Wednesday, October 10, 2007
To Whom It May Concern
Here is the thing, you are my brothers and sisters. I myself am a follower of Jesus. No, I don't just think hes a great teacher, but he is Lord. So why does this make me happy that the Christian voters are not getting a voice? Two reasons. First, we all saw where this got us now, and it does not matter if the candidate is a Republican or Democrat they all claim they are Christians of some sort. What does this mean then? Can we depend on any candidate to carry out the law of God...probably not. George W. Bush certainly did not and perhaps he wanted to, but the fact is there are three other branches of government that will stop this from happening. The fact is Roe v. Wade will stand because it is not upheld on moral reasoning. The justices decided that abortion must be legal because it would decrease the fatalities. Women were going out and having them done illegally and dangerously, resulting in deaths of themselves and their unborn children. This is why first trimester abortion is legal. Its frustrating for sure! I wish this didn't happen, but I also know that using government to enforce this will not work. I will even say legislating exclusive Christian morals will not save anybody.
That's the point isn't it? We are here to tell our brothers and sisters (oh and I speak of everyone in this world...yes even that no good liberal down the street who watches South Park and went to see the DaVinci code) about Jesus! So what happens if we allow two men to have the same rights in marriage as a man and a woman do? They have the same rights, but if are denied these things does this bring them any closer to Christ? Does this bring them any closer to knowing the God who loved and died for them?
So here is an idea that is not my own. In fact Jesus spoke about it. He said it was the second most important law. Instead of trying to make big laws and try to make the rest of American culture bow to our beliefs why not turn to the brother or sister right next to you and love him or her well. Yes, he or she might not be a Christian. They might be rough around the edges. They may say words like "Fuck, Shit,..." oh my gosh! Try inviting them over. Try just loving them for who they are and expecting nothing in return. Don't even expect them to become a Christian, but love them. Preach the gospel with out words.
This is the most effective way for people to know Christ, if you, a son or daughter of Christ, take time to love your brothers and sisters that struggle through the day to day with you. Lets face it folks we are never going to have a savior on capital hill.
Listening to: "Magic" - Bruce Springsteen
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Technology/Imagery
I once heard this little factoid about how soon (like the year 2050) most of the world will live in cities and a very very tiny population will inhabit everything else. Will the kids in the cities know a wheel barrow? Will they know a chicken? I'm betting not. I'm betting if I walked out of this New York City Starbucks and found a child they would not have experienced a wheel barrow or a chicken.
I know what your thinking: "Okay PJ great we are losing wheel barrows and chickens who gives a flying burrito?" I kind of do! Here's why because when I write songs I absolutely detest referencing any current technology. How lame would it be for a serious songwriter to reference an iPod. When I use the phrase serious songwriter I am not referring to Fergie or any other of the like (especially not the idiot who wrote Umbrella...sorry it gets me heated). So if we lose the wheel barrow culture what do we have left? Probably a lot. This might have been a waste of your time and mine (for you to read, for me to write), but I never want someone to listen to a tune I wrote and not be able to grasp it because they have no idea what the heck a telephone or a television is because (I strongly believe) in the future we will just have chips in our minds that will play music in our heads and play videos on the back of our eyelids and we can talk to people with that chip in our head. This scares me greatly!
Listening to: Elvis Costello - The Delivery Man
Friday, September 7, 2007
You can not stand under my umbrella
It seems that I have been coming into contact with pieces of art that depict “the artist” as this tortured figure. Although I don’t think this is a new realization, but rather I have just been reminded of the “starving artist” stereotype through pieces like “How to Become a Writer”. Lorrie Moore gives the humorous depiction of a young woman (Frances) becoming obsessed with writing, which causes her to embark on a heartbreaking life to make her a better writer. I think Moore makes a great point. This idea is especially relevant in a city like
What has happened is that the iGeneration has become so lazy that the idea of mastering a craft just seems like to much effort. Walk into a museum and see a canvas painted one color, green. Does anyone think this painter is just sitting in his room counting the money he made and snickering to himself? Look at the proliferation of bands and artist that make all their music using Apple’s Garage Band. Lets look at the check list for things needed to make music this way. An Apple computer. Check. Now if you were me you would see the cursor blinking on my computer screen because there is nothing else needed. You don’t need to know an instrument. You don’t need to know anything about music.
