Tuesday, November 18, 2008

This Month's eMusic Downloads (November)

The Gaslight Anthem- The '59 Sound
The Hold Steady- Almost Killed Me
The Hold Steady- Live at Schubas 3/12/04
Tom Waits- The Early Years Part II
The Rocky Horror Picture Show Original Soundtrack
Edgar Allen Floe- The Streetwise LP
Nada Surf- The Weight Is A Gift
Her Majesty- "Rebel Song (Ode to Joe Strummer)"
Mr. Lif- "Welcome To The World"
Jeff Tweedy- "James Alley Blues"

I'm beginning to think that The Hold Steady were grown in a lab with the express purpose of becoming my new favorite band.  If so, that's a mad scientist I want to meet.  Or who will one day kill me.  One or the other.

I downloaded the Her Majesty song pretty much entirely because of the title.  It's okay, but oddly enough sounds almost nothing like a Clash song.  And because I had a couple of extra downloads left.  Same with the Jeff Tweedy song.  

100 Songs: "The Book of Daniel" (MF GRIMM)

"Then we gonna keep it in the truest essence of hip hop- the battle.  We gotta keep it at the battle, right y'all?  Y'all ready for that?"
-Jay-Z, introducing "Takeover" at his Unplugged show with the Roots

There are diss tracks in rock and roll.  John Lennon's "How Do You Sleep" and Paul McCartney's response "Dear Friend", or Skynyrd's playful response to Neil Young's "Southern Man" and "Alabama" in "Sweet Home Alabama" are immediate examples.  There just aren't a lot of them.  Hip hop, on the other hand, is perhaps too well known for lyrical feuds that occasionally spill over into real-life violence.  The infamous East Coast/West Coast rivalry of the 1990s is the obvious example here.  

There's a certain type of social observer- the kind who tries to link MCs to the West African tradition of the griot, mostly, who probably see the hip hop battle track as a continuation of the jazz tradition of "cutting".  Essentially, cutting was an after hours, back room practice of different instrumentalists trying to demonstrate their virtuosity and supremacy with their instrument.  Think of a much cooler version of a competition for first chair in middle school band.  It's hard to imagine that there's any real connection between that and hip hop, I just like taking undeserved shots at overly earnest cultural anthropologists who imagine that every aspect of a culture is connected.  

Really, it's easy to understand why battle tracks and diss tracks have proliferated in hip hop.  In rock and roll, there have been battles of the bands, where various groups that no one will ultimately care about competing on stage for applause (bonus points for shows that rigged up bullshit "applause meters" that looked like supercomputers designed specifically for the purpose of interpreting an audience's decibel level in order to crown the best band of the night), it's not as if the bands took the time to rewrite their lyrics to mock another band at the show.  But in a freestyling competition, insulting the other rapper is an obvious, indeed expected, way to kill a few bars.  Throw in the fact that posturing and braggadocio are an essential element of most hip hop personae and mindsets, and the diss track is a predictable outcome.

Anyway, I'm not here to talk about one of the legendary hip hop rivalries, but one that has been played out before a relatively small audience.  The falling out between MF Grimm and MF Doom, and Grimm's diss track "The Book of Daniel", from his 3 disc epic American Hunger.

The first thing worth mentioning about this song is essential to understanding the song- the use of names on the song.  At no point in the song, is the name "MF Doom" mentioned.  Instead, Grimm and his compatriots from his Monsta Island Czars group call refer to Doom by his old alter ego Zev Love X, and the title refers to his real name, Daniel Dumile.  It's probably worth it here for a quick digression on the use of names in African-American art and tradition.  Even those of us who have never seen Roots (me included) know the mini-series' most iconic moments- when the slave Kunta Kinte is brutally whipped for refusing to accept his slave name of Toby.  This struggle over one of the most basic aspects of identity, and the basic issue of naming can be seen in the use of names in books like Toni Morrison's Song of Solomon, or the nameless protagonist of Ralph Ellison's Invisible Man.  I also believe that it is tied to the common practice of Blues performers and rappers creating new names.  I find it interesting that this practice didn't really show up much in R&B and Soul Music- outside of Tina Turner and Stevie Wonder, I have a hard time thinking of many others who changed their names, and this was during the era of figures like Malcolm X, Muhammad Ali and Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, but of course all three of those examples had converted to Islam before changing their names, although the name changes still represented a political statement about the nature of black identity.  But I digress.  Choosing a rap name is such an integral part of the hip hop scene that when a rapper simply uses their real name, like Kanye West, Will Smith or Obie Trice (who has a real name that already sounded like a stage name) it's almost jarring.  

