Heeeere's Yanni!: Investigating One of Pop Culture's Strangest Phenomenons

Whether it's Michael Bay movies or the Black Eyed Peas, there's a lot of very popular stuff out there that I'm not on board with. Whenever something gets sufficiently popular, however, I try and take my time to at least figure out why it's so popular, even if I have no actual interest in the item itself. Call it a morbid curiosity. Maybe I'm just trying to find ways to justify the awful taste in everything that Americans have proved to have time and time again.

But even when I find a piece of culture abysmally bad, I can almost always understand why other people enjoy it. Take the Twilight phenomenon - I have little to no interest in it, but I can easily see why teenage girls are really into the Edward/Jacob debate. I don't have a problem with it; it's just not for me (though I do align myself with Team Jacob).

Every so often, though, something becomes massively popular that just befuddles me. This is not to say said popular item is good or bad; it just means that I can't figure out why it appeals to large groups of people. Maybe it's the general feeling that I'm missing something or I'm out of the loop, but it drives me nuts.

So when I saw a used copy of Yanni: Live at the Acropolis at my local Goodwill last week for three dollars, I pounced. For those of you who don't remember the nineties , Yanni was one of the biggest New Age musicians in the world. His albums have sold millions of copies, and his concert video of the Live at the Acropolis event is the second highest-selling music video next to Michael Jackson's Thriller. I was completely ignorant about most of Yanni's career, but I knew he was a big deal and was determined to find out why.

Some context: Yanni's concert at the Acropolis has been called the crowning achievement of his career. The album itself has sold over 7.5 million copies, including five million in North America alone, putting it right up there with the top rock and pop albums of the early nineties. The concert itself was televised and watched by over 500 million people worldwide. PBS aired it as a fundraising event, netting a record amount of donations.

So I don't know what I was expecting when I popped the CD into my car. Maybe it would be very good, justifying the massive sales. Maybe it would be terrible, indicating that it hadn't aged well or I simply wasn't a fan of New Age music. My reaction, however, was neither. Yanni: Live at the Acropolis is neither a good nor a bad album. It's just thoroughly bland and mediocre throughout.

The Music Itself - My Investigation Begins

Yanni's music is just a bunch of orchestral flourishes and swells over a piano or a violin. There's no melody, no real structure, nothing to indicate that any work went into any of these compositions. Rather, it sounds like Yanni sat down at his piano and played a bunch of chords that sounded good and called it a day. There's a pervading consonance throughout, as if Yanni is afraid of performing a single dissonant note.

There's a similar school of composition, called minimalism, that involves stringing together a bunch of simple chords in a repetitive fashion. Minimalism makes no pretense toward emotional involvement though; rather, it's supposed to be hypnotic through its lack of emotion. Every one of Yanni's tracks, in contrast, strives for emotional catharsis. But without any plan or any audience investment in any of these songs, there can be no catharsis. His music simply sits there, swimming in place on major arpeggiated chords, directionless.

It sounds pretty, but it's the sort of "prettiness" you'd expect from an insurance commercial soundtrack or a montage in a Lifetime movie. The prettiness comes from the fact that Yanni orchestrated his bland melody with soft, lush instruments, and threw in some needless wind chimes and suspended cymbal rolls to give it that slightly "mystical" vibe.

So who are the 7.5 million people who bought this? I can see it being slightly appealing to same new age pseudo-hippies who listen to "Classical Music with Dolphin Sounds" CDs to get in touch with the World Spirit. But 7.5 million albums sold is not insubstantial. Yanni was an icon. And I don't know why.

For the record, I'm not trying to be a jerk. If Yanni were a moderately successful New Age musician, I'd totally be OK with it. His music is inoffensive. What confuses me is not that there are people who like Yanni, but the extreme level of his popularity. Yanni: Live at the Acropolis is a gold record, one that would sell well among a very specific market - people who listen to New Age music. But multi-platinum? Really?

The Investigation Continues - Yanni's Fans Respond

My first stop on this investigation was YouTube. Maybe there was something in Yanni's live performance that necessitated watching the band at work, in order to appreciate. So I cued up "Within Attraction" and, while Yanni does have a sweet mustache, it was nothing spectacular. Yanni is the only musician who even looks slightly enthused about the music, and you can tell he's convinced that he's making High Art. But the visual experience didn't fundamentally enhance the music in any meaningful way. Likewise, the YouTube comments such as "I cry every time I head this song" and "OMG!!! r they humans??? i cnt blieve tha extream ability..." tell me nothing.

My next stop was the reviews for the album on Amazon.com. 87 out of 118 reviewers have given this album five stars, but unfortunately they weren't quite able to mention anything specific that would help me understand Yanni's massive appeal. One reviewer called it the "very essence of passion". Another called it "atmospheric" before adding conveniently, "I have a difficult time describing it as anything else."

Most of the positive Amazon reviews mention that Yanni's music has beauty and emotion, without elaborating on anything. (To be fair, most of the negative reviews center around the theory that Yanni is an extraterrestrial or a clone). But Yanni's admirers don't mention any specifics, besides that such and such a track is very emotional, and such and such a track is beautiful. The reviews are so vague that they could be applied to any piece of instrumental music.

Theories and Confusion

So, in the end, I'm baffled. One of my prevailing theories right now is that Yanni's biggest fans have never heard any such instrumental music before, and so they have nothing to compare it to. But I'm not sure if that holds water. Anyone who's been to a wedding has heard Pachelbel's Canon, which, while still Hallmark-ified, has more substance than any one of Yanni's pieces. I don't believe that Yanni's fans are so musically isolated as to not be aware of other instrumental options. Walk into any greeting card store and you'll find a plethora CDs sporting overplayed but nonetheless solid classical music (Moonlight Sonata, anyone?).

The other theory is that Yanni's music works best as background music. I like him as this; I wrote some academic papers with the CD playing softly in the background. Likewise, it's not bad stuff for driving on a dark rainy night. It's fluff, music that doesn't demand anything from the listener - the aural equivalent of those cheesy beach paintings you might find in a hotel room. But Yanni's reviewers tell me otherwise; not one that I read mentions the music as background music. Instead, these people talk about being transfixed by the sheer passion of Yanni.

Again, it's not bad stuff. It's just boring, and not something I would have guessed would have massive appeal. I'm not belittling Yanni fans for bad taste; rather, I'm beseeching America to tell me how this strange man and his thoroughly mediocre music became a best-selling phenomenon. Last year, the NHL Playoffs were scheduled around Yanni's performance in the Pittsburgh Mellon Arena, an incident that annoyed both the Pittsburgh Penguins and Washington Capitals. Granted, hockey is the black sheep of the professional sporting world, but when you have entire leagues rearranging their schedule to accommodate you, you must be a pretty big deal.

I suppose you never know what is and isn't going to sell well in America. That's part of the fun of following the entertainment industry - watching well-marketed things flop and watching no-name performers rise out of nowhere to become unexpected successes. But there's no rhyme or reason to it. If anyone out there on the Internet purchased a Yanni CD, or knows someone who has, sound off in the comments. I'm curious as to how you or your companion got into Yanni, what prompted the purchase. America has 307 million residents, and five million of them own Yanni: Live at the Acropolis. That's roughly 1 out of every 61 people. You'd think I would have met at least one of them in my life.

