Welcome To The Satire House

I always liked the song, "Bohemian Like You" by the Dandy Warhols. Yes, I know, it may pale in comparison to the other song with Bohemian in the title, but it's still a fun and catchy song. (This is the censored, but probably still NSFW video:)



For one thing, it's great to hear hipsters playfully making fun of themselves. Though they may have a reputation for being humourously self-important, the fact is that they can (mostly) laugh at themselves just as much as anyone.

But I heard it on the radio recently, and the DJ pointed out that although it's clearly about hipsters, it doesn't use that word because the song was released in 2000, which was before hipsters were really a thing. But even if they weren't recognized by most people, here's a song written by and for hipsters, and it's making fun of them. So hipsters had identified their own culture and started ridiculing it before the general population. Or, to put it another way, they were making fun of hipsters before it was cool. So that's it, there is nothing that hipsters won't do before everyone else discovers it.

Radio Love Song

Recently, I heard a DJ mention that "Let's Dance To Joy Division" by The Wombats is his favourite song, and it appears on a Spotify playlist from the producers of Guardians of the Galaxy, presumably to remind everyone the franchise still exists while they wait for the next instalment in a couple of years.

I was intrigued, so when I got home, I looked the song up on YouTube (Still no streaming music for me. I listen to music the old fashioned way: files I've bought and downloaded.) The song is very good, though I wouldn't list it as my favourite. On the list of indie songs that name-check indie bands, I'd place it ahead of "Let's Make Love and Listen to Death From Above" by CSS, but behind "Daft Punk is Playing at My House" by LCD System.

But then it hit me how weird this whole experience was: A DJ mentioned a good song - but didn't play it - and I looked it up myself to hear if it was any good. That's not how the whole DJ concept is supposed to work; their job is after all to play good music. But in today's radio world, it's just accepted that outside of college radio, the music is pre-approved focus-grouped demographic pablum, and the DJ's have no say in it.

But the DJ's themselves seem reasonably free to express themselves - after all, ads for radio stations usually promote them as much or more than the music. So we have the strange situation where DJ's can express their personality by talking about edgy music, but aren't allowed to play it.

Similarly, big-budget movies are okay with using obscure music in self promotion, even if the movie itself is a safe comic book sequel. So these two media may be restrained by the need to be safe bets, but don't mind acknowledging alternative choices the consumer might make. It's like some kind of weakened dystopia where Big Brother won't show you rebellion, but is okay with everyone talking about it.

Keep Listening

Like a lot of Canadians my age, I have fond memories of Muchmusic. Not just silly, embarrassed memories, but some genuine appreciation. Although it could be juvenile and amateur, they offered a wider variety of music than any radio station, and so cultivated a more mature appreciation of music that we would otherwise have had. Also, their many genre-based shows allowed young music fans a deeper dive into their favourite music than you could get anywhere else at the time.

As a young proto-hipster, I especially enjoyed their alternative music show, The Wedge, and its predecessor, City Limits. They introduced me to musical possibilities a kid in small-town Ontario would never have had a chance to be exposed to, some of which would become life-long favorites.

But like I say, it wasn't perfect, and I think it's time for a reckoning of some of Muchmusic's crimes. For instance, they sometimes gave musicians a poor introduction. I'm still kind of ticked that I didn't get into The Smiths until years later because Much convinced me they had nothing more to offer than "Girlfriend in a Coma." Is not a bad song, but not the catchiest in their catalogue, and surely not the one you would use to introduce people to the band.

But that sort of thing tended to happen: they'd arbitrarily overplay one song in a bands ouvre, denying viewers the chance to get a better idea of their music. To be fair, they were limited by the fact that is a video channel, and have a mandate to choose good videos. But I suspected that we were also at the mercy of taste-makers behind the scenes, and if someone at the station had a thing for a particular song, then we were just kind of stuck with it.

Which brings me to fellow Mancurians, The Fall. The only song of theirs that I ever recall appearing on Muchmusic was "Eat Y'self Fitter," which I thought was one of the worst songs I'd ever heard. So for years, I had a very negative view of them.

