MOG - brendanhalpin's Posts

Dance in the Dark of Night, Sing to the Morning Light

brendanhalpin — Fri, 06 Jun 2008 15:02:24 GMT

Yeah, I've been away from MOG for a while. I was playing Prospero in an innovative production. Here is a picture of the venue:

Annnyway, I have no MP3s at work and Rhapsody is blocked, and my time at home is now devoted almost entirely to children's soccer, but I did manage to get out of the house last night to see Alison Krauss and Robert Plant at Boston's Harborlights Pavilion.

Now, though I rarely see live music these days (Ozzfest last August was my last live show), I've seen a lot of concerts in my life, and this was really something special. I walked out of there feeling like it was a privilege to have been able to be there.

I mean, by the end of most concerts, even the really good ones, I usually end up feeling like, "okay, that's really enough." (Full disclosure--when I saw the Pixies in 05, I actually felt that way before the end--it was about 2/3 of the way through, when they played "Crackity Jones.")

After two hours of Robert Plant and Alison Krauss, (with a crack band led by T-Bone Burnett), I felt like I would have been happy to stay there all night.(full disclosure--I, like about half the crowd, was in the bathroom for T-Bone's two solo numbers, neither of which was his classic "The Strange Case of Frank Cash and the Morning Paper.")

But on to the music. They played most of the album Raising Sand (which is fantastic and which you should download immediately, though if you can find some bootleg live recordings of this tour, that's probably even better) and, as on the album, they sound fantastic together. It's a combination that sounds weird when you hear about it and perfect when you actually hear it.

And it was really magical live--you could tell from the energy on the stage that this is a group of people that really enjoys making music together. (and you can also tell simply by Robert Plant's participation. There may be other reasons why it didn't happen, but he certainly could have been playing stadiums on a Led Zep reuinion tour for untold millions of dollars, and instead was playing small (for him) venues behind a Rounder records release.)

I haven't always been crazy about Alison Krauss's choice of material, but her voice is a national treasure. It is both awe inspiring and colossally unfair that one person should be such a gifted singer and a gifted fiddler (when she played the fiddle, I was reminded of Prince playing guitar--it just seemed like it was an extension of her body rather than an instrument she was playing), and she got a lot of time singing by herself, occasionally with Robert Plant at the back of the stage providing backup vocals.

During one such moment, as she was singing "Down in the River to Pray" or whatever that song from the O Brother soundtrack is called, some drunk guy staggered up to me and said, "What the hell is this shit? Where's the Led Zeppelin?!" "You, sir, are an idiot," I replied, when I was sure he was out of earshot.

But there was some Led Zeppelin. "Black Dog", done as a duet in a kind of slow blues style, was awesome. "Battle of Evermore" was also phenomenal, as was "When the Levee Breaks." Even Plant's solo "In the Mood", which I've never liked before, worked in this setting with this band and these voices. They also saluted the late Bo Diddley with a killer version of "Who Do You Love."

Speaking of voices, Plant's is in surprisingly good shape. I guess he probably doesn't have the range he used to, but his vocal tone is fantastic. And he's still a rock and roll showman at heart. He was able to be a generous duet partner, but on a couple of numbers when it was really time to rock, he grabbed the mike stand and took command of the stage in a way that only a few frontmen can do. And the guy is like 60.

There's a reason that so many religious services include music. It has the power to move you in a way that transcends the ordinary. (I felt this way several times when the music was so beautiful it almost hurt to listen to it.)

I know many moggers will understand what I mean when I say for me, music has really become the bedrock of my spiritual life, providing a feeling of connection to my fellow beings and possibly even something greater than us in a way that religion hasn't been able to do for me.

I know it's tremendously uncool to admit to being so moved by a concert, but this was really a spiritual experience for me. It's a memory I'm going to treasure for a long time.

A lot of concerts make me nostalgic for my lost youth, but this one made me happy that I'm old enough to really appreciate what was happening. "Come back and see us again," Plant said at the end of the night, "we'll be around for a while."

I certainly hope so.

A Guilty Pleasure

brendanhalpin — Tue, 22 Apr 2008 11:03:00 GMT

Yeah, I know what you're thinking ('cause I have powers!): it's something along the lines of "O Dear God! If Count Smokula is one of his proud pleasures, what could a guilty one be?"

Well, it could be this slice of '90's cheese I heard last night, the last, dying gasp of the AOR radio format. (remember that? It used to be all you could listen to!)

Oh, there's plenty to hate here: the vocal-and-drum-only part so the guitar player and bassist can clap their hands over their heads and encourage the audience, the meaningless, up-with-people chorus, and the fact that it was covered by execrable pop country outfit Rascal Flatts.

And yet, I love it. In fact, I wanna ride it all night long.

Die, You Zombie Bastards!

brendanhalpin — Thu, 17 Apr 2008 01:41:03 GMT

Last October, I wrote a lot of posts about music that was, in one way or another, horror-related. Yet only recently have I seen straight into the black heart of evil, only recently have my ears burned with the sounds that make Satan himself scream, only recently have I discovered the perfect, hair-raising, sphincter-clenching horror that is the music of Count Smokula.

Press the red button---if you dare!

Three for One

brendanhalpin — Mon, 07 Apr 2008 23:06:07 GMT

It's hard for music geeks to get passionate about music that's actually popular. We tend to get passionate about these bands that seem to speak to us but not to other people in adolescence, and this habit sticks with us. Thus we complain when a band that was formerly "ours" gets popular--they sold out, we cry, when what we really mean is "liking this band no longer identifies me as a cool outsider!"

(Exception--we can also get passionate about pre-fab pop music, but this is usually a pose struck to infuriate our fellow music geeks. "Oh, that new Britney Spears album is brilliant," we say, confident that we'll annoy the hell out of the guy who thinks that adjective can only be applied to Dylan records.)

So whenever the next Clap Your Hands Say Yeah (remember them? Me neither! I think they're working at the same Quiznos as The Polyphonic Spree) comes along, the mog and blog o spheres will be all abuzz with the discovery of a band fundamentally designed to be unpopular, and meanwhile, right under our noses, U2 keeps chugging along year after year churning out good-to-great records.

I'm guilty of this as well--I've only owned one U2 album, which I actually stole from my mom (long story, but it's in my memoir It Takes a Worried Man), and I listened to it so much during a horrible time in my life that I can't stand to listen to it anymore. And why own any others, when at least three formats of radio station kick out a U2 song several times a day?

And the song that probably comes up more than any other is "One". I suppose it is their greatest hit. And, like "Satisfaction" and "Stairway to Heaven" and all those other songs that I've heard more times than any pop song should ever be heard, I should be sick of it. But I'm not. In fact, I'm here to say, as uncool as it may be, this is an incredibly good song.

Witness the three versions associated with this post. (One is a cover, and two have members of the band associated with them, so I'm not sure if they count as covers or not, but anyway). In each of these versions, the singer manages to make the song sound like it was written for them. This may be just because Johnny Cash, Michael Stipe, and Mary J. Blige are (or, you know, were) gifted singers, but I think it's because the song is so damn good that a pretty wide variety of talents can find enough of themselves in it to really make it their own.

Here's Michael Stipe & Friends:

And here's U2 with Mary J. Blige. This one's really worth watching to the end because she completely tears the roof off the sucker.

The button gives you Johnny Cash, whose version was recommended to me by a helpful record store clerk. (Yes, young moggers, there once was such a place as a record store and such a thing as a helpful clerk! True!)

Bring The Snark!

brendanhalpin — Sat, 22 Mar 2008 02:13:51 GMT

So I'm innocently browsing through this week's EW, trying to get the scoop on all the returning TV shows I don't actually watch (Why do I do this? I skip over articles that don't immediately look gripping in the New Yorker, and only rarely discover them weeks later if the issue's been residing on the back of the toilet long enough, whereas I read EW cover to cover every week, even when it's about Ugly Betty. And it's always about Ugly Betty.), when what should I find but a digest-sized insert: "The Indie Rock 25" It's their picks of the best indie rock albums from each of the last 25 years, one album per year. Why are they doing this? We have no idea, except it seems to have something to do with a lot of Toyota Yaris ads.

Of course the list is badly flawed because I didn't write it. I don't have the energy to research my own list, so I'm just going to bitch about theirs. Here it is, with my comments where I have them.

2008: Radiohead, In Rainbows. Okay, my first problem. It's March, people. You can't pick album of the year yet. I've never been part of the Radiohead cult, and what I've read about it and heard of it haven't convinced me. The reviews have all pretty much amounted to "It doesn't suck as much as the last two," and the two tracks I've heard were "Arpeggi," which sounds like second-rate Yes, and "Body Snatchers," which is one of those riffs without a song attached things that Queens of the Stone Age and pretty much nobody else can get away with.

2007: Spoon, Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga. I don't really have an alternative candidate, and I like "The Underdog" a lot, but I'm against albums with such dumb titles on principle. Reminds me of Queen's "Radio Ga Ga," and that's not a pleasant memory.

2006: The Hold Steady, Boys and Girls in America. Fuck. In. A. Great record.

2005:Bright Eyes, I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning. Never got this guy. Just don't get him at all.

2004: Arcade Fire, Funeral. Nope. Not buyin'.

2003: The White Stripes. Elephant. Damn Right. My favorite of their records. (Yes, it is too better than White Blood Cells--far fewer clunkers.)

2002: Interpol, Turn on the Bright Lights. I dunno--I've heard a few songs by this band and been unimpressed.

2001: The Shins, Oh Inverted World. I'll have to take their word for it for 97 through about 2003. Because of the whole Newborn, Toddler, Wife with Cancer thing I didn't pay close attention to what was happening in "indie rock" during these years.

2000: Yo La Tengo, And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside Out.

1999: Sleater-Kinney, The Hot Rock. Okay, I do have to say something here. I mean, I'm male, but an angry woman screaming at me just doesn't constitute entertainment.

1998: Neutral Milk Hotel, In The Aeroplane Over The Sea. I'm profoundly suspicious of a band with a name this stupid, and the precious spelling of Aeroplane makes me doubly suspicious.

1997:Modest Mouse, Lonesome Crowded West.

1996:Belle and Sebastian, If You're Feeling Sinister. I'm glad to see B&S represented, but I like Boy With The Arab Strap better.

1995:Archers of Loaf, Vee Vee. See stupid band names, and stupid album names, above.

