The Endless Rope Archives
This Weekend in LA: Foghat, AMC, Naked on the Vague, Robyn, Dirtbombs, Noisy People
by Randall Roberts
May 16, 2008 11:54 AM
Remember, it’s still technically bike to work week, so if you’re working the clubs this weekend and feel like saving the earth, maybe you should two-wheel it. In LA. At night. Or skateboard maybe. Or okay how about you just bum a ride from your ex?
Friday:
So this week Michael Stipe revealed some of his roots, and confessed that when he bought that Patti Smith album as a teen that changed his life, he also bought a Foghat record. Which is awesome, and we couldn’t be happier about it. Stipe was living in Collinsville, Illinois then (I grew up in Edwardsville, Illinois, which was Collinsville’s archenemy), and Foghat was everywhere. Well, if you’d like to visit the road that Stipe ended up not traveling (think about consequences had he been floored not by the Patti Smith album but by Foghat Live), Foghat’s playing at the Canyon tonight.
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New John Mellencamp Album Unveiled with Fancy New T-Bone Burnett-developed High-Def Process
by Randall Roberts
May 16, 2008 7:00 AM
It's going to take a lot for me to forgive John Mellencamp for 2007 and that the whole Ford Chevrolet commercial nightmare. While it's true that maybe I was watching too much TV that year, that god damned “Our Country” song, which I hesitate to say out loud because it'll likely spark an earworm that will repeat in my head for the next week, ruined my life. It haunted me, made me feel schizophrenic, as though I had no control over my brain. That line, “This is our country,” repeated ad infinitum like a taunt and a stab. But you know that, because it ruined your year, too. Over and over again it came on TV and radio, seeped from passing cars and seemingly out of every gas station loudspeaker in Our Country.
That song, and that moment in history, still irks me, and not just because I drive a girly-man Volvo and not a domestic truck. It felt like a Big Brother thing, and revealed to me a truth that, given enough money/blanket access to media, a corporation, if so inclined, can pound a song into America's collective skull at will, can control our internal stereo with sheer ad-buying power. It wasn’t even the sentiment, either, that bugged me. It’s kind of a protest song, in a neutral kind of way. But still, it felt like some sort of assault. It hurt most because I actually like the Cougar, and think he's written some decent, earnest songs.
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Tonight in LA: Ghanian Hip Hop, Blowfly and Les Nubians, Among Others
by Randall Roberts
May 15, 2008 4:17 PM
Okay, so on the surface perhaps a slow Thursday night in LA. No grand slams, it would seem, few hipster throw-downs. But I would like to present a few pieces of evidence that might provide a little nudge out the door tonight.
Item one: BLOWFLY.
Last year, I saw Blowfly open for Bonnie “Prince” Billy in Louisville when the ersatz Will Oldham performed the entirety of I See A Darkness. Oldham was the draw, of course. But Blowfly, known best for his ridiculously stoopid dirty records of the 70s, was a worthy foil to Oldham's pleasantly surly presentation. Blowfly's getting on in age, but that doesn't mean he doesn't still have very naughty thoughts. He follows Antiseen, Suckerstar, Angus Khan at the Knitting Factory.
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American Music Club, circa 2008
American Music Club’s new album, The Golden Age (Merge), begins with what seems to me two perfect Southern California couplets that capture a particular feeling and a particular breeze: "I wish that we were always high/I wish that we could swim in the sky/If we believe, we won’t fall/We’ll leave our lives and rise above it all.” It’s a hopeful introduction, a leap off a springboard and the consequent float, one that Eitzel and his band, guitarist Vudi, bassist Sean Hoffman and drummer Steve Didelot, manage to maintain throughout The Golden Age’s thirteen songs. Eitzel founded American Music Club in San Francisco nearly 25 years ago, returned in 2004 after a decade long hiatus to record their eighth album, Love Songs for Patriots. Last summer the band convened in Echo Park to record the follow-up, The Golden Age with producer Dave Trumfio. Eitzel recently spoke over the phone during the Arlington, Virginia stop on their four month European and American tour. The band will close the journey at the Echo this Friday, May 16.
LA Weekly:You were living in LA for a while this summer while you were working on The Golden Age, and I’m wondering whether any of that LA stuff made it onto the record.