I keep returning to the CD, listening again in case there's some emotional depth or interesting sound that I've missed. But as of right now, he remains a musical enigma.

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Too Big Not To Sue – Activision v. Infinity Ward

The world, it seems, is falling apart. Earthquakes threaten every corner of the globe. Bafflingly-named volcanoes ground flights for days. We’re running out of helium-3! The Mayans, with their crazy calendar and wooden monkeys, must truly have foreseen the inevitable disasters facing every aspect of our planet.

And it appears the world of video games has not been spared such calamity.

Forgive my hyperbole, but to follow the news regarding the split between Activision and Infinity Ward is to read article after article about one of the biggest debacles the industry’s ever seen. This puts “Guy Dislikes Kane & Lynch, Gets Canned, Starts Kickass New Website” to shame. I won’t begrudge the blogs their traffic on this one, as it’s one of the few stories that’s actually been delivered via legit journalism. It’s outside the realm of the dilapidated Preview/Review cycle and has thus brought out the best in writers hungry to actually cover something.

It all started with the release of Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2 last fall. Published by Activision and developed by Infinity Ward, MW2 broke world records on launch day and held strong through the holiday season due mostly to the addictive nature of its finely-tuned multiplayer and solid (if bombastic) single-player campaign. You’d think success like that would earn Infinity Ward carte blanche and golden Priuses for every staff member.

You’d think that. And you’d be wrong.

Ready, Aim, Fire

March 1, 2010. The offices of Infinity Ward. Infinity Ward heads Jason West and Vince Zampella are pulled into a closed door meeting with their Activision bosses. Guards show up on the premises, understandably freaking out the rest of the staff. Word slowly trickles out before the pipe bursts and information floods in from LinkedIn profiles, Twitter accounts, and the blogosphere: Activision just fired West and Zampella.

Why would you chop off the head of your newest golden goose? “Insubordination” and “breaches of contract,” says Activision. No longer could the publishing behemoth abide “self-serving schemers” out “to hijack…the Call of Duty franchise.” I can imagine why a company bleeding cash as a result of the sagging music genre would yearn for a third entry in the Modern Warfare franchise. And I guess I understand why you’d dump the uppity execs refusing to make MW3.

I also understand that said uppity execs might be tired of Modern Warfare and refuse.

The Good(/Bad) Guys

West and Zampella wasted no time in filing a suit against Activision for upwards of $36 mil. As I linked above, Activision quickly replied with a countersuit, claiming that the duo had courted offers from Activision’s competitors. Unfortunately, the details remain a bit murky, as everyone’s still tightly bound by court proceedings.

What’s clear as day however is that yes, West and Zampella are now working with Activision’s most direct competitor, EA. West and Zampella, using the Creative Artists Agency as an intermediary, negotiated a deal through the EA Partners program. There’s delicious irony to be found in the team’s previous relationship to EA – you know, how they made a killer game only to bail, set up a new company, and leech away their talented staff. All of this has happened before, and it will happen again. West and Zampella recently set up a website for their new studio Respawn Entertainment with nothing but an email address for job applications. No one was surprised when Infinity Ward team members started leaving to join Respawn, but the exodus simply won’t end. They may be terrible employees, but West and Zampella must be excellent bosses to inspire such loyalty.

Or maybe the staff is just going where they think they’ll actually get paid. Apparently, Activision’s still holding out on MW2 royalties and may be using the promise of their eventual delivery to persuade people to stay. That won’t stop the deserters, however. The Infinity Ward Employee Group is suing Activision for hundreds of millions of dollars, citing the unpaid royalties. Leaving to work for a company with (supposedly) more creative freedom while still getting money owed you by the company you left? Sounds like a case of having your diamond-fruit cake and eating it, too.

The Bad(/Good) Guys

Poor Activision. You just can’t seem to win. First, you stuff all of your eggs into one plastic guitar. Then, when that breaks, you promptly decapitate the most likely source of all future eggs. What terrible luck. Did I say luck? I meant business practices.

People at Activision must see this, too. Why else would Publishing CEO and president Mike Griffith bail on Activision a mere two months from the expiration of his contract? I’d say the two lawsuits the company’s currently battling are as good reasons as any. Sure, he’ll stay on the board, but that just means he gets to bitch during earnings calls. It’s not like he’ll have a pension to lose or anything.

Activision will do its best to squeeze a few more bucks out of MW2 with the next and final downloadable map pack, but analysts are saying this may be the last we’ll ever see from Infinity Ward. Word on the street is that West and Zampella did (and still are doing) everything they could to prevent a third Modern Warfare title – fighting Activision directly, encouraging their studio to drag its heels, etc. Of course, such a stockade clashes with Activision’s plans for more corporate coin-diving retreats. There’s the most rational explanation for Activision’s behavior, in case you needed one.

The Future

It’s hard to predict exactly how the legal brouhaha will shake out – mostly because the majority of the details now fall under the obfuscatory umbrella of litigation. West and Zampella have Respawn, along with nearly thirty of their former colleagues. EA’s sounds confident the studio will deliver on its immense potential, though I have my doubts about how creative a team can be with one eye perpetually turned to the courtroom.

Activision, the bigger beast of the two, seems better equipped to block out the noise Respawn’s making. Call of Duty: Vietnam’s on the way. They just signed an unprecedented ten-year deal with Bungie (you may have heard of them). Starcraft II’s about to reduce South Korean productivity to zero. This “fingers in many pies” approach should earn them money despite the growing ill will they’ve engendered with this Infinity Ward business.

The highest-grossing entertainment launch in history has turned into the highest-profile firing and ensuing legal battle this industry’s ever seen. Whether or not the massive publisher can protect itself from a multitude of wronged employees could set precedents that would inform future corporate behavior industry-wide. All of this has happened before. But it needn’t happen again.

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Only the Crustiest of Cakes

"Crustcake? Is that something Paula Deen makes?"

Nooooo, dear, stupid reader. Crustcake is an all-things-metal blog run by six excellent dudes from around the country. Their truly national nature allows them to post show picks from around the country. So if you live near Los Angeles, Austin, NY, San Antonio, or Chicago, Crustcake's got you covered on the metal front.

Crustcake sets itself apart from the pack with distinctive writing and an idiosyncratic musical sensibility that doesn't simply regurgitate what the rest of the metal blogosphere is regurgitating. Check out Van Damned's (yes, they all have funny names) profile of Cascadian black metal heroes Skagos to see what I mean.

Dudes aren't lacking in metal pedigree (metalgree?) either. Three of the Crustcake's writers are members of regularly gigging (and excellent) metal bands.

So if you have even a passing interest in that which is close to Satan's heart, you'd be doing yourself a disservice by not checking out Crustcake. Continue...

