Spooky spun at the Drake on Saturday night. True to form, he wasn't afraid to spin anything from Blondie to "Jump Around" to The Cure's "Lovecats" mashed up with Missy Elliott. But long after I've forgotten what specific songs he played, I'll remember everything else about this gig, from the layout to the clientele to the staff.
Even though the venue was nowhere near capacity, the security people didn't seem the least bit interested in getting people through the doors on time. Even after Spooky came on, there was a big, glacially-moving lineup outside. The DJ table was set up at the front of the lounge, right next to the only proper entrance and exit to the room. This meant that the front of the room was packed with spectators as well as people trying to get in and out. This left no room at the front for dancing, not like it would have mattered much because layout of the lounge contains little open space for dancing anyway. And finally, the clientele didn't look like a Spooky crowd as much as it was a Drake crowd, who (besides from teh people crammed near the front) paid little to no attention to the music or the DJ. It was like a Michael Mayer gig for the late-20's/early-30's yuppies-in-training, supper club scenester, $8 mixed drinks crowd. It was a puzzling, frustrating evening, but at least the music was good.
Sunday, June 19, 2005
Saturday, June 18, 2005
METAL - Doom, drone, cabaret, and all that
Yes, metal has played a small but key role in the 2005 version of Being Me. The fires of BLACK HORRIBLE DEATH were stoked last year, as I finally (after far too many years and countless recommendations) heard Darkthrone's lo-fi masterpiece "Transilvanian Hunger". Mainly, I'm digging the grinding, ambient drone guitar crunch of bands like Sunn 0))) and bORIS. My craving for this type of music started in the mid-90's with bands like Brighter Death Now (as discussed in the Wolf Eyes live review) but it took me a few years to get around to figuring out where to find more stuff that sounded like that.
I've never heard anything from Justin Broadrick that is as powerful, noisy, and suffocating as the latest Jesu record. Both Isis and Jesu's music has been described as shoegaze metal. Both bands crank out extended jams stuffed with dense guitar noise, but while Isis take their cues from Mogwai and other post-rock acts, Jesu are ... well, they're just more METAL. More than any other aspect of the music, it was the cavernous timbre that attracted me to bands like Gehenna back in the mid-90's. Ahead of the subject matter they were singing about, or how the songs were structured, I cared first and foremost about the whirlwind of sound that lept from my speakers -- these records sounded *gigantic*, moreso than anything I'd ever heard to that point. And that's the strongest trait of the Jesu album -- it's HUGE.
Are Ulver metal anymore? They've straddled boundaries before, but on their newest album "Blood Inside", they're treading into Bark Psychosis, cabaret, and a healthy helping of WTF. My head is spinning.
I've never heard anything from Justin Broadrick that is as powerful, noisy, and suffocating as the latest Jesu record. Both Isis and Jesu's music has been described as shoegaze metal. Both bands crank out extended jams stuffed with dense guitar noise, but while Isis take their cues from Mogwai and other post-rock acts, Jesu are ... well, they're just more METAL. More than any other aspect of the music, it was the cavernous timbre that attracted me to bands like Gehenna back in the mid-90's. Ahead of the subject matter they were singing about, or how the songs were structured, I cared first and foremost about the whirlwind of sound that lept from my speakers -- these records sounded *gigantic*, moreso than anything I'd ever heard to that point. And that's the strongest trait of the Jesu album -- it's HUGE.
Are Ulver metal anymore? They've straddled boundaries before, but on their newest album "Blood Inside", they're treading into Bark Psychosis, cabaret, and a healthy helping of WTF. My head is spinning.
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
US #1's
What a strange year it's been. I've missed the days of songs remaining in the top spot for only two weeks at a time, the days when four weeks at #1 was practically forever. In 1989, I got hooked on listening to Casey Casem's America's Top 40 nearly every week (this is not the same as the Billboard Hot 100, I know, but they were fairly similar in that year). That year, 33 different songs hit #1.
