Sunday, February 15, 2009

Bdbgs Rpup #3: The Lonely Ryan and the Bee



3. ALBUMS. I has listened to them. Eh, it's February. A few good ones, though I'm somewhat disturbed to note that my #1 album of the year is The Lonely Effing Island followed by Ryan Leslie, whose album is barely passing my "any good at all" test. Thing is, though, that Ryan gets by low and steady, a totally uncharismatic lead with his own productions as a crutch, both highlighting the economy/ingenuity/details of a lot of his production work (how far he gets on, say, two simple hook ideas, one usually being a totally awesome synth setting playing a two-chord pattern ad infinitum, that just barely don't overstay its welcome) and reminding you that it's not JUST his production propping Cassie up -- girl's got some kinda mojo going, though damned if I know what it is. She should totally NOT be interesting. And yet she is. (Her album's due out this year and I'm hoping it soars above everything I've listened to so far and then some.)

I'm a sucker for novelty, but really didn't think I'd go for an album of the stuff. Preadolescent repeat listening in secret to Adam Sandler albums will do that to you, I guess. And of course Lonely Island is better than Sandler, though I can't really gauge how funny it might be in comparison, since...y'know, I was A PRETEEN at the time and "Medium Pace" was basically the most scandalous, hilarious thing that any human being could ever conceive. But yeah, production is pretty great on this Lonely Island thing; and what I really love about it is a sorta wide-eyed-ness you get that undercuts some of the parody elements. Flight of the Conchords can do this on occasion, but they're so deeply in character you lose sight of a real person who could actually be in the situation the character's in. They're too dopey, you can only really laugh at them. But I can totally see Lonely Island actually flipping out that they're on a boat. It's sarcastic, I guess, but at the same time I start to think to myself...shit, I wish I was on a boat right now. WHICH IS EXACTLY THE POINT.

Er....yeah. Underdog track is probably "Boombox," for a similar reason -- there's this "music can save the world" attitude that you know the group actually believes in, just not in quite as silly and obvious a way.

But like, whatever, comedy albums, right? Yeah.

Liking a lot of R&B that seems less gimmicky than what usually grabs me, though not free of gimmicks. I'm kind of a rube when it comes to R&B, go for the most throat-grabbingly obvious conceits. But I'm liking a Teedra Moses mixtape that Lex shared a track from on Poptimists, "So Kool," and this Platinum Pied Pipers thing, which is not without its gimmicks but also seems like it doesn't exactly draw as much attention to itself as stuff more up my alley.

And on the sunny indie pop tip, still liking the Bird and the Bee album, a pretentious little thing full of fussy little arrangements that don't lose a sense of lushness. I guess "theatrical" is the word for it, though it's less obtrusive than that suggests. Prissy but expansive, navel-gazing but aims for simpler pop-pleasures that makes the lyrical tendency less obvious, if not quite moot. It's charming, you know?

Lily Allen, jury's still out. This is what Nia said about it, and I take her recommendations pretty seriously, especially when they sound like this:

Overall, I feel like the weak spots are weaker on this album than on Alright, Still — but the bright spots are much, much brighter. It’s Not Me It’s You is basically divided into the personal and the political, and political Lily is always weak — for whatever reason, when she’s criticizing policies or politicians, she chooses vague put-downs over logical rebuttals, which is why you end up with those cheap Flight of the Conchords lines. For example, from “Kabul Shit,” re: politicians: But I don’t know who to trust, and I just find it all confusing / All as useless as each other, it’s past the point of being amusing. Wow, thanks for that insight, Lils. But the preceding two lines are lovely: And the teachers always told us, told us we should love thy neighbor / And my mother always told me, told me I should vote New Labour.

Because she’s best at stories, and scenes, and characters. There are two political songs that do work, through and through, and it’s not a coincidence that those are the two political songs that are about specific people. The fame-hungry, love-hungry women in “The Fear” and “22” could very easily be brainless caricatures — and she could very easily be condescending and dismissive toward them and their misguided ideas — but she makes them real, she shows their desires and their doubts, she points out that they’re misguided not because they’re stupid or lazy but because we, as a society, have failed to guide them.