Afternoon Snack: Super Mario Bros. Crossover

I love mashups. Well-executed ones, anyway.  And while most of these mashups are confined to the realm of music, I’ve found a video game one that hits all the high notes. It’s called Super Mario Bros. Crossover, it’s by Jay “Exploding Rabbit” Pavlina, and it’s a great way to spend an hour or two.

Crossover is a painstaking recreation of the original Super Mario Bros. with a twist – other classic NES game characters are now playable, with most of their signature moves intact. Blowing up Bowser with Mega Man’s (titular) charge shot (!!!) is surprisingly gratifying.

The game wouldn’t be noteworthy if it didn’t play as well as it does – all the characters and their power-ups fit surprisingly well into the classic Mario levels, and the level of polish that has gone into making the game feel so organic is evident from the outset.

This is Pavlina’s first game. Please make more.

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The Big Leagues: Struck-Down Game Law Goes to the Supreme Court

Earlier this week, the United States Supreme Court announced that it would hear Schwarzenegger v. Video Software Dealers Association in its fall term.

The case is an appeal for struck-down California state law which would prohibit the sale of adult-themed video games to minors. The law specifically mentions games in which the player participates in "killing, maiming, dismembering or sexually assaulting an image of a human being."

This case is the culmination of years of battling between lawyers, politicians and the video games industry. The politicians and lawyers, represented by folks such as California senator Leland Yee and disbarred attorney Jack Thompson, argue that violent and, to a lesser extent, sexually graphic video games have a corrupting effect on impressionable youths, that the rating system in place isn’t doing enough to protect minors from the games. The game industry proponents counter that evidence linking video games to violent behavior is tenuous or inconclusive at best, and that banning sale of these games to minors would infringe upon game developers’ First Amendment rights.

The Supreme Court case could put the final nail in the coffin for many of these laws when it is heard in October – what follows is not a blow-by-blow account of all of the legal brouhaha and the arguments from both sides, but rather some points about what the law is trying to do, where it falls short, and what we can do to more effectively address lawmakers’ concerns.

The Law

The California law in question has three main goals:

• Make the sale of adult-themed games to minors illegal
• Require retailers to stock adult-themed games in a separate area, away from games intended for children
• Require retailers to post signage explaining the current game rating system

The laws passed California’s Congress and were signed by Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger, but were later shut down in court on the grounds that they endangered game developers’ freedom of expression.

Most of the video game press demonizes or oversimplifies the Schwarzenegger side of the debate, which is admittedly pretty easy to do – Jack Thompson’s circus-like court cases and disbarment are the stuff of legend, and some of these laws’ louder proponents are the shrill, underinformed, someone-please-think-of-the-children types who come out of the woodwork every time someone invents a new musical genre. However, some of the California bills’ aims are what I might consider reasonable – in particular, a section requiring retailers to explain the system by which games are rated for content.

The Rating System

The Entertainment Software Rating Board, or ESRB, assigns one of several content-based ratings to every game that comes out in the United States – the most common are E for Everyone, T for Teen, and M for Mature. These are roughly analogous to the G/PG, PG-13, and R ratings assigned to movies, but are not as widely disseminated or understood as are movie ratings.

A concentrated effort on the part of the ESRB, retailers, and game industry notables to promote understanding of this system could go a long way toward patching the chasm between the law as suggested and the reality of the situation - most of the truly impressionable minors (pre- and early teenagers) which the law seeks to protect do not have consistent, reliable sources of income. It’s almost certain that most games sold to minors are purchased not by the minors themselves, but by their parents or other family members.

This is where awareness of the existing ESRB rating system comes in handy – people who simply look at the Christmas list and buy the games sometimes don’t know what they’re getting for little Timmy. Mass Effect 2, while rated M, has no obvious references to blood or sex in the box art, even though the game features plenty of killing (sometimes in cold blood) and also gives you the opportunity to do it with several of your female companions. Grandma isn’t bringing the Blade trilogy to anyone’s eighth birthday party because she knows what an R-rated movie is – make sure she knows just as well what an M-rating entails.

Summaries of the different ESRB ratings can be found on the ESRB Web site.

Parenting Involves Responsibility (okay you guys?)

This leads me to my second point – allowing or disallowing minors to play these games is the responsibility of the parent, and there’s no argument that can convince me otherwise.

This defense is often cited by parents who themselves play games – it may be more difficult than just sitting them in front of the TV and letting them do whatever they want, but one of the many responsibilities you have as a parent is to know what your child is doing and who with. This is non-negotiable. No law can (or should try to) replace proper parenting.

I sincerely hope that as the people who’ve played video games all their lives themselves become parents, concerns such as those addressed by the California bill are addressed as a matter of course. People with a more thorough understanding of this technology, what it does, and how it works can lead naturally to better parental supervision, and fewer scandalous, fact-free horror stories about game systems exposing our childrens to worlds of pornography.

Conclusions

This law and laws like it have been shot down at the state level not just in California, but in several other states as well. Legislation to put such restrictions in effect at the national level was similarly fruitless. Ultimately, I don’t think that the California judge’s decision will be overturned, and that this will set a precedent that will put an end to most of the efforts to restrict these games at the state level.

However, the Supreme Court is hearing the case, which it wouldn’t do for no reason. It may be that there are some additional wrinkles that have yet to be considered, or that a less restrictive version of the bill may yet be passed. We’ll continue covering this story and discussing these issues as they come up – in the meantime, the topic is ripe for discussion. Sound off in the comments.

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Happy Birthday, Steven Blum!

Cartoons and video games employ a lot of voice actors.  We’ve come a long way from a schizophrenic Mel Blanc and Engrish text boxes (okay, maybe not that far).  And for every Nolan North, there are least five unsung heroes like Steven Blum.

To call him unsung is sort of a misnomer, however, as Blum has an extensive career in anime, American cartoons, and gaming.  Anime geeks will know him as Spike Spiegel from Cowboy Bebop and the effete snakeman Orochimaru in Naruto.  Comic book nerds may recognize his Wolverine work.  And gamers have heard him in everything from Valkyria Chronicles to Arkham Asylum to Halo 3 (guy does a mean Brute growl).

I’m not-so-secretly fascinated by voice acting, so it’s a pleasure to wish a bon anniversaire to one of the field’s most reliable and versatile contributors.

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Value-Free or Value-Priced?: The Rise of the (Nearly) Free

In December of last year, I wrote a think piece (rant) about how I thought people who steal music don't actually value it because they aren't willing to pay for it. That which you don't pay for you don't value. Like interns.

Call this an addendum to my position, then. Or maybe an appendix, full of useful information.

In May of last year, I started getting emails from Amazon informing me of their "50/$5" deal, where the site's editors pick fifty albums to sell for five bucks. "Yeah, right," I thought. "This'll just be the e-version of a record store bargain bin. Can't wait to download the .mp3 version of Don Johnson's Heartbeat."

It turns out that Amazon wasn't just trying to clear room on their e-shelves... I'm also told that's not how computers work. Whatever.

Amazon's editors actually managed to pick out a pretty good batch of records to offer for five bucks apiece. That first go-around included records by Wavves, TV on the Radio, Kanye, and Etta James. And subsequent iterations didn't slouch, either. The following months saw albums by the GZA, Phoenix, and Radiohead get knocked down to the price of an imported beer at the bar.

