http://popblerd.com/2013/03/20/blisterd-the-100-best-albums-of-the-70s-part-seven/
Released one month before the end of the decade, The Wall is
the ultimate in seventies prog-rock excess, neatly packaged for a mass
audience. It is a concept album taken to its limits, replete with an
extravagant stage construction, a theatrical production including an
ensemble of dramatic characters, a full orchestra, and eventually a
feature-length film directed by Alan Parker. Released three years after
the punk rebellion against such pretentious endeavors, the double album
scoffs at punk’s minimalism and is unapologetic in its excess and
pretense. The genius of the album is that its ostensible narrative is
one that challenges the ethos of arena rock and the barriers between
musicians and their audience in the genre, while simultaneously
luxuriating in those very excesses. The Wall brutally
criticizes the very thing that it exemplifies. In “Outside the Wall,”
the final track and narrative denouement of the album, Roger Waters
offers a glimmer of hope and a call to arms after over an hour of
despair, pleading that “the bleeding hearts and the artists take their
stand.” This anti-establishment idealism was seductive enough for over
thirty million fans to demonstrate their commitment to those ideals, and
shell out twenty bucks to the Columbia Recording Corporation.
Sunday, March 24, 2013
Review of Blood on the Tracks
http://popblerd.com/2013/03/21/blisterd-the-100-best-albums-of-the-70s-part-eight/
Nothing motivates Dylan to write a great song like estranged love. On Blonde on Blonde (1966), Dylan offered a handful of bitter tunes about erstwhile lovers, but Blood on the Tracks is a masterpiece of bile and vitriol. Dylan was going through a turbulent breakup with his wife Sara, and the subsequent resentment pours out of him on the album. On “Idiot Wind,” he suggests that there’s “an idiot wind blowing every time you move your teeth. You’re an idiot babe, it’s a wonder that you still know how to breathe.” However, the more subtle assholery of “You’re a Big Girl Now” demonstrates just how petulant, condescending, and patronizing one can be in public towards one’s spouse. In the hands of a less skillful songwriter, the line “I’m going out of my mind with a pain that stops and starts, like a corkscrew to my heart ever since we’ve been apart” might seem like the schmaltzy drivel of a drama queen’s high school journal. When Dylan sings it, however, his tongue is firmly wedged in his cheek. There is no hint of sincerity in his voice, and the listener knows that he does not believe her to be a “big girl” in any sense of the word. I’m not sure of the actual biography (Dylan is notoriously vague and misleading about his personal history); however, I doubt that Sara would have been able to take him back even after Dylan wrote a relatively sincere love song in her name on his next album, Desire (1977), released just twelve months later. The title of Blood on the Tracks evokes imagery of someone having been hit by a train. Ostensibly, the blood is Bob’s, but the album suggests that Dylan was at the helm.
Nothing motivates Dylan to write a great song like estranged love. On Blonde on Blonde (1966), Dylan offered a handful of bitter tunes about erstwhile lovers, but Blood on the Tracks is a masterpiece of bile and vitriol. Dylan was going through a turbulent breakup with his wife Sara, and the subsequent resentment pours out of him on the album. On “Idiot Wind,” he suggests that there’s “an idiot wind blowing every time you move your teeth. You’re an idiot babe, it’s a wonder that you still know how to breathe.” However, the more subtle assholery of “You’re a Big Girl Now” demonstrates just how petulant, condescending, and patronizing one can be in public towards one’s spouse. In the hands of a less skillful songwriter, the line “I’m going out of my mind with a pain that stops and starts, like a corkscrew to my heart ever since we’ve been apart” might seem like the schmaltzy drivel of a drama queen’s high school journal. When Dylan sings it, however, his tongue is firmly wedged in his cheek. There is no hint of sincerity in his voice, and the listener knows that he does not believe her to be a “big girl” in any sense of the word. I’m not sure of the actual biography (Dylan is notoriously vague and misleading about his personal history); however, I doubt that Sara would have been able to take him back even after Dylan wrote a relatively sincere love song in her name on his next album, Desire (1977), released just twelve months later. The title of Blood on the Tracks evokes imagery of someone having been hit by a train. Ostensibly, the blood is Bob’s, but the album suggests that Dylan was at the helm.
