i'll be the death of America

Saturday, April 30, 2005

"I Love the [INSERT DECADE HERE]s!"

I shudder to think of what people will say about the music released during my teenage years. Those years would of course be from between the late 1990s and the early 2000s. I am not necessarily saying that all of the music released during this time period was bad; on the contrary, there has been quite a lot of good music released. However, very little of it has filtered over into the mainstream media. The music which has crossed over onto television and radio, however, has been mostly crass, vapid, and commercialized. People 20s years from now will generalize the time period between the late 1990s and the early 2000s to be almost an update of the 1980s generalization: good music will be overlooked by the mainstream, music with very little substance will be remembered (and mocked), and the pop songs of today will be used to market future products because of their nostalgic and/or ironic value.

People often generalize musical trends. More specifically, they remember the things which were either the most renowned or the easiest to mock. This is certainly true of the 1980s, where synth pop, pop metal, and bad hair are what most people remember from that decade. There is no mention of bands like the Talking Heads, R.E.M., the Smiths, the Cure, X, or even the “Biggest Band of the 80s”, U2. All of these bands fight the 80s stereotype (except for maybe the bad hair part), but they are very rarely brought into the mainstream consciousness. Even a band as big as U2 is separated from the decade, and they have sold millions of albums! The same will most likely apply to today’s music. People typically revere such artists as Bob Dylan and the Beatles for their art, integrity, and message, and some of these people also claim that there is no longer any music being made that is socially conscious or artistically profound. This is, of course, not true. Artists like Mos Def, Bright Eyes, Ani DiFranco, and Guster have all showcased a social awareness, and also a musical ambition that is both enjoyable and admirable. These artists will continue to make good music, and they will be remembered by people 20 years from now. However, they will not be part of the mainstream American consciousness.

Although the advent of the Internet has helped to splinter music trends, there still remains a market for mainstream pop/hip-hop. I am of course referring to such artists as Britney Spears, Justin Timberlake, Lil Jon, and Jessica Simpson. These artists have saturated pop culture to such an extent that is impossible to remove them from one’s mind. I do not own a single CD put out by any of these artists, nor do I actively pursue to listen to their music, but I still know practically all of the words to songs like “Oops, I Did It Again.” This music will most likely not be enjoyed by people in the future, aside from maybe the top of the pop charts, like Britney Spears or *N’Sync. This music, although of little interest to me, still has proven to be capable of stable market dominance. Going further, this music, because of its renown, is therefore easy to parody. Pop culture has grown increasingly narcissistic in the past few years, and it loves to both exult and mock itself. If this trend continues, pop music will be perpetuated for years. Meanwhile, other music trends which have been successful for a time (nu-metal, pop punk) will most likely fade into obscurity, with only well-known bands like Blink-182, Limp Bizkit, and Korn remaining known to a select few, if at all.

Going further with the now inherent narcissism in pop culture, the songs which have come out over the last few years will, inevitably, become the themes to countless disposable commercials in the future. Much like “I Melt With You” for Burger King, these songs will be turned into ads. The result will spark nostalgia in some, but most likely will be sneeringly ironic. This is another growing trend perpetuated by MTV and VH1. I predict that pop culture, although it will remain very much as small minded and forgetful as ever, will continue to grow self-obsessed and will use the past to market the present. Pop culture will become self-perpetuating.

The mainstream is incredibly fickle, but it also grows nostalgic very easily. The popularized songs of today will fade from people’s memories, but they will also be rediscovered within 20 years time. At the same time, music which exists outside of the mainstream will flourish and be remembered. Thanks to the Internet and the rise of independent labels, it is possible to make a decent living off of music without signing to a major label or getting heavy rotation on MTV or the radio. The mainstream pop culture discussed here will always have a market and people to keep it afloat, of course. But subcultures are gaining prominence, and will continue to do so. It will be interesting to see what happens to the musical landscape in the coming years, because I feel that the mainstream music industry will be in for a few surprises.

