Freaky Trigger updates — yes, you read that right. After dealing with a little of this and that, three new articles for your perusal — Fred S. discusses Mercury Rev’s All is Dream, I tackle that one myself along with efforts from some groups from my past and David R. meditates on the MTV 2001 Video Music Awards. Comments as always are more than welcome.
Last Plane to Jakarta is today and by some distance the best music zine on the ‘net and I’m ashamed for not having linked to it before. Truth to tell I didn’t look at it before because I knew it would be better than what I’m doing, and I was right. Reason enough to try a bit harder.
What is “Panic” about? Dismissed and attacked since its release as small-minded, or snobbish, or even borderline racist, The Smiths’ anti-disco broadside continues to intrigue. On this thread, The Pinefox calls it a “yoking of two ideas” – a revolutionary fantasia and an attack on dance music – and claims that it’s the second of the two that’s made the press running ever since. What he doesn’t ask is how these ideas might fit together.
The origin of the record, also as described on ILM, is Morrissey’s hearing a Radio 1 DJ playing a bit of pop fluff (Wham, apparently) after initial reports of the Chernobyl disaster. This horrified him, and I’ve always heard the song’s verses literally – a vision of England not in revolution but in catastrophe, and a vision tinted with disgust at the ghastly gulf between the potential severity of, well, everything and the shiny escapism of pop. A pop The Smiths were and are tangled in – “Panic” still gets played in discos itself, week-in week-out. more »
various artists, “what’s going on?”
“what’s going on?” is a great song: it was great for our parents; it’s great listening still for us; and it’s especially great if you’ve got a cause. any cause, really. it could be aids, it could be helping victims of terrorism (or, to be more politically correct, victims of failed u.s. military policy in the mid-east). leave it to bono to realize: “bloody hell, it could be BOTH!”
and, oh yes, it is. “what’s going on?” features an a-list of stars, though, really, who let the guy from savage garden in?; if you couldn’t be on tribute to heroes, you’re on here. (if you couldn’t be on here, you’re on the montel williams (!) helmed “we are family”; God knows what michael jackson is doing with his “what more can i give?”; even elvis is reaching from beyond the grave, releasing a single of previously released material such as “if i can dream”) an incredible array of talent — the backstreet boys to nas; britney spears to nelly — take on an incredible song and the results are…well, incredibly bland. a fellow more churlish than myself would say: “surely, the victims have been through enough!” it’s no “voices that care” but it’s still better than “hands across america” — can someone remind me of what that whole thing was about? — and i hope it sells lots and lots of copies and gives equal help to the victims of 9/11/01 and the victims of aids in the african sub-continent.
SUM 41 — In Too Deep
Here’s a snotty little question: If (as suggested by some critics) Blink 182 is the new Replacements (and pardon my incredulity, but if Mark Hoppus & Tom DeLonge can even come close to approximating 1/100th of Paul Westerberg, then I’m the new Iggy Pop, and I’m in sore need of some peanut butter and broken Schlitz bottles RIGHT NOW), would that make Sum 41 the new Husker Du? (And, on an even less serious note, would that make Green Day the new Suicide Commandos? Oh, the mind careens like a coffin beset by roses‘) If they keep on pumping out smart little pop songs like this — ‘like this’ meaning ‘not as seemingly simplistic and three-chord happy as those Blink fellas; I could be a bit biased, yeah’ — then I might forgive them for rapping on their first single. Might.
LOVE HANGOVERS
Neither version of “Love Hangover” has anything very much to do with a hangover. The song, written for Diana Ross and then covered by The Associates, is in that cynical, wonderful tradition of soul songwriting where every metaphor – a moon landing, a jury trial, a police chase, a rainstorm – pointed straight at love. You can imagine one songwriter batting the title to another with a “Now, use that if you can” grin – how after all to match the bleary hammerings of the morning after with the thin, clean flutings of Miss Ross? Do divas even get hangovers?
Sure enough Diana’s version is a sun-through-windows reverie, a cloudy champagne buzz, and you doubt she is waking alone. Three or so minutes (or hours) of bubble and swoon in, Alka-Selzer is served on a silver tray and the song skips into the very lightest kind of sugar-spun funk. It’s tingly and infectious, it makes you want some of what she’s got (which is the idea) – it’s magnificent, mais ce n’est pas l’hangover.
But the Associates, oh! The Associates – their tumbling version is as far from the paralysed thunk of a drink-sore head as you can get, but only because it’s woken still doused and inflamed. Billy MacKenzie flips the original guitar-line into a hysteric’s giggle-riff and scats his way through the song accordingly – which would reduce it to babble, except Rankine keeps the music so tight and tightly wound. The whole is flushed, teetering, filled with a chaotic passion, perpetually bursting. Listen to Ross and you come out warmed – listen to MacKenzie and you come up purged. Neither has very much to do with a hangover – both have a great deal to do with love.
A Loafer’s Discourse: why I’ve not been writing much, why that has to change. Tangentially related to music.
It’s press release time!
BENEFIT CLUB NIGHT ANNOUNCED FOR VICTIMS OF TERRORIST ATTACKS ON USA
LondonIndieUSA
12th October 2001, 8 PM – 1 AM
The Betsey Trotwood, 56 Farringdon Road, London EC1
Nearest Tube: Farringdon
Entry £5
Following the horrifying events of the 11th September, London’s indie community has come together to organize LondonIndieUSA, a benefit night in aid of the victims of the terrorist attacks on America. All proceeds from this club night will go to the International Red Cross.
London’s indie scene has enjoyed strong long-term links with America, with bands crossing the Atlantic in both directions, and fans finding common ground online. Every indie fan in London has friends who have been seriously affected by the recent attacks. This benefit is an attempt to reach out and offer support.
LondonIndieUSA will take place on the 12th October at the Betsey Trotwood pub over two floors. More than a dozen DJs, representing several of London’s regular indie nights, will be taking part. They’ll be playing everything from full-on pop to experimental eclectica, with the emphasis on dancing and fun. Records, memorabilia and booze will be raffled for charity during the evening. Oh, and the Betsey Trotwood is fully licensed until 1 AM!
This is a unique event, a chance for London’s indie scene to show how much the friendship and community Americans have shown us means. The fact that it’s going to be the best indie night out this year is, as they say, a bonus.
Doors open at 8PM and entry is £5.
For more details you can e-mail me – and please do publicise this in any way you want! Thanks.
Pitchfork reviews Basement Jaxx, exhibiting amusing boy’s-club groin-fear: “The shrill, sex-crazed drivel distracts the listener’s ear from the underlying instrumentation, which sometimes has a lot to offer”. Sex-crazed? Blimey! Tart and tasty single-of-the-summer “Romeo” is predictable, shallow, bland and cliched, apparently, but don’t worry, o chastened Jaxx-fans, one or two tracks pass muster. On “Broken Dreams”, f’rinstance, “Sha’s refined, bubbly female vocals are more Stereolab than Salt’N'Pepa” – well, that’s all right then! Though anyone who prefers Stereolab-stereotype ba-ba-ba to “Push It” probably needs Rooty far more than we need to find out what he thinks of it.
Also not recommended: Biggie – “Juicy”, Jeru – “Come Clean”, Royce – “Boom”, Dre – “Xxplosive”, OutKast – “Bombs Over Baghdad”, etc.
(September, 2001)Track-at-a-time pop music reviews, and music links.
This column finished on December 31st, 2005. It was well loved.