Mark Eitzel: I think so. I mean, I was writing a lot in August in LA. Getting home late and having the door open all night long. My view was this parking lot [and] of this recording studio called The Ship.
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No, really, you should listen to Neil Hamburger's guest DJ slot at Dublab right now.
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KCRW Launches New Guest DJ Sessions featuring Conan O'Brien, Jason Reitman and others
by Randall Roberts
May 14, 2008 6:43 AM
Everybody has an opinion about music, especially celebrities, and KCRW is harnessing this intrinsic reality with a new online series which launches today called the Guest DJ Project. Each week, a member of KCRW's on-air staff interviews a person of note, and broadcasts the results, which so far has already yielded a number of phenomenal sessions, including John Cusack, Garth Jennings, Conan O'Brien and Saffron Burroughs. Below is Jason Reitman (pictured with host Jason Bentley), who gets big bonus points for recommending Penguin Cafe Orchestra.
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Hot Week at Dublab: Live Neil Hamburger, Peanut Butter Wolf, Anticon, Lucky Dragons and others
by Randall Roberts
May 13, 2008 2:49 PM
Our favorite local music collective/studio/radio station/creative non-profit/record label/DJ team/inspiration to us all, Dublab, is offering an amazing schedule of talent and mixes this week. Mindblowing, actually, and we've a mind to tune in, turn on and drop out for the next few days and simply appreciate the glory that is Dublab radio. The collective, which recently switched to non-profit status, is in the middle of their bi-annual Proton Drive, a fund-raising effort dedicated to keep the Dublab functioning.
The inimitable Neil Hamburger
Sadly, you already missed Jimmy Tamborello, but check the schedule out. We're pumped to hear what Neil Hamburger has in store for us tomorrow from noon to 2 p.m., given his recent Neil Hamburger Sings Country Winners release. Ditto the rest of tomorrow, actually, with Peanut Butter Wolf segueing into Anticon's Telephone Jim Jesus and directly into the remarkable Mia Doi Todd. Thursday's Lucky Dragons set should be interesting, as well.
And there's no way we're missing the final session: Tuesday, May 20th through Wednesday, May 21st: A 24-hour no-sleep session from 10am - 10am featuring Ale & frosty.
The complete schedule follows.
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Stew's Passing Strange Receives Seven Tony Award Nominations
by Randall Roberts
May 13, 2008 8:27 AM
From Spaceland to Broadway: Stew
Passing Strange, the Broadway musical created by longtime fixture on the LA music scene Stew, received seven Tony Award nominations this morning. The show, which started Off Broadway but moved to the Big Dance in the spring, has gone on to become one of the most critically acclaimed and successful musicals of the season.
The nominations for the former leader of the Negro Problem are some of the biggies, too. Stew himself is nominated for Best Performance by a Lead Actor in a Musical, and Passing Strange is nominated for Best Musical, Best Book and Best Original Score, among others. (The entire list of nominees can be found here.)
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Tonight in LA: Le Switch at the Echo, Harvey Sid Fisher at Pehrspace and Mezzanine Owls at Spaceland
by Randall Roberts
May 12, 2008 3:37 PM
Big ass night for Los Angeles music. If you're in from out of town, you picked a good frickin' Monday to be here. Fortify with a big dinner cuz there's no cover and you can whoop it up tonight and spend all your money on booze and cigarettes.
Le Switch
Top on the list is the great quadruple bill at the Echo, during week two of Le Switch's residency. The band is on everybody's lips right now, and reports on week one were uniformly positive. Next week will apparently be acoustic based, so if you want to get a major dose of the band doing it the way they do it, tonight's the night. To boot, a few other LA buzz bands will be filling out the bill. The much lauded Division Day; the Henry Clay People of Jax Art records; and the totally impressive pop band Princeton.
At Pehrspace, joy of joys, will be Harvey Sid Fisher. Yes. Oh yes. Here:
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The Weekend in Music: Quiet Storm Action with Keith Sweat, Abe Vigoda, Punky Reggae and The Parson Redheads
by Randall Roberts
May 9, 2008 3:42 PM
If you're looking for some nookie this weekend, as in: your special one has been hesitatin', and you've been motivatin' but there is no reciprocatin', well, maybe you need to butter up with some Keith Sweat. For example:
Tonight you can check out Hot Buttered Sweat at the Greek Theatre on a bill with the Gap Band, the Emotions and One Way.