Occasionally, I'd see The Fall mentioned alongside legends of the Manchester Scene, which would confuse me, having written them off as talentless weirdos. Eventually, though, between Internet radio and YouTube, I got to hear some of their other songs, and was surprised to find that they were much better.

After the recent death of The Fall's singer-songwriter Mark E. Smith, there were more accolades for the band, so I checked out some more of their songs on YouTube, and again, they fit into a fun, creative flavor of post-punk that I appreciated. After a few songs, I noticed that "Eat Y'self Fitter" appeared in the list of suggested videos, so I tapped on it to see if it was really as bad as I remembered.

Indeed it was. I'd describe it as the musical equivalent of one of those terrible Saturday Night Live sketches where they repeat the same joke over and over, and it's not just unfunny, you're not even sure why it was supposed to be funny. So I Googled the song to see if I was the only one that had the same reaction, and I was shocked to find that it is one of the all time favorites of British uber-DJ John Peel.

So I guess the lesson here is that not everyone's tastes line up. And never judge a musician by one song.

I May Need Glastonbury

The big music festivals have posters that list all the bands playing, and they usually follow the same form:

The biggest acts are at the top, and they get the biggest print.  As you go down, the performers are harder to recognize, and their names are harder to read.  It occurred to me that this format is not unlike another famous poster:

Both posters seem harmless enough to young people. But for older people, they cause some trouble the further down the poster you go.  The eye chart reminds you that your sight isn't what it once was, and the festival poster reminds you that you aren't as cool as you once were.

But the good news is that for many people, their eyesight and coolness deteriorate at the same rate. you haven't heard of the musicians named at the bottom of the lineup, but that's okay, because you can't read that far down anyway. Who's playing Coachella this year? Radiohead, Lady Gaga, Kendrick Lamar... um, some other people, I'm sure I'm familiar with as well.

V's Are Everywhere You Want To Be

After yesterday's difficult post, I'd like to explore an unimportant and less serious topic: What is with all the superfluous V's in the names of indie rock bands?

Wavves and Chvrches have been around for a few years now. But now I see that there's a band called Alvvays. (I like their sound; they bring back pleasant 90's memories.) While I realize that band name trends come and go, this seems strange.

I could see using strange spellings of words: online promotion is so important these days that the band would want to have their own web site or Twitter handle. It says something that it's more important to know the spellings of band names than the pronunciation. I've heard people pronounce Wavves and Chvrches as "waves" and "churches." But I don't know if Alvvays should be "always" as most English speakers would pronounce it, or as a hack actor impersonating a German interrogator.

And what's so special about V? It's had two TV series. And V For Vendetta has an art/rebellion vibe musicians would appreciate. Though it's not just music: there's also an indie video game called VVVVVV. (Great game, try the online demo. It brings back pleasant 80's memories)  I know I'm not going to complain too much about V's; after over use of iWords and X-things, the rest of the alphabet should get in on the action.

I've Got A New Complaint

You know I'm a fan of independent media, take an interest in technology, and am a child at heart. So it will be no surprise that I've jumped on the bandwagon of the burgeoning indie video game scene. That is, if you were aware that indie video games are a scene, and that they have burgeoned to the point of having a bandwagon.

So it's a disappointment to see the news about Flappy Bird. If you haven't heard, it's a simple game created by Dong Nguyen, a solo programmer in Vietnam, that became a breakout hit. And if you further haven't heard, he withdrew the game from app stores at the height of its popularity because of the stress its success had put on his life.

Some reaction to the end of Flappy Bird

That's kind of troubling when you combine it with the experience of Phil Fish. He created a cool game called Fez. It was popular and critically-acclaimed, but in the middle of creating a sequel, he abruptly stopped and retired from the business.

One starts to wonder if the Internet's underbelly of anonymous anger might be curtailing individual work. A company can avoid a lot of this vitriol - the company itself attracts the attacks, and that imaginary person doesn't have feelings to hurt.  But an individual has to take the Internet's firehose of criticism all by themselves; it's an awkward middle-ground in a world where most of us are safe because of either wealth or anonymity. 

So perhaps future businesses will be more anonymous, if creators decide that avoiding the catcalls is more important that getting personal credit. That Bitcoin guy may be on to something.

