Charlie, I wish I could say that I have long sought to introduce my friends to this album, but the reality is, that like you, I came about it much later than I should have. My introduction to Patti Smith was at her Hardly Strictly Bluegrass performance in San Francisco, last year. An uber-feminist friend of mine insisted on seeing her, and since I knew her reputation, I stuck around to check it out. I learned then why she is one of the god-parents of punk.
I grew up a classic rock fan, as my parents raised me on Floyd and Zeppelin and the Stones and The Beatles, and most of the rest of that Rolling Stone list, but as a child I got interested in metal. I started listening to Sabbath and Maiden, Slayer and Metallica. I held that out until my teenage years in California, when people started to introduce me to bands like Tool, Dead Kennedys, Skinny Puppy, Tori Amos, Bjork, Bad Religion, and Primus.
My musical journey continued, much like yours, checking out what was out there; what was relevant; what was respected; and what was important, while at the same time, listening to the new and coming acts.
I went through a lull a few years ago though. I had been exploring country, and finding that there are great artists out there, beyond Johnny Cash (whom I adore) and Willy Nelson. I not only realized that my punk and metal years meant that I should love David Allan Coe, but that there are a ton on contemporary country musicians who are labeled Alt, or Indie, who deserve the respect from Nashville that a lot of current garbage gets. Bands like Lucero, Murder By Death, and Devil Makes Three are perfect examples.
So, aside from my history of listening to way too much Slayer, Tool, Pennywise, NOFX, and The Cranberries, I have always tried to keep my ears open. So when my friend said she wasn’t going anywhere until after Patti played, I stuck around.
Wednesday is my day of leisure—work and home life have dictated it so. It is kind of like all the other ones that have preceded it. The only factors that set it apart from the other Wednesdays are that it’s starting to feel like autumn and the City of San José is already in the process of decorating the Plaza de César Chávez with Christmas décor. The air is brisk and the days are getting shorter. With the evening starting earlier, the lunatic brigade is out in full force. My dogs are tired from walking. My mind is tired from thinking. I find the café that I frequent in the afternoons and early evenings. I go in and I get a coffee. I unshackle myself from the doldrums of television and the internet; in exchange, I sit at the same table, at the same café, drinking the same coffee, smoking the same cigarettes. I crack open the same book (well, I do have to finish it.) The darkness of the night sky compels me to put my book down (my eyes are not what they used to be), put on my headphones, put my iPod into shuffle mode, and zone-out. Three songs into my music-appreciation session, “Suedehead” by Morrissey starts to play.
I decided to do some more walking, to see what the mid-week city life has to offer me, nothing more than the same old sea of strangers ebbing and flowing past me. Their banter (both idle and banal) drifts past me. I make my way to the bar. A beer is in order to counterbalance the caffeine that is fraying my already-frayed nerves. As I walk in, “Panic” by the Smiths comes on. I nod my head as I swirl my pint of Guinness, nodding in approval, occasionally lip-syncing to it. Of course, there are some patrons who listen to the song and immediately begin to snort and mouth-breath some profane words of disapproval. C’est la vie. Life goes on, and so does my appreciation.
I don’t remember when or where I first heard Morrissey’s music - or whether it was his solo work or his oeuvre with The Smiths - but I do recall that I was a teenager, and I remember feeling a sort of primal connection to his particular strain of pining and angst-ridden music. Up to that point, I listened to a variety of music (and still do), never committing to a single genre, or mutation of said genre. Though to be honest, I have always been partial to música norteña, baladas and rock music (some subsets more than others.) Then, from some horn-rimmed-glasses-wearing ether, his brand of music with witty, erudite lyrics came into my consciousness. My musical revelation was met with derision of others. Being laughed at by friends, by strangers, by the folks that ask for spare change; comes with the territory. For a good portion of the world at large, Morrissey’s music is as antiquated as the British Empire. As for those who were into him since day one, his music is either on the shelf collecting dust, or they are staunch classicalists (any music that he made after 1995 is deemed blasphemous by them.) Then all of a sudden, in the midst of his irrelevancy, a Moz renaissance began (a resurreción if you will.)
For those of you who don’t track online music services as obsessively as we here at Bay Area Butchers do, Spotify is an online music service that provides its subscribers with access to over thirteen million songs, and complete control over what you are listening to. Imagine having the world’s greatest music collection available to you at all times to build your playlists from, and to show off to friends the things you are listening to.
