Odd Future Rap About Rape, and I Don't Like It

I reviewed Tyler the Creator's Bastard for RapReviews this week. I was excited to hear it, given the rave reviews I had heard of Tyler and his crew, Odd Future. I had the title track on my iPod from someone's year-end list, and I enjoyed it. Tyler was creative, twisted, and dark, and his beats stood out.

And then the rape talk began. To quote my review quoting Tyler, he repeatedly brags about being a rapist, dropping lines like "When I rape a bitch, I hold her down and get my best nut" and "Leave a bitch breathless/ but what the bitch don't know /is that I'm a motherfucking sellout and a rapist" and "you call that shit rape but I think that rape's fun." Those are only three of many references.

In two words, fuck that. I'm not listening to that shit, I'm not giving it a pass, and I'm not signing off on it. I didn't fuck with Eminem when he was rapping about killing his baby momma, and I sure as fuck am not going to listen to a bunch of kids who grew up on Em and decided to go one worse.

It's ironic that the hipster community (coughPitchforkcough) have totally bought into Odd Future, with the standard disclaimer that, yah, it's disturbing, but isn't rap music, like, supposed to be shocking? It makes me question the relationship that us white fans have with hip-hop. What does it mean that we enjoy listening to young black men boast about being the worst stereotypes of their race? What does it mean that we will listen to a young black man rapping about subjects that we would find totally unacceptable if sung by a white artist? That we need the music to be gritty and grimey and ultraviolent in order to get off on it or feel that it is "real"?


And before people start saying, "it's a joke! Lighten up!" here's the deal: some things aren't funny, motherfucker. Imagine a male comedian coming on stage making jokes about raping women. It doesn't work. And it doesn't work because it is attached to a real threat, a real problem, real trauma, real pain. Women get raped all the time. According to the Rape, Abuse, and Incest National Network, there were 250,000 sexual assault victims in the U.S. in 2007. That means that someone you know has been sexually assaulted. So making music that makes light of that, that encourages it, that brags about it, is totally unacceptable. It's a line you can't cross.

I don't expect popular musicians to have the same beliefs, morals, and ethics as myself. I don't demand that all artists I listen to share my liberal beliefs. I can accept that a lot of artists I like are probably assholes.But I also draw the line somewhere, and rapping about rape is one of those lines.

For the record, I also can't bring myself to listen to "The Chronic" because all the songs that aren't pathologically misogynistic are about black people killing other black people. I don't listen to much gangsta rap at all. Reading the daily homicide bulletins about young men of color gunned down on a daily basis has made gangsta braggadocio seem pretty unappetizing. I've been listening to Big L a lot lately, and the fact that he was gunned down makes his violent raps seem less palatable. It's like knowing that the guy who is singing about drinking died of liver failure. Only much more tragic.

Tyler and the Odd Future make interesting music, but they need to realize that some things are taboo for a reason, and being an unconscionable asshole isn't the same as being edgy.

R.I.P. Cadence Review

I reviewed R.I.P. Cadence's The Next Shade of Grey on RapReviews last week.  They are a hybrid hip-hop/R&B/pop group from Nashville. I'm not a fan of this style of music,which showed in my score, but they do it well. I recommend going to their bandcamp page and seeing if it is your style.

I'm working on a review of Tyler the Creator's Bastard mixtape. He's part of the Odd Future crew, who do inventive and twisted hip-hop. I'll get to the twisted part in my review. They did a crazy performance on Fallon, equal parts hip-hop and punk rock. See how they are yelling in the face of the women dressed as an escape mental patient? Just one example of the disturbing mysogyny that are part of this crew's persona.

Fucked Up on Jessica Lea Mayfield and the Stooges.

I'm in a fancy Hyatt hotel room for a conference for the professional association I belong to. I ate dinner by myself at a Ruth's Chris Steakhouse, possibly the worst/most expensive meal I've had in some day. Thank God for expense accounts. Actually, let's leave him/her/it out of this - I'm sure the higher power has much, much better things to worry about than reimbursement policies.

All of which makes me feel old and square and like a tool. So here's a video of one of my favorite, most inspirational songs, complete with a shirtless fat guy singing. Yes, it's the magic of Fucked Up, who are releasing their follow up to 2008s The Chemistry of Modern Life this summer. I'm expecting nothing less than genius. And vocals by a guy who sounds like he is gargling gravel.