2005 is nearly half over, and there have been only four #1's. Sure, compared to the present day, the chart tabulation methods were completely different, but mainly, I miss the days when there was actually week-to-week excitement over what song would be #1. Now, once a song hits #1, you can be fairly sure that it'll be there for several weeks so it becomes fairly straightforward to predict which artists have the popularity and/or momentum to unseat it.
First, there was Mario's "Let Me Love You". A return to 90's slow jams. It was number one for two months but it's been forgotten already (does it have a lower profile in Canada than in the US? Its run at the top already feels so long ago). Then we had 50 Cent's "Candy Shop" -- a good record that would have been a great record with nearly any other rapper on it. Surely, any other rapper, when presented with such a strong backing track, would have rapped with a sliver of intensity, a modicum of prescence, something? This song is the quintessential example of a guy phoning it in because he knows his record is going to sell no matter what he sounds like. Then we had Gwen Stefani's "Hollaback Girl". Little did I know that those camp cheers that we used to invent in ten minutes at the start of the summer could be worth something someday. I should have written them down, recorded them with a recording walkman at every camp-wide dinner, waited fifteen years, asked the Neptunes to produce one of them, and taken it to US #1. Finally, Mariah Carey's 16th #1 hit, the current chart-topper "We Belong Together", has me furiously flipping calendar pages looking for 1995 and the remnants of Boys II Men's career. I'm not feeling this one at all.
The #2 hits make a far more interesting package ... Green Day nearly had the first rock #1 in four years ... ditto Kelly Clarkson ... let me repeat that ... ditto Kelly Clarkson -- two years ago, who would have believed that the former AI winner would nearly top the charts with one of the best rock singles of the year? ... Ciara's "Oh" would have been the shortest-titled song to hit #1 but if it's any consolation to her, it might be my single of the year.
Speaking of American Idol, they're releasing Bo and Carrie's singles simultaneously, thereby decreasing the chance that either one of them will hit #1. "So what", you might say, "they did the same thing with Ruben and Clay", to which I will answer "yes, but Ruben and Clay didn't release the exact same song, thereby making the fans choose between different versions and lessening the need for anyone to buy both singles". Also, pre-sales orders have Bo outselling Carrie by a 3-1 margin. Why must the AI svengalis be so dumb? The guy needs to record a rock single (the B-side of his debut single is a rock song, but this doesn't count), and he needs to do it pronto.
2005 is nearly half over, and there have been only four #1's. Sure, compared to the present day, the chart tabulation methods were completely different, but mainly, I miss the days when there was actually week-to-week excitement over what song would be #1. Now, once a song hits #1, you can be fairly sure that it'll be there for several weeks so it becomes fairly straightforward to predict which artists have the popularity and/or momentum to unseat it.
First, there was Mario's "Let Me Love You". A return to 90's slow jams. It was number one for two months but it's been forgotten already (does it have a lower profile in Canada than in the US? Its run at the top already feels so long ago). Then we had 50 Cent's "Candy Shop" -- a good record that would have been a great record with nearly any other rapper on it. Surely, any other rapper, when presented with such a strong backing track, would have rapped with a sliver of intensity, a modicum of prescence, something? This song is the quintessential example of a guy phoning it in because he knows his record is going to sell no matter what he sounds like. Then we had Gwen Stefani's "Hollaback Girl". Little did I know that those camp cheers that we used to invent in ten minutes at the start of the summer could be worth something someday. I should have written them down, recorded them with a recording walkman at every camp-wide dinner, waited fifteen years, asked the Neptunes to produce one of them, and taken it to US #1. Finally, Mariah Carey's 16th #1 hit, the current chart-topper "We Belong Together", has me furiously flipping calendar pages looking for 1995 and the remnants of Boys II Men's career. I'm not feeling this one at all.
The #2 hits make a far more interesting package ... Green Day nearly had the first rock #1 in four years ... ditto Kelly Clarkson ... let me repeat that ... ditto Kelly Clarkson -- two years ago, who would have believed that the former AI winner would nearly top the charts with one of the best rock singles of the year? ... Ciara's "Oh" would have been the shortest-titled song to hit #1 but if it's any consolation to her, it might be my single of the year.
