Odds/Sods

The Year’s Best Film Score Will Not Win An Oscar

Odds/Sods, , , , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

We here at Rust Is Just Right have other passions besides music, though because of the nature of this site it makes sense that we rarely discuss them; we assume that our regular visitors are not particularly interested in our prediction of how the 2016 campaign will shake out or why we believe this is the year that the Trail Blazers will win the Western Conference, so we do you the favor of not mentioning them.  Instead, for this brief detour, we will discuss a subject that is more universally beloved: movies.

We enjoy many things about the movies, from the simple act of going out to the theater with friends to spending countless hours discussing various theories of film and film criticism.  This past year was a bit of disappointment, with a lot of solid films but few great ones, but in our eyes one of the bright spots was Alejandro G. Iñárritu’s Birdman (even if we were hoping for a biopic of either the Cash Money impresario or the enigmatic NBA player).  While the film’s ambition exceeded its grasp on occasion and often seemed to be in search of a thesis, one had to admire the brilliant acting performances, the whirlwind cinematography, and its overall kinetic energy which kept the audience consistently engaged and on the edge of their seats.  The element that was most responsible for that last quality was the film’s brilliant and innovative score, which was dominated by Antonio Sanchez’s fantastic improvised jazz drumming.

It is rare for a film score to rely so much on a single instrument, much less rely solely on percussion.  It’s certainly a risk to anchor a film with an instrument that to the untrained ear seems to lack the capability of melody, but it’s Sanchez’s ability to work through these potential constraints that makes his score so brilliant.  Sanchez is able to mine different sounds by using every part of his drum kit, and in the process creates melodies that, while not traditional, augment what is happening on screen.  The viewer feels the full range of emotions of the characters onscreen through Sanchez’s employment of different textures and rhythms.  Most notably, the frenetic, jittery drum flourishes perfectly captured the intense personal anxiety of Michael Keaton’s Riggan, as he grappled with both the internal struggle of finding artistic meaning as well as the external difficulties as his production was collapsing all around him.  The drum score is such an important component on the film that when one sees a drummer on-screen acting out the score, it elicits shock and delight from the audience.  These particular scenes are not merely showy gestures, but are significant examples of one of the main themes of the film, that of exploring the line between the stage and reality and how the difference between the two can blur on occasion.  The score left such a mark on me that my first comments to my friends and the theater manager afterwards were raves about the drumming.

But because the Academy is often a ridiculous organization, it has decided that Sanchez’s score is ineligible for the Oscars.  The official reason is that the Academy believed that there was not enough original music and that it was augmented by classical selections, but this ignores basic math and the fact that no one was raving about the incidental use of Tchaikovsky or Mahler.  Of course, this the same Academy that gave an award to The Artist despite its generous use of the theme from Vertigo, finding that appropriation original enough, while on the other hand denying a nomination to Jonny Greenwood for his captivating work on There Will Be Blood because he had the audacity to include a composition that he had written and had performed only once.

Hopefully, enough people will be outraged by this idiotic ruling that the Academy will be pressured into reversing course and restoring the Sanchez score to its rightful place on the list for potential nominees.  However, if that fails to occur, let us hope that the controversy at least gets people to hear Sanchez’s fantastic work and that he earns some new fans as a result.

*Normally we don’t like to use such a clickbait-y headline for our pieces, but the simple direct approach worked best with this particular subject.  We loved the score that Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross wrote for Gone Girl, but this was truly the best film score of the year and one that will undoubtedly leave its mark for years to come.  It’s ridiculous that an idiotic interpretation of the rules will prevent it from possibly receiving the recognition it deserves.

The Best Songs That Use Sleigh Bells

Odds/Sods, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

It’s time once again for another list, but this time we have one that’s a bit more season-appropriate.  Rust Is Just Right is ready to present to you the somewhat-definitive list of the “10 Best Songs That Use Sleigh Bells” that are in no way affiliated with Christmas.

10.  Death Cab for Cutie – “You Can Do Better Than Me”.  A selection that implies “we needed one more song to fill out this list” in more ways than one.

9. Grizzly Bear – “Ready, Able”.  A lot of people love this single off the excellent album Veckatimest, but it always felt a little incomplete for me.  But Grizzly Bear gets this spot because they often use a lot of unique percussion to great effect and should get credit for that effort, and I am at least certain that sleigh bells make an appearance (even if it’s a faint one) in this particular song.

8. Wilco – “Outta Mind (Outta Site)”.  While the raucous “Outtaside (Outta Mind)” has a nifty video, it’s the stripped-down reprise that’s augmented by the cheerful sound of sleigh bells.

