In our first “From the MoSS? Pit” dispatch, we teased that we would be attending the War on Drugs/Dirty Beaches show at Mission Creek. Yet no post materialized on Music or Space Shuttle? Trust me, it was for your own good. Dirty Beaches was a total letdown (rambled through two songs from the album, then droned on for 30 minutes). War on Drugs singer spent half the night yelling “Whoo!” That gave the crowd something to do, mimicking each one for the majority of the set. The sound sucked—but it was Gabe’s, so what else is new?!
But Sleigh Bells…well, yeah. Absolute fucking dominance.
Sixteen songs from their two albums. Relatively good sound at another venue notorious for bad sound (IMU Main Lounge). Energy aplenty. Sweet light show. And a great crowd (although smaller than I ever would have imagined—come on, Iowa City!).
I was far from convinced that the show would be a winner, as I endured two travesties earlier in the evening: Donnelly’s Pub was out of Bell’s Two-Hearted Ale, and Elite Gymnastics tried to scare everyone out of the IMU with its opening act. As scary as the absence of ale might sound, trust me, the Elite Gymnastics fiasco was much worse.
Constant shrieking guitar; off-kilter live drumming performed by someone wearing a “Fuck Real Life” shirt; a lame karaoke-style video display, which didn’t seem to help the vocalist, as he stopped “singing” (read: mumbling) at one point and then pointed at the video projection and said “these are the lyrics I should be singing, so, um…Iowa City!” It was bad, bad, bad. Which surprised me, as the recorded material on Ruin is pretty good. Alexis mentioned during the SB set that this was Elite Gymnastics first tour—a surprise to absolutely no one in attendance.
I did not take video of EG. I wouldn’t do that to my phone.
But I did grab some footage from the SB set. First up, the pre-concert intro music and set opener “Demons” (the lights come up around the 1:40 mark):
And I was able to get Alexis talking about this being their first trip to Iowa, before they lit into “Born to Lose”:
We got seven songs from Reign of Terror and a whopping nine from Treats (but not “Run the Heart,” sadly). They skipped my least favorite song on each album, and played a song that I love but didn’t think was a guaranteed inclusion in the set list (“Leader of the Pack” from Reign). Alexis sounded good, even while crowd-surfing, and they all seemed to be having a good time.
Just like the people in the crowd. (Including the pregnant lady who hung with the MoSS crew for the evening!)
Click here to see our friend Bill Adams’ photos from the show.
The first time I had one of those “I’m an old man who just doesn’t understand kids these days” moments came courtesy of Ke$ha.
She was playing SNL; I was one of about eight people in the entire universe who hadn’t heard “Tik Tok” at this point. Needless to say, the astronaut-flanked, auto-tuned-to-the-max, stars-and-stripes-cape adorned sorta-hottie on the stage didn’t exactly wow me. I was confused, a little pissed, even, but not awestruck.
Even as nothing more than a mainstream pop tune, this was shit. Throw “Tik Tok” up against something like “Bad Romance” and you quickly surmise that the girl with the dollar sign in her name is nothing but a broke-ass poseur compared to the relative sophistication of Lady G.
So you can imagine my knee-jerk repulsion when I heard that Ke$ha was covering Bob Dylan.
And you can’t imagine how much I liked the rendition of “Don’t Think Twice, It’s All Right,” found below. (This is part of an Amnesty International anniversary tribute collection honoring Dylan.)
No auto-tune. No lame club beats. No grating synths. Just a young woman pouring emotion into a song by someone she respects. Some cool strings, too.
This melancholy version doesn’t match the whimsy of Dylan, but that’s just another reason why I like Ke$ha’s cover. It’s all so unexpected, from the tone she takes to the fact that underneath the auto-tune and stupid party-girl facade there’s an appealing, authentic voice and something resembling an artistic vision. Or at least an idea of how to sound somewhat authentic.
Is it simply good source material that makes it work? Is it nothing more than extremely lowered expectations that leave me impressed, that this really isn’t any better than something you’d hear at any weeknight karaoke session?
Is this one song the music equivalent of Marlon Wayans’ performance in Requiem for a Dream, an absolute one-off of brilliance amid a filmography of Scary Movies and White Chicks?