1994: Guided By Voices, Bee Thousand. I never really got this band.

1993:Built To Spill, Ultimate Alternative Wavers. Who? What?

1992:Pavement, Slanted and Enchanted. Second most overrated band of the nineties.

1991: My Bloody Valentine, Loveless. I was never a fan of this band, but I applaud EW for not picking Nirvana (most overrated band of the nineties) for this year. I think I woulda picked Too Much Joy's Cereal Killers for this year.

1990: Fugazi, Repeater. I always felt like I should like this band. Maybe I will someday. I admire them...does that count?

1989: The Pixies, Doolittle. No argument from me here.

1988:Sonic Youth, Daydream Nation. One of those bands I'm supposed to like because of interesting tunings and innovative noise-based crapola.

1987: Dinosaur Jr., You're Living All Over Me. The correct pick for this year is actually Squirrel Bait, Skag Heaven. But, really, this is the year Sign O' The Times and The Lonesome Jubilee, and Diesel and Dust came out, so maybe the best rock wasn't actually indie.

1986:R.E.M. Lifes Rich Pageant. Maybe. I love "Fall on Me," but I find everything between Murmur and Monster pretty uneven, to be honest.

1985:The Smiths, Meat is Murder. I like to see the Smiths making the list, but this isn't actually that good of a record. "How Soon is Now," is great, but otherwise, eh. I like The World Won't Listen best, but I think that's a compilation, but then again, aren't like half of the Smiths' albums compilations?

1984: The Replacements, Let it Be. I'm okay with this pick if you're gonna follow their stupid one album per year rule, but this year had Zen Arcade and Double Nickels on the Dime as well as this.

Whew! Being nasty about other people's work is tiring!

Welcome Back

brendanhalpin — Mon, 17 Mar 2008 02:08:28 GMT

Hey there, Mogosphere! I've been away for a while because I've returned to real work, and I've barely even had time to walk the dog, let along Mogify.

I've returned to teaching. Not at the high school level, but working with 18-24 year old urban high school grads learning to work in investments and high tech. I'm teaching them how to write better, or as I like to say, more good.

I did this for a number of reasons. To wit: 1.)My world had gotten really small. I was tired of not really seeing anybody, of not feeling like it really mattered on a day to day basis whether I worked or not, and of not having the opportunity to exchange ideas with anyone face-to-face.

2.)Writing wasn't paying the bills, and I was spending way too much energy fretting about the financial mess I was in and all of the things that weren't happening with my books rather than appreciating everything that is happening. The business part was starting to suck the fun out of what is a really fun job. Now I can put envy aside for a while (though, come on, it's never far away) and focus on gratitude. Like for the fact that my pseudonymous horror novel has the greatest, most kickass cover of all time. Check it out here

3.)I missed it really badly. I've found that, professionally speaking, I'm good at 2 things: writing and teaching. I spent the last 4 and a half years writing exclusively, and there was a whole part of me that was feeling really undernourished.

I'm very happy because I'm working in a great place with great people and students who want to be there and have made pretty inspirational choices to change their lives.

And now that writing is my second job, I'm thinking it's going to get more fun again. I'm still working out how to get everything done in a day, but that will fall into place.

I still need music in my life, and I still like boring people with my opinions, so I'll still be around.

It is Time for an Unweildy Title

brendanhalpin — Tue, 26 Feb 2008 00:42:54 GMT

Lenny Kravitz has long been dismissed by many (unfairly, I think) as overly derivative.

Certainly Lenny's music always sounds, shall we say, familiar, but really there hasn't been anything radically new happening in popular music for a long long time. The last thing I remember hearing that didn't remind me of anything else was "When Doves Cry." Or maybe "Rock Box." In any case, sonic innovation in popular music kind of petered out in the 80's; everybody's ripping off somebody, so quit hating on Lenny. After all, if he were a hip hop producer constructing collages of other people's riffs instead of a songwriter building songs around them, people would call him an innovator.

Having said all that, the familiarity of the sound does make it initially kind of hard to hear the songs on Lenny's new album It Is Time For a Love Revolution. It opens with the track "Love Revolution" (such a concise, easy-to-say title! Why not use it for the whole album? Only Lenny knows for sure.), which is a good song but which borrows so heavily from KISS's "Come on and Love Me" that I was distracted from the song at hand and kept waiting for Lenny to actually proclaim himself a Capricorn. This happened throughout the album the first time I listened to it. "Hey! That's 'American Woman'!" I'd think. (and, I mean, honestly Lenny, you covered that one. You might leave it alone for a while.) "Hey, that's "While My Guitar Gently Weeps!" "Bohemian Rhapsody!" "Funeral for a Friend!" "Calhoun Square!"

As I blared the album from my attic office, I heard my son downstairs begin to sing snippets of classic rock songs the album reminded him of. He was doing this unconsciously and completely unironically.

All this is kind of a shame because there's actually a pretty strong album going on here. It rocks hard throughout, it's occasionally funky, and it mostly avoids what I think has been the biggest pitfall in Lenny's work: the inane lyrics. (Remember "I wish that I could fly/up to the sky/like a dragonfly"?) Lenny's talking about love, regret, faith (of the explicitly Christian variety, which I found somewhat surprising. Admittedly I haven't been following his work very closely, but I think this a new thing.), and even marriage. It's a grown-up album that rocks, which is really all too rare a thing.

In fact, this album reminded me of nothing more than Prince at his rockinest. Think "The Cross." So yeah, it all sounds pretty familiar, but you know what? KISS is retired, Queen is no more (I refuse to recognize any incarnation of that band without Freddy Mercury), and none of the classic rock staples are putting out hard rockin' records about adult concerns these days. If you hate Lenny, this album certainly won't change your mind, but if, like me, you've always had a soft spot for him, this is definitely worth picking up.

Moggers, am I nuts?

brendanhalpin — Sun, 17 Feb 2008 22:31:45 GMT

Okay, so I still haven't replaced my Sirius radio, so I'm at the mercy of awful commercial radio. However, even awful commercial radio sometimes coughs up a gem. Thus, I finally switched the radio away from my girls' choice (Radio Disney, where we play the same 20 songs over and over and over and over!) over to the oldies station, the only one not playing commercials at the time.

And "To Sir With Love" comes on. (Sorry, non-rhapsody-enabled moggers, I don't own this track and so could only add the rhapsody version.) "This is a great song!" I bellowed to the other occupants of the minivan.

"Those schoolgirl dayyyyysss.." Lulu began, and my heart was already melting. Daughter #1 said, "This sucks. Can we go back to Radio Disney?" (As if anything could suck worse than Taylor Swift's "Teardrops on my Guitar". Hoo boy is that awful.)

"Wait for the chorus!" I said, and suddenly the purring verse gave way to the belted chorus, and I looked around the car as I sang along, "If you wanted the sky I would wriiiiite across the sky in letters.."

They all looked at me in horror. I made them listen to the whole song, though my enjoyment of it was muted somewhat by the constant unfounded accusations of suckishness against this fantastic tune.

Well, at least My Lovely Wife was on my side. Except when I changed the station back and the kids all said, "Thank God, that sucked, etc." she too said, "Yeah, that's a horrible song."

So, Moggers, I put it to you: am I nuts? Does "To Sir With Love" actually suck, and I just have a blind spot about odes to teachers, or do I live with a bunch of philistines?

Extreme Music Criticism

brendanhalpin — Fri, 08 Feb 2008 17:59:10 GMT

Just got this tasty bit of spam in my mogmail box:

_Dear,_

_Pls kindlyreply to my private email: ritabenson002@yahoo.fr_

_I know you will be surprise to receive my mail since we have neither seen nor met before.Well, let me start by first introducing myself to you.My name is Rita, the only daughter to Late Mr George Benson.My father was assassinated on his way to his office..._

She's right! I was surprise! I mean, wow. I hate "The Greatest Love of All" too, but this seems a little over the top!

Get Lucky (no, not the Loverboy album)

brendanhalpin — Thu, 07 Feb 2008 17:55:05 GMT

My critical faculties are temporarily out of service. They have been completely undone by the new Nada Surf album, Lucky.

I think they wanted to tell you something about how you can really forget their annoying hit "Popular" of 12 years ago, and something else about how this is a better Teenage Fanclub record than Teenage Fanclub has ever recorded. (And both I and my critical faculties like Teenage Fanclub a lot.)

My critical faculties were trying to get some distance from the music so as to offer a dispassionate appraisal of this album.

But there's nothing dispassionate about my response to this record. I simply love it. For one thing, it's rare that a record is as beautiful as this one. We value a lot of things in popular music: "catchy," "rockin'" "funky" "danceable"; but "beautiful" seldom makes the list. The sound is lush and complex, and the album is crammed to the edges with beauty: melodies, harmonies, backing vocals, cello parts - many tracks are so pretty it almost hurts to listen to them. Even now, as I make swoony goo-goo eyes at my computer while I type this and "See These Bones" plays, I'm getting some very strange looks from my fellow coffee shop patrons. But this is what love does: it makes you ridiculous. (When I reread this in six months, I'm sure I'll be cringing at my earnestness; but, for now, I'm going irony free.)

Of course, the music is only half the story; the lyrics hit me where I live--in that strange bittersweet zone where joy and sadness meet. The album is packed with images of death, loss, and sadness: "just like we are, you'll be dust," "ice is growing on the wings," "everyone's got to leave their love sometime." But this is no mopefest; it's catchy, it rocks, and it proves, in an unassuming, unpretentious way that popular art and great art can be the same thing.

Try To Get Up, They'll Only Knock You Down

brendanhalpin — Sat, 02 Feb 2008 13:23:09 GMT

Here's another little gem freed from its vinyl prison by the USB turntable given me by My Lovely Wife Suzanne.

Looking back now, I don't really know why I bought a country album in 1984. I guess it was because I had this weird competitive streak about discovering new music before anybody else. (O, that led me to a bunch of really terrible purchases, but this wasn't one of them.)

What's weird is that I had no concept of country being cool at all. In 1984, country meant Kenny Rogers to me, but for some reason I bought this album with the cow skull on the cover. Maybe just because it was on Slash records, home of X, the Blasters, and Los Lobos. (Seems kinda quaint now that I would ever buy music based on what label it was on, but there it is.)

Anyway, I really liked this record for a while and then grew tired of it. Looking back now, I can see that this album, with its pedal steel, autoharp, and mandolin, was really instrumental in me overcoming my anti-country prejudice and finding The Carter Family and Hank Williams at times in my life when I really needed music that faced the reality of death rather than just denying it.