Somewhere along the way (maybe with all these technological advances) we have replaced craft with tragedy. Its not really anyone’s fault except our own that this has happened. We all love a tragedy. In music, we all love a sad song. Meet Joe. He is sad and is sitting in his room. He will most likely put on a Dashboard Confessional record and think to himself, “These songs tell the story of my life!” Meet Joe a year later. Joe is happy now. He is still in his room and wants to listen to music. He puts on the same record, and thinks “Thank the Lord I’m not this guy!” All can enjoy those tear jerker songs, but not all can enjoy the happy ones. When I’m happy, sure I will put on a good time song, but when I’m sad it will further push me into the realm of gloominess. Its demographics…that’s it and that’s all.
This point is made in the text by
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Love at First Feel
I first fell in love with Mark when I spent hours and hours bumming music off a friends laptop. I came upon a band named Sun Kil Moon and thought what an interesting name. When I first listened I was blown away by a tune by the name of Glen Tipton. That was the gateway to my obsession with Mark Kozelek.
The point of this blog was to talk about my latest Mark Kozelek experience and that is with his record "What's Next To The Moon". When you listen to it you think its Mark doing what he does best, making heartbreak sound beautiful. I listened to it real late at night so I let the beautiful melodies just fall on me as I closed my eyes. I woke up this morning and decided to investigate (via All Music). I discovered this a record that contains all AC/DC covers. Really?? The same band that released tunes such as "Shook me all Night Long" and "Big Balls". This is coming from Mark Kozelek who released an album called Songs For a Blue Guitar. One word that doesn't exactly exist in the english language but for all purposes should: stokedness. I listened to the AC/DC version of "Love at First Feel" this morning via a you tube video, which featured some anime (whats the deal with songs always being set to anime). Since I don't feel like posting the video on the blog, here is the link. I will research how to post mp3s, but for now just go listen to Sun Kil Moon.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Great use of the F-Bomb
That summer I found I had a gift certificate to a very expensive independent record store in my home town in Connecticut. I decided I should just go in there and use it (the thing was two years old). The problem was it was only for twenty bucks and seeing how most records go for more than twenty bucks in that store I was concerned about being able to get a new record without any extra cash. I went into the store and was just walking around and saw the Ryan Adams bin. I picked up the first record I saw, noticed it was under twenty bucks and purchased that stuff. I popped the record in the car and listened to it. Again on first listen, I wasn't totally impressed. It was a nice CD but it was still slow and at times seemed monotonous, but I loved the rockers and I love the ballad "Come Pick Me Up".
That May I happened to be dropping my little sister off and picking her up at a place thirty minutes away. I took my pops car because it got the best gas mileage and it happened to be the car that I left this new Ryan Adams record in. I ended up listening to the record for about an hour a day four or five days a week. Wow am I thankful for that listening time. I fell in love with this record. Every time I would get home and have a new song stuck in my head.
You might ask what Ryan Adams record is it? There are freaking so many! I didn't notice until later it was the same one I had listened to during finals on Rhapsody...Heartbreaker. So readers, please do yourself a favor and pick up Heartbreaker. It might not grab you on the first listen, but keep listening and I promise you, you will fall in love. One of my best buds picked up the record about the same time I did and were both not immediately grabbed by it, but it is both one of our favorite (or my favorite) records. This is why I believe you have to engage with a record rather than expect it to be immediately pleasurable on the first listen. Maybe one that doesn't hit you right away will turn out to be one you love.
Anyways, one of my favorite tunes from the record is still "Come Pick Me Up". One of the reasons I love it is because it uses the F-bomb so well. I usually am not a fan of cursing in lyrics. Sometimes I feel like its use is merely to cover up the writers lack of creativity of expressing an emotion, but Mr. Adams uses it perfectly. Peep these lyrics.
