Albums of the Year:

1. PRIMAL SCREAM -- XTRMNTR. Consider this: "Shoot Speed/Kill Light" has perhaps the greatest pedigree of any song ever. The title is a copoff of the Velvets "White Light/White Heat", the song is the lovechild of WL/WH and Joy Division's "Incubation" (right down to the guitar solo by Bernard Sumner), and it's produced by Kevin Shields. What more could you POSSIBLY want in a song?

2. FLUXION -- VIBRANT FORMS II. It's "Adventures Beyond the Ultraworld" for the new breed of minimalists. Warm and hypnotizing throughout, with impossibly dense atmospherics beautifying the mix, this 130 minute opus is easily the most captivating techno released this year.

3. GODSPEED YOU BLACK EMPEROR! -- LEVEZ VOS SKINNY FISTS COMME ANTENNAS TO HEAVEN. Godspeed managed to lighten up a bit on the urban decay theme but still produced their most dramatic statement yet. Over four long, ultimately uplifting sides/symphonies, violins and white noise have never sounded so perfect together.

4. YO LA TENGO -- AND THEN NOTHING TURNED ITSELF INSIDE OUT. The greatest Velvet Underground record never made. Slow burning, creepy, heartfelt letters of love. Fifteen years and counting, YLT just get better and better.

5. V/A -- SEVERAL BANDS GALORE (The sounds of the bands of the MBV mailing list). This year's Verve release. Some of this album is merely OK-good. Much of it is spellbindingly essential. Eighteen bands find eighteen ways to show how much My Bloody Valentine have influenced them. Risk taking and new sounds abound. Someone sign these bands *now*.

6. GAS -- POP. One of the 45691 records that Wolfgang Voigt released this year, but "Pop" displayed an ambient, peaceful side that he rarely shows. Less lo-fi than previous Gas albums, but more melodic (hence, the tongue-in-cheek title). This is the fourth Gas release, and all four of them absolutely rule.

7. V/A -- CLICKS AND CUTS. Minimalism formed from, well, exactly what the title says. The disks could be labeled "conventional" and "abstract" but those are relative terms, because nothing here is the least bit conventional. "Clicks and Cuts" is rapidly becoming an adjective, a la "Basic Channel" and "Detroit".

8. SPEEDY J -- A SHOCKING HOBBY. Jochem Paap took his previous industrial/funk ideas, added some big, dirty beats and voila -- a little brother for last year's "Wireless" (by Luke Slater) was born. This is what big beat should have sounded like had it been worthy of any of the praise it was given.

9. THIRD EYE FOUNDATION -- LITTLE LOST SOUL. Matt Elliot dumped scraping and screaming for whispering and wandering. The anti-"Sound of Violence", if you will. Impossibly lonely and sad, this was the most aptly titled album of the year.

10. SOUND TRACK -- THE COOLER. After re-listening to every Basic Channel and Maurizio release, Savvas Ysatis decided he could do them one better by adding a smoother, house-y feel to those techno blueprints. An album which somehow manages to be stark and fun all at the same time.

I was reading a review of "Creation Records International Guardians of Rock and Roll 1983-1999" in Uncut magazine, and the review mentioned MBV's "You Made Me Realise" and "Soon" being on the compo. I couldn't believe it -- had I majorly screwed up and prepared an unwarranted spot in hell for Creation (DEC 1 comment above?)? Well, no. I don't know what they're selling in the UK, it wouldn't surprise me if the tracklisting is different but the version they're selling here has NO MBV tracks. Thus, that spot in the deepest depths of hell remains reserved, I just don't know who it's for. Whoever was in charge of the tracklisting, you suck. You suck worse than a farsighted eight dollar whore with two missing front teeth.

(later) I've come to the bottom of this, with help from news archives in nme.com (your web site rules, even if it does take forever to download). Alan McGee chose his favourite Creation tracks for the compilation. He chose THREE MBV tracks, "You Made Me Realise", "Soon" and "Sometimes". He chose only ONE Oasis track but three MBV tracks! These tracks did not appear on the compilation because they could not be cleared in time for the album's release. He even said (credit to nme) "(MBV) are a pivotal part of the Creation history, every bit as important as Oasis. They may not have sold as many records, but they have had an immense influence on so many bands. (The compilation) won't be complete without them". Also "I selected the three MBV tracks as I think they are probably my favourite Creation band ever". OK, so let's get this straight. MBV: notorious perfectionists/lazyitis sufferers, spent gargantuan amounts of Creation's money, leading to the main cause of McGee's near-breakdown, financial ruin and subsequent loss of indie status due to the partnership with corporate behemoth Sony. Oasis: notorious party animals/writers of mediocre Beatles homages, made back all the money that MBV lost a hundred fold, leading to McGee's considerable wealth. Which band would YOU favour? Sure, the fact he's financially secure means that he can be more objective and bear no grudges, but still, I gained a lot of respect for Alan McGee after reading those comments.

So whose fault is it for not clearing the tracks in time?

Someone collect my entries from today and December 1st and put them in the Oxford English Dictionary under "irony", because this is irony defined.

In part, at least, it's Kevin Shields' fault.

McGee claims that Kevin and Sony couldn't agree on compilation rights/royalties/what-have-you. Thus, Sony pulled the tracks.

Re: NME's top 20 Influential Musicians. The actual issue arrived this week, but when I read about it on the net a couple of weeks back, well, I was ranting and raving. Bowie as #1, that's a good choice. Radiohead as #2 is just sick. Radiohead more influential than Kraftwerk? Kraftwerk invented just about everything, whereas Radiohead invented an effective method of shoving their collective heads up their asses and recording the air rush of their own farts streaming through their empty heads. I knew that there was NOTHING that the magazine could say to convince me to budge one bit. So I bought the mag, and it goes something like "Just about every band in Britain are making music under the influence of Radiohead, they made stadium rock cool, etc.". First of all, if there's ANY prevailing trend in British rock right now, it's the popularity of bands writing simple, catchy, guitar pop, and THAT trend was popularized by Oasis (who were not in the top 20). Once Oasis became massive after the public chose their three chord jingles over Blur's more compositionally involved approach, it marked an end for cleverness and wit in mid-90's mainstream British rock. Second, stadium rock was cool long before Radiohead did it -- there was a REASON that they were constantly compared to U2 around the time of "The Bends". Third, countless "leftfield" British guitar bands of the last ten years were heavily influenced (to the point of outright COPYING in many cases) by My Bloody Valentine, The Stone Roses or the Smiths. All of them have been more influential than Radiohead, but the first two didn't even make the top 20!!

Random Monday thoughts: Spin magazine picked "Your Hard Drive" as the Album of the Year, dear god, I wish I thought of that, that's pure genius. They're right, of course, because the way that free downloadable music proliferated itself will come to be synonymous with the year 2000 -- far more so than any one music release. In a way it's a shame, because I think this has been one of the top two or three years for new releases in the last 20 years or so. That will likely be forgotten in the wake of the flowering of the Napster generation. I am swaying myself toward the opinion that the first 20 minutes of the Godspeed You Black Emperor! album is the best 20 minutes of music released this year. As for how the *entire* 85-minute opus compares the endless multitude of other outstanding *whole* albums of 2000, I am still undecided.

Creation Records has released a best-of-their-label double CD anthology. The lineup of Creation bands on the compo is truly stellar, but that's not what I'm writing about. I'm writing about the COMPLETELY INEXCUSABLE OMISSION OF MY BLOODY VALENTINE FROM THE COMPILATION. All MBV did was make the best records Creation ever released. OK, that's my opinion, but more objectively there's no arguing that MBV were a crucial part of Creation's history. And it's not like they got embarrassed about anyone and anything associated with early 90's shoegazing because Ride and Slowdive and Adorable, yes, that's right, ADORABLE, a band that did have many fine songs, but were unquestionably the Northside of shoegazing, a band whose name went from being the next big thing to being a "Be Here Now"-type embarrassment at the mere mention of their name, are right there in all their splendor. And it's not like they hold grudges against the bands that have since left the label, because SFA and Oasis are also featured. No, this is a motion by people within Creation to pretend that MBV never existed. They may be just a teensy weensy bit sore at MBV for nearly bankrupting the company by spending a quarter million pounds recording "Loveless" (had this happened, CD2 of the compo would not exist, yeah, I could see people getting upset at one band cutting the label's lifetime in half). Personal feelings aside, MUSICALLY, it's one of the stupidest omissions in the history of compilation albums.