Before Steve Earle, before Uncle Tupelo, before anybody had vocalized the idea that country could be "alt", there was Rank and File. Here's the title track from their 1984 album Long Gone Dead. I love the harmonies and the depressing lyrics juxtaposed against the jaunty tune.

Extended Acknowledgment

brendanhalpin — Tue, 29 Jan 2008 17:25:51 GMT

_"Remember that guy in Cincinnati? Karl something? He was in like every band that ever played the Jockey Club!"_

_I remember the guy - Francis is exaggerating, but it is true that he did play bass in at least three bands simultaneously. I am sure I saw him open for himself more than once._

So today's the paperback pub date (as we say in the writing biz) for Long Way Back, and the passage above is my little tribute to my friend Karl Meyer.

I thought it was appropriate to write a somewhat lengthier tribute to Karl here, since he's had more impact on my musical taste than anyone else alive. As far as the book goes, I wouldn't have had half the musical experiences or have listened to half the music that forms the backbone of Long Way Back without Karl.

_And then I see him do something that should embarrass me but instead really touches me. He reaches up and touches, gently and sort of reverently, the top of Dee Dee's black Chuck Taylor high tops._

That's also from the novel, but it's also from my life: crammed against the stage in a shithole club in Newport Kentucky, I reached up and touched Dee Dee Ramone's shoe. (a pretty risky move, since, as I recall, Dee Dee was in a kickin' mood that night and a couple of guys took that shoe to the face after trying to reach up onto the stage.) Now, I should say I did know about the Ramones before Karl came to my school in 10th grade, but the idea that I, as a 16-year-old, could procure a fake ID from a pimp/wedding photographer and gain entrance to the aforementioned shithole was just as far from my mind as flapping my arms and flying to the moon.

Karl arrived in our school in the tenth grade, and he and Andrew, another new arrival, were in a hardcore band called Sluggo. I had no idea what a hardcore band was, nor where this strange "Jockey Club" that Karl was always talking about was. But when their 7-inch came out, I dutifully bought it and was baffled by it, though I thought it was incredibly cool that somebody I knew had put out a record and printed the lyric sheet on his dad's dot matrix printer.

When Karl left Sluggo, they became a metal band (and a really kickass one at that - the complete Sluggo CD is available at CD baby), and Karl joined The Edge, a Stiff Little Fingers-influenced spirit of 77 punk band; SS-20, a kind of Minutemen/Ramones hybrid without the sense of humor, and Human Zoo, now billed on their myspace page as "Cincinnati's only high energy sex-rock band. Ever." Which is a description that works for me.

By being around Karl, going to see him perform (along with my friend Danny, who became the singer for The Edge and is now executive director of the Progressive Jewish Alliance), and listening to music with him, I got my musical horizons and, thereby, my world expanded. I got to see my favorite bands in the close confines of the Jockey Club, and I learned about all kinds of music that simply wasn't being covered in Rolling Stone. Even later, after high school, Karl got deep into Johnny Cash and led me there.

Here's a partial list of bands I got into because of Karl: Husker Du, Squirrel Bait, the Minutemen, Stiff Little Fingers, Johnny Cash, Shonen Knife, The Damned, Sham 69, Minor Threat, 7 Seconds, Motorhead, and I suppose all the other bands that those bands led me to could be traced back to Karl as well.

Karl now lives and works in Chicago, where in addition to being a dad and having some computer-type job, he produces blues records and plays bass behind blues greats, often attired in a fabulous red suit.

Anyway, I've got my favorite track from the Sluggo Contradiction EP attached here. More from Karl in comments.

And thanks!

Queens and Gene

brendanhalpin — Thu, 24 Jan 2008 19:38:15 GMT

I've been catching up on season 2 of the Henry Rollins show on Fuse lately. It's better on IFC because it's uncensored, but it's still a decent half hour on Fuse.

Season 1 was mostly about movies, but Season 2 seems to be covering more ground. I'm not sure which I like better. I kind of liked hearing Henry Rollins' talk about how crappy Hollywood movies are whilst I giggled, pointed at the TV, and said, "you were in Johnny Mnemonic!"

But Season 2 has longer interviews and less Jeanine Garafolo, whom I like as an actor and whose political views I mostly agree with and who I find incredibly annoying when she's being herself.

There are also really interesting musical guests. In the last week, I've seen Billy Bragg completely butchering "Waiting for the Great Leap Forward" and Bob Mould slightly butchering "If I Can't Change Your Mind" while bearing a really uncanny resemblance to Halloween-era Donald Pleasance. Also Shane McGowan butchering both his liver and the English language but doing a rock-solid version of "Dirty Old Town."

Anyway, the other day I caught two very interesting things on the same episode. One was the performance of "Misfit Love" by Queens of the Stone Age. This is a band I never thought much about one way or the other, but this performance completely knocked my socks off. It rocked so hard coming out of my tinny little TV speakers that I am actually afraid of seeing this band live lest I be slain by the mighty power of their heavy riffs. Here's the video: prepare to rock.

The other thing on this episode was an interview with Gene Simmons. Shockingly, nobody's youtubed it yet. Anyway, it's pretty funny to watch Rollins struggle not to crack up at some of the ridiculous stuff Gene says. And then, after discussing all the different ways in which Gene Simmons has managed to make money, Rollins asks him if he's still involved in the music industry. Gene says, basically, no, because the industry is dead and the fans killed it. The fans wanted something for nothing, they stole music, the industry was stupid not to go after college kids stealing music before it got out of control, and now the industry is dead because fans showed they don't value music enough to pay for it.

Now, obviously you have to take everything Gene Simmons says with an entire shaker of salt, but I thought this was a provocative argument. I'm not really sure how I stand on it. I certainly shopped in used record stores, I certainly made and received many a cassette back in the day, I've really enjoyed trading music with fellow Moggers, and I don't really see too much wrong with it.

And yet my living now depends on copyright and on people's willingness to pay for the art I produce. (Well, I suppose some might argue my use of the term "art" for my own work. Feel free to substitute the term "crap." ). I can sort of understand how an artist would be resentful of people downloading their stuff for free.

Much of the discussion I've seen of this stuff centers on the evils of the record industry--they rip off the artists, they spent years shoveling crap CDs with two good songs at us (though, really, the artists have to shoulder some of the blame on that one), they rip off the artists, and by the way, they rip off the artists. I am sure that's completely true - I seem to remember Michelle Shocked suing her record company for violation of the laws against indentured servitude and winning - but do we as fans have a responsibility not to take for free something we're being asked to pay for?

I (mis)heard that!

brendanhalpin — Wed, 23 Jan 2008 03:21:41 GMT

Blues Traveler currently reside in the "Where are they now" file, but travel back with me to 1995. Blues Traveler was a cross-format smash, and you couldn't turn around without hearing one of their songs: either "Run Around" or "Hook," both of which were irresistible pop rock gems.

I kinda liked the whole meta-songwriting thing going on in "Hook": the whole first verse is about how he can put together a song that means nothing, but the hook will bring you, the listener back.

But what I really liked about it was the way lead singer/harmonicist John Popper bravely dealt with the perils of his life-threatening weight. "See what you're doing to me, this MTV is not for free, this obesity is killing me so desperately I sing to thee of love..."

Wow. I mean here's a guy at the bottom of a very deep hole singing about what amounts to a taboo subject in pop music.

It crossed my mind to buy the album (this was before I heard "Run Around" so many times that it became like fingernails on a blackboard to me), but my friend beat me to it.

"Hey," I said, upon spotting the CD at his house. "How is this?" "It sucks," he said. "Really?" I said. "But those two songs are so good." "You'll see," he said, as he popped the disc into the player. And he was right--the album consisted of two hit singles and a bunch of unlistenable sludge.

This wasn't too much of a disappointment to me, since I hadn't bought the thing, but what was a disappointment was when I looked at the lyric sheet and found that my admiration for John Popper's courage was misplaced: the line he actually sang was "it's so PC it's killing me," which is not only not a brave statement about obesity, it's just dumb. Suddenly my appreciation for the song and the band plummeted.

All of which is my long-winded way of asking you, just for fun, if you've ever had a similar experience, where you misheard a lyric in a way that was better than the actual lyric. I'm not talking about the "Scuse me while I kiss this guy" or "There's a bathroom on the right" or "She's got electric boobs" stuff, but lines you heard that you thought were so cool, only to find out it that what you thought you heard was way better than what you actually heard.

Long Way FAQ!

brendanhalpin — Wed, 16 Jan 2008 21:49:58 GMT

A lot of people say to me, "Brendan! Long Way Back came out so long ago! When's the paperback coming?"

Actually, nobody's said that to me, but if they did, I'd tell them that on Tuesday, January 29th, the long wait for the US paperback of Long Way Back will end at last. Below, some frequently asked questions:

Q: Who's the hottie on the cover?

A: I have no idea. I believe she's there to make the book look more female-friendly. Apparently the guitar on the hardback cover was alarmingly phallic or something.

Q: Where can I get my copy or copies?

A: Pretty much anywhere, as far as I know. Please see below for some advice on strategic purchasing.

Q: Is it possible to read the end of this book without being moved to tears?

A: I don't think so. Finish the book in private if this is a concern to you.

Q: I've heard the main characters are Catholic. Is this like a religious book about God and stuff?

A: Not really. It certainly concerns, in part, what happens to one person's faith after a tragedy, but that's not the main focus of the book. The focus of the book is the miraculous healing power of punk rock. It's good for the religious and the God-phobic alike. I'm far too uncertain about everything to proselytize.

Q:I understand that music is very important in this book. What if I don't know anything about punk rock?

A: If you're on MOG, it should be easy enough to get hip to the important songs in the book. If I can figure out how, I'll make a playlist. Having said that, though, I've been told by people who don't know a thing about punk rock that they found this book really accessible and moving.

Q: Is it true that the end of Long Way Back is the best thing you've ever written?

A: Yes.

Q: I love your work and really want to support you.(Or--I am a friend or family member and feel an obligation to support you.) I know your publisher won't be doing squat to promote this book. What can I do?

A: Great question. You are essentially my publicists for this book. (you can be happy in the knowledge that as unpaid volunteers, your hourly rate is only slightly worse than what a real publicist working for a New York publisher makes!) Here are some suggestions.

