streaming. but wait...WHY didn't I do this before?

in which we discuss my dinosaurian ways.

Ok. I know this is going to sound really, REALLY weird, but I still listen to albums. Actual, full-length, albums. And in one sitting.

And even weirder? I still buy them. Not just singles. But whole albums.

I know. I KNOW! I think it is in part because I am a child of the 80s. You know, back when albums actually meant something and they weren't just really two or three strong singles with 7-10 filler songs thrown in for good measure.

Not that I'm bitter or anything.

For this reason, I strongly resisted streaming services for music. (That, and the whole Napster thing back in the late 90s. When it was a file sharing service? The thing that only gets two lines in its Wikipedia entry, which is just weird, because it was this big huge scandal... I'm digressing. Amazing that my parenthetical aside ends up longer than the point I was making in the first place.)

I mean, yes, I was an early Pandora adopter. And an early Pandora abandoner (sorry, Pandora). I just didn't get that with these streaming services you could actually listen to whole entire albums, and it wasn't illegal, and you could do it as much as you wanted, and you could actually download the songs to your phone to play while you were underground on the subway, and that it wasn't just a stream of random shitty songs that you didn't want to listen to in the first place and you didn't have to sit through hours of ads, and you had unlimited skips, etc.

Consequently, it wasn't until this year that I finally signed up for a streaming service (Google Play, to be exact. Mostly because I am an all Android girl, (woman. adult female human. person. whatever) and because it was convenient), and started using the heck out of it.

I've been using my streaming thingy as a way to further my education in country music. Because I don't know jackall about it, and while I have enjoyed it from time to time over the years, never really got around to listening to anything because I didn't know what CD to buy. And everything they were playing on country radio at the time was kind of crap. (to be fair, everything that is ever played on the radio is kind of crap. I HATE not having control over what I'm listening to. I may like a song, but if I'm not in the mood to listen to it, then I hate it at that moment, and it ruins it, and oh my god, I'm a whiny little bitch sometimes. jesus)

Which is how I discovered that Eric Church's album The Outsiders is one of my favorite albums. Like, ever. It's a thing of beauty. Even if you don't like country, you'll probably dig this one.

And, apparently I am a huge Jason Aldean fan. Which is honestly not something that I ever in a billion years thought I'd say about myself, but there you go. According to that unassailable, and completely reliable source, the internet, Church and Aldean are in a sub-genre called "Bro Country."

Why I'm connecting with "Bro Country" is a bit of a mystery, as sitting around in pickup trucks drinking beer with hot, tanned girls in cutoffs, under the moonlight by the railroad tracks after spending a day bailing hay is pretty much the opposite of any of my current life experiences. I think we need to have a country song about drinking locally produced artisanal whiskey after spending a long day in your cubicle, and being crushed against strangers' bodies on the subway... ok, so that isn't as romantic. Maybe if you add combing your beard while looking wistfully into a mirror while listening to your neighbors thump around in their apartment above you... probably not. Plus, I'm still female. And mostly straight. So hanging out with hot country girls in cutoffs is probably not going to happen anytime soon.

Today, reviews of Nicki Minaj's The Pinkprint, D'Angelo's Black Messiah, and Charli XCX's Sucker came out in the New York Times. I read the reviews, and then I listened to the albums. Without spending $45 to buy all of them. Which rocks, because I really didn't like two of the three. (that would be Nicki and Charli's albums. D'Angelo is beyond reproach. Pretty much for all time)

And because I'm awesome at getting lost in clickholes, I stumbled across RL Grime's stuff, and will be going to see him in concert. (ok, not to be an asshole, because I really do enjoy techno, or dubstep (which I honestly can't figure out why it's a sub-genre), or EDM or whateverthefuck it is that kids call it these days, but does it count as a concert if they aren't actually playing any instruments? I guess there are some performative aspects to this type of event... fuck if I know. Anyway, I heard his stuff, I liked it, I bought tickets, I coerced my friend into going with me, and I will actually get to see some live(esque) music this year, which is exciting.