I heard Jefferson Airplane's "White Rabbit" on the radio yesterday morning and it hit me. This is a blatant drug song, I thought. It blatantly tells, no, ENCOURAGES the kids to take drugs. What's more, this song (and many others of the time period with similar sentiments) is played at every oldies station on the continent. The same suits who fondly remember the 60's as a time of peace and love and experimentation balk wildly at the music of Marilyn Manson, Eminem, DMX because they claim that it promotes suicide, violence, misogyny and just about every other bad thing that a person could do. They claim that today's music is warping their kids' minds but are completely accepting of the glamourization of the late 1960's by oldies radio, passing it off as "fond remembrances" or some other confusing rhetoric.

At least the suspects I mentioned above bring an element of satire into their music. Marilyn Manson is eloquent and well aware of the absurdities of pop culture, most recently expressed in the single "Disposable Teens". Yes, the song is utter trite, but kudos to him for taking well-needed shots at such an easy target. Eminem's music is full of witticisms and caricatured celebrity satire. On the other hand, don't try and pretend that the Jefferson Airplane had ANYTHING deeper to say than "feed your head". And it doesn't stop there, because the 60's were full of songs containing this message and nothing more. Let's not get all fuzzy inside and pass these songs off as the good old days of pure and meaningful music when they are nothing more than drug glamourization relics written by hippies who were wasted most of the time which is why they couldn't think of anything more intelligent to write about.

New Musical Express has conducted a year-long poll to determine the 20 most influential acts on today's music scene. Who was polled, or how they defined "influence" will have to wait until the mini-site is posted tomorrow (Eminem was #8, seems a bit early to be labeling him as a major influence on anyone beside 15-old boys who have gotten bored of their Marilyn Manson records). Bowie is #1, which is a good choice, but there is no explanation on God's green earth that can convince me that Radiohead deserve to be #2. WHAT IN THE WORLD WERE THEY SMOKING? I'm actually at a loss of words and I'm angry as hell. The Velvet Underground and Kraftwerk invented everything, oh, yes, but Radiohead recycled 1974 Pink Floyd. And then they went electronic, which is groundbreaking if you went into a coma in 1973 and woke up last week. "The Bends" was a good album, and it would have been a lot better if Thom Yorke hadn't sung on any of it. "Pablo Honey" featured a passable rip-off of vintage Adorable, but the rest was filler. And as personalities, Radiohead make Belle and Sebastian look like Mogwai taking drugs with Happy Mondays in Leonardo di Caprio's flat. AAARRGGHHHH. Screw Radiohead ... no, it's not their fault ... screw everyone who picked Radiohead in this poll and screw their families too.

After the first few listens to PJ Harvey's "Stories From the City, Stories From the Sea", I was totally loving it (my initial reaction to each new PJ Harvey album is to declare that it is her best ever, with the exception of "To Bring You My Love", which took three years for me to fully appreciate. After a few months I always come to my senses and scold myself for ever doubting that "Rid of Me" wasn't her finest recording). My mate Paul, a far bigger fan of Polly Jean Harvey than I am, also thought it was a fine album, but remarked that the final two tracks, sweet ballads they may be, but "a bit too Sarah Mclachlan". And the more I've thought about it, the more I'm convinced that Paul may have summed up the entire album with that comment. One thing which has always separated PJ Harvey from the multitude of female wimp-rockers is the menace that she brings to her records. In the case of "Dry" and "Rid of Me" this needs no explanation, "To Bring You My Love" featured the fierce "Long Snake Moan", and femme fatales a plenty -- "To Bring You My Love" and "The Dancer" in particular. What's more, she dressed like a sexually repressed farmgirl dressing as a tomboy dressing in drag, and if that's not a person that you absolutely do NOT want to be alone with in the back seat of a parked car, then I don't know what is. Anyway, she started dressing normally for "Is This Desire?" which ranged from the near industrial "A Perfect Day Elise" to the plurality of "character" songs with their bleak tales of lonely, abused young women. Lighter on the menace but heavy on the eeriness. Fear abounded. Now comes "Stories" -- where is the fear? The music itself is very radio-friendly. It is far from the desolate electronic-tinged moods of "Is This Desire?". "Big Exit" and "The Whores Hustle and the Hustlers Whore" turn up the guitars but the Sarah factor looms large over the less aggressive tunes like "One Line" and "A Place Called Home". The menace presumably because this is a "New York album". Many people have written this but not a single person has defined exactly what "New York album" means, as if it were supposed to be obvious. I think it means "Velvet Underground", since they (and subsequent Lou Reed albums) are the finest examples of music about urban decay, drugs, the freaks who inhabit a city's underbelly, and introspection about all of the above. Polly was already an expert at writing about most of these, so I'm not sure how moving to NYC and mentioning Manhattan by name in her lyrics makes her new record so distinctly different from her others. As for the music, it's sounds more "Loaded"-era than EPI-era VU. At that point in the Velvets career, the songs were far less intense and the subject matter greatly toned down. The same could be said for the progression of PJ Harvey's career.

Then again, maybe I'm just a crybaby who's been waiting seven years for Polly to write another "Rub Til It Bleeds".

(That's all I have to say about PJ Harvey, but I would feel remiss if I didn't mention that she gets prettier as she gets older. I don't care how shallow and sexist that sounds.)

Dr. Andrew Weil made a double CD in 1997. Music "made" by a guru of alternative medicine -- I expected Indian drone instruments and nine hours of humming a single note. Actually, "Sound Mind, Sound Body" (or was it "Sound Music, Sound Mind" or ... oh, who cares what the exact title was) is 99% propaganda. One CD was mostly spoken word by Dr. Weil's friends, outlining their medicinal theories while speaking so slowly it makes "Eyes Wide Shut" seem like an afternoon at a cattle auction. The other CD was intended as healing through sound. From the extensively detailed liner notes, I surmised that the listener was meant to feel the vibrations, and the body would synchronize itself to the resonances, and heal itself, or something to that effect. But the music was an ordinary excursion through "themes" of Bach, Mozart and other mega-famous classical composers. Jeez, since that music is more than 200 years old, people must have been healing themselves with it for at least that long, in which case why on earth would anybody need to buy a CD from Andrew Weil? Millions of people have found themselves transported by Mozart's music, and they certainly didn't need Andrew Weil's approval. If they didn't want to make a recording of hundreds of people saying "AHMMM", if they wanted to put out a CD of classical music, wouldn't the music of a composer such as Debussy (La Mer) or Satie (endlessly repetitive piano pieces) have been more appropriate? If they REALLY wanted to convince anybody that music has the power to disrupt body chemistry, record some SCHOENBERG for God's sake!! I guess they figured that hardcore Andrew Weil fans would buy any CD with his name on it no matter how low the musical quality, hell, Limp Bizkit rode that pony to the tune of a million sales last week.

This weeks' purchase of Jeff Mills' "Live at the Liquid Room, Tokyo" was both elating and deflating for me. Elating because it is FREAKING AWESOME as our hero slams through the techno equivalent of the world's biggest gangbang with an incredible 38 tracks packed into 70 breathless minutes. Deflating because I clearly remember when this album was released *five* years ago. I remember thinking about buying it. Sometimes I had other musical priorities and would forget look for it and when I did remember it was always too expensive or some other excuse. I always kept my eyes open for his DJ appearances, and was finally all set to see him in January 1999 before a brutal snowstorm prevented me from doing it. I have yet to see Jeff Mills live. And now, even though I have his Axis compilations, even though I own a sick amount of minimalism, I willingly deprived myself of this album for five years.

George Michael commented the other day about the sorry state of British music, about how companies were signing "pretty young things" and not real songwriters, and he criticized the music listening public all over the world by saying that what they were listening to is crap. These comments are getting some publicity, mainly because it is George Michael, not because George Michael is a person with anything remotely interesting to say on the state of the music industry. Sure, it's true that minimal talent and a tight ass are big sellers these days, but let's face it, when has this NOT been true? Does anyone think for a single second that if Elvis or the Beatles or the Supremes or Michael Jackson had been 400 pound slobs with harelips that they would have become stars? Does George Michael really believe that Wham was signed because they were bright young songwriting talents, or because they were good looking teenagers that were marketable to a British public that adores it's squeaky-clean, made-for-tabloid popstars? George Michael is a wanker (pun very much intended) who is using his recent publicity as the buyer of John Lennon's "Imagine" piano to get on his soap box and pretend that anybody still cares about his opinion, all in the name of boosting his profile and (hopefully) his CD sales. Come on, Georgios, the current trend of Mickey Mouse pop will run it's course of mainstream mega-success, just like grunge, new wave and disco, just like all musical trends do, just like just like your career already has.