7. The Replacements – “Kiss Me On The Bus”.  One of the highlights of the classic album Tim, you can hear the sleigh bells make their appearance on the final chorus, providing an intriguing color to the music.

6. Eric B. and Rakim – “Microphone Fiend”.  Built on a sample of Average White Band’s “Schoolboy Crush”, this is one of the landmark singles from the Golden Age of Hip-Hop and still sounds great today.  Always good to hear a smooth operator operating correctly.

5. The Walkmen – “Nightingales”.  The Walkmen were definitely not strangers to the allure of the sleigh bells, sprinkling their sound throughout their career, most notably on multiple songs from the beloved Bows + Arrows.  But we’re going to give the honor to this lovely track from their swan song Heaven, since it includes moments where the sleigh bells are given their time to shine.

4. The Hives – “Walk Idiot Walk”.  What should a band do as a follow-up for their huge break into the American charts?  If you’re The Hives, you write a single that uses the sleigh bells to keep time in the chorus for no particular reason.  If anything, it at least gives some insight to the casual listener that The Hives are willing to look outside the box of traditional garage rock sounds.  It’s too bad that Tyrannosaurus Hives has been neglected over the years, since it’s a fantastic album.

3. The Beach Boys – “God Only Knows”.  When you fill out your sound with a hundred-piece orchestra, you’re bound to have someone playing sleigh bells for some songs.  We’re going to go with one of the most beautiful songs in the deep catalog of the Beach Boys with this one.

2. Radiohead – “Airbag”.  Radiohead kicks off one of the defining albums of the 90’s with the sound of sleigh bells over sliced-up drum tracks, adding a touch of humanity to an opus about the haunting alienation of technology.  In a song about being miraculously saved from a car wreck, are we to assume that Santa was the savior?

1. The Stooges – “I Wanna Be Your Dog”

I don’t think there’s any argument here with this choice for the top spot.  Once you notice that insistent sleigh bells part chugging along with the rest of those buzzsaw guitars and ramshackle drums, it’s hard to get out of your head, and it adds a strange psychedelic element to the entire enterprise.

So there you have it–the greatest non-traditional Christmas song is “I Wanna Be Your Dog”.  Be sure to include it in your setlist tonight when you’re out caroling!

Time vs. Money: A Debate

Odds/Sods, , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

With the recent release of their latest (and most likely final) album, The Endless River, now is the perfect time to do an article on Pink Floyd.  And since we’re unlikely to review a post-Roger Waters album featuring re-worked leftovers from The Division Bell, even if it was done as a tribute to Rick Wright,* we decided to write up a discussion we’ve had among friends for years, and settle a debate once and for all.  What is the best track from The Dark Side of the Moon: “Time” or “Money”?

vs.

Now, I am sure that there are those of you out there that will claim that neither of these songs are the best tracks from that album, and to that I simply say not only is that irrelevant, it is factually incorrect.  And I am sure that there are those who will say that Wish You Were Here is the superior Floyd album, and even though you would be correct, that’s neither here nor there.  We’re simply going to break down these two tracks (and only these two tracks) using “advanced metrics” to finally arrive to a conclusion that has eluded musicologists for decades.

Does the song feature an unnecessarily long intro?: Yes for both.  While “Money” quickly settles into its memorable groove, “Time” meanders for a bit with an ominous prelude that bears little in common with the rest of the song.  However, that intro does allow Nick Mason to play a drum part that is for once not the part of a beginner, so for his sake, we’ll give the nod to time.  Advantage: “Time”

Does the song feature annoying sound effects that are ridiculously literal interpretations of the title?: Again, Yes for both.  But the cash register noises from “Money” are less irritating than the flurry of alarm clocks and bells that kick off “Time”, the latter of which can provide all sorts of confusion when the song is only in the background.  Besides, M.I.A. proved the musicality of the cash register.  Advantage: “Money”

Are there any notable technical musical feats?:  Or to put it another way, is there anything in the song that music theory nerds would go crazy about while everyone else just nods politely?  And the answer is yes, for “Money”.  That song is an excellent introduction to teach people about odd time signatures, since it is written in 7/4.  People can clap along to the beat while nodding along with the groove, and then the nerd can point out that each measure contains seven beats.  There’s no similar music lesson with “Time”, ironically enough. Advantage: “Money”

Does the song feature the greatest guest backup vocalist performance of all time?: No, to either.  That honor goes to “The Great Gig In The Sky”, the song that bridges our two contenders. Advantage: Neither