Thursday, April 28, 2005

"Atlantic City

“Christ, its cold out. This kind of weather makes me hate Norristown even more. Norristown is exactly like Philadelphia, only without an art district, entertainment complexes, or any other sort of thing that would redeem the area’s existence.

I lost my job at the Times Herald yesterday. They said they needed to cut back on distribution, on account of the rising gas prices. No more delivering the paper.

I have no job, I hate this town, and it’s freezing.

Jenny doesn’t even bother to make eye contact with me these days, not that I blame her. She pretty much knows we’re in it now. I don’t think she hates me for being me; she hates me for not being someone else, if that makes any sense. She walks slowly, but not sluggishly, around the kitchen. She pours herself some coffee into that mug of hers, the one with Jesus on it. She never goes to mass, but she always has a cross around her neck. I wish she would come with me to church, just once. They have a new priest-in-training, and Father lets him say the masses. He used to be in the Marines. Everyone knew that part about him before he told us. You could just tell by the way he walked, which words he chose to emphasize when he spoke, the look in his eyes when he spoke at all. The man was crazy, and all he could do was go on and on about the Old Testament. You know, the one where God hates everyone and everything. The one where he smites us by making us live. This new guy is making me hate God.

The bills! I forgot to mail the payment for the utilities! Geez, they were already like two weeks late. My head has just been so gone; I can’t focus. So many problems have just popped up at once.

I forgot to pay the bills, I hate the Roman Catholic Church, I can’t connect with my girlfriend, I have no job, I hate this town, and it is fucking freezing.

We need to get out. We need to go somewhere far. Coast City is pretty cheap… Maybe we should go visit Jen’s parents out in Bergen County… wait, no. Fuck no; she hates them. I know that. Why didn’t I know that?

But Jersey does sound like a good idea. We need to get out of here, out of Pennsylvania. We need to go somewhere bright and vibrant.

I remember when I was a kid, my parents used to always go to Atlantic City. That place was so grand and alive. Beautiful people watching beautiful people toss away chips and sip their drinks. I haven’t a drink is a month now. Yeah, we should go. Atlantic City isn’t too far. We could both use some fun in our lives. Besides, I want to be gone when the paper realizes that I took some money. Oh, the phone…

…that was Johnny. He says somebody nailed the “Chicken Man.” He thought he was hot shit, and now he’s blown to exactly that.

Johnny is kind of a weird guy. He used to give me extra tips whenever I stopped by his office building with the paper. He says us Italians need to stick together, whatever that means. I’m an American, man. So were my father and his father. I’m sick of all this race bullshit. Skin color doesn’t matter, because I get discriminated against because of my wealth, not my race. Besides, what’s so great about being Italian? The last time we were important, we were tossing Christians to lions.

So Johnny wants to know if I would be willing to a “little favor for him.” Guy is real shady, but he kept talking about how much he was gonna pay me… shit, he is going to give me a lot of money for whatever it is he wants done. I could pay off all of the bills, maybe take Jenny out a couple times. Shit, we could maybe even be a romantic couple again.

Jenny seems interested in going to Atlantic City. She smiled at the idea, at least. I missed that. I miss feeling like we’re soul mates and that we could have kids together, maybe even grow old and die together. To die with the woman you love… seems rather romantic.

The folks at the paper definitely know about the mone.

Jenny looks so good in those stockings. Some women just are meant to dress beautifully, and Jenny is one of those women. She could live somewhere really fancy if she wanted to, maybe out in Ambler or something… but she stays with me. Some people are just too stubborn to leave. God, I love her for that.

We are going to be the two most beautiful people in Atlantic City. We are gonna drink, and we are gonna dance. Heh, Jenny is gonna wear her hair up, maybe style it a little bit. We’ll find a cheap motel and get changed into someone else. We’ll become beautiful, happy people. We’ll be happy. Happy. Haha.

Here she comes, and she is divine. I don’t care about the bills or the Roman Catholic Church, I love my girlfriend, I have a job to do, I’ve already forgotten this town, and the weather doesn’t matter. Right now, I don’t care about money or death. Everything dies, that’s a fact. But maybe everything someday comes back.”

