play the charts like the beatles
A decent thread started on the Stylus message board as to what's been the defining song of the summer of 2006; for the most part, we've come down to "Promiscuous" and "Crazy." Me personally, I'd probably have to go with "Crazy," because I can't think of too many places I've been where I haven't heard it. Electronics stores, blaring out of fraternity house windows, car stereos, MTV, VH1, you name it.
Obviously, this bothers me a lot. Not so much because Gnarls Barkley is little more than a blacker version of Postal Service. Moreso because people who otherwise aren't into music are saying the name "Gnarls Barkley" far more than they should. Say what you will about Pearl Jam, but the two things I respect about them the most is that a: they had a good enough sense of humor to go by the name "Mookie Blaylock" at one point and b: they had the good sense to change it.
But the bigger problem is that you look at those two songs and go, "that's it?" It's like with "Feel Good, Inc." from last year; nice song and all that, but lacks an amount of cultural force that a definitive song should have. Even the "Whisper Song" was galvanizing in some aspect. I don't even think I've heard "Promiscuous" all the way through. I've seen the video a few times and I've noticed two things: first, that Timbaland is rocking that inflatable muscle suit from "Gimme Some Mo'" and that Nelly Furtado's really fucking hot for a 50-year old. Beyond that, I sorta lose interest.
Actually, the most intriguing release of the summer is Paris Hilton's "Stars Are Blind" as well as her forthcoming album, "Paris," which got reviewed up at Stylus. It's a great pop culture phenomenon, but the problem is, it doesn't quite go far enough when it comes to answering the questions I want answered. It makes me think back to "Joe Millionaire." Yes, it was a show based on the blatantly misogynistic premise that dating is socially accepted prostitution. But Joe was still a former underwear model who was 6'5" or something, had a full head of hair and worked in construction. Even if he didn't have two nickels to rub together, it's not inconceivable that women would still want to fuck him. I mean, how cliche is the whole "gold-digger marries a wealthy business exec and ends up fucking the Mexican cabana boy while he's at work" thing? If this show really wanted to make a point, Joe Millionaire would look like one of the Van Gundys.
Likewise, "Paris" is based on the misanthropic premise that people are really fucking stupid. Why anyone would want to hear it for a reason other than curiosity is beyond me; it's clear that she lacks any sort of technical ability, and it fails even as gossip rag fodder as well. She didn't write any of the lyrics, so even if you're 99.9% sure that a song is about Nicole Ritchie, there's a chance that its author was really writing about soybean crop rotations.
And yet all the bitching is useless, because it'll end up like "Super Size Me": the message is incredibly obvious, but it'll never reach the people that can actually benefit from it. The chair-moistening gastropod who is unaware that 5,000 calories a day of anything, let alone McDonald's, is bad for him was probably in the other theater watching "Scary Movie," downing a XXL popcorn with extra butter and drowning it with a 128-oz. Coke. Likewise, anyone who's going to buy "Paris" for non-ironic purposes thinks "Sufjan Stevens" is the name of the Indian guy who works at their local Chevron.
We can't change any of that, but I just wish there was an alternate version where the name "Paris Hilton" is removed from it and replaced with "Margot" or something, so we can see how clueless the critical community is about evaluating pop music made by females. Jeff is absolutely correct in his evaluation of this album. Sort of. The production on "Paris" sounds definitively American (read: Scott Storch), and most critics worth their salt would probably be able to point that out. Then again, if "Margot" was some sort of Scandinavian pop princess, the same critics would likely be lauding it for her ability to grasp the American pop paradigm.
Confused yet? Well, you should be. It shows why I can't trust any music critic that professes a claim for "pop music" as we usually think of it, i.e., something that wouldn't be better served jammed into something like "rock" (nearly any three-to-five member band with guitars), R&B or whatnot. Critics who really like pop music are like rappers who actually sell drugs and kill people; I'm pretty sure they don't actually exist in real life.
Because let's face it: what is a music critic gig except the culmination of years upon years of elitism? And you're gonna waste your stump on obviously subpar shit that's beloved by the masses? By the way, this also explains my disdain for Lil' Wayne, but that's another story. Sure, you may go to a hipster bar and see a copy of Madonna's first album in the jukebox, but there's also a copy of "Spiderland" as well, and I know which one gets put on far more often.