I bet THAT's the first time RL Grime and Bro Country have ever been referenced in the same damn piece. Heh.

But seriously, fuck you...

in which we delve into the joys of dance worthy breakup songs.

NOT, mind you, that I'm in any danger of breaking up my romantic relationship at the moment. But sometimes you just need a good jolt of a fuck-you song for whatever reason. Quitting a job. Walking down the street in New York City. Dealing with your student loan companies...

I totally do this dance at work all the time.

One of my favorite things about this particular list is that the fuck you's that I'm about to list come from some of the poppiest artists out there, and ones from whom you wouldn't ordinarily think of for a good break up/brush off song. Except for Pink. For whom it is surprising when she doesn't do a fuck-you song.

Up first is the song that started my most recent collection of songs. Mariah Carey's You Don't Know. Which just has such a fun, upbeat tempo, and entertaining sentiment, that it's been on constant rotation...since the album came out. I'm not wild about the rest of the album, I think it's ok, but this one gets me dancing every time. (maybe with the fluffing of the haters away, as in the video above)

CeeLo, of course, is the master of this type of song, with his perfect, Fuck You (regrettably titled Forget You for the censors):

From the same album, we have Cry Baby. Which has one of my favorite lines "Hate to see you cry/sad to say I've seen it" which he delivers much less nicely than the lyrics read. Also, the video stars Jaleel White (Urkel!) all grown up:

And really, who could forget (ok, probably most people) the Spice Girls' thinly veiled brush off to Ginger Spice, Wasting My Time? Lemme tell ya, Ginger leaving the group rocked my world. Ok, it didn't. And yes, I did actually buy this album, on the day it came out, on CD. Because I'm cool like that.

(no redhead. because, as James Bond has taught us all, redheads can't be trusted)

Whitney. Sigh. Whitney... You were so fucked up, but so brilliant. With the appropriately titled It's Not Right, But It's Ok:

Toni Braxton's He Wasn't Man Enough For Me:

Drama on the dance floor! Many scantily clad men! Kylie Minogue's Get Outta My Way:

Oopsie. Keri Hilson's Beautiful Mistake:

Usher's U Don't Have to Call:

And, of course, I couldn't leave Pink off this list. While she has many, MANY, great fuck you songs, this one is my current favorite:

And, fascinatingly, the Jerkins brothers (Rodney "Darkchild" and Fred "Uncle Freddie" are highly represented on this list, as they did (one or the other, or together), Wasting My Time, It's Not Right, but It's Ok, and He Wasn't Man Enough for Me.

Looking at their list of major singles, it looks like they've also been responsible for fuck off songs by Destiny's Child, Beyonce, and many many others... Heh.

For those about to RAWK...

we say: meh. and maybe shrug a little bit.

In the last month we've had three releases by three bigtime rock(esque) types of peoples: Maroon 5 (really stretching it here, but whatevs), U2 and Lenny Kravitz.

And lemme tell ya, I'm underwhelmed. I feel like it is saying a lot when Maroon 5's album is the most listenable.

To be fair, on the day that Apple shoved U2's album, Songs of Innocence, down our throats, (not that I'm bitter or anything) Google Play had Demi Lovato's album for free. I got all the way through U2's. I got two songs into Demi's before I tore off my headphones and started swearing in the middle of the street. Because yes, I'm that crazy person.

Not shiny.

I guess to some extent my expectations are too high. I haven't really liked a U2 album since Pop (and I know I'm the outlier on that one, but it truly is one of my favorites), I haven't really liked a Lenny Kravitz album since Are You Gonna Go My Way  and, well, never mind, I don't have any expectations for Maroon 5. Pop and Are You Gonna Go My Way came out in 1997 and 1993, respectively. Which is, like, 20 years ago.

Shinier.

It's not that I don't like Maroon 5. I think they're fine. I actually own all of their albums, and I've really adored a number of their singles (and other songs that weren't released as singles). I find them enjoyable, but they don't really inspire any sort of passion in me. I've never listened to any of their albums on constant rotation, but I never skip their songs when I hit shuffle on my phone's music library. I hesitated to include them in this post, because I think the most rock thing about Maroon 5 is Adam Levine's tendency to date Victoria's Secret models, but I figured it'd be a good comparison point.