Which song has the better “best line”?: “Money” does have one of the few lines with profanity that classic rock radio stations  don’t even bother to bleep with “Don’t give me that do goody-good bullshit”, but “Time” has the eloquent phrase “Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way.”  It’s that kind of self-deprecating attitude that makes one almost forgive the terrible acts of the British Empire. Advantage: “Time”

Which song has the better guitar solo?: While “Money” has a pretty rockin’ solo, the better display of David Gilmour’s technical dexterity and melodic sensibility are the myriad of leads from “Time”.  “Money” gets additional demerits because the solo section is in the much easier 4/4 instead of 7/4 like the rest of the song.  Advantage: “Time”

WINNER: “Time”.  If we tally up the scores, “Time” wins in a 3-2 decision, but even then it should never been in doubt–because Time IS Money, you can add all the winning points for “Money” into the “Time” column (it’s kind of like the square-rectangle relationship).

*This was not said as a slight against the band, just that we are probably unable to offer any opinion beyond “do we like it or not”, so it’s not really worth additional exploration on our part.

The Airing of Grievances: Guns N’ Roses – “November Rain”

Odds/Sods, , , , , , , , View all 2 comments

My first exposure to Guns N’ Roses* (and let’s be honest, “exposure” is the correct term to use when discussing GNR) was the music video for “November Rain”.  Originally, I only saw bits and pieces of the video from the various countdowns and clip shows that made up a large portion of MTV’s programming of the mid-90’s, though interspersed in that footage may have been their performance that one time when Elton John joined them for some reason.  Sure, there’s a strong likelihood that I probably saw a movie trailer that was backed by the strains of “Welcome to the Jungle”, but it never registered with me, so my first association with Guns N’ Roses wasn’t that they were dangerous hard-rockers, but overwrought balladeers.  I say that with the kindest intent possible, because as ridiculous as everything associated with “November Rain” is, I will admit that as a piece of music it still holds up–its movements are well-constructed, it actually generates some passion in the listener, and Slash’s guitar solos are damn good.

But man, that music video…

The saddest moment of my childhood was not when I found out the truth about Santa Claus, but when I realized that nobody could hear Slash’s epic guitar solo outside that church in the desert.  Of course I realize no one would actually hear it because there’s no audience out there in the desert, but it’s the fact that Slash’s guitar isn’t plugged into anything that rammed the message home.  And considering the noise from the helicopter swooping all around to capture that iconic scene, I doubt Slash could even hear himself as he poured his heart out into that solo.  NOBODY CAN HEAR HIS PAIN TRANSMITTED THROUGH THE PURE MAJESTY OF MUSIC!

That said, Slash’s “silence” definitely isn’t the only problem with the video–only Axl Rose could come up with a music video with a budget over a million dollars that runs for over nine minutes and have a narrative that leaves the audience confused as to what exactly happened, and not in a good way.  We can allow that the band uses a good portion of the video to show the fabulous orchestra that they hired for the song, flute and all, and we’re willing to accept the fact that for the sake of narrative this was a romance built to last since the bride-to-be could hang out and smoke cigarettes at a dive bar with the rest of the band (easily one of the strongest foundations a couple can have for their relationship).  We can even appreciate Stephanie Seymour’s wonderfully tacky wedding dress and the subtle nods to the various personalities of the other band members, like the fact that Slash forgot where he put the wedding ring but good thing Duff McKagan is there to save the day.  Still, everybody wants to know 1) Why the hell did that guy dive right into the wedding cake? and 2) What the hell happened to Stephanie Seymour?**  That’s what happens when you cram two acts of the narrative into the last 45 seconds of a video.  You end up asking questions like “Does Stephanie Seymour melt in the rain because she’s a witch?” and “Did these fuckers just pull the ‘this was all a dream’ trick?”

It’s easy to see that this video was the clearest example of the various symptoms that would plague the band for the rest of their career, and was but a microcosm of the ridiculous excess that would plague the enduring debacle that was Chinese Democracy.  Still, this song and video is a definite highlight when this time of year comes along, no matter how ridiculous and nonsensical the entire enterprise is.

Story Time: About ten years ago, when I was on break from college, I was hanging out at my friend’s house, and joining us was his girlfriend at the time.  She was a massive Guns N’ Roses  fan, and was extremely excited to see the video playing on my friend’s TV.  I took the opportunity to mention my various grievances with the video, namely the fact NOBODY CAN HEAR SLASH’S AMAZING GUITAR SOLO and the small fact that the entire video makes absolutely no sense.  This besmirchment of the good name of Guns N’ Roses was too much for her to handle, so she threatened me with eviction from the premises if I said anything else (note: if you recall, this was in fact not her home, but my friend’s).  So I shut up for a good two minutes, before I air-drummed one of those slow fills and sang “Bum Ba-da-dum Bum!”  Despite the fact that I was showing my appreciation for the music emanating from the television speakers, this was TOO MUCH for the woman, and I was yelled at until I left the house.