In the fall of 1994, I had a brilliant idea. While enjoying a passionate affair with Pulp's "His 'N Hers" album for most of that season, I couldn't help but hear something more than the obvious kitschy brilliance. I heard a musical. Not just any musical, but a musical based on the songs of "His 'N Hers". I used to pop the tape into my walkman and dream about it. Vaguely speaking (and truthfully, my adaption never went beyond the "vague" stage) it was an English version of "West Side Story", featuring the riff raff of Sheffield's underbelly. The hero (I never did come up with names for any of the characters) was a boorish thug who, along with his gang of similarly minded friends, did his damnedest to cause trouble, and treat women like Kleenex ("Joyriders" is the gang's mission statement -- serving the same function as "When You're a Jet"). Then, he falls in love and sees how the other half lives. It tears him apart that he loves her and yet she's hung up on other men who treat her like garbage (in the same way that he has been doing all of his life -- cue "Have You Seen Her Lately?"). He becomes a sentimental, whimpering shell of his former arrogant self (bring on "Pink Glove"). Of course, this musical can't have a happy ending. For one thing, "Happy Endings" foretells a conclusion which is never due to pass (smell the irony), and besides, "West Side Story" didn't have a happy ending, did it? Whatever their names are, the people featured throughout "His 'N Hers" are endlessly fascinating. This album is an untapped source of high musical drama, while the lyric sheet is practically it's own libretto.

My ideas may be six years old, but "Mamma Mia" made it to the stage first. It bears mentioning that I LOVE Abba's music, and I finally saw "Mamma Mia" last night. On one hand, Abba songs are pop music of the first order: exquisite specimens of melody and harmony and insatiably catchy to boot. On the other hand, the lyrics are not-so-exquisitely crafted by people with a limited grasp of the English language. Combined with a sparsity of topics beyond love and lost love, this makes a collection of these songs in-adept at telling a story, which means that Abba songs have no place in a musical. Watching the pathetically thin plot unfold while Abba songs were grafted on like tin foil to shag carpet ranged from awkward to embarrassing. And it is certainly NOT all in good fun, if it were SUPPOSED to be all about the songs, then we should be seeing an ABBA covers band, not a musical in which some semblance of drama and suspense and plot resolution and character development are to be expected. It all amounts to little more than karaoke with an extravagant budget. What's more, this production knows it because it does it's damnedest to distract you from what's being sung on stage -- from the over-the-top dancing in the background to the brightly coloured 70's jumpsuits to the men dancing in wetsuits and flippers -- all of it serves to provide fleeting entertainment value at the expense of having to pay any more attention than one would while watching showgirls in Vegas casino.

I won't quibble anymore (OK, maybe just a bit -- you'd figure they could find decent male singers, but maybe I'm wrong) but the take home message is that "Mamma Mia" offers Broadway-themed renditions of classic Abba songs and absolutely nothing else. Of course, in writing this I've let another cat out of the bag. Any enterprising theatre production company that wants to design another musical based on classic pop songs might want to call Pulp c/o Island Records.

I don't own too many rare records, but New Order's "Run 2" is one of them. Is it just me, or did the vinyl era produce far more rare, hard-to-find products than the CD era? Ten years from now, the CD era as we know it may well be over -- all new music will be downloaded from the internet and freely shared through programs like Napster. When those days come (sooner rather than later) will there be any such thing as a "rare" recording? With frightening ease, I have found songs through Napster that I failed to find with months, or even years of searching music stores. Thus, the concept of "rareness" comes down to analog vs digital. A rare, digital recording will become a non-entity, if it isn't already. Until every home has both a computer and a vinyl-pressing machine, vinyl will be the Taj Mahal of music collectibles.

Raves will continue to be held on City of Toronto property. But isn't it strange that Toronto made such a big stink about banning raves (because of the "rampant" drug use) while making an even bigger stink (of a different odour) about ALLOWING a different group of "rampant" drug users onto city property. While spending millions of dollars to campaign for it. While pledging to spend billions further to bring said drug users to our city. I'm speaking, of course, about the 2008 Summer Olympics.

Unfortunately, The Offspring were convinced by their record company that releasing their new album to the internet is not a good idea. They will be pre-releasing only one song. Of course, Columbia Records is currently knee-deep in the legal motions to shut down Napster ... what a neato little coincidink.

In the meantime, Pearl Jam released 25 albums yesterday. That is, they released a double CD live recording for every single show on their summer European tour. Why the wank-rock extravagance? PJ claim it's for the fans, who have now been rescued from the arduous task of having to track down low quality bootlegs.

Bull$h!+. They're not doing it for the fans, they're doing it for themselves. The band is aware that their fan base is as devoted as they come, and this is the perfect way to sucker people into dropping a whole whackload of money just in time for Christmas. PJ know that the bootleggers have made a killing off of taping their concerts, so why not give something back to the fans by taking all that bootlegging money?

The end result is that PJ will be seen as a joke. A sickenly grandiose statement that is the release of 25 live albums is especially ironic given the bands all-too-often-self-professed hatred of the music industry, namely, the labels that exploit them, the ticket sellers that rip off their fans, and the celebrity-hungry public that demands their heroes' precious time in the forms of videos and interviews. Yet that same band has made the biggest fart-rawk statement of the decade, a 50 hour (25 albums x 2hrs/album) bloated gesture that must have Jerry Garcia laughing in his grave, and worse, they've tried to pass it off as doing a favour to their fans, rather than a (misguided) attempt to boost their sales which have been declining since Clinton took office.

This morning, The Comedy Channel replayed the uncut version of Saturday Night Live from October 3, 1992. What's so significant about that date? Your host: Tim Robbins (promoting some movie that I can't remember for the life of me). Your musical guest: Sinead O'Connor. Yes, THAT episode. Sinead's actions at the conclusion of her second performance of that evening have become a "Where were you at the time?" moment for anyone born in North America between 1972 and 1976. Sure, it's a paltry legacy for our mini-generation, but it's the closest thing we have to Altamont.

Mike Myers (the pride of Scarborough) announced during the SNL broadcast that the Toronto Blue Jays had won the World Series. The response from the crowd was a healthy chorus of boos. My Canadian pride gravely insulted (this came in the wake of the Canadian-flag-hung-upsidedown Game 1 incident), I turned the channel, and thus, on October 17, 1992, I swore that I would never watch SNL ever again. I have watched it about three times since. I've been told that I haven't missed much.

Two weeks previous, I was watching SNL at home. Sinead O'Connor on the show, performing in support of her new album, "Am I Not Your Girl"? Her second song, was an eerie acappella, a chant perhaps. It seemed to be her usual "children are dying, war is hell" spiel. Most people considered her to be a preachy flake at the time. I was barely paying attention as the camera slowly panned in, until only her face and neck were visible. When a picture of the Pope appeared on my TV screen, my first thought was "I think she's up to no good". My second thought was "no matter what happens here, I doubt this segment will air again on TV". Sinead tore up the picture, proclaimed "Fight the REAL enemy!!", the live audience went deathly silent. She HAD been up to no good, NBC never aired the segment again, and Sinead's career as a mainstream artist/cash cow was finished.

Since that time, Sinead's life has been a real-life soap opera. I won't bother recapping it here. I will say that although "I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got" lives in over six million homes, it is hardly spoken of today. It sat untouched in my home for about four years before I rediscovered it in 1995. It is a damn fine album even ten years after it's release. Sinead O'Connor was, and is a, confused person, but no matter what happened in her personal life, she is a supremely talented musical artist. Many people won't appreciate her musical ability because they can't get past their preconceived notion that she is a wacko. Now, female artists like Alanis Morrisette, Gwen Stefani, Fiona Apple, Courtney Love, ....( you get the idea) go to great lengths to publicize themselves as left-of-centre wackos, and everybody thinks that it's normal for a female music star. Oh yes, Chris Farley and Phil Hartman are dead, and Tim Meadows is the only 1992 SNL cast member still on the show. And to think, it only took them eight years to think up a decent gimmick for him (and then he came down with not one, but TWO awesome gimmicks)

Now, eight years later, I watched the show with a far finer eye for detail than I had the first time. In his opening monologue, Tim Robbins speaks about General Electric, and how they don't just make kitchen appliances, they also make triggers for nuclear weapons ... of course, Tim is called to the back to be questioned by Lorne Michaels, and it all turns out to be a dream. So Lorne doesn't have to cut out Tim's monologue after all ... CENSORSHIP JOKE #1.

Much hilarity ensues, much of it courtesy of Dana Carvey with his dead-on Ross Perot and Dennis Miller impressions.

