Amy Winehouse RIP

Yeah, so this wasn't entirely unexpected. Like with Kurt Cobain, her death was paradoxically logical and unnecessary -- logical because we've all seen this movie before, and uneccessary needs no explanation. They slowly went about ruining their lives, died, and we all watched.

I actually had some hope for Winehouse after seeing the now even more infamous "performance" from Belgrade. She looked healthy, not emaciated like in years past. She was out of it, but she'd looked much worse on stage before. Instead of being half asleep and mumbling along in a drug-induced stupor, she seemed confused, maybe even a little bit scared, like she had no idea how she ended up on stage. She looked less like a drug addict than an amnesia patient. I felt a little bit sorry for her, which wasn't the case for past performances when she was even more obviously wasted.

Many people said that Winehouse had an extraordinary talent, but I never heard it. She was talented, yes, she had a great voice, definitely, but she wasn't a singularly great, arresting, stop dead in your tracks sort of talent. To compare her to someone whose name will be coming up a lot in the next few days, she didn't have Janis Joplin's voice. Joplin's voice still sounds blindingly powerful and unique even forty years later. However, while she might have been a success during her life, Joplin only became a phenomenon after her death. Amy Winehouse was a much bigger star than Janis Joplin, and she had a far greater influence on the music industry. Plenty of bands were peddling blues-y pysch in late 60's San Francisco. Winehouse carved out an entirely new niche for herself in the pop landscape, practically created and championed a new genre of music to an unsuspecting public, and sold millions of records via the twin threat of her talent mixed with her ubiquitous personality cult. She cleaned up at the Grammys like few female artists ever had, and "Back to Black" was the third biggest selling album in the UK in the 2000's. Before Winehouse, the music landscape was filled with far too many cookie cutter R&B divas with nary a distinctive voice or sense of fashion to be found (of course there are some exceptions, e.g. Pink). Without Winehouse, mega-hits like Beyonce's "Single Ladies" wouldn't have existed, and Adele would have had an immeasurably larger barrier to superstardom.

P&J 2010 (One and Done): Maps and Atlases, "Perch Patchwork"

30 points, t-365, voted on by Ryan Wasoba

So this is it, I needed seven months to finish my 2010 year in review. That'll be a tough one to top in future years.

Seeing as I've never been impressed by bands who can play complicated, dissonant guitar lines in stop-start 13/8 time, I've never really given much thought to math rock. Bands like Slint and Chavez are sometimes lumped in with the math rock scene, but I've never thought of them as such. Without getting into the fine details of the border between post rock and math rock, those bands' propensity for making loads of noise and borrowing from the urgency and intensity of metal always seemed to fly in the face of the notion that they were oddball nerds trying to become rock stars the only way they knew how. Take away the noise/metal edge and instead infuse the music with a sense of folksy Americana that would effortlessly fit in with any outdoor mountain jam festival west of Chicago, and you've got Maps and Atlases -- the marriage of musical genres I can't help but hate.

And yet, the album isn't half bad. Most of it is quite easy on the ears and the band can write perfectly acceptable melodies when they're not trying to be too clever. The title track is by far the most charming example of this, it seems pre-ordained that it'll appear someday on the soundtrack of a Wes Anderson movie.

-----------------------

I used to shop at a record store that occasionally sold "mystery packs" of ten or twelve vinyl records, grouped together by genre and sold in cardboard packaging. They got to clear out old stock, the we got to enjoy the novelty of paying twenty bucks for music even though we had absolutely no idea what was inside the package. But it was tough to say you weren't getting your money's worth. The package would pay for itself if it contained just one or two great records -- underappreciated or unnoticed gems that you wouldn't have discovered on your own. Anything more than that -- so-so records that you probably wouldn't play out but were nonetheless interesting and worth keeping -- was just gravy, and beyond that, any records that were so intolerable that you had to throw them away were of zero consequence.

The Pazz and Jop "One and Done" experience was more or less like buying one of those mystery packs, right down the distribution of quality of the music. However, I can honestly say that I didn't dislike anything I heard, which is definitely not what I expected at the start (I figured at least two or three albums would outright suck).
I can sum everything up by grouping these ten albums into a few simple categories:

Listenable, but I don't feel the need to hear them again.

Achille Lauro, "Indiscretions"
Matt Boroff, "Reaching for Sparks"
Cathedral, "The Guessing Game"

Worth hanging onto

Maps and Atlases, "Perch Patchwork"
Shinyribs, "Well After Awhile"
Captain Ahab, "The End of Irony"
Mogwai, "Special Moves"

Good album, I will definitely play this from time to time

L'il B, "6 Kiss"

Something of a revelation

Gord Downie and the Country of Miracles, "The Grand Bounce"
Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros, "Up From Below"

A to JazZ Festival, Liubo Ursiny at Yalta Club (02/07/2011)

Although the music at these events was very good, the atmosphere made both of them instantly memorable.