Speaking of American Idol, they're releasing Bo and Carrie's singles simultaneously, thereby decreasing the chance that either one of them will hit #1. "So what", you might say, "they did the same thing with Ruben and Clay", to which I will answer "yes, but Ruben and Clay didn't release the exact same song, thereby making the fans choose between different versions and lessening the need for anyone to buy both singles". Also, pre-sales orders have Bo outselling Carrie by a 3-1 margin. Why must the AI svengalis be so dumb? The guy needs to record a rock single (the B-side of his debut single is a rock song, but this doesn't count), and he needs to do it pronto.
Friday, June 10, 2005
International Harvester
Thanks to Jeff W and the 18 April entry of his brave/insane blogging odyssey, I've been introduced to a strange wonders of International Harvester. Like Faust, IH can do pull off a fierce, pounding kraut-drone song, follow it up with a quirky torch ballad and make the transition seem natural, even expected. The kitchen-sink instrumentation and jamming styles are also very Faustian, which makes it all the more amazing that this stuff predates not only Faust, but most of Krautrock.
Monday, May 30, 2005
Coldplay -- X & Y
A lot of talk has centred on this album supposedly being a sonic departure from earlier Coldplay albums. It isn't. Were you dying to hear "A Rush of Blood To the Head -- The Return" with the odd synth sound thrown in? Guess what, now you can. Thus, Coldplay fans are getting exactly what the doctor ordered, whereas non-fans will dislike this album just as they disliked their other two albums.
On tracks like "Fix You" and "Talk", they crank up the volume a bit and sound like they're playing with some energy. Otherwise, I was struggling to stay alert through track after track of heart-wrenching ballads designed to fill up the next year's worth of awards shows with comments from Justin Timberlake and P. Diddy about how emotional they feel while listening to them.
On tracks like "Fix You" and "Talk", they crank up the volume a bit and sound like they're playing with some energy. Otherwise, I was struggling to stay alert through track after track of heart-wrenching ballads designed to fill up the next year's worth of awards shows with comments from Justin Timberlake and P. Diddy about how emotional they feel while listening to them.
Saturday, May 28, 2005
Serge Gainsbourg -- Love On the Beat
It's not clear to me whether or not Serge Gainsbourg was putting forth much effort on this, his early 80's synthfunk album. He'd spent a good chunk of his career mumbling along to a backbeat, acting out his beloved dirty old man role on standout albums like "Histoire de Melody Nelson". Despite the mumbling, his voice sounded pungent and alive. On rare occasions, when he felt like it, he could upgrade his mumble and carry an actual tune with a dash of sparkle in his voice, as is the case with the delightful "Les Sucettes". But mostly, he was content to groan along with the music, doing the dirty old man shtick.
Then along came "Love on the Beat", in which the dirty old man became a cranky old man. He sounds like a middle aged guy who needed a load of convincing to make this record, and he's along for the ride, albeit perfunctorily so. Three years later, for "You're Under Arrest", there was no longer any doubt -- the cranky old man was now merely an old man. He wasn't trying, and he didn't care.
A fragile parallel can be drawn to another legendary Jewish mumbler -- Lou Reed, and the album "Rock and Roll Animal" in particular. With both "RNRA" and "Love on the Beat", once you get past the appallingly dated production, there's some half-decent stuff to be found on there. A even better comparison can be made between "Love On the Beat" and an album like Bowery Electric's "Lushlife" . Both were fairly ambitious shifts in style for the artists. Both albums are constructed out of long, looped passages with little variation within them, and even today, both album sounds sleek and funky. Despite these intruiging concepts, the end results are thoroughly mediocre yet infectiously listenable albums (somehow, they're far more interesting when you take advantage of the random play capabilities of your CD or mp3 player).