Tim Robbins appears in a skit in which he poses as the guitar-strumming "leader" of a group of white, racist, utlra-conservatives. The group is singing folk songs by a campfire, gleefully burning books all the while. Funny, but the political motive is far from subtle -- censorship = ignorance. CENSORSHIP JOKE #2.

Back from commercial, Sinead sings for the second time. I listen to what she's saying. As the camera pans inward, I notice that she's wearing a Jewish Star of David around her neck. Finally, as the song/chant reaches it's intense climax, as she urges the children of Ireland to fight back, she holds up the picture of the Pope, and I have to stand up and cheer. I'm not sure if I'm cheering due to CC's guts for airing this segment in it's uncensored entirety, or if it's more because I always agreed with Sinead on many of her religious principles. "God's place is the world, but the world is not God's place", was written in the liner notes for "I Do Not Want...", yeah, that works for me.

This episode of SNL was funny, but filled with political overtones in the light of the upcoming presidential election. But after all the jokes, the anti-censorship skits, the digs at Ross Perot and the Reagan-Bush regime, this show is only remembered today for ITSELF being censored. A fine example of modern day irony.

One day, I praise The Offspring -- whose music I loathe -- for their smart internet marketing tactics. The very next day, Barenaked Ladies -- yet another band that I hate -- announce their own internet "marketing" strategy, and it may be the stupidest music-related thing that I've heard this year. Well, it serves me right on a few counts, 1) for saying so many nice things about a crap band (The Offspring), 2) for forgetting to include BNL on the "Stooopid 2001" compilation ("Enid" would have been a cinch), 3) for writing about music for more than two years and until this moment, NEVER written anything about BNL, despite the fact that when I was a hardcore CFNY fan in 1989-1990, I was forced to hear songs from their 1990 indie cassette for what seemed like an hourly basis, and being too shy and unopinionated back then to stand on a table in the cafeteria in my high school at the peak of lunch hour and scream in my loudest voice (which is pretty damn loud, let me tell you) "Barenaked Ladies SUUUUUCKKKK!!!!!!" back in the days when people thought that "If I Had $1000000" was the funniest thing since Monty Python, oh but I could have stopped their meteoric rise back then because I KNEW that BNL belonged in the Supreme Hall of Fame of Universal Suckdom and I didn't tell everyone about it, oh the guilt.

So here it is. BNL are posting songs from their new album on the internet. Except that you can't actually download a complete song, you get a snippet of a song followed by the voices of Stephen Page and Tyler Stewart engaging in some light comedy banter about how what you are hearing is actually NOT a complete song but merely an advertisement for their new album, complete with silly jokes about trying to get their songs onto Napster and how tricky we Canadians are. These "Trojan Files", presumably, are intended as statements against widespread sharing of mp3 files across the internet, a process known to some greedy industry types as "piracy".

However, the band and their management believe that the Trojan files will also serve as dangling carrots, giving their fans a snippet of what to expect when they flock to the closest music shop to buy the actual CD. Except that these files are likely to PISS OFF THEIR FAN BASE more than anything else, which can't be an effective ad campaign, methinks. At the very worst, this can be viewed as the opposite of file-swapping -- BNL are holding their songs hostage, and are antagonizing their fans into paying a ransom at the closest HMV. Imagine watching the season opener of "Friends" and after the first five minutes, it cuts away to Jennifer Aniston in the NBC studios wearing a low cut top and she says "We hope you've enjoyed the first five minutes of 'Friends'. If you'd like to see the remainder of our exciting season opener, please call your local cable company. Oh yes, have your credit cards ready because that will be $15.99". No matter how much cleavage she was showing, or how many times she tossed her long tresses, it would ANNOY THE HELL OUT OF ME. Similarly, if I was a BNL fan I wouldn't need to be goaded into buying their album and if I were a potential new fan I'd think they were a bunch of Canuck arseholes and wouldn't think twice about buying their new CD, particularly when every band and their monkey's uncle, from Smashing Pumpkins to Blur ,is giving away entire songs and albums for free. No matter -- if BNL want to humiliate themselves in front of a potential internet audience of millions then I'm not going to stop them.

If someone were to compile a CD entitled "The Stupidest Songs of the Last Ten Years", around half of it would be songs by The Offspring. Yeah, I know, nobody in their right mind would use that title to sell a compilation CD. How about "Stooopid 2001"? Yeah, that would work (featuring "classics" such as "Come Out and Play", "The Thong Song" by Sisqo and "Gettin' Jiggy With It" by Will Smith, "Stooopid 2001" would probably sell by the cartload, proving once again that good music, like crime, just doesn't pay). Part of the irony is The Offspring themselves -- they are not stupid people. They are college educated, and in particular, singer Dexter Holland has a Ph.D. from Cornell in molecular biology. But dumbass music aside, The Offspring have come up with one of the cleverest marketing strategies I've ever seen. Their upcoming album "Conspiracy of One" will be available for downloading FREE on their website. Thus, it will be on the internet for several weeks prior to the album's official release. As if that weren't reward enough for Offspring fans, everyone who downloads the album will be entered in a draw for one million dollars. The draw will be held live on MTV when the album is released in stores.

The Offspring are exploiting the powers of the internet to garner FREE PUBLICITY. True, it's not exactly free (it will cost them a million dollars) but the band is smart enough to know that their actions will create a buzz amongst their fans, the internet community and the music community that defies pricetags. Most people will hear about this through a broadcast medium, not from an ad campaign spurred on by a publicist hired by their record company, and in that sense, the publicity is free indeed. This is not rocket science, in fact, all The Offspring are doing is sticking out their tongue toward the hand that has fed them. Two years ago, they pre-released "Pretty Fly (For a White Guy)" on the internet and it was downloaded 22 MILLION times in ten weeks. The hype they generated clearly worked -- "Americana" sold 10.5 million copies worldwide, about two or three times the total of their previous album, 1995's "Ixnay on the Hombre". You might question the majority of those increased sales being directly attributable to the internet, but why would you? -- the BAND clearly believes it, or they wouldn't be giving away a million dollars this time.

And that's not all -- to encourage fans to buy the CD in November, it will come encoded with a key that will unlock a special "fans only" portion of their web site, allowing ... *consumers* ... to access interviews, videos, chat rooms, etc. More kudos to The Offspring -- a marketing strategy for the Napster generation. This type of marketing approach may be the future of music sales, and if so, The Offspring are helping to lead the way. Now if only they could do something about their music ... [thanks to nme.com for the news story and providing the facts and figures included in this piece].

You can't argue with the pedigree of Snowpony. Featuring ex-MBV bassist Deb Googe, ex-Stereolab keyboardist Katherine Gifford, not to mention Tortoise mainman John McEnitire as producer for their debut album "The Slowmotion World of Snowpony". I finally got the opportunity to hear the album today, and what a waste of talent. I can't recall hearing a pop album by anybody, ANYBODY (except, perhaps for Stone Temple Pilots' "Purple" {shudder}) that was completely lacking anything resembling a decent tune, even for ten seconds. It was as stale as last summer's fruit crop, flat production, piss-poor vocal melodies that were close in spirit to a faked orgasm in a third rate porn flick -- a total wasteland of musical merit. Katherine has complained that Tim and Laetitia wouldn't let anybody else write the songs for Stereolab. No kidding, the forward-thinking first couple of caramel-coated futuristic Krautpop were concerned that her songs would scar their unborn child for life.

I have nothing against Maclean's magazine, but to paraphrase Public Enemy, "Maclean's is a great read for most, but it's never done $h!t for me ...". Until their article on the 25 coolest web sites introduced me to insound.com. Insound is based in New York City specializes in hard-to-find indie music. It reminded me of Other Music, an ultra-cool music shop with similar cred which I visited while in NYC a few years ago (OM is still the only shop I have ever seen with a "Krautrock" section). I checked out insound.com and put it to the test. You see, music snobs like me have our ways of determining if a music store is up to snuff. We look up a few "ultra-credible" bands (credible in our humble opinion) and observe the selection. I usually look up bands such as Joy Division, Velvet Underground and My Bloody Valentine.

Now for the true purpose of this article -- the CD I found while searching under MBV.

Clairecords has released a compo titled "Several Bands Galore Volume 2". It features the "sounds of the bands of the MBV mailing list" -- it says so right on the cover. That nine word sentence in quotations was all the convincing I needed. I ordered the CD. I didn't care if all the bands were unsigned. They love MBV, and have figured out 17 different methods of carrying on their legacy, therefore they are my brothers and sisters. Upon receiving the disc, the phrase "MBV Lovefest" became buzzwords in my house.