In an unrelated note, my new favorite song is Jessica Lea Mayfield's "Our Hearts Are Wrong." It's the single off of her latest album, produced by the Black Key's Dan Auerbach. Ima buy it when I get back to San Francisco. Here's a video of her playing it on Letterman. As a bonus, she is a pretty blonde instead of a fat guy with a beard. Although a fat guy with a beard is on keys.



And for something completely different, I've been listening to the Stooges' Fun House. It may be my favorite of their three albums. Raw, funky, and a walking just say no campaign.



They reformed a few years ago with one of my personal heroes, Mike Watt, on bass. I like clean Iggy better than so fucked up he's about to die Iggy, but I'm not convinced that they have the same fire forty years later.

Custom Made Review

I reviewed the latest album by Cali street rappers Custom Made this week on RapReviews. Solid, if not mind-blowing.

I've been listening to Open Mike Eagle's "Unapologetic Art Rap," which is one of the better albums from last year that I'm just now catching up with.

Live Music

My friend's band Winter's Fall played the Hotel Utah last night, and I didn't go. I also didn't attend a single night of the Noisepop 2011, even though I like a lot of the bands. RapReviews repeatedly sends me notices about hip-hop shows in the city, many with artists I'd love to see, but I never go. I'm realizing that I'm not that interested in seeing live music any more. 

There are a couple reasons for this. One is that I get up at six in the morning, which means I tend to go to bed by 11 every night, which is just about when a show starts popping. Week night shows are a total no-go, but even a Friday night show at Hotel Utah is pretty unrealistic. Winter's Fall were headlining, which meant a midnight start time, by which point I'd be totally done.

The other reason is that, since I got married, I don't have the same need to be out there and mingling with strangers as much. Not that I just want to hang out in my house with my wife, but I don't feel like I'm missing out on meeting somebody or being part of something by not being at a show. I also have different priorities now. I still love music, but it's not the main focus of my life. Work, school and spending time with my family are my big priorities, and I don't have much time or energy for other things.

That doesn't mean I don't still want to see live music, it just isn't the priority it used to be. And I'm ok with that. Part of me misses the days when I went out several times a week, but I was also broke and directionless during that part of my life. It seems like a fair trade off.

More Jazz

I'm still on a jazz kick, knee deep in an obsessive deep dive into it. I did the same thing with hip-hop five or six years ago and reggae two years ago: I'm trying to listen to and read about it as much as possible, discover every classic album, every hidden gem.

My one problem with jazz is that I don't have the musical background to really appreciate it. I can't tell the difference between different times or tones or chords or keys. I can appreciate technique somewhat, but since I've only ever played drums, it's hard for me to appreciate how skilled the musicians are. Still, you don't have to be a musician to know that John Coltrane was brilliant, or Charlie Parker, or Mingus.

I first got into jazz when I was in my teens, probably from reading Ralph Ellison's Invisible Man and some of the early beat stuff. I listened to old Duke Ellington, Dizzie Gillespie, Charlie Parker, and Billie Holiday, who remains a favorite. I dipped into more experimental jazz a few years ago, listening to Coltrane and Mingus. I like how different and envelope-pushing some of the music is: for example, Coltrane's "Ascension" is like nothing I've ever heard, forty solid minutes of cacaphony that is still going somewhere. It's like looking at abstract art: it challenges your perceptions, and takes the art in a totally new and unexpected direction.

Like all abstract or avant-garde art, things like "Ascension," Albert Aylers "Holy Spirit," or Ornette Coleman's "Free Jazz" are often more interesting conceptually than they are enjoyable. I'm listening to "Ascension" as I write it,and the shit is crazy and kind of annoying. No, really annoying. Yet it also fills the same niche for me that some of the noisier post-punk groups like Sonic Youth or Polvo fill - it's noisy and abrasive and beautiful in its chaotic, jagged ugliness.

Of course jazz, like rock, is a huge genre that encompasses a large range of different, many of which are incompatible. When you say you like jazz, you could mean the dance music that Ellington or Glenn Miller were turning out in the 30s and 40s, or the cool jazz of 50s Miles Davis, the swinging bachelor pad swing of a lot of sixties jazz, the freaky jazz-rock of 70s Miles, or smooth jazz artists like Kenny G (who plays the same instrument as Coltrane). Even Coltrane covered a lot of ground. Right after doing Ascension, he did an album of ballads, and also collaborated with Duke Ellington and Johnny Hartman.