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Madonna to Lead Large Pilates Session at Dodger Stadium on Nov. 6
by Randall Roberts
May 8, 2008 11:09 AM
Well, at least that's what her performances of the last few years have seemed like: big muscle-flexing sessions, with music. Where's the bouncing? The joy? Still: I'll be there front and center.
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Well, in case you were wavering on whether to vote for McCain or Obama, this should help you decide.
Sa-Ra's front man Taz Arnold (TI$A) wanders through L.A. dancing to a great rhythm by Daedalus.
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That would be Wednesday and Thursday, October 1 and 2 at the Santa Monica Civic Center.
My Bloody Valentine's high-water mark: "Soon."
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Marfa Film Fest Dispatch: World Premiere of Heath Ledger-directed music video
by Randall Roberts
May 5, 2008 10:28 AM
(photo by Randall Roberts)
Today's a travel day for me, having just experienced the best little festival I've ever attended, the first annual Marfa Film Festival, in Marfa, Texas. The second annual one is already on my calendar for next year (and in the interim I'll be trying to convince my bosses that we need to throw a party down here). Part of my excitement is circumstantial. I've been surrounded by musicians and artists for the past five days non-stop, have been awash with the music of Mia Doi Todd, Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes , and Victoria (the blossoming product of former Spacehog singer Antony Langdon), have been roaming the streets of Marfa and meeting, ironically (or not), lots of Los Angelenos.
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I got on a bus in Los Feliz yesterday at about 1 p.m. headed for Marfa, Texas, to attend the first annual Marfa Film Festival. If you've been to the movies, you know Marfa as a smalltown Hollywood, where both There Will Be Blood and No Country for Old Men were filmed recently, and where Giant was filmed in 1956. The bus is a whole funny story that you'll hear about soon enough (I'm working on a feature), but the reason I'm writing about this in the music section and not the film section (besides the obvious) is because on the bus were Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes, the erstwhile project of Ima Robot lead singer Alex Ebert.
A Marfa room. There are a lot of filmmakers here this weekend, apparently
But also then a funny thing has happened that has made me really happy I'm here. We were setting up for an art show in this oddball complex called Building 98 on the outskirts of town yesterday, where last night, after a screening of There Will Be Blood at the site of what remains of the film's main Marfa set (a frickin' amazing sight), Sharpe and his Zeroes, eleven members strong, performed.
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I got on a bus in Los Feliz yesterday at about 1 p.m. headed for Marfa, Texas, to attend the first annual Marfa Film Festival. If you've been to the movies, you know Marfa as a smalltown Hollywood, where both There Will Be Blood and No Country for Old Men were filmed recently, and where Giant was filmed in 1956. The bus is a whole funny story that you'll hear about soon enough (I'm working on a feature), but the reason I'm writing about this in the music section and not the film section (besides the obvious) is because on the bus were Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes, the erstwhile project of Ima Robot lead singer Alex Ebert.
A Marfa room. There are a lot of filmmakers here this weekend, apparently
But also then a funny thing has happened that has made me really happy I'm here. We were setting up for an art show in this oddball complex called Building 98 on the outskirts of town yesterday, where last night, after a screening of There Will Be Blood at the site of what remains of the film's main Marfa set (a frickin' amazing sight), Sharpe and his Zeroes, eleven members strong, performed.
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Final Check Yo Ponytail tonight starring Dan Deacon and Erol Alkan
by Randall Roberts
April 29, 2008 6:25 PM
I Heart Comix's long-running Check Yo Ponytail series comes to a close tonight at the Echoplex. The legendary party ends its run with a doozy: Dan Deacon and Erol Alkan.
Here's what you might see if you decide to hit it:
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Death Cab for Cutie to play secret show at Spaceland at 5 p.m. today
by Randall Roberts
April 29, 2008 4:17 PM
It's a KROQ show, so there's no chance of getting in at this point. But you never know. I'm on my way over there now, though with LA Weekly's recent move to the West Side, I'm hoping to get there by midnight. If the traffic gods are with me, I'll be there by 5:15.