I don’t think I ever saw her again, and my friend broke up with her not long after this incident.  That’s how you end a story, Axl.

*It bugs the hell out of me that they write their name with the apostrophe after the ‘N’, but what are you going to do?

**Let’s take a second to acknowledge how well Stephanie Seymour has held up over the years as opposed to the trainwreck that Axl became.  Well done, Mrs. Seymour.

I Saw Them Live! Memories From a Foo Fighters Show

I Saw Them Live!, Odds/Sods, , , , , , , Leave a comment

With the release of their eighth studio album Sonic Highways this week, Rust Is Just Right is celebrating with a week devoted to the Foo Fighters.  Today, we reminisce about a favorite concert memory from a Foo Fighters show.

I’ve seen the Foo Fighters live a couple of times over the years, and each time they put on a great show.  I have to give a lot of credit to a band that’s willing to make a stop in Salem instead of skipping over it just to play Portland, even if it means that they have to perform in the footlocker known as the Armory.  That show in particular will always have a special place in my memory as it was the day after my friends and I graduated from high school, and we had one last party together before breaking off for the summer and going our separate ways to different colleges.

But it’s a different concert that’s the focus of our new feature, one the Foos played a couple of years later up in Portland.  Before the show, I had read an interview that Dave Grohl did for Rolling Stone magazine, and he had mentioned that one of the things that he was most appreciative of after ten years of touring with the Foo Fighters was the fact that people in the crowd had stopped throwing Mentos at the band.  If you are unaware of the reason why this was a common occurrence, then you need to take two minutes and watch the video for “Big Me”, helpfully embedded above.  It is well worth your time.  Of course, being the young knuckleheads that we were, my friends and I decided to take this as a challenge, and made sure to purchase rolls of Mentos before the show.  Was it to prove that we were true fans, dating back to the earliest days of the group, or was it just because we were assholes?  The truth, as always, lay somewhere in between.

Our initial plan was to of course wait to see if on the off chance the band decided to play “Big Me”, then we would unleash hell and launch our supply of Mentos at the band.  As the set went on, we were pleased to enjoy a number of the Foos’ greatest hits as well as their hilarious stage banter, but we soon began to get antsy about releasing our payload.  The band was reaching the end of its set, and the three of us reached a consensus that we would start tossing Mentos if the band played anything off their debut album.  The problem was that at this point there were far too many songs off their subsequent releases that required their attention, so there was no guarantee that we would have our opportunity.  The Foos reached their encore, and we weren’t sure how much longer the show would go on, so we decided to start our assault during “Breakout”.

I began tossing individual Mentos as soon as the song started, as did one of my other friends.  Unfortunately, we were just a bit too far away from the stage (we did not have any interest in engaging in any sorts of mosh-pit behavior, so we kept our distance), and our volleys were not reaching the stage.  Nonetheless, we kept picking our spots and tossing candies when an opening developed.  However, one of our friends kept waiting for an opportunity before deciding to strike.  Now, I should tell you that this friend will soon be referred to as “Dr.” due to his eventual completion of his Ph.D. in Physics, so he had a better plan of attack than us.  While my friend and I were encountering the problem of wind resistance as tossed individual candies at the band, our friend quickly solved the problem by refusing to toss individual candies, but instead giving a heave of the entire stick of Mentos at once.

My friend, despite possessing only a small percentage of the average arm strength of an adult male, managed to hit Dave Grohl in the shoulder with his stick of Mentos.

Dave of course was surprised at being hit by the unknown object, and mouthed the words “What the fuck?” as he looked around the stage to see what had struck him.  It took him a second, but he identified the object, and gave a quick chuckle as he continued playing the guitar.  He then reached down, picked up the stick of Mentos and…proceeded to use it as a slide during the bridge of “Breakout”.

It was an unbelievable combination of coincidences, but our juvenile escapades resulted in a truly unforgettable concert moment.  The rest of the audience probably had no idea exactly what it was that Dave Grohl had in his hand that he was using to run up and down the neck of his guitar, but the three of us certainly did.  It could not have gone better if we had planned it.

The Foo Fighters then finished the set with “Monkey Wrench” and it was awesome.