Take me out
Fuck me up
Steal my records
Screw all my friends behind my back
With a smile on your face
And then do it again
Monday, July 23, 2007
Strange...but good
Although, I don't know how much I believe this. Especially with the way America (I say America because I am American and only really want to speak from that point of view) treats the music industry. We do not treat music as art. Now I could dabble in the stealing of music, but seeing as a lot of people think art should be free it would be an opinionated argument. The evidence for this view as music as entertainment rather than art is reflected by what is popular.
Well what is popular you ask? I don't know we could look at one of the top selling records of 2006, which would be the soundtrack to High School Musical. Well whats the problem with that? The problem is I highly doubt anyone bought that record expecting to experience a piece of art, but rather it was purchased for comfort. Those melodies and harmonies sound so nice in the ear. The melodies and words are simple and catchy enough to sing along to. Its quite comforting really. There's nothing that is really going to challenge you to think. Just sit back press play and listen.
I know some people say there is nothing wrong with this. There really isn't. I'm not saying it makes someone a better person to listen to music to experience art, but the thing is if someone were to listen to a record to experience a piece of art they actually may get more enjoyment out of an album rather than just using it to pass the time while driving a car, walking somewhere, or on an airplane.
I challenge everyone who reads this (which again is Ian and I think my home slice in PA J-Sweeze) to pick out a record that many people consider to be a great record, or a record by a great artist and take the time to sit and listen. Don't do it while doing something else take the time to sit back and listen. You know what listen to it a couple times. Focus on different elements each time. Maybe the first time just get the general flavor. The second time pull up the lyrics and read them a couple times and then listen. Maybe listen to what is sonically going on (listen for nuances). Maybe listen for the melodies.
What is my album for this week to listen to? John Lennon's Imagine. Happy listening!
Friday, July 20, 2007
Henry Rollins v. Iggy Pop
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Dating
Friday, July 13, 2007
Selling Out & Fall Out Boy
First, a primer: When I got your questions, I was provoked. You expressed many of the feelings I used to have, when I was in high school and college, about some of the people I admired at the time, people who at some point disappointed me in some way, or made moves I could not understand. So I took a few passages from your questions - those pertaining to or hinting at "selling out" - and I used them as a launching pad for a rant I've wanted to write for a while now, and more so than ever since my own book has become successful. And the rant was timely, because shortly after getting your questions, I was scheduled to speak at Yale, and so, assuming that their minds might be in a similar spot as yours, I read this, the below, to them, in slightly less polished form. The rant is directed to myself, age 20, as much as it is to you, so remember that if you ever want to take much offense.
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You actually asked me the question: "Are you taking any steps to keep shit real?" I want you always to look back on this time as being a time when those words came out of your mouth.
Now, there was a time when such a question - albeit probably without the colloquial spin - would have originated from my own brain. Since I was thirteen, sitting in my orange-carpeted bedroom in ostensibly cutting-edge Lake Forest, Illinois, subscribing to the Village Voice and reading the earliest issues of Spin, I thought I had my ear to the railroad tracks of avant garde America. (Laurie Anderson, for example, had grown up only miles away!) I was always monitoring, with the most sensitive and well-calibrated apparatus, the degree of selloutitude exemplified by any given artist - musical, visual, theatrical, whatever. I was vigilant and merciless and knew it was my job to be so.
I bought R.E.M.'s first EP, Chronic Town, when it came out and thought I had found God. I loved Murmur, Reckoning, but then watched, with greater and greater dismay, as this obscure little band's audience grew, grew beyond obsessed people like myself, grew to encompass casual fans, people who had heard a song on the radio and picked up Green and listened for the hits. Old people liked them, and stupid people, and my moron neighbor who had sex with truck drivers. I wanted these phony R.E.M.-lovers dead.
But it was the band's fault, too. They played on Letterman. They switched record labels. Even their album covers seemed progressively more commercial. And when everyone I knew began liking them, I stopped. Had they changed, had their commitment to making art with integrity changed? I didn't care, because for me, any sort of popularity had an inverse relationship with what you term the keeping 'real' of 'shit.' When the Smiths became slightly popular they were sellouts. Bob Dylan appeared on MTV and of course was a sellout. Recently, just at dinner tonight, after a huge, sold-out reading by David Sedaris and Sarah Vowell (both sellouts), I was sitting next to an acquaintance, a very smart acquaintance married to the singer-songwriter of a very well-known band. I mentioned that I had seen the Flaming Lips the night before. She rolled her eyes. "Oh I really liked them on 90210," she sneered, assuming that this would put me and the band in our respective places.
