What I'm digging: Broken Water

Speaking of shoegaze, there is a newish band from Olympia that have a new take on the shoegaze sound, Broken Water. Or maybe not so new since they basically sound like they could have put this out in 1993. And the video totally reminds me of my days hanging out in SF and Sacramento in the mid-90s, being poor, playing music, going to shows, wearing thrift store clothes.......

Anyways, I'm into it.

You're Breaking My Heart: "Last Good Sleep"

You're Breaking My Heart highlights songs that make me want to cry.

I go through periods of feeling fed up with rap music. I feel like I am too old, too white, too straight to be listening to it. What the fuck does my life have to do kids bragging about getting wasted, having sex, partying, selling drugs, and/or shooting people?

And then I'll hear a song that reminds me what I love about the music in the first place, namely the way it gives a voice to populations that don't often have a voice, and the way it lends itself to more thorough examinations of issues. Rock songs can be meaningful too, but a rap song will often have two or three times the number of words per song - a rapper can say more than a singer.

Which brings me to "Last Good Sleep," the 1997 song by Company Flow. Company Flow were a Brooklyn trio who were basically trying to make hip-hop like EPMD in an era where rap was first trying to go pop in a big way. CoFlo were part of the true school revival of the late 90s, artists who wanted to make the kind of hip-hop that got them excited about the genre in the first place. Up to "Last Good Sleep," their songs had been your typical rap songs about being the baddest MC etc.  And then El-P decided to write a song about his abusive stepfather.

The song is told from his perspective, and describes the night his stepfather nearly beat his mother to death. The song describes El-P's feelings of guilt, horror, regret, and remorse at not doing more to stop the abuse. That is a heavy, heavy trip to lay on a little kid.

I cannot listen to this song without tearing up. It's one of the saddest songs I know, because it deals so honestly with pain.

He describes waking up and hearing them having the usual argument they had when the stepfather was drunk:

Timepiece must've read early morning at least
So I lay deaths cousin, woken by the sonics of the beast
That somewhere deep beneath me a fracture had seized at my neck
Breath was it, a flag that marked the end of my peace

Conference of the birds I heard my mother dove cry
Not absurd just routine I'd learned

Just keep my fucking grill locked and hope the entropy stops me process
Stepfathers got to fight verbally when his livers soaked
And products come in bottles stuck with drunken last nerve up too close

But I couldn't sense the distinction from the other nights livest wires
Ceremony's sparked again a dry one in comparison to this one
Handing crutches to my psyche, I was tripping
Huddled up clutching sis I think I heard a dress ripping

He then starts to second guess his inaction, reliving the moment and asking himself why he didn't step in when he realized how bad it was:

(I should've reacted to that)
But I didn't know the extent, please
(You could've caught him in time)
Yeah, that thoughts occurred to me constantly
Now I've been digging my head and I don't know what he wants
From me until one of us is dead I suppose

That's why at night I cover my ears in tears
The man downstairs must have had too many beers
Now every night of my life he beats his wife
(Until the day I die)

He goes on to talk about how he that was the last night he slept without having nightmares about the abuse:

And slept my last sleep while I counted clone sheep
And dreamt about nothing for the last time ever

The ignorance was blissful just a recollection
Of the gift of innocent times from a merciful deception
Woke to hazy landscapes to find my world
Defied the laws my mind mandates
Patching jugulars with Band-Aids

The turn on you laid well above my bed
Were here and only barely through the shock
Of what her broken face told me

Again, he excoriates himself for not doing more to stop the abuse:

(You should have known what happened)
I was young and oblivious, 

(he almost killed your mom)

If I knew I could have done something
(You'll never see him again)

And here is the fucking kicker:

Yeah, but I see him every night
And cover my ears in tears as he beats his fucking wife

I've never been in an abusive relationship, or had an abusive parent, but I can only imagine the pain and shame and sense of powerlessness. Hip-hop is all about bragging and boasting (including about beating up girlfriends, but that's another issue), so the fact that a hip-hop song would describe domestic abuse so clearly, and with so much vulnerableness, is truly remarkable. It's one of my favorite songs, and a song that always breaks my heart.