Those are two of my favorite Coltrane records. "In A Sentimental Mood" is one of my favorite songs ever.
Ellington lays down a delicate and heartbreaking piano line, and Coltrane goes tastefully crazy over it. He pays homage to the earlier age of jazz while still adding an element of experimentation.


I bought Ascension this week at Amoeba, and I also downloaded both John Coltrane's albums with Ellington and Hartman. Clearly "Ascension" is more adventurous, but  I think I like the two albums of standards better. They are easier to listen to. I thought I wanted to explore the freakier side of jazz, but I'm thinking I might go in the opposite direction, looking at some of the more carefully composed pieces. What makes works like "Black Saint and the Sinner Lady" and "Love Supreme" so exciting and compelling isn't their experimental qualities, but the sheer ambition of them, the way that all the different pieces add up to one whole. That coherence is missing on free jazz pieces, and the free jazz pieces aren't nearly as fun to listen to because of it.

Incidentally, I stole the photo from a site called "Brilliant Corners," and they have a really good post on Coltrane. Many really good posts. With good comments from guys who clearly understand the music on a much deeper level than I ever will.

N.B.S. Review

I reviewed The Prelude, the debut by Boston duo N.B.S. (Natural Born Spitters) on RapReviews this week.

I wasn't really feeling it, but you might. Here's a video for "Ill Lyrical."

The Aztext and Generation Bass Reviews

I reviewed The Aztext second installment of their "Who Cares If We're Dope?" series this week at RapReviews. This time the group worked with with SF producer Touchphonics.


I also reviewed Generation Bass's Transnational Dubstep comp. It's a solid collection of dubstep containing elements of Indian, Latin American, and European folk music. I rated it a little low only because I have a limited capacity for dubstep.

What I'm Listening To

I've been studying a lot, which has changed the music I listen to. I can't study to hip-hop - it's too abrasive and distracting. Instead, I've been listening to a lot of jazz. A lot of jazz albums are cheap on Emusic, so I got a bunch recently, including Oliver Nelson's The Blues and The Abstract Truth.



I also got John Coltrane's A Love Supreme, which is brilliant. It's one of those amazing pieces of music that makes me feel alive. I just wish I knew more about music theory, because I'm sure Coltrane's work is a lot deeper than I'm able to digest.

I've also been listening to old hardcore punk. I put my old Minor Threat, Circle Jerks, and Germs records on my iPod so I can relive my adolescence on my bus ride home. I find 80s thrash oddly soothing.

I also found a Stitches album at Amoeba for five bucks. They were a trashy Heartbreakers-inspired band who I saw in the mid-nineties opening for the Workin' Stiffs at the Purple Onion. Their friend Dusty was sitting at our table with a box of seven inches to sell. He was drinking Old English from a can, ashing into it, and then taking swigs. They were a toxic, druggy band who had a decent song or two. The album is pretty terrible.


Finally, I've been listening to a lot of 70s deejay music. I went almost all of January without listening to any reggae, but the second school started up again I started listening to reggae again. It's soothing yet a little aggro. I found a used copy of Trinity's Shanty Town Determination at Amoeba, which I'm enjoying. He sounds a lot like Big Youth, but that's not a bad thing.

Serge Severe Review

I reviewed Serge Severe's new album Back On My Rhymes this week at RapReviews. He's a Portland MC whose sound is a throwback to the days when being a rapper meant having solid microphone skills and a dedicated DJ on the decks spinning vinyl. I liked it. A lot better than Busta Rhymes 2009 album Back On My Bullshit, which I bought last month, and which I don't like at all.

Here's "Can't Stop, Won't Stop, with Braille.

Maggot Mouf

I reviewed Maggot Mouf's You're All Ears this week on RapReviews.

It's Australian horror rap, using horror imagery to talk about the drama of everyday life. Much like a Burgermeister hamburger, it's done well, but not the kind of thing I'm into.

