Monday, January 22, 2001

The video for "Southside", by Moby featuring Gwen Stefani, is absolutely adorable. I'm no fan of Gwen -- her beauty is often overrated, her voice is average at best (although perfectly suitable for the simple vocal stylings of your typical ska tune), and I find her to be quite the airhead in interviews -- but she's perfect as the flirty vixen playing off Moby's straight man monotone. The video looks like it was a blast to film, as the singers practically crawl all over each other and cavort in glam gear while huge neon signs displaying their names burn brightly in the background, producing the most ABBA-esque visuals in recent music video memory. But every time I see the video, I think about Moby's career, a story that is so varied and unpredictable that it proves once and for all that truth is stranger than fiction (the same argument could be made for the career of Norman Cook AKA Fatboy Slim, who, ten years ago, was enjoying considerable success with Beats International, a multi-genred melting pot of then-contemporary club sounds that sounds oddly similar to Moby's music of the present, although this is surely a coincidence). Because, ten years ago, in an age when a turntable, with a second as an option, was the standard for a live rave performance, Moby would play 4619 instruments simultaneously; or seven years ago, as he headlined the See The Lights tour (one of the "true" Woodstock II's) and tooled around the country like a prima donna in his own tourbus (so as not to inhale the pot smoke from the blunts of tourmates), with his show now mostly done on DAT, a man who fufilled his Jesus and Iggy Pop fantasies by standing in a crucifix pose during "Thousand" on a nightly basis, never would I have thought, while physically embracing his sweaty body after his many crowd jumps during said shows and being quite amazed of how thin and light he was, and debating to myself as to when to let him go and thinking "this guy is the Olympic champion of techno, he is the best in the world at what he does", even though, oddly, once the visceral nature of his performance had wore off not fifteen minutes after he left stage and me and my friends realized that it was in fact Orbital who had truly showed us the way not two hours before; and particularly following the critically and commercially disastrous "Animal Rights" speed-metal period of 1997, in which I'd written Moby off faster than he could say that metal was the only contemporary music that interested him in the slightest, no, not during any of these moments would I have EVER EVER, imagined that I'd be watching him in 2001 in a big budget video wearing a white fur coat, no, never did I think that. However, while watching his performance at the MTV Europe awards, it occurred to me that his music is less recognizable on it's own merits than it is from one of the many adverts in which it is featured. If, after that ten year ride, his many fine melodies are destined to be "those songs from the ____ commercials", then that's a bit sad.

Tuesday, January 16, 2001

I recently downloaded some tracks from Mogwai's performance at All Tomorrow's Parties 2000. Among these tracks was a "new" song (the reason for the quotes will soon become clear), a 15-minute blast of noise and strings that contained a faint whiff of Godspeed You Black Emperor!, and positively smacked of "Avinu Malkeynu". Whatever, I thought, Godspeed's "Gathering Storm" sounds more than a bit like "Amazing Grace", but clearly I am hearing things, the Molasses (a Godspeed offshoot) cover of "Amazing Grace" notwithstanding. However, in both cases, the truth has been staring me bullseyed in the face. By whatever name the internet has called it, by whatever the the songs' final/working title, be it "Jewish", "My Father, My King" (the literal translation from the Hebrew is "Our Father, Our King"), or anything else, ladies and gentlemen, freaks and geeks, Mogwai have covered "Avinu Malkeynu". At the (huge, but tantalizing) risk of sounding sacrilegious, this is one of the best things to ever happen the Jewish people. What could be more flattering than one of the world's top bands paying tribute to a deeply religious Jewish spiritual? This never happens to Christians, sure they have their Xmas music, but Xmas music is a novelty, it's practically secular. That's why all the best Xmas music has been made by Jews (Spector, Berlin, etc.), you certainly don't have to down with Jesus to understand it and enjoy it. On the other hand, throughout the rock era, the Christian *religion* has been spat on consistently, from Madonna dancing semi-naked in a field of burning crosses to Lennon's "bigger than Jesus" comment. Mogwai's "Avinu Malkeynu" is a towering tribute. There is not an ounce of kitsch present. To the best of my knowledge, none of Mogwai's members are Jewish, so how they were aware of the song's existence, let alone had the sharp judgment to understand it's tremendous poignancy within the Jewish religion, is a mystery (and they are far too astute, far too intelligent to cover such a song without fully gripping it's meaning, there's a reason they covered "Avinu Malkeynu" and not "Adon Olam" or "Eyn Keloheynu"). I suspect that when most people think of Jewish music, or perhaps even Jewishness in general, they think of humour. When this song is (hopefully) released on their next album, the world will be hit with the most straight-faced sample of Jewishness that has ever been unleashed in the name of human entertainment, a track free of irony, free of a Yiddish accent, free of "Seinfeld" references, free of big noses and scavenging for dimes on the street, no, it will be a track that will make everyone understand why devout followers wail this tune in synagogues each fall, singing and shaking and swaying and hungry with tears welling in their eyes, a track that will sit heavy on every listeners' sternum even if they disagree with the notion of a second Messiah still forthcoming, a track that will fill the (presently) empty folder of popular culture that is entitled "Jewish spiritual music, that is, a primer for everyone who has no idea what goes on during a Jewish religious service, who can't see the faith beyond the funny-looking caps". And it will be loud as all hell.

