Posts Tagged ‘The Internet

28
Jan
18

Depeche Mode “Some Great Reward”

I picked out this one because I thought it was another robot vs. humans album cover, but it’s not a robot at all but some kind of elevated industrial tower structure, with a huge factory building in the background. In the foreground there’s a young man and woman in wedding attire—it would not be outlandish for me to believe this was an actual wedding photo—kind of an “alternative” one, the romantic embrace in front of an intimidating industrial backdrop rather than a pond with flowers and swans. If you think about it, it makes as much sense—though what it means in this setting, I can’t tell you. On the back is a sliver of a different take of the same photo, with a quote: “The world we live in and life in general.” SO… there you go. Means absolutely nothing. Or maybe not—on the song “Lie to Me”—“lie to me/like they do it in the factory/make me think/that at the end of the day/some great reward/will be coming my way.” Marriage, the factory… you’re smart and cynical enough to know it’s all a load of bollocks. But you can still dance.

I am familiar with Depeche Mode, of course, but I’ve never listened to them. This record came out in 1984, and is on Sire, which was a label I saw a lot of in the 80s. In 1984 I played in two bands, was in school, and had two jobs, so I feel like I missed popular culture entirely—no TV, no movies, very few new records. I stopped being caught up on new records coming out, though I’d heard earlier Depeche Mode and didn’t like them, as at that time I was turned off by anything I thought was remotely pop music, and also stayed far away from anything remotely “electronic” or that even employed synthesizers. I had gone through a “progressive rock” phase in the Seventies, but when punk came around I rejected all of that. But that was just another phase, of course. Now I don’t reject anything, necessarily, and like to take everything in with an open mind if possible, but actually seem to like less music than ever—so essentially, I guess, I’m more opinionated than ever.

On one listening I can tell there are some very hook-y pop songs here, some of which would probably resonate with me after repeat listenings. Remember the old days when you’d buy maybe one record a week or month, that first listening, so exciting, and then you’d try to hold off a few hours for the vinyl too cool down, or until the next day for the next listening, and when the songs would start to take hold, due to familiarity, it would be like a new record. And then you could go deeper, with the lyrics, maybe. I don’t know, but I don’t think people listen to music like that anymore—well certainly not on computers. This record sounds pretty much exactly like I thought it would, so I guess I know what Depeche Mode sounds like, and I’m not going to like them any more now than I ever did. Whenever I look up bands, I’m kind of surprised to see that they’re still playing, but then, why not? If you can make money at it, why would you stop doing that—to work at a haberdashery? Of course—stay in the band! Just try to stay away from the drugs!

Okay, one song here really grabbed my attention so I’m listening to it over. It’s called “Somebody”—nice song title. It’s the least electronic song on the record (which no doubt is why it grabbed my attention) with just acoustic sounding piano and singing (and some tapes of background noise, sounds like people at park). It starts out with some syrupy sweet sentiment that leads you to believe it’s going to drop the irony bomb in about three minutes. But here is the surprise, it’s actually sincere all the way through—but with reservations, questioning, not having it all figured out, but trying. I could paraphrase some of the lyrics, but I kind of hate when people writing about records do that (I know, I did it earlier), and this one works better as a whole. I’m assuming you either know the song, or know how to use the internet and can listen to it if you want to.

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23
Jan
18

Pink Floyd “The Wall”

I am on vacation in the “North Woods” once again, but this time staying at a place with the internet, so I can’t use ignorance as an excuse like last year, but I’m also only here for a few days—at this rustic cabin with a stereo system and some vinyl records—enough records, in fact, to overwhelm me a little; I just spent an hour trying to devise a random system for picking out a record, but seeing how my time is limited, I decided instead to just browse through until I see one I’m curious to hear, then write about that—but limiting my writing time to the time it takes to play. The first thing that caught my eye was Pink Floyd’s 1979 LP The Wall, which I’m sure many of my contemporaries know backwards, but I’ve never actually dropped a needle on, as it came out after the Pink Floyd had fallen out of my favor—for whatever reason. I loved this band a decade earlier—if I’d been asked to guess, I’d have guessed this record was from the Eighties, but not quite. The cover, which is a simple depiction of a brick wall, is more depressing than oppressive, and as it’s a double album, the inside reveals the wall being penetrated by some stoner art, which is little relief. Most of this I feel like I’ve never heard before, so that’s interesting, but it sounds, naturally, like Pink Floyd. The song, “Another Brick In The Wall,” however, I’m more than familiar with, and it’s a song, if I reached the end of my life without ever hearing it again, that’d be just fine.