I can't trust any praise of a pop album because it always, always, always seems to be tinted by what pop music critics (and let's face it, males mostly make the narrative here) want out of their girlfriends. How do I know this? Think about all the songs and albums that have been curiously adopted (in that it's diametrically opposed to bread and butter stuff like Arcade Fire, Sufjan, Interpol, etc.) by the cognoscenti over the past few years..."Toxic," "Crazy In Love," "One Thing" (which still blows moose cock, by the by), Robyn, Annie, M.I.A., Ciara, Kelis, etc. Notice anything? That's right: no white boy mainstream rock and certainly no R&B created by black males. Unless we're talking about "Ignition (Remix)," which is an exception because as I've said before, it's on a Mike Tyson/Ron Artest/Cam'ron circa "Y'all Can't Live My Life" level where you feel as if you're receiving a transmission from another planet.
Even though it's under the auspices of pop, it's fairly certain that melody isn't playing much of a role here. If that were the case, The Delays would be critical monsters and "Bleed American" would be every bit as well-regarded as anything Liars have put out. I'll give these people their Motown and so forth; you can actually sing along to it because there's melodic structure. Modern R&B is basically rap without the rapping.
Combine liberal guilt and a severe lack of sex and you've got the lines that determine what's good pop and what's bad. M.I.A.: Exotic! Leftist! Rich! Hot! Robyn: Swedish! Watches Chappelle Show! Annie: Swedish! Sad because her boyfriend's dead! Lily Allen: Rich! And so forth.
Look, I know how it is with women; basically, if they're hot, guys will turn any small quirk of theirs into some sort of enormous display of personality plus. Likewise, when men start evaluating pop music made by women, it's like what happens when I take a shot of Jager during a night out: all bets are off. Did you know that there are people who think Missy Elliott is some sort of musical genius? Jeff calls her the black Rosie O'Donnell, but I think she's an update of the Beastie Boys; I'm glad she exists and she's probably good for music, but if you really think about it, the first album's the only one that actually holds up. And even "Supa Dupa Fly" has a couple of those tired-ass slow jams that no one ever asks for. Seriously, I started listening to "Kelis Is Here," and even that has a couple of those tired-ass slow jams that no one ever asks for.
But she's most like the Beasties in that 90% of the praise that goes towards them and not their producers is misdirected. You think Missy Elliott would be where she is if her mentor was Jazze Pha or Poke & Tone? And although "Miss E..." is generally the most well-regarded of her albums, it's not a coincidence that Timbaland's best beats went there. But I might as well just come out and say it: "Get Ur Freak On" is the most overrated fucking song of all time and it has everything to do with those unlistenable, unlistenable lyrics.
Is it really because male critics expect so little out of female artists? I mean, have you actually listened to the whole of "Anniemal"? Okay, "Heartbeat" is pure gold, but if you like "Chewing Gum," you can go turn in your testicles. If you heard the rest of the album played at an upscale clothing store, you probably wouldn't think all that much of it. And Robyn? Well, that was #4, repeat NUMBER FOUR on Stylus' Top 50 list last year and it's one of two albums on that list that I couldn't listen to all the way through because it cracked me up so badly. I just refuse to believe males in their mid-20's actually like that shit.
The other stuff I laughed my way through is that doom metal shit that's become a big deal all of a sudden. Don't be fooled...Isis, Sunno))) and whatnot are still on that Cookie Monster shit. Okay, it's one thing if you're gonna vouch for Kylie Minogue or Annie or whatnot. At least they're not bad to look at. But don't moonlight in metal, okay. I used to say that liking Phish was a lifestyle choice rather than a musical one, but that's clearly more true of metal. Do you know anyone who's really into metal and lives a normal life? Scratch that, do you know anyone into metal, period?
But if I can't tell the difference between the good stuff and the bad stuff, what's the point? It's like why I never got into bluegrass music. I know bluegrass is pretty much an untouchable genre, but it's amazing how the truth can come out when you're not actively using your blog to get laid. In terms of rock, pop and hip-hop and whatnot, you can tell the difference between top-notch acts and derivative, cliched shit. We all knew that Bloc Party was fantastic and The Bravery wasn't fooling anybody. It's why "ATLiens" is the platonic ideal for mainstream MC'ing, whereas "King" definitively proves that T.I. is not an actual human, but rather a Southern rap cliche-generator programmed by Texas Instruments.
But wouldn't cliche bluegrass be redundant? By definition, it works within such a clear set of parameters. Once you start fiddling with the formula, it becomes something other than bluegrass. The only guide we really have is if they're old, it's probably good. Sort of like in jazz where if they did a gang of drugs, it's probably good. Which makes Nickel Creek the bluegrass Wynford Marsalis or something.
