Here at Music or Space Shuttle? we feel like we should be asking the tough, hard-hitting questions. This week we continue our series of polls where we force you, the thoughtful reader, to choose between two random artists. You may not always like either selection but you have to pick one. (None of that “I’d rather stuff my head in the sand until I suffocate and die” third option crap.)
With the 2012 Grammys coming up, it seems like the perfect time to put Bon Iver up against Arcade Fire. In 2011 indie rock band Arcade Fire shocked the world when their record The Suburbs won the Grammy for Album of the Year. Their win was so surprising that award presenter Babs Streisand didn’t know if the band’s name was The Suburbs or Arcade Fire. This year, indie rock darlings Bon Iver have been nominated for both Record and Song of the Year Grammys.
It has been said (by me) that a win in a MoSS? poll can often prove to be a very good Grammy predictor. Could a win for Bon Iver in the prestigious MoSS? Desert Island Music Poll be a precursor to winning a Grammy? Only you the voters can decide.
So what will you decide? Listen to Arcade Fire’s Funeral and Neon Bible or Bon Iver’s For Emma, Forever ago and Bon Iver for the rest of your days? Vote below and please feel free to justify your selection in the comments section.
[Editor’s note: I’ve been under the weather lately, so I thought I would repurpose a music-related humor piece I wrote during my early days as a blogger.]
LOS ANGELES—Pop vocalists Corey Hart and Sammy Hagar received citations for their roles in a head-on collision on Interstate 5 early this morning.
Corey Hart (left) and Sammy Hagar
According to reports filed by officers of the California Highway Patrol (aka CHiPs), Hart was traveling northbound in the southbound lanes of the multilane highway around 1:30 a.m. Officers observed that Hart seemed to be in full control of all of his faculties, and no drugs or alcohol were found in his 1992 Ford Taurus or on his person.
He was, however, wearing sunglasses, which officers believe was a contributing factor in the crash.
Oncoming drivers avoided Hart for nearly a mile, according to witness statements. However, Hart’s luck ran out when Hagar came roaring down the freeway in his 1989 Pontiac Grand Prix at speeds well over 55 miles per hour.
“Hart’s nighttime use of dark lenses coupled with Hagar’s inability to operate a motor vehicle at reasonable speeds, that’s a bad mix,” said CHP spokesman Randy Baddington. “Kinda like a mixtape featuring Corey Hart and Sammy Hagar is a bad idea.”
Hart and Hagar collided, but miraculously neither rocker suffered serious injury. Hagar was cited for refusing to drive 55, despite his insistence that he is simply incapable of doing such; Hart was nabbed for wearing his sunglasses at night.
“Hart was a little surprised to receive a ticket—he went as far as to ask if I was kidding,” said CHP officer Sean Tavin. “I reassured him that I knew better than to masquerade with the guy in shades.”
Mainly unknown weird guy rock band, Miracles of Modern Science, released a video this week that finally answers the question on all music lover’s minds. What would you get if you took 80’s hair band Bon Jovi, 2011 indie rock darlings Bon Iver, and mixed them together into some sort of cross generational pop music stew? To get the answer the MoMS gang take Bon Jovi’s “You Give Love a Bad Name” and sing it in the Bon Iver higher than high register. Then they deliver it to us in an overly dramatic Bon Iver-esque music video.
For those of you that haven’t heard of Bon Iver, the video for their song “Calgary” is below.
For those of you that have lived in a cave for the last 25 years, here is the video for Bon Jovi’s “You Give Love a Bad Name”.
The better half is busting my balls to go to Disney World sometime soon, before our son loses interest in such festive fun. The boy already listens to Crystal Castles and Sigur Ros, so a typical childhood may not be in the cards, at least from an entertainment perspective. (Plus, in my opinion, Disney World is nothing more than an overhyped Adventureland, amiright?)
Apparently the Rodent knows that my son’s musical leanings mirror mine, so he rolled out this gem of a T-shirt: the Waves Mickey Mouse, inspired by the cover of the Joy Division album Unknown Pleasures.
I was making a mix the other day, one that incorporated “Love Will Tear Us Apart,” and I said to myself, “What would be the perfect transition song from Joy Division? A song that will continue the melancholy of Ian Curtis?” Naturally I landed on “Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah,” so this shirt design makes perfect fucking sense.
Unless the next episode of Playhouse Disney involves Daisy carving the lyrics from “Atmosphere” into her torso or Goofy dangling broken-necked from the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse rafters, I’m calling hipster-baiting capitalist-greed bullshit on the Mouse. What’s next, a re-creation of Jane’s Addiction’s Ritual de lo Habitual cover with Mickey, Minnie, and Clarabelle lying naked and intertwined?
Bad form, Mouse. You’ve only strengthened my resolve to avoid your brand of theme-park fun!
(If you’re an asshole and want to buy this shirt, visit the Disney site.)
As you may have already read, there was a period in the late ’90s and early 2000s that I dubbed “The New Music Wasteland”. This was a period in which the music I listened to was no longer considered mainstream music. Radio stations changed formats, popular music took on a totally different shape, and I was left to wander aimlessly through the aftermath.
Now, I wasn’t living under a rock in those days. Even though I quit listening to the radio (All but sports talk. Who knew you could listen to people talk about the same three sports news items all day and not get bored?) I did see and hear what was happening in the world of pop music. It was The Clone Wars. Just like the Evil Empire, record companies took whatever crap was selling and copied it over and over. But unlike The Emperor who pumped out Stormtrooper after perfect Stormtrooper, (except maybe this one) the copies got shittier and shittier as they cranked them out. If we learned anything from the Michael Keaton movie Multiplicity, it was that a copy of a copy is always of lesser quality. Eventually, instead of a handsome movie star you end up with Sloth from Goonies. It happened in all genres of music but it was most notable in three basic forms.
Bellybutton Pop:
It all started with Britney Spears. Who didn’t feel for that young girl? Her loneliness was killing her! She pleaded for us to hit her “… Baby One More Time”. Next came Christina Aguilera with “Genie in a Bottle,” inappropriately asking us all for some release by “rubbing her the right way.” Soon any underage blonde that could hold a tune (Not even that important) had her tits propped up and her bellybutton out for perverts and little girls across the country. Check out these album covers from roughly the same 1-2 year period.
Blonde girl? Check.
Breasts in view? Check.
Bellybutton out? Check.
Lips slightly parted? Check.
Can she sing? Uhhh sort of.
Who cares! Let’s make a record!
Super Dreamy Boy Bands:
Now this trend has been around for a long time. The ’80s had their share of boy bands as New Edition, Menudo, and New Kids on the Block all had various levels of popularity. But in the late 90’s boy bands hit their peak. Groups like ‘N SYNC, 98 Degrees, and Backstreet Boys were all the rage, also to the delight of pervs and little girls everywhere. Don’t be fooled, there was a formula for it all. First, the poppy dance number to get our attention. Then, the slow emotional song to make us all fall in love. I know I couldn’t look into the eyes of any of these guys without them “Tearing Up My Heart”. Come on! Look at these press shots.
The fashion sense. The creepy facial hair. Are they good boys? Are they bad boys? Are they straight? Are they gay?
Who cares! Let’s make a record!
Shit Rock. Or The Horrible Never Ending Cavalcade of Shitty Post-Grunge Rock Bands:
They were usually either some awful Pearl Jam knock off, or some half rock, half rap 311 sounding crap. Judging by these band photos they all must have had the same publicist too.
For some reason it was very important for everyone to know the bands pecking order. Band members got lined up presumably by importance. Lead singer, Lead guitar, everyone else…
“Hey! You in back. Yeah, drummer guy. We’re still seeing too much of you.”
“Ok, no one smile and ….. perfect.”
But, are they any good?
Who cares! Let’s make a record!
Salvation finally came in the form of satellite and internet radio. But in the meantime I had to find alternate methods to satisfy my musical appetite. Naturally, I did what everyone does in times of trouble… look back on better days. Here are a few examples of some artists I rediscovered during this time. Maybe this could serve as a guide if you ever find yourself stuck in your own “New Music Wasteland”.
Pixies
Before there was grunge rock and Nirvana there was The Pixies. Kurt Cobain actually admitted that “Smells Like Teen Spirit” was a conscious attempt to copy the Pixies. He also said The Pixies’ Surfer Rosa was one of his main musical influences. I listened to all things Pixies for pretty much an entire year. This forced my wife to have to listen to all things Pixies. She didn’t mind too much until the Frank Black solo stuff came out. I think she began to feel like Manuel Noriega when the U.S. bombarded him with heavy metal music to get him to surrender. The Pixies were definitely ahead of their time and are worth a listen, but learn from my mistakes. There will be no “hunkering down” whilst the music of Doolittle is playing.
Springsteen
Every few years I see some retrospective or documentary about Bruce Springsteen and end up feeling like I should try to get into his music. I dive into his early work and then remember that I was not born in New Jersey nor am I the son of a coal miner. The music of “The Boss” just doesn’t speak to me like it does other people. Glowing review right? My ambivalence doesn’t mean it’s not work checking out though. There’s some good stuff there you just have to sift through the crap.
The most hilariously awkward moment in music video history
I ate fried chicken this weekend with my fellow MoSS? CEO before playing some cards and catching the new episode of Saturday Night Live. The poultry was not procured from Flav’s Chicken Shack. But I’m going to paraphrase Flavor Flav (and Perez Hilton, as it turns out) all the same: the weekend of Jan. 14-15 was one where the hype could not be believed, thanks to the wonders of live television.
Lana Del Rey—the girl whose first album came out two years ago under her real name, Lizzie Grant, with the title of Lana Del Rey, an album that was quickly pulled from iTunes—hyperventilated her way through her Internet hit tune, “Video Games,” on Saturday Night Live on the 14th. (It was a bad omen when Daniel Radcliffe flubbed the simple introduction.) She got behind on the first verse, threw in some nonsense ad-libs, and forced Todd to look for the silver lining in the performance for the next hour or so while I sat there in a world of disapppointment and our wives railed against the performance/discussed a comparison to Bette Midler (Todd’s and mine, respectively).
It was the tipping point in the delicate style-over-substance tightrope walk she’d been walking for months. I’ve been skeptical ever since seeing how Pitchfork chose to present photo coverage from a live event. And even more so after seeing the video for her forthcoming album’s title track, “Born to Die,” which features Lana “hunkering down” with some dude who could easily have “American Apparel model” on his résumé before he apparently kills her and sets his own car on fire (or something like that). The first time I heard “Video Games,” I found myself quite impressed; now I’m asking, “Can anyone possibly take her seriously for much longer?”
She did recently sign a modeling contract, which makes me think that this singing thing is like Michael Jordan playing minor league baseball for a bit. It was worth a shot and a lot of people paid attention to it. Eventually Jordan went back to doing what he did well (directing a ball through a circle); soon she’ll be doing what she does with ease (looking good).
I suppose that’s one big reason her career hyperdrive was engaged, because, damn, she’s easy on the eyes. But she’s apparently very conscious of every last eye that falls on her, because she looked extremely uncomfortable up there. And my hyperventilation comment is not some bit of hyperbole; it truly looked like she was gassed by the second verse of “Video Games.” But before anyone should feel sorry for Lizzie, it would seem her looks are a big part of what Lana and her team use to gain attention. Meanwhile, fellow Internet sensation Abel Tesfaye (a.k.a. The Weeknd) released three mixtapes in a calendar year, all to at least modest acclaim (the first to very favorable reviews), but for the longest time people didn’t even know the dude’s identity, much less what he looked like. People were left with nothing but the music: nearly 30 songs full of smart sampling, inspired vocals, and lyrics that painted the clearest picture of a hazy party world.
I’ll probably give Born to Die a listen once it hits Spotify, but with 1/100th of the enthusiasm I had last summer. Somewhere I believe the band Clap Your Hands Say Yeah (remember those guys, blogosphere?) is nodding solemnly about the situation Ms. Grant/Del Rey finds herself.
Lana wasn’t alone in her live TV misery this weekend, and unless she went out and role-played that “Born to Die” video after SNL, she probably is the least sore of this group of fallen stars:
Tim Tebow. He completed three passes in the first half of the Broncos game against the Patriots. Counterpart (devil!) Tom Brady completed five passes for touchdowns in the same amount of time. The Patriots outrushed the Broncos, thanks in part to New England TIGHT END Aaron Hernandez rushing for 61 yards, and tacked on nearly 400 yards of passing. The other New England tight end (the one who takes photos with porn stars) caught three touchdowns from Tom Terrific. Tebow ran for a paltry 13 yards and was limited to 136 yards passing. Everyone who made such a big fucking deal about Tebow throwing for 316 yards last week (as in John 3:16!!!!) should note that the Evil Lord Belichick simply rearranged those numbers, causing Tebow to have a below-average game of 136 yards. (And if my Bible study recollection is accurate, the Book of Belichick, Chapter 1, Verse 36 reads “Whilst one’s abstinence can be commended, my quarterback fucks the lady Gisele, and still the gods allow him to accurately throw an eight-yard hook and complete a 12-yard out route at will.”) In this battle of good versus evil, the hoodied reaper reopened a book of revelations about Tebow: he actually really pretty much sucks. Not as a person, but as a quarterback in the National Football League.