As if fifty cheap albums weren't enough, the site expanded the promotion to a hundred records in December of 2009. I've picked up albums by Art Blakely, Raekwon, and John Coltrane for five measly dollars. I just now downloaded Fang Island's self-titled debut and Iggy Pop's Lust for Life.

And that's not even counting their thoroughly random discount system. For no reason I can discern, the site sold new albums by Grizzly Bear, Vampire Weekend, and Sunn 0))) for as little as two bucks. Two bucks?! YOU CAN'T GET A BIG MAC FOR TWO BUCKS.

I'm not simply shelling for Amazon, either. There's deals to be found everywhere! That was the housewife-iest thing I've ever said. Other than that time I decided to pretend I was a middle-aged woman on Twitter.

Amie Street offered Animal Collective's Merriweather Post Pavilion for the better part of a year. And just about every typical-length record is $7.50 on Lala. And you know I love those mfka's.

That's not counting the inestimable amount of 100% free music available on .mp3 blogs. I'll admit that those exist in a kind of legal no-zone, but I take heart in the hosting policies of most blogs. The supremely excellent metal blog Crustcake has an .mp3 policy which says that they're "only trying to promote you or your artist(s)...If there are any [.mp3's] you're not so keen on us having up here on the interwebs, please contact us." I used to write for them, so I know they're sincere on that front.

Blogs are a notorious source of leaks, though usually of songs rather than whole records. I know LCD Soundsystem got a little miffed when a couple of songs from their new, Charge-Shot!!!-approved record leaked onto We All Want Something to Shout For early this month. So download those songs at your own philosophical peril. I'm gonna buy the sucker (I love LCD enough to spend sevn fitty on 'em!), so I downloaded them shits right quick.

"But," you might say, "even if there are tons of albums out there for dirt cheap, they might still not be the albums I want!"

If you said that, I'd probably tell you that, even if you can't get the album you want for $5 or less, you can still probably find it for $7.50. That's a whole lot less than CDs usually cost, and you don't have to get in your 1998 gold Saturn S-Series and drive to Coconuts to get it. Also, I'd snicker because you said "but."

I'd also point out that a good price point can lead you to a lot of content that you might not have otherwise checked out. The A.V. Club's Noel Murray talked about something like this in a post on the site's blog in March of 2009. He pointed out that while Netflix Instant doesn't have everything you could ask for (a fact lamented by Mr. Aziz Ansari), it still does have quite a bit of good stuff. I probably would have never gotten around to watching Tony Kaye's (magnificent) three-hour abortion documentary Lake of Fire if it hadn't been priced right at $0.00 and available to watch, you know, instantly.

There have been a ton of records, movies, and TV shows that I never would have discovered if they hadn't been free or close-to-free.

So you'll understand if I don't have much patience for people who say they don't buy music/movies because they're too expensive.

Stupid person, meet the internet.

Note: In case you don't know, that's a picture of Matthew Lesko, that crazy dude from the infomercials who's always yelling about how the government will give you money to take a shit or something. Continue...

The iPhone-Gawker Thing, Continued

The saga of the leaked fourth-generation iPhone continues. For the story up to this point, read our post from last week.

The latest development: Police with a signed warrant entered the house of Gizmodo editor Jason Chen on Friday, confiscating all of his computing equipment and several sales receipts. The warrant was issued because the computers were believed to contain information about a felony, namely Gizmodo and Gawker Media’s purchase of the iPhone prototype from an unnamed source.

Gawker’s legal team fired back, citing a California state law protecting journalists from revealing their sources. You can read the full warrant and Gawker’s written response here.

Chris said it the best in our blog-wide email thread:

“Even if he's a journalist, the law only prevents journalists from being subpoenaed to reveal their sources (assuming I read it correctly). It doesn't prevent them from trafficking in stolen goods. Journalists have the right to retain anonymous sources; they don't have the write to break any law just because they are journalists.

Read the letter Gawker wrote. It's incoherent. They don't understand that the "don't issue a warrant to journalists" clause applies only to subpoenas. Whereas the California warrant clearly states they were seizing the goods because they were used to commit a felony.

I didn't have strong feelings on Gawker one way or another before this, but now they're coming across as really incompetent. Did they even consult a lawyer before issuing their response?”

I largely agree – the “we can do anything we want in pursuit of a story because we’re journalists with a responsibility to our readers” stance jives with statements that Gawker head Nick Denton has made up to this point.

This is a polarizing issue, and we’re sure you have stuff to say about it – sound off in the comments, as always.

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The Younger Statesmen visit the Renaissance Pleasure Faire!

The video is done and complete. You've read about it... Now see with your own eyes the total chaos that ensued at the Original Southern California Renaissance Pleasure Faire!

...Visit the Renaissance Pleasure Faire from Younger Statesmen on Vimeo.

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The Shame Locker: Bands I Can’t Quite Claim

Some bands I’ll never admit to liking. Call it shame, call it self-conscious snobbery – I won’t tell you how much I love Jimmy Eat World’s Bleed American. Not without an ironic aside, at least.

It’s not that Bleed American is bad. In fact, it’s very good – for what it is. See? There’s the qualifier. So long as I put Jimmy Eat World in its place, I can coo and patronize all I want. I probably read too much Pitchfork.

But really, the pathology is all mine. I keep my guilty pleasures in a dark, secret place; in the same way that, say, an evangelical preacher squirrels away his love for gay prostitutes and crystal meth. But while both prostitution and methamphetamines are a crime, having bad taste isn’t.

Really, it can be quite rewarding. See if you agree.

Third Eye Blind

Why I Love Them: Third Eye Blind’s self-titled 1997 debut was one of the first CDs I ever owned. I listened to singles “Semi-Charmed Life,” “Jumper” and “How’s It Gonna Be” until my Walkman died, even though I didn’t quite understand what Stephen Jenkins meant when he rapped “How do I get back there, to the place where I fell asleep inside you?”

They released Blue a few years later – an awkward, over-ambitious sophomore album if ever there was – and my correspondingly awkward, over-ambitious teenage self flowed into songs like “Wounded” and “1,000 Julys.” I adopted Third Eye Blind as the de-facto soundtrack for my freshman year. In retrospect, this is funny; at 14, I still didn’t quite get it when Jenkins said “When you come, it’s like a thousand Julys.”

Why They’re Actually Good: Their debut album is one of the most radio-friendly CDs to be released in my lifetime. More than that, it’s just friendly: the hooks are easy and embraceable; the lyrics teeter between clever and corny, just as we like ‘em.

Why They Suck: Things really go south after Blue. The 2003 followup, Out Of the Vein, has some truly laughable moments. See “Misfits,” where Jenkins claims to be dizzy from “whatever we just passed around.” For me, this was like seeing your favorite uncle get drunk and fall over the patio furniture. The band emerged from a long silence in 2009 to release Ursa Major. Though preceded by “Red Star,” a promising cut, the album was totally forgettable (at best).