1.Strategic purchasing. If you are planning to buy your copy or multiple copies for friends and family from Amazon.com, please consider placing your order on the first day it's available, January 29th. While Amazon hasn't revealed their exact formula for calculating sales ranking, it seems clear that multiple purchases on the same day move you up more than if they're spread over several days. Everybody complains that the Amazon numbers aren't accurate, and everybody checks them.

2.Ask for it by name! This works especially well in independent bookstores, where the purchasing is done by someone on site. The employees notice what people want and try to stock it. (It helps if you ask at B&N and Borders too, especially if you don't see it.)

3.Bring it to your book group! Long Way Back is that rare book that is a fast, compelling read that also gives you stuff to talk about. Everyone in the group will probably read it, so you can actually have a good conversation about a book before you start focusing on the wine.

4. Mention it in person. People buy books on word of mouth. Tell people you liked it, even press your copy into their hands. While I love sales, every time somebody reads this book it's good for me.

5.Mention it on the internets. Many of you have already done this, and I appreciate it. Anything you can do is helpful--mog, blog, reviews on amazon, shelfari, library thing, goodreads, or mentions on your myspace or facebook, or whatever other kind of networking site or blog you have--it's all good, and it all helps. Indeed, I think this might be the key to helping this book find a larger audience.

Q: Will this book get the recognition it deserves?

A: Let's hope so. I'm convinced this book could appeal to way more people than have already read it. I deeply appreciate anything you can do to help.

Jughead's Still Safe

brendanhalpin — Mon, 14 Jan 2008 12:51:53 GMT

Gorillaz aspire to be the greatest cartoon band of all time. Of course, there is serious competition for the crown. For decades now, the Archies have sat atop the cartoon mountain surveying the competition. Yes, they really only produced one great single, but what a single it was. (What a tragic irony that the love triangle in the band both fueled their art and also rent the band asunder.) "Sugar Sugar" is a perfect pop song, and the yardstick against which all cartoon rock must be measured.

Naturally, you can't discuss cartoon music without also mentioning Fat Albert and the Cosby Kids. Though they never charted, their brand of pop-funk only gets better with age, and they have proven hugely influential on the 3D musicians who came after them. Their musical achievements are all the more remarkable given that they were playing such junkyard instruments as an old bed frame and a radiator fitted with some sort of bellows. (I think the influence on Tom Waits is self-evident.) Sure, they were didactic, but so were KRS-One and Chuck D! Tragically, Fat Albert's obesity led to inevitable health problems that have since prevented the band from performing. Today it's doubtful Morbidly Obese Albert, as he's currently known, could even lift a radiator, much less coax some funky music from it.

Gorillaz, thus far, have produced a few irresistible (if sub-"Sugar Sugar" quality) hook-happy singles, and albums filled out with, well, filler. Considering, it seems an act of colossal hubris, perhaps motivated by a more than casual interest in the cartoon band crown, for Gorillaz to release a collection of B-sides and remixes. For even the greatest bands, the B-side collection is a throwaway. Obsessive fans usually have the B-sides anyway, and everyone else could care less. (Exception: Prince's B-side collection contains both "Erotic City" and "She's Always in My Hair," and is fantastic.)

Disc one of Gorillaz' D-Sides is the B-sides disc. Despite my best efforts, the tracks on this disc keep slipping from my mind. They're just that forgettable. I seem to recall that it begins with a pleasant if unremarkable instrumental, and somewhere in there is a track called "Hong Kong," which starts as a really interesting fusion of traditional Chinese music and whatever one calls Gorillaz' music, but quickly devolves into a sad, lengthy dirge. Otherwise, after four listens, I cannot remember anything about the B-sides disc. I suppose that indicates that the songs are not horrible, but neither are they very good ... kind of like the filler tracks on a regular Gorillaz album.

Ah, but then we come to the remix disc. At least we're on familiar ground here, as the songs being remixed are, mostly, the catchy hit singles. (Though, really, do we need three remixes of "Kids With Guns"?)

Nonetheless, we have a problem. The hit singles are hits in large part because of the way the parts of the songs were assembled. Taking the songs apart and reassembling them tends, in most cases, to dilute their appeal ... or wreck it all together. The disc opens with the twelve-and-a-half minute (!) dfa remix of "Dare," which is fine, really, until the dental drill sound kicks in at about five-and-a-half minutes. Perhaps if one is chemically altered and on a dance floor, this sort of thing is appealing. As I was in neither condition, it just reminded me of getting a filling. The standout track is the live version of "Feel Good, Inc." which closes the disc, and which stands out because it sounds pretty much like the original.

I wish Gorillaz luck in their quest to dethrone the Archies, but D-Sides is a detour on the path to greatness. For obsessive fans only.

I Love You Suzanne, Part 1: I Say Nothing

brendanhalpin — Sun, 06 Jan 2008 02:05:02 GMT

So my lovely wife Suzanne gave me a USB turntable for Christmas. (Also, a Kindle, about which more later on my other blog.)

This is an awesome gift--it unlocks thousands of songs that have been locked away on all my records since my turntable broke down a couple of years ago.

They say that junkies love not just the heroin, but the ritual of cooking it up. I certainly understand the appeal of rituals - this is why I make coffee in a French press, and why, and I know I sound like a fossil here, but for me, vinyl is still the best way to listen to music: grabbing the record, sliding the paper sleeve out of the cardboard sleeve, putting the vinyl on the turntable, and gently placing the needle on the record. (yeah, it's an addiction - there are needles involved).

The software that came with the turntable is somewhat cumbersome - record, export .wav file to itunes, convert .wav to mp3, trash .wav file because I don't have space for hundreds of .wav files... - and still I love it.

I've decided to start the daunting task of digitizing my vinyl not with the entire albums that need doing - the first Clash album (UK and US Versions, and by the way the US version is better despite what everyone in the world but me thinks), Zen Arcade, Double Nickels on the Dime, Dirty Mind, etc. - but with albums I bought for one or two songs.

Tonight we begin with Voice of the Beehive, a band I know next to nothing about except that their song "I Walk the Earth" was a minor hit in the UK when I lived in Scotland in 88-89.

When I got back to the US, I picked up their album Let it Bee at a used record store and found it to be full of pop songs nearly as delicious as the "hit" single.

Dig this track: "I Say Nothing". It's sumptous pop nugget so sweet it makes my teeth ache.

And yeah, you can download it from itunes, but if you do that, you can't get all that fantastic hissing, cracking, and popping that comes with a beloved old slab of vinyl.

My 2007 Faves

brendanhalpin — Fri, 04 Jan 2008 02:43:10 GMT

I know it's a little late, but I've decided to just go with the songs I liked in 2007 that were released in 2007. I think. I probably forgot several. For a variety of reasons, I didn't get a bunch of albums I was excited about, and though I've now listened to most of them, I don't feel like I can completely pass judgment on them yet. Especially that Mooney Suzuki album, which I think might be great, but I'm not sure yet. So, in no particular order, on to the songs.

Lily Allen "LDN" - I love the happy, catchy melody matched with the incredibly cynical lyrics. I liked this even before I saw the youtube thing where she shows her third nipple.

Silversun Pickups - "Lazy Eye". What the hell's it about? I have no idea, and frankly, I don't care! I love the whole "Feelies meet the Pixies" vibe, and I always turn it up when they get to the screaming part.

Spoon - "The Underdog". Horns! Horns! More horns! The horns get me every time!

Amy Winehouse - "Rehab." I'm a little sick of it now, it would be cooler to pick one of the other tracks from the album, and it's become sadly ironic, but she can really sing, and that old school soul sound is fantastic.

The Hives - "Return the Favour". Yes, they've spelled favor in the British, also known as "incorrect" way, but this song rocks my socks off. I really like their new album, especially because Howlin' Pelle Almquist appears to have decided to become Singin' Pelle Almquist, which just improves the sound tremendously. (No official video for this one yet, so we've got a rather crappy live excerpt, which still sounds pretty good to me--just imagine this longer and clearer..)

The White Stripes - "You Don't Know What Love Is (You Just Do As You're Told)" The return of the song title with parentheses! I feel like it's the 80's again! I'm kinda in awe of Jack White's talent, and this song, to my way of thinking, has it all--the wonderful melody, the face-meltin' guitar, and the great lyrics. Like all the best White Stripes songs, this one sounds like it's a classic that's been around for years.

John Fogerty - "I Can't Take it No More." Fogerty's back, and he's pissed, and he's one of the few musicians daring to take on the war.

The Apples in Stereo - "Can You Feel It?" "Same Old Drag" The two best songs from their New Magnetic Wonder album, which is really good as a whole and which I just recently wrote about and posted two videos from. Great upbeat power pop that I never get sick of.

Feist - "I Feel It All". Usually the female acoustic singer-songwriter is right up there with dental surgery among my favorite things, but this is a great song. I was won over by this clip of her singing it on the bus with Jimmy Kimmel, which I'm pretty sure I saw because someone posted it here. I don't remember who. Sorry!

Tegan and Sara - "Back In Your Head" hate the mullets. Hate the video. Love the song.

Okay, one album. Rentacrowd by the Len Price 3 is the album I listened to the most, and the album I listened to from beginning to end more than any other in 2007. These guys have channeled the early Kinks and Who and put together a fantastic record. It's all great, but here's the video for the title track:

I'm sure I forgot a bunch and I'll feel dumb when I realize what they are...

Apples For The End of the Year

brendanhalpin — Fri, 28 Dec 2007 22:03:45 GMT

I just wanted to chime in with a band and an album that I haven't seen on anybody's year-end best yet.

The Apples in Stereo put out a really great record this year. Musically ambitious but still packed with accessible, hummable power pop, I think it belongs among the best albums of the year. It's not perfect, but the good songs on it are excellent, the okay songs are good, and the bad songs are listenable--think The New Pornographers without the melancholy streak.

Also, this is a band that is unafraid of the cowbell.

I listened to this album nonstop for several weeks and still maintain that "Can You Feel It" should have been the official song of summer. (I mean, "Umbrella" was good too, but, "Can You Feel It" just feels like sunshine on my shoulder, which looks so lovely, makes me happy,and almost all the time makes me cry. Or something.)

Also, the band released all 21 tracks that make up "Can You Feel It" in .wav format for fans to compete for best remix. The contest ended in October but I've been unable to locate any info on the winner or honorable mentions or anthing. Still, it's a cool idea.