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Let the Grieving Process Begin: Pink Floyd's Inflatable Pig Found Dead
by Randall Roberts
April 29, 2008 3:19 PM
It's a hard time for everyone, I know. But we have to get through this together.
The LA Weekly would like to open the comments section so you, the reader, can share your thoughts and remembrances on Roger Waters' and Pink Floyd's inflatable pig, dead, we're assuming, as a result of exploding.
The pig, in happier times, floating above the Hollywood Bowl
The Zapruder Film of Coachella 2008: last known image of The Pig before it blowed up.
But it's time to start asking some hard questions. In whose charge was the pig? Had Waters and his production team ever combined the inflatable pig with a big explosion before? Was the Coachella crowd in any danger? What if the fire had burned through the vinyl pig? Could it have exploded above the crowd, sending searing hot vinyl pig carcass onto the fans below??? WTF???
Any theories? Have you seen a Roger Waters or Pink Floyd show where they did both pig and fire simultaneously? How did it make you feel? Should there be an investigation? Or should we just be thankful that we lived in the same moment in history as the pig?
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There are very few breaking news stories in the music biz, and Pink Floyd's escaped flying pig ranks pretty high up there. Sources tell us that there are now two reports of pig -recovery operations currently underway in nearby La Quinta, California.
Imagine this pig exploding high up in the atmosphere, and floating down onto the village of La Quinta. Somebody should write a boring rock opera about it.
LA Weekly will be offering round-the-clock reportage on what is perhaps the most tragic event in Coachella history. We dedicate this post to the pig. It was a great run, and you almost made it.
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I wish I could say that this was a joke, but I saw the damned pig float away myself Sunday night during Roger Waters' set at Coachella. As it drifted up, I contemplated why Waters would release the pig, endanger the airplane circling the field advertising something or other, and litter the earth not only with his pomposity but with the symbol of that pomposity. But, no.
The pig in question, before sprouting wings. Will its arrival in the the jungles of South America be greeted by believers as a sign from God? (Photo by Timothy Norris)
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If there was one transformative performance at this year's Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival, I'd say it was Santogold's Friday night statement-of-purpose. The festival, which wrapped up last night with a Pink Floyd flashback courtesy of Roger Waters and a furious day-long Sahara tent throwdown with highlight sets by Booka Shade, Modeselektor and Simian Mobile Disco (who used to annoy me, but when they dropped Plastikman's "Spastik" rhythm halfway through their set, I forgave them all their lighter-than-air sins), contained multitudes, but it was Brooklyn's Santogold (born Santi White), who concentrated all the sounds into one sparse, beautiful essence.
It was the songs, of course, and Santogold's wide-ranging tastes and influences, that shone brightest. But her two dancers sealed the deal. Dressed in identical black pants, white sleeveless blouses and checkered sunglasses, they danced like Public Enemy's troupe/security detail, the S-1Ws, as choreographed by Bob Fosse. They moved, but in fits and starts with the rhythm. There was motion, but there was just as much non-motion. It was funky. It was fresh. It was a dance I'd like to learn (yeah, right).
Read all of LA Weekly's Coachella coverage.
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Coachella Day Three: Neil Diamond's Amazing Performance Opening for Justice
by Randall Roberts
April 28, 2008 8:40 AM
Sunday at the Empire Polo Field is softer than Saturday, more like Seurot than the previous day's Van Gogh, a little hazy and lazy and everybody's sleeping off last night's feast. Sunday = day of rest, except that at Coachella that's not true, at least in the Sahara tent, which is packed with LA's koolest kids walking around with cockeyed hats and 'tude, and have no more desire to leave Sahara today than the pampered VIPers do to leave to soft grass and the sushi.
"Hi, I'd like to order a box of headbands, overnighted to the VIP area, please." (Photo by Randall Roberts)
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Coachella Day Two: The Triumvirate of Kraftwerk, Portishead and Prince
by Randall Roberts
April 27, 2008 3:13 PM
The Coachella mainstage on Saturday night was a glory to behold, a spirit-lifting evening celebrating joy through technology, through contemplation and through celebration. In a single four hour chunk of time, the lucky masses at Coachella witnessed two-and-a-half humongous performances, two of which were nearly epochal.
