Riffzzz and Dunkzzz, Wk. 2

I'm a bit pressed for time this week, so I apologize that I'm not doing my standard 4 entries for each. But duty calls and that duty pays $13 an hour whereas this duty barely provides any validation whatsoever.

The Riffzzz



I will never understand the appeal of Aerosmith, including the Aerosmith that existed prior to 1985 when they still hated each other and were stoned most of the time. Their music is a big gaping yawp of mediocrity. Ted Nugent also occupied this well-populated no-man's land of 1970s AOR schlock but he at least had the decency to dress it up in some crazy proto-Straight Edge wild man act. So, I can only infer that weed was just far more plentiful and potent back then, because being high is the only way I can begin to speculate that enjoying Aerosmith is possible. Which might explain why half the cast of characters in "Dazed and Confused" had such a hard-on for them (take it to the 2-minute mark).

Nowadays, Aerosmith ride a wave of prestige simply because Rick Rubin and Run-DMC had the generosity to include them in what would have been a hit anyway. Even so, I suppose I should be grateful for one thing Aerosmith has done.



Black Flag is always a tricky scenario. "Damaged" and "My War" are all classic, as are their early singles "Nervous Breakdown" and "Jealous Again" and without their herculean touring efforts indie bands would still be relegated to big cities on the coast. But by 1984, lawsuits, shitty gigs with even shittier pay, and the sparks resulting from Henry Rollins and Greg Ginn's monumental egos all converged to turn Black Flag the band into Black Flag the pyschotrauma. The band had always been outsiders, but after kicking Chuck Dukowski out of the band (who, it turned out, happened to be the calm center holding it together), the sense of outsiderdom inflated into a parody of themselves. Self-debasing humor had always made Black Flag approachable but by 1985 Henry Rollins only seemed interested in how antagonistic he could be (very) and Greg Ginn was only interested in how slow they could play (again, very).



People used to make fun of me for liking Steely Dan, saying that the only people who liked Steely Dan are tweekers and dad's, but more and more I'm finding that the tide is turning in my favor. That whole crypto lyricism masquerading as genius? Steely Dan were there years before Stephen Malkmus even graduated from UVA. Jazz inflected to a fault, the Dan pretty much stopped touring in the late 1970s since no one could ever get their compositions just so in a live setting. This is from their earlier, more pop-rock phase, but nonetheless features some great guitar playing from session player extraordinaire Elliot Randall (though this version features Jeff "Skunk" Baxter and Denny Dias, who would stick with the Dan through the mid 1970s). Also a rare sighting of their long forgotten singer David Palmer, who Robert Christgau once famously declared "fit in like a cheerleader at a crap game". ALSO: dig on the Bill Cosby intro.

The Dunkzzz



Like Daryl Dawkins before him, Shaq is a big dude with a penchant for breaking shit. He's also, at this point, such a fixture of American pop culture that it's useless trying to talk smack about the guy. Yeah, he's not great from the field but he's working on it. Dude has got a rap career and a thirty foot bed, so step off.



Similar to Shaq, Barkley has become such a ubiquitous figure in sports thanks to his second wind as slow on the uptake commentator that I sometimes forget that ol' Chuck even played. Nothing special here just a two handed jam with some serious authority. I figured I owed him a break since we saw him get taken by Jordan last week.



I always thought Rodman was a punk, even if he had a crappy childhood.

Beyond Dischord: DIY Punk, Pop and Ska from DC - The Bowlcuts

Being from Washington, D.C., I often get asked by people what the scene is really like down there. Obviously, institutions like Dischord, Fugazi, Fort Reno and dc space draw huge interest and the assumption is that D.C. is literally teeming with angular punk bands who release a record or two and then break up.

The reality of this is far less glamorous. Though a few bands, such as Black Eyes and Q And Not U, put out quality records and played fairly often while I was in high school, it was nevertheless difficult to not think that Dischord's halcyon days had passed them by. Even so, a new generation of kid's were picking up guitars and forming bands, though for the most part no one in the older, more politically radical Dischord scene seemed to notice (though Hugh McElroy from Black Eyes was always a friendly face in the crowd.).