Quiet

I used to think ambient music was mostly good as music for studying, falling asleep, making out, or coming down off of drugs.* I listened to some, especially Aphex Twin's Selected Ambient Works Vol. 2 (which is disturbing enough to be a problematic soundtrack to studying, falling asleep, making out, or coming down off of drugs).

When I had a child, I all of a sudden needed ambient music in my life in a way I hadn't before. I needed quiet. I needed prettiness. I needed to not think, to shut out stimulus. I've come to appreciate the power of quiet.

I've gotten into Zen Buddhism and the idea of using meditation and quiet as an antidote to and a way to better understand our noisy lives. I won't go into a long spiritual/religious discourse here, but I think the little bit of meditation I've done over the past year and the extensive reading on Buddhism and Zen Buddhism especially I've done over the past four years has made a noticeable difference in my life. I try to sit every day but usually for ten minutes and never longer than fifteen. Still, I come to crave that time in the same way you come to crave exercise if you get into the practice of it. I crave that quiet.

I started meditating in earnest when I was going through a stressful period in life. Some challenges at work taking up a lot of my time and energy, and on top of that I had a one-year-old who was radically altering how I lived my life, related to the world, and saw myself.  I'd come home with so much spinning through my head that the only cure for it I could find was to sit quietly for a few minutes trying (unsuccessfully) to not think of anything.

Our world is so noisy. We are constantly taking information in. We rarely get a chance to reflect on what is real and true and what is just sound and fury. Meditating, for me, is a way to shut out all the noise and stop seeing myself through a filter of whatever bullshit has piled on that day/week/year/lifetime. It's a chance to experience life as it is for just a few minutes, without the constant stimulus.

In the same way, ambient music is sometimes a necessary salve for a chaotic and noisy life. I have several ambient albums that I listen to that provide some peace and solace and space to think. Where as a young person I'd listen to ambient to relax and chill out, as it were, in my middle age I'm listening to it to not think.

*Not that I know from experience, never having been one for any drug other than alcohol and coffee, but the proliferation of ambient "chillout" music coincided with the increased usage of ecstasy, cocaine, and other mind-altering substances in 90s electronic music culture.

Deep Thoughts on the new Kendrick and Record Store Day

Yesterday was Record Store Day. My daughter and I went to Down Home Music in El Cerrito to watch a bluegrass band. I didn't buy anything, although I have bought a few albums recently. I got the new Kendrick Lamar album, PM Dawn's first album (for a review), and a collection of Donald Byrd's albums from the late 50s and early 60s. My disc drive is shot, so I can't burn CDs anymore, which makes them less of an exciting purchase. I still like having physical copies of some stuff, and CDs are cheaper and smaller than vinyl.

I appreciate what Record Store Day is trying to do, but I dislike the jibber-jabber of it. I'm not interested in the gimmicky collector's items that only exist to separate you from your money. I don't need a pressing of Dilla's "Fuck the Police" in the shape of a cop badge.

But Kendrick's album seemed like the kind of thing I should own (even if the cover strikes me as being racist)(and by racist I mean anti-black). I love it, but dude, there are so many swears. Could he have not had every word be the n word? Maybe? No? Ok.

Deep Thoughts on Shoegaze

I love bands that have a shoegaze influence. Generally when people say "shoegaze," they mean atmospheric, heavily distorted guitar textures like those in My Bloody Valentine's classic 1990 album Loveless.

"Only Shallow" is a good encapsulation of their sound. There are heavy drums, swirling guitars, and all of it washed through layers of filters and effects. When people use the term "shoegaze" in reference to a band, it is that guitar sound that they are trying to describe.




I'm actually not much of a fan of most of the other bands that were affiliated with the first wave of shoegaze - Slowdive, Ride, Lush, Swervedriver, etc. I haven't listened to enough Swervedriver or Ride to make an informed opinion, but to my mind Slowdive and Lush were too slight and poppy. What made My Bloody Valentine exciting was the heaviness to the music. It hit hard and had a solid bottom. They expertly combined the pretty with the dissonant. Sonic Youth were obviously a big influence on My Bloody Valentine, especially on MBV's precursor to Loveless, Isn't Anything. Sonic Youth pioneered using guitars as textures vs. strictly for riffs and melodies.  In a lot of ways, it's an evolution of punk's reliance on distortion.