Shiniest.

Maroon 5 departed from their norm on this album a little bit, in that in a number of spots it sounds like Levine is imitating Rhianna, and some of the songs are much darker than usual. But overall, it was a solidly poppy collection, with some fun thrown in there, AND, amazingly enough, a ballad that didn't immediately make me want to put my fist through the nearest sensitive guy with a guitar. (also, the New York Times review of this album made me laugh. A lot. Out loud) But what does it mean that in order to sound "fresh" the band is copying much younger artists? That they're using the beats and the productions of today in order to give their music a little bit of a sheen? (is this the musical equivalent of plastic surgery?)

What it really comes down to is relevancy. The latest U2 and Kravitz albums sound like retreads of their previous work. Is that really relevant in the current music climate? Does relevancy matter if an artist is departing from their norm? Does relevancy matter if people still like the artist's music, regardless of whether or not it is innovative or a retread?

I know I've covered this subject before, but it's something that I struggle with mightily. If an artist that I have loved quite a bit in the past is simply doing what they did before, and I end up bored shitless with their new material, how do I handle the reconciliation of the new boringness with the old awesomeness? If all an artist is doing is rehashing their stuff, does that mean that they've sold out for the guarantee of continued commercial success, and should I support that? (or, you know, if they're aping the contemporary music scene)

I HUNGER FOR THE NEW, PEOPLE! I love the creative and the unique. I want something new for my earholes. And my brain. RAR.

I'm so judging myself right now

We went to see the raccoon movie this weekend. Apparently it’s called “Guardians of the Galaxy” or some such nonsense, but really, I was in it for the raccoon with a machine gun. And it was totally worth the price of admission.

Music (on cassette tapes, no less) was a major plot point of the film, which made me super happy. And it was 70s era soft rock and a little R&B thrown in for good measure which…

This shit was the bane of my existence throughout my childhood, teen years, and early adulthood. Whenever I hung out with my friends, their parents frequently had this crap on the stereo.

It became the muzak that tortured me wherever I went. It was hell. It was so…fluffy. I was convinced that Lionel Richie was Satan (jury is still out). I was sure that this music was the soundtrack of every conversion-van driving child molester. It was the musical equivalent of a porn ‘stache. It was aural tight, high-waisted polyester bellbottoms that were flattering on no-one. It was Lawrence Welk for the wife-swapping generation. Toothless pap! Opium for the personality-less masses!

I’d hear the opening strains of Escape (The Pina Colada Song) and I’d start having massive fits. Out loud. In public. At work (where I found out I was not alone in my hatred of this song. see, bad behavior sometimes does reap rewards. I found a support group).

It’s not even that I was a proponent of the whole Disco Sucks movement. I have always had some appreciation for disco. I’m a huge fan of funk (sorry, y'all, Easy very nearly ruined the Commodores for me, for forever). I adore all hard rock and punk from that era. It really just was something about the pop rock/soft rock moment that set me off. Similarly, I hated the singer-songwriter musicians of the era.

And then…something happened. I can’t even pinpoint when, or what, it was. I think maybe I was kidnapped by aliens. Possibly it was the massive head wound I sustained in my mid-20s. But I started to really dig other 70s stuff.

(my inner teen is howling with rage right now, and is trying to force me to put on some punk to cleanse)

I KNOW! What is wrong with me? At least with my completely irrational love of shitty pop music, I can pretend that it’s irony. Or an appreciation of the surreal. Or something.

After we got home from the raccoon movie, I immediately looked up the soundtrack, discovered that it is number 1 on the Amazon charts (at least), and immediately set out to make myself a playlist, building off the songs I liked from the film.

A soundtrack hasn’t captured my imagination this much since Garden State.