I Just Don't Know What To Do With Myself

The White Stripes officially broke up this week. It's not surprising, and they had painted themselves into a corner, but I'm still a little sad. They haven't put out a new studio album since 2007's Icky Thump, and their last tour was canceled when their drummer Meg had a nervous breakdown. Jack White has been doing his own thing for a while now, both as a musician with the Dead Weather and Raconteurs, as a producer with Wanda Jackson, and as a label owner.

Realistically, there was nothing left for the White Stripes to do BUT break up. They formed in 1997 under a very different musical climate. The guiding philosophy was "more is more." The charts were dominated by manufactured pop and aspirational hip-hop. The rock world had deteriorated from the grunge days of the early 90s into self-indulgent emo and watered down alt rock like Nickelback. Advances in studio production and home recording capabilities meant that music was more synthesized and embellished. MTV was trying to convince us that electronica was the new rock.

Into that storm rode the White Stripes. Simply put, they peeled it the fuck down. Guitar and a not-very-good drummer. That's it. They developed a color scheme gimmick to match their stripped down sound - the band was only photographed wearing red, white, and black. Their first singles and album was noisy blues rock that hadn't quite found its way, but 2000's De Stijl, named after a Dutch minimalist art movement, hit home. The chaos and noisiness of their earlier work was gone, replaced by raw blues, Led Zepplin channeling Robert Johnson without the gongs and violin bows. Interspersed were Brit pop songs like "You're Pretty Good Looking (For A Girl)," that showed there was more to the band than Page licks and Plant yowls.



They perfected their pop licks on 2001's White Blood Cells, which contains their most perfect song, "Fell In Love With A Girl." The song, like much of the White Stripe's work, was deceptively simple, so dumb it was smart, pop music pared down to its bare essence.


In 2003 they released their most successful album, Elephant. From opening single "Seven Nation Army" it was evident that the band was reaching the end of what it could do under its original model of guitar-drums. "Seven Nation Army" featured a bass guitar, adding a new element into their mix. The album hit #6 on the Billboard charts, and went on to sell over four million copies worldwide. It also contained an amazing cover of Burt Bacharach's "I Just Don't Know What To Do With Myself." Jack White was evidently irritated with the video, directed by Sofia Coppola, in which Kate Moss writhed on a stripper's pole. He didn't see the connection. (I didn't mind.)


Something else had happened in that time period. Stripped-down indie rock had hit big. The Strokes had a hit record doing pared down Lower-East-Side junkie rock. The Shins were doing pared down West Coast rock. In the wake of the economic crash of 2000 and September 11, 2001, big dumb blingy music seemed gauche and outre. Garage rock was in.

The follow up, 2005's Get Behind Me Satan, showed that the band was getting tired of its own schtick. They continued to experiment with new sounds, and the production was fuller. Notice they've expanded their wardrobe colors as well.



2007's Icky Thump, went even further in the more is more direction. Both albums offered diminishingn returns, and the Stripes were starting to seem anachronistic. The machine they were raging against no longer existed. They had conquered the record industry, won a Grammy, and recorded about all the guitar-drum songs they could.

White started the Raconteurs, and then started the Dead Weather. Meg had a nervous breakdown and avoided the press. The record industry went down in flames. Arcade Fire, in a reaction against the navel gazing of early 2000s indie rock, went for a bigger, more ambitious sound. They won a Grammy.

I still love the early White Stripes, but I'm glad they called it quits. One thing I'm learning in my Nonprofit Administration program is you have to know when to abandon or shift your mission. Just because something was a good idea 13 years ago doesn't mean you have to keep doing it. Cheers to Meg and Jack for putting an end to it in style.

NYOIl

I reviewed a four-year-old mixtape from NYOil this week for RapReviews called 9 Wonders.  It showed up on my doorstep, so I reviewed it. I hadn't heard NYOil before, but I was into it. Sort of righteously angry ala Chuck D or KRS-One. Half the mixtape is NYOil rapping over 9th Wonder beats, the rest is outakes from his album and some exclusives. You can download it for free at DJ Trackstar's website, so go do so.

I just realized that the Carrie Brownstein in the new series Portlandia is the same Carrie Brownstein who writes for NPR's Monitor Mix and appears on All Songs Considered, red, and is also the same Carrie Brownstein who was in Sleater-Kinney. I kinda have a crush on her. Only she's gay. Which is fine, but it just makes the crush seem that much more pointless.