The fans at Hot Chip were very excited and very happy. (All photos by Timothy Norris)
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Coachella Day One: The Raconteurs Stomp the Bejeesus Out of Vampire Weekend
by Randall Roberts
April 26, 2008 12:38 PM
Coachella, Day One
It was hard to watch, honestly. There was blood all over the place. The security guys kept pulling Jack White off of Vampire Weekend lead singer Ezra Koenig, but White kept coming, veins popping, eyes way gone and spiraling, guitar sound set to “pummel,” prowling on the main stage of the 2008 Coachella Valley Art and Music Festival in Indio, California. He absolutely ruined Koenig's pink shorts - and on day one, no less. Hopefully Vampire Weekend's designer is on the case and they can overnight a new pair or something.
nice pink shorts, dude, but not very rock & roll.
Photos by Timothy Norris
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At last night's cool Filter party at the Corona Yacht Club, I ran into sculptor Christopher Janney, whose Sonic Forest installation will once again appear as part of Coachella's art offerings. Janney has been working for the past week to install his work at the Empire Polo Field, where the 2008 Coachella Valley Music and Arts festival began today. One of the perks of being on site early are the sound checks, and Janney told a funny story from yesterday. While on site, music was carrying across the valley, which is nothing unusual this week. This was some nice sounding funk, a little unexpected considering the festival's rock bent. And then the singer stepped in, and immediately Janney realized that Prince was in the house, here two days early to work out his show. Of course Janney made a beeline to see the sound check.
Christopher Janney's Sonic Forest
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On the Coachella Express, there are a few distinct types of people: the media, which was invited to document the maiden voyage of the Amtrak line that departed LA's Union Station Thursday afternoon, and who wouldn't leave the kids alone. Local LA news crews were doing their two-minute Coachella stories for the ten o'clock news. A TV cameraman shot a group of hipsters while a square news reporter poked a mike in their faces and asked silly questions like, "Why are you going to Coachella? What are you hoping to find?" Answer, from an obviously disinterested dude: "Uh, music?" She was looking for something profound, but the dude wasn't budging. He was looking forward to Justice, as was everyone on board. They can't stop talking about Justice.
The media search for the meaning of Coachella on the train.
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These days there’s every reason to be skeptical of a reunion concert. After the breakup we watch our heroes get older, buy their post-Great-Band solo projects with worried hearts and minds, certain that they have peaked and that nothing they do could capture the magic of the Grand Statement of Purpose they delivered when we were all young and in love.
photo courtesy of NME
And we’re usually right because that thing that was special about the band, say, for example, Jane’s Addiction, mostly exists in our head, in our memory of when they, like us, were younger, more beautiful and in better shape. They gave us their music, and we accepted it. It’s a memory of energy transfer, of constructing a conduit between musician and listener, and pouring music, beautiful music, through it.
Like the aging process itself, that conduit tends to shrink over time, and during reunion concerts only a smidgen of the former energy is able to squeeze through (okay, this metaphor is getting gross). It’s not the same. But last night at the El Rey, Jane’s Addiction totally tapped into whatever that was they once had, and shut us snobby-ass skeptics the hell up. Boom, like they’d been rehearsing for years, they kicked into “Stop” and the four original members, for the first time in 17 years, played their music together, and it was really great.
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You can complain all you want about Coachella 2008's roster, but the reality that I'll be seeing Kraftwerk followed by Portishead followed by Prince on Saturday night is pretty frickin' exciting.