Midlife Crisis

Pretty much the only place I listen to the radio is in the car.  Lately the station I've listened to the most is CJIQ, the station on Conestoga College.  You might think I'd be intimidated by the young people's music.  But actually, these kids really like their heavy metal. So it's not that different from my own high school experience.  And now that Black Sabbath has a new album out, I have the odd experience of hearing people twenty years younger than me tell me about music made by people twenty years older than me.

I also get the experience of looking at music with a new context.  During the first wave of 60's nostalgia in the 80's, I remember my parents struggling to explain to me why they found it odd to see Herman's Hermits playing on the same bill as The Who.  Well, now I understand where they were coming from.  Today I heard them play Faith No More's "Epic," followed by Linkin Park's "Faint."

At first, that shocked me.  First, you have a song from my high school days, by an innovative and influential band with a cult following.  Then you've got a song from almost a decade later, from a massively popular band in the leading style of the day.

But when you look at it from the student-DJ's perspective, free of the context, it makes sense.  You see that it's two songs mixing hard rock with hip hop, also incorporating some classical keyboards.  So now I'll just have to wait a few more years for their inevitable joint concert tour.

We Are Never Ever Getting This Joke

I sympathize with a local band trying to get attention.  But this is a good example of self-contradictory humour: Most of the people who would read on past the set up would be offended by the punchline.

Ryan's Rage

When news came out that Republican VP nominee Paul Ryan listed Rage Against The Machine as one of his favourite musicians, I knew I had to write a post about it.  The only question was which Rage song to use in a headline pun:

• Ballot in the Head?
• Bull on Parade?
• (Don't) Know Your Enemy?
• Renegades of Spin?
• Or perhaps a lyrical clip, "Fox News, I won't do what you tell me?"

Now that I've got that out of my system, on with the post.  If you're interested, Rage guitarist Tom Morello gave his thoughts in a Rolling Stone article (he's not amused.) 

First of all, this recalls the mini-controversy that shows up in pretty much every American political campaign, in which a musician gets an injunction to stop a Republican politician from using their song on the campaign.  Just in the time I was working on this entry I saw it go by on the news that Dee Snider of Twisted Sister won't let Ryan use "We're Not Gonna Take It."  I keep wondering when Republicans are going to figure out that they're stuck with only Country music for their campaign stops.  Or Ted Nugent.

Well now it turns out that Paul Ryan is a fan of one of the most openly politically-liberal groups of their generation.  That brings up the question of just how much the meaning and intent of a song matters to the enjoyment of the song.  It's not a question I have to deal with often, being a left-leaning person who is not a fan of Country (or Ted Nugent.)

I'm trying to think of instances where I'm in Ryan's shoes:  There are artists who's attitude is not one I completely follow.  I don't look at life with quite the emptiness that, say, Joy Division's lyrics would indicate, but I share enough of their world-view that I do know where they're coming from.  There are a few one-off, one-issue songs I can say I don't agree with:  The Smith's "Meat is Murder" comes to mind, since I'm not a vegetarian.  But that's one song out of many, so it's easy to look the other way on a song of hard-line animal rights beliefs, when I am with them on so many other songs.

And of course there are plenty of artists who's music is lyrically ambiguous.  Maybe the New Pornographers are far-right activists, and we'd know if we could only understand their lyrics.  That of course begs the question of how important the lyrics are.  But I think there's a difference between ignoring cryptic lyrics and ignoring clear lyrics that promote ideas you've dedicated your life to fighting.

So I have no explanation.  Either Paul Ryan is so emotionally flexible that he can share in a band's feelings without sharing in the reason for those feelings, or he's just trying to win votes from his Gen-X brethren.  Or he uses music to live out fantasies of being a liberal, in the same way suburban white kids listen to hip-hop imagining themselves to be gangstas.

Bright Side of Life, Dark Side of the Moon

If you've read my tweets in the shiny new Twitter gadget I just installed in the margin, you know I wasn't too impressed by the Olympic Closing Ceremonies.  I liked the opening for its ability to show a variety of elements of British culture, not merely the clichés everyone already knows.