Bulgarians love music. Whether they love music more than other peoples and cultures isn't really the point, but it's clear they appreciate a good concert more than most. I've seen something similar in other places where musical events are at a premium -- I think you appreciate what you get even more, especially if a notable international artist is involved. Under communism, clubbing didn't really exist in Bulgaria, internationally-renowned DJ's didn't start visiting until the 90's, and even now, such visits are fairly rare. Perhaps the market can't tolerate more events, or maybe the asking price of big DJ's is too high, I don't know (Bulgarians can't, and won't drop 10+ Euros on cover charges each week). The point is that you suffer through a few weeks where nothing interesting happens, then one weekend there's a cool free outdoor jazz fest and/or a extended set by Bulgaria's most renowned techno DJ. The level of collective enthusiasm goes through the roof.

Sometimes, the booking equivalent of the perfect storm needs to happen. Tiesto, who's as big a DJ as there is, is spinning at an event this month near the resort town of Burgas, on the Black Sea. Tickets are 15-20 Euro, which seems like an absurdly low cover price for a Tiesto gig. Is Tiesto's asking price lower when a vacation at the Black Sea is part of the deal? Or are the promoters expecting a windfall of partygoers at the peak of the Black Sea tourist season?

Anyhow, the mood at the A to JazZ festival was great, and why not? What's better than free music in the park on a Saturday afternoon? People of all ages gathered in the Doctor's Garden, lounged on the monuments and stones of Roman-era buildings, beers in hand, and took in an evening of tributes to the best of American jazz music. Even though the park turned into a graveyard for beer cans, nobody acted up or raised their voice, it was like a festival atmosphere mixed with supper club manners. And nobody was the least bit fazed during the ten minutes when it rained. It's almost as if there was an unwritten rule -- complain and they might not ever come back -- so everyone decided to be on their best behaviour. Just in case something like this never happened again, everyone brought their kids so they could be shown a good time while there was still a good time to be had.

The Ventsislav Blagoev Mainstream Jazztet jam it out and cover a bunch of the greats (Charlie Parker, Dizzy Gillespie, Thelonious Monk), and JP3 followed with their "official presentation of their new album 'Poison'" which was one stylish, snappy melody after another. Both are Bulgarian acts, but I couldn't really tell if the audience knows who they are or whether it even matters who they are. There was a small photo exhibition by a local photographer who's been documenting jazz concerts (by Bulgarian artists and post-1993, concerts by an impressive array of famous names) in Bulgaria for the past thirty years -- suggesting there's a rich history of jazz fandom in the country. But history wasn't important on this night. Most people didn't trek to the park because they were big jazz fans -- me included. They were there because it was a place to be, and do you really need a better reason to have a drink and lounge in the park in the middle of summer?

------------------

Later that night, I lucked into catching an event by local promoters Elevate, on their "Elevate presents Blame" night at the Yalta Club. The club is something of an epicentre for the Sofia club scene. Located across the street from Sofia University in the historic downtown of the city, it was one of the first (the first?) clubs to host internationally renowned DJ's after the fall of communism. Liubo Ursiny is renowned for his heroically long sets and I was pretty much sold after checking out his softer side on Blame's podcast series and his harder side on any number of wild clips from his sets that were captured and posted on Youtube. On top of that, I should have known that something special was in the air when I got to the club, where a) the security were polite and helpful, and b) the organizers let me in for half price even though my request to have my name put on the guest list wasn't received in time.

This was a no bullshit club night. I mean, what's the point of going to a club? To dance and have fun, of course. The Yalta Club is a two story club, open in the middle, shaped like a semicircle, with the DJ's elevated platform in the centre of the ground floor. It's not a large club and with bars along the far edges of the room, and tables scattered around the fringes of the main floor, there isn't a lot of free space in which to wander around once the dancing starts. On the other hand, it means that the place feels full once more than 40-50 people are inside.

I walked in and the place was frenetic. People were dancing literally everywhere -- on the ground floor, on the second floor, leaning over the railings, next to the bars, there literally wasn't a single person just standing around enjoying his drink, trying to look too cool to be there. Not a single person was standing still, and they were all locked in step with the rise and fall of the music. If Ursiny cut the bass, people cheered, if he tweaked the EQ's to build up the breakdown, hands were flung into the air. Since people were dancing while literally draped around and over the balconies, the Yalta Club turned into the video for AC/DC's "Thunderstruck" every 10-15 minutes or so.

That's a no bullshit club. Nobody stood around trying to be seen. Nobody popped in looking to see what the scene was all about, danced for half an hour, and went home. People were too busy dancing to ogle the go-go dancers in the weird silver lamé outfits. Ursiny's mixing was flawless, and although his choice of hard clubland techno isn't something that I would listen to at home, he knows every nook and cranny of the music and knows how to work it to the fullest in front of a crowd. Considering that he probably plays to the same small hardcore crowd of Sofia techno fans every time he plays a gig, it's all the more amazing that he's able to work his magic in front of people who are already familiar with all his tricks. Or maybe they simply like to dance that damn much, and couldn't care less about falling for the same tricks over and over again.