Anyway, here's the big fancy video for "Can You Feel It" followed by the no-budget, Wayne's World-esque video for "Same Old Drag," which I find very charming and actually prefer. Enjoy, and as you assemble your own personal best of 2007 list, please consider adding this fine album.

Comin' Down Your Chimney

brendanhalpin — Mon, 24 Dec 2007 15:30:23 GMT

Perhaps not surprising from a guy whose favorite Christmas movie is "Bad Santa," here's my favorite Christmas song. The King himself, with a bag full of raunchy double entendres and the Jordanaires as his jolly elves.

Hang up your stockings, baby, 'cause Elvis is comin' down your chimney tonight.

Hoedown at Grampy Levon's Place

brendanhalpin — Thu, 20 Dec 2007 00:59:15 GMT

Levon Helm is probably best known to most people as That Guy Who Played Loretta Lynn's Dad in Coal Miner's Daughter. He's also, of course, well known as the drummer and occasional (and best) singer for the legendary, if unfortunately named The Band, who backed Dylan, released their own records, and co-starred in the legendary Neil Diamond concert movie The Last Waltz. (I'm kidding. It's their movie. But Neil Diamond really is in it, with fabulous hair and shades.)

Helm was the voice of "The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down" and "The Weight," and "Up on Cripple Creek," probably the three best-loved songs from a much-admired band that inspired more respect than love.

In the 90's, Helm was treated for throat cancer and only recently regained his singing voice.

Which makes "Dirt Farmer" that much more remarkable. Helm's voice sounds fantastic, and, with the help of a band and backup singers including his daughter, he's produced what might be the greatest album of traditional American music since the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band's "Will The Circle Be Unbroken."

The song selection is everything you might hope for--no overly familiar songs, but all songs covering the familiar roots music territory of outlaws, lovers, broken-hearted lovers, dead lovers,and, um, dead kids. Jesus is absent from the proceedings, but otherwise, the album covers just about every theme of traditional American music.

The album also sounds fantastic--it's got a deep, rich sound and, despite the treble-heavy fiddle and mandolin, never sounds shrill, which can be a downfall of this kind of music in the hands of some producers.

Some tracks ("Poor Old Dirt Farmer" "Got Me a Woman" "Single Girl, Married Girl") are funny, some ("Anna Lee" "Blind Child") are almost unbearably sad, and "A Train Robbery" is totally badass.

Every track on this record is a keeper, and everyone sounds like a really tight band sitting on the back porch and ripping through some really great traditional songs. I was surprised to find that Levon Helm plays several instruments on this record, because it has the warmth and intimacy of a live recording.

This is a nearly perfect album. (If I can pour some gasoline on the fire of the Levon Helm-Robbie Robertson rivalry, you damn sure can't say that about any of Robbie Robertson's solo material.) If you like traditional American music, or The Band, or just the sound of very talented musicians playing the shit out of songs they love, this album is essential.

Love Story with Somewhat Inappropriate Music

brendanhalpin — Wed, 19 Dec 2007 02:36:44 GMT

Don't hit that little red play button yet. Wait till I tell ya for maximum effect!

Three years ago, the rest of my life began. I was in New York City with my daughter Rowen, and my girlfriend Suzanne and her kids Casey and Kylie. We spent the day doing Christmasy stuff with Suzanne's parents and brother and sister-in-law.

All day long I was nervous and distracted by the ring in my pocket.

When we hit the big Christmas tree in Rockefeller Center, Rowen, as we'd planned, caused a distraction and I took Suzanne to one side and asked her to marry me.

This was a huge leap of faith in many respects. There was the obvious leap of faith of blending our families and assuming that it would eventually work out and be worth the difficulty.

And there was the difficulty for me, widowed for only fifteen months, of daring to fall in love again, to make myself, and more importantly my daughter, vulnerable to another crushing loss. Just over ten years before this day, I had married Kirsten thinking that we'd get to grow old together. Now here I was again, betting on a future that's never certain. And betting that, despite everything, it was possible for me to be happy again.

It was a nearly perfect day, and then Suzanne's brother announced that they had two extra tickets for the Pixies concert that night and asked if we'd like to go.

Off we went, and I was especially excited because Mike Watt, whom I've long admired but had never seen live, was opening.

Watt (O, fellow mogger, forgive me) was not great. "Piss Bags and Tubing" seemed to go on forever, and the decision to replace guitar with hammond organ was, in my humble opinion, not a good one.

"Start your own band!" Watt yelled as he left the stage. I sat there holding Suzanne's hand and started to get a little anxious. I was excited, of course, but there were so many things that could go wrong--not just with the Pixies, but with our lives. What if the kids hated each other? What if her kids hated me? What if my kid hated her? What if somebody died? Again?

Finally, the lights dimmed, and the Pixies came out and began to play. (okay, scroll up and hit the red button now).

They were old (all of them), bald (Frank and Joey) and fat (Frank and Kim). They would not have looked out of place standing on the sideline at one of our kids' soccer games.

And they rocked the fuck out. They looked as middle-aged as I felt, if not more so, but they weren't sitting around mourning their lost youth--they were on stage doing it better than people half their age, better, probably than when they were half their age.

I actually had tears come to my eyes, which is probably not the usual response to "Wave of Mutilation", even the slowed-down UK Surf version.

Because it was inspiring. Dammit, if the Pixies, at their age, can get up there and kick the collective ass of a sold-out venue, then maybe it's not stupid to bet on the future, it's not stupid to hope that in spite of everything, not matter how old you are or what's happened to you, you can still be vibrantly, wonderfully alive.

I bought the CD of the concert, and here's the "Wave of Mutilation (UK Surf)" that opened the show. Depending on how fast you read, the song may be nearing its conclusion by now. Listen to the cheering--I'm in there, yelling with joy and, more importantly, hope.

The Arockalypse is February 8th.

brendanhalpin — Sun, 16 Dec 2007 14:55:05 GMT

A lot of people say to me, "Brendan! I know you to be a fan of Finnish Monster Metal Band Lordi; when's their movie coming out?"

Okay. Not one single person has said anything even close to that. In point of fact, I am the only person I know who is looking forward to the Lordi movie.

In any case, it premieres in Finland on February 8th. No idea when it'll make it to the US, but I'm betting on a straight-to-DVD release here.

Here is the official trailer (No, it's not premiering on August 2nd as the trailer seems to suggest. Remember that our European friends, in addition to being Rhapsody-impaired, write their dates incorrectly.)(I kid! I kid because I love!):

I have to say I'm a little nervous. I like the haunted hospital thing (me and my friend Dominic were the only people who watched Kingdom Hospital): hospitals are inherently horrifying places where there are far more deaths per capita than just about any other kind of building.

So far so good. But it looks like they're going to try to make this a real, straightforward horror movie. I see two problems with this. One: the brilliance of Lordi is in their cheesiness; if they're going to try to be un-cheesy, well, I'm not sure if they might not lose some of the magic. Two: the very presence of the latex-clad Lordi might insert some unintentional hilarity into what looks like an otherwise serious movie.

But, then again, the bar for movies starring bands in makeup is set very, very low. Behold six minutes of KISS Meets the Phantom of the Park, a TV movie from the 70's. I have watched this entire movie two times. I'm sure not even Gene Simmons did that. The whole thing is up on youtube; if you have some sins you need to atone for, watching it might make a suitable penance. This particular scene evokes a great philosophical conundrum: what's worse, the special effects, or Paul Stanley's acting? Discuss!

New England!

brendanhalpin — Fri, 14 Dec 2007 12:45:13 GMT

Allow me to briefly rhapsodize about my home. (ha! rhapsodize! get it?)

Ahem. Yesterday it started snowing at 1 pm. Traffic was completely gridlocked by about 2. Fortunately all I had to do was drive my wife and kids home from school a mile away. It took us 40 minutes. And then I had to shovel. (we have 35 steps from our house to the street.) Oh yeah, and my wife has a broken leg.

And then I had to take the dog to the park in the snow.

And I loved every freakin' minute of it. Yeah, I'll be hating it by March, but the first snowstorm of the year is just glorious. It's quiet, everything slows down, and I feel like this is the best place in the world.

Here's someone who concurs (Well, I guess he's now at the top in the little button, even though mog is still telling me he's appended to the end of my post). Jonathan Richman, one of those guys who's simultaneously underrated (by most of humanity) and overrated (by his cultists), sounding like he has a bad head cold and singing the praises of the best place in the world.

Cum On Feel Tha Cheez

brendanhalpin — Sun, 09 Dec 2007 02:50:15 GMT

There's been a whole lot of cheese floating around the mogosphere today. I've even seen the suggestion that the 80's produced more cheese than other decades, and I felt I had to speak up for the 70's as the cheesiest musical decade.

Exhibit A: This gem from Tony Orlando & Dawn. This appears to predate Tony's porn star mustache and tux look, but the sideburns and the chest rug are fantastically cheesy, and I believe the cheese content of the song speaks for itself.

Oh yeah, and by the way, I freakin' love this song.

The Proverbial Stopped Clock

brendanhalpin — Fri, 07 Dec 2007 02:45:05 GMT

For those of you who don't have tween girls, allow me a few moments to explain Radio Disney, a.k.a. the station with the smallest playlist in the world .

Radio Disney, at least during the hours when I find myself subjected to it, plays the following songs: The High School Musical 2 soundtrack; 3 or 4 Miley Cyrus songs, 3 or 4 Jonas Brothers songs, and 1 song each by Billy Ray Cyrus, Emily Osment, Keke Palmer, Corbin Bleu, and Aly and AJ.

If you don't know many of those names, don't feel bad--Disney has created a brilliant self-contained, self-perpetuating pop culture machine. Shows air on The Disney Channel, and the stars of said shows are hustled into recording studios to pump out genial pop hits which are played endlessly on Radio Disney. Thus building the audience for the shows, thus building the audience for the music, etc. etc.

Even when faced with a clearly inferior product (High School Musical 2 is inferior to its predecessor in nearly every respect), the Disney machine will bludgeon you into submission. I find myself singing "Bet On It," Zac Efron's climactic Footloose-style laughable solo dance number from HSM2, simply because I hear it all the time.

Honestly, I thought Nickelodeon had an amazing synergistic marketing machine until we fell down the Disney rabbit hole. They make Sumner Redstone and the Viacom Crew look like rank amateurs.