Review of Born to Run
http://popblerd.com/2013/03/22/blisterd-the-100-best-albums-of-the-70s-part-nine/
According to legend, the title track of Born to Run was nearly declared the official song of the State of New Jersey. The irony of this legend (which seems to at least have some basis in fact) is of course that the song is about getting the hell out of New Jersey—“it’s a death trap, it’s a suicide rap, we gotta get out while we’re young.” The title track is an absolute masterpiece, and there may well be three songs on the album that I like better. Diehard Springsteen fans tend to like his three subsequent albums better—Darkness on the Edge of Town (1978), The River (1980) , Nebraska (1982)— but I always preferred Born to Run because of its sonic scope. Before he adopted his “stripped down” sound, he had to have something to strip down in the form of enormous soundscapes and theatrical melodrama that rival anything that Queen or Meatloaf offered. (It is no coincidence that two E Street Band members are musicians on Bat out of Hell (Epic, 1977)). This melodrama reaches its apex during the closing track, “Jungleland,” but the grandiose piano arpeggios of “The Professor” and the soaring sax playing of the “Big Man” in that song would not have their power without the album’s humble beginnings. “Thunder Road” starts with a harmonica and a simple piano melody. The lyrics are picturesque Americana: “The screen door slams, Mary’s dress waves. Like a vision she dances across the porch as the radio plays.” The movement of the album, both lyrically and sonically, from that porch to the urban chaos of “Jungleland” is enormous, but the question of whether crossing the river to the Jersey side was worth it remains unanswered.
According to legend, the title track of Born to Run was nearly declared the official song of the State of New Jersey. The irony of this legend (which seems to at least have some basis in fact) is of course that the song is about getting the hell out of New Jersey—“it’s a death trap, it’s a suicide rap, we gotta get out while we’re young.” The title track is an absolute masterpiece, and there may well be three songs on the album that I like better. Diehard Springsteen fans tend to like his three subsequent albums better—Darkness on the Edge of Town (1978), The River (1980) , Nebraska (1982)— but I always preferred Born to Run because of its sonic scope. Before he adopted his “stripped down” sound, he had to have something to strip down in the form of enormous soundscapes and theatrical melodrama that rival anything that Queen or Meatloaf offered. (It is no coincidence that two E Street Band members are musicians on Bat out of Hell (Epic, 1977)). This melodrama reaches its apex during the closing track, “Jungleland,” but the grandiose piano arpeggios of “The Professor” and the soaring sax playing of the “Big Man” in that song would not have their power without the album’s humble beginnings. “Thunder Road” starts with a harmonica and a simple piano melody. The lyrics are picturesque Americana: “The screen door slams, Mary’s dress waves. Like a vision she dances across the porch as the radio plays.” The movement of the album, both lyrically and sonically, from that porch to the urban chaos of “Jungleland” is enormous, but the question of whether crossing the river to the Jersey side was worth it remains unanswered.
Letter to The Editor--The Current
http://theonlinecurrent.com/letter-to-the-editor-paying-attention-to-diversity-on-campus/
At our most recent faculty meeting, President Eastman made the assertion that in order for Eckerd College to succeed in the long term, it needed to attract a body of students that more closely reflected the rapidly changing demographics of the United States.
Despite my inherent distrust of administrators, I was heartened and even inspired by an administrator who shares my aspirations for a more diverse campus and who is dedicated to the broader principles of a liberal arts education.
Two days after our meeting, Eckerd College prepared for its annual Family Weekend. As part of the weekend of celebration, the college proudly displayed a wide array of state and national flags in order to represent symbolically the geographical diversity of the college.
Included in the display of flags was the “official” state flag of Mississippi. While many of the southern flags still allude to the “Stars and Bars” in their flags, (Florida still maintains the red cross from its days as part of the Confederacy), Mississippi is the only state that still includes the entire flag of the Confederate States of America as part of its flag’s design.
By no means do I want to pick on the Magnolia State; however, I do want to suggest a disconnect between the admirable discourse that administrators at Eckerd College promote verbally, and the implicit discourses of racism, segregation and violence that proudly flying “rebel” flag evokes.
By raising the “Stars and Bars” in any form, Eckerd College runs the risk of discouraging certain students from applying to Eckerd or matriculating to this remarkable institution.
The flag potentially deters not only African Americans whose ancestors were directly affected by the horrors of the Confederacy and Jim Crow laws, but also students of all colors who are committed to the ideals of social justice and equality—pillars of the liberal arts principles that Eckerd vociferously promotes.
Supporters of the Confederate flag claim that the flag represents the “tradition” of The American South and not its brutally violent and racist past.
However, the flag has too much history to separate this history from its most visible symbol.
The swastika has a rich history in Indian spirituality; however, despite this history, the horrors of Nazi Germany remain deeply imbedded in the symbol. To those who are insistent upon the importance of “tradition,” I propose that Eckerd flies The Magnolia Flag in order to honor the “tradition” of the state through a sign that is much less wrought with the unavoidable baggage of the “Confederate Flag.”
If Eckerd truly wants to attract a broader swath of traditionally college-aged students, it should commit to being an international liberal arts college, and sever all ties to the “Old South” and no longer allow any version of the Confederate Flag in any official capacity on its campus.
At our most recent faculty meeting, President Eastman made the assertion that in order for Eckerd College to succeed in the long term, it needed to attract a body of students that more closely reflected the rapidly changing demographics of the United States.
Despite my inherent distrust of administrators, I was heartened and even inspired by an administrator who shares my aspirations for a more diverse campus and who is dedicated to the broader principles of a liberal arts education.