Diary of Musical Thoughts Podcast Episode 2

"Realpolitik turns on itself - a mix" (115 minutes)

This was recorded about three weeks ago and the minor editing/sound processing was done in my hotel room in Milan. You know you're a rock star when you're writing/recording on the road, in hotel rooms in exotic locales. (yes, that's sarcasm)

I wanted to do a quieter mix this time around. I imagined music that would evoke feelings of aimless drifting, although I didn't want a mix of straight up ambient drone music. I relied on a bunch of older CDs that I hadn't heard in ages (e.g. Main, John Watermann), these discs were selected in advance and in some cases I pre-selected the candidate tracks as well, although the final track selection and ordering were all done on the fly. I also imagined a much shorter mix than last time, in the 70-75 minute range, but that didn't materialize.

To make for easier d/l'ing, I split the mix into two parts. However, the flow of the mix sort of lends itself to being split into two halves. The first half of the mix (which ends after the Plastikman track) seems to flow better, while I normally struggle to get through the second half without drifting off to sleep. But with a mix like this, I think that's a compliment though, or at least, the expected biochemical reaction of ending a mix with a sequence of very long, very mellow songs, including fifteen minutes by Earth at the finish.

More details appear in the comments section. Enjoy!

Two live reviews

I have a lot of pet peeves when it comes to reading live reviews. Now admittedly, I don't always post very professional sounding live reviews on this space, but after all it's a blog and not an actual newspaper or journal, so sometimes I tend to goof off a bit.

But no matter what tone of writing I'm aiming for, there are some things I *never* do when I write about live shows, because these so-called criticisms and pointless and stupid in any context. This includes:

1. Whining about the setlist. Example: "why didn't they play [reviewer's favourite song by the band in question]?"

2. Complaining about the band's lack of interaction with the crowd, or disinterest in interacting with the crowd. Examples: "the singer had his back turned to the audience", "the band never said so much as a 'hello' or a 'thank you for coming'".

3. Lamenting that that X (who may or may not have been the opening act) isn't as famous as the headliner(s). Example: "I am so over the hype for the headliner, why couldn't X (who may have opened earlier in the night) have been the headliner?"

4. Beating a dead horse. Examples to follow.

I would hope that it's obvious why it's lame when a reviewer stoops to these sorts of lows, but here's a brief summary:

1. Why don't you just review the show that you saw, rather than the show that you wanted to see?

2. Silly platitudes are almost always irrelevant when it comes to the quality of the show.

3. Nobody cares about your forecasting. Just tell us whether the show was good or not, without trying to pimp your own agenda.

4. Yes, we know that already. We knew that ten years ago. Nobody cares about that anymore. We didn't even care back then. (examples to follow)

These annoying bits of reviewers' detritus were on display in a couple of recent reviews.

Bob Dylan's concert in Ramat Gan stadium near Tel Aviv (his first show in Israel in about two decades) was reviewed twice in the Jerusalem Post, both times by David Brinn. The short review (which appeared on the front page of that day's paper) was a simple puff piece with nothing but praise for the performance. The long review is a bit harder to pin down. A discussion about Dylan's perceived aloofness (#2) bookends the review and is presented as an obstacle that one must overcome in order to enjoy the concert. He also addresses the set list (#1), notes that there were no "left field" choices, and seems puzzled that some songs have been reinterpreted over the years and now sound different from the well-known recorded versions.

The review seems to have been written for the non-music fan who never goes to concerts but is nonetheless curious about what goes down at a stadium show by a major international artist -- which in fact, describes most of JPost's English-speaking readership to a tee. The third to last paragraph appears to be a take down of many of the sentiments that Brinn mused over in the rest of his review (has this article been edited since it was originally posted? This paragraph seems ... longer and different from what I first remember reading). I can't say I disagree, I mean yeah, if it's news to you that Dylan's voice sounds like a phlegmatic latter-day Miles Davis being choked under a pillow, then you probably shouldn't be going to his concert and complaining about his singing.

Steve Kerr's review of MUTEK 2011 for LWE is part text, part photo essay -- yeah, it helps remind me how much I enjoyed writing my own review of the festival last year. Let's begin with his extremely odd assertion in the opening paragraph that this year's festival was inferior to last year's because of the preponderance of "headliners either past their prime or commanders of cult fanbases". Um, doesn't that describe just about every MUTEK festival? Or most 21st century techno festivals for that matter? I could have sworn that I saw Nurse With Wound and Mouse on Mars headlining MUTEK last year. Anyway, the review hasn't even gotten going yet and he's already started complaining about the festival lineup (basically the same as #1).