You’re Not As Cool/Smart/Edgy As You Think, Sir

Criticism Criticism, Odds/Sods, Leave a comment

A couple of weeks ago we linked to a commentary published by the New York Times entitled “Streaming Music Has Left Me Adrift.”  The opening paragraph gives hints of a potentially much better piece, one that highlights the connection between musical product and consumer in a much more eloquent fashion.  There was an opportunity to explore how the creation of a physical production of music can help inspire an emotional attachment in the listener, especially when one considers the effort that went into procuring the damn thing in the first place.  Instead, we ended up with the online equivalent of the stereotypical prick who works at a record store yelling at the world at large to get off his lawn.

There is some merit to the complaint that ease of access to an entire universe of music has cheapened our connection with it.  As the author alludes to, it definitely took effort to attempt to seek out music that wasn’t already played everywhere, whether it be to take the time to research through magazines and the like, or simply purchasing albums with the hopes that you got lucky that it was worth the inflated sticker price.  This is an entirely different world from today, where you can instantly search for a band based on a mere mention of their name and then fire up a sample immediately afterward to get an idea of their sound.  If you make a mistake, no problem, all you lost was a couple of minutes of your time; if you’re lucky and find something worthwhile, hey, purchasing the album is only a click away (or selecting it for your Spotify/Pandora/whatever streaming station).  You’ve lost all the risks and have a similar reward, but in the process you don’t experience the disappointment of the lows, but also miss out on the joy of going through all the effort to find a new favorite band.

The article doesn’t spend much time on this conceit, but instead goes in a different direction to discuss the split between alternative/indie and the mainstream.  Again, there are ways in which this could provide an illuminating discussion.  One could explore the different machinations that explain the dissemination of different musical trends, or simply come up with a way to eloquently describe the merits of underground music.  Instead of these potentially worthwhile exercises, the author chose to simply complain that it’s not as easy to impress people with his knowledge of esoteric artists.

The key problem with the entire piece is that the writer reveals that he is forever stuck in high school, trying to position himself as some elite outsider who calls out the masses about his superior taste in music.  The problem now is instead that we cannot properly acknowledge this guy’s pure fucking awesomeness for taking all this time to curate a knowledge of obscure musical acts.  It is now this man’s awful burden that there are now thousands of people that can share in his “love” of particular bands, and woe is him that he can’t immediately judge someone based on the fact that he or she owns the same CD as the author does.

At the heart of the matter is the belief that the author is that music is a dividing force, instead of a unifying one.  He selects new music based on its ability to separate himself from the ignorant masses, and if the mainstream catches on, it signifies a defect.  Instead of being glad that there are potentially more people than ever that can become fans of great music, this fucker is pissed off he has to share.  What a douche.

Also, if you’re going to make your big point by quoting LCD Soundsystem, then you should make sure you fully understand the irony inherent in their song “Losing My Edge.”  Hint: you didn’t get it.

An Incomplete List of SCARY Music Videos

Odds/Sods, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

We here at Rust Is Just Right enjoy the Halloween season, especially since it gives us the perfect reason to indulge in our love of all things horror.  So, of course we’re going to use the holiday as an opportunity to show some of our favorite scary music videos.  We don’t think we have the authority to say that these are the scariest, or that these selections form any definitive list, but we hope you enjoy them in all their terrifying glory.

Before the revival of the zombie craze truly took hold, Phantom Planet made a great video depicting the making of a low-budget zombie horror story for their single “Big Brat”.

I remember jumping for the remote to try and change the channel as quickly as possible once the faces started melting and the shit truly hit the fan when I saw Soundgarden’s “Black Hole Sun” for the first time.

Before Daft Punk won the hearts of the people with Random Access Memories, they had the worst record sales of their career with Human After All.  This may have been partially due to their horrifying video for “Primetime of Your Life”.  Though they more than capably proved their point about the perils of eating disorders, the skeleton motif may have been too effective.

[So that we don’t stress your browser, we’ve got plenty more videos (including a few legitimately terrifying ones) on the next page.]

Continue reading →

The Airing of Grievances: Whitesnake

Odds/Sods, , , , , , , , Leave a comment

We here at Rust Is Just Right try to keep things positive, and avoid easy targets for snark.  One, there’s plenty of other outlets for that kind of dismissive attitude, and two, with so much great music available, why should we dwell on the negative and waste time discussing what’s shitty?  That said, sometimes there is a need for balance, and the constant praise of what’s great can seem repetitive and tiresome.  So, let’s shake things up a bit: instead of seeking out another example for our feature Feats of Strength, let’s take a look at its natural counterpart—The Airing of Grievances.

