I can remember thinking in high school that at some point, much later in life, I'd look back at the music I was listening to at the time and reminisce about the "good old days" of music and how the "music" them there kids was listening to was just plain garbage. I'm thinking that the "much later in life" thing may have crept up on me sooner than I thought it would.
Slacker Radio is web music service like Pandora, and in any tangible sense that won't take paragraphs of tech blah-blah to explain, they are pretty much identical, although I generally prefer Slacker's iPhone app over Pandora's. Anyway, Slacker creates these special stations from time to time to celebrate whatever is going on in music at the time, like they had a VMA station a couple weeks back. Right now their featured station is "Grunge: 20 Years Later."
For those reading from my generation, I'll let that sink in for a moment. It's been 20 years since Nevermind and 10 came out, 20 years since the most significant cultural shift in the music industry of the 90's hit the scenes, 20 years since flannel shirts were not solely owned by lesbians and boys with long, ragged hair were the cool thing.
In other words, we are now old enough to say "remembered when" and for the music we grew up on to be considered "old school." I about cried when that dawned on me.
I still love grunge music though. I still listen to old STP and Live and Nirvana and Alice in Chains and Foo Fighters and Smashing Pumpkins. And I may as well be waving my cane at kids screaming "get off my lawn!" while I listen.
I'm not too fond of this feeling, but I suppose it's just one of those feelings I'll have to learn to deal with. I'm only more likely to have these type of moments as life goes on. And hell, if Slacker having a station dedicated to Grunge helps a few young pups out there really understand why Smashing Pumpkins Siamese Dream was such a big f-in deal of an album, it can't be that bad.
In the meantime though, I need to go sit on my porch and rock in my wooden chair while I whistle Smells Like Teen Spirit through my dentures...
Showing posts with label Music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Music. Show all posts
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Friday, September 9, 2011
It's Like Crack
Buying musical equipment should come with a warning label. Perhaps something like what they put on cigarette packs in some places, but instead of cancerous lungs it should be empty wallets and weeping bank accounts. This shit is dangerous!
I've had a hankering to start writing and recording music again. I've barely touched my guitar in a few years, but I've been feeling really inspired lately and, perhaps more importantly, I've been missing the outlet that my music offered me. With amateur home recording becoming easier and offering better quality than in years past, I've also had the urge to start recording my music for posterity.
Not having much luck in the past getting even decent sounding tracks on to the hard drive, I decided I should probably defer to people that might know a little more about recording than I do. So off to Guitar Center we went.
The idea was really to get an idea of what basic equipment was needed to start recording and price it all out. After about an hour of questioning a very nice, very hipster kid about various gear and techniques and tools, we walked away with approximately $300 price tag in mind. Just to get started.
And I wanted to buy it all, right then and there.
I remember reading about The Smashing Pumpkins' recording process while making Melancholy and the Infinite Sadness. They used over 300 different guitars, at least as many effects pedals, and a sizable amount of different microphones just to record that one album. In essence, Billy Corgan is a perfectionist. I'm not saying I'm near that bad, but I am saying I understand where he's coming from…
So we didn't buy anything. We didn't because it was $300 we weren't planning on spending. We didn’t because I'm not quite ready to start recording stuff just yet. Most importantly, we didn't because we knew that once I started buying stuff, I wouldn't want to stop. I'd get the first batch of gear, but then I'd just need another cable. Oh, then there's a new stand that might work well. And I can't forget about that other thingamajig that will surely make this one song just perfect… and on, and on…
But at least I know what to plan for now. I know what the entry level will be and I can spend some time learning a bit more about the equipment and the whats and hows of it all. Now I have to try and invoke some semblance of will power and hold off on rushing out to buy it all!
I've had a hankering to start writing and recording music again. I've barely touched my guitar in a few years, but I've been feeling really inspired lately and, perhaps more importantly, I've been missing the outlet that my music offered me. With amateur home recording becoming easier and offering better quality than in years past, I've also had the urge to start recording my music for posterity.
Not having much luck in the past getting even decent sounding tracks on to the hard drive, I decided I should probably defer to people that might know a little more about recording than I do. So off to Guitar Center we went.
The idea was really to get an idea of what basic equipment was needed to start recording and price it all out. After about an hour of questioning a very nice, very hipster kid about various gear and techniques and tools, we walked away with approximately $300 price tag in mind. Just to get started.
And I wanted to buy it all, right then and there.