Internet radio has been developing and increasing steadily for as long as the ability to transmit the necessary amount of data at a high enough rate has been available to the public. In 1994 the Rolling Stones streamed a concert, but the true start began when Real Networks offered the first streamed media in 1995 with a broadcast of a baseball game between the New York Yankees and the Seattle Mariners. Since then, a great number of companies and individuals have jumped on the technology and offered various forms of streamed media. This delivery has ranged from the simplest forms of low-bandwith, low-quality song by song streaming, to pre-arranged playlists consistent thematically and masquerading as radio stations, to existing AM/FM stations offering online listening to their content, to the latest incarnation: user controlled content.
User controlled internet radio has gained ground over the last few years, with millions of users worldwide signing into personalized accounts where radio stations are built around selections made by the user in order to only provide music that fits in with the taste of the listener, rather than the traditional radio format of broadcasting commercially viable songs within a genre. Unlike Pandora, Slacker, Last.fm, and the other internet radio sites out there, though, Spotify isn’t merely streaming music with a theme that you choose. This is a virtual collection that you develop and grow to suit your tastes, all stored in the cloud so you never have to worry about getting more hard drive space, paying iTunes millions of dollars, or having the feds knock on your door because you chose to not pay for all of it.
Nuvo Technologies is a Kentucky based company that develops and sells equipment for distributed audio. Their equipment lets you simultaneously listen to multiple audio sources in multiple rooms, controlled by in-wall keypads, advanced universal remotes, and more recently, iPod, iPhone and iPad. You can listen to things like internet radio, your cable box feed, attached DVD players (even your dusty old BetaMax if you are so inclined) or even your Pandora stations, through their Pandora integration. The ability to connect to your Pandora account has been a popular feature as the use of the service has increased steadily since its introduction, and is representative of the cutting edge nature of advancing media technology. Perhaps tellingly, Nuvo recently added the ability to link your Spotify account to your system in their latest firmware update.
Spotify is currently only available to subscribers in certain European nations, but maybe this ability in the latest Nuvo firmware is a sign that it will soon become available here. The hold-up on American access has been that the major labels in this country will not sign the licensing agreement to the creators of Spotify. It was briefly available in this country after its initial launch, but a cease and desist order from the major labels forced the Swedish company to restrict access to a limited number of European countries. This move has been harshly decried among American music fans and insiders since day one. Perhaps the labels have finally decided to listen to many of the industry experts like Bob Leftsez and signed the licensing agreement. Let’s hope for the best.
Since the announcement that Weezer signed with Epitaph Records back in August 2010, it has been expected that an exodus of popular bands from the major labels out to the independents will occur. Though this hasn’t happened yet, the potential is still there, and many still expect to see it.
For over a decade, hugely successful bands have been trying to figure out ways to escape from the yoke of the corporate oppression of companies such as Ticketmaster and Clearchannel, and the major labels. Famously, Pearl Jam protested Ticketmaster, and wouldnât play any venue in which that company controlled the ticket sales, and Radiohead decided to release their album for free, only signing a single album deal with a minor distributor in order to provide a hard copy for those who desired it. Both of these bands should follow Weezer’s example.
Weezer provides Epitaph with guaranteed sales and revenues, while the label in return can provide the band with the artistic freedom that all of these bands clamor for. The guaranteed sales that Weezer provides allows a label like Epitaph to maintain more niche and less popular bands in its stable, such as Converge and Frenzal Rhomb. This keeps the spirit ofindependent music alive in the wake of the collapsing infrastructure of the obsolete major label system.
So why shouldn’t Pearl Jam sign with Sub Pop Records, or Radiohead with Saddle Creek? Why not have all of these major players do exactly what they have been claiming, which is to break the chains of the corporate dinosaurs and help to promote music for years to come? Go ahead and expect it will happen, as Weezer has now opened the door, and this trickle may be the torrent that finally pushes music business to the next evolution.
Radiohead released an album last week and no one payed attention. Why was that? Because without any label to back it, there was no advertising or marketing to call attention to the new album. This is the first Radiohead album since 1995 to not reach number one, and the lowest charting album since Pablo Honey in 1993. Part of this was the fact that the album release was announced only four days prior. Part of it too is the lack of promotion. They do have a distribution deal with a small label, but they lack the support system that being actually signed to even an independant can offer them. This shows that they should’ve followed the example set by Weezer, and you shouldn’t be surprised if they do in the future.