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Kanye West with Rihanna and N.E.R.D., April 21, Nokia Theatre L.A. Live
If you're going see Kanye West's second of two shows at the Nokia tonight, you should bone up on the narrative, because like all big ticket stage spectacles – Cats, Stomp, “Oh, Streetcar!” – there’s kinda sorta a half-assed storyline which ties all the stuff together. So: We’re on a deserted planet with a shipwrecked man, who we first see sprawled out on stage. A big computer screen drops from the ceiling. The Hal-like monotone voice of an omniscient narrator, Jane, greets us and explains something about the universe being in danger and there being only one hope. That hope is (who else?) Kanye West.
photos by Randall Roberts (sorry, Kanye's peeps didn't allow professional photographers to shoot, so you got me and a cell camera)
Yes, like Sun Ra, David Bowie, Kool Keith, Funkadelic, and Electric Light Orchestra before him, Kanye West is in outer space, the 21st century version of which is very high tech and features jumbo screen backdrops that project different settings (Mars-like surfaces, flying through galaxies, moving through robotic corridors, etc.). West as spaceman pumps through his jams in front of these settings, and between songs to add a little weirdness and indulge West in his fantasy of being Superhero of the Universe, Jane drops down from the ceiling and says things like “You’re the brightest star in the universe,” and “You’re our only hope.” She told us when the shooting stars were unable to continue powering the spaceship, and advised our hero to step it up a notch when necessary.
Not that he needed much prompting. It was just him, and he worked it. Except for a brief Lupe Fiasco appearance near the end, West was alone onstage the entire night, and were it not for a brief, awkward moment at the show’s close when he tried (but failed) to shine the house lights on his backing band (which he had hidden behind the projection screen) I would have left thinking that West had played to a backing track.
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Amidst all the hoo-ha about Jane's Addiction getting back together next week because apparently they're geniuses or something, another reunion's getting less ink: This week the Beachwood Sparks announced that they'd be reuniting this summer as part of Sub Pop Records' 20th anniversary party in Seattle. The Sparks were one of Sub Pop's first country-rock signings, and though they achieved a little success and decent acclaim, they never took off the way that their torchbearers have. But the band paved the way for Band of Horses' grand reward, and the newest Sub Pop band Fleet Foxes owes a great debt to LA's smoothest rock act of the early '00s. (Am I the only one who's concerned that both Fleet Foxes and Band of Horses are name checking middling 70s soft-rock band America as an influence? This is dangerous territory, and does not bode well.)
But, yeah, so anyway since none of Beachwood Sparks' post break-up outifts (most notably, Christopher Gunst's project Mystic Chords of Memory) have fared all too well, at least commercially, maybe it makes sense that the band give it another go. No word yet if this is just a one-off or the rumblings of a full-bore reunion. But then again, the band never "officially" broke up.
The Beachwood Sparks will gig at Sub Pop's 20th anniversary party on July 12-13 at Marymoor Park in Redmond, Washington.
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Make that 129 bands: Swervedriver to reunite at Coachella, and again at the Fonda
by Randall Roberts
April 16, 2008 4:28 PM
Swervedriver was the roughest, heaviest, least wistful of the early 1990s British guitar-band invasion. Yeah, like their compadres, the Oxford-born band's stages were, too, filled with effects pedals, but where Ride, Pale Saints and, to a lesser extent, My Bloody Valentine, accented the pop over the rock, Swervedriver kicked out the jams. To wit, their hardest, heaviest single, "Rave Down."
So that makes 129 bands playing Coachella.
Swervedriver will reunite for a full tour, and will gig at the Music Box at the Henry Fonda Theatre on May 31.
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Godlike Geniuses! Jane's Addiction to reunite, solve the mystery of "dark matter"
by Randall Roberts
April 16, 2008 7:18 AM
Plato, Leonardo da Vinci, Hildegard von Bingen, Albert Einstein, Susan Sontag, Manic Street Preachers: the smartest of our breed, humans whose brains teamed with their obsessions to create order where there was chaos, to make sense of this crazy world we live in. Add yet another notch to the totem of big-league thinkers: Jane's Addiction, who were recently deemed by British scholarly journal New Musical Express to be worthy of their esteemed "Godlike Genius Award."
Geniuses pictured above
The band's four original members - Perry Farrell (IQ of 141 on the Weschler Scale), Eric Avery (189 IQ), Dave Navarro (82 IQ) and Stephen Perkins (212 IQ) - will reunite next Wednesday, April 23 for the first time since 1991 to perform at the El Rey and accept their award. Academics are expected to fly in from all over the world in an effort to parse meanings and analyze Jane's Addiction's lyrics; dense with layers of subtext and metaphorical gymnastics, encoded messages and complicated meter, the band's words have been the subject of countless academic conferences, dissertations and doctoral theses.
i am the killer of people you look like a meatball i'll throw away your toothpick and ask for your giveness
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Seattle Pop Conference kicks off talk of diaspora and hegemony (what else is new?)
by Randall Roberts
April 10, 2008 11:30 PM
There's a reward at the end of this post for those of you who read it, by the way.