I've only heard Sleater-Kinney's 1997 album Dig Me Out. I liked it, but Corin Tucker's voice kinda got on my nerves, so I never invested in them after that. Somehow I downloaded "You're No Rock N'Roll Fun," which for whatever reason pops up every time I put my iPod on shuffle. I like that song. Maybe I should buy more of their albums. Carrie has a new band that is supposed to put out an album this year. Maybe I'll buy that. Maybe I'll check out Portlandia. Maybe I'll visit Portland.

What I'm Listening To

I've been on a hip-hop kick lately. Old school, to be exact. I traded in a bunch of stuff at Amoeba, and got a lot of stuff. I found Cypress Hill's debut album for cheap, so picked it up. I think Cypress Hill have about four good songs in them - after that you've heard it all. Those songs are "How I Could Just Kill A Man," "Insane In the Brain," "A to the K," and "Hand On the Pump." Muggs makes the group, creating a dusty, dirty, Bomb Squad smoking an joint laced with angel dust kinda hip-hop. I was really excited when I first got this, and then I remembered that all they rap about is smoking weed and killing people, neither of which I'm that interested in hearing about. I bought their second album Black Sunday when it came back, and then sold it back for indie rock in the late 90s.
I still love this song, with its "Duke of Earl" sample, even if they are partially to blame for Limp Bizkit.



I also got the Pharcyde's Bizarre Ride II Tha Pharcyde. Been meaning to check it out for about ten years, never got around to it. I think I woulda enjoyed this more if I bought it in 1997. It's early 90s hip-hop on a West Coast, goofy tip, similar to Black Sheep. It's a little juvenile, but I love "Ya Momma," if only for the line "ya momma gotta glass eye with a fish in it."



At the same time, I picked up El Guincho's Pop Negro. It's feelgood Spanish indie electro-pop. He has a crazy video for "Bombay." Q: What kind of bees make milk? A: Boobies!!!!



I've also been working on reviews for a mixtape by NY rapper NY Oil, an album by aussie rapper Maggot Mouf, and albums by Serge Severe Boac.

As always, more music than I can realistically process.

The Big Payback

I reviewed Dan Charnas's The Big Payback: The History of the Business of Hip-Hop this week at RapReviews. It's a great book. You should read it. Here's him explaining why he wrote it.


Remember kids: hip-hop may be made by black guys, but it's history will be told by skinny white guys. You've been told.


I also reviewed Ursula Rucker's She Said, which is the featured review at RapReviews this week.

I'm ashamed to note that I rated Waka Flocka Flame's album higher. Only because Rucker is performing in a genre (jazzy spoken word) that I'm not as familiar with or into.

Been listening to Big L's Lifestyles Ov Da Poor and Dangerous, partially inspired by The Big Payback. It's 1995 hardcore NY hip-hop. Dark and viscous as hell. Big L got gunned down in 99 or 2000. RIP.

Flockaveli

I reviewed Waka Flocka Flame's Flockaveli for RapReviews this week. I already got an email from a reader saying I scored it too high. I wrote him back saying I was all set to trash the record, but then I got into it. Flocka's lyrics are non-existent and morally bankrupt, but dammit if he can't rock a track. Maybe I just listen to too much crunchy grown-man rap, so listening to some ignit street rap is like eating an ice-cream sunday after a diet of brown rice and tofu.

One of my favorite songs is "Fuck Da Club Up." It's about getting drunk and fucking the club up.

There's a video of him playing "Hard In Da Paint" with a marching band that's pretty amazing.

It's Southern street rap but done well. It's not my favorite type of hip-hop, but sometimes those hi-hats and synths work for me. Like Big Boi's last album, which I finally caught up with. The Outkast member dropped a masterpiece of Southern Rap this year. One of my favorite tracks is "General Patton," which samples an opera chorus. Wicked.

Art

One of my new years resolutions was to see more contemporary art this year. To make good on that, I joined the Yerba Buena Center for the Arts. I went there on my birthday a few weeks ago, and saw the "Audience as Subject" exhibit, which was ok, and several video installations by Yoshua Okon. I also went to the SF MOMA to see the exhibit on wine. It was interesting (and a label my wife worked on was featured), but I couldn't help but feel that it pandered to the audience in some way. Maybe its the baggage I have from having two alcoholic parents who drank a lot of wine - I associate wine connoisseurship with an excuse for alcoholism. I also felt that the Exposed voyeur photography exhibition pandered to the audience as well - see photos of nekkid and ded people!! There were some interesting pieces, however, especially the random shots of strangers and the footage taken from security cameras. We also stopped by the Cartier-Bresson exhibit, which was packed.