For these kids, some as young as 14, ska became a rallying point and DC Ska was its online base of operations (the DC Ska that exists now seems to be a reboot of the old one, and as such doesn't have the same content, which is a shame). A ton of bands, such as the Nothing Squad (who's break up was the stuff of many ridiculous message board flame wars), the Nackles, the Konami Code, thrillHOUSE, Plan Nine USA, Brent's Life Sucks, Ready Steady Go, the Gamma Rays, Die Cheerleader Die, the Alphabet Bombers, etc, etc. Later, most of these bands would go on to form the nucleus for a far too self-serious Screamo/Hardcore scene in DC, with bands like Rue the Day, the Bear and the Butterfly, Mass Movement of the Moth, and others rising from the ashes.

For the next few weeks, I'm going to be digging through my box of crudely made CD-R releases and posting some of the best examples of these bands for any one who wants it. If anyone from the bands I post has a problem with this, please let me know and I'll pull the mediafire links.

This episode - The Bowlcuts (and yes, I was at the advertised show)

The Bowlcuts were sort of an anomaly when compared to their contemporaries in other bands. Most kids either came from the MD suburbs and went to public school or were from DC and went to either Georgetown Day, Wilson, or Field. The Bowlcuts (with the exception of their original drummer, Tommy Long) went to the incredibly well-to-do (and super snooty) St. Albans School and Landon School for Boys. If you cut them, they would bleed blue. They were also not nearly as politically engaged as other bands were, instead sticking to what they knew best: being a teenager and being lovesick. With a minimum of cajoling, they'd even play your prom (God, why, why can I not find any photos of Visi Prom 2003?).

Though the Bowlcuts played pop-punk, it would be a disservice to say that they followed in the harsh-sugary path of So-Cal bands like Pennywise, NOFX, blink-182, and Bad Religion. Rather, the Bowlcuts sound was more informed by girl-groups, the Dictators, the Ramones, the Misfits, Screaching Weasel, and the Queers, as well as mid-70s UK pub rock. That a couple of 16 year-olds were able to distill these influences into their sound and not sound at all like 16 year-olds is still impressive several years after their dissolution.

I saw the Bowlcuts probably ten times, and they never failed to disappoint. They were known for their impossibly skinny jeans and their predilection for standing with their legs spread as far apart as humanly possible. Owen Baker, rather than sing in a nasal whine as so many do in this style, sang in a deep voice with shades of Weezer's River Cuomo and Glenn Danzig. Their first record, Step Out is pretty impressive for a a debut, and features a couple gems like the rollicking, sub-minute "Natalie R." (would love it if someone else posted some footage) to the pure pop of "Judy, Judy." Though there is still some apprehension throughout the record (Tommy Rossi's vocals are kind of all over the place), it's never the less a pretty strong debut.

The Bowlcuts - Step Out! (Self-Released, 2002)

Their second record, I Don't Wanna Talk About It takes the strengths of the their debut and runs with it. The guitar playing is much, much tighter this time around and the vocals from both Tommy and Owen are much more confident. Also, I'm not sure if he appears on the record but at this point they began to play with Nick Popovici (who also plays with The Max Levine Ensemble and apparently ska stalwarts the Pietasters) and is a much, much stronger hitter than Tommy Long. Songs like "Harlequin," "Tiger Lily," and "Walking After You" are all great, great pop songs with strong hooks, while "I Don't Wanna Go Home" and "I Don't Wanna Try" resurrect the bratty bop of the Ramones (that's Bepstein and Spoonboy of TMLE in the video. Can you tell how incestuous this whole scene was?).

The Bowlcuts - I Don't Wanna Talk About It (Self Released, 2002)

The Bowlcuts went on to release (I think) one more EP called "Welcome to Eadsville." It further polished their sound but I never liked it as much as the first two because Owen made the decision to start singing in a really uncomfortable sounding high voice. I think there's also a demo CD of later stuff they did with keyboards that my ex-girlfriend has. As far as I know (and what Facebook tells me), Owen is living in DC after having finished school in Boston, Tommy Rossi is also back in DC after some time in Boston, while their bass player Jonathan was, last I heard, at Columbia.