I’m not counting on Ke$ha completely turning over a new leaf, dropping the idiotic persona in favor of more fulfilling artistry–pulling a Clooney, so to speak. You know, doing some mainstream, money-making gigs in order to do whatever the fuck I want to do (and usually do it well) for the rest of my life.
If nothing else, we’ve got this song to consider. And perhaps she will change.
Let’s hope so…and the sooner, the better. Clock’s ticking…
Todd and I spent the first night of March knocking back “14s” (you know, 7&7s) and the finest beverages offered by Bell’s (the stout and Two-Hearted Ale, to be specific) in the heart of The Mill in downtown Iowa City. While one could go to The Mill simply for the drinks and/or the ambience, we were also there to hear Memoryhouse, a nifty shoegazey/dreampoppy outfit from Toronto.
What we didn’t expect was a killer set by the opener, Tiny Fireflies—described on one blog as a “Chicago pop supergroup.” I don’t know about the “supergroup” classification, but the group was solid, possibly even on par with the headliners.
Tiny Fireflies proved a much more enjoyable experience compared with the last opening act we caught in Iowa City. Of course, that was Kreayshawn, one half of the odd pairing with Neon Indian. We spent a good deal of the Kreayshawn show hanging out on the ped mall or drowning our sorrows at the bar inside the lame venue, the Union Bar. (Or having senior pictures thrust toward us—OK, toward Todd—by under-21 coeds in an attempt to get drinks purchased for them.) So no, the bar wasn’t set very high, but within a few notes of the soundcheck, we knew we were in for something good.
Ethereal, jangly, low-end-driven…well, I could continue to list adjectives, but listen for yourself. The song below is called “Picture Perfect”; it’s the forthcoming single.
You’ll notice at the 30-second mark that two dudes decide to get a closer look at the performance, standing directly in front of the stage, flanking Kristine the singer. As you can see in the video, it was equal parts amusing, annoying, and unsettling?
Anyway, Tiny Fireflies played a handful of tunes; many of them had qualities that brought to mind The Pains of Being Pure at Heart, which is an OK thing to these ears. And they were excited about staying in a hotel with a pool, which was just kinda cute.
Memoryhouse didn’t disappoint when they took the stage. One of the highlights was “The Kids Were Wrong,” the second song on the recently released debut album, The Slideshow Effect. The live drums were augmented by some pounding programmed beats, giving the song some serious backbone. (I moved to get a better angle; please excuse the first 20 seconds or whatever.)
Another highlight came toward the end of the set. The guitar line winds through the Mill, and I think to myself, “How blatant of a My Bloody Valentine ripoff can you get?” until I realized they were covering My Bloody Valentine. I flipped the phone camera on about halfway through the song. (And yes, that is me yelling “Loveless FTW!” at the end of the song.)
The shortest month of the year is often one of the quietest in terms of musical awesomeness. There’s usually little love for the ear canals within two weeks on either side of Valentine’s Day.
2012, though…I don’t know if it’s the Mayans’ prognostication or just some happy accidents, but music blew up in February.
Van Halen returns with Diamond Dave. This is how things should be. (Not that the album is anything to write home about, but DLR belongs in Van Halen.)
Burial puts out a half-hour EP of beats that retain classic Burial traits AND manage to sound as fresh as ever.
Frankie Rose (seen at right in that sexy shot) puts out Interstellar, an album that would have dominated its release date if not for…
SLEIGH BELLS! REIGN OF TERROR! THE ALBUM CONTAINING “COMEBACK KID” AND “BORN TO LOSE” AND “CRUSH” AND “DEMONS” AND “D.O.A.” AND EVERY OTHER INCREDIBLE TUNE WITHIN THIS COLLECTION OF DOMINANCE (except “Road to Hell,” which is the closest thing to a clunker they’ve ever made).
Sleigh Bells also hit SNL on Feb. 18 and, most importantly to yours truly, announced on Feb. 28 that they’ll play a show in Iowa City this spring. #FUCKYEAH
The Sleigh Bells/Iowa City news hit the same day School of Seven Bells completed its trifecta of incredible albums by releasing Ghostory, while Memoryhouse put out a full-length album just two days before a scheduled show at The Mill (a.k.a. a night out for the Music or Space Shuttle? lads).
If this month is indeed a 10 (or, in Spinal Tap terms, 11), how do previous Februarys stack up in terms of music?
Naturally, I’ve made a chart.
How did this line take its shape? The primary data is listed below.
