Admitted Affection

Guilty pleasure is the wrong word. My crush on WilsonPhillips is guilty. My absolute love for everything Kanye West, well, that is pure pleasure. But sometimes I get myself into something that’s less than respectable. A band my friends would probably avoid. I think, “Given enough time, this ill-regarded band could make the jump to near respectability.”

Oasis is really the poster child for what I’m talking about. By now enough time has passed that every hipster of a certain age is willing and able to defend those first two Oasis records. Dumb as a bag of hammers? Yes. But they did have some killer lines, didn’t they? And they married their wistful, obvious rhymes an unbeatable streak of great melodies. Took me forever to admit it, but Oasis was a great band. For a little while.

Oasis aren’t alone. There are several bands that might fit the Oasis mold. I don’t mean they’re on the same level quality-wise. Indeed, me and everyone reading this would be better off listening to something else besides the five bands in this post. But at some point, these dudes might turn a corner. Or savvy listeners might re-evaluate their past masters. Maybe they’ve got some good qualities we’ve overlooked. Maybe they aren’t too smart. And sure, they’ve all got some serious weaknesses. But they’ve all achieved critical mass at some point (if not critical approval). Some of them are still very popular. Yet, for some reason, people with actual taste haven’t quite given in.

This post is basically me wondering aloud: do these bands have significant redeeming qualities? Such that you might want to be acquainted? For your convenience, I’ve listed them in order, based on the strength of my recommendation. And the last band on this list probably shouldn’t have made it.

Coldplay

This is the most obvious example, and they may be the closest to that magical moment when knowledgeable music lovers admit, “yeah, I don’t turn them off when I hear one of the singles.” I certainly feel that way. But when it comes to Coldplay’s first record, Parachutes, I don’t merely tolerate it. I fucking love it.

This first track sets a tone for the whole record, with it’s “Ventura Highway” chords, and it’s nautically flanged organ and guitar. The thing is, it’s a wonderful guitar record from beginning to end. And Chris Martin’s lyrics, while occasionally cringe-worthy, are better here than they ever would be again. Yeah that voice is unfuckwithable, but the songs and playing are also first-rate. Sure Parachutes got knocked as Radiohead wannabe. But my dark, guilty secret is that I like Parachutes almost as much as I like The Bends.

Snow Patrol

If you’ve heard of Snow Patrol, you’ve may only be familiar with their execrable major label output, recorded after they realized how much money they could make if they sounded more like Coldplay. But their first two records were totally different than the soaring adult contemporary pap they’re putting out now.

On those first two records, Songs for Polar Bears and When It's All Over We Still Have to Clear Up, they were still awfully sensitive but the hooks weren’t nearly as obvious as they are now. Both early records grew on me precisely because their tender ballads were so subtly well-constructed.

It helped that they sounded more like an American indie band than the treacly wave of British crap that followed Coldplay’s success (e.g., Starsailor, Travis). You’ll hear what I mean here:

Anyway, I dig the hell out of those first two records. But, like Oasis, they haven’t done anything worth a damn since.

The Killers

The jury’s still out on The Killers. I thought they were laughably bad when I saw them open for the Pixies. But then I saw them on Saturday Night Live shortly after the release of their second record. They sounded much better. A little like Bruce Springsteen and Tom Petty had a new-wave baby. Hmmm, I said. Maybe a year or two later, I encountered the same song on Guitar Hero III. Loved it. Lyrics are a bit overwrought, but shit this song is fun.

I fell even harder for “Bones.” They might be stealing from every 80s New Wave ever, but on this song the  the production sounds more like Frank Black’s early solo records and They Might Be Giants. I’m sure it’s just the cheesy horns, but it’s an awful lot of fun. Yes, I said fun again.

 

So yeah, I’m listening to the Killers a lot lately. I’m almost to the point where I like them enough to not include them in this post. Almost.

Third Eye Blind

When I worked at the Hard Rock Cafe in Houston, I actually enjoyed waiting tables with a constant stream of music videos blaring all around me. It was a pretty good mix of classic rock (Dire Straits, Beatles), semi-popular indie rock (Pulp, Jeff Buckley) and current buzz faves (remember Eve6???).