IDM, or intelligent dance music, is a genre that both is cursed with such a terrible name that it irks all who hear it and are enthusiastic about the music, and blessed with such a terrible name that it acts as a good way to keep out people who wouldn’t like or even just get it.
Genres are generally bullshit, of course, and I think IDM and related genres, techno and electronica, and the artists who get lumped into them, are only justified by being in good company. It’s characterized, I suppose, by its heavy reliance on digital sound manipulation: be it software instruments or sampled sounds. And the musicians you’ll find here are all technical savants, endlessly tweaking circuits and code to produce something perfectly complex and hard to understand.
Sometimes, often with the same artist, and possibly on the same (non-compilation) album, you may find lilting, ambient works or melodic beats and pianos, making for great music to relax, muse, or sleep to.
Glitches, or what sound like glitches, or maybe, what a kernel panic would sound like if you were inside the computer, feature heavily, and have since have birth to entire sub-genres crafted entirely out of pushing analog circuitry beyond its limits. It works well, lending anything from a rising panic to an intense rhythm to music. Rock, punk, metal, and so on, after all, depend heavily on glitchy, unclean music: distortion and overdrive, synthetic effects derived from the way real speakers sound when driven beyond their intended capacity; in the era of the blues greats, hollow-body guitars and primitive amplification gave the music fuzz, clipping, overtones, harmonics.
There’s jazz in there, too. Some of the tracks from Squarepusher are a genuine simulacrum, with the pixelated bits just cutting you a little bit.
I think it’s the glitches, the frenetically paced snares, the overdriven synthesizers you find in artists like Aphex Twin, Autechre, and Squarepusher that lend the best to your ear. It’s something to be terrified of in the modern age; something to lose yourself into with its infinite, fractal, abstract patterns flooding you. No, this is not something to dance to. This can be something to enjoy the complexity of, or chill out to, or hack code with it blaring while you’re caffeinated and/or drunk.
That was a long way to go just to say this: you’ll probably appreciate it if you’re a nerd.
So, recently, our editor came to us butchers here, and asked for a list of our favorite dance songs. I told him to shove the idea up his ass, but he didn’t pay any mind, and one of my fellow butchers, José-Ariel Cuevas, broke from his usual poetic brilliance to compile and present us a three-part list of his favorite dance music. Then DMZ presented a short selection of tracks in his trademark stream-of-unconsciousness style. I’m sorry to have to be the one to tell you this Ariel, but half of the stuff on your lists is utter shite. It’s not your fault though, really. You are just suffering from the same delusion as a large percentage of the population. I am in no way sorry to tell you, DMZ, that Jamiriquai is unequivocal garbage that should never be played anywhere, ever.
You see, what is referred to as “dance music” isn’t actually music at all. It’s just shit, and it’s bad for you. It’s a horrible noise that’s more obnoxious, offensive, and obtrusive than the noises produced by a manufacturing plant (and at least the manufacturing plant also produces a useful product). It infects your ears, and insinuates itself into your brain like a neural virus. It causes your body to twitch and jerk along with it. So while you have deluded yourselves into thinking that you are dancing, in reality you have a seizure. This is a serious medical emergency and should not be taken lightly. If you, or anyone else in your vicinity is suffering from this condition, you should immediately turn off the offending noise, and destroy all copies for the good of humanity. For God sakes people, think of the children!
The very first time I took my little sister out in San Francisco made me very aware of just how fucked up my view of reality is. [FULL DISCLOSURE.. this was just the first time I took my sister out and realized she had no grasp of my plush lifestyle]
I had the whole day off.
We started at Red's Corner. Just to make this intro really easy to understand, I'll sum it up this way...
"Hello little sister... this is"...
Black man 1, 2, 3... Jew 1, 2, 3... White guy 1, 2, 3.. Black man 1, 2...
Anyhow...
Towards the end of the night, we walked up to the front door of a Jazz club in my hood and Jimmy.. a 6'5 brother (in his 40's) in a suit who looks like he could kill me in 3 seconds. I introduce him to my sister. "Jimmy... this is my sister. If you've got a younger brother anything like you, I'd LOVE to set him up on a date with her..."