Anyway, Daniel Dumile has used a lot of different names and personae in his work.  He started out as Zev Love X, in the group KMD in the early 1990s.  The group disbanded following the death of the future MF Doom's brother, Subroc, who was hit by a car in 1993, and a battle with their record label over the release of their second album, Black Bastards.  After these events, Doom more or less disappeared until 1998 or so, when he reemerged as the Marvel Comics inspired, mask-wearing MF Doom.  Since then, he's also released albums under the name of Viktor Vaughn (a play on Dr. Doom's "real name" of Victor Von Doom") and King Geedorah (a Godzilla reference).  In  "The Book of Daniel", Grimm pointedly refuses to call Dumile by his current chosen name of "Doom", denying him his chosen identity.  MIC's Mez, in the second verse further takes away Doom's identity, after mockingly referring to him as "Vicky", a play on Viktor, boasts "Smog made ya mask/Jet Jag [Jet Jaguar is another of Grimm's identities) made your name", and at the end of the song, Grimm pleads "Come home man/ Come home Zev".  Doom is called "Daniel" in the title, "Zev Love X", "Vicky", "Sambo", but never "Doom".  

The song is a brutal diss track, a history of a friendship that has fallen apart and a plea for a reconciliation.  But what brought things to this point?  What did Doom do to provoke this 7 minute assault?  On his Danger Doom album, with DJ Danger Mouse, Doom snuck in a diss on Grimm's MIC crew that was so fleeting I didn't notice it until it was pointed out to me, a quick reference to "Midgets Into Crunk" which became "Monkeys into Crime" on the remix album "Occult Hymn".  Mez references this insult in the second verse, "Midgets into crunk/Monkeys in a cage/Murderers inna cut/Fucking you up on stage".  Grimm seems far more hung up on Doom's litltle wise crack than I would have ever expected.  "I didn't wanna get at you/ You know this is true/ One thing that stopped me/ Was Lord Dihoo/ But now you're being/ Disrespectful to me and the crew/ Now I gotta do, what I gotta do".  (I'm a bit unclear as to the Lord Dihoo reference.  A google search reveals that Doom's ASCAP copyrights are under "Lord Dihoo Music", as well as an interview with Doom that includes a photograph captioned as Doom w/ Lord Dihoo.  So yeah.  Keith might know.)  Near the end of the song, Grimm goes on to ask six times "How could you ever diss M.I.C?".  Apparently, this really got to Grimm.

I'm not actually clear on what led to the initial falling out between Doom and Grimm.  I've heard it had to do with money, but that's all I remember. In the song, Grimm says "I made a mistake, told the press you hold dough/ I see now it's my fault, they didn't need to know/ I apologized to you, I thought we let it go/ B.B King's New York, together did a show/ But look at us now, once again, here we go/Money wasn't worth it, it turned us into foes/ Whenever you had beef, your beef was mine/ I took a life for you, put mine on the line".

But immediately after this apparent request to put their differences aside, Grimm resumes his line of attack, mocking Doom for collaborating with the RZA on the Think Differently Music compilation after complaining to Grimm that he thought RZA had "bit Tick, Tick", a song by Doom and Grimm from the Operation Doomsday album.  He goes on to slam Doom for working with Ghostface Killah on the still forthcoming album Swift & Changeable, having once "said Ghost was whack/You didn't like his style".  Grimm labels Doom as "Two-faced and three-headed", a reference to Doom's King Geedora persona, a three headed space monster.  (Oh, the sentences I never expected to write).  Actually, Grimm seems slightly obsessed with other rappers that Doom has worked with in recent years.  Besides Ghostface and RZA, Grimm raps, "Mos Def, De La Soul/Roots can't revive you/ When the bullets start flying/ Who's gonna hide you?/ Rhymesayers, Stones Throw/ Nature Sounds signed you/ Make peace with you?/ Zev I tried to".  It almost seems like Grimm is jealous, either of Doom's success (at this point, Doom is inarguably a bigger star in the underground rap world than Grimm) or the fact that these people are working with his former friend and he's not.  