As the listens pile up, you go through stages with this album according to how you feel about the hokey, English-speaking chorus that coos on every track. First, it's distracting, even grating. Then, as you get used to hearing it, it becomes charming and endearing. Finally, it becomes karaoke material and you find yourself humming the melodies at random points during the day.
One of the few times where Serge sounds deeply immersed in the record is on "Lemon Incest". He trying, he means it. He's singing with his daughter. For instance, the "exquise, esquisse" line is delivered perfectly*, his voice quivering, his demeanour is humbled, he's awed by the thoughts in his head. On "Harley David Son of a Bitch" he sounds good and pissed off, spewing vinegar and ranting caustically. But elsewhere, such as the title track, he's just sort of there, upstaged by the moaning in the background and doing a weak job of conveying the twisted eroticism of the song.
But elsewhere, "I'm the Boy" is as funky as Gainsbourg can possibly be, while "Lemon Incest" is one of the best ten or twelve songs he ever recorded, and it's these sorts of tracks that make the album worth owning.
* This line is fascinating. The use of "esquisse" (spirit, as in a ghostly spirit) highlights the notion that this type of love must exist only in his mind. This is a recurring theme in the remaining lyrics of the song. However, when he sings those words, they come out sounding like "excuses, excuses" -- as in "don't talk to me about logic and morality, I know all about that stuff and I've heard nothing but poor excuses as to why I shouldn't boff my daughter". This sort of English/French double meaning is exactly the sort of thing that Gainsbourg would do (in fact, he does it in the title of the song: Lemon/Zest/Incest) although I can't confirm that it was the intention with this particular line. Anybody?
Then along came "Love on the Beat", in which the dirty old man became a cranky old man. He sounds like a middle aged guy who needed a load of convincing to make this record, and he's along for the ride, albeit perfunctorily so. Three years later, for "You're Under Arrest", there was no longer any doubt -- the cranky old man was now merely an old man. He wasn't trying, and he didn't care.
A fragile parallel can be drawn to another legendary Jewish mumbler -- Lou Reed, and the album "Rock and Roll Animal" in particular. With both "RNRA" and "Love on the Beat", once you get past the appallingly dated production, there's some half-decent stuff to be found on there. A even better comparison can be made between "Love On the Beat" and an album like Bowery Electric's "Lushlife" . Both were fairly ambitious shifts in style for the artists. Both albums are constructed out of long, looped passages with little variation within them, and even today, both album sounds sleek and funky. Despite these intruiging concepts, the end results are thoroughly mediocre yet infectiously listenable albums (somehow, they're far more interesting when you take advantage of the random play capabilities of your CD or mp3 player).
As the listens pile up, you go through stages with this album according to how you feel about the hokey, English-speaking chorus that coos on every track. First, it's distracting, even grating. Then, as you get used to hearing it, it becomes charming and endearing. Finally, it becomes karaoke material and you find yourself humming the melodies at random points during the day.
One of the few times where Serge sounds deeply immersed in the record is on "Lemon Incest". He trying, he means it. He's singing with his daughter. For instance, the "exquise, esquisse" line is delivered perfectly*, his voice quivering, his demeanour is humbled, he's awed by the thoughts in his head. On "Harley David Son of a Bitch" he sounds good and pissed off, spewing vinegar and ranting caustically. But elsewhere, such as the title track, he's just sort of there, upstaged by the moaning in the background and doing a weak job of conveying the twisted eroticism of the song.
But elsewhere, "I'm the Boy" is as funky as Gainsbourg can possibly be, while "Lemon Incest" is one of the best ten or twelve songs he ever recorded, and it's these sorts of tracks that make the album worth owning.
* This line is fascinating. The use of "esquisse" (spirit, as in a ghostly spirit) highlights the notion that this type of love must exist only in his mind. This is a recurring theme in the remaining lyrics of the song. However, when he sings those words, they come out sounding like "excuses, excuses" -- as in "don't talk to me about logic and morality, I know all about that stuff and I've heard nothing but poor excuses as to why I shouldn't boff my daughter". This sort of English/French double meaning is exactly the sort of thing that Gainsbourg would do (in fact, he does it in the title of the song: Lemon/Zest/Incest) although I can't confirm that it was the intention with this particular line. Anybody?