Later on, he arrives to the Friday night event at Metropolis -- the marquee event of the festival -- and when it comes to discussing the headliner, he's all "I'm so over Plastikman at the moment, how about we check out some bass producers you've never heard of in the next room?" (#3). Eventually, he returned to the main room of the club, noting that "the floor was a mess and the atmosphere was appropriately post-apocolyptic". That line really whets my appetite for hearing more about the most anticipated performance of the entire festival, too bad Steve Kerr wasn't there to fill us in on the details because those of us who weren't there are dying to know ... oh wait, he WAS there but couldn't be bothered to watch and review the performance he (and/or LWE) paid $50 to see.

Kerr reports that some of Mika Vainio's gear was stolen, and comments that "perhaps as a result his set was entirely devoid of visuals, performing in near-darkness." Vainio never needed visuals when he performed as part of Pan Sonic, and anyway, nobody watching their shows could pay attention to a video screen because they were too busy trying to hold their skulls together in one piece thanks to the deafening volume. Nevertheless, "[i]n spite of this, he effortlessly proved that audiovisual spectacle is little match for technical mastery." Do we really need to say this in 2011, especially on a dance music oriented site like LWE (#4)? Perhaps we do, maybe people are so fixated on the quality of the visuals that are accompanying the performers and their music (i.e. the stuff that draws people to these events) that we need to have the whole laptop performances vs checking email arguments all over again. Was Kerr pleasantly surprised by Vainio's performance, or is he pointing out what his readership should already know about what makes for a top quality techno set? I'm not sure, considering on how many words he spills on describing the visuals in several other performances in his review. My views about this remain unchanged -- if the music isn't any good, then the visuals won't rescue the performance. It's never happened and it never will happen. Some might argue for exceptions like Caretaker's performance from last year's MUTEK, but when a guy stands on stage for an hour doing nothing other than taking swigs from a whisky bottle, it's clear that there is no performance apart from the visuals (and the whisky, and the decadence, which was the whole point of his video). And aside from all that, the music was great!

Kerr's review ends much as it began -- "it seemed like a disproportionate level of attention was paid to marquee staples like Plastikman and Modeselektor, overshadowing exciting new artists such as Hype Williams and Elektro Guzzi who would’ve otherwise stolen the show." Yeah, a disproportionate level of attention was paid to them because they were the *headliners*. How can this be so difficult to grasp? Even so, his point is baseless because techno audiences aren't like rock audiences. Rock fans are much more prone to tunnel vision when it comes to the role of the headliner. Many fans don't even bother to show up for the opening band(s), and they're much more difficult to win over when they're watching a musician they've never heard of before. Techno fans aren't like that, and you can most definitely steal the show from an opening slot. Last year's MUTEK set by Actress (which Kerr praises in the first paragraph of this review) was second on a five-act bill.

Kerr has a lot of interesting things to say about the festival and did a fairly good job of explaining how varied and creative the lineup (and the attendees) of MUTEK tends to be compared to other electronic music festivals. But this? "Overall, MUTEK 2011 offered five days of superb, nuanced performances and fulfilled its promise, if not my fantasy line-up." Say it with me: "nobody cares what your fantasy line-up is ..."

P&J 2010 (One and Done): Lil B, "6 Kiss"

30 points, t-365, voted on by Andrew Nosnitsky (who gave 30 points to another album, but "6 Kiss" was listed as his #1 album, so it counts)

Wait, this is still on? And didn't P&J wrap up five months ago?

I just returned from two weeks in Milan and Rome, and I haven't any music-related things to report. An interesting looking one-day rock festival took place last week in Milan (Rock in Idrho), featuring Foo Fighters and The Stooges among others. I didn't go, although at 57 Euro, the cost was fairly reasonable. Groups of teenagers sometimes board the subways in Milan and ask for money. Except it's not for charity, it's their job -- they play in small musical ensembles, entertain a train car full of commuters for a couple of stops, and hop onto the next car. Some of them are fairly good! I also toured the La Scala museum, and on days when there isn't a rehearsal you can visit the boxes and see the main hall itself. So I can say that I "went to La Scala", even though it wasn't for a performance. The stagehands were busy hauling things on and off the stage, the lighting techs were testing a few things, and the orchestra members were slowly filing in and warming up. All that stuff would seem pretty pedestrian if you were watching it in an ordinary auditorium, but in LA SCALA it almost felt like a important occasion, a peek behind the curtain into how the sausage gets made (and in this case, you really don't mind seeing how the sausage gets made).

Parts of this trip were soundtracked by L'il B's "6 Kiss". Now it's no secret that I don't listen to much hip-hop, and won't pretend that I can recognize high quality forward-thinking albums in the genre from the rantings of your generic dick-grabbing MC. But I'm way past the point where I'd be disgusted or dismissive of music where the subject matter didn't extend much beyond line after line of talk about bitches and ho's. We're in DJ Assault territory here, which means that after the 105th mention of bitches take my dick and suck it please, I tend to view the whole thing as one big joke. And at 19 tracks, 77 minutes, "6 Kiss" takes its time running that joke into the ground*.