There are a few words that you don't hear in mixed company, and two of them are hegemony and diaspora. Actually, I've never used either of them in sentences not specifically about the words themselves, and but Hegemony would be a good name for a drinking game at the Experience Music Project Pop Conference, held annually in Seattle and going on right now. Hegemony (“leadership or predominant influence exercised by one nation over others, as in a confederation.”) was tossed off in the first five minutes of last night's keynote, entitled “Ritmo Blues: Hidden History Shaking Up 'American' Pop.” And if we're playing Hegemony during today's first full day of panels, I'm pretty sure I'm gonna be drunk by noon. Diaspora, too, will flow like Seattle rain, and we're sure to end up in a few different cultural nexuses. Which is fine. They're useful words. But it gets annoying when rock critics (who comprise half the constituency here) start talking hegemony, because it seems like they only use the word here. And it's annoying when academics (who comprise the other half) use the words because, well, that seems like the only words they ever use, and I'm not impressed. (Note to self: good idea for next year's EMP paper: “Oxford Comma-ners: The Hegemony of the Ivy League Music Critic Cartel in the Pop Music Diaspora.”)
If it seems pointless to write about writers writing about music -- as if music writing isn't boring enough, why would any of you want to hear about a song twice removed? -- at the pop conference, it often is. The beat's no longer there, the melody's gone, and all that's left is some dude or dudette uglier than you would have imagined (with three shining exceptions) reading from a printout of their words. But that said, I'm here, and I've presented papers in each of the past two years; I really look forward to this every year; and the only reason I'm not presenting this year is because those fuckers turned down my proposal. (I kid. They did turn it down, but they're not fuckers.) I come here because I like learning about music I don't know about, and like hearing it from people who know a lot about it.
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This fellow is thinking about newsreels, protests,
charidee and shock absorption in popular music.
"How does music resist, negate, struggle? Can pop intensify vital confrontations, as well as transform and conceal them? What happens when people are angry and silly love songs aren't enough?"
A valid question, sure, and one that's at the center of this year's Experience Music Project pop conference, an annual three-day geek-out featuring some of the world's preeminent music writers and academics.
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This just in:
Prince has joined this year's line-up for the ninth COACHELLA VALLEY MUSIC & ARTS FESTIVAL at the Empire Polo Field in Indio, CA (Friday, April 25, Saturday, April 26 and Sunday, April 27) as the headliner for the second night of the critically acclaimed festival.
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In this morning's Times, and an apology to Puffy Diddy Daddy.
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Yep, just announced: Radiohead at the Hollywood Bowl on August 24 and 25, which is a little weird because it's a Sunday and a Monday. Presales begin April 9. The entire second leg of the American tour:
August 6 - Parc Jean Drapeau - Montreal, QC
August 8 - All Points West Music & Arts Festival/Liberty State Park - Jersey City, NJ
August 9 - All Points West Music & Arts Festival/Liberty State Park - Jersey City, NJ
August 12 - Susquehanna Bank Center - Camden, NJ
August 13 - Tweeter Center For the Performing Arts - Mansfield, MA
August 15 - Molson Amphitheatre - Toronto, ON
August 19 - Thunderbird Stadium - Vancouver, BC
August 20 - White River Amphitheatre - Auburn, WA
August 22 - Outside Lands Music & Arts Festival @ Golden Gate Park - San Francisco, CA
August 24 - Hollywood Bowl - Los Angeles, CA
August 25 - Hollywood Bowl - Los Angeles, CA
August 27 - Cricket Wireless Amphitheatre - Chula Vista, CA
August 28 - Santa Barbara Bowl - Santa Barbara, CA
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You've heard the Motorik beat, one of the seminal rhythms of the late 20ths century. Created in the early 1970s by Dusseldorf, Germany percussionist Klaus Dinger, the Motorik beat over the past thirty years has become of the essential rhythms of our time. Dinger died last week, though his thoroughly modernist creation lives on. Rather than try to explain what Dinger and his partner in Neu!, Michael Rother, created -- robotic snare, double-time high hat, occasional drum roll, and a large helping of The Funk -- you should just listen to it:
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Nightwatchmen tonight at The Hotel Cafe with .... Counting Crows?