All the personal songs are strong, because, again, stories and scenes and characters. Some of the highlights are Alright, Still-style charming: “Never Gonna Happen” and “Not Fair” are funny and come out swinging. But she’s also warm, and loving, and vulnerable, and heartbreaking on this album in a way that she only hinted at on Alright, Still. “Who’d Have Known,” “Chinese,” “I Could Say,” even “Not Fair” — she shows timidity and weaknesses she wasn’t willing to show before.

Uh, so, I guess what I’m saying is, it’s a good album! And I stand by what I said back in July, about this album being on an Autobiography level.


I'm agreed on most of this, really, though it's REALLY hard to ignore an "out-of-character" political track, in which an affected character might undercut the actual sentiment behind it, like "Fuck You" and then square that with the "in-character" stuff. If she's in character, blunt, confused, quick to blame the other person but always with a sneaking (sometimes unstated, but stated over the course of things enough to make it a facet of her character) sense that she's equally if not more at fault than the offending person -- it would, you would think, lead to a slightly less assured sense of political righteousness, too. Especially since she's 100x more annoying when she's being politically righteous. I think this kind of happens a bit on "Everyone's At It," which has some serious Flight of the Conchords moments of overly literal "message" moves ("You daughter's depressed, we'll get her straight on the Prozac / Little do you know that she already takes CRACK!") that I can step back from and appreciate (a little) knowing that the impetus for this song, according to the song, is that she's been at it and thinks it's stupid. And her first reaction, obvs, is to blame everyone (see?) but herself.

So yeah, it's got some depth, and the tunes are better this time around, I think. The cobbled-togetherness of the first one seemed somewhat at odds with the forcefulness of her character; in this one, the arrangements kind of lift her up and take her through the stories, as theatrically or sparely as they need to. "Everyone's At It" has warning sirens, "Back to the Start" has a confessional dance drug-haze synth and hectic breakbeat sorta thing to match the anxiety/paranoia in apologizing to someone with whom you have a major inferiority complex, "Chinese" appropriately suggests swooning and sweatpants...a kind of chipmunk anthem (those could be U2 drums, or maybe Jesus and Mary Chain in another context, if they weren't so canned). I'm still trying to figure out what the hell is going on with "Him," in which a seemingly boring dude is equated with a terrorist [EDIT: He, um, God, is WATCHING the terrorist do his thing; hasn't been personified yet in the song], then painted as a yuppie who listens to Creedence, all set to..."Friend of the Devil"? Really? (Eh, it's interesting!) [EDIT: Oh wait, she's talking about GOD. So basically this is an "edgier" version of Joan Osbourne's "One of Us." I'm not sure if that makes me like it more or less?]

Actually, it might kind of be my #1 so far, because I know I couldn't muster that many words about anything else on the list.

4. SONGS: Surprisingly weak year for singles so far, though I should clarify that this is more a reflection of how I've been listening to music (full albums in headphones to accompany subway trips, mostly) than anything else. Doesn't helped that I've ticked "don't like any" at least twice so far this year on the Poptimists UK Charts polls. Dire straits, those charts...I considered going back and ticking "Crack a Bottle" but couldn't do it. It's just too boring.

That said, looking forward to future releases from Ciara, judging from "Turntables," and Keke Palmer, judging from the theme song to her TV show, and maybe some more material from Priscilla Renea, who does a dead-on Rihanna impression, along with someone who does a dead-on Akon impression, in "Emergency Room" which, given the song's content and unfortunate events with the REAL Rihanna, is ensured no chance whatsoever of being officially released. But at something like age 17 Priscilla's got a bright future (I hope...no telling these things, especially nowadays). Brighter still, though not as enthusiastic about it: Dr. Luke/Max Martin project Kesha, whose career I am waiting with some trepidation, but a bit of cautious optimism. Maybe she'll be better than Katy Perry AND Lady Gaga, thus making both irrelevant in one fell swoop?


Bdbgs Rpup #2: Covers

2. WTF is going on with covers this year? Here are two tracklists from upcoming cover song compilations in which artists basically sing any song they happen to like (in one, there's a Valentine's theme, in the other, you cover someone else on your label):

A Revolution in Sound
1. The Flaming Lips with Stardeath And White Dwarfs - Borderline (Madonna)
2. The Black Keys - Her Eyes Are A Blue Million Miles (Captain Beefheart)
3. Michelle Branch - A Case Of You (Joni Mitchell)
4. Against Me! - Here Comes A Regular (Replacements)
5. Missy Higgins - More Than This (Roxy Music)
6. James Otto - Into The Mystic (Van Morrison)
7. Adam Sandler - Like A Hurricane (Neil Young)
8. Taking Back Sunday - You Wreck Me (Tom Petty)
9. Mastodon with Billy Gibbons - Just Got Paid (ZZ Top)
10. The Used - Burning Down The House (Talking Heads)
11. Disturbed - Midlife Crisis (Faith No More)