Sunday, April 10, 2005

"i was raised on pop punk, so you know it's bad when i think its derivative."

Hey, remember the 80s? What’s that, you weren’t even born until ’86? Well now it doesn’t even matter, thanks to bands like Franz Ferdinand, Hot Hot Heat, and the Killers! I don’t know how it happened, but it seems that oft-mocked decade has suddenly become “hip” and/or “cool” again.
The music that will always be remembered from the 80s is also the most easily parodied, and that is of course pop music (or, if you prefer, “new wave”, whatever the heck that was). Alternative, metal, hardcore, and goth all went through lush creative periods during the 80s. But they all take a backseat to the Diabetes inducing powers of pop music. The bad hair, the bad clothes, and the horrible songs will always be remembered. I remember listening to a lot of ABC, Berlin, and Soft Cell with my friends in high school, but it was always on a pseudo-ironic level. ABC’s “The Look of Love” is such a horribly goofy song, complete with spoken word breakdown, that it demands repeated listening. This song puts anything William Hung ever performed to worse shame. Of course, bit by bit, my 80s pop sugar intake became less and less ironic. Songs like “I Ran” by Flock of Seagulls or “Hungry Like the Wolf” are fun, carefree, and occasionally sexy (especially if you’re listening to a song by the almighty Prince).
While I know quite a few people who have also gone on to really, really enjoy the likes of Rick Springfield and Cyndi Lauper, it still seems bizarre to me that this kind of music is suddenly being recreated. The later 90s were saturated with lame boy band/solo girl pop crap. When punk, emo, and indie became “cool”, I thought that maybe pop music would go away again. I was wrong.
While many people seem to enjoy Franz Ferdinand and the Killers, I myself do not. Granted, the Killers wrote a song that I do enjoy quite thoroughly (“Mr. Brightside”), but then again, so did A-ha (“Take On Me”). Everyone has the potential to write at least one good song. But making a good album is another thing. As for the almighty Franz, I have to be honest: I think that they are boring and incredibly overrated. But whenever one of their songs is played, I still end up listening. I don’t like the band, but their lyrics and posturing are so easy to mock that they become enjoyable for me. But it doesn’t matter to them if I like them legitimately or ironically, because either way I’m still listening.
This is essentially the danger of irony: by enjoying something that you consider “bad” on an ironic level, you basically concede that you secretly like it legitimately. Eventually you break down and admit it. My cousin Dana is about ten years old now. She’ll be just around the right age to enjoy *N’Sync on an ironic level in about ten years. Crap.

Wednesday, February 23, 2005

"Crippled like your Economy"

Sunday night i sprained my ankle. i was attempting to return to some girl her ATM card, and instead tripped, fell into her, and shattered my theory that i was, in fact, so awesome that i was invincible. The woman (her name was Sarah) and my good buddy, Mary, both asked me if i wanted to go to the hospital, but i abstained courteously because i am just simply too manly. i mean, c'mon, i have a beard!

After i got back to my dorm, three more people asked me if i wanted to go to the hospital, and i submitted. i called up my heterosexy friend, Nick Elmer, and asked him to come with me on an adventure to the hospital. We ate Milanos and talked to the guard on duty... for two hours.

But this is not the point which i wish to convey, only the backdrop. Although, i do want to take the time to say that Nick Elmer is really, really, really cool, sexy, friendly, funny, and loyal. i love him. BUT MOVING ON: i got my foot/ankle area wrapped up, and was given a handy, dandy set of crutches. i have been using them to get around campus for the past few days. One thing i noticed was that just about every... oh tenth person or so, upon seeing the crutches, asked me what had happened, if i was alright, etc. Then they gave me advice like "don't walk on it for a while!" or "make sure you ice it too." This advice, although well intentioned, was completely unneeded.