1982
Ozzy Osbourne is arrested after urinating on The Alamo, in San Antonio, Texas
1983
“Menudomania” comes to New York as 3,500 screaming girls crowd Kennedy Airport to catch a glimpse of Puerto Rican boy band Menudo, who are playing six sold-out shows at the Felt Forum
Michael Jackson’s Thriller album hits #1 on the US charts, the first of 37 (non-consecutive) weeks it would spend there on its way to becoming the greatest-selling album of all time
Sonic Youth releases Confusion Is Sex;U2 wages War (but Styx did release Kilroy Was Here and Kenny G deployed G Force)
1984
Elton John marries studio engineer Renate Blauel (lulz)
Recovering from the scalp burns sustained a month earlier, Michael Jackson wins eight Grammy Awards out of twelve nominations, breaking the record for the most Grammys won in a single year
The Smiths release The Smiths; I receive my first cassette (the Footloose soundtrack) for winning the St. Pat’s Grade School spelling bee
1985
Well, we got the following albums: The Smiths, Meat Is Murder; Tears for Fears, Songs from the Big Chair; Whitney Houston, Whitney Houston (I just poured some out)
1986
Absolutely nothing of worth happened, although March 1986 saw Master of Puppets, Black Celebration, 5150, Please, and the single “Live to Tell”
1987
The first five Beatles albums are released on CD
Again, no good new albums, although March shone once more with The Joshua Tree, Among the Living, and Sign o’ the Times
1988
Jacko buys Neverland
Leonard Cohen releases I’m Your Man
1989
Um…well…David Coverdale weds Tawny Kitaen
1990
Billy Idol badly hurt in motorcycle accident, sees role in The Doors minimized
James Brown released from jail after high-speed, two-state car chase
Dinosaur Jr. releases Green Mind
1992
Vince Neil becomes a race car driver
Kurt Cobain marries what’sherface
Tori Amos releases Little Earthquakes; Pantera unleashes Vulgar Display of Power; “Bohemian Rhapsody” gets new life via Wayne’s World soundtrack
1993
Oprah interviews Jacko, we learn about his whitening disorder
2Pac dares white people to buy his second album (Strictly 4 My N.I.G.G.A.Z.)
Radiohead puts out the album they’d probably rather forget
311 releases Music
Duran Duran comes back with the VH1 crowd via “The Wedding Album”
Joey Lawrence puts out an album (whoa!)
1994
Shannon Hoon gets thrown out of the American Music Awards
Green Day drops Dookie; Pavement puts out Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain
1995
Tommy Lee marries Pamela Anderson
Jewel launches her pre-poetry career by releasing an album
1996 (possibly the most eclectic data in this collection)
Former Milli Vanilli band member Rob Pilatus is hospitalized when a man hits him over the head with a baseball bat in Hollywood, while Pilatus is attempting to steal the man’s car
Take That split up!
Prince marries Mayte Garcia
Snoop beats a murder rap
2Pac’s All Eyez On Me receives a middling review from some nerd in the Iowa State Daily
1997
Phish Food is born; Jacko’s first son is born; the Spice Girls’ chart-topping career is born
Blur releases the album with the “Whoo-hoo!” song
Anal Cunt releases I Like It When You Die (sounds charming)
1998
Elton John knighted
Neutral Milk Hotel puts out that seriously overrated In the Aeroplane Over the Sea (it’s good, but c’mon…)
1999
Gov. Jesse Ventura declares “Rolling Stones Day” in Minnesota
Eminem drops Slim Shady LP; Roots go with Things Fall Apart
2000
Santana wins 8 Grammys
The Cure releases their last good album to date (Bloodflowers)
Smashing Pumpkins release that MACHINA piece of crap
2001
Manic Street Preachers play Cuba
Jack Johnson releases Brushfire Fairytales
Los Embarasados allegedly release Tem Graca por Nome on Feb. 30 (according to Wikipedia)
2002
U2 performs at the Super Bowl
Britney Spears puts out the Crossroads soundtrack; Norah Jones releases the inexplicably popular Come Away with Me
2003
Lana Clarkson found dead at Phil Spector’s pad; he’s eventually found guilty of second-degree murder. His wall of sound will have bars on the windows for 19 years
A fire at a Great White show kills 100, including one of the guitarists
50 Cent talks about gettin’ rich or dyin’ tryin’
2004
The wardrobe malfunction seen by millions
Billy Corgan blogs his feelings about D’Arcy (“mean-spirited drug addict”) and James Iha (Pumpkins’ breakup was his fault)