Now, I’m sure many of you will notice the video and title and think, “Way to go on selecting an easy target.”  What could be an easier target than cheesy, late-80’s hair metal?  It’s the music criticism equivalent of shooting fish in a barrel, or whatever cliche you may feel like applying to this exercise.  But I come today to discuss “Here I Go Again” out of love, not malice.  Sure, it’s not high art, but there’s a lot to appreciate about one of the greatest WINDOWS DOWN/VOLUME UP songs of all-time: a catchy chorus, Tawny Kitaen doing gymnastics on various car hoods (video version only), riffs that…exist.  It’s a veritable cornucopia of awesome components!  Some of this love may stem from its placement in a pivotal scene in the cinematic classic Old School, but who cannot honestly appreciate one of the great Power Ballads of all-time, overly-melodramatic intro and all?

But there is one part that is irredeemably awful, a figurative shitstain on this aural masterpiece.  Last week we discussed the brilliance of the guitar solo in Wilco’s “At Least That What You Said”, and well, this week we have its diametric opposite.  Make no mistake: this is a terrible, terrible, terrible guitar solo.  It begins at around the three-minute mark with an intro lick that sounds like a beginning guitar student learning the basic components of a scale.  That isn’t enough to torpedo the entire solo–plenty of guitarists have recovered from poor melodic choices (even though there is some question of whether we should cut them any slack considering that they could probably take some time to do another take for the album).  But then for the next few measures, the guitarist displays an absolutely complete lack of rhythm, just stumbling over some of the lamest ideas ever committed to tape and not even doing the rest of the band the courtesy of staying in time.  He then finishes off this travesty by tossing in a few cheesy guitar tricks (some random palm-muting and a pinch harmonic thrown in for good measure) before launching into a completely ridiculous double-time scale run up the neck, topped off with a high-pitched bend flourish, with Ridiculous Guitar Face included.  Granted, we are dealing with the dregs of butt-rock here, but dammit man, we should have at least SOME standards.

The amazing thing is that for years I never paid attention to the guitar solo; it was just kind of “there”.  Maybe it was because we would get bored with the song and switch the station, or we were too jacked up that we would talk over it.  I’m not dismissing any theory at this point.  But good God, once I actually listened to the thing, there was no turning back.  It is an absolute travesty.  But let’s not dwell on the negative.  Let’s take the restrictor plate off, and give the red dragon some juice, metaphorically speaking.

Enough With the Fucking Arcade Fire, Already

Criticism Criticism, Odds/Sods, , , , , , , , , , , One comment

One of our primary goals here at Rust Is Just Right is to provide an alternative to a lot of the dismissive snark that is the hallmark of a lot of contemporary music criticism these days.  We believe that in a world that’s overflowing with great music, it’s better to analyze and promote what’s worth listening to instead of attempting to tear down what’s already popular.  Sure, it’s easy to succumb to the temptation of writing something bitingly clever about a band that we don’t like, but it’s not really going to accomplish all that much.  Besides, it’s not our place to decry other people’s tastes.  If you enjoy something, we’re in no place to tell you why you’re wrong–life is simply too short and awful to take away any such joy like that.

Given those parameters, this editorial may seem to run counter to that mission.  Yes, we are going to slag on Arcade Fire, but that’s not the main purpose of this piece.  No, our qualms are with the breathless adulation and coverage that the band receives on an infuriatingly and consistent basis, and how Arcade Fire has somehow in the past decade became shorthand for what’s “good” in “indie rock”.  This unabashed love of the band has frustratingly led to the ridiculous need that many publications and writers to shoehorn a mention of “Arcade Fire” in pieces that are completely irrelevant to the group.

First, we’ll lay all our cards on the table and explain why we don’t like the band in the first place.  Well…Eels wrote a superior album about coping with the deaths of close family members, Pavement did a much better job of writing seemingly-tuneless melodies, and Godspeed You! Black Emperor along with Broken Social Scene did a far better job of simply being a collective of Canadian musicians.  Hell, even the cover of Funeral is infuriating, since it comes off as a rip-off of the art associated with Neutral Milk Hotel’s In the Aeroplane Over the Sea–shit, it even has the same goddamn font that NMH used.  The art just screams “WE REALLY LIKE NEUTRAL MILK HOTEL AND WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT WE’RE COOL LIKE THAT!”  If you want more substantial criticism (beyond this standard rock-critic trope of accusing a group of being derivative of all these other influences), it boils down to the fact that their music is boring, they can’t sing, and have never written an insightful lyric.  They wrote a two-chord song, and they couldn’t figure out how to do it in a key that was in the range of their singer–LCD Soundsystem managed to do that, and came up with one of the greatest songs of the decade despite James Murphy’s limited vocal abilities.  This is a band that ruins their one decent moment, the song “Wake Up”, with an abrupt and inexplicable shift into fucking “Walking On Sunshine”.