I definitely have some photos of the band kicking around, I'll work on scanning and uploading them so we can all have a good laugh.

Oh Shit, It's Riffzzz and Dunkzzz Wk. 1!

We get this rolling with a bang here on Oh Shit History's first week of the sickest riffzzz and the most devastating dunkzzz (yes, I do spell these words with three zzz's). Let's just jump right it. YES!

THE DUNKZZZ



In terms of sheer brilliance and technical clout, Michael Jordan still goes unmatched in my opinion. I've been completely disinterested in watching full NBA games for almost five years now (with the exception of the Golden State Warriors 2007 playoff run) but there was a time when I would obsessively watch the Bulls simply to watch MJ do ridiculous things with a basketball. This is a man who can be forgiven for Space Jam and forgiven for what he did to the Wizards front office simply because of what he could do with a basket ball

This is one of his less remarkable dunks (trust me, he will be appearing here often), but it's still pretty sick. You can almost hear Barkley just go "Fuck it."



Spud Webb is 5'7". Manute Bol is 7'7". In this video, Spud Webb takes it to the hole over Manute Bol. Jesus Fucking Christ.



Remember in NBA Jam when you would get your power up all the way and then you'd go in for a dunk and the fucking backboard would come crashing down? Remember how cool that was? And remember how your friend told you that it could really happen and you were all like nah man, you're full of it. And then he made you watch Darryl Dawkins destroy not one, but two backboards? And all of a sudden it was as though you found out the sky was purple and chocolate tasted like poop.



1994 stands the year that I may have given up on the NBA, and if not the NBA, then at least the New York Knicks. It was a truly magical season, up until game seven of the NBA Finals. Most blame John Starks. I blame Pat Riley (seriously how do you NOT bench someone who is going 2 for 18???) Since then it's been a long, long slide into mediocrity and horrific management that seems to have somehow been excacerbated by Patrick Ewing's retirement. The Knicks have become shorthand for "expensive joke" in my mind, but hey, let's remember the good times.



What's that France? You like basketball too? Oh well, how nice. What's that? Frederic Weis is 7'2". Hmmm... Vince Carter does not seem to care. Nope, not one bit.


RIFFZZZ



Before they snagged the coat tails of the nacsent pop metal explosion here in America and held on for dear life, Scorpions were actually a sort of pyschedilic rock collective, kind of how Lemmy from Motorhead did time in prog-rock would be's Hawkwind. In any case, we leave the noodling for aesthetes and focus our attention on their crowning achievement, the caveman simple "Rock You Like a Hurrican." The riff is great fuzzed out power chords, not exactly rocket science. Some resemblance to the building block riff from "Smoke On the Water". Scorpions in a lot of ways were what Quiet Riot could have been had Quiet Riot, you know, had some song writing chops (great covers versions though). A recent viewing of some VH1 horray for metal list indicates that they are still touring. Keep on rocking Klaus and Co.



It's played in the waiting room to hell.



No one did more to replace actual chops with technical wankery and faux classical playing then Eddie Van Halen, and "Eruption" is his temple to all things hammered-on. I can only speculate that the rest of the band allowed him ten minutes to jerk his whammy bar around so they could all indulge in hookers, blow, and non-brown M&Ms backstage. That scene in "Waynes World" where Wayne begins to play "Stairway to Heaven" only to be stopped mid-strum by his employee friend and shown the sign reading "NO STAIRWAY TO HEAVEN" got it only half right. It should have read "NO ERUPTION."