I remember reading about The Smashing Pumpkins' recording process while making Melancholy and the Infinite Sadness. They used over 300 different guitars, at least as many effects pedals, and a sizable amount of different microphones just to record that one album. In essence, Billy Corgan is a perfectionist. I'm not saying I'm near that bad, but I am saying I understand where he's coming from…
So we didn't buy anything. We didn't because it was $300 we weren't planning on spending. We didn’t because I'm not quite ready to start recording stuff just yet. Most importantly, we didn't because we knew that once I started buying stuff, I wouldn't want to stop. I'd get the first batch of gear, but then I'd just need another cable. Oh, then there's a new stand that might work well. And I can't forget about that other thingamajig that will surely make this one song just perfect… and on, and on…
But at least I know what to plan for now. I know what the entry level will be and I can spend some time learning a bit more about the equipment and the whats and hows of it all. Now I have to try and invoke some semblance of will power and hold off on rushing out to buy it all!
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
All I Ever Wanted Was A Little Airborne Toxicity
I don't often obsess over a song. I'm more of an album kind of guy. Albums can be great or miserable, and so can individual songs on those albums, but usually the strength or weakness of a single track just weighs in to my overall estimation of an album.
Of course, for every rule there is an exception. A few weeks ago I went on a new music binge. I opened Slacker Radio on my iPhone, fired up their Alternative channel and listened until I found five songs I really liked, then went and grabbed the albums those songs were on, hoping that the albums would be good enough to break me out of my music funk.
One of the albums I downloaded was All At Once from Airborne Toxic Event. This is one of those times that I realize I'm behind on finding this artist, but honestly I just couldn't care. The album is good and I'm just glad to have found it! I love the instrumentation the artists use, the range of sounds they are able to command, and, probably most inspiring to me, their lyrics.
But one songs on the album, All I Ever Wanted, has really stuck out to me. I'm not even sure if the track has been or will be released as a single, but it certainly needs to be! Take a listen:
I can't define what I appreciate most from the song, the lyrics or the arrangement, but I don't think it matters because it's purely amazing. The lyrics take you on a journey of fear and hope and realization and self-doubt and love… you know, all the things us neurotics think about pretty much daily! And the strings came through with such simplicity and the intensity of their delivery is perfect.
It's a song that I know I can relate to, and one that I think so many others can too. I've read the explanations across the interwebs of what people think the song means, and from a literal stand point I'm sure the abandonment idea makes sense, but the beauty of a song like this (as with any good art) is that there is still room for interpretation from the viewer/listener.
When I hear these lyrics, I don't hear a man saying that the relationship is over. I hear a man that knows that shit just got real, as the kids say. He knows the honeymoon-period is over. It's a flash-point perspective on the moment that it dawned on him that he's with someone and that he's not sure he can be everything to them like he always wanted to be. And that leads to his fear that maybe this won't work out, that maybe the person he's with isn't exactly who he thought either and maybe that'll end badly. But in the end, I feel like he comes back and says that he's in love anyway, despite the fears and the insecurities and the short-comings. He's going to defy his self-doubt because he knows that nobody is perfect.
I've been listening to this song a lot. I mean, like on repeat. I've been learning to play a version of it so that I can play it in the short windows of time that I'm not listening to it. I've been reading (*shudder*) fan-site message boards to get other opinions on the song. I'm quite obsessed. And I think you should be too.
Of course, for every rule there is an exception. A few weeks ago I went on a new music binge. I opened Slacker Radio on my iPhone, fired up their Alternative channel and listened until I found five songs I really liked, then went and grabbed the albums those songs were on, hoping that the albums would be good enough to break me out of my music funk.
One of the albums I downloaded was All At Once from Airborne Toxic Event. This is one of those times that I realize I'm behind on finding this artist, but honestly I just couldn't care. The album is good and I'm just glad to have found it! I love the instrumentation the artists use, the range of sounds they are able to command, and, probably most inspiring to me, their lyrics.
But one songs on the album, All I Ever Wanted, has really stuck out to me. I'm not even sure if the track has been or will be released as a single, but it certainly needs to be! Take a listen:
I can't define what I appreciate most from the song, the lyrics or the arrangement, but I don't think it matters because it's purely amazing. The lyrics take you on a journey of fear and hope and realization and self-doubt and love… you know, all the things us neurotics think about pretty much daily! And the strings came through with such simplicity and the intensity of their delivery is perfect.