Kanye is a college dropout, according to his debut album’s title
2005
Blink-182 goes on hiatus; Korn guitarist quits after finding God
Bloc Party releases the excellent Silent Alarm
2006
One for the history books: White Lion bassist James Lorenzo joins Megadeth
Belle and Sebastian release another lame album (The Life Pursuit)
2007
Chris Cornell tells Audioslave he needs to be emancipated because of musical differences
Bloc Party spends A Weekend in the City; Explosions in the Sky release All of a Sudden I Miss Everyone
2008
Beach House releases Devotion
2009
Bone Thugs n Harmony crashes MySpace by posting a new song
Pains of Being Pure at Heart release stellar debut; the brothers from the National curate Dark Was the Night; the Black Keys singer had enough time to put out a solo album
2010
“We Are the World” is remade for Haiti benefit
Joanna Newsom spends three discs enjoying the hell out of people (Have One on Me)
As of this moment, I’ve seen zero 2011 Best Picture nominees. All year long, I said to myself and anyone who would listen, “Seems like no good movies are coming out this year.” I changed my tune after seeing the trailer for The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, and it lived up to expectations, but then I found myself saying, “Seems like no good movies are coming out this year that weren’t already done spectacularly in Swedish.”
After watching the Academy Awards last night (with a break to watch The Walking Dead), I see I didn’t miss anything.
The Artist? The Artist?!??!?!!?
THE ARTIST??????
No.
I should have known something was amiss when the Academy proved it couldn’t count, nominating only nine films for Best Picture rather than 10. Even more confusing: Dragon Tattoo was absent from the list. Straight-up confounding: The Tree of Life WAS on it.
And then…this. Not only do I doubt that The Artist is better than half the 2011 nominees (I’d bet on Descendants, Moneyball, Hugo, The Help, and Midnight in Paris), but I’d be willing to bet that The Artist falls short of some non-nominees, and not just TGWTDT: 50/50, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, The Muppets, Drive, The Ides of March, Warrior, Contagion, The Debt, Crazy Stupid Love, Super 8, Beginners, Bridesmaids (which I did see and didn’t like all that much, but still…), Rio, Meek’s Cutoff, Super, Source Code, I Saw the Devil, The Adjustment Bureau…
Remember 2010? You can’t tell me with a straight face that The Artist would have even cracked the nominee list last year. Seriously, what would it have bumped? The only argument I’ll even listen to is The King’s Speech…which, of course, won the big award last year.
This leads to the question…
Which is the bigger travesty: that The Artist wins Best Picture in a weak year, or that The King’s Speech took the crown in a year full of royalty?
To me, it’s the latter. 2010 was the latest “I’ll never watch again moment.” Earlier moments included:
1994: Pulp Fiction and Shawshank Redemption lose to Gump (which isn’t a bad film, but I really, REALLY like PF).
1998: Shakespeare in Love prevails over Saving Private Ryan.
(And if I had really paid attention back then, 1990, when Jimmy “Two Times” lost to Smiles A Lot.)
2010 saw Black Swan, The Fighter, Inception, Toy Story 3, The Social Network, True Grit, Winter’s Bone, and two other films I’ve been meaning to see but haven’t (127 Hours, The Kids Are All Right) lose to something that bore more resemblance to “bad after-school special” than “transcending cinematic achievement.” (And bore it did; I was nearly sawing logs at the halfway point.) I felt The Fighter told a much better story of overcoming obstacles/long odds. I thought Black Swan and Inception were far more fascinating exercises in storytelling. I felt more connection to a cotton-stuffed cowboy as he made his way toward an incinerator than I did to some blubbering Brit.
So as annoying as I found last night’s ceremony, I’ve dealt with greater feelings of disappointment. And as I stated up front, I haven’t seen any of the Best Pic noms from 2011. Until I’ve seen the films, maybe I should just sit here in silence…
DECORAH, Iowa—What started off as an upstanding social outing for area teenagers quickly turned into a display of debauchery following the playing of the Billy Idol classic hit “Mony Mony” on Saturday.