Perhaps my frustration with the band can best be explained by their presence in the film “Her”.  It’s an absolutely amazing film and further cements in my mind that Spike Jonze is a true genius, and I was glad that he won an Oscar for his work.  However, I had significant issues with the score.  There was one key scene where the OS “Samantha” composes her own music, and we in the audience here it played back.  It’s twinkly piano music that sounds pleasant on the surface, even if it has no real melodic ideas, and sounds like something an entity with limited knowledge of songwriting would create.  Which seems to fit the idea of a computer attempting a human behavior and approximating that behavior except…it was frustratingly obvious that the piano was played by a human, since the rhythms were wildly imprecise and fingers were lingering too long on certain notes and making the notes stick together and therefore ruining the illusion.  That’s Arcade Fire in a nutshell: humans attempting to mimic machines which are trying to pass off as humans, and failing miserably.

For the most part, it hasn’t been an issue and aside from their presence in an otherwise magnificent film, I’ve been able to avoid Arcade Fire rather easily.  It doesn’t take much to avoid clicking links like “Watch Arcade Fire’s 25 Best ‘Reflektor’ Tour Cover Songs”, even if those links appear everywhere and on multiple sites.  No, the true problem is when the band makes a random appearance in an article that has absolutely nothing to do with them, as illustrated in this review.  Pitchfork’s review of M83’s re-release of their first three albums marked the moment when we officially reached Peak Music Critic Insufferability, as the reviewer attempted to describe M83’s style with this statement: “Arcade Fire are perhaps a better touchpoint for their overall approach: lead with emotions telegraphed big and wide enough to fill a stadium, and let the guitars and synthesizers fall into place around them.”

Now, let that sink in for a second.  Not only is it ridiculous to compare the music of the two bands (since no one who has ever listened to both bands would find a connection beyond “these are two acts that create sounds”–just listen to that video above and explain how it resembles Arcade Fire in any fashion), note that the connection between the two seems to be…that the two groups are both emotive.  This assertion that somehow Arcade Fire was the first group to emphasize emotion in some capacity in their music is completely insane (especially in an era where “emo” was huge) and demonstrates the myopia that afflicts a generation of rock critics in which in order to convey that a musician is “serious” that it must be compared to this one band.  To further underscore how clumsily the point is made in the review, note that the comparison to Arcade Fire is immediately dropped and no further mention is made in the rest of the review.

However, the most ridiculous aspect of the comparison is just simple chronology.  M83’s first two albums were released before Funeral, while their third was released a couple of months after.  Unless those crazy Canadians can bend the rules of time and space, it can be definitively stated that they had absolutely no effect on the French electronic duo.  If you’re dead-set on making some sort of comparison, perhaps another article can be written about how M83 influenced Arcade Fire, but why bother.  I mean, this is a great song that displays subtlety and mastery of melody–something that is difficult to find in an Arcade Fire song.

That’s not the only irrelevant mention of Arcade Fire I encountered this month–in a review of Death From Above 1979’s new album, I learned that apparently we started measuring time in terms of Arcade Fire album releases in the past decade.  To be fair, that isn’t the worst problem with that ridiculous review (which includes gems like finding out that Wolfmother was apparently a dance-punk band), but it once again points to the annoying habit that many rock critics employ of needlessly dropping references to Arcade Fire.  DFA1979 are as bad a comparison as M83 in terms of music, but why the hell should that matter?

These are all symptoms of the general problem of giving Arcade Fire way too much credit than they deserve.  In this feature, we see the band get praise for…incorporating “whoas” in a song, as if having an instrumental swell accompanied by a wordless chorus was a fucking revolutionary act (just one year later, we would see a much better example of this technique from My Morning Jacket).  Arcade Fire somehow also gets credit for “having an auxiliary floor-tom for intermittent bashing” when Radiohead had a hit the previous year doing exactly that (and to great effect).  Even the most diehard Arcade Fire fan has to admit that Radiohead is a much more influential band.  Besides, has this been a real trend?  Sure, White Rabbits used it to great effect on “Percussion Gun” and it helped get people to listen to their fantastic album It’s Frightening, but for fuck’s sake, it isn’t worth tricking me into clicking a link for a goddamn Imagine Dragons video.  More than anything, it just seemed like an excuse for this poor excuse for a Canadian collective to employ extra people to play random percussion, seemingly ripping off Slipknot of all bands (hey, I knew I forgot another random influence of Arcade Fire).