Jimmy Eat World

Why I Love Them: I remember when I first heard “The Middle,” the lead single off breakthrough album Bleed American: I was driving over the Delaware Memorial Bridge, proving I could drive more than 50 consecutive miles without getting in an accident. I seized on Jim Adkin’s nasally pop-emo vocals, and I was delighted to discover the album full of both adenoids and angst. It took the position previously occupied by Third Eye Blind, guiding me through late adolescence with golden hooks that probably made label DreamWorks very, very rich.

Futures, released in 2004, strained for maturity with mixed results. I loved it regardless and hoisted it like a personal standard. Did that feel shameless? Let me know; my therapist would be pleased to hear.

Why They’re Actually Good: Just listen to “The Authority Song.” This is good pop at its most essential: good hook, clear lyrics, clocking in at just over 3:30. And Bleed American is full of tracks as good, if not better. “A Praise Chorus” is (almost literally) one note, but like a Labrador retriever, its enthusiasm is undeniable, even charming. The elegiac “Hear You Me” hits and sustains that sweet spot between earnest and sickening.

“Futures” is a great opener for their (ahem) mature album, brash and towering. “Just Tonight” trips Futures up early, but “Work,” a taut number that replicates the virtues of “The Authority Song” to a tee. Jimmy Eat World made music one could enjoy without much thought, but enrich enormously with a little consideration. I can’t say Animal Collective enjoys that flexibility.

Why They Suck: The follow-up to Futures, Chase This Light (2007), was execrable. Whatever was good and honest about “Hear You Me” became embarrassing in “Gotta Be Somebody’s Blues,” and numbers like “Here It Goes” and “Firefight” are enough to make former fans fling their iPods across the room. “Chase This Light” enjoys an on-again, off-again spot on my workout mix, but that’s the best I can say for it.

I could go on. The Smashing Pumpkins earned a spot in the shame locker after 2007’s Zeitgeist; Hans Zimmer stores his considerable brass section there. I feel cleaner, now; thank you. Now let me genuflect before Pitchfork and check out a snippet of the new Grizzly Bear number.

Image credit: dieselsweeties.com

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Anthony Burch leaves Destructoid, bends knee for game journo Ashley Davis

In one fell swoop, Destructoid curmudgeon Anthony Burch bid farewell to his readers and proposed to fellow D-toider Ashley Davis.

Burch was Destructoid’s in-house  snob. He waded through the burgeoning discourse praising and damning games, grand inquisitor of the Church of Games As Art. He wore a skinny tie and spoke like a jaded undergrad. And though I poke fun, he was very good at what he did.

Burch heads to Gearbox Software, the folks behind such twisted brilliance as Borderlands. I have no doubt he’ll prosper on their payroll. Let’s just hope they let him continue Hey Ash, Whatcha Playin?

And yes, I’m posting this primarily because I thought the proposal was adorable.

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Everyview

What would you think if I told you that there was a Web site that would review anything and everything? Maybe you would say “how do they find the time” or “they probably can’t review everything” or “how did you get into my house.”

If you thought the second thing, I can tell you that Everyview doesn’t review everything, but it comes pretty damn close. They reviewed the most recent Pokémon games. They reviewed Wendy’s Premium Fish Fillet. They wrote one for an exercise machine, they write them for movies, and they reviewed every one of three different limited-time Mountain Dew flavors. And I thought our scope was wide.

Anyway, you can now find them linked in our Affiliates section in the right-hand sidebar. While you look for that, I’ll be whipping up a batch of moonshine Red Bull in my bathtub in hopes that they’ll decide to review it.

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Big Laughs at the Original Renaissance Pleasure Faire

I've recently learned that there is somewhat of a stigma attached to Renaissance Faires. Maybe it's the old-timey speech spewed by ribald old men and lusty wenches with grotesquely pushed-up busts. Maybe it's the balmy heat and the constricting costumes and the unappetizing smell of horse. Or maybe it's because most people have a general dislike for periods of history before the invention of the television and air conditioning and the internet. Whatever it is, the mere mention of one of these events will elicit nasty glances, sneers, and name-calling.

I've never been able to understand this. I've been to four such events (three here in Los Angeles, and one in Cincinnati), and I've had a pretty good time at each one. I got some cool wares (a sword, a journal, and a Robin Hood-esque feathered cap), I saw some cool jousts, and I ate some delicious gigantic turkey legs. I also threw some cool axes, and saw these two guys do a pretty good comedy/precision knife-work routine. Sure I was heckled a little by the "merchants" pretending to sell their rotting fish heads and the rotund Shakespeare impersonators spouting quotations. But if this is how these people want to spend their time, who am I to object?

But people certainly do object, even at the idea of spending part of a day (let alone an entire career) at the faire. I'm not gonna lie, I've been the subject of some of these objections, and I didn't much mind - I'm aware of the stigma, and I attend anyway. But during my most recent visit, I was subjected to the worst kind of Faire-denigrators: those involved with an improv-sketch-comedy documentary. And what makes it worse: they were my friends - The Younger Statesmen!

When I visit the Renaissance Faire, I want to have a good time and get into the spirit of things. As part of this process, I like to dress up a little - because, quite frankly, it's kind of embarrassing to be the only one to show up to the faire wearing a t-shirt and sneakers. Not that I particularly care about impressing the glorified carnies who inhabit the fest, I just don't like to do things half-assed is all. So I girded myself as a Ranger of the wood, completing the look with a cloak on my back and a sword at my side.

I also provided my friends with costumes and weapons. (Having grown up doing theater, and with two parents involved with "the biz," I tend to have a lot of spare period-gear lying around. Plus I'm an ardent sword collector. What? Don't try to convince me that these things are anything but normal.) Although they didn't quite share my level of enthusiasm for the Faire, I knew these guys to be a pretty legitimate and talented comedy group, and I respected that they wanted to look the part.

I also respected their mission of providing fair and balanced (or so I thought) coverage of the proceedings. Come to think of it, I should have seen the shabby treatment coming: we're talking about lowbrow comedians who do anything to get a laugh. They have no qualms about saying crude things and making people feel uncomfortable as long as it might get a rise out of their viewers. It turns out that a great deal of their comedy involves making jokes at others' expense, rather than just sharing in a magical experience together. Looking at some of their previous work should have made this abundantly clear.

Looking back on the process of shooting the documentary-style sketch, it wasn't actually that bad. Renaissance Faires are notorious hotbeds for strange behavior, and our interviewers certainly got as good as they gave. (If you heard some of the lewd comments directed at our female videographer, you would immediately lose all sympathy for all reenactors in general.) And it was all good-natured fun: asking faire-goers about their love life and challenging innocent bystanders to duels doesn't hurt anyone. And if there's the possibility of bringing some mirth into some people's lives, then what's the harm?

Unfortunately, I didn't see it that way while we were at the fest. We'd all had a little too much mead, and I got a bunch of highfalutin ideas in my head about "honor" and "respect," and I apparently thought my friends were crossing too many lines. Plus, this one time, I was trying to demonstrate my mad skillz at a badass RenFaire event (axe-throwing), and my friends just kept heckling me and ruining my concentration. So I lost my cool a little bit.