The diversity of the music on this CD is testament to the growing consensus that MBV's influence, like Bob Dylan's, is so widespread that it's almost invisible. There are Slint/Mogwai grinding dirges, FX-laden ambience a la early Labradford, and volume-power pop that MBV patented with "Isn't Anything". Taken as a whole, this 17-track collection is as patchy as you might expect, but the best bits are truly phenomenal. Some of them: * "Affect" by Lisa Johnson. One of the most gorgeous songs I've heard in the last couple of years, melting the rustic beauty of the Sundays with the aura from MBV's "Sometimes". This song was an instant addition to my shortlist of Songs That I Have To Hear More Than Once In A Row, along with (for example) "Laid" by James and "Here She Comes" by Slowdive. ** "This Feeling" by snowmobile. In which one Kevin Wood creates the lo-fi atmosphere to end all lo-fi atmospheres. Much like Flying Saucer Attack's "My Dreaming Hill" played through an improperly tuned AM radio. All the while, an eerie "whooshing" permeates the entire song, much like the guitar track during the bridge of MBV's "When You Sleep". Either Kevin Wood spent many an hour trying to create these sounds or he discovered it by accident while recording on the worst possible equipment. Either way, "This Feeling" is genius. *** "Epic" by Wail. A slow building instrumental propelled by an insistent acoustic guitar riff. The way the percussion and effects appear to drift in and out of the mix recall Fleetwood Mac's "Sara", oddly enough. Any track that starts soft and builds up to maximum volume is likely to be OK in my book. **** Other favourites include "Again" by Widescreen (say goodbye to Morcheeba), "Ends of Forever" by Fortean Halo (Faust/Spacemen 3 drone-fest), and "Moments In Space" by Rachel Goldstar (Labradford meet Pornography-era Cure in the planetarium). I eagerly await "Several Bands Galore" vols. 3-382.

Underworld's career thus far can be summarized by a delicious irony. They were boundary breakers in 1993-4 when they incorporated rock into their techno, at a time when everyone else produced pure, "banging" techno. Now, everybody else wants to incorporate rock elements into their dance music, and Underworld are producing pure, banging techno. The recent departure of Darren Emerson, the only member who had dance music credentials from the inception of Underworld Mark II, merely adds to the irony. Thus, with the live release "Everything, Everything", the band had a golden opportunity to introduce newer fans to older tracks like "Dirty Epic", "Spikee" and "Mmm Skyscraper". To rehash those relics from the days when their live sets were as predictable as the stock market. The days when they were known as renegades (or traitors, depending on the viewpoint) by triggering samples with guitars. Instead we have been treated to a set consisting almost entirely of (still excellent) tracks from their third, and least original album "Beaucoup Fish". "Rez" seems to be the lone survivor from the old days, indeed, omitting it from the live Underworld experience would be nothing short of criminal. But "Everything, Everything" could have been much more.

File under:supposed truisms "proved" wrong. In 1994, I was stuck in a peculiar mindset which can be summarized thus -- techno = value for money. Oh yes, techno was and is bloody fantastic music in it's own right, but it was also nice that most rock artists were constraining themselves to 45-50 minute LP's while techno artists preferred the more bloated 2xLP format stretching over 70-75 minutes. And a 70-minute album meant LONG SONGS, which are obsessions of mine, and have been since I first lost my mind listening to the Orb's "A Huge Ever-Growing Pulsating Brain That Rules From the Centre of the Ultraworld" in 1990. But I couldn't very well buy every CD with a 10-plus minute song, so I had to establish some guidelines. My one step guideline was simple: when listening to a long song, ask yourself -- does it NEED to be this long? Suppose it's fifteen minutes long. Could it have been edited down to twelve minutes, or even ten? Would it have been better had it been extended to eighteen or twenty minutes? I was so proud of myself when I sampled a Bedoin Ascent album and applied my principle for the first time. The album's final track was twenty something minutes long -- the mere thought of that huge number was making me salivate. The track had it's moments, but it seemed to meander. A fine melody soon gave way to a wibbly, directionless coda which twiddled on and on and on. Around the fourteen minute mark they'd run out of ideas. They were just coasting over the final minutes, and I'd had enough. On the other hand, tracks like Inspiral Carpets' "Further Away" (16 minutes) and The Orb's "Blue Room" (38 minutes) were chock full of ideas. Every second mattered. Editing either track would chop parts of the music that were absolutely necessary. It would be like cutting out portions of Beethoven's 9th (often lasting 70 minutes). "Hey, let's chop out some of the repeated phrases in the second movement. We can cut it from 15 minutes to nine and a half"! No!! Sacrilege!!!

BC-05, Cyrus: Inversion/Presence was released in 1994. The two tracks total 38 minutes. The tracks don't run short on ideas -- they ONLY HAVE ONE IDEA. And it would be a stretch to say that either track has a melody. "Presence" repeats four "notes" over the entire 20 minute side. Let's see, at 128 bpm, four "notes" = two beats, so that's 1280 repetitions. Erik Satie would be hard pressed not to keel over and pass out. "Inversion" has a bassline ... beats ... 18 minutes later ...

Minimalism falls outside my principle's jurisdiction. The length of time that a track runs is immaterial. The third minute of the track could be nearly indistinguishable from the fourteenth minute, I don't care. And often it is. I often wonder why Hallucinator's "Red Angel" doesn't continue for another ten minutes. Why Monolake's "Gobi" e.p. was 36 minutes long and not 24, 48 or 381. Hell, why did Brian Eno cut off "Thursday Afternoon" at 60 minutes? He composed the piece for CD, so he surely knew that he had at least another 15 minutes of space.

Anyone between the age of 25 and 30 remembers the first incarnation of the Manic Street Preachers. The "first incarnation" means the Richey James years, when the Manics were an exciting, confrontational band, not sweater-wearing AOR junk. Those very Manics released the 1991 single "Motorcycle Emptiness". It was almost instantly hailed as a classic. Perfect Smithsian melancholy. A depressing masterpiece. The song debunked the stereotypical rock and roll lifestyle. The fame, women, drugs, all of it collected into a single metaphor -- a motorcycle -- and passed off as meaningless and emotionally empty. Taking nothing away from the Manics, who composed an excellent single, but Yo La Tengo beat them to the punch when they released "Speeding Motorcycle" the year before, in 1990. And THAT was a cover version in itself -- a version of West Virginian singer/songwriter Daniel Johnston's 1983 tune. The two songs are almost identical in sentiment. Both songs take the motorcycle -- a symbol of speed and wild living -- and deglamourise it completely. The motorcycle may be fun but it is also extremely dangerous. The solution, somewhat predictably, is love life without taking unnecessary chances. Long time Manics fans are advised to seek out the "Motorcycle Emptiness"'s older brother.

The Great Napster Debate continues as the MP3-sharing program has received a reprieve and will stay active at least until the case comes to trial. The core issue -- consumers obtaining music without paying proceeds to the artists that made the recording -- is not new, as it's just a variation on the home taping "scare" of the 70's and '80's and the never-to-be-settled "problem" of bootlegging. Yes, MP3 files are digital recordings, which means they can be copied over and over without any loss in sound quality. Yes, it is not difficult to envision ALL music being traded digitally, because after all, it IS digital, so what's the point of spending $1.70 to get on the subway and physically bring myself to HMV if I can download the same product while sitting at home in front of my computer? This merely shows that copying MP3 files is easier and of better quality than the tried and true methods of home taping and bootlegging. However, the driving force behind all three is FREE PUBLICITY. Collectors have based an entire counterculture around tracking down hard-to-find concert bootlegs. Artists don't receive a cent for them, but bootlegs pad their fan base, spawn a cult of mythology around the artist and generally raise their profile amongst fans and critics alike. What's to complain about there? Similarly, home taping is a complete non-issue if NOBODY WANTS THE RECORD. Metallica might bitch and complain about kids downloading their albums for free, but they're only doing so because Metallica's music is in demand. Metallica must be doing SOMETHING right if so many people want their music. If people want their music, then they'll want to attend gigs, buy merchandise, etc.