Yeah the Buzz bands were my least favorite, too. But there was one buzz song in frequent rotation I always liked to hear: Third Eye Blind’s “Losing a Whole Year.”

More than anything I liked the way it set the pace for me when I was burning a path between my tables and the kitchen, but I noticed something else, too. Third Eye Blind were a lot more musically sophisticated than Hootie or Matchbox20. Losing a Whole Year is a chorus-free hit song, constructed with some odd arpeggios and a wandering bass melody. That self-titled debut also had “How’s it Going to Be”, another of TEB’s banal relationship songs that seems to nevertheless seemed to hit me square in the gut at the time. Maybe that one is a guilty pleasure.

Their second record had much less going for it, but I liked the lead single quite a bit. Here again, I dug the unexpected craftsmanship that you get in otherwise generic, empty-headed buzz hit. Great drum sounds, harmonized bass lines, a bridge that returns seamlessly to the verse and a nice re-imagination of the chorus. The sophistication ceased to be a surprise once I learned that singer Steven Jenkins successfully insisted on producing his own records, and his guitarist and co-writer studied guitar with Joe Satriani (that might explain the focus on composition rather than pure wankery).

Unfortunately, they look like tools in their videos. And that’s probably because they are tools. The songs certainly don’t give you a lot of substance beyond the better-than-average studio chops and some radio-ready hooks. But I tend to evaluate bands relative to their peers. I ask, did this band exceed the mark set by others in their same weight class? The answer has got to be yes. Would you rather listen to Third Eye Blind or 3 Doors Down?  When I was at the Hard Rock Cafe, I didn’t have a choice, but I had a pretty clear preference.

Kings of Leon

This last one is difficult to explain or justify. I just love this song. And I keep hoping they’ll write other songs just as good.

Sadly, it’s unlikely to happen. Most of their other songs are pretty crappy. And singer Caleb Followill is easily the worst lyricist in this list. He’s alright when you can barely understand him. But more often than not, you hear him pretty clearly. And all his songs are about sex. I’ve supported this approach in the past (because rock ‘n’ roll really should be about getting it on). But this dude needs to get his head out of his loins. Sample, you ask?

Free- is all that she could bleed
That's why'll she'll never stay
White- bare naked in the night
Just lookin' for some play

Just another girl that wants to rule the world
Any time or place
And when she gets into your head
You know she's there to stay

You want it
She's got it
Molly's Chambers gonna change your mind
She's got your
Your pistol

Yeah… it’s pretty bad. Still, of all the Strokes-y bands, I love KoL for their southern bent, clean guitars, and singer distinctive voice. If they could marry that sound with decent songs that weren’t mired in single entendres, I might be able to recommend them more heartily. But hey, they don’t need you or me. They’re fucking huge in Britain.

Just like Oasis.

First official post for the Nonalignment Pact

Forgive me, I wasn’t officially appointed the new Saturday person until Thursday, so I’m afraid I don’t have much in the way of prepared remarks. Also, I don’t want to write a long, navel-gazing “about me” post in which I introduce myself.

Better to say that I thought this blog was a bad ass idea when first introduced in late 2006, and I’m dorkily excited to post here once a week.

__________________

eMusic has been gradually compiling their own top 100 list all week. Right now, they list only 100  through 11. Because I’ve had an unfortunate fixation on “indie rock” for much of my adult music life, I own 55 of the 90 listed recordings. eMusic shares the same fixation, which is why I’ve been a subscriber since 2001.

__________________

The new Beck record came out this week. If you weren’t big fans of the last two records, Guero and The Information, I agree. Both were bloated, unfocused, and not very fun. Beck sounded like he was trying a zillion different ideas and discovering none of them worked all that well. Seemed to put him in a bad mood.

The mood is pretty dour on Modern Guilt, too. But the sound is energized and cohesive. The clutter is gone, and the songs stand together like a well built fence—consistent, sturdy construction, with enough space to allow for a nice breeze. There’s a lot of other crap you could learn about this record by reading the reviews, but here is what you must know: it frequently sounds like Queens of the Stone Age.

In a good way.