For the most part, the rhymes are fairly good, but it's the music that shines brightest on this album. "B.O.R. (Birth of Rap)" and "I'm God" make for a daring opening punch -- rather than slamming into you at full force, they gently rev the album into being with their soaring, angelic background vocals. It's like Dead Can Dance died and got into the rap game, or maybe the PM Dawn revival happened and I missed it. "Real Plexxx" is like a 70's R&B number remixed by one of the 90's electro or lounge techno revivalists, punctuated by Lil B's sizzling vocals, one of his best on the album. "What I Mean" features of the heaviest basslines I've ever heard -- it's a real bassquake, intended to make your speakers dance their way across the room on their own accord.

From "I Want Your Bitch" onwards, it's nearly all bitches, all hos, all the time. It's a killer track though, like a slowed down 90's breakbeat tune with 85% of the treble removed. "O My God 66" is a half-sung weirdo love ditty that manages to recall both Green Velvet's warped sense of humour and Sheffield Bleep.

But getting through the entire album in one sitting? Forget it. There's way too much fat on here (like the "Rolls Royce" through "What I Mean" middle section) but it's a fantastic listen if you keep your finger close to the skip button.

* I later noticed versions of this album with 22 tracks, so I'm not even sure I have the complete version of the album (or if there are extra bonus tracks, or ...). The album was an internet-only d/l, and Lil B released his first official album only this year (after years of making mixtapes and online-only material), so there's bound to be different packages of his music floating around.

American Idol Season 10 Finale

Outside of a few bits and pieces after they reached the top six, I didn't watch "Idol" at all this season. Call it a case of Idol burnout, or getting my TV music fix from "Glee", or being less than excited about the judging changes. I kept thinking I'd latch on once they got to Hollywood week, or to the Finals, or when it came down to the best six. It never happened.

But miss out on the star-studded finale? No way!

Top thirteen, "Born This Way". I already knew who the winner was before watching this finale, so this is as good a place as any to wonder what it's going to take for a girl to win this show again. The last few seasons have seen a number of incredibly talented women fall short, and if we've reached the point where arguably the most talented 16-year old female in the history of AI can't beat a baby-faced male country crooner, then what's it going to take?

Odd, odd, choice for a group number, and they never sounded like they were on the same page.

James Durbin and Judas Priest, "Living After Midnight"/"Breaking the Law". I kept waiting for the audience closeup of a jealous Adam Lambert (although he did get to perform with KISS last year), but it didn't happen. This was seriously awesome though, and James couldn't have looked more at home up there.

Jacob Lusk, Kirk Franklin, and Gladys Knight, "I Smile". There's a lot of George Huff in Jacob Lusk -- fantastic vocal tone, brimming with energy, a gifted ability to suck a crowd into his performance, but technically inconsistent (especially in the lower register) with not insignificant intonation problems ("pitchy" in AI-speak). Besides that, Gladys Knight looked fantastic (I'm putting that out there -- I have no idea how much work she's had done).

Jack Black and Casey Abrams, "Fat Bottomed Girls". With their goofy looks, unconventional (in pop music) voices, and undeniable onstage chemistry, Jack Black and Casey Abrams were born to perform together. They could probably head out tomorrow on a tour of mid-sized clubs in college towns and make decent coin. That said, both of these guys suck donkey balls and I never want to see this performance ever again.

Top thirteen girls (minus Lauren Alaina) and Beyonce, "Beyonce Medley". Listening to them sing, I can understand why they were all eliminated so early even though this is one hell of a collection of eye candy -- easily the best in AI history. Haley Reinhart is the exception, having lasted until the top three, although judging by her lackadaisical vocal effort here (with the exception of her two line solo in "If I Were a Boy") it seems she doesn't feel the need to lower herself to singing with the other girls. A classic case of letting AI fame go to her head. Sure, right now it feels like you're a big star and are bound to have a successful career. Enjoy it while it lasts.

Haley Reinhart and Tony Bennett, "Steppin' Out With My Baby". Diva or not, Haley is really good, and it defies the laws of biology that Tony Bennett still sounds as good as he does. The lead-in package of Steven Tyler highlights makes me regret not watching more episodes this season ("Best of Steven Tyler on AI" Youtube video, anyone?).

Top Thirteen Girls, TLC, and L'il Jon, "Come Get Some"/"No Scrubs"/"Waterfalls". They filmed TLC with the widest possible angle because a) their lip-synching was horrible and obvious, and b) they were huffing and puffing ten seconds into the performance, which is surprising even considering how little effort their "dance moves" required. A train wreck of the highest order. I'd be crushed by watching this sham of a performance if I hadn't always hated TLC.

Scotty McCreery and Tim McGraw, "Live Like You Were Dying". Hear that? It's the sound of AI's international viewership going "huh?".

Marc Anthony with Jennifer Lopez and Sheila E, "Aguanile". How did this guy not make it to the final two?