Monday, November 10, 2008

100 Songs: "She Bangs The Drum" (The Stone Roses)

I have a real love/hate relationship with lists.  Especially "Best" lists.  For most of my life, I've been obsessed with such lists (he says in the midst of a post from what is a list itself), both creating them and studying them.  In school, I would almost never take notes in class.  Instead, I would create page after page of lists.  If I wasn't making up one, I was copying an existing one from memory (there was a time when I could do the AFI's top 100 list from memory.  All of the Oscar winners for Best Picture too.  I don't think I still can, but I can probably get more than 75 percent of each list still.)  But over the past few years, I've almost made myself stop looking at Top 100 lists, because invariably there will be a pick or two that will infuriate me, or a glaring omission that I will want to rant about to any poor bastard within earshot.  This strikes me as unhealthy.  But there's no denying I've learned a lot from lists.  The first AFI "100 Greatest Movies" list came out right when I was getting serious about film history, and I tracked down almost all of the movies on the list.  (I think I've been stuck at 93 or 94 of the 100 movies for years now, and I don't really see myself ever finishing it.  I just can't imagine watching The Jazz Singer or Ben-Hur all the way through).  In my systematic devouring of every book about rock music in the N.C. State library, I came across a 1980s book that polled a bunch of top rock critics on the best albums of all time.  While a few of the entries are hopelessly dated (Huey Lewis and the News' Sports album immediately comes to mind) it pointed me towards Richard and Linda Thompson and Tom Waits' Swordfishtrombones and Graham Parker's Squeezing Out Sparks  and  Love's Forever Changes.  And in 2004, a list from a British music magazine (let's say Mojo, but I'm not one hundred percent on that, and it's not important enough to try and figure out through googling) of the greatest British rock albums of all time introduced me to The Stone Roses.  They were the only act in the top ten that I had never heard of, and seeing them placed alongside of Radiohead and The Beatles convinced me that I needed to hear this band.  (Granted, it's never been all that hard to convince me to spend money on a CD that I had never heard of.  It's just how I am.)  

So, I went to Schoolkids Records to buy the band's self-titled album, that was apparently in the same league as Revolver and OK Computer.  And they didn't have it.  But they did have a best-of compilation, so I picked that up.  I would later learn that buying a Stone Roses compilation is pretty similar to buying their first album- of the 15 songs on the Stone Roses' first album, 8 are included on The Very Best of the Stone Roses.  It's not wildly dissimilar to buying a Fugees' compilation when a store doesn't have a copy of The Score, but I didn't know that at the time.  When I listened to the cd the first time, I was struck by two things.  1- This is fucking brilliant.  2- These guys are obviously well thought-of in their home country, so how is it that I've never heard of them?  I mean, it's not like British rock has ever had a very hard time getting a foothold in the US, with only a handful of exceptions.  I'm still not entirely clear on that.  I think it has something to do with the band being such a product of the Madchester scene, and the way the band pretty much imploded after the first album, and something to do with the fact that their stuff doesn't really fit in with the popular indy rock of the late 1980s- it's not like lo-fi or Sonic Youth or the nascent grunge sound, and they weren't really shoe-gazey, and when Britpop made it to the US, the Stone Roses don't really sound like that either even if they were one of the big influences on it, so that might have hurt them.   But that's mostly just semi-educated guesswork on my part.  They might have just had a shitty American distributor.  But I feel like my interpretation is at least more romantic, even if I might not have the actual facts on my side.