What this all sort of leads to is Pitchfork's "Top 200 Singles of The '60's" list, which I've pretty much ignored even though their guys trying to wax rhapsodic about soul music offered manifold opportunities for uninentional hilarity. But when I really think about it, their only list that's worth a damn is the one from the '90s and the ones at the end of each year. Why? Well, the '80s one is pretty useless because in 2006, the vast majority of music from that era is more influential than impressive. The one from 2000-2005 was the result of an emergency meeting that declared Arcade Fire wasn't cool to like anymore. Awesome stuff; "Funeral" gets lauded for its emotional resonance and the same people hit it with the backlash the moment it resonates with listeners.
And the '60's/'70's stuff has great music, but it lacks the reason why the '90s one works: they're strictly from an academic standpoint. I would imagine that the vast majority of critics like myself grew up in the '90s, getting our minds blown by Radiohead, Smashing Pumpkins, Dr. Dre, Biggie and whatnot on a firsthand basis. The same goes for Arcade Fire, Sufjan, Interpol, etc. Meanwhile, the vast majority of us weren't alive in the '70s. Meaning that the only albums that we really get to hold up as masterpieces are passed down through a filter of hipster lore. It's pretty pointless because there's been 30 years to correct misconceptions and no one is going to let their youth play a factor into it.
Most people were pretty amazed that Kraftwerk got ranked higher than "Zoso," but here's what I think: if this list was made by Pitchfork's equivalent in 1982, I'd be amazed if Led Zeppelin was on that list at all and "Trans-Europe Express" wasn't #1. And that plays into why I think most critics try to vouch for pop music these days: they don't want to get caught with their pants down. The '60's list was basically filled with a lot of enormous pop hits, but would their equivalents really be into that shit back then? Who'd want to be the guy whose influential magazine shat on Motown?
And that sort of lays out the problem with criticism today. Chuck Klosterman laid it out pretty well in "Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs" that Lucinda Williams won't matter in the future and the Dixie Chicks will, a large part due to their popularity. It was a pretty slick move likening them to Van Halen, although I doubt he anticipated the Dixie Chicks' ongoing "Right Now" phase.
I guess that's the conundrum if you hope to be a music critic lifer; not only do you have to keep up with today, but you also have to prepare yourself for thirty years down the line. How many shitty bands have justified their critical revulsion by saying "even Rolling Stone ripped on Zeppelin!"? I thought it was awesome that the latest issue with Zep on the cover had a little side blurb from the guy who shat on their first album and never backed down. So yeah, perhaps I'll be gripped with nostalgia if I do hear "Crazy" in 2036; hopefully, I'll be able to remember that I never liked it.
Obviously, this bothers me a lot. Not so much because Gnarls Barkley is little more than a blacker version of Postal Service. Moreso because people who otherwise aren't into music are saying the name "Gnarls Barkley" far more than they should. Say what you will about Pearl Jam, but the two things I respect about them the most is that a: they had a good enough sense of humor to go by the name "Mookie Blaylock" at one point and b: they had the good sense to change it.
But the bigger problem is that you look at those two songs and go, "that's it?" It's like with "Feel Good, Inc." from last year; nice song and all that, but lacks an amount of cultural force that a definitive song should have. Even the "Whisper Song" was galvanizing in some aspect. I don't even think I've heard "Promiscuous" all the way through. I've seen the video a few times and I've noticed two things: first, that Timbaland is rocking that inflatable muscle suit from "Gimme Some Mo'" and that Nelly Furtado's really fucking hot for a 50-year old. Beyond that, I sorta lose interest.
Actually, the most intriguing release of the summer is Paris Hilton's "Stars Are Blind" as well as her forthcoming album, "Paris," which got reviewed up at Stylus. It's a great pop culture phenomenon, but the problem is, it doesn't quite go far enough when it comes to answering the questions I want answered. It makes me think back to "Joe Millionaire." Yes, it was a show based on the blatantly misogynistic premise that dating is socially accepted prostitution. But Joe was still a former underwear model who was 6'5" or something, had a full head of hair and worked in construction. Even if he didn't have two nickels to rub together, it's not inconceivable that women would still want to fuck him. I mean, how cliche is the whole "gold-digger marries a wealthy business exec and ends up fucking the Mexican cabana boy while he's at work" thing? If this show really wanted to make a point, Joe Millionaire would look like one of the Van Gundys.
Likewise, "Paris" is based on the misanthropic premise that people are really fucking stupid. Why anyone would want to hear it for a reason other than curiosity is beyond me; it's clear that she lacks any sort of technical ability, and it fails even as gossip rag fodder as well. She didn't write any of the lyrics, so even if you're 99.9% sure that a song is about Nicole Ritchie, there's a chance that its author was really writing about soybean crop rotations.