Loveless may have bankrupted MBV's label and broke up the band, but it has inspired generations of musicians. Immediately after its release bands from the Smashing Pumpkins to Superchunk incorporated the guitar textures of MBV into their music. As a generation of kids came up listening to that album, they started making music with those sounds as well.

One of my favorite shoegaze-influenced albums is ...And You Will Know Us By the Trail of Dead's Source Tags and Codes.



Deerhunter are another band use the wall of guitar to good effect:



Metal bands were influenced by MBV as well. Deftones' 2003 self-titled album has a huge shoegaze influence, which contributed to the pretty but formless shape of that album.


Fucked Up also combine the shoegaze guitar swirls and prettiness with the ugliness and brutality of Damien Abraham's vocals. The Chemistry of Common Life is one of my favorite albums of the this century, and it's largely the multi-guitar squall of songs like "Days of Last" that make it such a powerful album:






Tombs' early stuff aslo has a strong shoegaze influence, like "Gossamer."



There's a whole subgenre of black metal called "Blackgaze" which combines black metal and shoegaze. Most of what I've heard lumped in that category sucks, to be perfectly frank. There's a cheesiness that I've never associated with shoegaze in Alcest, say. Some of it is interesting. Blut Aus Nord have made several shoegaze-influenced albums. Those elements mix uncomfortably with the evil vocals and metallic guitars that are Blut Aus Nord's trademark, but it still works. Deafheaven are perhaps the most famous and successful band to combine black metal and shoegaze. Part of what makes a song like "Dream House" so powerful is its mix of swirling guitars, blast beats, and screeched vocals. It's heavy but pretty at the same time.




Bosse-de-Nage are another Bay Area metal band who have a heavy shoegaze influence. They just released their fourth album, called All Fours. I don't totally get why they are classified as being black metal; to me they sound like post-hardcore, something that might be on Ebullition circa 1998. Again, they have prettiness that tempers the ugliness and brutality of their vocals. They also seem to come from more of a punk perspective musically, at least in the tone of their guitars and the singer's voice. All of which makes for a sound that I really like. I've been listening to  "untitled" from their first album on repeat:

You’re Breaking My Heart: “One More Hour”

You’re Breaking My Heart highlights songs that make me want to cry.

Break-ups suck. Every single break-up I’ve ever gone through has left massive scars, even though no one really did anything terrible to me like sleep with my best friend or whatever. In fact, I probably got what I had coming to me in most cases. Still, I was single for years because I couldn’t stand the thought of someone breaking my heart again. 

So imagine if you had just broke up with your girlfriend, and you had to play in a band with her every night? And imagine you wrote a song about how much the break-up sucked, and you had to sing it with her every night? Well, that’s what happened to Corin Tucker of Sleater-Kinney. Her and bandmate Carrie Brownstein dated, broke up, and wrote a gut-wrenching song about it that is one of their best.

The song captures the feeling of loss and squandered potential of a relationship that ends. That is what has always hurt the most when I’ve had a breakup - I felt like I was building something with someone and then it just goes to shit, and all the effort I’ve put into it was wasted. That and how much the pain lingers, even when you want all those emotions to go away. You’d think that someone telling you they are no longer into you would trigger your brain to stop being attracted to them, but no. So you end up with heartache AND longing. 

That comes through in the Tucker’s singing. The song starts with her spending on last hour in a room they shared, looking at her dresses and reminiscing. “Oh you’ve got the darkest eyes,” Tucker sings, still pining after the woman that broke her heart. Brownstein responds to her in the chorus. “I need this!” Tucker wails, while Brownstein responds, “I know it’s so hard for you to let it go/I know it is so hard for you to say goodbye/I know you just need a little more time.” 

The song ends with Tucker pleading “Don’t say another word/about the other girl.” It’s unclear whether it was Tucker or Brownstein who was unfaithful, but it is clear that Tucker did not want the relationship to end, and is having a hard time getting over it. “One More Hour” perfectly captures mess of emotions that comes with a broken heart, but without being whiney or self-pitying. It's angry, it's passionate, it's sad, it's nostalgic, and it's full of genuine emotion.