As part of my resolution, I also started reading (or browsing, really) a few art blogs:
White Walls SF, which is about SF street art, ArtNowSF, and Meighan O'Toole's art blog, My Love For You.

I should also mention the Compound in Oakland, where my friend Ryan works, and the Verge Gallery in Sacto, which my friend Liv runs. Both are spaces for local artists that, in my mind, incorporate the best elements of DIY culture (as well as housing some great artists).

What interests me about art is that I don't know anything about it. It's a whole new territory to explore and learn about. Also, as much as I love music, I'm getting burnt on it as a cultural expression. Maybe I listen to too much of it, maybe there is too much of it around, maybe I'm too old to really be involved in the scene. I've been a music fanatic for thirty years. I think its time I explore other art forms as well. Plus, gallery openings tend to happen a lot earlier than concerts. We'll see where I'm at six months from now, once school and work begin kicking my ass in earnest.

Rant.

The Economist has an article in the latest issue asking why gun laws having come under closer scrutiny in the wake of the shooting in Arizona. Many commentators on the left have accused the right of stoking the flames of hate, using Sarah Palin's crosshairs map as exhibit A. The right has responded with a chorus of "that guy was crazy, he has nothing to do with us." Never mind that in July a right wing lunatic had a shootout with the cops en route to shoot up the Tides Foundation and the ACLU in San Francisco, two of Glenn Beck's favorite bad guys. And never mind that the right has stoked the fires of racist hatred and fear of the far right, using the mob mentality of groups like the Tea Party to get more republicans in office in 2010.

They are right, though, the Arizona shooter wasn't a right-winger, he was just crazy. But he was armed to the fucking teeth legally. And the response by many on the right is that we need MORE not LESS guns. There is a growing "Concealed Carry" movement in this country, which means giving people permits to carry concealed firearms. The logic goes like this: if bad guys know that normal citizens are armed, they'll be less likely to prey on them. Also, if more citizens are armed, they can respond to crimes. The first argument sounds like the argument against wearing a bike helmet: if you don't wear a helmet, cars will be more likely to steer clear of you so they don't hurt your unprotected head. Also, if you start an arms race, the bad guys will always win - they have better access to illegal shit. The second argument is madness. In one out of a million cases, some John Woo shit might go down with the good guys gunning down the bad guys. In the other 999,999 cases, innocent people are going to get shot. More people with guns means more gun violence. Instead of just being afraid of the thugs with guns, I'll have to be afraid that any jackass I bump into might pull out is their gat and start gunning. Not to mention that people might get shot for misdemeanors - a purse snatcher shot in the back by a hero with a cannon, dead for the 100 bucks he stole. I can't believe we as a nation are going to buy into this vigilante bullshit. It scares the hell out of me.

Especially since the police, who are law enforcement professionals, haven't proven themselves to be good at using their arms in many cases. They have a bad habit of gunning down unarmed black men. If we have a bunch of armed rednecks, we are going to have a lot more people of color gunned down for no reason. I'm a liberal who is for second amendment rights, but strongly, strongly against concealed carry. We are not the wild fucking west.

This is part of a larger trend that has been breaking my heart lately. America has been going through a tough time, and our reaction is to turn on one another. Politics have gotten more divisive. There is a growing libertarian movement, which is essentially "I got mine, fuck you!" (There's irony in Fox news painting George Soros as a liberal bogeyman, when they are owned by Rupert Murdoch, a foreigner who has taken control of the U.S. media and used it as a mouthpiece for his personal ideology, which happens to profit him nicely). As cities and counties and states struggle with deficits, we turn on one another, blaming each other for problems. If you can tell the character of a country by how it responds to crisis, we are failing. We are showing ourselves to be a bunch of whiney, selfish, hateful, spoiled little bitches.