My sister is in shock and ultimately tells me, in private... "I thought you hated Jews and ..."....
[I was such a bad rapper that I actually sat at a table at my favorite coffee shop and had the entire group of black women sitting with me convince someone at another table not to kick my ass while I went to take a piss. Really. That bad of a rapper. Seriously..]
SUCH IS THE LIFE OF A POLISH.. JEWISH... GANGSTAH RAPPAH....
We have a time machine. 20 years ago...
Like all Plafrican Americans, I grew up listening to N.W.A... I bought my Raiders cap and jacket (via allowance). I was tough. I was pimp. I actually had to ask someone was a posse was. So.. like all suburban white kids, I learned how to rap. Kinda. A Raiders jacket, saying "yo momma" a lot, and having one of my friends shove me back into the car as soon as I said something really really stupid was more like it.
But all of a sudden... I felt a rush.. *scratch*.. and the plight of MY people needed to be felt... *scratch*... well, the plight of someone needed to be... *scratch*... *BEATBOX*...
I WEAR POLYESTHER... I WALK WITH A LIMP...
I had something to talk about. I had a message....
I TAKE OFF MY YAMAKA.. YOUR GIRLIE TAKES OFF HER BRA...
I... became... a gangster rapper.
[Goofy, white, glasses, listening to Eazy-E... no.. really.. it was that bad]
We got a crew together. It was Jerry K (Jewish; lawyer), Slinky Slava (Jewish; accountant).. it is kinda funny how everyone in the "crew" actually fell into the stereotype, but anyhow... We had a group of people together, everyone of them a Jew (and then me.. Jew via osmosis).
CUZ I'M JEW LIKE THAT.. I'M HE-BREW LIKE THAT...
Our crew had to represent. We had to be Kosher. We had to like Kielbasa (because sausage is fucking awesome).. and we had to be together. Kinda like.. Oh shit. So we were the Kosher Kielbasa Krew. The worst acronym that ever existed for a rap group. Everyone in the band had someone killed in a concentration camp, beaten to death, and the lives of their immediate family were destroyed by evil in recent memory. Yet our acronym was [not willing to say it... you know what it is].. oh that was horrible.
So we got a hold of pictures from one of their hate zines and re-used it. White pointy hoods.. (with yamakas)... surrounded by stars of david and sausages. We took the acronym back.
I SPIN... HER SHOES GET WET.. AND NOW SHE NEEDS TO LIGHT.. A NEW CIGARETTE...
So our gang went to Marshall's, got white t-shirts, and a bunch of iron-on bubble letters (as well as the fuzzy ones that are squarish..) and came up with the following ways to take the J in JEW back...
WHAT JEW TALKING ABOUT?.. (JEW = YOU) WHAT JEW TALKIN BOUT.. (see.. TALKIN=TALKING, ABOUT=BOUT, cool eh?) JEW KNOW WHAT I'M SAYING.. (JEW = YOU) JAMBA JEWS.. (JEW = JUICE) GET JEW ME A BEER... (uhmm.. nevermind).
...
Bring me a microphone... Bring me a topic... I'll be able to make things happen.
...
Back in the day it was a dream to have a group of friends together. It was more of a dream to have a rap group together and have the ability to put together a few tracks. Having the opportunity to get in front of the [soon-to-be-famous local bands] at random venues and spit a few lyrics was one of the best experiences of my life.
Having the confidence to show up in a Minivan in a ghetto club when you're the only white guy there and the MC scratches the microphone on purpose when you are introduced... [everyone in the crowd gives the "kill whitey" look]...
.. and then freestyling (while nearly pissing your pants).. and totally destroying one of the locals expecting an easy pass on the first round...
Everyone in the crowd instantly shows you some respect. Because you can go on for a few verses.. include the color of his hat.. incorporate his last diss on you.. and, you are creative on the microphone.
...
As a last word, and in all seriousness... calling someone a Jew isn't offensive. If you think it is, you have a fucked up view of reality. Saying the N-word, even academically, IS offensive. Listening to NPR recently, I heard it said over and over again as part of academia.
So...