Billy Corgan -- The Future Embrace
A brief shoutout to Billy Corgan -- the nerdy older brother who used to be cool for talking about Queen when all his peers were talking about punk, but later became an arrogant, annoying douchebag along with his pretentious song titles and forays into poetry (however, the interviews where he rips on Zwan are extremely entertaining, spoken like a "difficult" frontman who's rich enough and self-confident enough to not care about whether he has any indie-cred left. Yes, that's a compliment).
"The Future Embrace" is a gawdawful title if there ever was one, with cover photo to match. But I've got only good things to say about the music. From the four tracks I've heard, this is what "Adore" should have sounded like. To hell with sensitive electro-pop ballads like "Annie-Dog", I want shit blown up big like "Daphne Descends". With louder guitars. Well done, Billy.
"The Future Embrace" is a gawdawful title if there ever was one, with cover photo to match. But I've got only good things to say about the music. From the four tracks I've heard, this is what "Adore" should have sounded like. To hell with sensitive electro-pop ballads like "Annie-Dog", I want shit blown up big like "Daphne Descends". With louder guitars. Well done, Billy.
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
American Idol Finale
What an immense disappointment that was. I don't know how Fox managed to screw this up, but they did it.
I mean, you've got these two fantastic talents who have been on a collision course for the final since Constantine's elimination (and maybe before that). Their singing styles and personalities -- the quiet country girl, the brash southern rocker -- are nothing like anything we've seen on American Idol in this season or in any other. The fact that these two are so different from the parade of R&B divas, boy band rejects, and Usher wannabes from the previous three seasons is a key reason behind the show's rejuvenation.
Now it's finale time. Inexplicably, somebody thought that it would a good idea to have Bo and Carrie sing treacle-drenched cheesy original ballads instead of the types of music that actually brought them to the dance. And apparently one ballad wasn't enough -- they had to sing two each. The same two, so that we heard four different songs tonight instead of six.
The other two songs were well done, but they sung them earlier in the competition. Naturally, those were the only moments when Bo and Carrie looked totally relaxed and were enjoying themselves. In complete contrast, neither one seemed comfortable with the ballads, particularly during the strained opening notes. Carrie seemed downright scared and in general, she looked about seven years older than usual. Bo looked nervous and ill-at-ease for the first time this season.
It's not like Fox doesn't know how to run a finale with two contrasting kinds of performers. The Ruben-Clay finale ran perfectly in that regard, with Clay showcasing his theatrical histrionics ("Bridge Over Troubled Water") and Ruben playing his soul/gospel part to perfection ("Flying Without Wings"). So why are they suddenly pretending that the final two are Tamyra Grey and LaToya London?
Who should win? Who was better? It's hard to say, because they've never sung those kinds of songs before. Not to mention that neither were at their best because they've never sung those kinds of songs before. I think Carrie sang better, since those numbers are better suited to her range, but Bo looked more comfortable out there. In that sense, this episode was no different than many other episodes from this season. It was close, but Carrie has never been in jeopardy at any point this season, therefore I think she would have had to seriously mess up in order to lose the title. She didn't mess up, and Bo couldn't put the hammer down on her this week (unlike last week), so Carrie will be YOUR American Idol.
I mean, you've got these two fantastic talents who have been on a collision course for the final since Constantine's elimination (and maybe before that). Their singing styles and personalities -- the quiet country girl, the brash southern rocker -- are nothing like anything we've seen on American Idol in this season or in any other. The fact that these two are so different from the parade of R&B divas, boy band rejects, and Usher wannabes from the previous three seasons is a key reason behind the show's rejuvenation.
Now it's finale time. Inexplicably, somebody thought that it would a good idea to have Bo and Carrie sing treacle-drenched cheesy original ballads instead of the types of music that actually brought them to the dance. And apparently one ballad wasn't enough -- they had to sing two each. The same two, so that we heard four different songs tonight instead of six.