The songs is also notable because it is about a lesbian relationship, and their first no less. There are very few songs that I'm aware of that deal specifically with gay relationships, much less lesbian ones. There's a sense of betrayal in the song that I think is probably something you wouldn't necessarily hear from a woman complaining about a man who left her (or vice versa). Maybe I'm reading too much into it, but I sense that the fact that it is one of her own (by which I mean a fellow woman, a fellow riot grrrl, a fellow bandmate) that is betraying her adds to the pain. You date a woman and then realize that they can fuck you over in just the same way any boy could.

Anyways, it is an amazing, heartbreaking song, and one that hasn't lost it's power to make me want to weep like a baby nearly 18 years later.

Earl Sweatshirt Review

Earl Sweatshirt
I Don't Like Shit, I Don't Go Outside
Columbia, 2015

Originally posted on RapReviews

Anyone who has spent a lot of time partying knows that, as much fun as it is, it is not a sustainable lifestyle. It can also be incredibly lonely. There are exceptions, but in general getting wasted with people isn't a path to lasting friendships. Drinking and drug buddies have a tendency to disappear when the booze and drugs are gone. There is also something incredibly depressing about living what is supposed to be the high life, and realizing how empty and unsatisfying it is. Ask 20-year-old rapper Earl Sweatshirt.

The success and hype that Earl has experienced since his Odd Future crew took off and his debut album Doris was released has weighed on him. He spent the last three years partying too hard and not taking care of himself physically or emotionally, losing fifty pounds from not eating. He got his heart broken by so-called friends and girlfriends. He documents his experiences and subsequent disillusionment on his latest album, I Don't Like Shit, I Don't Go Outside.

Despite it's depressing title and heavy subject matter, I Don't Like Shit is actually a more upbeat album than "Doris." Earl sounds more confident than on his previous release, even when he is rapping about the pitfalls of fame, his troubled upbringing, and his problems with women. The confidence shows in several ways. For one, there are less features on the album, as if Earl doesn't feel he needs to hide behind other MCs. Also, his rapping is more energized than on Doris. He doesn't sound like a bedridden depressive. On album opener "Huey," he even seems like he's having a good time:

"Critics pretend to get it and bitches just don't fuck with him
I spent the day drinking and missing my grandmother
Just grab a glass and pour some cold white wine in it
A Colt 45 in it, you know how I get it
I'm toasting myself and a toast to all my n----s
And there ain't no time limit, I'm toasted as hell
And I gotta jot it quick cause I can't focus so well"

"Good grief, I've been reaping what I sowed," Earl raps on "Grief." There's a lot of talk on this album about betrayal, and betrayal by women in particular. At times Earl approaches early Snoop levels of misogynistic paranoia. As he raps on "Off Top," "What's your motive, ho? I only trust a bitch as far as I can throw 'em." What makes Earl's women problems interesting is the level of genuine hurt he displays, and the fact that he owns that he is part of the problem. On "Mantra" he admits that to some level he's to blame for his relationship problems:

"You used to say you like violins and your lifestyle depend on me
And I know it's night time when you get lonely
And tell all your little friends how that b--h stole me
And despite all of the facts that you got phony
You gonna tell them about the night that you exposed me
For the bastard I was
And how I probably smashed every b--h that I passed in the club
And the last couple months was the worst
Cause I smashed all the trust
That I earned in the past couple months
That we had as a couple
My absence of fucks
Was a problem that we ain't ever really get to solve
We just smashed and we scuffled
Trying to keep it calm but I snap at you
Now you're taking all your property back and it's obvious that
That apart from the fact that we fuck and it's bomb
And I hate when you home
And when I'm gone I don't call cause you nag
Man, I brought you some shit
And I bought you some shit
What you offering here?
What the fuck you offering here?"

As on Doris, Earl deals with some heavy shit: his troubled upbringing, his strained relationship with his mother and grandmother, where he belongs both on earth and in hip-hop. On "Faucet" he raps:

"And I don't know who house to call home lately
I hope my phone break, let it ring
Toe to toe with the foes, new and old
Basic hoes try to cage him like the po'
When I run, don't chase me"

The album is produced by Earl as RandomBlackDude, whose beats lean more towards trippy than banging. There are big, echoing drums, hints of melody, and lots of space for Earl's raps. Some tracks go for light funk reminiscent of DOOM, while album highlight "Grief" sounds like it samples William Basinki's "Disintegration Loops." There is nothing on here that is going to be played at a club, but it is consistently interesting.