by Randall Roberts
April 2, 2008 8:38 AM
That's the rumor, anyway, and I'm trying to confirm it right now. But it makes sense: the Crows' new album, Saturday Nights & Sunday Mornings, dropped last week; they've been in town all this week gigging (a few nights ago for the Yahoo! Live series, and tomorrow at the Apple Store at the Grove); and at The Hotel Cafe's schedule on their website, tonight's listing features The Nightwatchmen (Rage Against the Machine guitarist Tom Merello's project) along with "Special Guests TBA!" Now, I know my punctuation rules. That exclamation point is worth a thousand words, and four of those are: "Counting Crows unannounced gig!"
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As long as we're on the subject of Bob Lefsetz, let's talk Bob Lefsetz.
I've stayed away from mentioning Santa Monica-based music biz prognosticator Bob Lefsetz because, well, he hangs himself from the endless rope on a daily -- nay, hourly -- basis every time he opens his blathering Bachman-Turner-Overdrive mouth. As in:
But the pundits just accuse those into classic rock as being old farts. Like the music of today’s players is just as good as those of the Beatles’. Hell, it’s not as good as that of the Dave Clark Five. Not even Herman’s Hermits.
I mean, how does this man get attention? (I think it may have something with his look, which relies heavily on Polo shirts with upturned collars, and is perhaps who Vampire Weekend stole their look from):
So anyway, it's April Fool's Day, dummy, so beware of people in general. But the annual yuck-fest can be useful, as it offers a good litmus test in determining who's funny and who's unfunny. Bob Lefsetz is unfunny, the proof being his morning gag: "Apple Buys Universal."
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The Hidden Pleasures of Coachella, Part I: Linton Kwesi Johnson
by Randall Roberts
April 1, 2008 2:02 PM
One of the pleasant little surprises of this year's festival is the arrival of Jamaican born, British-bred poet Linton Kwesi Johnson. He made his mark beginning in London in the 1970s, teaming with totally underrated British producer Dennis Bovell on some classic records for Chris Blackwell's budding Island Records imprint. Being in London, the team played the same clubs as the punks, and were soon working with them. Bovell produced a lot of the early Slits stuff, as well as the Pop Group and Orange Juice. Johnson's classics, 1980's Bass Culture and LKJ in Dub are deep, rich, bass heavy examinations. Alas, I'm pretty sure that Bovell isn't making the trip with Johnson, but still, as you're trying to decide your Coachella days, consider a real life poet, rather than some poseur.
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Comments from around the Web: Chuck Philips' debunked Tupac story
by Randall Roberts
March 28, 2008 4:10 PM
Among the hundreds of responses to this week's debunked LA Times story on the murder of Tupac Shakur, and Sean "P. Diddy" Combs' alleged involvement in it, have been a few fascinating and incendiary allegations. What follows are a few of the most intriguing.
From an anonymous post to the Velvet Rope music industry message board:
That the Times continues to publish Philips in regards to this story is pathetic. This is not the random mistake of a seasoned reporter who slipped up. Philips has systematically bent, twisted, rearranged, processed, covered up and stomped on the truth. Either through the syntax of his writing or the false conclusions he suggests, it has been a textbook case of gross manipulation. To people who have spent any time studying this case (the most fascinating crime story of the past 20 years) Chuck Philips is simply a joke. It is sad to see The Times continue to be the butt of that joke.
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Who Shot Tupac At The Quad: The LA Times teaser press release
by Randall Roberts
March 28, 2008 11:11 AM
On the afternoon of Friday, March 14, the LA Times' Stephan Pechdimaldji, senior manager of media relations, tossed out an email to his media list announcing the impending publication of Chuck Philips' now-debunked Who Shot Tupac story. There were a couple of red flags right of