On a different, but related topic, word-of-mouth popularity, or "coolness" if you will, correlates little with actual popularity, or "sales". Just because bootleg albums CAN be found, doesn't mean everybody WILL buy them instead of trekking to the closest music outlet. Just because my FRIEND bought the Britney Spears album doesn't mean I am going to tape it off her rather than buy my own copy. And just because I can sample tracks from the upcoming Madonna album using Napster doesn't mean I'll never buy that or any other Madonna CD. The Velvet Underground are one of the most namedropped bands ever. Musicians love them, critics purr over them and fans revere them. From all that has been written about them, you'd think the whole world must have heard their music by now. You'd think the band would be bathing in royalties. Surprise -- "The Velvet Underground and Nico" has sold in the neighbourhood of one million copies. Yeah, that's a lot of records, but it means that the VU are roughly 1/50th as popular as the Backstreet Boys.

Sometime this week, the Toronto city council will finally come to a decision regarding raves being held on city property. No matter what they decide, raves will still go down each and every weekend. They'll just move further underground, away from the Better Living Centre and back into basements and warehouses. Every Queen Street store will carry dozens of rave flyers and promoters will continue bust their asses to promote their parties no matter what a bunch of politicians have to say about it. If all this is true, then why should we care about the city council vote? The answer, Watson, is PRECISELY. Why should we care? When a DJ is spinning in the city, and you really want to hear that person, WHO CARES if it's on city property or in a promoter's backyard? Similarly, if a band I love plays in town, if I want to see them badly enough, the concert could be anywhere from Sneaky Dee's to Skydome -- I couldn't really care less.

The issue is drugs. Ravers want to do them. At the same time, they want raves to be safe. This requires responsible event security, which is assured on city property but a dicey issue on private property. However, a rave is only as safe as it's ravers. If there were no drugs present, then the need for security would not be as stringent and first aid concerns would also be at a minimum. With drugs comes the preventative babysitting -- from the security to search for them to the first aid personnel to care for the casualties. Thus, the push to continue to hold raves on city properly is (at least partly) based, albeit indirectly, on the want to have the city chaperone the parties, rather than the promoters. Then, if anybody dies from a drug overdose during a city-approved rave, guess who gets the blame? That's right, the net effect is a transfer of blame from the ravers and promoters to the city of Toronto.

I've read countless newspaper comments from people in the scene that read "Kids come to raves for the music, they don't come for the drugs. Raves are safe, and drugs are not widely used". But if this were true, then the impending city council vote would be anti-climatic -- a minor issue. But it is not, is it?

Drugstore return with a new single on September 7. Their comeback will be a source of stress for me, as the forthcoming album will be their third. I don't think you can become truly comfortable with a band until album number four. The debut is obviously stressful because it's their FIRST TIME. Who knows how it's going to turn out? For the second album they have to conquer the sophomore jinx. When the third album comes out, it's a question of whether or not the first two were lucky accidents (and the band is now passe) or if they're really in it for the long haul. I recall being nervous as hell when Spiritualized's "Ladies and Gentlemen..." was released, for despite the fact that the first two Spiritualized albums were outstanding, I was deathly afraid of the post-sophomore letdown. It would have partially invalidated the previous five years of listening to them, for how could I say their name with my head held high if I knew they had gone to crap? Well, Drugstore have reached that exact stage in their career. Their eponymous debut was, quite simply, the best debut album since Joy Division's "Unknown Pleasures". The follow-up, "White Magic For Lovers" was a fine album, but for various reasons (i.e. a colour-by-numbers fascination with the production on Radiohead records, happy songs, etc.) it was a noticeable step down from it's predecessor. The third album will settle the following question once and for all: are Drugstore one of the most talented bands in Britain, or was their debut album merely one of the biggest flukes in the history of recorded music??

The eve of the fourth SFA show in Toronto in the last 15 months: In December, the NME stated that SFA were "easily the best band never to have changed anybody's life". I concur -- but I can't hold it against the Super Furries. Five people as intelligent as the members of SFA know that they won't change the world with songs about magic scissors and mobile phones. Any band that is so in touch with these elements of pop culture knows, basically by definition, exactly where their songs fit in the grand scheme of the universe. Perhaps not so with Mogwai. The five lads from Glasgow are (collectively) the Alex Rodriguez of rock -- perhaps the best band in the world despite being only in their early twenties. Their main weakness is that they might, just might, possess an elevated sense of their own self-importance. From their lengthy hate list to their undying support of their post rock peers (culminating in their widely praised All Tomorrow's Parties festival), Mogwai are less a band than an agenda. Even though last years' "e.p." is their strongest musical statement to date, it's a short jump from the blissfully controlled calm of "Stanley Kubrick" to the self indulgence of recent Sonic Youth releases.

One of the things I don't understand about music journalism: Moby is the latest example of a just-outside-the-mainstream artist who has achieved sales success without major airplay. The key word in that last sentence is "latest". If it happens almost every year, why are journalists always surprised? More precisely, if it happens every year, why do they make like it's the first time with each and every occurrence? By 1991, NIN's "Pretty Hate Machine" had gone platinum in the US -- remarkable since this was pre-grunge, pre-Lollapalooza, pre-alternative. By 1993, the Cranberries quietly sold almost two million copies of their debut album "Everyone Else is Doing it, Why Can't We?". Now Moby's "Play" has quietly gone platinum, and the mainstream press is finally waking up and smelling his success. Don't sound so surprised! We've seen all this before!

Alan Cross, "Ongoing History of New Music" mainman extraordinaire, is an ass. I could busy myself writing these short columns each and every week after listening to his radio show. He riles me up. Rather than sit here each and every week and criticize his smugness and attack the ludicrousy of some of his opinions, I'll get it off my chest in one sitting.

Last Sunday, Mr. Cross did a show as part of a series of the all-time top 25 New Music artists. I believe this series was first aired several months ago, but I can only bear to listen to CFNY once every several months so bear with me. To stray from my main point for a moment, just what in the hell does "New Music" mean in 2000? For one thing, the use of the term "new" is insulting much in the way it has been applied to the word "Testament", it suggests everything that came before it was "old", meaning "no longer relevant". It is also shortsighted, for just as so-called "oldies" stations lead you to believe that music ended around 1974, Mr. Cross (and CFNY, by extrapolation) lead you to believe that music sprung from a vacuum around 1977. Finally, the term is only slightly less outdated than Mr. Cross' mustache. Who, besides him has used the words "New Music" in a sentence since 1983?

Now to my point. Smashing Pumpkins were on the top 25 list. Why do they deserve to be there? What was the source of their greatness? What were their grand innovations which influenced so many of their peers? According to Mr. Cross, one reason is that Billy Corgan made it "cool" to like terminally "uncool" '70's bands such as Queen, Kiss, and Judas Priest. I agree with this statement. Another of his statements was way off the mark: SP's sound has been copied all over the world.

There is some truth to this, as anyone who has heard The Cranberries "Zombie" can attest. However, SP's sound is not, and I repeat NOT NOT NOT highly original. Just because Presidents of the USA and Blink 182 ripped off Green Day's sound makes Green Day influential, I suppose, but it does NOT make them original in any way. And shouldn't we be holding our all time top 25 to higher standards than that?

SP, perhaps more than any other band in the 1990's, were generous in citing their influences (as was inferred two paragraphs ago). Of course they ripped off the '70's stadium rock bands -- just listen to all those power ballads on SP albums. Of course they ripped off guitar innovators such as Husker Du, Sonic Youth and My Bloody Valentine -- just about every '90's rock band does (whether they know it or not). Indeed, the aforementioned three bands are the true sound innovators. No band can vulture that claim via increased popularity.

Now, to prove that I am part of the solution, not merely part of the problem, here are some *proper* reasons why SP deserve to appear in the top 25:

1. They made it cool to like "uncool" bands (already mentioned)
2. They were one of the only bands closely associated with the grunge scene that were not from the Seattle area

3. They paved the way for hugely successful rock bands to explore rock/electronica hybrids

Arguably, Goldie and MBV are the only artists ever to create and destroy a genre of music with consecutive albums. The folks at Select were kind enough to remind me that "Saturnz Return" exposed drum 'n bass as electronic prog rock. This effectively limited anyone's ability to take drum 'n bass seriously. On the other hand, "Loveless" effectively limited anyone's ability to take Ride, Lush and Chapterhouse seriously.

How ironic that Noel leaves the Oasis world tour during the same week as Billy Corgan announces the breakup of the Smashing Pumpkins. Both bands have had a history of infighting -- frankly, nobody with a casual interest in either band can be too surprised as to either of these announcements. Toward the end, both bands pretended to be something they are not -- a cohesive unit in the case of the Pumpkins, and a five piece band in the case of Oasis (as opposed to Noel Gallagher's songwriting ego). Due to these recent events, the critics will have the last laugh. Those who claimed that SP have been less a band than a showpiece for Billy Corgan's ego can now claim they were right all along. Those who claimed that Oasis have been less a band than a seven year ongoing Celebrity Deathmatch between Liam and Noel can also toast themselves. They say you can only fool most of the people for some of the time -- no reason to believe that rock bands are the exception to this rule.