Today i stopped using the crutches, starting after i got back from class. i get enough support on my ankle from some sort of plastic/goo cast which i obtained on Monday. i can get by without the crutches... although i do walk kinda funny. But here is something that i noticed: people don't ask questions any more. i am still visibly unwell (i walk like a speedy zombie!), but now people don't know if it is a temporary injury or a permanent one. Perhaps i was born like this? Maybe i was in a tragic accident? But now you don't want to know. What is it about the crutches that makes you comfortable with asking me about my personal life?

Monday, February 21, 2005

"Brand Name Loyalty!"

This is an article which i wrote for The Collegian. This is the uncut version. Unfortunately, i have a tendency to go over my word limit by a bit, so this article was not published in its entirety. Oh well.

"Lou (my editor, whom I love very, very much) and I were talking about how music seems so skull crushingly diverse. It isn’t really out of the ordinary to hear of a band that is “deathmetalcore with a prog/jazz fusion twist” or something to that effect. He told me to write an article about it, and I decided to use our discussion as the introduction for this article because I am a horrible writer. So, what exactly IS the deal with modern music, the radio, and (maybe) God?
The answer: generic labels (i.e.- rock, indie, punk, emo) are really just terms that give a basic idea of what music sounds like. These terms are flawed, but that’s because each individual band has unique ideas. Lou talked about how this was especially true for modern music, but in my mind this diversity has existed since the dawn of rock and/or roll. The difference is that, when it comes to history, people like to simplify the details. Ask any American about the Revolutionary War, and they will talk about how America stood up to England for the sake of freedom, but they will most likely leave out how the Founding Fathers didn’t really care about the rights of women, blacks, and the lower class in general. The same lack of attention to detail applies to music. Let us consider the “grunge” movement from the early 90s. If I had to pick the three biggest bands of that movement, I would have to go with Nirvana, Pearl Jam, and Soundgarden. They’re all grunge, right? Well, then why is it that Nirvana sounds like a punk band, Pearl Jam sounds like a rock n’ roll band, and Soundgarden sounds like a metal band? Oversimplification. Lets go a step further with this: Nirvana sounds sorta like punk to me. The three biggest punk bands of the 70s would have to be the Ramones, the Clash, and the Sex Pistols. The Ramones were secretly trying to be the Bay City Rollers, the Clash had a huge jones for the revolutionary dub sounds coming from across the globe, and the Sex Pistols… well, they were designed to make money for Malcolm McLaren.
Simple genre classifications, in my mind, are designed to make things more easily understood and, therefore, more marketable. You like emo? Well then you will probably like Jimmy Eat World, My Chemical Romance, and Bright Eyes. These three bands sound absolutely nothing like each other. Jimmy Eat World has a pop rock sheen, My Chemical Romance sucks, and Conor Oberst is more Bob Dylan/Jackson Browne than Jeremy Enigk/Geoff Rickley. BUT it is possible to connect them together by the emotional content of their music, and thus a marketing trend can be made. A mass media medium like radio would indulge in these simple labels. Bands will get lumped together, and money will be made. But we are more sensitive to the music being made now rather than in the past, because we are directly experiencing it, not just getting it second or third hand like on a VH1 “I Love The [Insert Decade Here]s!” special.
Ultimately, defining music with words is pointless. It is best to just simply play a band of interest for people, and see what they think of the music. The emphasis should be placed on each individual band, and not just be a fan of certain genres. Like I said before, genres are vague and rarely do bands justice. At the other extreme is the “deathmetalcore with a prog/jazz fusion twist” band. They’re being way too descriptive.
As for God’s role in all of this, I am convinced that Jesus would be a folk singer like Bob Dylan, but once he plugged in he would rock out like a super pissed off Ted Leo/Elvis Costello type, so you better not mess with him"

Thursday, February 03, 2005

"...and then I kissed her."

Right now I’m listening to some of my parent’s old Beach Boy records. The album that is playing right now is called All Summer Long. It’s a Capitol Re-issue. I know this because it says that on the album cover (!!!). I really enjoy listening to the Beach Boys. The numerous layers of vocals are simply amazing. But what really does it for me is the language, the lyrical content. Some of the language that the band uses is fairly out of date, what with words like “rad” and “groovy.”