And, for all that I'm a cynical old man, most of the music isn't really bad. It's just not really good. And really, they play the same songs over and over and over again. Until I can't stand it anymore.

Except when this one comes on. It's one of the rare imports they play on Radio Disney (by which I mean it appears to have originated outside The Empire of the Mouse), and whenever it comes on, I inevitably turn up the volume and start shaking my thang as much as I can while still keeping the minivan under control. This embarrasses the hell out of the kids, but not enough to make them stop wanting to listen to Radio Disney.

Anyway, this song kicks ass. Follow instructions and turn the music up.

Cover For Your Consideration

brendanhalpin — Mon, 03 Dec 2007 03:11:49 GMT

This came out about two years ago, and I've been puzzling over it ever since. Is it just a goof? How exactly are we supposed to be taking this? Why the gorgeous pop music with the ugly hateful lyrics? Why do I like it so much? Why do I think too much?

Cool rock and roll showmanship at the end with the forty-eleven guitarists and fake suicide...

None Dare Call it Crap

brendanhalpin — Thu, 29 Nov 2007 19:53:44 GMT

I was inspired by my friend Eric's post about his kids' love of Tom Waits. (Stop by and say hi to him! He's got broader musical taste than I do, and he's nicer besides. Also I've known him since I was younger than my kids are now, which is kind of a scary thought. Also, we once literallly came to blows over Blue Oyster Cult's "Veteran of the Psychic Wars")

I remember those heady days when I thought my musical taste would be passed on uncorrupted. Once I took my oldest daughter to the dentist. "What kind of music do you like?" the dentist inquired. "The Donnas," my daughter replied. "Madonna?" the dentist, puzzled, replied. "No," my daughter replied. "The Donnas."

She liked "Rock and Roll Machine" and "Gimme My Radio." Sigh. This is the same child who now requests Radio Disney every time we get in the car.

Now, I understand the appeal of Radio Disney: many catchy, singalong pop tunes that batter down your resistance. I, for example, can't resist the Jonas Brothers' "Year 3000" despite its absolutely moronic chorus: "I've been to the year 3000. Not much has changed, but they live underwater." Yeah, that's not much. All human life has moved to a completely new milieu, but, you know, no biggie.

But here's what I can't understand. The appeal of this,

which is currently number one on the fifth grade hit parade. I mean, there are a lot of things I don't like that I understand why somebody likes. Like, okay, I'm not an Eminem fan, but I get that he writes really creative rhymes, even if they are about cutting up his wife and hating gays and stuff. (And, to be fair, he's less homophobic than, say Amiri Baraka, and his poems get taught in schools, though maybe less now since he came out with that "blame the Jews for 9/11" thing.)

But this? I mean, okay, I guess it's kind of cute that there's a little dance to go with it. Maybe it's like the Macarena, only even stupider! But, I mean, I'm seeing no lyrical skills here, my son makes more interesting beats on Garage Band on his spare time, and, oh yeah, it's obscene, unless I'm somehow misconstruing the meaning of "supersoak that ho."

I feel about a hundred years old. Kids today--their music is crap!

Mostly Killer

brendanhalpin — Tue, 27 Nov 2007 22:55:45 GMT

The Hives, in many respects, seem to be the heirs to the Ramones: sartorial gimmick, jackhammer tempos, catchy earworm choruses. What's not to love?

The Hives' new album, The Black and White Album, starts with such a barrage of excellence that I was initially sure I was listening to the album of the year. The Single "Tick Tick Boom" leads into "Try It Again," which features cheerleaders on the chorus(!) and lead singer Howlin' Pelle Almquist doing more singing and less howlin'. This is a positive trend that continues throughout the album.

Three more fantastic songs follow, including "Well All Right," which is not a Buddy Holly cover, but, rather, a new song which takes its place in the pantheon of "Woo hoo" songs with Gwen Stefani's "Sweet Escape" and Blur's "Song 2. Even "Hey Little World" succeeds despite its use of the line "what you gonna do when we come for you?" Any band that can evoke the theme from "Cops" and not go down in flames is clearly hot stuff.

So far so good--joyful, melodic, hard rockin' guitar pop. What could go wrong? Well, around track 6 we hit a snag: "A Stroll Through Hive Manor Corridors." Hive Manor to judge by the instrumental that bears its name, is right next door to Nintendo's Luigi's Mansion. I guess it's okay to have this kind of filler track as a kind of palate-clearing sorbet (Husker Du did it with "The Baby Song," for example), but this goes on for nearly four minutes. Annoying.

But then we're back to great songs, and The Hives even manage to get a little bit funky on "T.H.E.H.I.V.E.S". When they assert "we rule the world" on this track, it's tough to disagree, especially when "Return the Favour," my vote for single of the year, follows.

And then the album goes off the rails. "Giddy Up" is a raunchy double entendre song that manages to be more annoying than fun. "Square One Here I Come" feels annoyingly posey--it's just tough to take seriously a song about being down and out from the day you're born from a band from Sweden, a.k.a. The Home of Democratic Socialism. "You Dress Up For Armegeddon" is fantastic and the rest of the album is forgettable.

This album contains eight amazing songs, and yet I can't really recommend it for purchase as a full album because of the filler tracks. Download tracks one through five and seven through nine and twelve and you've got an album that's all killer, no filler. Spend the buck you saved by not paying for the filler tracks and buy a delicious guilty pleasure pop song.

And now, enjoy "Return the Favour", which never fails to kill me.

Top 3 Country Songs of the 00's: #1

brendanhalpin — Tue, 27 Nov 2007 22:00:49 GMT

Yodeling. Sexy. Not two words I ever expected to write in the same sentence. And yet, there I was, one dark night, driving home when I heard this song on Outlaw Country, and I discovered that yodeling can, in fact, be sexy. At least when Kasey Chambers does it. I nearly had to pull the car over.

I know nothing about the recording of this or who the other musicians are, but given that Ms. Chambers is Australian, it seems to support my theory that the best country music these days is not coming out of Nashville. (Great town though: and the country music hall of fame is fantastic.)

Anyway, here's my pick for the top country song of the 00's so far. CAUTION: this video may induce fainting. Or maybe I'm the only one who's suffered that side effect.

Top 3 Country Songs of the 00's: #2

brendanhalpin — Wed, 21 Nov 2007 01:48:29 GMT

Today's pick is from Hank Williams III. Hank has not only the name, but also a bucketload of talent. Lovesick, Broke, and Drifting is a fantastic album filled with the kind of old-fashioned drinkin', fightin', and lovin' songs that made country music great but are rarely heard anymore.

Hank appears to have gone slightly off the rails of late: his most recent album, Straight to Hell, features one disc of drinkin', lovin' and fightin' songs (of which "Pills I Took" is the best), and one disc of annoying soundscape stuff: crying babies, trains going by, etc., interspersed with the best songs on the record. It's all one track, so you can't just get to the good stuff without the Revolution #9 Stuff. Also, there's a bunch of stuff in the booklet about Hank's association with the Church of Satan. (insert cuckoo clock sound here).

Anyway, this is an incredibly beautiful heartbroken drinking song. Sometimes when you're down, you want a happy song to pick you up. And sometimes you just want to wallow and know that somebody else has been as low as you. This is a good one for those latter times.

Top 3 Country Songs of the 00's: #3

brendanhalpin — Mon, 19 Nov 2007 22:04:20 GMT

A propos of nothing at all, I've decided to share my top 3 country songs of the 00's. I can't claim wide or deep enough country knowledge to claim that these are the best three country songs, but they are my favorites.

I feel like country gets a bad rap from a lot of people. People who've seen Toby Keith's Ford Truck ads, for example. Much of it is cynical, cookie-cutter crap, (as, for that matter, is most music in any genre), and much of it celebrates things that are resolutely uncool, like unquestioning obedience of the government.

Still, there are certain times in life when a country song hits me where nothing else will. I feel like few other genres really grapple with the reality of death as well as country does, for example.

And yet, there are plenty of people who say, "I like everything but country." I am actually married to someone like that, and yet her favorite White Stripes song is "Hotel Yorba" and her favorite Stones song is "Dead Flowers." So maybe it's just the label that's the problem.

In any case, all three of my songs come from outside the Nashville establishment. I suspect this isn't coincidental, but, again, I can't claim encyclopedic country knowledge, so maybe there's great stuff coming out of Nashville I just haven't heard.

Without further ado, here's #3 of my top 3 country songs, Frank Black and the Catholic with "Horrible Day." It hits drug use, divorce, and driving, and is therefore an awesome country song. While Frank's non-Pixies output probably will never get the respect and love it deserves, I really think he's grown into a much better and more interesting songwriter outside of the Pixies. (and I like the Pixies, but I find the parts of their albums that aren't brilliant to be basically unlistenable. Or, as Robert Louis Stevenson famously remarked of the Pixies, "When they were good, they were very very good, and when they were bad they were horrid."

Okay, logorrhea attack here. Can you tell I work by myself all day? More Frank, less me:

Scottfree Beats Me Into Submission: Sunday Under Covers

brendanhalpin — Sun, 18 Nov 2007 18:44:33 GMT

Well, I searched and searched for the perfect cover version of "Rock and Roll, Hoochie Koo" to cap off the week, but when you don't like a song, it's tough to find a version you like.

And then I came across this one. I'd put these kids at about 14, and for some reason they're playing Rick Derringer covers in a church. Note how the guitarist to the left of the singer has already mastered the rock and roll guitarist smile and nod. The sound is muddy, I'm not crazy about the song choice, but to these kids, I am proud to say, Keep On Rockin.

All Aboard, or 80's Funk vs. the Rodent Invasion

brendanhalpin — Fri, 16 Nov 2007 17:02:47 GMT

So I've got squirrels in my attic again. this would be annoying, except that our bedroom is kind of carved out of the attic, so it's actually super annoying.

I currently lack the resources to have all of the access points sealed (Due to some rather costly repairs on my old house, I now have a pathological fear of the word "soffit". You're pretty much out at least a grand any time that word gets uttered.).

But it's key to cause the squirrels some discomfort before they nest, because then they're in for the winter.

So I'm repeating what I did last year--I'm funkin' 'em out.

As some people know, squirrels have sensitive hearing. As everyone knows, Squirrels are inherently un-funky. They lack the funk instinct that, for example, dogs have. (This is why George Clinton never had a song called "Atomic Squirrel"). Thus, last year, I drove them out by use of a simple boom box and my "Jointz From Back in Da Day" CD on repeat.