The song was played about two hours into a teen dance at the Harold and Inez Gustafson Recreational Center in the heart of Decorah. The local Lutheran, Presbyterian, and Catholic churches had sponsored the dance and had invited area high school students to attend.
“We thought it would be a good idea to bring young Christians together to enjoy one another’s company and move rhythmically to some harmless tunes,” said the Reverend Howard Oleson of St. John’s Church as he swept empty punch cups, a stray pair of panties, and torn condom wrappers off the rec center gym floor. “Instead, thanks to that numbskull DJ we hired, I witnessed something called ‘felching.’”
The dance started promptly at 7 p.m. with a speech by Father Anson Dunmore from St. Matt’s Catholic Church and a group prayer before Say It Loud Productions disc jockey/owner Sheldon Cullen got the party started with “I Can See Clearly Now” by Gospel Gangstaz, “Flood” by Jars of Clay, and “Higher” by Creed.
“Not my typical opening fare,” said Cullen when reached via cell phone. “I usually like to open with a little GNR, you know, ‘Welcome to the Jungle’ or whatever, or AC/DC’s tried-and-true ‘You Shook Me All Night Long.’ But with all these men of the cloth standing guard, I thought it best to play it cool.
“At least they weren’t holed up with altar servers somewhere, ya know?” Cullen added.
By most accounts, the teenage attendants weren’t really feeling the vibe either. Many of them stood on the outskirts of the dance floor; the dancing populace consisted of six dateless ladies and the occasional male goofball running across the gym.
But at 9:02 p.m., Cullen, who was operating his playlist from iTunes software, meant to click on the somber “Monday, Monday” by the Mamas and the Papas when he accidentally double-clicked the neighboring “Mony Mony.”
Instinct took over. The teens let out a collective howl and sprinted for the center of the room, all yelling out the traditional reply to Idol’s verse: “Hey! Hey what? Get laid, get fucked!” This phrase was repeated eight times throughout the course of the song, growing in intensity with each repitition.
The timeless Billy Idol song "Mony Mony" sends Eastern Iowa teens into a sexualized frenzy.
By the time the song reached the “ride the pony” part, no fewer than 18 female dancers had removed their tops and many of the boys were also strutting around shirtless, clad only in boxers and socks. Simultaneously, a clandestine vodka-spiking had occurred at the punch bowl, and word quickly spread of the new alcoholic menu item.
Cullen, noticing the explosion of repressed sexual electricity in the room, followed the Idol tune with Missy Elliott’s “Get Ur Freak On.” At this point the teens—many of whom had fruit punch–stained faces and clothes due to urgent consumption of the spiked drink—paired off and began what can best be described as “sexual calisthenics.” Those who were without partners began breaking furniture and/or participating in fisticuffs.
With the clergymen taking shelter in closets or outside the building, the fracas continued for another three songs (“Closer” by Nine Inch Nails, “Add It Up” by Violent Femmes, and the aforementioned “You Shook Me All Night Long”) before Cullen calmed things down by tossing on Extreme’s “More Than Words.”
With the spiked punch bowl exhausted and bodily fluids expelled, the students made a break for the door. Rumor has it that most of the kids were in search of Class of 2002 graduate Derek Goebe, who is old enough and lame enough to buy the supplies for a raging kegger.
Oleson said this would probably be the last time the spiritual community tries to host any sort of entertainment activity, although the reasoning might have more to do with finances than morals.
“There’s no fucking way the rec center returns our security deposit now,” Oleson said.
Rather than buy some expensive shit like jewelry or disposable goods such as flowers and candy, send your sweetheart to this Music or Space Shuttle? post, where he/she can listen to the gorgeous sonic assault of MBV (and the visuals are sorta interesting too, in most cases)…
I caught the Foo Fighters performance of “Walk” (I had to look up the title).
The Foos confound me.
I liked their first two albums just fine. The debut had killer singles (“This Is a Call,” “I’ll Stick Around”), fun tunes with funny videos (“Big Me”), and personal faves (“Floaty”). The second album was more of the same, only maybe a little hookier/better. I still find “Monkey Wrench” and “Everlong” to be killer tunes years after they were in heavy rotation.
But what they played last night didn’t catch my ear like those early songs. It just sounded like…a slightly cooler, perhaps rowdier, Wilco. (Yes, that’s a backhanded compliment.) Like some dudes who are technically proficient with their instruments flying on autopilot.