The New Orleans Saints. It’s so cute how they let that little boy stand in the middle of the Saints huddle, with real shoulder pads and jersey on, and lead the pregame chants! Look at him bouncing around with the players, so full of energy, so spunky, so…oh, wait, that’s Drew Brees. The NFL’s new passing yardage champ’s enthusiasm couldn’t conquer the road playoff curse of the Saints, even though the 49ers defense did its best to give the game away down the stretch. Yet the Saints allowed the game-winning TD with 9 seconds to go, giving San Fran another “The Catch” moment (I guess) and the Brothers Harbaugh hope for a Super Bowl showdown on Feb. 5. The NFC Harbaugh might hold up his end of the bargain, as the Niners will host the NFC title game, all thanks to…
The Fucking Green Fucking Bay Fucking Packers. My favorite team won 15 games this year, against only two losses. How great for those players! Except that one of those losses came in the single-elimination fun known as the PLAYOFFS! (And the other was against the Chiefs, which is almost as bad, really.) Dropped passes (nothing new, really) were coupled with a string of fumbles (even cult hero John Kuhn had his first career fumble) and the failure to defend a halftime Hail Mary touchdown pass. And the inability to tackle. Or cover receivers on third and long. Or convert fourth down. Or resist the urge to try an onside kick after tying the game at 10. Or whatever the fuck else. Aaron Rodgers was off the mark too, although his running kept the Pack alive for much of the game.
I’m convinced this is State Farm’s fault. Fucking commercials (which I found funny until Sunday evening).
Watching Green Bay suck it up against the Giants pretty much looked like this:
This guy got a Tosh.0 Web Redemption out of his shame. Maybe we’ll see Lana Del Rey on there soon.
This photo might as well adorn the back of a milk carton.
NEWMARKET, Ontario—The Canadian band Glass Tiger’s worst fears have become a reality: despite pleading for fans to not forget the five musicians when they’re gone, most people do not recall the band’s existence.
The average music fan was unable to identify the band by name when played a snippet of “Don’t Forget Me (When I’m Gone),” even though Glass Tiger topped the charts with that song, and collected a grand total of five Juno Awards (whatever those might be) in the mid-1980s.
“Um, um, Bryan Adams!” guessed Susie Brinks, 36, who was wearing a Corey Hart “World Tour ’87″ t-shirt at the time of the on-the-street interview. “I’d never forget that. I had a huge crush on him…and Howard Jones, if you want full disclosure.”
Although Adams did sing backup vocals on “Don’t Forget Me,” it seems fair to say that Brinks had indeed forgotten Glass Tiger, as she confessed when the answer was revealed.
“Who?” she asked.
In other results:
42-year-old Jake Rima thought the tune was sung by White Lion, which delivered winning tunes such as “Wait” and “When the Children Cry” during the late 1980s. “At least I was in the same realm of the animal kingdom,” Rima said.
Jenny Timcook, 34, said that as a young girl, she and the neighborhood kids would give “air band” performances of this song and others such as the Bangles’ “Walk Like an Egyptian” and Whitney Houston’s “How Will I Know?” When pressed for the band who sang the song, Timcook replied, “As far as I’m concerned, that song will always belong to ‘Jenny and the Leg Warmers.’”
Stephen Kimm, 33, punched the interviewer in the face and was charged with simple assault.
Members of Glass Tiger were to be contacted for comment, but Music or Space Shuttle? reporters forgot to call them.
And in a related story, Brit-rockers The Outfield have lost your love. This does appear to be an accidental occurrence; in the past, the band repeatedly stated they did not want to lose your love (tonight, to be more specific). Insiders believe the loss may have coincided with the return of Josie, who had been vacationing far away.
Here at Music or Space Shuttle? we feel like we should be asking the tough, hard-hitting questions. This week we continue our series of polls where we force you, the thoughtful reader, to choose between two random artists. You may not always like either selection but you have to pick one. (None of that “I’d rather puncture my eardrums with a grapefruit spoon” third option crap.)
With the public insults flying, this week seems like a perfect time to pit The Black Keys against Nickelback. In this months Rolling Stone, the Black Keys drummer had this quote about the current state of rock…
“Rock & roll is dying because people became OK with Nickelback being the biggest band in the world,” says drummer Patrick Carney. “So they became OK with the idea that the biggest rock band in the world is always going to be shit – therefore you should never try to be the biggest rock band in the world. Fuck that! Rock & roll is the music I feel the most passionately about, and I don’t like to see it fucking ruined and spoon-fed down our throats in this watered-down, post-grunge crap, horrendous shit. When people start lumping us into that kind of shit, it’s like, ‘Fuck you,’ honestly.”
Ouch!
Nickelback came back with an even more scathing response…
“Thanks to the drummer in the Black Keys calling us the Biggest Band in the World in Rolling Stone. Hehe.”
Easy Nickelback! Lets not get personal here.
So lets vote!
Rock out to “Lonely Boy” and “Your Touch” all day everyday? Or crank up “How You Remind Me” and “Rockstar” for the rest of your days? Vote below and please feel free to justify your selection in the comments section.
Oh, and we are dead even on our last poll so check that one out and vote if you haven’t. Imagine the rush of power you will feel if you are the one to break the tie.
Music or Space Shuttle? 