There's no arguing the fact that J. Mascis is an amazing guitarist. He's also an asshole. "Our Band Could Be Your Life" did more to advance the pyschodrama that was Dinosaur Jr then any one could have imagined, even leading to their completely unexpected reunion (seriously, unless Murph was really hurting for some cash. . .). Don't get me wrong, I like Dinosaur Jr but I'm not passionate about them. Part of that probably has to do with the fact that I didn't graduate from Amherst or UMASS in 1991, but it also has to do with the fact that I always found the whole Mascis' detachment masquerading as genius so fucking stupid. But the guy did (allegedly) throw it in Uma Thurman, and fellas, if this guy can get laid, then it goes without saying that hope spring eternal. So let's give credit where credit is due. Their cover of "Just Like Heaven" is pretty riffy, featuring all the usual Mascis tricks (new wave shimmer next to garbage truck distortion.) and Barlow hilariously shouting NO throughout the chorus.

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Tune in next week for more objective criticism of badass riffzzz and sickass dunkzzz

Wha'Happened!?!

Wha'Happened indeed!

See this is always the way with blogs and myself. Start one up, lose interest. It's a vicious cycle, to be sure.

So, dear reader(s), where have I been for the past five months you ask? Well there was the move to Somerville, the market tanking, Obama,the job search, the lady's birthday, trivia, the market tanking some more, Sarah Palin, a few bikes, Obama, temping, leaving the messenger industry, some more job search, birthdays, karaoke nights, sleeping, eating, OBAMA, sickness, health, RockBand, real band practice, my birthday, dinner parties, and an assortment of other things that you won't find to interesting (mostly involving a busted washing machine and a disinterested landlord).

But I'm back (sort of). I promise I'm going to do a better job keeping up this blog.

One interesting thing that I've done recently is I've submmitted a proposal for 33 1/3. They do open calls every year and a half or so, where at least 50 to 100 people submit proposals for records that were either released either a) less than ten years ago (Animal Collective, the Hold Steady, Girl Talk, etc, etc), b) by the Talking Heads sometime between 1977 and 1983, or c) in such a small quantity that there is legitimate debate as to whether this artist really exsisted. Thrown in there are some actually deserving artists that deserve to be written about. Here's an excerpt from mine of The Nation of Ulysses' Plays Pretty for Baby:

What ultimately makes Plays Pretty for Baby an interesting and worthwhile record though is the profusion of ideas that run through it. It works on so many different levels that one can never grow tired of listening. On one level, the record is a tongue-in-cheek send-up of the early 1990s indie scene. The often hysterically funny youth revolt jive talk in both their lyrics and liner notes can be seen as a poke in the eye of hardcore and punk’s (especially the D.C. punk scene) often overly sanctimonious peachiness. On another level the record is a fiery protest record, with both barrels aimed at a politically bankrupt society. The song “The Kingdom of Heaven Must Be Taken By Storm” isn’t so much a metaphor for rebellion so much as a blue print. Yet on another level the record is a Situationist critique on political radicalism itself, turning their efforts at subversion into a cryptic spectacle of abandon. As their liner notes point out:

Political Objectives/Target Audiences: Wreck society through direct action by destroying its institutions and the men who serve it, and by relying on the people's forces to spread the doctrines of "P-Power" and "Ragnarok." To consolidate the New Nation, while never forgetting the need for constant purging, as the nation shall resemble a self-cleaning oven.

On the one hand, the band was dead serious. On the other they’re laughing all the way to their graves.

Additionally, The Nation of Ulysses articulated the idea of a rock band as something more than just a band while simultaneously lampooning the idea. The Clash presented their band as a romantic group of outsider ruffians and early Scritti Politti dabbled with the concept of band as collective, but the NoU took these ideas to their logical conclusion by declaring themselves a sovereign political entity and even going so far as to announce their succession from the United States of America. As Svenonius noted in an early interview, “The Nation of Ulysses is basically about a shout of secession. We don't want to be involved with the United States and the structure that exists. We've introduced a whole new form of currency that takes its form in garbage.” This sense of band as a nation, diametrically opposed to the United States, in many ways provided a tangible spiritual connection to the black culture they celebrated, from Parliament/Funkadelic to the Black Panthers as well as a tongue in cheek critique of rock bands as rebellious figures. What could be more rebellious (or more ridiculous) than a sovereign nation that supports Latin American guerrilla movements such as the Shining Path and declared American youth to be an oppressed class?