Two days after our meeting, Eckerd College prepared for its annual Family Weekend. As part of the weekend of celebration, the college proudly displayed a wide array of state and national flags in order to represent symbolically the geographical diversity of the college.
Included in the display of flags was the “official” state flag of Mississippi. While many of the southern flags still allude to the “Stars and Bars” in their flags, (Florida still maintains the red cross from its days as part of the Confederacy), Mississippi is the only state that still includes the entire flag of the Confederate States of America as part of its flag’s design.
By no means do I want to pick on the Magnolia State; however, I do want to suggest a disconnect between the admirable discourse that administrators at Eckerd College promote verbally, and the implicit discourses of racism, segregation and violence that proudly flying “rebel” flag evokes.
By raising the “Stars and Bars” in any form, Eckerd College runs the risk of discouraging certain students from applying to Eckerd or matriculating to this remarkable institution.
The flag potentially deters not only African Americans whose ancestors were directly affected by the horrors of the Confederacy and Jim Crow laws, but also students of all colors who are committed to the ideals of social justice and equality—pillars of the liberal arts principles that Eckerd vociferously promotes.
Supporters of the Confederate flag claim that the flag represents the “tradition” of The American South and not its brutally violent and racist past.
However, the flag has too much history to separate this history from its most visible symbol.
The swastika has a rich history in Indian spirituality; however, despite this history, the horrors of Nazi Germany remain deeply imbedded in the symbol. To those who are insistent upon the importance of “tradition,” I propose that Eckerd flies The Magnolia Flag in order to honor the “tradition” of the state through a sign that is much less wrought with the unavoidable baggage of the “Confederate Flag.”
If Eckerd truly wants to attract a broader swath of traditionally college-aged students, it should commit to being an international liberal arts college, and sever all ties to the “Old South” and no longer allow any version of the Confederate Flag in any official capacity on its campus.
Friday, March 1, 2013
February Media Journal
Barenaked Ladies.
Shoe Box E.P. Reprise, 1996.
Andy Sullivan. Private Wars. Andy Sullivan Music, 2005.
Feasey, Rebecca. Masculinity and Popular Television.
Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2008.
Freeman, Phil,
ed. Marooned: The Next Generation of
Desert Island Discs. Cambridge, MA: Da Capo Press, 2007.
House of Lies [Season 2]. Creator
Matthew Carnahan. Refugee Productions, 2013.
Neil Young &
Crazy Horse. Psychedelic Pill.
Reprise, 2012.
Holy Motors. Dir. Leos Carax. Pierre
Grise Productions, 2012.
Fine Young
Cannibals. The Raw and the Cooked.
I.R.S. Records, 1990.
Zero Dark Thirty. Dir. Kathryn Bigelow.
Columbia Pictures, 2012.
George Harrison: Living in the Material
World. Dir. Martin Scorsese. Grove Street Pictures, 2011.
Community [Season 4]. Creator Dan
Harmon. Krasnoff Foster Productions, 2013.
Good Dick. Dir. Marianna Palka. Good
Dick Production, 2008.
David Cross: Let America Laugh. Dirs.
Lance Bangs & David Cross. Sub Pop Records, 2003.
John Cafferty and
the Beaver Brown Band. Extended Versions.
BMG, 2005.
Gournelos, Ted. Popular Culture and the Future of Politics:
Cultural Studies and the Tao of South Park. New York: Lexington books,
2009.
Slobberbone. Everything you Thought was Right was Wrong
Today. New West Records, 2000.
Screaming Trees. Sweet Oblivion. Epic, 1992.
Page One: Inside the New York Times.
Dir. Andrew Rossi. Participant Media, 2011.
Harvey Danger. Where Have All the Merrymakers Gone? Fontana
London, 1998.
The Descendents. Everything Sucks. Epitaph, 1996.
Chasing Ice. Dir. Jeff Orlowski. Diamond
Docs, 2012.
The Vicious Kind. Dir. Lee Toland
Krieger. 72nd Street Productions, 2009.
Young, Paul. The Cinema Dreams its Rivals: Media Fantasy
Films from Radio to the Internet. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota
Press, 2006.
Low. The Curtain Hits the Cast. Vernon Yard,
1996.
Harrison, George.
Cloud Nine. Dark Horse Records, 1987.
Nada Surf. Let Go. Barsuk Records, 2003.
A Very Harold and Kumar 3D Christmas.
Dir. Todd Strauss-Schulson. New Line Cinema, 2011.
Miller, Toby. Television Studies: The Basics. New
York: Routledge, 2010.
Guided by Voices.
Under the Bushes under the Stars.
Matador Records, 1996.
Tegan and Sara. Heartthrob. Warner Bros., 2013.
Waiting for Superman. Dir. Davis
Guggenheim. Electric Kinney Films, 2010.
Camper Van
Beethoven. La Costa Perdida. 429
Records, 2012.
The Wire [Season 5]. Creator David
Simon. Blown Deadline Productions, 2008.
Happy Endings [Season 2]. Creator David
Caspe. Fan Fare Productions, 2011.
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