It’s funny, I was thinking about this record earlier today while I was getting my tire fixed in a remote survivalist style outpost up here, while CNN played silently but closed-captioned and I happened to see the news of this Trump character’s “tweet” about “the wall” he wants to build—seemingly desperately, at the Mexico border. It was my impression that Trump apologists, wanting to alleviate his apparent insanity, keep scrambling to explain that he’s on one hand a “street fighter” who just can’t help his crude and offensive speech, while on the other he’s a sophisticated user of metaphor, and when he talks about “the wall” it merely means “security.” This explanation, however, seemed to enrage him, and he tweeted, “The Wall is the Wall”—emphasizing that no, he means an actual physical structure. This got me thinking about this record, and wondering what it all meant, since I didn’t get immersed in it back in the day. I don’t think this is the time for me to find out what it’s about though, because I’m just listening to it once through, without focusing on the lyrics—which are actually printed on the inner sleeves, though all but unreadable, in a font that might be called “Ralph Steadman.”

It’s weird—in a way, this doesn’t sound like Pink Floyd to me—in a way. Didn’t the band members start feuding with each other at some point?—could this be the beginning of that, or the result of it? Okay, here’s a beautiful song—it’s the first one that grabbed me—called “Comfortably Numb.” This band can put together a lovely pop ballad when they want to, that’s for sure. I realize I’m being kind of dismissive of this record, which I’m sure for some people, this was the record of their youth. It’s okay, call me an idiot. Anyway, thinking about the Trump Wall got me wondering about the similarities of the Reagan years (which this record butted into) with the times we’re now suffering through. I just mean—the support of Reagan—who was obviously brain dead for much of his presidency—if only because of the blanket of power he provided those bastards. I suppose one thing all presidents want is to build monuments to themselves, which maybe isn’t so different than rock stars. But Trump wanting to build this actual wall as a monument to him—that would almost be refreshing, in it’s simplicity and stupidity, if it wasn’t so depressing and frightening.

11
Jan
18

Endless Boogie “Focus Level”

Another double album, though there are only 11 long songs, some mostly instrumental, and some with singing that reminds me a little of the Chinese Electrical Band (my first band, not at all Chinese). I can’t make out a single lyric to save my life. The cover opens up to reveal, inside, a huge painting of a party consisting of a bunch of young people in an era several centuries past; it actually looks to me like a computer generated photo collage treated to look like a painting, but I don’t know, really, and honestly don’t care; I kind of like it, but then there was always something annoying to me about albums that opened to reveal more art—you’ve got the front and back cover! And then there is one of those annoying one sheet inserts for the credits, but it’s mostly more art and tells you very little, like who’s in this band and playing what?

Or who is even in the band. I heard one of these guys—or was it two?—or is there only one?—on the WTF podcast and it was pretty interesting, but I don’t remember any of the details. I’m not supposed to remember things, that’s what the internet is for! Anyway, some of these songs make me think of an annoying roommate who you want to take the guitar away from. But then some of them remind me of the first few times I went to see punk bands in Cleveland (at the Drome) and some of them sounded more like hard rock than punk, but that was okay because it was pretty severe, and heavy, and it was live. And then some of the other songs make me think of high school, going to see a local hard rock cover band at the marina or the county fair; one of those bands who has a cobbled together, homemade “light show” and is playing stuff like that “Slow ride, take it easy,” song (Foghat?) and that “Now you’re messin’ with a… sonofabitch,” song (Nazareth?)—not that any of this is a bad thing, it’s all about positive and visceral memories. In fact, those county fair bands made a much bigger impression on me than Blue Oyster Cult at a sports arena, capacity 12 billion. I thought BOC were pretty wanky, actually, though the bad pot didn’t help, nor the fact that they followed Bob Seger and ZZ Top. Anyway, I really like a lot of this stuff. There’s a fine line between wankiness and art, and if you take the chance to be wanky, sometimes, you might be able to make art you wouldn’t have been able to come up with if you didn’t venture into wankyville.