The other two songs were well done, but they sung them earlier in the competition. Naturally, those were the only moments when Bo and Carrie looked totally relaxed and were enjoying themselves. In complete contrast, neither one seemed comfortable with the ballads, particularly during the strained opening notes. Carrie seemed downright scared and in general, she looked about seven years older than usual. Bo looked nervous and ill-at-ease for the first time this season.
It's not like Fox doesn't know how to run a finale with two contrasting kinds of performers. The Ruben-Clay finale ran perfectly in that regard, with Clay showcasing his theatrical histrionics ("Bridge Over Troubled Water") and Ruben playing his soul/gospel part to perfection ("Flying Without Wings"). So why are they suddenly pretending that the final two are Tamyra Grey and LaToya London?
Who should win? Who was better? It's hard to say, because they've never sung those kinds of songs before. Not to mention that neither were at their best because they've never sung those kinds of songs before. I think Carrie sang better, since those numbers are better suited to her range, but Bo looked more comfortable out there. In that sense, this episode was no different than many other episodes from this season. It was close, but Carrie has never been in jeopardy at any point this season, therefore I think she would have had to seriously mess up in order to lose the title. She didn't mess up, and Bo couldn't put the hammer down on her this week (unlike last week), so Carrie will be YOUR American Idol.
Monday, May 23, 2005
Wolf Eyes, Gastric Female Reflex @ Horseshoe
As I walk in, GFR are already playing. Or maybe not. I'm hearing a tape drone reminiscent of Spiritualized "Symphony Space", and a few random blips and bursts of static. A few minutes later, they take things up a notch by graduating to the sound of cables being plugged and unplugged from ungrounded amplifiers. As they finally move toward denser, scraping noise, dryly introducing the songs through a distorted mic as they go, I think to myself: it would be cool to play in an improv group and before each "song", somebody calls out a mood (e.g. "this is our happy song", or "this is a song about feeling hungry") and the ensemble has to immediately react and play in a manner that evokes that mood. I'm sure that somebody has thought of this already.
Wolf Eyes are considerably more interesting. First off, you've got to appreciate a band that builds almost all of their instruments, with the total cost of said instruments being exceeded by the cost of gas required to drive to each city to play the gig. These toys look fragile but are probably built like tanks considering how much they are hauled around. Besides, if anything was so difficult to replace then they'd probably refrain from dripping sweat all over their electronic gadgetry.
Second, they're a black metal band that's posing as a noise band. This is 1000% A-OK by me. They might start out playing electroacoustic improv using gongs, miked cymbals, and amplifying the sound of rubbing steel poles against thin steel (a terrifying combination of metal on metal), but that gives way to thudding synthetic beats during which the band menbers toss their bodies into their instruments. After the screaming and hyper-aggressive guitar playing is over, they find a little more in the tank and proceed down the pitch-dark industrial drone path of Brighter Death Now. One cannot get enough of Brighter Death Now.
Wolf Eyes are considerably more interesting. First off, you've got to appreciate a band that builds almost all of their instruments, with the total cost of said instruments being exceeded by the cost of gas required to drive to each city to play the gig. These toys look fragile but are probably built like tanks considering how much they are hauled around. Besides, if anything was so difficult to replace then they'd probably refrain from dripping sweat all over their electronic gadgetry.
Second, they're a black metal band that's posing as a noise band. This is 1000% A-OK by me. They might start out playing electroacoustic improv using gongs, miked cymbals, and amplifying the sound of rubbing steel poles against thin steel (a terrifying combination of metal on metal), but that gives way to thudding synthetic beats during which the band menbers toss their bodies into their instruments. After the screaming and hyper-aggressive guitar playing is over, they find a little more in the tank and proceed down the pitch-dark industrial drone path of Brighter Death Now. One cannot get enough of Brighter Death Now.
Saturday, May 21, 2005
Notes, etc.