Arcade Fire fans, I mean you no harm.  But please, if you end up working as music critics, please refrain from constantly mentioning your favorite band.  It reflects poorly on all of us.

A List of the Most Infuriating Radio Edits Due to Time Constraints

Odds/Sods, , , , , , One comment

Having spent some time working at a radio station, I understand many of the problems and concerns that come with writing up a playlist and fitting music into the right slots, in addition to the more general concern of finding and maintaining listeners.  So I understand the point of cutting songs down into more manageable slices so they can be shuffled in and out more easily, as well as avoid the possibility of driving away potential ears if an unpleasant song goes on too long.  This is especially the case when songs from bands new to a station’s playlist get added; it’s best to approach with caution to make sure that your listeners are fans.

However, I find that once songs are dropped from current rotation but are maintained in the station’s library shouldn’t have to encounter those same difficulties.  Once a band becomes an accepted part of the format, it makes little sense to me why the radio should continue to play the shortened version of a song, especially when in the meantime many fans went out and bought the album or song and got used to the way it was intended to be played.  With that in mind, here is a short list of the songs that stations need to replace with their album versions immediately.

5. Nine Inch Nails – “Closer”

Now I understand why stations would want to play the radio edit of this song, if simply for the convenience of not going in to edit all the non-PACIFICA approved language themselves.  I say this even though I know all of us twenty years later know exactly what Trent wants to do to someone like an animal.  My main problem is that it also chops off close to two minutes of pure instrumental genius near the end.  I know it’s tough for radio stations to have plain music without vocals playing for extended periods of time, but throw the audience a bone once in a while and toss in the full version every once in a while.  We’re sophisticated consumers at this point, and we know what to expect.

4. Silversun Pickups – “Lazy Eye”

If you only listened to this song when it came on the radio, you would have no idea that this song contains the most beautiful feedback-drenched guitar solo since the Smashing Pumpkins’ “Drown”.  That is, unless you listened to my old radio station.  Our station never got a radio-ready copy of the single, and instead we just played the album version of the song that we had from when we played the song on our specialty new music show.  We simply dropped that version into regular rotation, and somehow managed to survive with a six-minute song getting heavy rotation for a few months.  It can be done.

3. The Black Keys – “Little Black Submarines”

It makes sense that our ultra-hyperactive generation can’t sit still enough through two acoustic verses, that we have to get to the RAWK immediately.  But this kills the beauty of the song in my eyes.  In the radio edit, the acoustic beginning serves as mere prelude to the heavy second part of the song, and especially with the fact that the backing organ comes in so early in this version it feels inevitable that the distortion is going to kick in soon.  With the album version, the first part feels more complete, as if we are listening to two equal songs together.  By drawing out the soft beginning, it also gives more weight and emotion to that kickass second half, and it feels more earned.

2. Interpol – “PDA”; Interpol – “Obstacle 1”

We’ve got a tie at this spot, since I can’t choose between the two of them which edit is worse.  With “Obstacle 1”, the bridge is severely cut, and in a rarity, we even lose some lyrics.  While some may be pleased that there are people that never heard the line “Her stories are boring and stuff”, they miss the opportunity to marvel at Sam Fogarino’s shuffling drums and some more of Carlos D’s unique basslines.

The hatchet-job is even worse with “PDA”, as the ending is completely chopped off in an absolutely graceless manner.  The interplay between the different guitars is one of Interpol’s best musical moments, but apparently we shouldn’t be allowed to appreciate that.

1. Deftones – “Change (In the House of Flies)”

The video version of the breakthrough hit from the Deftones cuts even more than the radio version, but I’ll allow it because 1) the video is pretty great and 2) it helped the band reach a massive new audience.  But the radio version commits the unforgivable sin of fading out just before Abe Cunningham’s drums kick in once again with one of the best fills of the decade as the song ramps up one more time before gradually winding down for the finish.  The minimal damage that would be done by letting the song linger for thirty seconds longer is what puts this edit at the top of my list.

BONUS CATEGORY: SONG THAT WOULD BENEFIT FROM A RADIO EDIT

The Black Keys – Strange Times

I think this is a great song that would benefit if they cut out a repetition of the chorus at the end, as it would benefit from being leaner and meaner.  Luckily, at some point the band realized this, and the band has performed a shortened version when they play it live.