__________________

This is cool: “Right now, we can equip you with a rebuilt Roland TR-808, TR-909, TB-303 and some floorboards. Interested? Give it a try!”

__________________

Finally, there’s this.

GORBACHOV: THE MUSIC VIDEO - BIGGER AND RUSSIANER from Tom Stern on Vimeo.

Week 74: Ladies

This past week, things have gotten a bit heavy around here. When I am told to "lighten up just a wee bit" by Mr. Cramer, who I consider one of the heaviest guys around, then I know I’m sinking into some heavy territory. I blame the moon.

So instead of trying to write something that will invariably turn heavy, here’s some ladies that always lighten up my day.

THE ROCKER


PURO SABOR


THE COOL CAT


THE VOICE


THE EXTRATERRESTRIAL


THE YODELER AND MY FAVORITE AUSTRALIAN LADY

[Here’s Part 1 and Part 3 of the Australian Outback series]

Week 56: Piano Solos

Hopefully you’re spending thanksgiving with some friends and/or family and you are sharing some good music together. If you find yourself in a bind and no one has an instrument, or a new recording they want to play, here’s some piano stuff. One can never go wrong with some piano music on the holidays. Turn it up!

THE MOUSE

(Gotta love that Asbestos curtain.)

TWO MASTERS AT WORK


THE SONGSTER IN FERNWOOD


THE VIRTUOSO


THE INCOMPARABLE


TOO HIGH TO REALIZE


Happy Thanksgiving.

Week 53: Anniversary Post-Party With Bob Downe And Dick Cheese

One year! I hope all of you will open a bottle of your favorite drink and toast to the NAP. 365 posts in a row, plus 41 podcasts, that is quite an achievement and I trust we are all as proud of ourselves as we should be. In our honor here’s down under native Bob Downe singing the theme from Fame. Please make time to watch this; it is truly a most inspiring artistic statement.



For me this has been a very rewarding year writing for this blog. I’ve written a lot of stuff I’d meant to write for a long time and I feel that if nothing else, my writing stamina has increased.

Besides the fact that I wrote more than I could’ve ever imagined, I have some very fond memories of the blog during the past year. And that is something because my memory is as weak as a porcelain bong. But without thinking about it too much, I remember some very good moments. So here they are now, the top ten most memorable moments according to my faulty aging memory, in the order in which I remembered them.

1. The Shorty video of Me and Coopie (I think that was the name of the song). Damn that was a great song and a great video, I must have watched it a hundred times, and I think I’m gonna go watch it again as soon as I’m done with this. Shorty and their follow up, US Maple, also turned out to be a great new discovery for me.

2. Ramon's post about the KTRU local music show dj, the extensive and aggressive comment thread it inspired, and the following week’s guest post by the DJ in question. Can someone please do something stupid, so we can tear into them like this again? This really felt like a blog in action during that time.

3. The miss something or other contestant playing the trumpet solo to the Star Wars theme. Jesus, it still haunts me in my dreams, and I’m always laughing.

4. My fables series. Not that many of you seem to have liked this, but I did, and one day, somewhere else, I’m gonna do the second cycle, which will be like the first but a little different, and it will be done live, live in the mountains and deserts with marching bands and hippies and some giant heavy metal organ in the woods.

5. Head Stapler’s sudden substitute post about the crazy woman crying bloody murder over the radio. An awesome story.

6. The spiral of drummers with the Boredoms in the middle, a music performance that really made me wish I had been in NYC to see, no amount of descriptions or youtube videos could’ve possibly conveyed it.

7. Kilian’s post in white letters on a white background. To this day I always check his posts for secret messages, just in case he’s hiding stuff in there again like that. Very sneaky, and I love sneaky.

8. Various comments by Matthew. Wish he was around more. His comments always involved some very detailed and interesting information about whatever it was he was talking about, dogs, Steely Dan, pop music, whatever it was.

9. Rosa's and Head Stapler's support. What can I say, simply put, these two women rock. Rosa’s photos, guest posts, Spanish music, grindcore, great comments, and Head Stapler’s commitment to the podcast, paintings, crazy frontier stories, guest posts and great comments are unequaled. I’m not sure I would still be here without them.