Here is the first of said jointz. I feel that 80's funk doesn't get enough love here on mog, and looking at the fashions in this video, I suppose I can see why. (I believe I was actually scarred by the image of the lead singer cavorting in the surf in a black speedo). And yet this song never fails to funk me up. And the squirrels can't stand it.

If You Can't Say Anything Nice...

brendanhalpin — Tue, 13 Nov 2007 18:16:11 GMT

So I just had a semi-testy exchange with Mr. Rick Derringer himself, or else a touchy fan claiming to be Rick Derringer, after I expressed my dislike for "Rock and Roll, Hoochie Koo" and suggested that, three quarters of the way through, he should not have kept on rockin'. (http://mog.com/brendanhalpin/blog_post/123882)

This got me thinking about a couple of things. One is MOG-specific, another applies to the internet as a whole.

One of the things I like about MOG is the lack of nasty back and forth--there's a nice spirit here of "I don't like that, but if you do, good for you."

This is why I backed off from a fight with deadmandeadman about whether The Band or CCR is better with an apparently Clintonian manouver. (I took that as a compliment.) I don't really come here to argue: I get plenty of that from my kids! And yet I get a kick out of expressing strong opinions which are likely to annoy people.

And yet, I mean, there is enough good music out there that I like and haven't heard that I could probably spend all my time only talking about good stuff.

And yet. It's kind of fun to say something nasty about art I don't like. And it's usually fun to read too--this is why I, and probably everybody else, like's Anthony Lane's movie reviews in The New Yorker better than David Denby's.

But now, with the rise of autogoogling, it's very likely that any nasty or dismissive thing I write about anybody's work on the internet will be read by that person, and, as Rick Derringer's response to me shows, it stings to have some asshole say something nasty and dismissive about your work.

I told Rick to essentially toughen up, which I kind of believe, but, on the other hand, maybe I need to nicen up.

Should the fact that the person who created the work, if they are alive, is going to read what you write about it affect what you say and how you say it? Shall we bid farewell to snarky criticism, or shall we continue to be snarky and let the chips fall where they may?

I thought the Jam's "The Modern World" was a nice accompaniment to this post, since it's the song in which Paul Weller claims not to give a damn (or, in another version, two fucks) about your review. He's lying, of course, because if he really didn't give a damn about your review, he wouldn't have written a song about it.

The Old Man Down The Road

brendanhalpin — Mon, 12 Nov 2007 23:20:43 GMT

John Fogerty fronted the best American band of the 1960's. (You could make a really good case for Sly and the Family Stone, but otherwise, there's not really any serious competition. The Band? When you can't fill a greatest hits album with good songs, you're in trouble. The Byrds? Cloying! The Grateful Dead? Are you high? Actually, I suppose if you think the Dead are the best American band of the 60's, it's very likely that you actually are high, or that you soon will be. Enjoy!)

This being the case, it's difficult to judge a new John Fogerty album without measuring it against his amazing body of work with CCR. That would be pretty unfair, but here's John pretty much daring us to do that by calling his new album "Revival."

Revival is not as good as Willy and the Poor Boys, but it is a damn good record. A surprisingly good record. What's especially gratifying about this is that Fogerty hasn't followed the blueprint for how a legendary artist makes a stab at relevance: get a bunch of younger guest stars with more fans and less talent than you, mix until platinum. Instead, he's just come out alone and made a John Fogerty record.

It starts inauspiciously with a rather tepid song called "Don't You Wish It Was True." Aha, I thought upon hearing this. Like so many of his peers, Fogerty is content to slide into a comfortable senescence and release pleasant, forgettable music from time to time. (Well, Van Morrison has slid into grumpy senescence, but you know what I mean.)

Fortunately, the rest of the record dispels this impression pretty quickly. Fogerty uncorks some top-notch country songs: "River is Waiting" is the kind of beautiful song we shouldn't be surprised to hear from the guy who gave us "Lodi" and "Wrote a Song For Everyone." Even "Broken Down Cowboy" is a fantastic song, and I am predisposed to hate songs comparing singers to cowboys, having been damaged in my youth by "Desperado" and "Wanted Dead or Alive."

I guess I shouldn't be surprised to find angry, rockin' commentary on the current political situation from the guy who wrote "Fortunate Son" (still great, still relevant), but it's a bracing surprise to hear the anti-war, anti-Bush songs "Long Dark Night" (kind of a companion to "Bad Moon Rising") and "I Can't Take it No More." Even "Gunslinger" is a pretty obvious allegory as Fogerty imagines himself in an old west town longing for somebody to show up and set things right.

What shocked me about this is not that Fogerty is writing songs like this, it's that he's one of the only people doing it. Where the hell are the younger musicians? Well, that's probably another post, but for right now, Fogerty is back and he's pissed, and it sounds great.

You can sing blues and country songs pretty much forever, but a lot of older performers have trouble rocking convincingly. No trouble here. "Longshot" and "Somebody Help Me" and "I Can't Take it No More" all cook like classic Creedence.

Revival isn't the complete career reinvention that American Recordings was for Johnny Cash, but it's similarly stunning. Here's a guy that I and probably many other people had long written off coming back strong to remind us that he's not only still here, he's still damn good at what he does.

Adventures in Radio

brendanhalpin — Mon, 12 Nov 2007 01:59:47 GMT

I am suffering in a number of ways since my Sirius receiver got stolen and I am stuck listening to terrestrial radio. (And, I mean, they can't even use the Sirius receiver! It's just a useless thing with buttons on it to them! Cripes!)

Anyway, I heard Rick Derringer's "Rock and Roll, Hoochie Koo" the other day on the radio, and I just really hate that song. And then about two thirds of the way through the song, Rick asks, "Somebody say keep on rockin'?" Now, I don't know about you, but I am pretty sure that I have never told Rick Derringer to keep on rockin'. It occurs to me that we all might have been spared a lot of heartache over the years if, on that fateful day, nobody had told Rick Derringer to keep on rockin'.

I also heard Trio's "Da Da Da" the other day. It brought back all kinds of memories, as I am the only person in the United States of America to ever own not one but two Trio albums. (one's an import and has a great cover of that "sittin' in the la la waitin' for my ya ya") song.

Anyway, I'd love to revisit Trio, but I am currently without any means to play my vinyl. But it occurs to me that Trio, a German, uh, Trio with guitar, drums, and casiotone keyboard, might be more influential than your average German one-hit wonder from the '80's, which is to say Nena, Taco, or Falco. (Not actually sure if Taco was German or not, and maybe Falco was Austrian, but anyway...) There was just something in "Da Da Da": the simple melody? The low, deadpan vocals? The female voice on the chorus? that reminded me of Magnetic Fields. Also the spare instrumentation and production surely influenced the White Stripes. Unless it didn't. But something like, for example, "Ich Lieb Den Rock and Roll" could be a White Stripes song. Except, you know, in German.

My favorite Trio song is an almost instrumental casiotone showcase in which the chorus consists of off-key singing, with occasional coughing, the phrase "Drei Mann Im Doppelbett". That's "Three Men in a Double Bed." Whatever.

Not really any point to all this, and no music, just my annoying rambling.

Totally F'n Stoked To Be Alive

brendanhalpin — Tue, 06 Nov 2007 13:56:37 GMT

So I'm thirty-nine years old today. A lot of people I know get all morose on their birthdays, but not me.

Now, this might be due in part to the fact that I had no youthful beauty to mourn the passing of. It may also be because my exterior is growing that much closer to the grumpy old man I've been on the inside since about age 14.

But mostly I think it's because when you've had two important people in your life die at thirty-five, every year after thirty-five feels like the bonus round. Hey, cool, some extra time! Better make the most of it!

Things are somewhat tough right now--we're on a "down" cycle in the ups and downs of self-employment income, and, as Bruce said, I got debts no honest man could pay. Also, it's raining.

But, on the other hand, I'm healthy, my wife and kids are healthy, the dog is healthy, and I get to wake up every day in a house surrounded by people I love.

So here's to the bonus round, and here's Joey--somebody else I miss--with a song I never liked until I heard him sing it.

What Comes of Taking Good Care of Your Voice

brendanhalpin — Thu, 01 Nov 2007 23:28:07 GMT

So I was thinking about rock and roll singers not taking care of their voices, and this led me to remember Van Lear Rose by Loretta Lynn, which she recorded when she was SEVENTY. Her voice still sounds amazing. So it can be done.

This particular track once knocked me off a piece of exercise equipment. Back in late 2003, I loaded it onto my MP3 player without having listened to it, and there I was in the gym when this amazing song came on. I totally wasn't ready for it, because there's just not that much popular music about being widowed. The part where she sings "I took off my wedding band/and put it on my right hand" still gets me every time. Anyway, so there I was on the cardio machine, and this song came on, and I had to get off and go into the locker room where the sight of old men shaving while standing naked in front of the sink and resting their man parts on the porcelain at least replaced sadness with horror for a few minutes. I'd like to write a country song about this incident and call it "Tears on the Treadmill". Even though it was an elliptical machine.

R.E.M. Live

brendanhalpin — Thu, 01 Nov 2007 14:25:44 GMT

Live albums are almost always disappointing because they boil a multi-sensory experience down to one sense. Something that seemed great with the bass pummeling your chest and the scent of spilled beer in your nose and the lead singer doing cartwheels often doesn't sound great when you're only getting the audio input.

Concert movies fare a little better because they at least engage one other sense, but nothing can fully convey the concert experience.

R.E.M. have released both in a nice CD/DVD package, and, as you might expect from the post-Bill Berry model R.E.M., the results are pretty mixed.

I have to admit that I've filed R.E.M. in the "lost their mojo" file for a while now, and so it's an unexpected thrill to see Michael Stipe, in inexplicable Riddler makeup, cavorting around the stage, flirting with the audience, and putting on a performance that's not just professional, but joyful and exciting to watch.

Stipe leaves it all on the stage for the entire performance. Peter Buck and Mike Mills, however, exhibit slightly less showmanship than the animatronic heads of state at Disney World's Hall of Presidents.

But that's okay, because it's all about Michael Stipe. At least that's how the DVD is edited. CD and DVD (the CD is simply the audio from the DVD performance) open strong with "I Took Your Name." They then shift into a couple of newer songs, "So Fast, So Numb" and "Boy in the Well." On the CD, this crashes the set. On the DVD, Stipe's showmanship and the excitement of the audience at a concert that's just begun carry through this rough patch.