• Yesterday was the final day to buy presale passports for Mutek. Yesterday, I printed out the third draft of my thesis. Connect the two and draw your own conclusions as to why my head isn't in the right place for a trip to Montreal this year. I know I swore this past January that the final paragraph of my 2003 recap would not be my Mutek epitaph. I might have been wrong about that.
• Bo vs Carrie ... for weeks, it's been obvious that these two were destined to face off in the final, and truly, no other matchup could have possibly measured up. I have no idea who will win, I have no idea who should win, and I have no idea who I want to win. Sure, Carrie is still the girl I love to love, but she's been hot and cold over the past few weeks, whereas Bo has cemented himself as the AI rock n roll Jesus and has made everyone doubt that Constantine Maroulis was ever considered to be in his league. Carrie has never been in the bottom three, and the cumulative momentum that she's built up over the course of the competition has carried her into the final despite a somewhat shaky set of performances this past week. If I absolutely must predict a winner, then it's Bo. Since the "Freebird" debacle week in which he found himself in the bottom two, he's been nothing short of outstanding. He hasn't shown the slightest sign of nerves, either.
• I picked up the latest issue of "Grooves" mag today, and there's something weird about it. Flipping through the articles and reviews, it felt like there were a lot fewer "The Wire"-friendly underground obscurities, in favour of more Pitchfork and blogger-friendly MIA, Caribou, LCD Soundsystem, Stereolab, Prefuse 73, etc. This isn't a criticism, just an observation. The writers are the same, so I expect that the articles will still be high quality, and "Grooves" seems to change its focus every six months (for which I have praised them in the past) so it's not like I have a reason to be concerned here. Unless this is the start of a trend where they gradually shift away from the under-underground and write about more artists that I've actually heard of ...
• SPICE GIRLS REUNION. I should be happier about this, but I'm fearful that this reunion will suck, just like most reunions do. At the time, I was pretty much the only indie-head I knew who rose up to defend the Spice Girls. Now, pop is cool, whereas indie is spoken about in more of a hushed whisper. Vindication! In North America, where the Spice Girls were always seen as a marketing joke, we'll see if they're given any of the long-overdue respect that they deserve.
• Bo vs Carrie ... for weeks, it's been obvious that these two were destined to face off in the final, and truly, no other matchup could have possibly measured up. I have no idea who will win, I have no idea who should win, and I have no idea who I want to win. Sure, Carrie is still the girl I love to love, but she's been hot and cold over the past few weeks, whereas Bo has cemented himself as the AI rock n roll Jesus and has made everyone doubt that Constantine Maroulis was ever considered to be in his league. Carrie has never been in the bottom three, and the cumulative momentum that she's built up over the course of the competition has carried her into the final despite a somewhat shaky set of performances this past week. If I absolutely must predict a winner, then it's Bo. Since the "Freebird" debacle week in which he found himself in the bottom two, he's been nothing short of outstanding. He hasn't shown the slightest sign of nerves, either.
• I picked up the latest issue of "Grooves" mag today, and there's something weird about it. Flipping through the articles and reviews, it felt like there were a lot fewer "The Wire"-friendly underground obscurities, in favour of more Pitchfork and blogger-friendly MIA, Caribou, LCD Soundsystem, Stereolab, Prefuse 73, etc. This isn't a criticism, just an observation. The writers are the same, so I expect that the articles will still be high quality, and "Grooves" seems to change its focus every six months (for which I have praised them in the past) so it's not like I have a reason to be concerned here. Unless this is the start of a trend where they gradually shift away from the under-underground and write about more artists that I've actually heard of ...
• SPICE GIRLS REUNION. I should be happier about this, but I'm fearful that this reunion will suck, just like most reunions do. At the time, I was pretty much the only indie-head I knew who rose up to defend the Spice Girls. Now, pop is cool, whereas indie is spoken about in more of a hushed whisper. Vindication! In North America, where the Spice Girls were always seen as a marketing joke, we'll see if they're given any of the long-overdue respect that they deserve.
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