It's a song that I know I can relate to, and one that I think so many others can too. I've read the explanations across the interwebs of what people think the song means, and from a literal stand point I'm sure the abandonment idea makes sense, but the beauty of a song like this (as with any good art) is that there is still room for interpretation from the viewer/listener.
When I hear these lyrics, I don't hear a man saying that the relationship is over. I hear a man that knows that shit just got real, as the kids say. He knows the honeymoon-period is over. It's a flash-point perspective on the moment that it dawned on him that he's with someone and that he's not sure he can be everything to them like he always wanted to be. And that leads to his fear that maybe this won't work out, that maybe the person he's with isn't exactly who he thought either and maybe that'll end badly. But in the end, I feel like he comes back and says that he's in love anyway, despite the fears and the insecurities and the short-comings. He's going to defy his self-doubt because he knows that nobody is perfect.
I've been listening to this song a lot. I mean, like on repeat. I've been learning to play a version of it so that I can play it in the short windows of time that I'm not listening to it. I've been reading (*shudder*) fan-site message boards to get other opinions on the song. I'm quite obsessed. And I think you should be too.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Foo Fighters: Reminding Me That I'm Old Enough To Remember The Entire Career Of A 20-Year Old Band. And A Great New Album.
On my (not so) old blog, I mused about the death of Rock and Roll. It seems more and more obvious every day that Rock is now basically a niche music scene. And it is really scary that the only rockers putting out great music lately are well over 55 years old. Not that being AARP-eligible is a bad thing, but we do kind of need some young blood in the mix.
Of course, just as I post about the eminent demise of my favorite musical genre, the Foo Fighters decide to release an album just to spite me and my online opinions.
The Fighters of all things Foo have been a persistent reminder to me over the years of what exactly Rock is suppose to be. And their new release Wasting Light is no exception. In fact, it could be the finest rock record I've listened to in many, many years.
I won't go too "review mode" here, but I will say that the only track that I didn't think was a 9/10 or 10/10 was the remix of Rope on the iTunes deluxe version of the album, but it's not really a core track so it doesn't count.
Even if you were disappointed (and by disappointed, I mean they were just Friggin' Awesome! instead of OMGBestAlbumEvar!!1!!) by the last album or two from The Foo, you should really check out Wasting Light. Don’t just take my word for it though: Entertainment Weekly, Spin and plenty others loved it as well.
The irony of me saying that Rock isn't completely dead based on an album written by late 30-something or 40-something's isn't lost on me. We still need some young, angry, drunken and horny 20-year olds thrashing their guitars and hotel rooms to really reinvigorate the genre. But at least The Foo Fighters haven't started inquiring about retirement homes and live-in nurses yet, and that's a step in the right direction.
Of course, just as I post about the eminent demise of my favorite musical genre, the Foo Fighters decide to release an album just to spite me and my online opinions.
The Fighters of all things Foo have been a persistent reminder to me over the years of what exactly Rock is suppose to be. And their new release Wasting Light is no exception. In fact, it could be the finest rock record I've listened to in many, many years.
I won't go too "review mode" here, but I will say that the only track that I didn't think was a 9/10 or 10/10 was the remix of Rope on the iTunes deluxe version of the album, but it's not really a core track so it doesn't count.
Even if you were disappointed (and by disappointed, I mean they were just Friggin' Awesome! instead of OMGBestAlbumEvar!!1!!) by the last album or two from The Foo, you should really check out Wasting Light. Don’t just take my word for it though: Entertainment Weekly, Spin and plenty others loved it as well.
The irony of me saying that Rock isn't completely dead based on an album written by late 30-something or 40-something's isn't lost on me. We still need some young, angry, drunken and horny 20-year olds thrashing their guitars and hotel rooms to really reinvigorate the genre. But at least The Foo Fighters haven't started inquiring about retirement homes and live-in nurses yet, and that's a step in the right direction.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
The Dave Matthews Music Festival I Won't Be Attending
I have some great memories of Dave Matthews Band. My friend Mark and I went to see them in Cincinnati and I got a great contact buzz (you had to try really hard to not be in a constant cloud there). In high school, the drum line and I would spend hours discussing the technical genius of DMB's drummer Carter Beauford. A few hours were spent with my old roommate Shae discussing the "risky" move DMB took on Everyday when they took on the daunting and cutting edge sounds of electric guitars. I think I can easily say that DMB was a pretty big thing in my young life.
So when Dave Matthews announced a new touring music festival with a stop here in Chicago, I was pretty excited! Three days of folksy singer/songwriters strumming and crooning, and it's not Lilith Fair? I'm in! I can't wait to hop on the red line to the loop and skip over to Millennium Park for the festivities!