The lyrics to Beach Boys songs are unquestionably rooted in idealistic Californian teenage innocence. Their songs were about fast rides, surfing under the bright sun, and beautiful golden girls (and the pursuit thereof). My appreciation for these lyrics is two-fold. First of all, I enjoy the lyrics because they sing of a better and more innocent time, which is appealing to someone such as myself, who has an affinity for sarcasm, moroseness, and pessimism. As apt as I am at putting a negative spin on things, I am also not without proneness towards a desire for happiness. The Beach Boys present such a joy to me, and they do so without the excessive sugary pop which has come to dominate radio and television in my lifetime. But this is just one half of my appreciation for the band.

When one thinks of the Beach Boys, they should most likely also think of the head of the group, Brian Wilson. Brian is/was at the heart of the group, and it was his imagination that created such gems as Pet Sounds and, more recently Smile. Brian represents that beautiful teenage ideal which I mentioned earlier, which is intriguing to me. I say this because Brian couldn’t surf, didn’t meet many girls, was actually a horribly insecure person, and dropped a ridiculous amount of acid in order to conceive of an unrealistic idea of summer: one in which everyone and everything is more beautiful than anything experienced before and, most likely, after this one specific moment in time, this one wild American summer. Brian Wilson is essentially an imposter, he doesn’t belong. Musicians are well known for creating personas for their audience, but it’s just so they can seem more interesting. Brian is covering himself up. He is protecting his weaknesses here. I find that sad, and sadness is always intriguing to other people.

Oh, and the Beach Boys have this song about how hot the girls in Utah are. It’s called “Salt Lake City.” I have no idea why they wrote it, but that’s ok by me.

Beach Boys - "Then I Kissed Her"

Wednesday, February 02, 2005

"i'll be the death of America"

i shut down my xanga site today. i kinda fell into having one back in the year 2003... it quickly became a way for me to vent my frustrations about work, family life, friends, sex, drugs, music, what have you. But way too many people that i actually know read the damn thing now. Shit, my sister's friends read it. i even had a bunch of random 15 year old girls who subscribed to it(because i do so well with the Hot Topic crowd). i was starting to feel like a pedophile. It makes it hard to write anything other than a basic log of all of the good things that happened during a certain span of time. i had planned to use it as a forum for lyrics and essays which i had written, but that always ended up falling by the wayside for one reason or another.

One wonders why i didn't just keep a journal the old way: in a book. The answer: there is something gratifying about having one's life analyzed (and approved) by people who live outside one's own life. BUT there are certain guidelines: it has to be people of a similar mindset and age (at least for me). It has to feel like these are people that you could possibly hang out with in real life. In short, they're exactly like your friends in real life, but they can't judge you like your real friends can. They don't see the character flaws, the moments of weakness. It is practically voyeurism (minus the nudity part, which i guess does kinda take away the meaning of the word, but still...), and i (along with all of the people on xanga, livejournal, myspace, facebook, etc.) do so enjoy voyeurism. Anyone who says they only do it because they are "bored" is a filthy fucking liar. It is so addicting to just breath in other people's lives. i think that this is easily one of the top ten reasons why i stopped watching television. Who needs "reality tv" when i can experience this? But when people that you actually do know begin to tap into the experience, it becomes... hampered, embarrassing. Its like being caught masturbating, or something similar.

This begs the question, "Well, why the fuck did you just sign up for a blog like maybe five (5) or six (6) hours after deleting your xanga?!" The answer: this is going to be an outlet for stupid and/or inane comments. Also, i am hopelessly addicted to blogging. i can't help it. The internet has replaced television as my ultimate time waster. i don't even own a television in my dorm. Of course, my roomie has one, but i don't use it... or really hang out in the dorm all that much. But i'm getting off topic...This will be a harmless outlet for discussion of pop culture, cancer, love, whatever.

Joe Jackson - "Got the Time"