Rolling Stone. Independent Films.

This post was going to be about two things: Rolling Stone and... "independent films." The Rolling Stone observation came to me out of the blue the other day, not reading that magazine or anything in particular. I was thinking about how RS always gives short shrift to indie or experimental or non-mainstream bands (unless it's one they've decided to latch onto, and with those you can always tell) and why that is. Then it occurred to me that it's nothing less than the struggle for relevance and, ultimately, survival.

The magazine exists for new readers as one of two things: either a gateway or an imposingly inescapable deathtrap. Jann Wenner certainly understands this, and that's why you might have 15 separate five-star reissues from, say, 1974 but nary a perfect score for months if not years in the modern age. Rolling Stone, as crusty and outdated as it has become (and perhaps has been for some time), is, to many, the authority on rock music from something like 1965 to 1978. These were the glory days, although critics from the period might not use those exact words to describe the purportedly ruthless and manipulative publication. Since punk and the independent/underground scene got started, they've never really been on top of things (or so I comprehend) and thus serve as a print version of the rock 'n roll hall of fame, making polite gestures toward new acts, but reserving most real enthusiasm for their 47th interview with a McCartney or a Jagger or whomever else has decided, against logic and good taste, to put out yet another tired album. For those with lifetime subscriptions still stuck in musical reactionary mode on classic rock radio, this strategy has worked perfectly.

However, if they started getting exciting about anything new or different (outside of the traditionally ghettoized David Fricke [he even has his own sidebar safely away from the real music]) they'd also have to acknowledge that they're not the authority on such matters. (Who that might be depends largely on your particular tastes, including print/online, but pretty much no one can fuck with The Wire.) Rolling Stone would become a minor music tabloid with trashy drug stories and occasionally interesting liberal political pieces, retaining essentially no place of importance in popular culture. One can only hope.

---

Much less to say about independent film. One thing I've noticed since coming to Seattle, although it has nothing to do with the city in particular, is that people use the phrase "independent film" in the same way they might mention a dental exam or cleaning their gutters. It goes like this: "So, yeah, last weekend we [bowed to the cultural peer pressure and] watched this 'independent film'. Ugh! It was, like, totally weird. I'm glad that's over." To be fair, I probably share similar feelings about reality television, so it's not as if I'm entirely unbiased myself. I tend to not argue the point about such things, either broadly or even if I've seen the specific movie in question. I just kind of chuckle mirthlessly to myself the same way I do when I read that George W. Bush wants to enlist the armed forces to fight bird flu, or that the United States has refused to participate in the Montreal Climate Change Conference. It's either laugh or suffocate painfully in the grip of our idiotically unthinking and increasingly narrow-minded culture.

---

PS Coldcut's SolidSteel show on Resonance FM was about as good as radio gets. (Which, on a streaming connection, isn't transcendent but still near-thrilling.)

Labels: ,

Scarecrow

Scarecrow Video isn't as architecturally pleasing as some of the other monuments to cultural consumption I've visited in Seattle (Elliott Bay Books [so much wood], the downtown library), but it's probably more overwhelming when compared to my previous experiences. I'm actually not sure I've ever been to a truly interesting video store before, so this was something of a shock. It claims to be the biggest video store on the West Coast, but even that didn't really explain much to me, since the only West Coast video store I've been to is the one near Victrola Coffee on 15th.

For the first time I could understand, for example, how it's possible to read Olaf Moeller in Film Comment without just feeling jealous at the movies he knows about. You can actually go to the Uzbekistan section in Scarecrow, and find at least some of what he might have written about.

Netflix is fun and all, but browsing beats searching hands down any time you're looking good movies. It's kind of like the difference between opening a well-stocked refrigerator and being able to request food items from the warehouse three states over, if they're in stock. I don't know if I'll really take much advantage of Scarecrow this year, though, since I'd much rather $5 or 6 at the theater than $3.75 plus tax for a DVD to watch in my room or on our crappy little television. Still, it's good to know that if I absolutely NEED to see a Kenneth Anger film or a Polish sci-fi flick involving a hilarious transsexual love triangle or pretty much anything under the sun, I can.

Labels:

Saturday MP3 #8

Somewhere this week I saw a "five favorite bands" list, and I don't really remember where it was or who wrote it, but of course I had to make one up for myself. Number two, in order of clamoring inside my brain to be included, was Galaxie 500. I'm not sure if that's accurate, or mostly because I finally got my hands on On Fire within the past few weeks, but I'm not ashamed to put them up there.

"Ceremony" isn't actually on the album; it's actually a bonus track originally released on the Blue Thunder EP, but it's quite rousing.

And here's the rest of the list, from which I've chosen to make no further inferences. Feel free to do so on your own if you'd like:
  1. My Morning Jacket
  2. Galaxie 500
  3. Velvet Underground
  4. Aphex Twin
  5. Keith Fullerton Whitman
Galaxie 500 "Ceremony"

MMJ: Part 2

Labels: ,

Jazz?

Last night Charles was telling me, as he sometimes does, that I should like jazz. I have nothing to say one way or the other, right now, other than that I have not really started to like jazz much yet.