Wait… what do you mean?
Except it's not in Millennium Park. No, Dave and crew thought it would be more fun to host their festival in the super safe and accessible 87th and lakefront part of town. Which is just a short hour and a half trip from my house. And requires riding the Metra. And requires a kevlar jacket with +2 self defense skills and immunity to fear effects.
But it's Dave! And Ray LaMontagne! And David Grey! And O.A.R.! And Ben Folds! And an ungodly amount of weed and booze!
Short Aside
A few years ago, I attended a Live concert at the Riviera in Uptown Chicago. Live is one of my absolute favorite bands and I never had the opportunity to see them at their height of popularity in the 90's. So when I heard they were on tour I jumped at the chance to go.
It's an odd feeling when you see the rock stars of your youth appearing more like dinosaurs in a museum complete with tweed-jacketed observers and completely uninterested children. On one hand, I enjoyed the music and loved seeing them perform on stage. On the other, it was all I could do to not start crying uncontrollably at the notion that not only were my favorite rockers becoming irrelevant, I was becoming one of those pathetic old dudes that still listen to Led Zeppelin albums and harp on about "real music."
Back to the point at hand
I would love to see Ray LaMontagne live and I'll probably make my way to one of shows sometime soon. But it'd be him headlining. Not followed up by Kid Cudi (for realsies?) or Ben Folds, also known as the guy that used to be a really cool musician but has since traded that in for a judge's spot on a reality singing competition featuring Nick Lachey's dimples and the sage advise of a certain performer who gladly wore the moniker of Head Pussycat up until recently.
And I love Dave Matthews Band. But more importantly, I love the memories I have associated with Dave Matthews Band. And while I'm sure they are still excellent performers, I think 3 whole nights of What Would You Say being sung-along to by women who are constantly checking in with the baby sitter and men who are already contemplating the benefits of Viagra might just ruin it all for me. I don't want the good memories to be mixed with the bitter ones.
So thanks, but no thanks DMB. Have fun down there on the South Side, and try not to unload your tour bus waste onto a boat full of people on your way out of town.
So when Dave Matthews announced a new touring music festival with a stop here in Chicago, I was pretty excited! Three days of folksy singer/songwriters strumming and crooning, and it's not Lilith Fair? I'm in! I can't wait to hop on the red line to the loop and skip over to Millennium Park for the festivities!
Wait… what do you mean?
Except it's not in Millennium Park. No, Dave and crew thought it would be more fun to host their festival in the super safe and accessible 87th and lakefront part of town. Which is just a short hour and a half trip from my house. And requires riding the Metra. And requires a kevlar jacket with +2 self defense skills and immunity to fear effects.
But it's Dave! And Ray LaMontagne! And David Grey! And O.A.R.! And Ben Folds! And an ungodly amount of weed and booze!
Short Aside
A few years ago, I attended a Live concert at the Riviera in Uptown Chicago. Live is one of my absolute favorite bands and I never had the opportunity to see them at their height of popularity in the 90's. So when I heard they were on tour I jumped at the chance to go.
It's an odd feeling when you see the rock stars of your youth appearing more like dinosaurs in a museum complete with tweed-jacketed observers and completely uninterested children. On one hand, I enjoyed the music and loved seeing them perform on stage. On the other, it was all I could do to not start crying uncontrollably at the notion that not only were my favorite rockers becoming irrelevant, I was becoming one of those pathetic old dudes that still listen to Led Zeppelin albums and harp on about "real music."
Back to the point at hand
I would love to see Ray LaMontagne live and I'll probably make my way to one of shows sometime soon. But it'd be him headlining. Not followed up by Kid Cudi (for realsies?) or Ben Folds, also known as the guy that used to be a really cool musician but has since traded that in for a judge's spot on a reality singing competition featuring Nick Lachey's dimples and the sage advise of a certain performer who gladly wore the moniker of Head Pussycat up until recently.
And I love Dave Matthews Band. But more importantly, I love the memories I have associated with Dave Matthews Band. And while I'm sure they are still excellent performers, I think 3 whole nights of What Would You Say being sung-along to by women who are constantly checking in with the baby sitter and men who are already contemplating the benefits of Viagra might just ruin it all for me. I don't want the good memories to be mixed with the bitter ones.
So thanks, but no thanks DMB. Have fun down there on the South Side, and try not to unload your tour bus waste onto a boat full of people on your way out of town.
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