I GO TO KFC.. ORDER A BIG BUCKET OF CHICKEN... ANY GIRLS AROUND THAT I CAN STICK MY DICK IN? OH SNAP I'M SO FUCKING FRESH... BURN THE MICROPHONE LIKE DAVE KORESH...
I know, I know. I was planning on starting an intro to sound design and production but I've been crazy busy since I made that post. All I've really had time to do outside of work is keep up with some new music and work on some of my own. The rainy season has evidently started here which means I'll be couped up in here on the weekends working on tracks, mixes, shows, and posts.
So what have I been listening to you ask? Is it good?
Well, frankly, it rocks.
I've been on a space rock kick lately mostly inspired by the most recent album from the Austin based band The Sword. The album is titled 'Warp Riders' and it rocks your face into outer space with dual grinding guitars and wicked lyrics that hearken back to the likes of Black Sabbath and Led Zeppelin.
The PRP has a pretty good review from back in August, but why not check it out for yourself? You can listen to the the whole album out over on Youtube. The Sword : Warp Riders Playlist
I've also been listening to a shit ton of SPLATINUM, a Seattle based duo of bass loving space pimps known as Andrew Luck and Adam Houghton (aka Dosadi). Their tracks are awesomely layered concoctions of deep bass, hip hop beats, and a healthy dose of glitch. The recently did a set of shows I sadly missed in San Francisco, but I'm sure they'll be back around soon dropping beats and getting some booties moving.
Their most recent offering is a bass heavy warping remix of Screamin' Jay Hawkins' "I Put a Spell On You" that will definitely be making an appearance in my next mix.
They have several EP's and an album or two up for grabs (and purchase) over on their site and on Soundcloud, I highly suggest you cop some of their free tunes and crank up the bass.
They pushed the meeting again? I hope that it doesn’t end too late. Ok, we are the shit yes I know. Global take over. Check. North America is pioneering. Got it. And…another question! Doh! Ooh…good one actually. OK. We’re done. Duck out before the boss asks me to stay late and…elevator! Howdy coworker! Going to the east bay? You commute from Concord? Ouch!
Hit the street. Gotta make this Bart train to get to the restaurant on time. Don’t want to lose the reservation. Half a cigarette done and I’m headed underground. Going to a concert in Oakland tonight. It is one of my favorite live acts. Gogol Bordello. Never heard of them? Check them out. This is my stop. See ya!
I never remember which exit is fastest here. Oh well, it is only an extra block. Downtown Oakland is so quiet compared to San Francisco. It’s only 6pm. Ok there is the restaurant. I need a cigarette to decompress. There you guys are. No I haven’t checked in yet. Ok table is reserved. Nice! They have Trumer. Bonus. Everything is good here. Yes I’ll have another smoke. Here comes the rest of the crew. They are all wearing t-shirts with something on them. We really look like we are going to a concert. Food was great…let’s get to the show!
The opener is pretty good. Lots of white guys up there but they have great rhythm. What’s up with that? Oh, they are Brazilian. That explains it. Time for a cigarette and a beer. There are Russians out here. Dean would like that. Why are they looking for Parliaments? Weird. Back inside. The show hasn’t started yet? Oh ok. Here they are. What is up with the sound? Seriously. Jesus this is bad. Like being on the lawn at Shoreline. Wow. Just plain aweful. Pot smoke. You can only hear the really hi highs and the bass is really distorted. You can’t hear the lead singer or the violin at all! Jesus! That is funny you are emailing the venue about it! I wonder if they follow the twitter feed for issues. Yes, Gogol’s new songs are way better live.
Smoke break. So the creepy old guy in the band is a perv? Some young girls were really digging him at Oustide Lands and he said what’s up to them after the show. It was funny. Not a bad spot if I do say so myself. That is the key here. Not on the floor but the next level up. Close to the beer.
Ok we are going to follow you to the front. Doesn’t seem that crowded. We are really close. I smell sweaty white people. Oh you are Russian. Hi Sergei I’m Chris. Pretty tame pit. My hat didn’t get knocked off once! No, they’ll do an encore. Wait this is pretty early! It sucks that the Fox is ending shows a little earlier now. Encore is ok. Lots of dancing. Third encore song is ‘Alcohol’? Awesome! Really cool with only three of the band up there.
Let’s just go. It is a school night. We’ll all meet tomorrow for Manu Chao at the Warfield.
Penemue 