Here is my (mostly unheard) pre-2000 jazz collection at the moment:
  • Albert Ayler Spiritual Unity
  • Bill Evans Trio Sunday at the Village Vanguard
  • Charles Mingus Mingus Ah Um
  • Dave Brubeck Quartet Jazz Goes to College
  • Dizzy Gillespie At Newport
  • Herbie Hancock Takin' Off
  • Herbie Hancock Headhunters
  • John Coltrane A Love Supreme
  • Miles Davis Kind of Blue
  • Miles Davis Sketches of Spain
  • Miles Davis Bitches Brew
  • Ornette Coleman The Shape of Jazz to Come
  • Stan Getz/João Gilberto Getz/Gilberto
  • Thelonius Monk Brilliant Corners
---

PY: Ross McElwee/Sherman's March

Labels: ,

Saturday MP3 #7

This week is a mashup of sorts that Matos "linked" to from his CD-R Go! list/mix in the Seattle Weekly, dwelling on the ephemeral nature of music criticism.
It isn't my favorite 2005 recording (that's still Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings' "How Long Do I Have to Wait for You?"), but the Legendary K.O.'s Internet-only "George Bush Doesn't Care About Black People," which runs Kanye West's greatest beat and his public moment across the end goal, is probably the single of the year. It's still relevant, but I'd probably feel better including it if I'd done so a month ago, when it was still freshly up on the Houston rappers' Web page (where you can still find it: www.k-otix.com) instead of, in Net time, ancient history.
As Cousin Cole says about "Foreign Policy," his "Bombs Over Baghdad"/"Killing an Arab" mashup: "You will like this."

The Legendary K.O. "George Bush Doesn't Care About Black People"

Labels:

Less Is Not Always More

It seems as though I have lost internet privileges at the house. I had an inkling that this might when I realized that someone was connected to my iTunes library a while back. I don't normally have iTunes on while I'm on the internet (I use foobar2000 to listen to stuff that's on my C: drive) so this might have been their first discovery. They had intermittent security protection before (I don't know why it wasn't more substantial), but now it seems to be on all the time, hence less blogging.

Not that there's much for you to note this week. It just sort of passed. We're painting the living room tonight and tomorrow, so that'll be... something.

The 2005 year-end lists are starting to appear, with Amazon making a big early push as usual. I haven't been keeping up with new movies as fanatically as I have in the past, so those lists should be particularly interesting. Sufjan Stevens is both #1 at Amazon and "the top act in America" according to the music/mp3 bloggers.

Saturday MP3 #6

A track from the forthcoming Cadence Weapon album today. Rarely the case with music for me, though more frequently in other media, I can't quite tell if I like this song based on what it is or the personality behind it. Fine for me either way, but I don't know about you.

"Currently unemployed but I depend on my friends to contend with my impending impulse to spend."

Cadence Weapon "Oliver Square"

Also, part one of my 74-minute My Morning Jacket Best Of: 1999-2004 or whatever you'd like to call it. Fifteen songs total, with minor editing; most noticeably at the end of the live version of "Golden" and the finale where I messed a little with the ending of "Mahgeetah". I could've probably made that last bit more enjoyable to listen to, but it's more functional than anything else.

MMJ: Part 1

Labels:

Billions and Billions

I stopped in at the Landmark Seven Gables Theater tonight in the University District to pick up this DVD of Mysterious Skin that I won from the Landmark weekly email. I haven't actually been to anything at a Landmark theater since I watched Mallrats at the Uptown with Jack after Teague's Zaireeka party, but I knew they had prize contests, and it only took me two weeks to win.

The real find, though, was this tiny, unbelievably crowded store around the corner called, I think, Cinema Books. The entire store was wrapped in shelves about six feet high completely crammed with books, plus an extra two feet or so stacked up top and leaning precariously out toward the customer. In addition to the shelves were tables buried five deep in art books and old magazines. The back room had years of musty issues of Sight & Sound, Film Review, and basically any movie magazine you can think of, as well shelves of biographies and memoirs rendered nearly inaccessible by the overflow of movie posters. In between all the shelving and tables out front were thousands of postcards, movie stills, and portraits, providing just enough space that I could squeeze by with my bag without knocking anything over. I'd imagine one could shop there for year without discovering all the treasures squeezed into dark corners behind piles stacked on already overflowing rows of every kind of cinema-related book imaginable. I can't even imagine how impossible the cleanup would be after an earthquake, or probably even a firmly slammed door.

Next Wednesday should bring a review of Ross McElwee's Sherman's March on Professor Yeti, which is sort of an expanded version of a blog post I did last spring just after watching it.

Labels:

Monday Night

I walked home tonight after realizing on Friday that none of the hills are really that steep if I walk up First Avenue to Pike or Pine before turning northeast. I stopped in at the record store Wall of Sound, which seems to mostly specialize in electronic, ambient, noise, avant garde, etc. I found the Don't Save Us from the Flames single with the Superpitcher remix that everyone was going crazy for last spring for three dollars, so I couldn't turn it down. I like it quite a bit, but it doesn't utilize the climax quite how I'd wished. The same is true, by the way, about Four Tet's remix of Bloc Party's "So Here We Are". Either I'm going to have to get over it or become a big name DJ so I can get instrumental tracks and whatnot to remix with myself.