For everything that seems cool about Dave Grohl (like wearing Slayer shirts), I can’t get past the Nirvana factor.
Specifically that he was better at what he did in Nirvana (play drums, sing the higher-range backing vocals, throw his drums everywhere at the end of the set) than what he currently does with the Foos (yowl, play power chords, lead the crowd in clap-alongs).
Or that he’s not Kurt Cobain. Which is fine in the sense that he’s not addicted to heroin, dead from a self-inflicted gunshot wound, or married to Courtney Love; but it also means he’s a dude whose songbook, decent as it might be, does not include “Lithium,” “Scentless Apprentice,” “Heart Shaped Box,” “In Bloom,” “Drain You,” “Frances Farmer Will Have Her Revenge on Seattle,” “Pennyroyal Tea,” “Smells Like Teen Spirit,” “Verse Chorus Verse,” “All Apologies”…
It’s hard for me to watch the drummer from a mainstream-jolting band like Nirvana stand on a stage at the Grammys and do some lame-o “clap-over-his-head” routine to get the crowd “pumped up.”
And come on, Mastodon should have won Best Hard Rock/Metal Performance.
[Update: You should read sambob25’s comment on this post. A differing perspective, but one I won’t—or perhaps more accurately, can’t—invalidate.]
Other thoughts…
We have the answer to the question, “Was John Stamos the absolute low point for the Beach Boys?” The answer, now, is no.
The Band Perry and Blake Shelton performing Glen Campbell songs was kinda cool.
Glen Campbell performing was kinda cool, too. I’m glad he was having a good day; it made his post-performance “Where do I go? Do I go somewhere or shut up?” utterance a bit charming, when on a bad day it would have been rather sad.
I shut off the Beach Boys after about 30 seconds, fired up the DVR to watch the new episode of The Walking Dead, then turned the Grammys back on in time to catch the Campbell tribute.
In other words, I watched the walking dead, then watched The Walking Dead, and then watched the walking dead.
I’d like to apologize for omitting “Comeback Kid” by Sleigh Bells from the February 2012 Music or Space Shuttle? mix tape (which is still fucking awesome; listen to the whole 10-song extravaganza at bit.ly/AqO7Ou).
Here’s the thing: it was a calculated move. I didn’t want the song to dwarf the other nine inclusions on the mix tape; I wanted to devote an entire post to singing its praises…or more specifically, praising the video.
Alexis Krauss staring at me with her big-saucer eyes! Those shorts! Those jeans! (Even if they were stolen from Joe Elliott’s 1988 wardrobe!) The right amount of leg visible under that bathrobe! Those cheerleading moves! That spiky jacket! Alternating between her cool sunglasses and those sexy eyes! That longing look as the song reaches its conclusion! Did I mention those shorts?! That lucky deck chair!
[Madeline Follin of Cults enters the room]
Madeline: What the heck is going on here?
Chris: Oh, hi, Madeline Follin, my rock ‘n’ roll girlfriend.
Madeline: Why is Alexis Krauss on your computer screen?
Chris: Um, I was just mentioning to the adoring Music or Space Shuttle? readership that I think this video is kinda sorta cool. I mean, it’s no “Abducted,” but it’s not bad—
Madeline: What’s so great about this video?
Chris: Derek Miller’s In Utero shirt is pretty cool. That mustard toss was pretty epic. His John Bender-esque fist pump at the end is pretty awesome.
And so another rock ‘n’ roll relationship ends. Madeline Follin, who last summer stood just a couple feet away from me as she performed before a rapturous crowd in St. Louis, finds herself kicked to the curb in favor of another raven-haired vixen. Madeline’s got company; I’ve loved me some rock women over the years. Some have been mega-popular; some are girl-next-door types. For example…
Donna A of the Donnas
When was this?: early 2000s
Initial appeal?: liked the Ramones-style songs in the beginning; liked her look around Get Skintight
Real encounters?: Well, sorta. When they played Gabe’s in Iowa City in 2002 or something like that, my buddy Sam and I were hanging out in back during the opener, having a brew, when Donna R (Sam’s obsession) and Donna F came by and started playing Trivia Whiz. Sam kept yelling out the answers, which may or may not have annoyed the two Donnas. So Sam did the chivalrous thing and gave them $2 worth of quarters; that way he could keep yelling out answers/flirting with Donna R with a clean conscience. At some point in this display of cerebral excellence, Donna A and Donna C came by. I went to say “hi” to Donna A and managed to get out “Durrr-ahhhh-hey!” It was magical.
How did it end?: Once the Donnas became less like the Ramones and more like butt-rock, I was done with Donna.
Janet Weiss of Sleater-Kinney/Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks
When was this?: mid- to late 1990s
Initial appeal?: She reminded me of Maura Tierney (what? I liked NewsRadio…)
Real encounters?: None…I never saw Sleater-Kinney live, nor did I see Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks during her tenure as timekeeper. I did have some college classes with a girl who looked a lot like Janet Weiss and played the drums. She was kinda cool. (And of course I was petrified to have anything to do with her other than bum smokes from her after class now and again.)
How did it end?: That girl from Portlandia seemed jealous.
D’Arcy Wretzky of the Smashing Pumpkins
When was this?: early- to mid-1990s
Initial appeal?: A blonde, too-cool-for-school girl who was a member of one of my greatest musical obsessions…yeah, this was a no-brainer.
Real encounters?: Not really. Saw them twice in 1994; got close to the stage the first time. I remember one of my friends throwing a hotel-sized bar of soap at D’Arcy. His intent was that she would catch it/pick it up and use it as a pick, but realized the millisecond after it left his hand that she might take it as a statement of insult regarding her body odor. (No, I haven’t had a real encounter, but wanted to share the soap story.)
How did it end?: The Pumpkins started to suck after (during?) Mellon Collie, and perhaps I foresaw this image.
Gloria Estefan
When was this?: mid- to late 1980s
Initial appeal?: What, you haven’t seen the video for “Rhythm Is Gonna Get You”?
Real encounters?: I was, like, 12—that would have been awkward. And I didn’t really want to have to meet the Miami Sound Machine.
How did it end?: As it turned out, the rhythm did not get me. (And I started listening to heavy metal, and, aside from an obligatory liking for Lita Ford and the ladies of Vixen, became asexual for a while.)
Madonna
When was this?: mid 1980s
Initial appeal?: the song “Burning Up”; the videos for “Borderline” and “Lucky Star”
Real encounters?: Back then I think I saw many a teenage girl trying to look like her (and failing miserably). I also lived vicariously through that boy in the “Open Your Heart” video—does that count?
How did it end?: Who says it did? She still looks great.
If you have any quirky rock ‘n’ roll loves, tell me all about them in the comments. (Ladies, feel free to chime in, too. Perhaps you can ask my better half about her Jimi Westbrook thing.)
The other day, the heir to the throne (who turns 6 very soon, gotsta get some Phineas & Ferb swag for the DS, yo!) asked me about my favorite songs of all time. Yep, Junior threw down the impossible question for music nerds. I can handle favorite groups/artists (Cure, Beatles, Nirvana, Portishead, and Duran Duran, for starters). I might be able to rattle off my favorite albums, at least #1-4 with confidence (Disintegration, Loveless, Revolver, and The Velvet Underground & Nico).
But songs? To quote Clay Davis from The Wire, “Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit.”
Can’t do it, G. “A Day in the Life” is probably #1, if you stick a gun in my face. “Plainsong” by the Cure is my favorite song of theirs, so I’m sure that’s up there. “The Rain Song” by Zeppelin is one of those songs I love. “Time Has Told Me” and “Pink Moon” by Nick Drake. “Three Days” by Jane’s Addiction. “Love Will Tear Us Apart” by Joy Division. “Scentless Apprentice” by Nirvana. “Enjoy the Silence” by Depeche Mode. “Welcome to the Terrordome” by Public Enemy. “Natural’s Not in It” by Gang of Four. And about 3,534 more contenders I might list. And then you want me to prioritize them?
So I went with the redirection strategy. “I dunno. What are your favorite songs?”
Without blinking an eye, Will came up with his top three.
“‘Beep Beep’ is #1.” (Read: “Celestica” by Crystal Castles. He’s referencing the occasional electronic “beep-beep” noise throughout the song.)
“‘Bathtism’ is #2.” (Read: “Baptism” by Crystal Castles. And no, it’s not a speech impediment. He thought it was some sort of washing affliction, I guess.)
“And then #3 would be that Radio Dept. song.” (Read: some song by The Radio Dept. [shrug])
I admire my son’s definitive opinion, and it’s obvious my influence has rubbed off on the boy. Crystal Castles’ 2010 eponymous collection was my favorite album that year; and my son’s “favorite song of all time” is arguably my favorite song from that year. (I would argue that “Bathtism/Baptism” is the third best song on that album, behind the Robert Smith-vocalized “Not in Love.”)
So you can imagine our collective excitement when I read today that the Canadian duo will land in Croatia to record album #3 in short order, with an eye for a summer release. In the wake of such euphoria, I was left to ask myself some questions…
Chris: What should they name this album?
Chris: Duh. The only acceptable title other than Crystal Castles is Self-titled.
Chris: Why do I think Alice Glass is hot?
Chris: The same reason people think Alison Mosshart or Karen O is hot: the music blinds their vision while amplifying their sense of hearing. And all you hear is passionate vocals, either delivered in reserved/heartbreaking tones (“Celestica,” “Suffocation,” “Tell Me What to Swallow”) or piercing screams (“Baptism,” “Alice Practice,” “xxzxcuzx me”) or, um, I dunno (“Crimewave,” “Untrust Us”) and you just find yourself having these primal reactions to the words, to the voice. And Alice is petite, brunette, dresses in black…that kind of works for me.
(As shallow as this sounds, I feel obligated to point out that Romy from the xx still doesn’t do it for me, even with that voice.)
Chris: Why does Music or Space Shuttle? scribe Todd not like Crystal Castles?
Chris: I don’t know! I always assumed this would be right up his alley, what with his love for Neon Indian and M83. No, they’re not the same, but similar enough in certain elements (the first album plays more like Neon Indian; some of the grandeur of the second album seems a bit M83ish). You can ask Todd yourself by sending him an email at toddisdumb@chrisrules.com (please use the Subject Line “Chris is so cool; what’s your deal?” to ensure a prompt response).
Chris: Why do I like them so much?
Chris: Listen to the lush opening chords of “Celestica.” Listen to the aggression in “Baptism.” Listen to the swell of the music as Robert Smith approaches the chorus of “Not in Love.” Listen to the abrupt synth mashup following each verse of “Pap Smear.” Listen to the sampling of Sigur Ros on “Year of Silence.” Listen to the disturbing, quiet cry for help in “Tell Me What to Swallow.” Listen to the confident groove throughout “Vanished” and “Crimewave.” Listen to the quirky Donkey Kong sample in “Air War.” Listen to the soaring synth against the restrained vocals in “Suffocation.” All of these moments are like fucking dopamine for my ears. That last sentence is the most efficient way for me to state my feelings toward this music.
Chris: Any chance this album won’t disappoint, given my love for the first two albums?
Chris: Sure, there are some reasons to be worried. After two albums, I thought Bloc Party was one of the greatest bands of the 21st century (although unlike Crystal Castles, I thought BP’s second album was a lateral move rather than a step forward). Then they put out Intimacy. [shudder] And you’ll never hear me defend the Crystal Castles live sound, at least based on the recordings I’ve heard (never seen ’em live).
But this is a band that recognized that the 8-bit sound that infiltrated much of its debut couldn’t dominate album #2, so they evolved. Ethan Kath seems to have the perfect muse in Alice Glass. The lone bum song on the second album (a cover song, so it was the lone song Kath didn’t write) was later elevated to untouchable status by collaborating with Robert Smith on a new version, which shows they are shrewd and credible. And they’re traveling to Croatia to record this new album, so I’m guessing they’ll be focused. (Not sure what I mean by that…)
And don’t forget: this band wrote and recorded the world’s greatest song ever (according to my son). They’ve probably got another good song or two…or 12…or 16…
I can’t wait to find out. Until then, we’ll always have “Beep Beep.”
In our first “From the MoSS? Pit” dispatch, we teased that we would be attending the War on Drugs/Dirty Beaches show at Mission Creek. Yet no post materialized on Music or Space Shuttle? Trust me, it was for your own good. Dirty Beaches was a total letdown (rambled through two songs from the album, then droned on for 30 minutes). War on Drugs singer spent half the night yelling “Whoo!” That gave the crowd something to do, mimicking each one for the majority of the set. The sound sucked—but it was Gabe’s, so what else is new?!
Music or Space Shuttle? 