Monday, January 15, 2001

I may have been too sloppy in comparing Coldplay with Radiohead. I have upgraded "Yellow" from the realm of squeaky-clean, inoffensive guitar pop (although well done, at that) to the *true* "Live Forever". In fact, Radiohead could have never written "Yellow" because it's such a godfearingly childlike paean to the Power of Love, whereas anything Radiohead have written about love is soaked in their self-important ego-maniacal pissings of high-art seriousness, i.e. "Just" with it's quiet/loud dynamics ("hey, it's like, the grunge dynamic, like, and what could be more serious than that?") and the video's four minute depression primer mini-movie, which as far as I can tell, has little to do with the lyrics of the song, except that Thom Yorke would like to convince everyone that he's a miserable old poop (notwithstanding, who hasn't wondered what it would be like to just lie down in the middle of the street for no apparent reason, a silly subject for a video, perhaps, but very, very, intriguing because it would be sorta cool to try it one day). On the other hand, in the "Yellow" video, Chris Martin walks along the beach and the sun comes out -- voila -- impeccable romantic simplicity. What could be nicer than watching the sun on the beach? Of course, romance never works that way, true romance is snogging while drunk at a party or waking up next to someone else's discarded underwear, but "Yellow" isn't about a real relationship, it's a fantasy (is it obvious that my change of heart is linked to finally seeing the "Yellow" video?), it earmarks what is potentially attainable. And even though "Live Forever" was tremendously overrated as a single (in my opinion), those who speak so highly of it do so because it's so glowingly positive and makes them feel like they could do anything. And so does "Yellow". Thus, Coldplay: not third rate "The Bends" ripoffs, rather: the new Oasis.

Thursday, January 04, 2001

The world probably doesn't need even MORE of my anti-Radiohead rantings, but there are so many things that need to be addressed in print that this entry is absolutely necessary. So in the spirit of year-end Top 10 lists, here are, in no particular order, "10 Random Misconceptions, Nonsensical or Downright Sucky Things about Radiohead".

1. Thom Yorke's voice is not "mournfully soulful". Thom Yorke does not sing, he whines. I have nothing against whining -- Billy Corgan (Smashing Pumpkins) and Ira Kaplan (Yo La Tengo) make excellent music and both are a tad on the whiny side -- but whining is not soulful, it has never been soulful, and it never will be soulful. Therefore, Radiohead's music is not soulful in any way.

2. Say whatever you want about Pearl Jam's music, but when they decided to cut themselves off from the world, they DID it. No videos, no press, no nothing. Radiohead tried a similar trick after the release of "Kid A" and yet somehow every time I opened a music mag there was an "exclusive" interview with one of the band members.

3. "Kid A" finished on a lot of "Top Albums of 2000" lists because it was released in October. Had it been released in March, there would have been more time for the backlash to kick in and come year's end, it would have been viewed as the load of self-indulgent tripe that it is. Remember, most people liked "Be Here Now" when it was released in August 1997, and we all know what happened after THAT backlash kicked into overdrive.

4. I visited HMV today and finally had a listen to the JJ72 album. This was a band I had wanted to check out for quite some time. JJ72 -- abrasive, sexy, the new Manics! Disappointingly, but not surprisingly, I found that JJ72 do not sound like the Manics. JJ72 sound like Radiohead. The lyrics do resemble the kind of rambling prose and irregular pacing that characterized Richey-era Manics, but otherwise the high-pitched, whiny angelic voice, introspective acoustic ballads and not-in-the-least-bit-feather-ruffling rock riffs are pure Radiohead. I've long since given up on any UK band creating an album as visceral and gripping as "The Holy Bible", but SOMEBODY out there should be talented enough to make a run at creating another "Gold Against The Soul".