This artificial red state/blue state conservative/liberal divide isn't helping. We fit our opponents into stereotypes, and then follow a knee-jerk party line based on our own hot button topics and talking points. If you look at the conservative view of liberals, it doesn't reflect what liberals actually believe, and I'm sure the same goes for how liberals view conservatives. Our political ideologies become like sports teams, things we identify with and get passionate about just so we can feel like we belong to something. Not that there are serious differences between the two ideologies. But we need to find common ground so that we can start to find solutions to the problems facing us, rather than the pissing contest that politics has become. One side takes power, enacts a bunch of laws that reflect their ideology, and the other side tries to undo them. How the hell is that helping anything?


Hopefully I'm wrong. Maybe I should just forget about it. After all, losing sleep over the state of the world isn't helping me any, and it isn't helping the state of the world much.

So I'll stop ranting, and stop ruining my beautiful saturday morning by being pissed off about things I have no control over. Gah.

WITCH and Silversmiths Reviews

I reviewed WITCH's Lazy Bones!! this week on RapReviews.com. Zambian acid rock from the seventies. I think it's awesome, my wife thinks it's terrible. This video for "Strange Dreams" gives you a taste of their charms. 

I also reviewed The Algol Paradox by the Silversmiths.  You can listen to it and download it on their website.

My Thirteen Favorite Songs of 2010

I've always been someone who loved albums more than songs, but this year I came to realize that with all the music out there, sometimes all you can spare an artist is a song. Plus, history is full of artists who had one powerful hit but not much else in their repertoire. Sometimes, one good song is enough.

13. "Dancing On My Own," Robyn. I'm biting this from other critics, namely Said the Gramaphone. I don't listen to dance pop, but everyone raved about this so much that I finally gave it a listen. This is dance music done right, without any braindead lyrics.

12. "I Learned the Hard Way," Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings. Sharon Jones proving retro soul ain't played out.

11. "Rill Rill," Sleigh Bells. This album was overblown, overhyped, and one idea run into the ground. It had it's moments, though, not the least this song, which tones down their sound and samples Funkadelic. As always with the Sleigh Bells, you have to see them live to really enjoy their, um, best asset.

10. "Baby (El-P Death Mix)," Justin Bieber. I don't have a young daughter, so I don't know anything about Justin Bieber except he seems nice enough and has some great lesbian hair (and I mean that with all respect to both Mr. Bieber and lesbians). El-P's mix of "Baby" manages to incorporate Lil Jon, Wings, and Sam Kinison. So good.

9. "I'm New Here," Gil Scott-Heron. Gil Scott-Heron's voice and career have been ravaged by his addiction to crack cocaine, and his album this year was too short and to sporadic. It's high points made it all worth while, like on this haunting track. Jaime from the xx is remixing the album, which I'm really looking forward to.


8. "Islands," Shakira. Speaking of the xx, Shakira's cover of their brilliant "Islands" was one of my favorite songs. While I respect Shakira, I'm not a fan, but her dance pop take on this song is wonderful (and more fun than the xx's own version).


7.  "I Don't Belong," OFF! I'm on the wrong side of thirty now, and I don't listen to much hardcore anymore. "I Don't Belong" is the perfect answer to the ridiculous political climate we are living in, a minute-long blast telling politicians, and Republicans specifically, to fuck off.

6. "U Don't Like Me,"Lil John with Diplo. Mean spirited, annoying, and brilliant.



5. "I Was Denied," Thee Oh Sees. While I liked the album this was on, Warm Slime, Thee Oh See's sound doesn't change too much: muddy guitars, reverbed vocals, nightmarish surf music. "I Was Denied" captures everything they do great into one blast.

4. "Idiot," Wavves. While the Wavves frontman is an obnoxious, whiney little druggie, I dig his music. Idiot was my favorite song on the strong King of the Beach.


3. "How I Got Over," The Roots. Try as I might, I can't get into the Roots. I want to like them, but they bore me. However, they always have one or two great tracks on each album, and the title track for their latest was excellent. It captured the heartbreak and struggle of life in the streets. "Out on the streets where I grew up, first thing they teach you is not to give a fuck, that kind of thinking will get you nowhere, someone has to care." Word.


2. "Crazy For You," Best Coast. I liked this album mostly because of perfect pop songs like this one.
 
1. "Coroner's Music," Guilty Simpson. I've already written about this, but it is hands-down my favorite song of the year. Guilty is at his grimey best and Madlib provides some sinister zombie funk for him to lay down his homicidal rhymes. Hip hop at its finest.