There are two negatives about I Don't Like Shit, only two of which Earl had much control over. For one thing, it's short, barely clocking in at 30 minutes. The upside is that it is tight and there is zero filler, but it feels a little incomplete. Secondly, his low-key style makes this a hard album to get really excited about. He's more energized here than on Doris, but it is still a downer of a record. Vince Staples guest spot on album closer "Wool" makes this all the more obvious. Staples has a charisma and punch that Earl lacks. That's not to knock Earl as a rapper, but he does make music that is best suited for a certain mood.

Even with those criticisms, this is an excellent album. Odd Future have always been much deeper than their deliberately offensive lyrics and Jackass antics let on. Underneath the sick senses of humor were kids dealing with some serious issues. I Don't Like Shit, I Don't Go Outside sees Earl continuing to mature and grow as an artist. It's nice to see him living up to the promise of his early releases, and making music that is so brutally honest.

What I'm listening to

I have been listening to three very divergent albums lately.

The first is Krieg's Transient. It's a blast of hardcore-infused black metal that has a satisfying heaviness. 

The second is the new Ear Sweatshirt album, I Don't Do Shit, I Don't Go Outside. It's ten songs of depression rap that I am really digging.

The third is the Sound of Music soundtrack. I love this musical, and it gives me so much joy to be able to share it with my daughter. We sing "Do Re Mi" on the way home from preschool, and then dance around the house singing it. I feel very lucky to be able to share all these wonderful things that I grew up with with my daughter. 

To recap, black metal, rap music, and Julie Andrews. Fuck yeah.

Giano Review

I reviewed Giano's new instrumental album this week at RapReviews.

On being offended

I was out of town last week and away from my computer and actually interacting with real live humans instead of being in front of a screen. It was exhausting. It was very refreshing getting out of my online rut, and taking a step back from the barrage of internet ire that I willfully submerge myself into on a daily basis. I learned that I was happier when I wasn't busy getting angry over stupid shit. I think I might continue that trend.

When I was in high school the group of friends I hung out with started to be a drag. Everything was based on making fun of one another, calling each other faggots, and being self-conscious pricks. I didn't like it so I stopped hanging out with them. It was lonely for a while, but in the end I was happier. And so I think it will go with the internet.

Anyways.

I saw a good post on Renegade Mother about the culture of being offended on the internet.

Here are some quotes:

"You announce that on a website or comment thread (or to a live human being) as if it means something, as if it’s some grand proclamation with relevance and importance, but all you’re really saying is this: 'I don’t know you and you don’t know me, and we’ve had two totally different lives, but your existence is not validating mine, and that makes me sad, and therefore you should stop doing what you’re doing.'"

...

But simply proclaiming 'You offend me!' is about the most useless, narcissistic, entitled and meaningless statement ever.

...

Am I so important that the world should bow and shift and change because my inner self is wounded?"

What she said.

What I'm Digging: Usnea

Usnea are a Portland doom band who make music that is loud, heavy, and slow. The vocals alternate between screeching and growling, and they are unable to write songs under ten minutes long. Their second full-length Random Cosmic Violence came out last year, and I've been listening to it a lot.
I love the low-ends of doom, and how they use space to make their music hit even harder. They are playing in San Francisco soon, but sadly I have a work dinner the same even so I can't go. The problems of being grown up.

Tree and Ghostface

I reviewed two albums recently.

Chicago rapper Tree's newest mixtape, Trap Genius, is a nice take on trap music.

Ghostface's Sour Soul is a not totally successful collaboration with BadBadNotGood.

On the Margins

One of the things that stuck out to me from reading Dayal Patterson's excellent Black Metal: Evolution of a Cult was how much of the development of black metal in the early 1990s was driven by the relative mainstream success of death metal a little earlier. Many of those interviews by Patterson noted that they were reacting to death metal, and how trendy and homogenized it had become.

The same thing happened with punk in the same time period. Until 1990, punk was almost the sole property of the underground. You could know you had a kinship with someone just from the fact that they were wearing a punk shirt or had a pin on their jacket. Much of my identity at 14 and 15 was built around the fact that I liked this music, and the squares didn't like it. And then Nirvana blew up and the same jocks and preppies I despised started listening to the music I loved. It was very disorienting.