5. Speaking of bands that sound like Radiohead, take Coldplay. At least they're smart enough to rip off "The Bends"-era Radiohead, i.e. ripping Radiohead off during the only period when they were actually any good. But if the success of Travis and Coldplay has proven anything, it's that there are many, many other Travises and Coldplays out there waiting to break through. Their type of music is simple, catchy, and the record buying public is eating it up with a spoon right now. By spring's end, another band sounding just like Coldplay and Travis will have released this year's "Yellow", it will soundtrack the summer and the successes of Coldplay and Travis will be rendered commonplace. If new Travises can break through all the time, then the real Travis aren't very unique, are they? Why do you think the Backstreet Boys release an album every year? If they don't, then their fans will quickly forget about them because there are 1452 crappy boy bands born every minute, all of them sound the same, thus, the fans aren't going to care which one they listen to, they'll just listen to the flavour of the month. If Travis and Coldplay are to survive long-term, then they MUST quit sounding less like 1995 Radiohead and more like something, anything, else. However, advance press regarding the new Travis album do not suggest that this is the case.

6. It seems that there is a new catchphrase for the act of a band following up a guitar album with an electronic, wibbly album. This is known as "doing a Kid A". Anyone who claims to be the least bit knowledgeable about music and supports the entry of this phrase into the critical lexicon is thicker than the sac of saline currently supporting Britney Spears' latest "I don't want this sexy image" see-though rhinestone-studded top. Once upon a time, a band from merry Britain followed up their hugely successful guitar album of 1997 with a record of massive indulgence, electronic weirdness, and seemingly bereft of potential hit singles. The name of the band is Blur, the name of the album is "13" and it was released almost two years ago. Yet I've never heard anyone talk about "doing a 13". Are people's musical tastes shaped so much by Flavours of the Month (see point 5, above) that they have already forgotten about "13"?

7. This Pisses Me Off So Much that it warrants another point. Thom Yorke babbles on about listening to the Warp Records catalogue and how much it influenced "Kid A". While he does this (during one of those many "exclusive" interviews, of course), the mags drop their collective jaws in amazement like he'd just discovered the Holy Grail and deserves a medal for doing so. Dear God, I thought that the post-electronica mainstream press could accept the influence of techno-based music on guitar bands as being commonplace, but I guess I was wrong. Even Eric bloody Clapton made an ambient album, so why is it suddenly so risky and inventive once Radiohead does it?

8. I'm not done. I was not suggesting that Blur were the first guitar band to go electronic, wibbly, and uncommercial. I just addressed the fact that they did so long before Radiohead. Hell, Oval (Berlin-based techno artist) made some pleasant albums of dubby, click-filled techno in the mid-90's. Now that this music is more in vogue, what did he do? He released an album of indecipherable noise (and clicking). Yet nobody talks about "doing a Process". Far more famously, in 1975, Lou Reed followed up the success of the inoffensive AOR album "Sally Can't Dance" with the very offensive "Metal Machine Music", a 60-minute blast of noise and feedback, an album which is considered to be a work of genius years ahead of it's time or the worst album ever recorded, depending on who you ask, what time of day you ask them, and what stimulants they are on at the time. I know I am not alone in considering "MMM" to be the first instance of what these hacks are referring to as "pulling a Kid A", but by no means am I arrogant or closed minded enough to insist that there wasn't an earlier instance of which I am not aware. One final note, "MMM", even today, is 80 billion times more radical than "Kid A" would be even if Radiohead performed it naked with bombs strapped to their chests. The simple reason (among other things) is that "MMM" may be loud and unstructured, but certainly not boring, whereas "Kid A" is merely boring and unstructured.

9. Radiohead are actually not all bad. "OK Computer" is one of the most praised albums ever, and even I have to praise ... the singles from "OK Computer". The rest is meaningless filler. "No Surprises" is easily the best thing they have ever done. There's so much empty space in that song, so that every last drop of sound that is there counts for so much more than it normally would. And the video is the perfect accompaniment to the loneliness -- few things are lonelier than almost drowning. However, I haven't heard a live version that comes close to recreating that emptiness.

10. The hype machine will soon be restarting in time for the release of "Amnesiac" in March. Thus, I may have to add more points to this list. Happy New Year.