I'm not proud of what happened between us. We had some words... and some fisticuffs. But who knows, maybe it will make for an entertaining internet video phenomenon.

YOU DECIDE!

...Visit the Renaissance Pleasure Faire from Younger Statesmen on Vimeo.

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24 in 24 Words: Day 8, Hour 19

Episode 19 - “10:00 a.m. to 11:00 a.m.”

Spoilers after the jump!

Cherry sells her soul to Charles “Mephistopheles” Logan.  Jack can’t trust anyone…except Freddy, I guess.  DB Sweeney is about to get medieval on Starbuck.

You can catch up on our concise 24 coverage here.  Did we miss something?  Leave it in the comments!

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This Week on Audiosurf Radio – Crossing the Road

A common theme of Chris’s long-running Thoughts of An Aspiring Music Snob is his appreciation/acceptance of at least some slice of the artist-in-question’s oeuvre.  Be it their best live album, their ambitious sophomore effort, whatever.  He rarely spends an entry just absolutely panning the music.  On the other hand, he generally avoids being too effusive.

I sometimes feel similarly about each week’s Audiosurf  offerings.  I can enjoy a ride while not caring for the music.  I can enjoy the vocals on a song whose ride left me quite bored.  It isn’t hard to ride in the middle of the road, which makes the occasion all the more special when I find a song I really love and decide to the actually choose a side and cross the damn road. 

This intro’s not just nonsense.  Allow me to tease what follows the jump: I’m crossing over to Rig’s side of the road.  This young Canadian mixes elements of the 8-bit craze with more traditional techno to great effect.  I’m more sold on one of his songs than the other featured this week, but that’s no reason for me not to back the guy (nor is his Canadian citizenship).

Shoring up the week’s playlist is a cut from Quantum Jazz, whose work can be streamed over on Jamendo.  They’re a piano/bass/drums trio.  That’s all I know, so that’s all I can tell you.

The Songs

Have you heard of Leonard Bernstein’s Young People Concerts?  After he became conductor the New York Philharmonic in 1958, Bernstein took over the role of ambassador to young musicians, leading the series of concerts-slash-lectures.  If there were an equivalent series for indie techno music, “Moar” would definitely be part of the program.  It opens with some hilarious Text-to-Speech about how to build tension with hi-hats and the importance of cowbell.  Of course, the cymbals and cowbell then come in right on cue.  The overall effect is one of humor, a trait sorely lacking in the techno genre.  Speaking of Text-to-Speech, has there ever been a more perfect tool for prank-calling best friends’ moms and pizza delivery men?  Or was that just me?  But back to the subject, “Moar” has a mood of upbeat silliness.  I’m picturing a montage of candid camera footage.  And the track mirrors this, remaining buoyant throughout the ride.  I can’t not bounce to this music, no matter how long it repeats.  In the middle a new melody stumbles in like an excited toddler on the dance floor at a wedding.  The word adorable comes to mind.  Play this song, even if it does need a few moar goofy lyrics.

“Am I Cool Yet?” opens with a Mega Man-like ditty laid over a house beat.  A voice dares to ask, “Am I cool yet?”  I expect the song to off on a nerdy path of self-deprecation.  Instead, I get the fuzziest demon’s growl of a bass line.  It means business, too.  When “Am I cool yet?” echoes once more, I begin to wonder if Rig’s no longer poking fun at nerds but techno fiends.  Thing is, it’s just a hair too close to sounding sincere.  You may have a friend who thinks James Taylor wrote “Steamroller Blues” in earnest.  He or she would not think “Am I Cool Yet?” is a parody of anything.  And it may not be, I’m not quite sure.  The drums are certainly serious; the bass bears no ironic smile; and there’s the blatant absence of hilarious Text-To-Speech.  If there’s a joke here, it’s buried beneath the subwoofer.

For a Latin jazz song with a moderately upbeat tempo, “Casa Noir” is surprisingly relaxing.  So much so that I had difficulty focusing on the task at hand – namely, the collection and organization of colored blocks.  The drums keep thing loose and moving, generating most of the traffic along the way.  The piano glides competently; I did appreciate hearing the occasional Debussy-like chord punctuate a longer melodic run.  The electric bass, however, did stick out a bit.  Most of the song it blended fine, but I occasionally found myself longing for a proper string bass to fill the basement beneath the piano improvisation.  And the ending bass solo, cheapened by its electronic sound, only served to further validate my point.  Check out the crisp rumble of Paul Chambers if you need convincing.  Look out for the power-ups on this one (multipliers, paints, etc.), as they’ll be necessary to keep the ride interesting.

Author’s Note

All songs were played on the Pro difficulty at least twice using the Eraser and Vegas characters.  The neat thing about Rig being an avid Audiosurfer is that he took the time to be present in the comment sections of his tracks.  Unfortunately, he had to read people like FTK_PI say of “Am I Cool Yet?”:  “It was like a bed getting pushed into a woodcutter.”  I think dude means wood chipper, but I’m with him.  That bass is damn near out of control.

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I will not make a pun about whether or not this movie "kicks ass"

The past ten-or-so years could very well be described as the decade of the superhero movie. The big summer tentpoles of the Aughts were very heavy on comic books as source material, for better or worse.

Some very smart and famous philosopher, I think it was Plotinus, once said that if you release enough movies that follow the same formula or share enough in common, eventually someone is going to try and make a movie that serves as a counterpoint, a "deconstruction" if you will, to those aforementioned movies. Oddly enough, the "let's take a realistic look at superheroes" movie is an adaptation of a comic book, and one by a fairly prolific and well-regarded creative team at that.

For those of you with decent jobs and realistic, healthy relationships with the opposite sex, Kick-Ass author Mark Millar is one of the more, for lack of a better word, "controversial" comic book writers working today. He's had his share of well-regarded successes this past decade (The Authority, Superman: Red Son) as well as the sort of dreck that makes a ton of money and represents almost everything going wrong with comics today (Wanted, Civil War). Kick-Ass is one of his more recent works, coming out in 2008, and has now been adapted for the big screen, essentially functioning as the second superhero deconstruction film in two years (Remember Watchmen? Of course you do!).

Kick-Ass tells the story of New York City teenager Dave Lizewski (Aaron Johnson), a shy, nerdy, Peter Parker type who one day, for no reason at all decides that it might be a good idea to follow in the footsteps of his beloved comic book superheroes and don a costume and fight crime. His first endeavors to battle the forces of evil are met with little success as he finds himself beaten up by petty thieves and street gangs. However, his persistence pays off and before you know it, he's become a Youtube and MySpace(?) sensation and finds himself teaming up with fellow costumed vigilantes Hit-Girl (Chloë Moretz, the world-weary kid sister who nearly ruined 500 Days of Summer), Big Daddy (Nicolas Cage, give this man a comeback!), and Red Mist (Christopher "McLovin" Mintz-Plasse) to take down mob boss Frank D'Amico (Mark Strong).
Kick-Ass has two hooks: the somewhat novel concept of a realistic take on superheroes, and to quote the first issue of the comic's cover, "sickening violence". On the first count, I have a few issues. On the second, things are basically copacetic.