Do I think it has a chance in hell of making it? Maybe, I don't know. Two people in the comments section have noted that they'd buy it (Bill Fox notwithstanding), with another noting that there needs to be more punk rock repped. I'm debating making some sort of comment, but I think I'll withhold. I think it could sell alot of books, especially if marketed through Dischord, where there is a built in audience for stuff they've released over the years. In anycase, I think it would be an interesting and fun experience.

Oh and if you have any comments about my proposal, I'd love to hear them.

Other than that, I'm back to my day job: fearlessly dicking around on the internet and occasionally doing some research for a certain academic.

AdBusters is on the front lines fighting the good fight against nothing.

God, stress is a bitch. Between finding a new apartment (taken care of!) and finding a new job (eh...), I haven't had anytime to do anything remotely interesting. Ok, that isn't true. The lady and I took at trip to Upstate New York, which was nice (although after being whipped around on an inner tube at about 40mph my arms are ready to fall off). I decided to take the day off today to focus on the job hunt. It has obviously denigrated to me complaining about things here.

Which brings us to this absolutely redundant cannonball of a tirade from AdBusters against (wait for it...): hipsters.

I'm sorry, is it 2001 and we're still listening to Peaches and still think Williamsburg is all the rage?


There are a couple of problems with this article. One is the very obvious fact that AdBusters seemed to forget its target audience. That's right, the same hipsters who read Vice and Wallpaper are also reading, you guessed it!, AdBusters.

The second problem is that rather than probe for why it is that "hipster" culture has become the dominant stance of twentysomething counterculture, Douglass Haddow seems only interested in formulating a condemnation of this cultural phenomenon. Rather than attempting to address the reasons for hipsters relative lack of political engagement and tendancy toward debauchery and excess, he seems only interested in pointing out their lack of concern for the world around them and their innate solipsism. Take for example, his truly hilarious description of a "hipster party."

"Perhaps the true motivation behind this deliberate nonchalance is an attempt to attract the attention of the ever-present party photographers, who swim through the crowd like neon sharks, flashing little blasts of phosphorescent ecstasy whenever they spot someone worth momentarily immortalizing.

Noticing a few flickers of light splash out from the club bathroom, I peep in only to find one such photographer taking part in an impromptu soft-core porno shoot. Two girls and a guy are taking off their clothes and striking poses for a set of grimy glamour shots. It’s all grins and smirks until another girl pokes her head inside and screeches, “You’re not some club kid in New York in the nineties. This shit is so hipster!” – which sparks a bit of a catfight, causing me to beat a hasty retreat.

In many ways, the lifestyle promoted by hipsterdom is highly ritualized. Many of the party-goers who are subject to the photoblogger’s snapshots no doubt crawl out of bed the next afternoon and immediately re-experience the previous night’s debauchery. Red-eyed and bleary, they sit hunched over their laptops, wading through a sea of similarity to find their own (momentarily) thrilling instant of perfected hipster-ness."

Was Haddow wearing a fucking pith helmet while attending this party? It honestly reads like an early 19th century travelogue.

Finally, Haddow makes the mistake that all cultural commentators have made for the past 50 years and that is that he assumes that hipsters as a youth phenomenon are inferior because they are the here and now and as a result lack some sort of vetting or authenticity. Hipsters may represent the latest incarnation of youth counter-culture but they are certainly not the end run. He accuses them of merely latching on to other fragments of culture and in turn rendering these fragments (such as the keffiyeh, PBR, fixed gear track bikes, et at al) meaningless. Has this man ever read Norman Mailer's "The White Negro?" White youth culture has been stealing from black culture since at least 1945.

All in all, rather than attempt to offer explanations or even alternatives for hipster culture (maybe, just maybe, hipster culture is a reaction to a world that, in the wake of Bush, Iraq, 9/11, the sub-prime crisis, etc, appears to be falling apart. Similar to what occurred in Europe following WWI), Haddow merely brow-beats their supposed lack of concern for anything. In doing so he offers absolutely nothing new to the dialog.