However.
Was she aware that The Flaming Lips had composed an album requiring the simultaneous playing of four separate discs, on four separate CD players? Was she aware that the band had once, for a show at Lincoln Center, handed out to audience members something like 100 portable tape players, with 100 different tapes, and had them all played at the same time, creating a symphonic sort of effect, one which completely devastated everyone in attendance? I went on and on to her about the band's accomplishments, their experiments. Was she convinced that they were more than their one appearance with Jason Priestly? She was.
Now, at that concert the night before, Wayne Coyne, the lead singer, had himself addressed this issue, and to great effect. After playing much of their new album, the band paused and he spoke to the audience. I will paraphrase what he said:
"Hi. Well, some people get all bitter when some song of theirs gets popular, and they refuse to play it. But we're not like that. We're happy that people like this song. So here it goes."
Then they played the song. (You know the song.) "She Don't Use Jelly" is the song, and it is a silly song, and it was their most popular song. But to highlight their enthusiasm for playing the song, the band released, from the stage and from the balconies, about 200 balloons. (Some of the balloons, it should be noted, were released by two grown men in bunny suits.) Then while playing the song, Wayne sang with a puppet on his hand, who also sang into the microphone. It was fun. It was good.
But was it a sellout? Probably. By some standards, yes. Can a good band play their hit song? Should we hate them for this? Probably, probably. First 90210, now they go playing the song every stupid night. Everyone knows that 90210 is not cutting edge, and that a cutting edge alternarock band should not appear on such a show. That rule is clearly stated in the obligatory engrained computer-chip sellout manual that we were all given when we hit adolescence.
But this sellout manual serves only the lazy and small. Those who bestow sellouthood upon their former heroes are driven to do so by, first and foremost, the unshakable need to reduce. The average one of us - a taker-in of various and constant media, is absolutely overwhelmed - as he or she should be - with the sheer volume of artistic output in every conceivable medium given to the world every day - it is simply too much to begin to process or comprehend - and so we are forced to try to sort, to reduce. We designate, we label, we diminish, we create hierarchies and categories.
Through largely received wisdom, we rule out Tom Waits's new album because it's the same old same old, and we save $15. U2 has lost it, Radiohead is too popular. Country music is bad, Puff Daddy is bad, the last Wallace book was bad because that one reviewer said so. We decide that TV is bad unless it's the Sopranos. We liked Rick Moody and Jonathan Lethem and Jeffrey Eugenides until they allowed their books to become movies. And on and on. The point is that we do this and to a certain extent we must do this. We must create categories, and to an extent, hierarchies.
But you know what is easiest of all? When we dismiss.
Oh how gloriously comforting, to be able to write someone off. Thus, in the overcrowded pantheon of alternarock bands, at a certain juncture, it became necessary for a certain brand of person to write off The Flaming Lips, despite the fact that everyone knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that their music was superb and groundbreaking and real. We could write them off because they shared a few minutes with Jason Priestley and that terrifying Tori Spelling person. Or we could write them off because too many magazines have talked about them. Or because it looked like the bassist was wearing too much gel in his hair.
One less thing to think about. Now, how to kill off the rest of our heroes, to better make room for new ones?
We liked Guided by Voices until they let Ric Ocasek produce their latest album, and everyone knows Ocasek is a sellout, having written those mushy Cars songs in the late 80s, and then - gasp! - produced Weezer's album, and of course Weezer's no good, because that Sweater song was on the radio, right, and dorky teenage girls were singing it and we cannot have that and so Weezer is bad and Ocasek is bad and Guided by Voices are bad, even if Spike Jonze did direct that one Weezer video, and we like Spike Jonze, don't we?
Oh. No. We don't. We don't like him anymore because he's married to Sofia Coppola, and she is not cool. Not cool. So bad in Godfather 3, such nepotism. So let's check off Spike Jonze - leaving room in our brains for… who??
It's exhausting.
The only thing worse than this sort of activity is when people, students and teachers alike, run around college campuses calling each other racists and anti-Semites. It's born of boredom, lassitude. Too cowardly to address problems of substance where such problems actually are, we claw at those close to us. We point to our neighbor, in the khakis and sweater, and cry foul. It's ridiculous. We find enemies among our peers because we know them better, and their proximity and familiarity means we don't have to get off the couch to dismantle them.
And now, I am also a sellout. Here are my sins, many of which you may know about already:
First, I was a sellout because Might magazine took ads.
Then I was a sellout because our pages were color, and not stapled together at the Kinko's.
Then I was a sellout because I went to work for Esquire.
Now I'm a sellout because my book has sold many copies.
And because I have done many interviews.
And because I have let people take my picture.
And because my goddamn picture has been in just about every fucking magazine and newspaper printed in America.
And now, as far as McSweeney's is concerned, The Advocate interviewer wants to know if we're losing also our edge, if the magazine is selling out, hitting the mainstream, if we're still committed to publishing unknowns, and pieces killed by other magazines.
And the fact is, I don't give a fuck. When we did the last issue, this was my thought process: I saw a box. So I decided we'd do a box. We were given stories by some of our favorite writers - George Saunders, Rick Moody (who is uncool, uncool!), Haruki Murakami, Lydia Davis, others - and so we published them. Did I wonder if people would think we were selling out, that we were not fulfilling the mission they had assumed we had committed ourselves to?
No. I did not. Nor will I ever. We just don't care. We care about doing what we want to do creatively. We want to be interested in it. We want it to challenge us. We want it to be difficult. We want to reinvent the stupid thing every time. Would I ever think, before I did something, of how those with sellout monitors would respond to this or that move? I would not. The second I sense a thought like that trickling into my brain, I will put my head under the tires of a bus.
You want to know how big a sellout I am?
A few months ago I wrote an article for Time magazine and was paid $12,000 for it I am about to write something, 1,000 words, 3 pages or so, for something called Forbes ASAP, and for that I will be paid $6,000 For two years, until five months ago, I was on the payroll of ESPN magazine, as a consultant and sometime contributor. I was paid handsomely for doing very little. Same with my stint at Esquire. One year I spent there, with little to no duties. I wore khakis every day. Another Might editor and I, for almost a year, contributed to Details magazine, under pseudonyms, and were paid $2000 each for what never amounted to more than 10 minutes work - honestly never more than that. People from Hollywood want to make my book into a movie, and I am probably going to let them do so, and they will likely pay me a great deal of money for the privilege.
Do I care about this money? I do. Will I keep this money? Very little of it. Within the year I will have given away almost a million dollars to about 100 charities and individuals, benefiting everything from hospice care to an artist who makes sculptures from Burger King bags. And the rest will be going into publishing books through McSweeney's. Would I have been able to publish McSweeney's if I had not worked at Esquire? Probably not. Where is the $6000 from Forbes going? To a guy named Joe Polevy, who wants to write a book about the effects of radiator noise on children in New England.
Now, what if I were keeping all the money? What if I were buying property in St. Kitt's or blew it all on live-in prostitutes? What if, for example, I was, a few nights ago, sitting at a table in SoHo with a bunch of Hollywood slash celebrity acquaintances, one of whom I went to high school with, and one of whom was Puff Daddy? Would that make me a sellout? Would that mean I was a force of evil?
What if a few nights before that I was at the home of Julian Schnabel, at a party featuring Al Pacino and Robert DeNiro, and at which Schnabel said we should get together to talk about him possibly directing my movie? And what if I said sure, let's?
Would all that make me a sellout? Would I be uncool? Would it have been more cool to not go to this party, or to not have written that book, or done that interview, or to have refused millions from Hollywood?
The thing is, I really like saying yes. I like new things, projects, plans, getting people together and doing something, trying something, even when it's corny or stupid. I am not good at saying no. And I do not get along with people who say no. When you die, and it really could be this afternoon, under the same bus wheels I'll stick my head if need be, you will not be happy about having said no. You will be kicking your ass about all the no's you've said. No to that opportunity, or no to that trip to Nova Scotia or no to that night out, or no to that project or no to that person who wants to be naked with you but you worry about what your friends will say.
No is for wimps. No is for pussies. No is to live small and embittered, cherishing the opportunities you missed because they might have sent the wrong message.
There is a point in one's life when one cares about selling out and not selling out. One worries whether or not wearing a certain shirt means that they are behind the curve or ahead of it, or that having certain music in one's collection means that they are impressive, or unimpressive.
Thankfully, for some, this all passes. I am here to tell you that I have, a few years ago, found my way out of that thicket of comparison and relentless suspicion and judgment. And it is a nice feeling. Because, in the end, no one will ever give a shit who has kept shit 'real' except the two or three people, sitting in their apartments, bitter and self-devouring, who take it upon themselves to wonder about such things. The keeping real of shit matters to some people, but it does not matter to me. It's fashion, and I don't like fashion, because fashion does not matter.
What matters is that you do good work. What matters is that you produce things that are true and will stand. What matters is that the Flaming Lips's new album is ravishing and I've listened to it a thousand times already, sometimes for days on end, and it enriches me and makes me want to save people. What matters is that it will stand forever, long after any narrow-hearted curmudgeons have forgotten their appearance on goddamn 90210. What matters is not the perception, nor the fashion, not who's up and who's down, but what someone has done and if they meant it. What matters is that you want to see and make and do, on as grand a scale as you want, regardless of what the tiny voices of tiny people say. Do not be critics, you people, I beg you. I was a critic and I wish I could take it all back because it came from a smelly and ignorant place in me, and spoke with a voice that was all rage and envy. Do not dismiss a book until you have written one, and do not dismiss a movie until you have made one, and do not dismiss a person until you have met them. It is a fuckload of work to be open-minded and generous and understanding and forgiving and accepting, but Christ, that is what matters. What matters is saying yes.
I say yes, and Wayne Coyne says yes, and if that makes us the enemy, then good, good, good. We are evil people because we want to live and do things. We are on the wrong side because we should be home, calculating which move would be the least damaging to our downtown reputations. But I say yes because I am curious. I want to see things. I say yes when my high school friend tells me to come out because he's hanging with Puffy. A real story, that. I say yes when Hollywood says they'll give me enough money to publish a hundred different books, or send twenty kids through college. Saying no is so fucking boring.
And if anyone wants to hurt me for that, or dismiss me for that, for saying yes, I say Oh do it, do it you motherfuckers, finally, finally, finally."
Okay, I know that was long, but here it is some thoughts in relation to Fall Out Boy.
It is curious to me that this record debuted did so well. In my mind the record sales picked up with their second single of the record "Dance, Dance". I know "Sugar We're Going Down" was a hit in its own right, but "Dance, Dance" as a tune that every kid knew no matter if they were a fan of music or not. So someone must have been buying the record...hmm. In addition when I saw the Boys of the Fall Out at a festival the kids who were singing along to the old songs, while making sure to sing loud so all the "newbs" would know they were more hip than those who only knew stuff off "From the Cork Tree", also sang along to the new songs. Another curious thing that makes me wonder if these people who in public are screaming "sellout!" but behind closed doors are loving every second of "From the Cork Tree".
So then we come to the most recent record Fall Out Boy has made. If you have never liked Fall Out Boy you will not like them because of this record, with that being said shouldn't the converse be true. If you like Fall Out Boy you will like this record? I think so. What has changed? Pete Wentz's lyrics are still as ridiculous as ever. I guess the only changes I can think of is that the songs are better, Patrick's voice is really good now, and oh I guess Jay-Z does a typical Jay-Z intro to the record (which is ridiculous but is it a good enough reason to hate a record or is a good reason to laugh? I choose the latter). So why are people screaming sellout? I think Dave Eggers answers this question with his article, so here is where I say refer to the above.
This is there new video. I think its ridiculous for a couple of reasons:
- It is so blatant in the message of, "Hey we didn't sell out"
- I read in an interview Pete Wentz started lifting weights, now he always has his shirt off...
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Dismantle Me Down
I picked up Anberlin's "Cities" sometime this year. They have a reputation for putting out records that a listener will be absolutely stoked on during the first week and then just forget after that. My tastes in particular don't usually lend themselves to heavy rock. I would say that a rock band has to do a lot to make me listen to their record, especially to listen more than once. "Cities" is a record that I find myself continually coming back to. I won't say its the most flooring record ever, but the production is bombastic, the melodies are not the kind to fade from your mine, and the lyrics (while not of the Dylan or Springsteen quality) are very well written.
The reason I bring up this record is because it has one song, that has quickly become my favorite song of the year. The song is called "Dismantle Repair" and I've been wondering about what this chorus means. Fortunately, I found a link to the singers blog entry that supposedly reflects the meaning of this. Here is the chorus:
Lines and phrases, like knives, your words can cut me through
Dismantle me down
Repair
You Dismantle Me
You Dismantle Me"
The other interpretation is the romantic one. I will look at the first line here ("Hands like secrets..."). This could be an obvious point to the singer saying man I just can't keep my hands off of you. I don't know if this takes much more explaining, but in the interest of not having a short paragraph for the romantic interpretation I will expound on something else. I think its very interesting that it seems that artists who are known to be Christians release (notice I didn't use the word write to express that I have no idea at their intent here) music that can be interpreted in the two ways I have chosen to interpret them. There certainly could be more, but whenever I log onto a website that is all about interpreting lyrics these are the two I usually see being discussed/argued. Is this merely an effort by the artist to straddle the two markets (secular and spiritual)? Or is this merely the function of the audience wanting to hear what they want to hear? Christians want to hear spiritual messages in everything. They want to look at any piece of art and see the gospel in it. To be honest this is possible through interpretation, which is a personal matter, but it is very difficult to judge the intent of the artist.
Maybe that's the foul that we commit as listeners, judging intent. I know as a song writer I have specific intent behind all my songs, and I would not be super stoked if someone said they knew exactly what I was thinking and was wrong. Lyrics can be taken so many different ways in this way, but if I had a listener say something along the lines of: "Man those words mean so much to me in this way...". It would be a joy if they saw a different meaning in the tune. Its personal to them and that's great.
So this wasn't too personal, but in conclusion:
- Anberlin's Cities = Great record
- Dismantle Repair = Great tune
- Interpret all you like, but don't speak with authority about intent
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Arkadelphia
Arkadelphia
Thursday, July 5, 2007
Oh politics...
Here is the thing: this man lied (for whatever reasons) to a grand jury, committing perjury. The reasons could be argued over for a while, but it obvious was a reason good enough to lie to a grand jury. I think if you asked people whether lying was good or not most would reply it is not a good thing. Some would call it a sin, while others may just say not really that good (oh relativity), but most would agree this is not a good thing. So why are we arguing over whether it was right or wrong for the president to partially pardon this man. Well first of all, Bush made it so this man would not serve any jail time. He still has to pay $250,000, which is a lot of money, but I have a feeling is going to be a drop in the bucket for this man with all his friends. Basically he has several other punishments (I heard he was losing his license to practice law...that's no birthday present), but I believe jail time is the crux of this punishment.
So "Scooter" (what grown man is called Scooter...alright I digress) gets off for lying. This is wrong. Now I know some may say "Hey you know the beloved Bill Clinton pardoned 140 people who did a lot worse and he also was impeached for perjury!" You might me expect to try to weave around this argument, but I won't. I will say, "My good sir (or madam) you are correct. He did this. That was wrong and it sucks that we are so politicized that people were blind to that and didn't do something about it for it furthered the perception and reality of a bunch of corrupt men hanging out in the District of Columbia." At the same time if you were so pissed off about that (which looking back on it, it does make me quite upset), why is this pardon okay? Why does Bill Clinton's piss poor choices make Bush's alright? It really doesn't. So lets stop the political nonsense and call a spade a spade. What Bush did was flat out wrong. I don't care if we impeach Bush (at this point it would be a giant waste of the public's money), but lets just all agree this was not the right thing to do.
Its that I care if Scooter Libby is wandering the streets. Its not as if I will run into him and think to myself "Oh shoot, Scooter! Better get out of this neighborhood!", but the point is he is the symbol, at the moment, of the corruption that is hanging out in every office of every politician. To be clear, I am not saying every politician is corrupt, but recent happenings gives the general American that point of view. This may be a trite thing to say, but how can I tell my child (future child in my case) about how bad it is to lie when we have our leaders lying? I guess I could try to explain, "See son, money gives you the opportunity to do bad things and justify them by other peoples mistakes."
If anyone read this I bet I would be hit with a lot of probably good points. I hope someone does read this and I can actually be engaged in a logical discussion because to be honest my point of view is not fixed. As for right now I agree with a great songwriter named Derek Webb...
Listening to: Chris Merrit - "Country Music"
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
Songwriting
Two other examples of each style would be Damien Rice and Bruce Springsteen. I have heard another story, not from the mouth of this man but through liner notes on one of his records, that Damien Rice told of how the lyrics to a certain song of his just "pooed" out of him. Indeed, this story was confirmed when in concert Mr. Rice told the story of how he wrote the song "Eskimo Friend". Allegedly, he was asked by a record company to write more "uppers" for a record him and his band were making. He spent the day writing three really "shit" songs and got so frustrated he threw his guitar on the floor. Upon doing so he realized that he did not own this guitar and quickly picked it up and made sure it was okay. As the legend goes the capo happened to be on the fifth fret and he just played the first chord of the song and immediately he sang "Tiredness stills..." and the song literally just fell off his tongue.
In stark contrast is a man that I admire very much, Bruce or "The Boss" if you will. This man has these blue notebooks that are filled with lyrics. The lyrics start as rough drafts and then are refined meticulously to the point of ridiculous. For his masterpiece, "Born To Run" the man continually rewrote the lyrics to make sure he was saying exactly what he wanted to say in the best way possible. This goes hand in and with the music. While he had the basic melodies, chords, and lyrics before going into the studio he arranged them countless different ways. Truly an artist slaving away to write a masterpiece.
Now, here's the point: is there a better way? Is letting music flow naturally out of you the best way to write or is slaving over a song work better. I would say writing requires a work ethic and patience, but it sure feels great to just have an amazing song flow out of you. I know people have different preferences in relation to the four writers mentioned above but you can not argue that many look at each artist as great in the realm of songwriting.
I don't want to answer that (mostly because I don't have an answer), but I can share my experience. Due to events in my life (some amazing, some stressful) I began to fill my black notebook just up with ideas beginning this April. Lyrics began to flow naturally out of me and I wrote everything down. Melodies just came to my head as well as chord changes. It seems interesting to me that this just seemed to happen as of April 1st. Now its only three months down the road but looking back I see several reasons for this. First, the events in my life gave me a lot of things to write about. In other words, I needed to get these ideas and things out on paper to sort out how I felt about them. As cliche as this might sound, I was using music as therapy. Secondly, musically I came to a new stone in maturity. What I was listening to had expanded from the single genre of melodic rock to many other things. I had a much larger palette to choose from and it enabled me to write more. Thirdly (or maybe a part of the last thing) I had skill wise improved. I had found my voice vocally. I had come to place where I enjoyed singing and felt like I had a grasp on it (not an expert but at least on a road that I enjoyed). I also had a better understand of music and what things to play to evoke certain feelings. All these things helped music flow more naturally.
At this point you are probably saying okay so he is in the McCartney school, but here's the thing: I don't want to be in the McCartney school. Like most people of my generation I am obsessed with being in the center. I am not making myself be in this place but I felt pulled toward that. While I have written a lot over the past three months I do not believe any of these songs are finished. At some point I need to stop writing new things and go over everything I have and really work on the lyrics. Like one of my song writing heroes, Mr. Springsteen, I need to take my notebook and (possibly with a new notebook) rewrite the song until I am at a place where I am saying what I want to say, with the best language possible. I then need to really solidify melodies. I would go on to talk about arrangements, but I do not have a band to do such a thing with...yet.
So I guess I would just like to hear what my fellow songwriters or maybe just listeners think about these ideas. If your a writer what do you tends toward? What do you want to tend toward? As a listener, if you know what a certain favorite writer of yours tends toward how do you think that effects the music? Any other comments or responses are appreciated.
Listening to: Ryan Adams - Easy Tiger