And yet all the bitching is useless, because it'll end up like "Super Size Me": the message is incredibly obvious, but it'll never reach the people that can actually benefit from it. The chair-moistening gastropod who is unaware that 5,000 calories a day of anything, let alone McDonald's, is bad for him was probably in the other theater watching "Scary Movie," downing a XXL popcorn with extra butter and drowning it with a 128-oz. Coke. Likewise, anyone who's going to buy "Paris" for non-ironic purposes thinks "Sufjan Stevens" is the name of the Indian guy who works at their local Chevron.
We can't change any of that, but I just wish there was an alternate version where the name "Paris Hilton" is removed from it and replaced with "Margot" or something, so we can see how clueless the critical community is about evaluating pop music made by females. Jeff is absolutely correct in his evaluation of this album. Sort of. The production on "Paris" sounds definitively American (read: Scott Storch), and most critics worth their salt would probably be able to point that out. Then again, if "Margot" was some sort of Scandinavian pop princess, the same critics would likely be lauding it for her ability to grasp the American pop paradigm.
Confused yet? Well, you should be. It shows why I can't trust any music critic that professes a claim for "pop music" as we usually think of it, i.e., something that wouldn't be better served jammed into something like "rock" (nearly any three-to-five member band with guitars), R&B or whatnot. Critics who really like pop music are like rappers who actually sell drugs and kill people; I'm pretty sure they don't actually exist in real life.
Because let's face it: what is a music critic gig except the culmination of years upon years of elitism? And you're gonna waste your stump on obviously subpar shit that's beloved by the masses? By the way, this also explains my disdain for Lil' Wayne, but that's another story. Sure, you may go to a hipster bar and see a copy of Madonna's first album in the jukebox, but there's also a copy of "Spiderland" as well, and I know which one gets put on far more often.
I can't trust any praise of a pop album because it always, always, always seems to be tinted by what pop music critics (and let's face it, males mostly make the narrative here) want out of their girlfriends. How do I know this? Think about all the songs and albums that have been curiously adopted (in that it's diametrically opposed to bread and butter stuff like Arcade Fire, Sufjan, Interpol, etc.) by the cognoscenti over the past few years..."Toxic," "Crazy In Love," "One Thing" (which still blows moose cock, by the by), Robyn, Annie, M.I.A., Ciara, Kelis, etc. Notice anything? That's right: no white boy mainstream rock and certainly no R&B created by black males. Unless we're talking about "Ignition (Remix)," which is an exception because as I've said before, it's on a Mike Tyson/Ron Artest/Cam'ron circa "Y'all Can't Live My Life" level where you feel as if you're receiving a transmission from another planet.
Even though it's under the auspices of pop, it's fairly certain that melody isn't playing much of a role here. If that were the case, The Delays would be critical monsters and "Bleed American" would be every bit as well-regarded as anything Liars have put out. I'll give these people their Motown and so forth; you can actually sing along to it because there's melodic structure. Modern R&B is basically rap without the rapping.
Combine liberal guilt and a severe lack of sex and you've got the lines that determine what's good pop and what's bad. M.I.A.: Exotic! Leftist! Rich! Hot! Robyn: Swedish! Watches Chappelle Show! Annie: Swedish! Sad because her boyfriend's dead! Lily Allen: Rich! And so forth.
Look, I know how it is with women; basically, if they're hot, guys will turn any small quirk of theirs into some sort of enormous display of personality plus. Likewise, when men start evaluating pop music made by women, it's like what happens when I take a shot of Jager during a night out: all bets are off. Did you know that there are people who think Missy Elliott is some sort of musical genius? Jeff calls her the black Rosie O'Donnell, but I think she's an update of the Beastie Boys; I'm glad she exists and she's probably good for music, but if you really think about it, the first album's the only one that actually holds up. And even "Supa Dupa Fly" has a couple of those tired-ass slow jams that no one ever asks for. Seriously, I started listening to "Kelis Is Here," and even that has a couple of those tired-ass slow jams that no one ever asks for.
But she's most like the Beasties in that 90% of the praise that goes towards them and not their producers is misdirected. You think Missy Elliott would be where she is if her mentor was Jazze Pha or Poke & Tone? And although "Miss E..." is generally the most well-regarded of her albums, it's not a coincidence that Timbaland's best beats went there. But I might as well just come out and say it: "Get Ur Freak On" is the most overrated fucking song of all time and it has everything to do with those unlistenable, unlistenable lyrics.