For the purposes of this post, I'll stick to some of my absolute favorites. I may publish my full list on a page on the blog, eventually. You may recognize snippets of many of these songs, as they've been sampled half to death by contemporary rap and R&B artists, but I still love em.

Of course we have the awesome Shuggie Otis. Who I was lucky enough to see live last year in Brooklyn.

Here’s his Strawberry Letter 23:

Strawberry Letter 23 was covered by The Brothers Johnson, who did another favorite of mine, I'll Be Good To You:

Bobby Caldwell's, What You Won't Do For Love:

I first heard of Bill Withers, from his song Lean on Me, which was the title song for an 80s movie of the same name, but I much prefer Use Me:

And there's America (the band). Most people know A Horse With No Name, but I've always liked Ventura Highway:

Rickie Lee Jones, Chuck E's in Love:

War, Lowrider:

Earth, Wind & Fire, September:

Kool & The Gang, Summer Madness (seriously, this song has been in what feels like every 70s movie, every movie about the 70s, and used every time somebody  just wants to evoke the 70s.):

Looking Glass, Brandy:

Stevie Wonder, I Wish:

Redbone, Come and Get Your Love. I know. It was on the raccoon movie soundtrack. whatever, I still love it:

Los Amigos Invisibles, In love With You:

ok, so that last one isn't from the 70s, but it fits with the theme, right?

Just two more. I swear:

Marvin Gaye, Let's Get it On:

Parliament, P-Funk:

That's all for now folks.

Please, leave me your suggestions for awesome 70s-ness in the comments.

I love you more...

...since I did the week before I discovered alcohol

I got inspired.

By my favorite drug.

Which is responsible for so much inspiration. Or whatever it is the kids call it these days.

Gogol Bordello

Brad Paisley

Barenaked Ladies

Dropkick Murphys

Sisyphus

The Kinks

And, you know, to offset all the quality above, I offer you:

Pitbull

And to finish it off (but no longer with alcohol in the title):

The Dead Kennedys

and I, ladies and gentlemen, am going to go drink.

it's un-american

and I like it.

so recently (and by recent, I mean since the advent of something that I can't actually remember sometime within the last two decades), I've been listening to rap from overseas. I listen to American rap as well, but I've been enjoying what other countries are doing to the art form. Not, mind you, that I claim to be an expert on it or anything.

(I don't know what art is, but I know what I like?)

In keeping with my quirks, I enjoy some of the more surreal shit that's out there. A perennial favorite (with me & my kid anyway) is Die Antwoord. They are a South African pair (sorta maybe a trio), that is part of the Zef movement, which I'm not even going to bother to attempt to define, because, well, I can't. I'm not there, I'm not part of the culture, I have, maybe, a  2% grasp of what it's about, and I'm not even going to try. The other day in Soho (NYC), I saw an aspiring model type coming out of a casting call (with a group of other aspiring model types), carrying a status bag, fancy shoes on her feet, wearing a stocking cap with "Zef" embroidered on it. Cracked me the hell up.

Here's one of my favorites from them, the deliciously disturbing "I Fink U Freeky" (which was alternating with "Call Me Maybe" two years ago, which made for a delightfully fucked up summer.)

From Sweden, we have Yung Lean, who I've been following for a little while after accidentally stumbling across him on YouTube. Or maybe not so accidentally. I mean, my algorithm on google has been totally screwed by searching for random things like images of dolphin vaginas, amputee porn, pili multigemini and Jennifer Lopez, so why the hell wouldn't YouTube suggest Yung Lean for me? Anyway, he just got a writeup in the New York Times and has apparently now played two sold out shows in NYC, which I've managed to be too busy to track lately (you may have noticed my long absence from the blog. stupid day jobs). I would have been really fascinated to observe the crowd at these concerts.

Yung Lean has some pretty damn surreal lyrics, although he seems much more conventional with the production on his music and in his videos than Die Antwoord. This is his latest video, Yoshi City:

And I have to contrast the artists I mention above with Iggy Azalea. Who is uber-commercial. In fact, I'm rather torn about her, given my whole non-ironic love of commercial pop music. She's Australian. She's blond. She's rapping in a very distinctly African-American style (and accent). Her lyrics can be good, or they can be crap, much like this line from "Fancy" that drives me batshit every time I hear it:

"I could hold you down, like I'm givin' lessons in physics"

What does that even mean? 