When Green Day got big in 1994, it drove me to listen to less accessible forms of punk. Part of this was that, in the post Green Day pop-punk explosion, most of the music was terrible and the good parts of the scene were being having the life sucked out of them due to overexposure. Green Day were amazing in part because they were snotty kids singing about girls. They were "our" thing. Then they became everyone's thing, and they were no longer special. Their label started ruthlessly pimping poppy, accessible groups that they thought they could cash in on, and money made the whole thing stupid.

The punk scene didn't handle this gracefully. Bands that signed to major labels were labeled sellouts, and criticized if they charged too much for shows or merch. The irony of a kid who was on his parents' dole criticizing a grown up for trying to make something of a living with their art was lost on everyone. Jello Biafra got beat up at Gilman Street for being a sellout by a punk who was a zygote when Jello was in the Dead Kennedys. Suddenly it wasn't punk to be into Green Day or other pop punk bands. You had to be into more obscure stuff. Stuff that the cheerleaders at your high school would hate.

So punk got more extreme. If the squares are listening to punk rock, the punks are going to listen to hardcore. If the squares start digging some hardcore, then the punks are going to listen to power violence grindcore and other types extreme music. Because the worst thing to happen to someone who has spent their whole life as part of a marginalized group is to suddenly be accepted.

When I saw my first Gay Shame poster in the late 1990s, I recognized some of the same motivators of the radicalization of punk in Gay Shame. Gay Shame was (and still is, I think) a reaction to the homogenization and mainstreamization of queer culture. They were pissed that corporations were sponsoring Gay Pride, they were pissed that the defacto queer culture was white and wealthy and "safe," and they wanted to make being gay dangerous again. Or in their words:

We will not be satisfied with a commercialized gay identity that denies the intrinsic links between queer struggle and challenging power. We seek nothing less than a new queer activism that foregrounds race, class, gender and sexuality, to counter the self-serving “values” of gay consumerism and the increasingly hypocritical left. We are dedicated to fighting the rabid assimilationist monster with a devastating mobilization of queer brilliance.

I see this tendency among some members of marginalized groups to radicalize as they become more accepted by the mainstream over and over again. I think there are a few reasons for this:

1. As some part of a group gets accepted by the mainstream, there is a tendency to push for further acceptance of other aspects or parts of the group.
2. The process of mainstream acceptance leaves the group feeling misinterpreted, or leaves out members of the group who don’t conform to the version the mainstream has accepted.
3. People’s identities are so defined by being marginalized that being accepted is a threat to their concept of who they are, and they have to push harder to continue to be on the fringe.

I understand this push towards radicalization and resistance in the face of mainstream acceptance/co-option. I think it is often good and necessary. However, there is an element of self-marginilization and us vs. them that I find troubling, and a tendency to continuously move goal posts that I find exhausting. Whenever I hear from the more radical elements of a marginalized culture criticizing either the more centrist elements or how the mainstream has accepted them, I think of a nineteen year old punk kid saying "Green Day are sellouts."

Sicko Mobb Review

I reviewed Sicko Mobb's 2014 mixtape Super Saiyan Vol 1 this week at RapReviews.

One of the things I've always loved about hip-hop is the way it gives kids who society has completely written off an outlet for expression and (hopefully) financial success. Sicko Mobb are a prime example of this.

Chief Keef, SZA, and Mike Will Made It Reviews

I reviewed Chief Keef's latest mixtape for RapReviews this week.

I also reviewed Mike Will Made It's mixtape "Ransom." 

Oh, and SZA's "Z."

Policing the Policers

I wrote a long post that I deleted because it was dumb and ranty. The main issue and something I've been struggling with, philosophically: occasions where progressives act just as self-righteous, one-sided, and shitty as the right-wingers they claim to hate. I don't mean this in a "reverse racism*" or "Liberals are intolerant of intolerance!!!" kind of way. I mean it in a "two wrongs don't make a right" and a "being a dick to dicks still makes you a dick" kind of way. 