Duly Noted

Brian over at Celebrate the Body Electric goes deep and comes out with a pretty good piece on the resurgence of vinyl in mainstream outlets.

Other than that though its been quiet on the western front here at Oh Shit History. A potentially deadly blunder from the New Yorker ignites a shit-storm of accusations from places like DailyKos.com, while the rest of America wonders why they ain't never heard of this fancy-schmancy New Yorker magazine.

And so the job and apartment hunt continues. Some pieces lined up (i.e. yet to be written) that I'll talk more about here when the time comes.

In the meantime, feel free to peruse my high school dean of discipline's church. No. I am not making that up.

Gimme Pete Wentz Approved No Age

Two cannonballs into the void today. One a misty-eyed remembrance of financial instability from the founders of Sub Pop, and a fairly upbeat celebration of selling out, err, I mean "buying in" from my friend Brian over at Celebrate the Body Electric.

The back and forth argument over whether or not indie is allowed to make money, and finally pay off those student loans thanks to a nice cash infusion from Outback Steakhouse is one that I'm not particularly interested in joining. And far, far better and more lucid dissections of the debate can be found on Chris Ott's excellent blog, Shallow Rewards (sadly it seems as though fatherhood and other "grown up" responsibilities have prevented Chris from writing lately. The last post is a strong refutation of the Joy Division nostalgia express.).

Both these items bring up an interesting point, which is that Indie is essentially a highly potent marketing term. Bruce Pavitt, in a seemingly incongruous statement for someone who's business plan included at one point "World Domination", notes:

"Indie rock is very healthy, there's a lot of diversity and a lot of creativity, but it does not have the revolutionary spirit of the late-70s punk scene in regards to design and politics and fashion and stuff like that. I really miss that, and I'm looking forward to a youth musical cultural scene that's a little more revolutionary, where indie bands aren't vying for McDonald's commercial spots. I think, politically, the scene's got pretty watered down. There are economic opportunities for many people, but I don't think, artistically, it's as revolutionary as that particular period."

Easy for someone who lives on a small island in the Pacific Northwest to say! Essentially, Bruce is trying to pad his legacy. Sub Pop was, and still is (despite a rather lackluster period in the late 90s) a hugely important force in alternative music, but for them to whine and bitch that maybe the music isn't as revolutionary as it once was is just hitting the broad side of the barn.

Meanwhile, on much more "posicore" note, Brian (who's blog really is excellent and who is a stand-up guy who is totally not going to hate me for calling him out on this) sounds the "can't we all just get along" alarm in a celebration of No Age. At this point, its ridiculous to call No Age an "indie" band, despite the fact that they record for Sub Pop, technically an independent label. But like Interpol before them, No Age are straddling that often uncomfortable line of huge on the coasts, but utterly unknown in between. Still, in a show of "I paid attention in Kindergarten", Brian celebrates the (partial) ascension of bands like No Age and the culture they represent.

"It would be easy to say that the band has been “selling out,” but to use another cliche, maybe more and more people are “buying in.” There is nothing wrong with a band finding success and despite the oddity of finding them featured in a relatively mainstream spotlight, I can’t help but think how cool it is that “alternative culture” is being brought to the front lines. I don’t subscribe to the idea of exclusivity and preserving the underground nature of anything. While it’s nice having things to yourself, wouldn’t you want to share with others? I find that to be so much more satisfying."

Brian also aims for the broad side and scores a direct hit. "Indie", as a both a musical and cultural stance, is dead and gone. The fact is that now more than ever Indie has become nothing more than a t-shirt (or perhaps in this case a pair of skinny jeans) that one wears when one feels inclined. Appropriation and acceptance by the masses is not something to be scorned, but rather celebrated. The sweat and the fear are gone and your parents drive you to the bad part of town to see No Age now. One need only watch (horrified) the BBC series "Switch" to see how much indie and youth culture in general have become codified and stilted.