snippets of Durkheim, I realized how much his theories still ring true for me. Here's a lil bit:

When solidarity is organic, anomie is “impossible whenever solidary organs are sufficiently in contact or sufficiently prolonged. In effect, being contiguous, they are quickly warned, in each circumstance, of the need they have of one another, and, consequently, they have a lively and continuous sentiment of their mutual dependence. For the same reason that exchanges take place among them easily, they take place frequently, and in time the work of consolidation is achieved.”^[4] Their sensitivity to mutual needs promotes the evolution in the division of labor “because the smallest reaction can be felt from one part to another. ... they foresee and fix, in detail, the conditions of equilibrium." ^[4]"Producers, being near consumers, can easily reckon the extent of the needs to be satisfied. Equilibrium is established without any trouble and production regulates itself.”^[5]

Durkheim contrasted the condition of anomie as being the result of mechanical solidarity: "But on the contrary, if some opaque environment is interposed, then only stimuli of certain intensity can be communicated from one organ to another. Relations being rare, are not repeated enough to be determined; each time there ensues new groping. The lines of passage taken by the streams of movement cannot deepen because the streams themselves are too intermittent.”^[6] “Contact is no longer sufficient. The producer can no longer embrace the market at a glance, nor even in thought. He can no longer see its limits, since it is, so to speak limitless. Accordingly, production becomes unbridled and unregulated.”^[7]

linked from ANOMIE

   For a little bit of background, Emile Durkheim is a superstar founder of modern sociological thought. In the midst of the industrial revolution, he wrote about divisions of labor, and the above passage explains the difference between two systems: organic solidarity (think of small towns, farms, preindustrial world, or your local modern day commune) and mechanical solidarity (obvs: industrial labor, scientific management, bureaucracy, probably your first job).
   This passage is stuck in my head for a couple of reasons. To start, I was thinking that for all the possibilities and new horizons the internet presents to us, it's still completely dependent on interpersonal engagement, not just interaction but active engagement, to be at all 'organic' in it's growth. For all the brouhaha over web 2.0 (or whatever we're on now), the web is not a shining example of a self regulating structure. As the powers that be get wise, there's no reason to believe that the interwebs won't become the opaque environment Durkheim warns of.
   I'm not saying things will get all Upton Sinclair suddenly. I just know that this unwieldy and seemingly anarchic nexus of human communication is being methodically figured out by those who stand to make tons of cash or wield expansive power and influence. Which means that for all our interfacing, for all our online love-ins and congratulating, I still doubt how much more interdependent we've become. Sure, we get the feeling that our actions effect others, that the world is getting smaller. But has the balance of control shifted dramatically?
   Even forgetting the powers that be and my dire forecasts, what about the way we view each other? I think the most important point Durkheim makes, if I'm not misinterpreting him, is that mechanical solidarity doesn't just mean no fun at work. It changes the way we interact with each other on a larger scale. This system of labor encourages you to think of people as a means to an end, as a quantifiable value (known quantity to borrow disgusting business parlance). That person my be a threat or an ally or totally worthless to you given circumstances that are apt to change at any moment. And the web is full of ugly examples of this, and I don't mean gossip. At least gossip can be (and has been read) as a community maintaining exercise. I mean the constant posturing and reevaluating that something like say, oh, Pitchfork engenders. You could say that the site is a healthy and vital organ for the independent music community. But, it's not really a community driven entity. It reports and analyzes, but it doesn't open itself up to response, and deals with outside criticism in a roundabout way. It operates like old school media in that way, not always reflecting the democratic, collaborative element of the web. Hell, as Chaz pointed out, they don't even have a letter to the editor/mailbag/comment board. (and yes Chaz, this is me finally admitting you had a good point, a year late). But then again, they put on a sweet festival, and I can't really speak to the inter-workings of the site. Am I the only one who's still mystified as to how they operate? Oh, and I realize how brazenly guilty of this I am. It's one thing to talk about an art object, but to talk about people as art objects, even in praise, is actually despicable now that I think about it for more than a second.

Ok, my mistake. Fuck it, moving on.