It's the way the same shitty "Us vs. them" mentality is used by the oppressed on the oppressors. (Brad Warner at Hardcore Zen had a good post on this in the wake of the Ferguson protests. To quote him:" It’s “us” who understand white privilege and know all about subtle racism, against “them” who say racism is a thing of the past and tell others they “don’t see race.” We write insulting Facebook status updates and articles chastising those who don’t share our more enlightened views. Instead of appealing to the people who need to hear this stuff the most, it alienates them, drives them away, makes them defensive and angry." My response was: "I’m not going to deny that there is deep seated racism and classism in the U.S., and that the legacy of that racism manifests itself in many ways in our society. However, what is the end game? How do we move forward? What I hear from the more radicalized people of color is just another version of what the more racist white people are saying: this isn’t your land, you people don’t belong here, you people are all the same and all responsible for the actions of anyone with your skin color, and everything you do is inherently suspect and deserving of derision. On the other end you have white liberals trying to outdo themselves by showing how PC they are by calling everyone who isn’t as enlightened as they are racists. It never gets beyond “us vs. them” tribal thinking, defining oneself by what one is not. If “us vs. them” thinking is what got us into this mess, than more “us vs. them” thinking isn’t going to get us out of it."

The elitist focus on language, and maintaing a constantly changing script of correct ways to talk about people, and shaming those who are using an outdated script, as if you can't express racist ideas using politically correct terms. (The Left's focus on language as the driver of action makes me nuts. I'm not saying we shouldn't adjust language and remove racist or outdated language from our lexicon, but the assumption that using the wrong term to describe someone automatically makes you racist is wrongheaded. My anecdotal proof of this is that in the twenty-odd years since politically correct language became such a focus for progressives, racism hasn't gone away. Politically correct language hasn't stopped a rollback of voting rights for people of color, it hasn't prevented the explosion of the prison industrial complex, it hasn't ended racism. It has just made us talk about it in coded language.)

I get upset about this stuff because I  can't bear to  even read Breitbart.com or any of the conservative rags, and yet when I go to progressive blogs I see some of the same bullshit in different ideological wrapping. Real progress means changing the way we think about and behave towards one another, not just being an asshole back to the assholes.

*My thought on reverse racism is this: if normal ol' racism is a busted sewage pipe that is flooding the street with shit, reverse racism is a weakness in a pipe further up the line that is starting to show signs of strains and has a very slow leak of fresh water. People crying "reverse racism" are essentially saying, "Forget about the shit spewing out into the street, what are we going to do about this leaky pipe?" 

Technical Difficulties

I've been having recurring tinnitus for the past month or so. It could be related to sinuses, and is almost certainly related to listening to music on headphones on my commute, especially given my newfound love of metal. To try to stop my ears from constantly ringing and there being a metallic sound in my head all the time, I've stopped listening to headphones except a little at work when I have good headphones. Which means I've cut two hours of music-listening out of my day. This has been compounded by the fact that I'm having technical difficulties which makes it hard to synch my iPod or rip CDs, which means no new music for the near future. The short end of it is that now I maybe listen to music for a half hour or an hour at work, and then I'll listen to some jazz or kids music in the background in the mornings and evenings. That's a huge contrast to how much I used to listen to music.

It is a little like realizing that I no longer have the time to read anymore. I stopped reading non-school stuff when I was in school, and it was such a sad realization to make that I didn't have time to read any of the books I wanted. Now I have all these albums I want to listen to but I don't have time. Growing up is lame sometimes.

Nick Weaver review

I reviewed Nick Weaver's "Yardword" EP a few weeks ago at RapReviews.

Andy Stott Review

Originally posted on RapReviews

And Stott

Faith In Strangers

Modern Love, 2014

“Faith in Strangers” is Andy Stott’s second album of 2014. He released “Drop the Vowels” earlier in the year as one-half of Millie and Andrea. His solo album balances the hard-hitting cacophony of “Drop the Vowels,” with the soothing dub of his 2012 album “Luxury Problems.” it manages to be the best of both worlds, offering both beats and more introspective sounds.

Album opener “Time Away” starts things off slowly with what sounds like a foghorn eventually melting into a wall of ambient swells. “Violence” also starts slowly, with just a synthesizer and a woman’s voice (Allison Skidmore, who was also featured on “Luxury Problems”). Her singing is plaintive but muffled, processed so that it is impossible to make out any words. Drums finally kick in around the three-minute mark, and this is where the song, and the album, really takes off. There are crushing 808s and distorted snares and synths, all slightly off beat. It’s an odd combination of beautiful, banging, and disquieting. It sounds like a fever dream version of trap music.