I haven't yet heard any of Sonic Youth's "NYC Ghosts and Flowers", but from the reviews, it sure sounds a lot like Mogwai, doesn't it? "Washing Machine" sounded exactly the same as "Daydream Nation", so after coming full circle over the course of those seven years, SY finally took cues from the Bristol and Chicago lo-fi scenes, i.e. they finally fed back sounds from bands who they profoundly influenced back into their own music.

A significant phase of Tindersticks' career is over. They certainly haven't lost a step with their music, as last year's excellent "Simple Pleasures" proves in spades. When holding the liner notes, well, it doesn't have the feel of a typical Tindersticks release, I mean, what's this: only nine songs! song take numbers!!, this is the band that wouldn't print their own names, but the name of their tailor was there in black and white. Welcome to the Tindersticks glastnost era. If only CF GF, the album's final track and perhaps the finest song of the band's career, didn't sound so elegiac. It sounds like the end, like a goodbye, it's ending rambles on beautifully, proudly overstaying the typical welcome of a 'Sticks song. It recalls the way Suede's "Still Life" said goodbye. In hindsight, we now know that it was the end of Suede:Era 1, not the end of Suede. Hopefully the same applies for the Tindersticks.

Toni Braxton's music is often not very interesting, but her uncanny ability to shed more and more clothes with the passing years certainly is. It seems she feels upstaged by the likes of Mariah Carey and Jennifer Lopez, who get more and more naked with each video. The top she wears on the cover of her latest album covers approximately one fifth of her chest and likely contains less material than Ms. Lopez' now famous Grammy "dress". At this rate, female musical divas will be performing naked in the year 2007. I also expect pasties by 2004.

RIP Ian Curtis, 20 years ago today. We should all listen to Unknown Pleasures before going to bed tonight.

Blondie's "Rapture", released in 1980, is a near singular release in the history of music. It is a remarkable case of a very, very mainstream act paying homage to a very, very underground movement. Who, outside of select circles of people in New York, even knew what hip-hop was in 1980? I remember becoming acquainted with the video around 1983, and I've never been sure why I didn't consider it to be radical -- everyone's favourite musical sex kitten, Debbie Harry, was slumming it with graffiti artists in some dimly lit after-hours location. The mind struggles to come up with a possible contemporary culture clash. Christina Aguilera going trance? AC/DC doing drum 'n bass? The closest examples in recent times are Madonna's take on electronica on "Ray of Light" and Bowie going jungle on "Earthling". However, these albums were career resurgences by their respective artists. On the other hand, "Rapture" featured Blondie at the peak of their commercial viability. Also, while Bowie and Madonna looked to increase their hipness quotient by embracing electronica with a considerable amount of fanfare, Blondie did no such thing. Hip-hop was years from being trendy and their recognition of it presaged that of any other mainstream group by a considerable margin.

Is there any originality left in British rock? It all went downhill after Oasis. They are not musically inventive or lyrically adventurous. They write simple three chord singalongs. In the golden days of Britpop, Blur fastidiously ripped off the Kinks, but the songwriting arrangements were exquisite, and such attention to detail is not at all common. Now, Travis write simple three chord singalongs. Catatonia write simple three chord singalongs. Stereophonics write simple three chord singalongs. Yes, the songs are frequently great. But it's the slightly different sketch on a single template.

Music performers don't seem to admit it, but "intangibles" contribute a lot to the quality of their songwriting. Noel Gallagher may think his band is "mega", but it's obvious that the message in their music was more genuine when they really were working classmen, rather than just writing songs about it. Similarly cast out is Gordon Gano of the Violent Femmes, to nobody's surprise, it's far less poignant (and considerably more eerie) when you're 40 than it is when you're 20 to be singing about not being able to get the girls. These are but two examples, but it the concept is itself not surprising to a blues fan. When you're Robert Johnson, growing up poor, son of a plantation worker, the blues are for real. When Eric Clapton plays the blues in the spacious, air conditioned Royal Albert Hall, it's a notable suspension of reality. That's why I still chuckle when I hear his version of "Hoochie Coochie Man", right at the point when he says "I wanna make pretty womens". Gets me every time.

Having just seen "High Fidelity", I feel inclined to contribute a couple of Top Five lists to society:

TOP FIVE B-SIDES, 1990's

1. Drugstore -- Accelerate

2. Suede -- The Living Dead

3. Stereolab -- Tempter

4. MBV -- Moon Song

5. Orbital -- Sunday

TOP FIVE PULP LYRICS

1. Pink Glove

2. Disco 2000

3. Joyriders

4. Dishes

5. Something Changed

Hate and discrimination exists. Hate and discrimination is bad. Often, in protest to the world's injustices, old farts like Sting write some sappy song asking people to start being nice to each other. Every once in a long while, someone comes up with the ingenious idea of combating hate by throwing hate right back where it came from, even more hateful than before. One such record is the "Rage Against Nazis" ep by Katharsis, perhaps the most visceral recording ever. Then there is "Swastika Eyes" by Primal Scream, perhaps the best single released in the last three years. Preposterously aggressive and impossibly loud, spitting out venom along the lines of "a military-industrial illusion of democracy", it breathes, sweats and bleeds reciprocal hate. Why be diplomatic when you can say "we see through all of your bullshit, you stinking Nazi motherfucker"!!!! Obviously, in real-life politics, this type of reaction is not feasible. In music, such binding restraints don't exist, and that's why "Swastika Eyes" sounds like such a damn important piece of music.

In a somewhat distorted fashion, Lou Perleman is the Phil Spector of the late 1990's. Lou is the fuhrer of today's boy bands in much the way that Spector owned the girl group scene in the early 1960's. Lou isn't nearly as famous as Phil was in the latter's heyday, but this could be chalked up to two factors: 1) Lou's a lot older than his proteges, 2) Lou's been fired by many of his proteges. Whereas Phil was a tyrant within the recording studio, Lou is a tyrant (by all accounts) everywhere but. And as for his own personal fame -- he may be elevated with the ABC series "Making the Band".

Somehow, I've always associated Third Eye Foundation with abrasive guitar terrorism over nosebleed breakbeats. In fact, the number of such TEF songs can be counted on one hand. Of course, the first 20 minutes of "Semtex" and the mind-blowing "Corpses As Bedmates" (from "Ghost") make a long lasting impression. However, "Corpses As Bedmates" can now be viewed as a sign-off, Matt Elliott waving goodbye to his lo-fi roots with his finest statement of anarchic noise. Finally, on this this year's "Little Lost Soul" he's composed an full flow of an album, rather than a seemingly unrelated consortium of tracks. The album is like a dream, scenes slowly fade to grey and then a new one appears, each lonelier than the one before it. Whereas the "Sound of Violence" EP evoked physical pain, "LLS" evokes emotional pain. Like the final scene of "The Rocky Horror Picture Show", in which Brad and Janet aimlessly crawl in circles around a fallen Dr. Scott, it's the sound of sweet confusion and aching memories which won't get out of your head. And yes, like that scene in "Rocky Horror", there's a tongue-in-cheek element as well (just look at some of the song titles).

Kevin Shields is playing UK gigs with Primal Scream. This must be a wet dream.

I can scarcely believe that I am about to write this, but "That's the Way It Is" is surely the best Celine Dion song ever. Nobody can dispute the fact that she has a wonderful voice, but when she uses it to peddle the inane sappiness of "My Heart Will Go On" it makes me cringe the way Whitney Houston once did with "I Will Always Love You". Celine has rediscovered her dance pop side which she abandoned sometime in 1995, just in time to compete with the Jessicas and Christinas of the world.

Nobody associates a bands' "greatness" with their lyric writing ability. The Beatles are an excellent test case. There is no dispute that they were an excellent band, but their lyrics are often atrocious. They began with simple teenybopper "I love you, I don't love you" sentiments, but that's what everybody was doing then so this can't be held against them. During the Rubber Soul/Revolver period their lyrics were at their peak, from the biting social commentary of Taxman to the thinly veiled confessions of "Norwegian Wood" to the serene simplicity of "Here, There and Everywhere". Then it all went horribly wrong. Take the White Album as an example. Clearly there are exceptions (Julia, Blackbird, etc.) but for the most part the lyrics are incessant streams of directionless, and frequently ridiculous storytelling. Is John making any sense at all during "Glass Onion" or "Happiness is a Warm Gun"? Paul is bitten by the bug as well -- what on earth are we to make of "Rocky Raccoon"? Has anyone, save Charles Manson, been enlightened by the lyrics to "Piggies"? The White Album is an album of musical genius -- likely the best thing the Beatles ever did -- but is also an album of frequent lyrical tomfoolery. Must have been the drugs.