   There's much more to the concept of anomie and to Durkheim's work that's worth knowing. It's a good counterpoint to classic Marxism (both Soviet Communism and Industrial Capitalism killed organic solidarity at every opportunity). That is to say, just because we have the means of cultural production in our hands, doesn't necessarily mean we're not all going to evil capitalists anyway. It also doesn't suddenly make us all interdependent.
   On a personal note, it's good to keep this in mind in the real world. For example, I just played a handful of shows with Abbott Smile. They seem like a blur to me now, and I'm incredibly happy and incredibly thankful for the experiences. But, if you're not careful, you can start to treat people like shit and not always realize it. Or, you start to think of this idea of an audience, like, how can we find an sympathetic audience? You can start to think of the venues, the people running them, your friends who came to see you, other bands, all as means to an end. I've tried to keep that at bay, because it does violence to just about all of my sensibilities. But there is that element to being in a band, or being in any creative endeavor, which leads to the desire for attention or recognition. Part of it is just conceit and selfishness, but part of it is that yearning for the other half of creation, the reaction, the response. And I realized the reason I envy Brooklyn bands, more popular bands, etc, is not the fame or attention. It's that they aren't working in a vacuum. What they do is responded to, debated, critiqued, sometimes appreciated, sometimes imitated. They're part of the larger cultural exchange. And, I guess that's what I want for us, and not just the band, but all of our friends who feel similarly about this. I hope that we can feel like we're in an ongoing conversation with each other.

Nigel Overreacts Again

   First, Pavement is reuniting next year. Oh shit. I don't know what to say. For some reason I want to hide even though I'm inexplicably happy and shocked and yet not shocked and then a little underwhelmed when I think of the reality of it. But what if they went into the studio? Oh shit oh shit oh shit. What the fuck am I going to do when I live in a world where Pavement is back together?