10. And last on the list, but not least on the list, is John, being himself, post after post after post. I always liked and admired John during the days when we lived in the same city and played music very close to each other. We were never what I might call really good friends, but at the various times when our lives intersected I always felt the kind of kinship with him that does not need the reinforcement of friendship. He did his thing, I did mine. It has been great to reconnect with him, even if it's only through this veiled medium, and to see that he is still doing his thing with the same dignity, directness, and passion that he had then.

Ok, that got a bit serious there… Let’s get back to the party with some Gin and Juice. Here’s Richard Cheese showing how it is done.

Week 43: Guitar Solos

The Master:


The Mouth Guitar Legend:


The Coolest:


The Classicist and his Class:


The Real Deal:


Bonus: Surreal!

Week 42: Drum Solos

The Athlete:


The Virtuoso:


The Awesomest:


The Circus Show:


The Real Deal:


The Ultimate:
Play all of the above at once.

Week 18: The Mancinis

Also included: Part 6 of The Book of Fables.

To the whole Snake Gang. One for one and all for all.

We all know Henry Mancini as the great Hollywood film composer, but did you know that he was also the head of an extensive family that had its foot in almost every facet of the music business? You didn’t think someone gets 72 Grammy nominations (winning 20) and 18 Oscar nominations (winning 4) without a little bit of help, did you?

So here’s the family.

The Patriarch and mastermind: Henry Mancini, himself, seen here showing Paul McCartney that he can make sappy songs even sappier.


The matriarch: Ginny Mancini ran the Henry Mancini Institute until it ceased operations on 12/31/2006. Here's an interview with her during happier times, talking about the Henry Mancini US postal stamp.

The twin daughters:
- Monica Mancini is still singing away with orchestras and was nominated for two Grammys in 2005 for singing her father’s songs.
- Felice Mancini is executive director of the Mr. Holland’s Opus Foundation, which supports music education and its many benefits through the donation of new and refurbished musical instruments to underserved school and community music programs and individual students nationwide.

The son: Chris Mancini has been involved in almost every aspect of the music business, including publishing, production, soundtrack composing for TV and film, record label executive and even made a go at being a rock star. Here’s a review of his record by someone who claims to have been in the dark about Chris Mancini’s family. Yeah, right. These days he does remixes of his father’s songs, such as those on The Pink Panther’s Penthouse Party, recently released by Virgin Records.

The Grandsons:
- Chris Mancini, Jr., is a sci-fi and comedy filmmaker.
- Roberto Mancini is a futbol superstar. Soon stadium crowds will be singing the Baby Elephant Walk or the Transamerica Express as they riot. Here's a 24 second clip of Roberto Mancini kicking a gol with his heel.

The Grandniece: Alessia Mancini is a teen pop idol in Italy. Here's a video of her. You probably only need to watch about 10 seconds to get the idea.

The Great-grandson: Valentin Mancini is the heir apparent.Here’s a 13 second video.

The Grandnephew: Jon Mancini is the drunk because the drunk may be the most important part of any family intent on musical domination. Here’s Jon Mancini* as the incredible Drunken Master.

And although no family relation has been acknowledged by the musical Mancinis, we all know that every family needs some muscle. Here’s Ray “Boom Boom” Mancini (son of Lenny “Boom Boom” Mancini) knocking out Orlando Romero in the 9th.

And here’s part 6 of The Book of Fables:
THE COMPOSING FAMILY

The Large Head of the Composing Family had found another hit song, again in an extremely unlikely place. By now he knew to look in extremely unlikely places. Music schools, music competitions, record labels, and Tin Pan Alleys rarely produced the true hit songs. The true hit songs were found in extremely unlikely places. The Large Head of the Composing Family knew how to tell a true hit song from a fake hit song. How he knew, he never said. It was his secret and not even the Large Heart of the Composing Family knew the secret, and it’s not like she didn’t try, but the Large Head would never say. He would however, often talk about true hit songs and fake hit songs in ways that appeared to tell the secret, but never really did. “Fake hit songs,” he would say while sitting at piano with the rest of the Composing Family around him, “have a fake life. They pretend to be hit songs, but really they are empty inside and only sound like hit songs because they think that’s what others want them to sound like. But most of them would really be happier staying home with mom and dad being little family songs for the children to sing. True hit songs, however, vibrate with the melody and rhythm of an internal music that doesn’t care what anyone thinks, a music that is so true to itself that it is immediately recognized by the music each of us brought with us from the time before we were born, and therefore, whether we like it or not the true hit song connects with our internal song and an unbreakable bond is made that won’t let go.” And in this way the Large Head of the Composing Family could go on for hours while tinkling playful melodies on the piano.

Some might have thought it strange to hear him talking like this since the Composing Family had by their own admission propped up to great success many fake hit songs. The Composing Family, in the tradition of other Composing Families worked hard to make money, and were very successful at it, having had a string of fake hit songs for as long as anyone could remember. But now as the Large Head sat at the piano and played the song he had heard the Motionless Busker play for The Teenager, he knew it was a true hit song. The Large Heart of the Composing Family heard the song and immediately sweet tender tears of love began to well in her eyes, and she also knew it was a true hit song. The Mouth of the Composing Family immediately got on the phone and called The Producer to arrange an audition while the Voice of the Composing Family practiced the song with the Large Head. Everyone in the Composing Family had a job to do, the Older Fist, the Younger Fist, the Mouth, the Voice, the Feet, the Ears, the Stomach, the Spirit, they each had a job to do in the Composing Family and they did it well. And soon The Producer arrived to audition the song that the Composing Family had for him.

The Producer arrived in his big car and had his assistant announce him. This was completely normal behavior for them. The Producer then shook the Large Head’s hand, and said “Ok, let’s hear the song.” He always addressed the Large Head as if he was the only one there, even though the house was always brimming with other members of the family. Meanwhile the assistant went to the assistant waiting room to wait and play with The Producer’s miniature dog. Did I mention that the assistant carried The Producer’s miniature dog everywhere they went? Well, he did. The Producer couldn’t stand being away from his miniature dog, so everywhere he went so did the miniature dog, which, by the way, spent more time with the assistant and had greater affection for him than for The Producer. So while the assistant had a great time playing with the miniature dog, The Producer listened to the Large Head and the Voice of the Composing Family play the song that was already a little different from the song that the Motionless Busker had sung for The Teenager. The song would, eventually, be extremely different by the time The Teenager would hear it again, but this wouldn’t happen for quite some time. Right now, The Producer, after hearing the first ten seconds of the song called his assistant who came running in with the miniature dog. The assistant put the miniature dog on The Producer’s lap and leaned forward so that The Producer could whisper something in his ear. The Producer then got up, gave the miniature dog back to the assistant, and walked up to the Large Head of the Composing Family. Paying no attention to the fact that he was still playing the song The Producer rudely interrupted him. “You’ve done it again,” said The Producer. The Large Head stopped playing, got up from the piano and shook The Producer’s hand, “Same as usual?” “Same as usual,” answered The Producer. And without another word, The Producer left with his miniature dog and his assistant.

What happened next is a blur. Not a blur because it was forgotten, but a blur because there were so many people moving and talking so fast that you couldn’t really make out what anyone was doing or saying. Like the way the inside of a tornado is a blur, or the way the legs of horses in a stampede are a blur, or the way that a million people talking at the same time is a blur. Such as blur that try as you might to look or hear what is going on or what is being said, you just can't. The blur started at the Composing Family’s home, and quickly spread around it, blurring everything in its way. Within hours the Composing Family’s neighborhood and then their town were also a blur. It happened so fast that there was nothing anyone could do. One moment a neighbor was talking to her kids about the importance of education, and the next moment everything is a blur. And the blur kept expanding and expanding, eventually reaching the farthest corners of the world. And only when everything, truly everything, was a blur, then and only then did things start to slow down and become clear again. And when everything finally stopped being a blur, things seemed to be the way they were before, except for one difference. Everyone was hearing the same song going on in their heads: the true hit song of the Composing Family. Some people liked it and others did not, but that didn’t matter because, like it or not, there it was singing away in everyone’s head, the truest hit song there ever was. Some tried stopping it, but couldn’t. Others didn’t even know it was there, but walked around whistling it. Little by little, however, even those who at first liked the song began to dislike it, but still no one could get rid of it. The best anyone could do was to listen to other songs, but as soon as the other song ended, there was that true hit song again, getting more and more hated by everyone with every passing day. Some suicides were attributed to the song, but it was never proven in a court of law that they were directly caused by the true hit song. But what did happen that was directly attributed to the true hit song is that everyone started to fear silence. And they began to have music playing all the time. There was music for the kitchen, for the bathroom, for the bedroom, for dinner, for breakfast, for sleeping, for driving, for walking, for sitting. There was music here, there and everywhere, in the morning, afternoon and night, and silence became something most people only remembered incorrectly as the sound of that true hit song that the Composing Family had unleashed on the world, and soon the preferred way for parents around the world to get their children to bed was to say that if they didn't go to sleep they were going to stop the music and make them sleep in silence.