Is it really because male critics expect so little out of female artists? I mean, have you actually listened to the whole of "Anniemal"? Okay, "Heartbeat" is pure gold, but if you like "Chewing Gum," you can go turn in your testicles. If you heard the rest of the album played at an upscale clothing store, you probably wouldn't think all that much of it. And Robyn? Well, that was #4, repeat NUMBER FOUR on Stylus' Top 50 list last year and it's one of two albums on that list that I couldn't listen to all the way through because it cracked me up so badly. I just refuse to believe males in their mid-20's actually like that shit.
The other stuff I laughed my way through is that doom metal shit that's become a big deal all of a sudden. Don't be fooled...Isis, Sunno))) and whatnot are still on that Cookie Monster shit. Okay, it's one thing if you're gonna vouch for Kylie Minogue or Annie or whatnot. At least they're not bad to look at. But don't moonlight in metal, okay. I used to say that liking Phish was a lifestyle choice rather than a musical one, but that's clearly more true of metal. Do you know anyone who's really into metal and lives a normal life? Scratch that, do you know anyone into metal, period?
But if I can't tell the difference between the good stuff and the bad stuff, what's the point? It's like why I never got into bluegrass music. I know bluegrass is pretty much an untouchable genre, but it's amazing how the truth can come out when you're not actively using your blog to get laid. In terms of rock, pop and hip-hop and whatnot, you can tell the difference between top-notch acts and derivative, cliched shit. We all knew that Bloc Party was fantastic and The Bravery wasn't fooling anybody. It's why "ATLiens" is the platonic ideal for mainstream MC'ing, whereas "King" definitively proves that T.I. is not an actual human, but rather a Southern rap cliche-generator programmed by Texas Instruments.
But wouldn't cliche bluegrass be redundant? By definition, it works within such a clear set of parameters. Once you start fiddling with the formula, it becomes something other than bluegrass. The only guide we really have is if they're old, it's probably good. Sort of like in jazz where if they did a gang of drugs, it's probably good. Which makes Nickel Creek the bluegrass Wynford Marsalis or something.
What this all sort of leads to is Pitchfork's "Top 200 Singles of The '60's" list, which I've pretty much ignored even though their guys trying to wax rhapsodic about soul music offered manifold opportunities for uninentional hilarity. But when I really think about it, their only list that's worth a damn is the one from the '90s and the ones at the end of each year. Why? Well, the '80s one is pretty useless because in 2006, the vast majority of music from that era is more influential than impressive. The one from 2000-2005 was the result of an emergency meeting that declared Arcade Fire wasn't cool to like anymore. Awesome stuff; "Funeral" gets lauded for its emotional resonance and the same people hit it with the backlash the moment it resonates with listeners.
And the '60's/'70's stuff has great music, but it lacks the reason why the '90s one works: they're strictly from an academic standpoint. I would imagine that the vast majority of critics like myself grew up in the '90s, getting our minds blown by Radiohead, Smashing Pumpkins, Dr. Dre, Biggie and whatnot on a firsthand basis. The same goes for Arcade Fire, Sufjan, Interpol, etc. Meanwhile, the vast majority of us weren't alive in the '70s. Meaning that the only albums that we really get to hold up as masterpieces are passed down through a filter of hipster lore. It's pretty pointless because there's been 30 years to correct misconceptions and no one is going to let their youth play a factor into it.
Most people were pretty amazed that Kraftwerk got ranked higher than "Zoso," but here's what I think: if this list was made by Pitchfork's equivalent in 1982, I'd be amazed if Led Zeppelin was on that list at all and "Trans-Europe Express" wasn't #1. And that plays into why I think most critics try to vouch for pop music these days: they don't want to get caught with their pants down. The '60's list was basically filled with a lot of enormous pop hits, but would their equivalents really be into that shit back then? Who'd want to be the guy whose influential magazine shat on Motown?
And that sort of lays out the problem with criticism today. Chuck Klosterman laid it out pretty well in "Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs" that Lucinda Williams won't matter in the future and the Dixie Chicks will, a large part due to their popularity. It was a pretty slick move likening them to Van Halen, although I doubt he anticipated the Dixie Chicks' ongoing "Right Now" phase.
I guess that's the conundrum if you hope to be a music critic lifer; not only do you have to keep up with today, but you also have to prepare yourself for thirty years down the line. How many shitty bands have justified their critical revulsion by saying "even Rolling Stone ripped on Zeppelin!"? I thought it was awesome that the latest issue with Zep on the cover had a little side blurb from the guy who shat on their first album and never backed down. So yeah, perhaps I'll be gripped with nostalgia if I do hear "Crazy" in 2036; hopefully, I'll be able to remember that I never liked it.
posted by Ian at 4:48 PM
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