To pose a few questions: is this actually co-opting on her part? What does it mean when a white woman from Australia comes to the US and finds commercial success through a historically black art-form, that was born of the impoverished inner-city areas here? I guess versions of this question have probably been wrestled with enough, especially after Macklemore took the Grammy over Kendrick Lamar earlier this year. Or since Miley Cyrus started twerking. It's also worth noting that the other artists mentioned above are white, however, I suppose I question them less, as they're maybe adding their own take on the art form, rather than just parroting it? But I don't think that's really fair to Izzy, who I think has a fair measure of talent. Which makes me the asshole. (It's a state I'm comfortable with)

In that vein, I offer you Pu$$y, which I find...mindlessly offensive from a racial standpoint, but I like the song (if the video gets taken down, it's probably up elsewhere, and is googleable):

far cry from Fancy:

Has there been an outcry against her? I haven't been paying attention at all lately.

domo arigato

Mr. Roboto. Because I'm timely like that. That's how we deviants roll, yo.

Maybe its my disaffected teenager-hood, but I've always been a sucker for a good song about being a robot. Android. Cyborg. Whatever.

Which brings us to the best album about being a robot released in 2013. Ra Ra Riot's Beta Love has to be head and shoulders above the other albums about being a robot in 2013. (I have no idea if there were any others) I heard it, and it was love. And I listened to it over and over and over and...

Then I tortured my then seven-year-old daughter by forcing her to listen to the first track, Dance With Me and/or singing it to her constantly. Especially because, like her deviant parent, she can be a wee little Eeyore.

So picking her up from school, it was "how was your day, kid?" With the reply "it wasn't that great" at which point I'd break into song "oh I most/ I mostly had a good day/ it wasn't that great." I think she knows all the words to the song know. Heh.

But I digress. I love this album. That's really my point. And I've been living with it for a while. Listened to it in all sorts of conditions (except Brooklyn. I refuse to listen to this album in Brooklyn. Except for this past Sunday. I feel a little bit too hipstery driving around BK with this album on). It holds up. Favorite track, by far, is I Shut Off, which speaks deeply to my little melodramatic heart happy. 

Moving right along, my favorite song about being a robot has to be Robyn's Fembot. Which I don't know that I should actually write anything about it. I should just post the video. (ok, the video is merely ok. The song, however, is freakin brilliant). Once you go tech, y'all...

And lastly, this brings us to this Daft Punk thing that happened.

Which, because I'm tired, warrants a list:

1. I love the fact that all of these critics and the Grammys voters and everybody else who is highbrow and HAS OPINIONS ABOUT MUSIC THAT ARE CORRECT creamed themselves over this album. But if it had been released two to five years ago, would have been laughed out of existence. Heh. It's got some very Trans-Siberian Orchestra moments on it. 
2. I don't count this as an album about being a robot. Because I think it's really an album about being human by two guys who are either robots, or just really really want to be. (or like the masks. I don't judge...much)
3. It's pretty awesome. (the album. also the masks. I'm a little jealous of the masks. but given that I am now the proud owner of a gorilla suit, I think I can hold off on a robot suit for a while. Instead of going for the future in my costumes, I'm definitely regressing.)
4. Get Lucky is not the best track on the album. I'm not sure what is yet, but Get Lucky isn't it. Don't get me wrong, it's a fun track. I like it. It has Pharrell, and he is magic.
5. Maybe it is Lose Yourself to Dance. Which has the magic Pharrell AND freakin Nile Rogers.

Nile Rogers, kids, is, to put him into context, the OG Pharrell. He's responsible for producing EVERYTHING, and had a pretty excellent hit or two with his band, Chic, back in the day:

But enough about robots. I'm going to bed. Recharging is necessary.