What exactly is the difference between Much Music and Much More Music? Not much, as far as I can tell. MM plays Korn, and M3 doesn't. Oh yeah, M3 plays the Backstreet Boys, but they never visit. Interestingly, MM's upcoming Sandjob exclusively features the bands that M3 doesn't play.

I have figured out why Korn exist. Korn exist so that young people threatened by genres such as pop and techno can say "See? Rock rulz man!"

I don't understand Yo La Tengo. They have no truly unique musical ideas. Everything they do has been done before by MBV, Velvets, etc. So why are they so freaking brilliant? Has any band ever combined this lack of originality with such brilliant songs? Their latest album delivers on what they teased throughout the 1990's -- capturing the atmosphere of the third Velvets album. YLT should have copied the liner notes from Spiritualized "Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating In Space" for their latest opus, because anyone listening to it is bound to develop withdrawal pains, lose sleep and feel disoriented. YLT are the ultimate example of borrowing a template and running with it. Forget that it sounds like something you've heard before. The sound you hear is the sound of magic.

Stereolab's "Cobra and Phases..." has been out for a few months now, and it continues to sound better with each and every listen. ETK has been acclaimed by the general public as their best album, I've always felt that the more hardcore set preferred their earlier material. Furthermore, the hardcore set has viewed their post "Mars Audiac Quintet" material as being a significant decline from their earlier Can-NEU!-Faustian tunes. Admittedly, I was of the same opinion, for the blatantly Can-inspired "Metronomic Underground" and the blatantly NEU!-inspired "Noise of Carpet" far outshone most of the experimental pop leanings of the remainder of ETK. I'm finally a believer in their new direction. Whereas "Dots and Loops" tended toward eclecticism to the point of navel-gazing, "Cobra and Phases" combines the anodyne melodies from "Music for the Amorphous Body Study Centre", with the funkiness and tranciness of classic Can and Faust which made us love them in the first place.

Ha! I've been saying for years that Kevin Shields' brand of guitar noise is hugely influential on the way ALL rock music is conceived and recorded today. Now, after absorbing Primal Scream's (excellent) new album, on which Kevin Shields does production work, hopefully the rest of the world will realize that the experimental, eclectic style of recent Blur, SFA, and the Scream is the TRUE future of rock, not Radiohead and Oasis' take on 60's and 70's nostalgia. Critics are finally coming on my side -- they all write that the Scream album is noisy, noisy, noisy terrorism and bloody great for it -- remember, you all heard it first from me, hail Kevin Shields, the most powerful force in rock!!

I've discovered the deep connections between the founders of techno and the founders of quantum mechanics. Schroedinger/Atkins: The genesis. Formulated the first quantitative model. Heisenberg/Saunderson: A different picture of quantum mechanics -- Saunderson used the house/R&B roots of techno, as opposed to Atkins futuristic bent (of course, the trainspotters know that the H picture of QM is really due to S, similarly, Atkins funkier exploits with Clear in the early 80's predated Saunderson's Inner City material. Incidentally, Atkins 1999 "Body and Soul" returns to the gritty, funky, R&B feel which was not featured as strongly in his late '80's Model 500 material). Saunderson and Heisenberg had more mainstream success with their work than the others. Dirac/May: The field assumes its modern form. The models/notations/rules they invented still exist today.

While flipping through the Oasis interview in this month's Uncut, I found a piece of journalism I've waited five years to read -- the acknowledgment that "Morning Glory" was panned upon release and applauded once the record buying public made the band filthy rich. And the opposite for "Be Here Now" (including the part about getting rich). I'd honestly thought that every journalist on the eastern side of the Atlantic had forgotten these facts. I thought revisionist history had been completely ingrained in people's minds. Anyway, no real revelations from Noel regarding the subject but kudos to the journalist for bringing it up.

Imagine Lou Reed's "Berlin" produced by Martin Hannett. Rather than commercial 70's rock production set to sad stories, we'd have had true echoey isolation. Jeez.

I finally realized why Smashing Pumpkins' "Perfect" has always sounded so familiar to me. It sounds just like Petula Clark's "Downtown"!! Think about it!!!

Duran Duran's "All She Wants Is" was way ahead of its time. It was dance-rock back when that term actually described something concrete. Featuring a unique combination of an atonal vocal melody, fuzzed out guitar and synthesizer noise, it's not that far removed from the recent Primal Scream material. Of course, with dance and rock being yin and yang to anyone outside of Manchester in 1989 (not to mention the prodigiously crap video), the Duranies never had a chance.

Notice how much Filter's "Take a Picture" sounds like MBV's "Don't Ask Why"?

While listening to the "Skampler" today, I recalled my proclamation of one year ago, stating that the Skam label was the future of techno. Somewhere in the multitude of German minimalistic techno CD's that I bought since then, I appear to have lost the plot. Or maybe not. Skam's artists employ beefy, irregular, electro/hip-hop influenced rhythms, while the Chain Reaction/EFA bunch employ rippling, irregular, echoed rhythms. In either case, the music has been stripped down to it's barest beats, while maintaining a distinctly electronic feel. More though required.

While listening to the "Skampler" today, I recalled my proclamation of one year ago, stating that the Skam label was the future of techno. Somewhere in the multitude of German minimalistic techno CD's that I bought since then, I appear to have lost the plot. Or maybe not. Skam's artists employ beefy, irregular, electro/hip-hop influenced rhythms, while the Chain Reaction/EFA bunch employ rippling, irregular, echoed rhythms. In either case, the music has been stripped down to it's barest beats, while maintaining a distinctly electronic feel. More though required.

I finally landed the single "House Music", by Eddie Amador. I've spent a good year and a half looking for it, ever since hearing the white label for the first time in a Montreal club. And when I asked the DJ for the name of that incredible house record, I was more than a little shocked at the response. Because it takes a lot of audacity to title a record "House Music". There's a record called "Techno Music", by Model 500, and techno music (the genre) was named after it. Wayne Gretzky had to be pretty damn good to earn the nickname "The Great One". What made Eddie Amador, then a relative unknown, think he had any justifiable claim to the title "House Music"? Now, I say I was shocked at the title, but of course I'd already heard the record, so I knew how well the shoe fit.

Godspeed You Black Emperor! might be the smartest people in this country. They know that if (when?) the world goes to hell, it won't be because people like Bill Clinton are getting their dicks sucked by interns. It's because the prevailing attitude down south is one of blind patriotism, a place where people carry guns like they were pocket change, a place where figures of authority are given no respect, and every man believes he is both above the law and an island unto itself.

Aphex Twin's "Selected Ambient Works II" got a bit of a bum deal. "SAW I" got a great deal more attention, likely because Aphex's material was so hard to come by at the time. SAW I makes for a great listen, but it's MOR Aphex Twin, not too abrasive, not too experimental, not too ambient, not too bonkers, and not too intense. SAW II is all of those things in spades, which makes it far less accessible. Not too many folks enjoy the feeling of "standing in a power station for two hours on acid". Still, that exact feeling, enacted so powerfully on SAW II, is far stronger than anything evoked on SAW I.

While walking to Tower Records, I was thinking about how the Smiths and New Order each released several singles in the '80's that were not on albums. Why doesn't anyone do this anymore? True, the market is very album-based now, but it was in the 80's as well. The discrepancy between the prices of albums and singles is small on our side of the Atlantic, and is large on their side. This explains, for example, why bands in the UK will release many singles before finally delivering the album. It doesn't explain why all the singles eventually turn up on albums.

Irony was all over Much Music on Saturday. A fourteen year old girl in 2000 would hardly blink at the sight of a Take That video. When those videos came out (1992-3), MM wouldn't have touched them with a ten foot pole. Back in those days, the catchy melodies of TT would have broken the monotony of the continuous loop of Pearl Jam and Stone Temple Pilots videos, and anyone who remembers those days knows that the slightest bit of cheeriness in music was commercial suicide akin to sticking by your boyfriend after he's arrested for firearms possession. Now, TT clones The Backstreet Boys are MM's flagship band. In fact, without BSB, the name of a certain MM VJ might forever have carried the suffix "the Temp". He fits right in with the Britney Spears generation today, but somehow I can't imagine him selling the world on the supposed merits of Mudhoney.