In the interest of, well, who knows what, I've got a link in case you want to look at my digital record collection, particularly in case there's something you want. The longest titles and names have been abbreviated, so just hover over them if you want to pop up the full text.

Labels:

Saturday MP3 #5

My copy of Suburban Light is just slightly subpar, since apparently it had seen a bit of wear and tear before I ripped it from the record library. Then again, it's not egregious, so the pops kind of sound like vinyl, especially given The Clientele's retro sound.

I think the first time or two I listened to The Clientele, I wasn't paying attention and thus didn't hear the music right. This is particularly a problem for a band that makes use of either brushed drumming or the softest sticks you've ever heard, understated bass, barely-there guitar and near-whispered vocals. I could've probably picked just about any song from the record, but you get "Reflections After Jane" because of the "guitar solo" at the end, especially right when it comes. Though it might be inaudible on another song by almost any other band, it's a veritable explosion here.

"A richly nuanced intricacy as intoxicating as it is elusive." - All Music Guide

"It doesn't matter what happens with that girl or guy, as long as it's sharply observed and you can wallow in the result with a heavily reverbed and catchy melody." - Mark Richardson on #92 in Pitchfork's Top 100 of 2000-2004.

The Clientele "Reflections After Jane"

Labels:

MMJ


Last night, as you might have suspected, confirmed not just that My Morning Jacket is tops in a live setting, but that they don't seem to have any real competition among the bands I've seen. I mean, the Arcade Fire were pretty great, and I think I remember how great, but it's just not a fair fight.

Also, I recalled how much better I like listening to recorded songs when I have the live version in my head to compare. I can't decide whether it's the memory or whether I'm actually re-hearing the more powerful live version of, for example, "Mahgeetah" when I listen to It Still Moves, but it works whatever it is.

Thus, I'm excited to listen to Z again after last night. I think they played almost the whole record, starting out with the entire first half, replacing "Gideon" with "One Big Holiday". Luckily they played "Gideon" later on, and individually it was probably the highlight of the new material, though "Dondante" was better in context. "Wordless Chorus" was highlighted by Jim James not just hitting the high notes, but completely ignoring pitch and wailing at the top of his voice as high as he could, three steps higher or so than what you get on the record (which seems to be the case with the entirety of "The Way That He Sings" lately). In case you mistake this for a bad thing, it was a perfect example of the onstage exuberance that so immediately draws in even novice listeners at their shows.

I must admit, though, that after the end of "Off the Record" I was getting tired of the loud, upbeat songs, worried that I'd go home slightly disappointed. They finished the main set with "Lay Low," "Dondante" and a mindblowing version of "Run Thru". Though it reminded me that I wish they'd done the same with "Gideon," and maybe they will someday, that section just about killed me. Until they get dark and spaced out and manage to sound like their playing from a deep pit of despair, the ecstatic highs of "What a Wonderful Man," for example, can't be put in proper perspective. From the saxophone on "Dondante" to the crushing middle of "Run Thru," it was almost a little bit scary to watch everyone on stage either closing their eyes, staring at the ground, or near-screaming into the mic, almost like they'd emotionally imploded since the joyful beginning of the show. The dirty fuzz-bass line that announces the triumphant second half of the song sent the audience, except for Charles, into ecstasy, culminating in intermittently erupting applause until they finally crawled across the finish line.

Then they returned for an encore of "Lowdown", "Anytime", a song that barely resembled the original "Pictures of You", and, of course, "Mahgeetah".

Oh, and if I put together my bandemonium from last year as a mixtape, I'll try to post it, though the upload will be long and tedious.

Labels:

Delicious Sidebar

I just noticed that when I tried to load my computer weblog site, it got hung up on the list of del.icio.us links in the sidebar. You should comment if this happens to you often, whatever that term means to you.

I like the idea, but if the execution isn't good, it's probably not worth it.

Scattered Thoughts

You can geek out if you please over at Textura with a Ten Favourite Record Labels piece, profiling the heads of all the labels. Highpoint Lowlife's Beautiful Tactile Objects series makes me wish I had a turntable and record-buying funds.

On an unrelated note, I've been thinking about how Seattle's high cost of living takes into account things like mountains and waterfront (among other, totally different qualities), which, while nice, I certainly don't enjoy to the extent that other people probably do. This has made me wonder whether it's worthwhile to stick around after the year of volunteering is through, regardless of whether I attempt to live abroad. Not that money is my only consideration, and a large part of it will probably depend on whether or not I development a particularly strong attachment to the area or specific people in it, but is it sensible for me to try to live here when I could be just as happy somewhere less popular or less "interesting"? Granted, there are probably plenty of places where I couldn't stand to live (eg. rural anywhere), but I feel, as always, like I ought to explore my options. One of a number of larger questions I'm attempting to answer for myself.

Labels: