Interstate 808

Ian Maleney, in blog form.

The thing about Kim Gordon’s account of her break up with Thurston Moore is that does contain ingredients that make it ripe for sensationalism – Affair! Younger Girl! Interloper in the Sonic Youth circle! Lying Husband! Jilted Wife! etc – should editors choose to make that leap. And so it proved, as music website after music website soon reported on the Gordon-Moore breakup in exactly those sort of exclamatory tones, completely ignoring the fact that the article focused on Gordon as a modern feminist hero rather than an abandoned wife. In an example that showed particular disinterest in the majority of Goodman’s article, the Brooklyn Vegan blog tweeted a link to their coverage of the article under the title ‘Kim Gordon Tells Why She And Thurston Moore Are Divorcing And Stuff’.

While admittedly Moore and Gordon’s split did come as something of a shock to many – not least because it seemed to herald the end of, in Sonic Youth, one of the most important alternative music/modern art projects of the past thirty years – how well does it reflect on music journalism that the most sensationalist facts of one well-written, well-informed piece (commissioned, with actual money no doubt, by Elle) can be skimmed off to create a headline for a hundred other websites?

One of the things I didn’t know I’d hear about though was the quest for beauty, a struggle to achieve aesthetic perfection in an imperfect world. For me, every morning I woke up, the world was too ugly to face. There was dirt, horror and disfigurement everywhere I looked. But after one stiff drink I could leave the house; after two drinks the fear started lifting and then after the third drink I’d feel like an artist. Or to be more precise, I would see the world through the eyes of an artist. And after five drinks, well, take your pick. On a good day I felt like Picasso. But there were all kinds of days. Imagine being Gustav Klimt in Hull, the golden light of the low winter sun at 3pm in the afternoon radiating along the avenues. Imagine being Walter Sickert in Manchester, the violent brown and black smudges radiating from your feet and along canal tow paths. Imagine being Vincent Van Gogh in St Helens. That is something close to victory, something close to beating death.

John Doran on The Quietus.

I don’t always like Doran’s writing and I don’t always like this piece but that’s hardly the point. It’s well worth reading. 

I’m actually constantly alienating people in the noise community with my work as I move forward. Some of my choices have turned off harsh noise folks, drone folks, etc. I can’t be concerned with appealing to any particular micro-audience, and I hope that each of my major release loses a few listeners and gains more. If you’re not turning people off, you’re not progressing.

Pete Swanson talking to The Quietus. 

He’s playing the Twisted Pepper on January 10th. Not to be missed.

(Source: thequietus.com)

On stage, Rihanna has also been getting crowds to chant the names of the tour funders: HTC, River Island and Budweiser. Plug, plug, plug, check, check, cheque. And yesterday, on album release day, Rihanna turned on the Christmas lights at East London’s Westfield Shopping Centre. A source told The Sun: “Rihanna’s thrilled… she knows it’s a big deal.”

“A big deal” – peel it back, and it’s such a gloriously literal phrase. It’s also one apparently to the tune of five million pounds. Even more depressing is the fact that the world’s biggest female pop star sounds utterly beholden to the task at hand – pressing a button in a soulless mall in Stratford.

Jude Rogers writing for The Quietus about Rihanna and corporate culture. I find it so sad that this is what people are force-fed every day of their lives on radio, tv, the internet and just on the street. It’s the kind of thing that makes you think, “the war is over, we lost, it’s every person for themselves now”. And that’s dangerous thinking. 

Perhaps the saddest thing of all is articles like this are so rare. Those with the critical nous to know what is going on, to understand the machine and what it does to people, are silent because they are wary of not appealing to the widest base (or of being called elitist, or of offending PR people, etc). We’re just accepting the culture that we’re given and it’s going to kill us all.  

(Source: thequietus.com)

The Best Interview I've Read With Grizzly Bear

Also one of the best I’ve read with an established indie band in a very long time. Asking tough questions, getting interesting answers.

The Quietus: Surely, with a mode of music that’s as obviously reactive as dance music, the temptation to please the crowd must be enormous.

Jeff Mills: But the idea of people deciding whether they like it or not gets in the way of music being a way of developing musical creativity. Making them happy denies that. I eventually decided they had to be taken out of the equation. The music is for them but your intention should not to be loved by the crowd and to make lots of money.

Nice interview with Jeff Mills over on tQ

I hope to interview Mills again some time in the future, when I’m more prepared, more knowledgeable. I hope it’ll be in person. 

His set at Twisted Pepper the other week was one of the best musical experiences of my life. It had the kind of over-powering musical weight that I’ve only really experienced at the best punk shows, where you’re struggling to breathe and your heart is pumping and your body is moving in ways unrelated to your thoughts. It’s all just happening at a pace you can barely keep up with. You give up control to it.  Punk shows usually last about half an hour, Mills played for over three hours. An unbelievable, mind-melting, life-changing night. 

Most cultural manifestations of desire are typically boring, symptomatic, and even perpetuating of the dominations they claim a wish to alter. In this way, living with restrictions is inevitable. There is no greater self-delusion than believing one could ever be free of restrictions. Any sensation of transcendence is always traceable to an ambivalence toward one domination or other, and in that ambivalence also rests an act of perpetuation. If one acknowledges or takes responsibility for that act of perpetuation - no matter how unavoidable or undesirable - then there is no possibility for transcendence. It becomes moot

Terre Thaemlitz - In Conversation with Ryan Diduck for The Quietus.

Wow. The whole article is great, but that’s a bombshell of a paragraph right there. 

Everywhere we look, we see companies (not to mention reactionary politicians) playing up their chumminess, their just-wanting-to-be-there-for-you, their ethical commitment, their passion, their desire to envelop the customer in glutinous love. The spectacle no longer promises financial or even sexual success as an incentive to spend or borrow money: more perniciously, it insists that it will help us to revert to a state of cosseted infancy. Every ad break is a relentless confection of prelapsarian kitsch, depicting sunnily undulating pasturelands on which uncontaminated food is grown and reared, and tableaux of unadulterated, yet strangely unsatisfying-looking, ‘happiness’ in which no-one is ever asked to deal with a tax return, undertaker, or speeding ticket. Everybody is permanently twenty-eight, drinking bottomless pints of Magners on an endless Sunday afternoon somewhere not too far from Chipping Norton.

Savages - Live At The Shacklewell Arms

From this article on The Quietus

It’s not a bad song is it? Like, it’s alright. Lots of Siouxsie, working knowledge of New York new wave, bit like DA. Does it display “more aggression, desire and determination than pretty much every guitar group you’re likely to see in 2012” Urgh, that’s debatable. 

I’m very wary of this kind of writing. It’s all very, “Oh look, a loud band! How cool!”. I find it very difficult to trust in cases like this. How aware is the person writing (the estimable Luke Turner in this case, a writer I usually like) of the background they are casting these new messiahs against? I mean, is it really such a rare thing to be loud and controlled at the same time? I wouldn’t pretend to have an in-depth knowledge of guitar music in Britain or anywhere else at the minute, it’s not really where my head is at, but it wouldn’t take long to bring up examples of great bands doing interesting things with the dregs of punk rock (Silent Front and White Lung will serve as two examples for the minute). 

Turner however, seems to be casting Savages an the NME light of what it means to be “punk”; all style. A band you could stick on the front cover of your magazine and use to forthrightly proclaim the next post-punk revival. A reaction to all those kids with synths and drippy boys with jangly guitars. That’s very basic, very boring, and it pigeonholes the band before they’re anywhere near fully formed. It’s a linear, blinkered train of thought that does no one any favours.

I guess I wouldn’t care either way if the music was incredible but, ah well, it’s alright. Classic punk references, black clothes, yelping here and there. Meh. A little less of the proclaiming would be cool. Then there’s all the stuff about being a girl band and how that’s a thing worth talking about in itself. “…There’s a real twee thing. Female musicians are put into a kooky box…” - Maybe in your world Mr. Turner, but then I get the impression we are on different planets when it comes to this kind of noise.

In the end I think it seems like this is just a different genre version of what John Elliot called “goofball music”, a journalist looking for the post-punk version of a “commercially acceptable jammer”. I’m probably jumping the gun here and completely over-reacting but like, it really annoys me. We don’t need any more “SAVIOURS OF REAL ROCK”, thanks all the same.