Sweetheart: Our [that is, Starbucks'] Favorite Artists Cover Their Favorite Love Songs

1 Death Cab for Cutie - Love Song (Cure cover)
2 Katy Perry - Black and Gold (Sam Sparro cover)
3 DeVotchKa - Hot Burrito #1 (I'm Your Toy) (Flying Burrito Brothers cover)
4 Department of Eagles - Love Me (Elvis Presley cover)
5 Jessica Lea Mayfield - Words of Love (Buddy Holly cover)
6 Ben Bridwell - Your Love Is Forever (George Harrison cover)
7 Kate Tucker - I'm on Fire (Bruce Springsteen cover)
8 Rogue Wave - Maps (Yeah Yeah Yeahs cover)
9 A.C. Newman - Take on Me (a-ha cover)
10 Jem - Yellow (Coldplay cover)
11 Richard Hawley - Early Morning Rain (Gordon Lightfoot cover)
12 Daniel Martin Moore - I Hear Music (Billie Holiday cover)
13 She & Him - I Put a Spell on You (Screamin' Jay Hawkins cover)
14 Lila Downs - My One and Only Love (Frank Sinatra cover)


On first glance, I don't see any real connections between ANY of these artists and their source material, except for the organizing premises. In comments, Chris sez:

I'm wondering what you make of the cover genre to begin with. I can't help but think there's been a bigger shift in what cover songs do.... away from a citation of musical influence which showed both difference and continuity (e.g. the sheer number of R.E.M. VU covers... or the Go-Gos covering the Shangri-las) toward more of an "American pop repertoire" song book approach (as in American Idol).


This is in line with something I was saying back when Paul Anka put out his most recent covers album: "In a way, the straight-faced approach is what makes this album provocative. While Anka’s brand of interpretation makes for a few embarrassing missteps (a swing cover of 'Tears in Heaven' strikes me as particularly cheap, especially given the song’s well-known back story), it also helps to recontextualize a few ubiquitous 80s and 90s tracks as 'standards.'"

Thing is, I'm finding a hard time finding covers these days that aren't straight-faced. Emo bands have been helpful -- they'll cover just about anything with zero hint of irony, from Britney to Lil' Wayne. I like this trend; it's maybe one writ-large effect of so-called popism that privileges the basic value of pop production without necessarily accepting pop's legitimacy wholesale (h/t Tom). And I'm guessing that as indie/mainstream antagonisms continue to diminish by default as everything shrinks, we'll continue to get a back and forth between the mainstream and semi-mainstream and quasi-mainstream...not sure what this will look like, but perhaps the Prince cover of "Creep" is an early indicator of a (not institutionally, but at least conceptually) leveled playing field.

In a weird related note, I had a dream last night that I was watching the Grammys (which I did not actually watch) and Toby Keith was getting ready to play a song, but first got in a dig at Taylor Swift, singing "Love Story" in a sarcastic falsetto. His message was (1) that she wasn't really country and (2) she couldn't really sing. Then he attacked Miley Cyrus for exposing her midriff. BUT! Then he sang what sounded like a Neil Young song sung by Nick Cave or something. It was pretty good! It wasn't one of his, and in the dream I identified it as Bruce Springsteen, to which someone in the room said I was crazy. Wish I remembered how it went.


Bdbgs Rpup #1: Ben

It's "wrap up" and "rip up" for a reason -- Tumblr's a good place to get ideas out (quickly) but it's not really a great place to have, say, hundred-plus deep comment threads that may or may not completely debunk, expand on, or otherwise comment on a main post. I still view the format as a kind of glorified post-it-noting, so I'll try to keep the Real Blog going to at least summarize what's been up in my notes roughly for the previous month, though I'll do it intermittently for Jan-Feb. (In no particular order.)