(yes, that's a joke. Marc Anthony killed it. The AI band would be 40% better if Sheila E joined permanently. And J. Lo's ass is ... J. Lo's ass)

Top Thirteen guys and Tom Jones, "Tom Jones medley". I was bored watching this and kept wondering when Tom Jones would finally do his "surprise" walk-on (which might have had a chance at being a real surprise if the girls hadn't done exactly the same thing with Beyonce).

Lady Gaga, "The Edge of Glory". More evidence that "Born This Way" (the album) is meant to be Gaga's "Like a Prayer" (the album), complete with crosses and getting generously groped by a messianic being. But whereas Jesus died alone at the end of the "Like a Prayer" video, Gaga dies with her lover/molester in "The Edge of Glory". They're not hunted down and imprisoned by a public that doesn't understand them, instead, Gaga willingly jumps to her death. What does this symbolize? Is Gaga a godlike figure too? In "Like a Prayer" the whole thing was part of a play, but did anyone in the Kodak theatre see Lady Gaga in the flesh after the show? Where does the performance end and reality begin? It's music taken to the EXTREME.

Lauren Alaina and Carrie Underwood, "Before He Cheats". I don't have a bad word for Carrie Underwood, although that sparkly top hadn't been seen since the 80's.

Beyonce, "1+1". It was difficult to concentrate on this incredible Beyonce performance because I was fixated on the awesome Lee DeWyze lead-in snub. DeWyze decided to turn down the AI producers' offer to announce the new AI winner (but not to perform), so they stuck him several rows back in the audience, didn't show him on camera until the show was 80% finished, didn't introduce him or bother showing a graphic to identify him, and had Ryan Seacrest stand directly between him and the camera so that he was hidden from view, except for the brief moments when he tried tilting his fat ugly head around Seacrest's shoulder to try to get noticed. And it happened twice, in two consecutive Seacrest segments! Couldn't have happened to a less deserving AI-winning doofus. As for the Beyonce song, I haven't heard a female singer beg for someone to make love to her so many times since ... Laura Branigan?

Bono and The Edge ft. the cast of "Spiderman: Turn off the Dark", "Rise Above". Did you know that you can audition for AI next season in various cities in ... wait a minute, is that Lori Laughlin in a purple dress looking super hot?? That's way more exciting than a Spiderman musical written by members of U2.

Steven Tyler, "Dream On". How can his voice sound so ravaged and yet he still somehow nails the scream at the end?

Scotty McCreery, "I Love You This Big". Scotty's so mature and composed for seventeen -- or for any age, but especially for someone only seventeen. I suppose that's a big reason why he won. Kids voted him because he's a kid, and adults voted for him because he didn't seem like a kid. Even his victory lap was calm and composed. He tried not to break down while hugging his family in the front row (stopping short when he came to Jack Black), kept ably singing his new single, and only let his teenage self appear at the very end, when he stuck out his tongue in a humourous attempt to catch the snow-like confetti falling from the ceiling.

Grading "Glee" -- Season 02, Episode 22, "New York"

So this is it. I usually have no problem suspending my disbelief vis-a-vis how the Glee kids pull off these performances (i.e. when do they rehearse? where do all the props and backing orchestras come from?) but the idea that a team would fly across the country for a national singing competition with absolutely nothing prepared is way too far beyond the realm of plausibility.

"My Cup". No point. Sweet and catchy and annoying like an advertising jingle. As if a song about a cup is going to get the point (although Heather Morris' dancing almost saves the song).

"I Love New York"/"New York, New York". B. "I Love New York" encapsulated the ugly side of the mostly excellent "Confessions on a Dancefloor", where Madonna assumed that she could write just about any old garbage-y lyrics because her producer (Stuart Price) would rescue the song for her. The list of singers who can pull off lyrics this dumb pretty much begins and ends with Barney Sumner, but singing it while running around New York causing mischief is a big improvement on the original.

"Still Got Tonight". B-. I had no idea that Matthew Morrison just released a solo album with songs written by people like Kris Allen and JC Chasez. Did he actually go out of his way to get critics to hate his album even more than they already would have? This vaguely Oasis-lite tune isn't half bad, although the weird effects added to his voice do nothing for the song.

"Bella Notte". D. Background music, and did they really sing all their own harmonies? I'm suspicious.

"For Good". C. The song is simply a backdrop for Kurt and Rachel's character transformation from small town singers with big city dreams to small town singers with big city dreams who are determined to escape that small town, like yesterday. That's a nice way to set up season three, where the lingering question will be about what all the Glee kids are going to do with their lives after next season, and how the show is going to continue with everyone presumably wanting to go their separate ways. The Patti LuPone appearance in an earlier scene was a nice touch -- not only was it a nice payoff after she'd been name dropped in a number of episodes, but her advice to Rachel was simple, direct, and inspiring. In thirty seconds on camera, she made a believer out of me. We can do anything we set our minds to! Yes!!