On the notion of "real-life" superheroes, obviously this has been done before and that didn't turn out very well. I suppose the intellectual backing behind this endeavor was that Watchmen took itself a bit too seriously (I mean, it had a big, blue, glowing dick in half the movie and they never once made a joke about it!) and could really have used a shot of adolescent cursing, sex, and ultraviolence. That's all well and good I suppose, those are three things that are pretty hard to argue with. But I think that the world created by Kick-Ass is pretty inconsistent. On the one hand you have the titular hero basically failing in his superheroics and that in itself is pretty entertaining. The idea of a superhero as a guy who puts on a dorky looking costume and gets beat up by street thugs in the name of justice is a good idea for a film, I'd definitely watch that.

But by the time Kick-Ass meets Hit-Girl and Big Daddy, all this goes out the window. While mild-mannered teenager Dave Lizewski certainly has trouble fighting crime, the father/daughter superhero duo acts like they're actually the stuff that comics are made of. They rack up gigantic Chow Yun-Fat body counts all the while being a middle-aged man and an 11-year-old girl. Meanwhile, Dave is still getting his ass kicked. If the movie, and I suppose Millar's original story, had just stuck with the "it's really hard to be a superhero" angle, I think we'd have a pretty big success on our hands. On the flip side, the "superheroes are emotionally damaged psychopaths who endanger their families by going on shooting sprees against the Mafia" movie would be a good one too, but putting them in the same movie undercuts both sides.

And in terms of violence, yeah it's fine but I remember being more shocked and amused by 2005's Sin City. On that subject, Mark Millar is in grave danger of becoming a latter day version of his sound-alike predecessor Frank Miller: all style (see: "sex and violence") and little-to-no substance.

The direction by Matthew Vaughn (who made the awesome Layer Cake and Stardust) and the cast's performances are all fine, in fact taken for itself the movie is a good evening's entertainment. Seeing an 11-year-old girl say the c-word and brutally murder swathes of henchmen is worth the price of admission alone. Just treat the movie as it should be treated, it's the cinematic equivalent of Mountain Dew: covered in high fructose corn syrup and made to sate your inner adolescent.



Final verdict: 48 Congos Continue...

Thoughts of an Aspiring Music Snob: Week 56 - Coldplay

Coldplay seems to be one of the more divisive bands of the last decade. On one side, people argue that the group is responsible for some beautiful, melodic anthems. On the other side, there are those who argue that Coldplay, like, totally sucks.

Britons voted Coldplay as the band most likely to put them to sleep. And merely dipping my toe in the water of online music criticism this week, I could already see the sharks of Coldplay haters circling ominously, waiting for the kill.

And I can't even deny that these haters don't have something to gripe about. Coldplay is nothing if not corny, all their songs sleekly processed, their melodies almost sickeningly saccharine. They're also very popular, their songs frequently plastered over commercials and advertisements, which grates the "art is incompatible with capitalism" crowd.

But I'm acknowledging that the haters have a point right at the very outset only because I liked Coldplay. I completely understand where the critics are coming from. But I certainly didn't that much of a problem with the group. The more I read about Chris Martin, the more he sounds like an insufferable douche (I get disproportionately angry when foreigners start endorsing U.S. candidates for President), but sticking strictly to the music, I think that there's a lot to like in Coldplay. Liking them involves admitting that a band so easily palatable and appealing to large groups of the listening populace can still be good, but perhaps sometimes the masses have okay tastes in music.

Still, for the Coldplay haters out there, I really don't have a rebuttal to any of your arguments, except to say that "I liked it". It's not something to showcase as the center of your iTunes library, but I think some sugary Coldplay as part of a well-balanced musical diet is not necessarily a bad thing.

WEEK 56

ARTIST OF THE WEEK: Coldplay

MY LISTENING: I listened to A Rush of Blood to the Head (2002) every day this week. I also listened to Viva la Vida or Death and All His Friends (2008) four times, and Parachutes (2000) and X & Y (2005) three times a piece.

WHAT I KNEW BEFORE: Besides the ubiquity of "Clocks" on modern radio, Coldplay came up last December. I was driving with ChargeShot!!! editor Rob Kunzig, forcing him to listen to Kraftwerk. Their 1981 song "Computerliebe" came on, the melody of which Rob immediately recognized from Coldplay's 2005 song "Talk". The musical theft is so blatant that we were confused how Coldplay had gotten away with it. As it turns out, they had permission, but this sort of thing only makes me like Coldplay more. Any fan of Kraftwerk is a friend of mine.

WHAT I LIKED: As I stated above, Coldplay's music is very smooth and processed, and that helps it go down that much more easily. I had a busy week, so I appreciated the fact that Coldplay is not a difficult group to get into. Their music is unfalteringly melodic, and most of their songs are slow crescendos of Chris Martin's falsetto atop background strings, building to some sort of wall-of-sound moment that's supposed to hit you over the head.

Coldplay's music is sweeping and so melodic that it's very easy to get lost in their broad, open songs. Their debut album, Parachutes, set up the template that all Coldplay albums would follow. Here, Martin's high-pitched falsetto voice is at its best, and songs like "Spies" and the overplayed "Yellow" are that much more effective because of it. Still, I don't think the band's songwriting got that interesting until A Rush of Blood to the Head, which finds the band reaching for a little more emotional depth. Here, songs like "Green Eyes" and the title track take it a bit slower, with the group employing a little more subtlety, alongside the sweeping anthemic sounds of "In My Place" and "Warning Sign". The also over-played "Clocks" is a better hook than an actual song, but this is made up for by "The Scientist", a legitimately deserved hit that combines everything that's good about the group - the gradual crescendo, the catchy piano line, the sincerely melodic falsetto, the so-corny-they-must-be-authentic lyrics.

But while A Rush of Blood to the Head may be the definitive Coldplay album, I have to give Viva la Vida credit for stretching the boundaries a bit. While X & Y is a rather bland step sideways, Viva la Vida shows the group with slightly more ambition. "Yes" and "Death and All His Friends" are two lengthier songs that show Coldplay trying to move beyond the simple song structure that's dominated their past three albums, while "Lost!" and "Strawberry Swing" utilize more complex beats, as they try to escape the torrent of descending piano triads that form the background of so many of their songs. This album easily has the best melodies out of Coldplay's four releases; previous Coldplay tracks had simply relied on Chris Martin wailing a few hooks repeatedly, but this disc proves that the band can craft a real melody when they put their mind to it.

Finally, Viva la Vida has "Violet Hill", a song that moves beyond the slow-paced Coldplay aesthetic to provide some actual power in form of an ominous guitar riff. The band rocks out far too rarely, in part because their soft pop sells so well. But it's something they should do more often.

WHAT I DIDN'T LIKE: Apart from the Brian Eno influenced Viva la Vida, a lot of the band's songs are remarkably similar. They have a winning formula, and they know it. X & Y has been rightly derided as trying too hard to duplicate the success of "Clocks" in such songs as the completely similar "Speed of Sound". As stated above, I believe that Coldplay can tread new territory if they try, but it's something they haven't given nearly enough effort to.