1. So apparently when you use the word RACIST to describe a public gesture from an otherwise unremarkable, just-doing-his-thing sorta guy, people get upset. Which I guess is understandable. But here's what happened:

Ben Gibbard and Death Cab for Cutie went to the Grammys with blue awareness ribbons on their lapels. Gibbard had a series of brief, somewhat confusing remarks about how the cause was Autotune Awareness. Autotune, he claimed, was destroying the "blue note," and subsequently music's soulfulness.

This was, charitably, a regrettable way of putting it. First, he's wrong -- Autotune, even in its most robotic overdrive modes, doesn't destroy blue notes. His point about taking away the "human" quality of the voice is I suppose valid, though the interesting thing about Autotune is, in comparison to other vocal manipulation methods, how much of the original voice it actually preserves. So (and again, this is being charitable) it may be that Ben and I just see things from different perspectives: to me, Autotune, when used as a tool to purposely defamiliarize the human voice, is fundamentally electronic, like a drum machine, and its humanness is a secondary characteristic. So I see it as bringing the human into the realm of the electronic (NOT suggesting "electronic" and "human" are opposed, more like suggesting it's finding an interesting middle ground between the "grain" of the voice and something that is wholly electronically manipulated). Whereas Ben sees it as the electronic sullying something that was (presumably) once human.

Thing is, this wasn't an issue of taste: as Mike Barthel pointed out, "he’s making a big, agressive, public show of his taste, with the ribbons and all, walking into a room full of people who do use Autotune as a kind of nyah-nyah anti-Grammy statement." Those people in the room are important: Marc Hogan suggested in the comments box,

Why is it any more about race than it is about, say, your stance on big, poorly run corporations and what they think people will buy? I think that's more the cultural value at play here-- individuality vs. homogeneity, mom and pop vs. Starbucks, the sound of a person singing in a room vs. the sound of a person singing in a room tweaked by a particular, conglomerate-preferred bit of software that takes out some of those personal idiosyncrasies (idiosyncrasies which are still intact on lots of old records, by white people and African Americans and every other race and ethnicity).


But as I see it, the people in the room choosing to use Autotune in this way don't necessarily have any industry mandate for what they're doing; if the industry "pushes" for anything, it's the same tropes of "humanness" and "soulfulness" that Gibbard is embracing here: Simon Cowell's bread and butter, the belief that "raw talent" needs to be harnessed with an industry apparatus to create something friggin' huge. It's what gives us 90's Mariah/Whitney throwbacks like Leona Lewis and, perhaps, the post-Amy Winehouse surge of neo-soul. Autotune experiments, by comparison, feel a bit fringey -- they happen within the industry, once artists are comfortable enough to try our new sounds without worrying about industry input. T-Pain's rise still seems like a bit of a fluke, and of course Kanye's experiments were seen widely as an auteur move, while Lil' Wayne, it would seem, gets to do whatever the fuck he wants at this point.

There is an industry standard for Autotune that reaches beyond these artists; that is the use of Autotune as touch-up device. However, that use of Autotune doesn't connect with what DCFC are suggesting here (oblique as they are about it):

"A little use is OK, but there is a difference between ‘use’ and ‘abuse,’" Gibbard said. “And I feel we’re getting to a point of abuse at this point.”


Of course, as little sense as the gambit makes in the first place, it makes no sense when we project common (usually assumed and unfounded) arguments about Autotuning (e.g. "it does the work for singers," "bad singers sound good," etc.): when used "appropriately" one's voice doesn't sound manipulated at all. It has absolutely no perceptible bearing on how notes are sung, etc., whatsoever.

So let's go back to those "people in the room": T-Pain, Kanye, Lil' Wayne, say. Gibbard is, essentially, telling them that their own aesthetic choices have robbed their music of a certain human element, of a soulfulness that music might have otherwise had (if they had just bothered to "learn how to sing"). I really don't think it's completely misplaced to find an interesting discussion to be had about socioeconomic and racial implications of what "soul" is in this case (somewhat ironic, since stuff like the use of blue notes were not considered "valid" in music when they were actually being practiced outside of a mainstream music culture, and very well might have been met with a "you should learn how to sing properly" argument at the time, but I won't speculate on it since my knowledge of the history is way too weak to support the argument).

And if we really wanna talk about the racial disparities at the Grammys worth talking about, the only categories that don't seem to have any representation from non-white-male type people are rock categories, including Best Rock Song, which Death Cab was nominated for. This is probably not all that interesting/significant, though; in fact, aside from rock acts, white men are kind of a minority as far as artists go at the Grammys.