This problem recurs throughout the program. The old songs still pack a punch, and the crowd roars its approval and sings along whenever an old favorite comes up and responds politely and respectfully to the new stuff. After a couple of listens and viewings, I politely and respectfully reached for the fast-forward button when the new stuff came up.

The set list remains the big problem throughout the CD and DVD. The DVD has the additional problem of hyperkenetic editing, which is cool and exciting for the first few songs and somewhat nauseating after an hour or so. I honestly don't think there is a single shot on the DVD that lasts longer than three seconds, and a lot of these are handheld zoom-in-zoom-out shots. Maybe I'm just old, but I found myself yelling at the DVD-"Can we just see Peter Buck play the freaking solo? Why am I looking at a closeup of Michael Stipe's shoes?"

After the high point of "Orange Crush", the entire thing comes crashing down as Michael Stipe announces two protest songs are coming. "Great," I thought, "'Ignoreland' and "World Leader Pretend" perhaps?" Sorry; instead we get two dreary numbers, "I Wanted to Be Wrong" and "Final Straw." We know this is the important part of the show because the lyrics are projected on screens above the stage. This from the band that didn't include lyric sheets for decades. I'd just like to venture that if you feel like you have to project the lyrics, the song probably isn't working.

For the most part, then, this project works on the songs you like, and it doesn't work on the songs you don't like. For me, 12 out of 22 tracks are keepers. It's annoying to me that "Don't Go Back To Rockville," one of my favorites, isn't one of the keepers, because Mike Mills sings it, and let's just say there's a reason why he's not the usual lead singer. This works better on the DVD because he's obviously psyched to step briefly into the spotlight and he dons a cowboy hat and it's kind of fun, but absent the visuals, his vocal shortcomings are hard to ignore.

Speaking of vocal shortcomings, Michael Stipe's voice sounds like hell on several tracks--he's mostly hitting the notes, but there's a hoarse, gravelly tone to his voice that's a kind of shocking contrast to the clear tone we're used to. Why the hell can't rock and roll singers take care of their voices? I mean, if you're Lemmy, okay, you don't have far to fall, so smoke and scream all you want, but I think artists who expect decades-long performing careers owe it to their audiences to take better care of their voices.

I guess, and I hate to say this because I have a lot of affection for this band, this project does very little to change my impression that this is a band in decline. I understand why they chose to include so much new material, but they have such a deep catalog that I think a set where they gave inspired performances of inspired songs might have done more to put the world on notice that this is a band that still matters.

Here's my favorite track from the CD:

Night of the Vampire

brendanhalpin — Wed, 31 Oct 2007 16:53:15 GMT

Well, one more Roky Erickson song before we call a halt to October. This is actually not his scariest song (That is "Bloody Hammer" which I think is about a haunted insane asylum and is actually too horrifying for me to listen to very often), but I think it's a great one to have playing in your brain when you're out trick-or-treating. Or handing out candy. Or walking on a deserted path in the dark. What always makes Roky's stuff work in a way that other artists' forays into horror don't is that he really sounds like he believes this stuff. Just check out his vocal here; he certainly sounds like a guy who believes vampires are real.

So, enjoy: this is my big Halloween decoration, since the kids made me take down the severed head impaled on a "No Trespassing" sign. (Really. I loved this thing, and it just terrified them. Sigh...)

I've Got a Woody...

brendanhalpin — Tue, 30 Oct 2007 01:29:58 GMT

...Guthrie album! Apologies for the seventh grade boner joke. And now, on to the review!

When Woody Guthrie was dying, Bob Dylan used to go to his hospital room and play for him. Dylan has said he was essentially a living Woody Guthrie jukebox at that time. This probably tells you everything you need to know about Woody Guthrie's influence on not only folk music (Pete Seeger was another disciple), but also rock and roll. Woody Guthrie leads to Dylan, Springsteen, Mellencamp, Billy Bragg, CCR ("Don't Look Now (It Ain't You or Me)" could totally be a Woody Guthrie song)and many more. Pretty much any popular music in the folk or rock traditions with a political bent begins with Woody Guthrie.

So a new live recording of Woody Guthrie in concert in Newark in 1949 is a really important find. There are only two other extant live recordings of Woody Guthrie, and since he made his living connecting with audiences, it really is a revelation to hear him in his element. The recording has been issued by the Guthrie Archive, and it's lovingly packaged with a beautiful and informative booklet.

But, um, here's the thing. Is important the same thing as entertaining? This performance is, decades earlier, obviously, in the VH1 Storytellers vein. Woody's wife Marjorie serves as the emcee, and Woody talks about the composition of the songs. And talks. And talks. About half of the tracks are not songs, but, spoken word intros or stories. It's of great historical and artistic interest to hear about how Woody wrote his songs, and these little stories are pretty fun to listen to once. But I don't really see myself listening to them more than once.

The first track, a spoken intro by Woody and Marjorie, lasts fifteen long minutes.You could almost perform "In a Gadda Da Vida" or, more to the point, "Alice's Restaurant" in that amount of time. What's cool about this is that in Woody's rap, you can hear not only how Arlo's voice sounds like his dad, but you can hear how Arlo's storytelling style developed from listening to his dad. I swear I half expected Woody to start talking about 8 by 10 color glossies with the circles and the arrows, etc. But, again, how often are you going to want to spend 15 minutes of your life listening to this?

Still, it's kind of cool to see what the spoken parts reveal about Woody and Marjorie. (Marjorie: kind of annoying! Woody: kind of a dick!) Mostly it's heartening to hear how much genuine empathy and outrage fueled Woody's songrwiting.

So all the spoken word stuff works very well as history and has pretty dubious entertainment value.

The songs, on the other hand, are really quite good, particularly in the second half of the program, where the political songs really come out. What's great about these is that they aren't just earnest sloganeering; they put a human face on injustice. Because Guthrie never lost touch with the storytelling/balladeer tradition, his political songs are usually stories of how injustice affects actual people. Ultimately, though, the songs comprise only ten of the eighteen tracks here. "Tom Joad," "1913 Massacre," and "Jesus Christ" are all great, as is the track below, my favorite on the whole album. It's the dying words of miners trapped in a mine that's suffered a disaster brought on by the owner's greed and negligence.

Sadly, though, the Guthrie archive isn't making individual tracks available for download, so if you want the cool songs, you'll have to shell out 30 bucks (!!) for the entire deluxe package. So I guess I can only recommend this to big fans of Woody Guthrie, serious music historians, or folks with a serious interest in recording technology. (Apparently the technology used to record the performance is some weird outdated recording thing that I got incredibly bored reading about after like two sentences.) The album is available only from the Guthrie Archive.

If You Have Ghosts

brendanhalpin — Tue, 23 Oct 2007 15:14:38 GMT

So I was going to call my whole Halloween project to a halt because Sunday October 21 was the fourth anniversary of my late wife Kirsten's death from breast cancer. (I never say "passing" because a)it implies an afterlife she didn't believe in and b) it just reminds me of farting, which doesn't seem appropriately serious for what actually happened.)

So, Kirsten's deathday having passed, I was feeling a little better and more able to focus on how incredibly lucky I am now to have this big blended family, and I kind of wanted to give the monsters a rest.

And then there was an outbreak of grief here on MOG. I didn't know Chris at all-(social networking is a bit dicey for those of us who are by nature antisocial)but I've been moved by all of the sadness floating around here, and I wanted to offer up a Halloweeny track that I find strangely uplifting.

Roky Erickson's lyrics are usually pretty easy to decipher: there's not a lot of ambiguity in "Night of the Vampire" or "Creature With the Atom Brain" or "Burn the Flames." But sometimes, as in "Two Headed Dog," or "White Faces," or here, he gets downright gnomic.

So what the hell is "If You Have Ghosts" about? I have no freaking idea, but here's what I get out of it, which I admit may be light years from what Roky intended.

"If you have ghosts, then you have everything."

I take this to mean if you are haunted by the memories of people you've lost, it's because you made a real connection with them. And if you've lost them, you understand how precious every connection that you still have is. And, ultimately, there's nothing else important in the world. So, if you have ghosts, then you have everything.

Here's to your ghosts, and mine.

SUC: Rocktober 21

brendanhalpin — Mon, 22 Oct 2007 00:58:06 GMT

A while back I picked Tegan and Sara's "Walking With a Ghost" for a spooky Halloween song, and given that it's still Sunday, at least for another three hours here on the East Coast, I thought I'd share the White Stripes cover. Overall, I prefer the original--this one, as you might expect, rocks harder, but Jack just doesn't sound all that haunted to me--he's just rockin' out. I do like the fact that he changes the lyric to "please don't exist," which suggests he's taking the whole ghost thing more literally than Tegan and Sara did. Anyway, here's the video, which is kind of crappy, but the song rocks out. Enjoy!

I Read Better Stuff Than This On MOG every freakin' day

brendanhalpin — Fri, 19 Oct 2007 21:25:35 GMT

I just read the dumbest thing in the New Yorker, and I had to vent. The thesis of this article, if I understand it correctly, is that indie rock has forsaken black music influences. Apparently this happened in the 90's--white rockers stopped incorporating black music into their music because they couldn't rap like Snoop Dog. I'm not making this up.

Now, I don't care about this question much, but what bugs me about the article is that it's bad reasoning and bad writing, and this guy gets paid by a prestigious publication to write crap like this, and I don't.

He dismisses rap-rock as irrelevant to his thesis because it sucks horribly. Agreed, but Linkin Park, Limp Bizkit and Korn have sold millions of records and ruled the airwaves for a few very ugly years. Hardly supports the thesis that white rockers aren't showing their black music influences since the 90's. He ignores Beck and the White Stripes completely because they both incorporate traditionally black music into their music and therefore don't fit the thesis, but how can you possibly make some half-baked pronouncement about indie rock while ignoring these two acts? I guess you can if you're the New Yorker's music critic.

About halfway through the article, he bashes the hell out of Wilco and Yankee Hotel Foxtrot in particular. Finally, it seems, we get to the raison d'etre of the whole stupid article--he wants to kill a sacred cow and piss people off. Now, I like Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, but I dig the whole idea of pissing off the Tweedyites. But did he have to dress it up in this piece of crap, full-of-holes article? Couldn't he just write an article about how he doesn't think one of the best albums of the 00's is any good? Grrr.