The closing ceremonies were supposed to do the same thing.  According to our commentators, the slate of music was chosen to be not necessarily the best British songs of all time, but rather a representative selection of songs.  I can agree with the "not necessarily the best" part, but representative?  The impression one got was that Britain recorded a bunch of famous classic rock anthems before 1980, and after that, have done nothing but bubblegum pop. 

There was plenty of old music, so I assume people over about fifty were probably happy, though I suspect they would be disappointed that other than an appearance by Ray Davies of The Kinks, there wasn't much that isn't already the stuff of mainstream radio.  Anyone younger - and appreciative of light pop - was likely glad to see the Spice Girls reunion, though they seem to be less remembered than the height of their fame would suggest.

Trouble is, the Spice Girls, Take That, and George Michael - who mostly appealed to the same people - formed most of the representation of the eighties and nineties.  For that huge part of the audience that is under fifty and not into bubblegum, our entire musical experience was summed up by Fatboy Slim and one song by half of Oasis.  Okay, there was the Pet Shop Boys too, but they were relegated to playing during the athletes' march; I looked down at the wrong time and missed seeing them altogether.  What's especially odd is that two bands that would have brought some balance to the program, Blur and New Order, were there, but only for an earlier concert outside the stadium.

Look, I realise not everyone can get the perfect show for them.  To quote, ironically enough, the Rolling Stones, "you can't always get what you want."   Just because I'd like to see them end with the Jesus and Mary Chain covering Paranoid Android doesn't mean everyone else would.  But really, a retrospective of British music with no punk, metal, new wave, Madchester, trip hop, or grime?  That lack of depth made the whole production seem like nothing more than a really big Super Bowl half-time show.

Olympic Butthole Surfers

There's always a debate at the Olympics about whether it's too big, and whether some of the old sports should be dropped, and whether some more of the big, globally-popular sports should be included.  Rugby and golf are coming next time.  Baseball sometimes gets in.  On the other hand, some of the smaller, quainter sports probably wouldn't exist without the Olympics.  When was the last time you heard about the Modern Pentathlon in any other context?

I differ from many in that I'd get rid of the big popular sports.  See, the Olympics are like Lollapalooza: it started with a bunch of little attractions that don't normally get recognition, but when banded together can generate a lot of interest.  But then it gets more and more popular, and the bigger attractions want to take part.  So you're adding in basketball or soccer or Metallica.  But that makes the little attractions start to seem trivial and irrelevant, and the focus is on the big attractions.  But they seem redundant, since they already get a lot of attention anyway.  Olympic tennis?  Didn't we just have Wimbledon?  Didn't Pearl Jam just tour last year?

I'm not asking to turn the Olympics into some wild freak show of alternative athletics: no one wants to find out what the sporting equivalent of Goth subculture would look like.  I'm just saying that if everyone on Earth is going to spend two weeks every four years (that's 1% of our lives) immersed in sports, it's refreshing when they're not the same old sports we're semi-immersed in the rest of the time.

A Hipster's Dilemma

Let's say a band has a song that's being used in a TV commercial. Do you have a responsibility to listen to the song in full, just so you can experience their true vision for the song?  Or it just part of their Faustian bargain with commercialism, that it will be forever associated with chewing gum? 

Down With Corporate Drinks

Extending my previous post about hipsters taking over grocery stores, I found new evidence of the non-mainstreaming of our food vendors. On one of the signs at the end of an aisle, it notified us that in addition to juice and bottled water, this particular aisle has something called "Alternate Beverages." 

First of all, that's "Indie Beverages," grandpa.  I went down the aisle looking for them, but I'm still not sure which particular drinks they were referring to.  Was it:

• Vitamin Water?  That's kind of an alternative to water.  But it's The Man's water.
• Jones Soda?  It's always seemed like too-cool cola.
• Crystal Light and other "water-enhancers"?  Nah, water is the lo-fi of the beverage world, and Crystal Light is the pitch-shifter.
• Brio, Irn-Bru, Orangana and other lesser-known or foreign soft-drinks?  I've always wondered who is buying these things.  If I find them for sale at downtown convenience stores, then that'll confirm it.