   Ok, second, anyone who hasn't read this or this, should if you're into that sort of thing. Nitsuh Adebe's passing glance at 'indie culture' is spot-on for the most part and Anna's addendum takes the debate out of the aesthetic ether and brings it into the real personal-political realm in which we live, and where most of these questions of good vs bad, twee vs hardcore, inde-cred vs indie-tastic are banged out. I had the privilege of knowing Anna during her indie years, making this an even more interesting topic. Because it's both a story about zeitgeist and personal histories.
   Everyone agrees that things have changed since those oh so distant pre 9/11 days where independent and mainstream music sat confortably on either side of the aisle. The change has been pretty massive, but it's happened rather subtle. Or maybe rather, in a herky-jerky and uneven fashion, leaving a pretty fractured music world in it's wake. Fractured, but also indelibly connected and intertextual, if I want to get all faux-academic, which I definitely do for god knows why. This is where I break from Nitsuh's argurment: that there are two warring factions. I know it's a streamlined thesis, a simple way of looking at a complex thing for a certain ease of discussion and summation. And suprisingly, he's on point. He's got a good point about indie having been a pretty uncomplicated term in England for a while. He also nails the early aughts desperate desire for propulsive and snappy guitar rock. It's easy to forget what life was like before the Strokes and the White Stripes. Which leads me to another pet project of mine: Although we think all indie roads lead back to Pavement, most roads probably lead back to the Strokes. More on that in some other post. But yes, a bunch of stylish rich kids on a major label living an impossible New York fantasy life kicked open the doors to a lot of minds. Lame but true, and also not totally lame.
   Which brings me to another much larger pastime of mine: bitching about New York. I think my major objection to Nitsuh's article is that he never mentions New York, let alone does he bitch about it. And bitching about New York or defending it has been a major topic of discussion this decade, so let's talk about it. New York has an unimpeachable music history, by far a towering meccah of cultural importance. But as many have pointed out so elequontly, New York doesn't exist anymore. That is, it is not a real place. Follow me here, CBGB's is a fashion outlet. The Village, Chelsea, SoHo, the Bowery, all impossibly priced and razed beyond recognition. Surely, history has not been totally scrubbed from the streets, but the narrative that starts there is dead, killed by gentrification or co-option or what have you. Totally inarguably dead. Brooklyn is maybe a place, but I have my doubts. Becuase I don't understand how it works. Does everyone's parent's pay their rent? Is there a 1:1 ratio of practice spaces to apartments? Does anyone have a real job? I ask these questions because from everything I see or hear, from the New York times to Pfork, Marnie Stern, to the lyrical content of Brooklyn bands themselves paints Brooklyn as fantasy world where everything and everyone is creative, vibrant, well dressed, in a band, an artist, a cloumnist, a dj, between 18 and 30. Whatever Brooklyn does is lapped up, documented, dissected, worried about, and praised. Like, this is where America's precocious navel gazing children go for life camp, and the media are their collective overbearing and exuberant parent's who force us to weigh in on every accomplishment and mishap. And the Times piece on the hipster paunch must be the watershed moment that forces a mea culpa on behalf of the media. Shit has to stop. Right? Homework assignment, someone tally up the Best New Music picks from the last two years, and see what percentage of the Americans are from New York. I took a passing glance, and it looks devastating.
   I'm not saying that New Yorker's aren't talented. Not at all, and the fact that Brooklyn's hegemony is so pervasive, just means bands will flock there, widening the pool of good music. But, there remains a serious lack of real life coming from Brooklyn. That is, most of these bands are deficient in speaking to any of the experiences of most of their fans. Either too vague and cryptic, or too ironic and overly clever.
   But enough about New York. Back to real life.
Let's talk about how we come into contact with new music these days. The Internet is the short answer, a longer answer would probably include our friends tastes, pitchfork, the New York Times, NPR, CW shows, Ipod commercials, blogs, etc. We can talk about the death of print music criticism, the dying music industry, obsolete physical medium, leaks and piracy. But what about the subtle personal shifts?
   When I was in high school, I had what is called an opinion leader, and his name was Andrew. By opinion leader, I don't mean that he made the opinions for his peer group, but he was the central source of information about music for a handful of his friends. Not only because he had good taste and intelligence, but also because he had a high speed internet connection, access to a credit card for online puchases, and a CD burner, all things I did not. I was what is called a low end technology user. A funny thing happened after I got my own computer and credit card and went to college, the balance of information and debate shifted. I had my own concurrent stream of new music and information, and began to stake out my own cultural individuality.
   I mention this because I think it's a nice little microcosm of the shift in the influence of music in social exchange. Andrew was like a record store clerk. He heard everything before you did, had access to albums you didn't, and his own opinions about what was good and bad. But like any record store owner, he was also curator to his friends and spread the gospel of good music, new and old. This was the story for a lot of kids interacting with music. There was a record store, an older brother, a cool friend, that girl you were interested in, etc. These people still exist for sure, and there will always be the guy or girl who just cares a little bit more than you, who will be more up to date. But access is more or less equal to all. This matters because it helps to obliterate time and place and the cognitive space of music culture. As Andrew deftly pointed out when talking about local music scenes, it's just as easy to have a scuzzy Philly noise rocker that actually lives in Minnesota as it is to have the Philly scene. Ok, Andrew I butchered your quote, sorry. But it's a good point.
   This is how Brooklyn exists in the minds of millions who have never been but dream about it. It is possibly even more real online and in our (my) fantasies than in physical space. Which makes the development of a local scene easier in one way, the fact that you can connect quickly and easily, and harder because why stick around your shitty town when urban escape fantasies abound. I know that people have always flocked to New York to make it. The difference now is that fantasy world is so reinforced by ubiquitous media, so much of it uncritical of the indie lifestyle, that anything outside of it irrelevant. There are exceptionms, but have you noticed how much these other scenes look identical to each other? What does this mean for independent music as a whole? Will kids chase the fantasy of bohemia and make the music of their heroes, or will they dig their heels in and say, this is where I am, this is who I am, enough with the bullshit?
   Nitsuh brings up another good point: what's at stake in taking a critical stance on an album or band. This has always been a part of the hipper than thou indie culture. But now, it's not just about taste, it's personal, it's political. You like Pains at Being Pure at Heart, fuck you, you're ruining music! You like the Black Lips, no you don't, not really, you don't actually listen to their records, fuck you, no one does. On one hand, as I get older I have the firm sense that I can listen to whatever the fuck I want more or less unapologetically.    And under the weird big tent-The Animal Collective, Deerhunter, Dan Deacon, No Age tent-this sentiment is the norm. You can like whatever, that's cool. As long as we're all cool about it, and politics of fame or influence aren't involved. But the problem is, those politics are omnipresent on the web, and to some extent, in real life.
   Consider Nathan Williams and his crimes. His biggest crime wasn't being an ass onstage, his biggest crime was being anointed by the hype-machine and not being genuflect about it. I don't mean to drag this episode out again, but I think it was one of the most interesting events this year. The scuzzy noisy rock guys (Psychedelic Horseshit, Black Lips) attacked him because he's a little spoilt bitch who can't handle his drugs. I also imagine a lot of those nice polite indie fans hated him for being such a rude little punk. And of all people, he would be the ideal mixture of the two camps Nitsuh talks about. Scuzzy, gruff, loud, noisy, on an honest to god inependent label(s), but also pop-accessible, popular, young and sorta attractive, sorta awkward. But instead, he was a mixture of the things both sides hated (so it seems), the unearned popularity, the self entitlement, the hipper than thou stance, the lack of technical proficiency, the hot chicks dancing absentmindedly at his show. And this is where I posit that the Nathan Williams Daytripping episode and subsequent breakdown (they are inseparable in my mind) act a cogent characterization of the indie world at that moment. Everything's there: the shit hot label showcase at SXSW, the hype, the token weird band from Philly with token unkempt hair that you're supposed to like, the burgeoning alcoholism, overly earnest MTV interviews, the vampirical bloggers, the insidious consumerism no one really seems to mind anymore, the awkward hip-hop fandom (and let's be honest, cool as it is, it's fucking awkward as all get out, just look at Jay-Z swaying to Grizzly Bear, awesome and awkward, which is I guess, what indie rock always kinda was).
   I watch this all and I think, this is real, this is what's really happening! The Smell, Todd P, Brooklyn, Baltimore, 'Loft Pop' are all real yes, but only for those who are actually there. For the rest of us in flyover country, they remain a distant fantasy. And yet something about the Kafkaesque spectacle of Nathan Williams failing to graciously navigate the unreal world of indie-rock hype strikes me as the unseen unheard underbelly to all this. He's was at the center of the disgusting circus, and just his ability to make people feel weird is admirable. That is, the argument about what's wrong with Wavves inevitably leads back to the argument about what's wrong with the music world that spawned him, and that's why I keep coming back to it. Also, god it's fun to talk about at parties.
   I think it's interesting that Anna has been pushed away from indie and towards Hip-Hop. Interesting because I've had my own initiation into Hip-Hop love and fascination. Interesting because lyrically speaking, Diamond District's In the Ruff has been the most relevant album I've heard (well, at least a tie with Merriweather Post Pavillion, which doesn't count cuz it's big and universal and stuff). And it hit's me that it's no longer hip-hop tourism anymore, and I feel oddly a participant. Oddly, because I know I'm outside the world of hip-hop fans and even further from street life. Then again, maybe not. I dunno. Maybe it's just a bit closer to my life than the aesthetic aloofness, niceness, and/or genre exercises of indie music.

