Tuesday, November 29, 2005
When I Think About Me I Touch Myself
Along with fellow judges Dave and Matt, I was a college radio guy. From 1989 to 1993, when I wasn't in class or sleeping, I was usually at Middlebury College's WRMC--on the air, in the office going through new releases before they were put out for the djs, combing through the record stacks for forgotten gems, reading Rockpool or College Music Journal (CMJ) in the lounge.
Douglas Wolk was a college dj in the late 1980s, just before my time, and he was managing editor of CMJ during the mid-1990s, just after. Now he writes for Slate, including this recent piece that brings back a lot of memories. This description struck me:
Douglas Wolk was a college dj in the late 1980s, just before my time, and he was managing editor of CMJ during the mid-1990s, just after. Now he writes for Slate, including this recent piece that brings back a lot of memories. This description struck me:
At my old station, we were pretty sure the studio's control panel had been welded together from archaic dishwasher parts, but the staff happily argued for hours over the merits of records pressed in editions of 500 copies, and we'd stay on the air for nine hours straight if the DJs scheduled after us had overslept.That was WRMC, down to the last dishwasher part. It was a fun place, and a great time to discover the possibilities of rock and roll beyond commercial radio and MTV, in that insanely fertile period roughly between Sonic Youth signaling the end of the 80s underground by signing to Geffen and Nirvana breaking the scene wide open a couple of years later. College radio was the perfect hobby for a relatively solitary, late bloomer like me--in other words, the perfect place to hide. Rock and roll's been performing that function on misfit youth for decades, and it certainly did the trick for me.
Monday, November 28, 2005
Definition Of An Honest Republican
Pleading guilty in federal court today after months of denials, CA Congressman Randy "Duke" Cunningham flat-out admitted to:
Just imagine what tales Wonder Woman's magic lasso could tease from the lips of Turd Blossom, Vice and the Bug Man. (Or are those Batman villains?)
- income tax evasion
- mail fraud
- wire fraud
- bribery of public officials
- accepting bribes
Just imagine what tales Wonder Woman's magic lasso could tease from the lips of Turd Blossom, Vice and the Bug Man. (Or are those Batman villains?)
Three Guitar Assault Enshrined
Yes, the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame is ridiculous, irrelevant, and in a fundamental way antithetical to the spirit of the music. Still, each year I review the news of the Hall's newest elections with mild interest--and usually mild frustration. I've spent the last couple of weeks with my head buried in obscure indie rock 45s from the early 90s for a giant compliation Matt and I are putting together, so it's a little funny to consider the mainstreamiest of mainstream rock for a change.
This year is all about housecleaning, as a number of important, popular acts make the cut after years of waiting. (Artists are first eligible for the Hall 25 years after the release of their debut record.) This round finally sees Black Sabbath (1969), Lynyrd Skynyrd (1973) and the Sex Pistols (1976) enter the Hall, while the Stooges, godfathers of punk, are once again left out. Perhaps the Hall is saving Iggy's band for 2012, when they'll be trying to decide which acts from 1987* deserve to be canonized. Other worthy musicians made to wait include the Patti Smith Group and Grandmaster Flash. (We're about to see the Hall start to wrestle with the place of rap and hip hop in the rock canon--of course it is rock and roll, but many of the Hall voters who have spent recent years sleepily voting in James Taylor and the Eagles may not see it that way.) Gram Parsons didn't even make the list of nominees this time around--after being beaten out by the likes of the Pretenders last year. It's all enormously arbitrary, and not really worth getting too upset about. And at least the Hall has had the good sense to utterly ignore prog rock, aside from Pink Floyd.
The Hall is really--aside from being a revenue maker for its owners--just a parlor game for thinking about who and what should be valued in rock and roll--halfway between the baseball Hall of Fame and the American Music Awards. The Rock Hall doesn't have the reams of statistics that sports generate--there are only record sales, which are useless as an indicator of artistic influence and impact. So it's all conjecture, no different than casual music fans sitting around talking about their favorite groups, except invariably blander. Anyway, in a few months we'll probably get to see Ozzy and his band perform Iron Man backed by Billy Joel, Eddie Vedder, Johnny Rotten and Hilary Duff. So at least there's that.
*Of course, 1987 was the year of the Pixies, NWA and Public Enemy among others, but given the Hall's track record, I expect the Fabulous Thunderbirds and Paula Abdul will get in ahead of them.
This year is all about housecleaning, as a number of important, popular acts make the cut after years of waiting. (Artists are first eligible for the Hall 25 years after the release of their debut record.) This round finally sees Black Sabbath (1969), Lynyrd Skynyrd (1973) and the Sex Pistols (1976) enter the Hall, while the Stooges, godfathers of punk, are once again left out. Perhaps the Hall is saving Iggy's band for 2012, when they'll be trying to decide which acts from 1987* deserve to be canonized. Other worthy musicians made to wait include the Patti Smith Group and Grandmaster Flash. (We're about to see the Hall start to wrestle with the place of rap and hip hop in the rock canon--of course it is rock and roll, but many of the Hall voters who have spent recent years sleepily voting in James Taylor and the Eagles may not see it that way.) Gram Parsons didn't even make the list of nominees this time around--after being beaten out by the likes of the Pretenders last year. It's all enormously arbitrary, and not really worth getting too upset about. And at least the Hall has had the good sense to utterly ignore prog rock, aside from Pink Floyd.
The Hall is really--aside from being a revenue maker for its owners--just a parlor game for thinking about who and what should be valued in rock and roll--halfway between the baseball Hall of Fame and the American Music Awards. The Rock Hall doesn't have the reams of statistics that sports generate--there are only record sales, which are useless as an indicator of artistic influence and impact. So it's all conjecture, no different than casual music fans sitting around talking about their favorite groups, except invariably blander. Anyway, in a few months we'll probably get to see Ozzy and his band perform Iron Man backed by Billy Joel, Eddie Vedder, Johnny Rotten and Hilary Duff. So at least there's that.
*Of course, 1987 was the year of the Pixies, NWA and Public Enemy among others, but given the Hall's track record, I expect the Fabulous Thunderbirds and Paula Abdul will get in ahead of them.