Also, a lot of Coldplay's lyrics are corny, which is something you just have to live with. It's not as bad as it could be - Chris Martin manages to sell lyrics like "The sky could be blue, I don't mind / Without you, it's a waste of time" ("Strawberry Swing") better than most vocalists would - a sort of calculated gesture that my high school poli-sci teacher would call "genuine false sincerity". Still, on songs like "Don't Panic" which has Martin repeatedly imploring, "We live in a beautiful world", even his vocal talents can't save it.

Finally, while Coldplay songs are well-crafted and often beautiful, very few of them have an emotional effect on me. I feel like the songs are constructed to sweep me away, but too often I found myself one step removed from the music, as if standing back and watching it from afar. I appreciate the craft and talent, but songs like "Warning Sign" or "A Message" or even "Viva La Vida" didn't quite manage to capture me. And some tracks, like "Everything's Not Lost", I feel are only there to be appreciated from a distance, with perhaps no emotional material at all. Beauty and emotion are not necessarily equivocal, and I'm not sure if Coldplay has figured that out yet.

FURTHER EXPLORATION WOULD ENTAIL: Everyone, including Coldplay themselves, seem to acknowledge the influence from the Scottish band Travis. So I guess I'd start there.

BEST SONG YOU'VE HEARD: "The Scientist"

BEST SONG YOU HAVEN'T HEARD: "Cemeteries of London"

This song might be a not-quite-successful attempt to sound creepy and ominous. But I like the melody, and I think it's representative of a lot of the stuff that Coldplay does well.

NEXT WEEK'S ARTIST: Green Day

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Writer’s Jukebox – DMB, Titus, and Nacht

The crew is back on board the Good Ship Jukebox.  I’m bouncing in my chair to the digital stylings of FantomenK.  Should he stick with me, you may hear more about him in coming weeks.

In the meantime, we’ve got three totally unrelated entries this week.  Steph returns to Dave Matthews, specifically his live stuff.  If a band’s going to jam, might as well hear what they’re doing while interfacing directly with an audience.  Gene went to see some Jersey band named after a Shakespeare play.  Jordasch is either talking about a prog metal band or just making up words that look like German – I haven’t decided.

Weigh in after the jump.

Stephanie – Baggo (wtf)

I know I already wrote a jukebox about it, but I’m back on a Dave Matthews Band kick. The weather is changing, and my housemates and I have been spending weekends spring-cleaning, planting gardens, having barbecues, and running late night games of beer pong/ladderball/ and baggo (or cornhole, whatever name you happen to call it). Plus, I’m on this amazing month of paid vacation (don’t be too jealous), and every activity I’m engaged in is my own. I wouldn’t say there isn’t any music better for the occasion, because upbeat reggae has also been absolutely fantastic for my mood, but the vast library of Dave Matthews music that my sister and I combine to own (including over 50 recordings of live shows from the last 15 years) has only enhanced this sort of relaxed, outdoor living that I have been enjoying so much lately.

The aforementioned wealth of live concert recordings certainly contributes to the lifespan of this music. Whereas it might be relatively easy to become tired of the seven studio albums and six live-release albums that we currently own, DMB also supports the recording and sharing of all shows, and many of these recordings are high quality – certainly high enough to sound just fine when playing outdoors on a docked iPod stereo. And each show has its own little quirks. Since DMB is inherently a Jam Band, every song can become a 12-minute instrumental soloing epic at any time. Each year the band chose to add some slightly new avenue to their shows such as the transitional “Anyone Seen the Bridge,” the revival of a certain song that hasn’t been played in years, or a four-minute long drum solo by Carter Beauford to end a 16-minute long finale of “Two Step.”

I realize that I haven’t articulated why it’s so perfect for my situation, but I’m not sure I can. It’s got fantastic lyrics, good beats, and badass instrumentals. It’s laid back and intense at the same time. It’s never let me down and I don’t think I will ever get tired of it; I can’t when it reminds so strongly of such Good, Good Times.

Jordasch – In a Nutshell

Jukebox, you caught me in the rarest of forms: in the midst of a metal phase.

Well, not exactly a wholly inclusive metal phase since I'm pretty much just wearing out my copy of Nachtmystium's prog/black-metal clusterfuck of brilliance, Assassins: Black Meddle, Pt. 1.  And yes, that is a Pink Floyd reference, if you were listening.  Good thing, too; if their prog thing went any farther than Floyd, I'd probably have checked out.  Rush can eat my ass.

Some people debate if the album's truly "kvlt," but I like how songwriter/vocalist Blake Judd tempers what's still a fairly unrelenting black metal assault with some squelchy electronics and fucking saxophone (it works).  I appreciate our black metal forefathers as much as the next sweaty, beardy, dude, but records like Darkthrone's A Blaze in the Northern Sky can be a tad mind-numbing.  Maybe that's the point, though.

But if you want some pummeling, old school shit, you'll still get it in spades.  There's a point at the beginning of "Your True Enemy" where the guitar sounds like a the unsheathing of the saber of death.  The flood of blastbeats and rolling thunder guitar that follows is beyond satisfying.  Stereogum's Brandon Stosuy just premiered "No Funeral," a song from Addicts: Black Meddle, Pt.2, the new album from the Nacht (no one calls them that) due out in June.  That I'm a fan of Judd's experiments is clear, but I like a bit more metal in my experimental black metal.  This one's got horror movie synths and a killer robotic drum line, but it's not quite my cup of tea.  Could be a grower, though.

Other metal-related stuff?  Chicago drone doom duo Locrian put out a new record in March called Territories.  I saw these dudes last summer and wasn't blown away, but this thing sounds like a huge step forward.  Check out "The Columnless Arcade" (featuring none other than Blake fuckin' Judd).
Weirdly enough, my metal phase follows a month-long obsession with Pet Sounds (beloved rightly by my fellow bloggers) and an extended affair with my lady love, country music (Johnny Cash's second posthumous album, released in February, is full of excellent stuff).  That stuff, plus a bit of Arvo Pärt, Guided by Voices, the new Charlotte Gainsbourg, and the Hold Steady's new single, "Hurricane J," and you've got Jordasch in a nutshell.

Gene – Jersey Represent!

Last night, I went to see Titus Andronicus play Maxwell's as the last stop on their 53-day tour.  The band has been getting a lot of praise for the latest album, The Monitor, and being from NJ, they sold out the place.  The band played a 90+ minute set (with only a few breaks) filled with their sprawling hard-rock anthems.  If their pedigree was unclear, they started the set with "A More Perfect Union" which jumps off with the line, "tramps like us, baby we were born to die."  Belted out with anything less than the most sincere vitriol, this would be cheap conjuring, but Titus Andronicus pulls off the reveille without having to wink.  Their energy is incessant and contagious.  On the last stop on their tour, in front of their parents and an audience of loyal NJ fans, they delivered a hell of a show for 10 bucks.

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