19
Dec
17

Vikki Carr “Nashville by Carr”

Vikki Carr has always been there, it seems like, but I realized I knew nothing about her. I was reasonably certain that Mr. and Mrs. Carr didn’t have a daughter and name her Vikki. Her story is kind of fascinating, and you too can read about her on the internet if you’re so inclined. I hoped for more from this record, the pun of the title kind of implying it’s her “country record,” but it’s not really very country, though she does do some great songs by some great songwriters, and it’s recorded in (you guessed it) and some heavy studio guys play, but overall, the arrangements strike me as flat as the photo collage on the back album cover. The problem is, the surface of this album cover is a very porous cardboard—actual textured surface, like something you do pastels on, but when you reproduce photos on it, especially smaller ones with a lot of detail, you get fuzzy, flat, sadly unimpressive images (and it doesn’t help that she has a Bride of Frankenstein hairstyle, like the guy singing with the James Gang in 1974—maybe he was influenced by Vikki Carr). The album opens up, revealing a 12 by 14 inch panoramic photo of Vikki Carr sitting on the white fence of a horse farm; the problem is, the art department was so obsessed with symmetry, they put Vikki right in the crease, making her look like a Mad Magazine inside back cover “fold-in.” It’s an appropriate album cover given the arrangements.

Overall, this record strikes me as so uninspiring that I’m listening to it over and over, thinking there must be buried treasure there somewhere, because I expect more from 1970. I keep listening, but no. I guess the one thing that’s good is I can play this record and not get annoyed by it—but is that what you’re shooting for, as a musical artist?—to not annoy people? Okay, here is one interesting thing—she does Kris Kristofferson’s pretty great and fairly over-the-top song, “Sunday Mornin’ Comin’ Down.” Now, this isn’t a gender-specific song, but there is something about the imagery that you just really picture it being a man singing, there, in first person. Is that sexist of me to say that? I don’t mean that I disapprove—in fact, this is the world that I want: women wandering alone through the park, half drunk, watching a father with his son, smelling bacon cooking somewhere, and longing for something from the near or distant past. I guess if I was a DJ, like in public, what I’d aspire to do is play songs that blew people’s minds—just a little bit. So I could see playing this one. It’s a really vivid song—and I have no idea if Vikki Carr was a drinker or not—but it’s kind of hard for me to imagine her chugging beer for breakfast.

01
Nov
08

The Beatles “Magical Mystery Tour”

This record sounded fresher to me than the other two, just now, maybe because I’ve always avoided this one. There’s this fantastic song called “Penny Lane” that I’ve never heard before. I’m kidding. I think what I like about this record is my lasting admiration for a few of the songs. Maybe two. When I was a single digit kid, I had the single of “Hello, Goodbye” which I thought was the perfect dumb pop single–it’s almost frightening–and I still think so, pretty much. But then on the other side of that record was “I Am the Walrus” which completely intrigued me, and maybe was frightening in a different way. I admit, I still haven’t gotten over that “yellow matter custard” business. I imagine there are entire support groups for people who were traumatized by that phrase. It should surprise no one that there is a band called Yellow Matter Custard. But really, right now, I wish I didn’t know that. Sometimes the internet makes the world seem really, really small. But of course, that’s all an illusion. Because with all that information at your fingertips, it’s still impossible to know another person, really. It’s pretty much impossible to know yourself. The internet is just a hall of mirrors. I’m really hating the world, and myself, a little bit right about now. I mean, how many hours did I spend on this glorious morning looking at designer pot and glass pipes on slowly loading, clumsy web pages? The answer is: TOO MANY.




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