A Review of Reviews of Bitte Orca, and Kind of A Review Too.

By now the merits of Bitte Orca have been expounded at length: Dave Longstreth is really brilliant, and this album is so sweet.
Of course it’s shortcomings are also flushed out and rationally articulated: That guy’s voice sucks.
I would like to first point out that neither of these opinions have anything to do with my own opinion on the Dirty Projectors, but rather what I have culled from reading the Pitchfork review, the Stereogum review, and the comments after the Stereogum article titled “Wait is Bitte Orca the Best Album of 2009?” (My personal response was “Wait, Is that The Worst Headline of 2009?”)
Then I would like to note that the praise of this album as previously stated still begs the question of why he is brilliant. The answer seems to be that he makes concept albums. No, no, not like Tommy, like, art-rock concept records. Dude’s got one about Don Henely. Wild right? Like how I just said “Dude”? Not an article to be seen. Street.
The detractors actually engage the music a little more, but kind of also miss the mark. Dave Longstreth has a really good voice by indie rock standards, he just seems either incapable, or more likely just uninterested in writing an actual melody (In my worse moments I think, Christ does he even plan? Has he ever sang a song the same way twice?). But his voice is fine, the best description is that he’s not Bjork, and someone needs to remind him. His guitar lines are also given to this proclivity. He’s a completely atonal shredder. Is this any more or less impressive than someone who creates more linear lines? For the moment let’s allow it.
Here’s where the real divide comes: if it’s art rock, all sins of atonality are forgiven. If it’s held to any other standard, Dave Longstreth probably needs fewer people to say that he’s brilliant, because what he actually is is unfocused. And yeah, the unfocused occasionally produce a DaVinci, but more often they give us golden retrievers. Here is where I propose that all music is art, and to call something “Art rock” tells us nothing about a music other than “You’re not going to like it the first [couple] times you hear it,” and this album is praised as being the DP’s most immediately likeable album, so you know, the statement’s kind of vacuous. As long as you accept that good music takes attention, and music should give back what you put in, the title “Art rock” should be written off as an insult, saying that the album in question is deficient in the category of “First Impressions.” It’s a shallow category, one that has more to do with someone’s mood, and even more to do with what they’re used to.
Music criticism most often seems to follow the formula of “back story, then comparison,” (except in the golden age of Pitchfork when it was more like “Personal anecdote + virtuosic string of contemptuous statements”), and to a degree I’ve gotten used to that, and can interpret fairly well what’s going on from this formula. But the reviews of the Dirty Projector’s new album were especially deficient. Can I for a moment try my own hand at reviewing?

Good effort, but the lack of [a linear] melody, in both the vocals and guitar lines amount to even the cathartic moments still being kind of tense. I think ideas here drag on a little too long, and that the instrumentation is only surprising in how little it surprises. So if you want a fun record, it’s occasionally kind of fun, and if you want to challenge your assumptions of rock music, this is about on par with the Red Eye’s crossword.

I'm rooting for them though. B minus. I know you can do better.