"Yeah!". Point. Girls in frilly white dresses singing Usher? Can't hate.

"As Long As You're There". C. No mention that this was an original song, but that's not really the point. There's no way this was better than Vocal Adrenaline's "Bohemian Rhapsody" from last year (the mother of all ludicrously OTT show choir performances, whereas the so-called action happening behind Sunshine couldn't have been more ordinary) or as good as New Directions' performance in the very next scene. In storyline terms, it makes sense for Vocal Adrenaline to advance to the final round while New Directions have to wait 'til next year, but the performance wasn't nearly up to snuff.

"Pretending"/"Light Up the World". B-. One huge obstacle for "Glee" -- and I don't envy the writers and producers who have to grapple with this -- is that these competition performances have to turn into Special Moments that stand apart from what happens on every other episode. It helps if the writers stack some extracurricular drama around the performance, but on this episode they didn't do themselves any favours. For no particular reason, Mr. Schue decided he wouldn't go to Broadway after all. Quinn's ominous surprise was ... a haircut? There was a nice symmetry in the way Rachel wrote a ballad about her feelings for Finn for Regionals, only for the tables to be turned for Nationals. But considering the magnitude of the moment (trying to win the national championship), the buildup was horrible. Rachel struggled for weeks trying to write something, sinking lower and lower into loneliness while trying to deal with the reality of Finn never coming back to her, but it was only after she was viciously put down by Quinn that she hit rock bottom and was able to tap into her true feelings and write her song. But Finn suddenly decided he wanted Rachel back and his song just kind of ... appeared.

Speaking of things appearing for no reason, Jesse showed up and did nothing although he did hit the nail on the head when he said the kiss was common and vulgar and would cost them the competition. On second thought, that's a big something that perfectly fits Jesse's new role as the asshole who is nonetheless right all the time. The kiss undoubtedly ruined the performance because everything they were feeling was etched on their faces -- Finn: desperate, Rachel: conflicted, both: wanting to jump each other's bones so badly -- and the kiss was just the sledgehammer of plot that cheaply resolved what would have been better left not done.

The songs themselves were watered down copies of the ones they performed at Regionals, especially "Light Up the World", which resembled "Loser Like Me" right down to the guitar intro and the ordering of their individual solos. And the urgency to win the competition wasn't there because we know there's always next year, and all the storylines had been already directed toward next season (Mr. Schue staying, Rachel and Finn getting back together, etc.)

--------------

And that's all, folks ... this was a fun experiment that feels completed now that the season is over. I doubt I'll do this again next year, but then again, I graded the first episode of the season to get a bit of a laugh, expecting that it'd be a one-time thing, and somehow ended up writing about all 22 episodes. So never say never ... "promise me you'll never give up".

Grading "Glee" -- Season 02, Episode 21

Can this really mean that Sue is done trying to destroy the glee club? Would she really keep trying to crush them after they paid tribute to Sue's only friend? Would Sue Sylvester really no-sell death? Well, she did try to take advantage of Kurt's vulnerability when he thought his father was dying ...

"Back To Black". C-. She had the moves and the attitude down, which is typical for a Santana performance. But the voice ... as long as we're in "reality show judging" mode, then let me trot out one of my American Idol memes: if you're going to sing something by an iconic singer with a distinctive voice, then fairly or not, you'd better be prepared to be compared to that singer. How many times has someone on American Idol tried to show off by singing something by Mariah or Whitney and been shot down for not even coming close to living up to the original?

"Some People". B-. Continuing along those lines, I was watching this and thinking I it was very good but missing something that would put it over the top. Then Jesse hit the nail on the head with his comments, and everything was clear. Thanks Jesse, for being so good at being such a smug, evil creep (who happens to be right most of the time). Even by Kurt's own show tune standards, this was fairly by-the-numbers.

"Try a Little Tenderness". B. And again! Amber Riley can deliver on the big notes without a doubt, but how many singers have been able to duplicate Otis Reddings' raw, powerful delivery of this song? And Mercedes expects to be favourably compared to Otis if she doesn't practice? Good performance, but there's only one Otis.

"My Man". A-. This blew me away, but after criticizing three other performers who couldn't measure up to the original artists, I knew I had to track down the version from "Funny Girl". Yeah, Barbra's version is better (her emotional range is startling, she can go from practically crying one second to hitting a spectacular high note the next, and does it so naturally, so effortlessly) but Lea Michele's is also excellent. Far from aiming for a note for note copy of Barbra, she did a lot to make this song her own.

"Pure Imagination". N/R. This was really beautifully done and actually transcended trivialities like TV shows and assigning ratings to songs sung on TV shows. Part of me wants to be cynical and look at this as a way for Jane Lynch to campaign for an Emmy by crying on camera, but the whole scene seemed so *real* -- the tribute video to Sue's sister, the musical arrangement, the tears. Probably more so than any other performance on this series, you absolutely cannot separate the song from its context in the episode. I doubt I'd want to hear just the audio of this song ever again, but you can't watch the video and say that this wasn't an inspiring, touching, special moment for "Glee". I simply don't know how to grade a one-off performance at a funeral, even for a fictional character, so I won't try.

