Showing posts with label Rockism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rockism. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

sym

So Crazy Right Now



So, we each pick twenty songs released this decade (this decade will henceforth be known as "the decade" - I still can't believe that it's been ten years and nobody has figured out a name.) We are holding ourselves to a one song per artist maximum, to prevent Jedd from listing twenty Vampire Weekend songs (not that I should talk - if you want my all TI version of this list, just drop a note in the comments.) This list is not a list of the best songs, these are just our personal favorites. We cool? Here's 20-16. Let's get this popping.



20. Lil Mama - Lip Gloss

This decade in music was messy and glorious and (at least in my city) filled with mopey hipsters rediscovering the simple pleasures of getting wasted and hollering along with the monster pop song of the moment while a hairy stranger rubs up against you. Or something like that. Will Oldham made cameos in Kanye videos, Jay-Z showed up at Grizzly Bear shows, rockism was generally decried, and nerdy critic-types (like yours truly) learned to love the club banger. Music's pleasures became, for the lack of a less reductive word, simpler. Of course, some people probably spent the decade in a dark room listening to Bright Eyes and Radiohead and carving Dashboard Confessional lyrics into their arms, which I suppose is its own punishment. For the rest of us, there's a song by a teenage girl from Brooklyn who happens to be rocking a truly fantastic shade of lip gloss and wants to tell the world about it. The beat is just handclaps and footstomps arranged to sound like a drum machine preset. It's simple, banging, and effective, just like "Louie Louie." It's great to dance to, and almost as good to stand and holler along to. What else do you need?

19. Morrissey - First of the Gang to Die

Music's ur-mopey intellectual also decided to (marginally) lighten up this decade, writing what just might be the decade's finest gangsta rap song. "First of the Gang" is a bear hug to the Mozzer's adoring (and improbable) Chicano fanbase. But Morrissey never quite romanticizes or mythologizes the subculture he sings about, inverting tired Robin Hoodisms with "and he stole from the rich/ and the poor/ and the not-very-rich/ and the very poor." But he admits Hector stole our hearts away. That's important too.

18. Silver Jews - How Can I Love You If You Won't Lie Down

The Silver Jews' David Berman also had an interesting decade, emerging from bouts of drug addiction and mental illness to become a better Jew (!), write a fantastic essay about his teenage ecstasy use, and record a resonant country pisstake. The title's unanswerable question got at least a couple of my friends laid (which is all you can really ask for from music). Even if you have no use for beardo pickup lines, you can still take a moment to contemplate Berman koans like "Time is a game only children play well" or "fast cars, fine ass/ these things will pass/ and it won't get more profound." Definitely the most poignant rollicking fake country song of the last ten years.



17. The Weakerthans - One Great City!


A bittersweet tribute to Winnipeg, the city I was born in. I came back twice this decade, both times in the dead of winter, once for my grandparents' 60th anniversary, and the second time for my grandfather's funeral a few years later. My mother, like a lot of talented young Winnipeggers, fled West about as soon as she could. Downtown Winnipeg is filled with hollowed out storefronts and empty lots where thriving businesses used to be, but the local shows still fill the shitty bars even in minus-40 degree weather. The people are impossible to hate, but it is hard not to get depressed by the city. The song describes a few of life's routine humiliations, disses local heroes Burton Cummings and Dale Hawerchuck, and catalogues all the reasons to hate Winnipeg. I can usually hold out until the line about "watching the North End die" before I get misty.


16. Beyonce - Crazy In Love


The most ecstatic, triumphant, danceable, head-rushingly romantic song about having handles like brass-balled Lakers point guard Nick Van Exel ever. It's just a fucking awesome song, ok?

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

sym

Why all our dreams will be crushed, eventually

One of the great modern rituals of campaigning is the unveiling of personal tastes, blanded out in order not to offend even the most culturally backwards constituent. And nothing could be more revealing than the songs in each candidate's iPod. The best word for Barack Obama's taste in music is, um, tasteful. He showed his iPod to Rolling Stone and unsurprisingly, the magazine didn't find anything that the average Rolling Stone reader isn't familiar with. He likes the Stones, Dylan, Coltrane, and Stevie Wonder above everyone else (nothing wrong with that) and also Sheryl Crow (Hillary come back, all is forgiven). He also likes some modern hippa-to-the-hoppa stuff like Jay-Z, but only with much furrowing of the brow about the misogyny and materialism and the message it sends his daughters. It's sad to say, but Obama just might be a Rockist. Of course, if Obama so much as breathes in or around one of these evil rapper folks, a million idiotic right-wing blog posts will spring forth. Blandness is probably the best defense. At least he loves The Wire.

You probably don't think John McCain has an iPod. After all, he is unable to answer the question "Mac or PC?" (Seriously, there's a 50% chance this guy will be the most powerful person in the world in a few month. This planet is the best.) But here is his personal listening device, in all its glory:
He leaked his current on-the-go playlist to Daily Kos:

Woodchopper's Hornpipe
The True And Trembling Brakeman
That Crazy War (of 1812)
Globe Trotting Nelly Bly
Adam In The Garden Pinnin' Leaves
Roll The Cotton Down
Granny Does Your Dog Bite
Hop Up, My Ladies
Cluck Old Hen
Boys All My Money's Gone
Gonna Keep My Skillet Greasy

and an ode toA his lovely wife Cindy:
Liberty Off The Corn Liquor Still

Actually, John McCain doesn't have an iPod. But his trust-fundie "Blogette" daughter sure does! And she likes Ryan Adams! And Incubus! And Joss Stone's horrible White Stripes cover "Fell in love with a boy"! If John McCain can't stop his own daughter from listening to Ryan Adams, how can we expect him to be able to stand up to Ahmadinejad? (Hmm, can't seem to find any iPod playlists on his blog. On the other hand, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad has his OWN BLOG! Maybe Buzz Bissinger was right about blogging after all...)

But the purpose of this post isn't merely to implore good Americans to never, ever, EVER elect a hipster First Daughter. Because as fun as it is to point and laugh, your three correspondents have their own musical skeletons in their, um, iPod closets. This week's question/experiment, courtesy of the DCeiver, is:

1. Take out your iPod (or Zune, I guess...really, who buys a Zune?)
2. Press shuffle songs.
3. Answer the following: a) How many songs before you come to one that would absolutely disqualify you from being President? b) What is that song?

If all goes as planned, then by the end of this week, none of us will be fit for higher office. But I guess that's nothing new. Good night, and good luck.