But like I said before, The Teenager didn’t hear the song for a long long time. She didn’t hear it when everyone first heard the true hit song. She didn’t hear the true hit song, nor did she hear any of the songs being played to drown out the true hit song in people’s head. She didn’t hear them because The Teenager spent all her time wondering what all this had to do with her. “I am the center of the Universe, why am I not the most important part of everything?” And thoughts like these filled up her head so much that there was no room for the true hit song, nor for any other song, and she mostly listened to only her own true thoughts (though some of them were fake thoughts pretending to be true, but she hadn’t yet learned to tell them apart). Eventually, though she would learn to listen and at that time she would discover some things that were truly amazing about music, and in particular about that song that the Motionless Busker had taught her and which now was in everyone’s head, although in a very distorted and over-produced way.

But that happens later. Right now, The Burdens, one of the premier rock and roll bands in the world, are mad as hell. They claim that the Composing Family stole their song and put it in everyone’s head without asking them or giving them any credit, by which they mean money.

Moral: Watch out for producers with miniature dogs and assistants.

*Not really Jon Mancini. Although drunk Jon Mancini is available on YouTube, this drunk is way better.

Week 14: The Avett Brothers

To Michelle Gardensnake

Pretend Love


Colorshow


In the Curve


The Angriest Dog in the World by David Lynch

(Click to enlarge)

Week 4: Shredders

This week's entry goes out to Duke Rattler. And in the spirit of Thanksgiving excess the entry is about shredders. Because I don’t care if you are Caspar Brötzmann or Lee Renaldo or Tony Iommi, the only valid reason to still play an electric guitar in the 21st century is to shred on YouTube. Based on my intensive and thorough research of YouTube shredders, here are the winners of Anaconda’s First Annual Thanksgiving Shredding-on-YouTube competition. And now for the winners:
Looking like you never leave your room gets you lots of points, but these two shredders prove that you can leave your room and shred in public, in front of people, for dozens of screaming teenagers at some color coordination summer camp.

The second place shredder makes a clear statement by having no furniture in his apartment and wearing white tube socks while he shreds. He also got bonus points for being old.
The third place shredder clearly understands the meaning of shredding – speed. Having a Japanese name also got him some bonus points.
Besides giving bonus points for being old or having a Japanese name, we also award bonus points if you have proof that you work at a guitar store - the ultimate shredder job.
And now here's a little advice to shredders looking to place in next year’s competition.
• We have to be able to see your face, or at least that you are covering it with a hat or hair or whatever.
• Don’t try to be ironic or sarcastic about your shredding, being able to shred is the ultimate accomplishment as an electric guitarist, do not apologize for it.
• A shredder’s room is like his record cover, do not try to create atmosphere in your room with lights or any other visual tricks.
• Do not play with background tracks, shredding does not need any backup.
• Finally, do not, under any circumstances, play Eruption (or any Van Halen licks for that matter).

And finally I have to add one special shredder category, the Special Canon Award, for those shredders who specialize on playing JerryC's arrangement of Paco Bell’s Canon in D Major (it’s good to see that this little heard oldie is finally getting some well deserved attention). The winner of the Special Canon Award did not let his Malaysian prison cell confine his soul as it did his body. Fly away little buddy.
And you all have a great Thanksgiving weekend. Excess!