Pamela Des Barres, I'm With The Band

For me, the gold standard for sleazy rock and roll biographies is "Backstage Passes" by Angela Bowie. Flip to almost any page in the book and you'll read about her fucking some guy, or David fucking some guy, or David fucking some girl, or her fucking some girl, or the two of them fucking some girl together, or the two of them fucking some guy together. You might think I'm exaggerating, but I'm not (and yes, all the different combos are in there, multiple times). When she's not bragging about the people they fucked, she's bragging about how she's solely responsible for David Bowie's entire career. After all, she was the person who sometimes gave him pointers about what to say or wear (and even designed some of his costumes), so you can surely understand where she's coming from with that, and if you don't, she'd be happy to repeat it for you a thousand times in her inimitably obnoxious and pompous style.

In a 1990 interview, Angie Bowie made a sensational claim about finding David Bowie and Mick Jagger in bed together one morning in the 70's, which was HUGE news at the time and even came packaged to music video stations with its very own catchphrase ("Dancing in the Sheets", a reference to the 1985 Bowie/Jagger hit version of "Dancing in the Streets"). However, she almost immediately backtracked from her story, which was never much of a story to begin with, because she didn't catch anyone in the act, she just walked in on two men sound asleep in the same bed (albeit naked). Even Angie Bowie (and her lawyers) weren't dumb enough to get sued into tiny little bits based on pure speculation, publicity be damned. Snopes has a good summary of the controversy and an excerpt from the book so you can see Angela Bowie's scummy writing style for yourself. Having said all this, "Backstage Passes" was a hilarious and entertaining read, comparable to the enjoyment factor of Jose Canseco's books, and comes highly recommended. Maybe I should track down Stephen Davis' "Hammer of the Gods" next ...

I was expecting much of the same from Pamela Des Barres' somewhat notorious book, but it's nothing like "Backstage Passes". At all. First of all, Des Barres kept a diary her entire life, so we can trust her stories have truth to them since the details and events described in the book were recorded as they happened as opposed to twenty years and tens of thousands of dollars of drug abuse later. There's a tremendous amount of detail in the book, with week-to-week or even day-to-day accounts of her activities, supported by lengthy quotations from her diaries throughout the book. She's a fantastic storyteller with a surprising gift for subtlety that you wouldn't expect in a book like this. The 60's come to a close, the years drag on, and she's washed up as a groupie/pop star with no real plan for what she'll do for the rest of her life, and she's only in her early 20's. She never says that, but you can feel it, the pathos and sense of resignation in her writing is noticeable. She returns to the US after living in London for a few months, and she understands that her associations with rock stars have gotten her nowhere in life -- they've all moved on with their increasingly messed up lives, she needs to pay the bills, and can't rely on anyone other than herself. Again, she never says that explicitly, but it's noticeable in her writing.

"I'm With the Band" is a love story, or rather, a serious of love stories told by an old fashioned girl who wants nothing more than to find herself a husband and settle down. She didn't sleep with Chris Hillman because she wanted to feel empowered, rather, her foremost wish was to become the future Mrs. Hillman, and she spent untold hours writing him letters, designing his shirts, and hanging out with his friends, hoping he'd somehow get the message and make the dream a reality. This pattern repeated itself many times -- with Jimmy Page, Noel Redding, and many others, before she finally crossed paths with her eventual husband Michael Des Barres. It's like "How I Met Your Mother", starring a girl who has a penchant for rock stars.

Along the way, Des Barres helps to deconstruct one 60's myth after another. According to her account, the LA Sunset Strip scene didn't seem to be a haven for political activism and feminist enlightenment, rather, it was teeming with horny Jesus-fearing kids looking to get married in their early 20's, just like their parents did. She quotes from some of the poetry she wrote as a teenager, much of it in the hippy dippy "peace love and understanding" mode, and practically scoffs at it in her restrained, subtle way. A lot of the hedonism of the era comes off looking like the rantings of kids looking to escape their boring suburban lives while showing off how "deep" they are. That's hardly challopsy talk now, but this book was published in 1987, when the 60's were still very much a sacred cow to a lot of music critics. Pamela Des Barres -- ace storyteller and one of the finest, most ahead of her time music critics of the 80's? Can it be?

Some might find the book repetitive and formulaic -- how many times can you slog through page after page of the same love/rejection cycle anyway? Sometimes the book can feel like an intrusion, in a way almost too personal, but that's because you're almost literally reading through someone's diary. I found Des Barres to be very genuine and down to earth, which is tough to pull off when you're parading through so many names. But she has a knack for humanizing every character she came in contact with, no matter how mythic they were.