The mixture of gorgeous vocals, synthesizers, thundering bass, and distortion appears throughout the album. “On Oath” and “Science and Industry” use those elements over a skeleton of minimalist techno. “No Surrender” and “Damage” combine them with drum ‘n bass. “How It Was” applies them to house music. It’s never glitchy or harsh enough to make it difficult to listen to, but it constantly keeps you on your toes. There are two weaknesses that electronic music can fall prey to: it can be too repetitive and predictable, and it can lack any real low ends. Stott solves both problems by keeping his songs off kilter, and backing them with heavy beats.

The title track mixes things up by being less dissonant and more straightforward. I had assumed that the title of the album, “Faith in Strangers,” was meant to be ironic. I was surprised by the sense of hope and optimism in the title track, especially after the darker moments on the rest of the album. “Damage” and “Violence” live up to their namesakes, although even at its noisiest, “Faith in Strangers” can still be beautiful.

The album ends with “Missing,” which like “Time Away” is mostly ambient. It’s an ambiguous way to end things, and it doesn’t tie the album together or make a statement the way some of the other tracks do. Stott seems to be intent on challenging the listener and distancing himself from the dancefloor as much as possible. It may not get him gigs playing stadiums, but its what makes his music special. There are no phony builds, no bass dropping, no obvious patterns. “Faith in Strangers” keeps listeners on their toes, and keeps their head nodding the whole time.

Serengeti Review

Originally posted on RapReviews

Kenny Dennis III" marks the third time that Serengeti's mustachioed character Kenny Dennis has been given his own project. He has a long and storied fictional history. He started out in Tha Grimm Teachaz alongside PMDF and DJ Koufie. They were signed to Jive, and were supposed to release their debut, "There's A Situation On the Homefront," before an altercation with Shaq at a live event caused their label to shelve the album. He's released an EP and a 2013 album, and has been featured on other Serengeti projects. 

"Kenny Dennis III" is a concept album with storyline about Kenny hooking up with his friend Ders (played by Anders Holm) to tour malls with a 90s high-energy hip-house group called Perfecto. The story is pure hip-hop Spinal Tap, the flailing has-been grinding through the most depressing tour imaginable while refusing to acknowledge that he isn't a superstar. He's also battling a pill addiction, egged on by his new friend Joji.

As Kenny, Serengeti raps in a gruff "Joey from the old neighborhood" kind of voice about absurdities. "Hot dogs for lunch/Hot dogs for dinner/I don't eat breakfast/I am no beginner" he raps on album opener "No Beginner." There's a Madvillain vibe to the album, especially in the way that Odd Nosdam's dusty breaks compliment Kenny's bizarre rapping. I only knew Nosdam from his anticon. days, and I didn't expect such straighforward crate-digging from him. He samples old soul and surf rock, throwing in some of the art-damaged weirdness that anticon was best known for. Nosdam's beats ground the album, making it groove even when it devolves into nonsense.

The character of Kenny is funny, but not funny enough to carry an entire album. Serengeti may have known this, which might explain why Kenny only raps on ten of the 19 tracks. Still, even ten tracks is more Kenny than I needed. It's like one of those Saturday Night Live movies that tries to stretch a three-minute sketch into a 90 minute movie. Also, the character of Kenny isn't so much funny as he's weird and annoying, which makes it even less fun to spend an entire album with him.

Anders Holm's sketches as Ders are what really end up making "Kenny Dennis III." Where Kenny is a big character, Ders is more understated. Ders is an aspiring actor who is beaten out of a Different Strokes reboot by a funnier, more attractive actor. He fully embraces their 90s throwback rap, starts wearing nothing but mall clothes, and even gets into parkour when Perfecto flames out. He catches the optimism and ego and tragedy of being an artist on the margins. I found myself listening the skits that Ders was on more than the actual songs on the album because they are so funny. 

I can see how Kenny could appeal to listeners. There is a DOOM-like quality to his absurd-yet-smart style of rapping, and nobody could argue that Serengeti isn't committing to the character 100 percent. I didn't find him funny, nor did I find his rapping appealing from an aesthetic standpoint. As a result, I was more into "Kenny Dennis III" for the skits and beats than for anything that Kenny had to say.