I'm glad I found the Roses when I did.  I don't think I saw another reference to the band until I watched Shaun of the Dead, in the great scene where Shaun and Ed argue about which records they should use in their attempt to decapitate the undead in their backyard.  (After Shaun allowed Ed to hurl a Dire Straits LP, he simply says "No" when Ed asks if he can throw the first Stone Roses album.  When Ed asks if he can use the band's second album, The Second Coming, Shaun can only offer up "I like it".  God I love that movie.)

"She Bangs The Drums" is one of those song that's actually weirder than it sounds, something I always respect in a song.  Musically, it's fairly typical of the band's sound.  It's got an essential lightness without being at all delicate or inconsequential, with enough of the rhythm present to make it danceable (their audiences in Manchester were full of people who understood that just because they were wearing ridiculous clothes and on ecstasy that didn't mean they had to subject themselves to techno, which is very commendable of them).  It's a brilliant, sunny sound, but without any of the Byrds' jingle-jangle that one might associate with this kind of description.  The Stone Roses' music often reminds me of The Beatles, despite not really sounding like the Beatles.  Rather, it's that both bands had a sound that was almost unbearably perfect- you can't really imagine the song being played by this group of people in any other way, that there is nothing to be learned from outtakes.  The song sounds like a happy love song.

And the lyrics, especially if you aren't really paying close attention to them, sound like love song lyrics.  The chorus' "Have you seen her/Have you heard/ The way she plays there are no words/ To describe the way I feel/ How could it ever come to pass/ She'll be the first/ She'll be the last/ To describe the way I feel".  But then in the verses, there are a few lines that seem remarkably out of place for a love song.  "Kiss me where the sun don't shine/ The past was yours but the future is mine/ You're all out of time" is not a romantic sentiment.  In Alex Green's book about the album for the 33 1/3 series (I have no idea where these little pieces I'm writing would be without those books), he suggests that the lines might be a reference to Thatcher.  

It's certainly odd to stick a political section into a song that, if it isn't a love song, it certainly is a song about feeling almost unbridled joy.  But it isn't out of character for the band to get political in oblique ways and at odd moments.  The song "Bye Bye Badman" is actually about the 1968 Paris student riots- in fact, the line about "citrus-sucking sunshine" is an incredibly obscure reference to the student protesters' trick of sucking on citrus in order to counter the effects of tear gas.  The album's odd, abstract cover actually has two references to the riots- the orange slices on the cover, which might simply be taken as examples of the band being arty and weird (or possibly just liking oranges) are a visual reference to the line from "By Bye Badman", and the three stripes of red, white and blue paint are a fairly obvious (at least in retrospect) imitation of the French flag.  

At the time, I'm not sure if I was clever enough to wonder if the song might be about Mo Tucker, from the Velvet Underground (or at least to speculate if the lyrics were foretelling the coming of Meg White).  Perhaps I was clever enough to understand that such an interpretation would just be silly  (unless of course it's true, which, I suppose, is also possible).  Without too much study, the song is a blissful ode (god there's got to be a better way to say that) to love as music, or just love and music.  Looked at deeper, it's still that, just weirder, and possibly love as music as politics.  Which, of course, describes a great percentage of songs that are worth a damn, in one way or another.  In short, AMERICA JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE TWENTY YEARS TOO LATE IS NO EXCUSE FOR NOT DISCOVERING THIS BAND.  IF I DON'T HEAR A STONE ROSES SONG IN A COMMERCIAL FOR A SHITTY MUSIC SERVICE WITHIN THE NEXT NINE MONTHS I'LL BE VERY DISAPPOINTED.  Wait... is that what I mean?


Tuesday, November 4, 2008

An Election Song

Oh the time will come up
When the wind will stop
And the breeze will cease to be breathin'.
Like the stillness in the wind
'Fore the hurricane begins,
The hour when the ship comes in.

Oh the seas will split
And the ship will hit
And the sands on the shoreline will be shaking.
Then the tide will sound
And the wind will pound
And the morning will be breaking.

Oh the fishes will laugh
As they swim out of the path
And the seagulls they'll be smiling.
And the rocks on the sand
Will proudly stand,
The hour that the ship comes in.

And the words that are used
For to get the ship confused
Will not be understood as they're spoken.
For the chains of the sea
Will have busted in the night
And will be buried at the bottom of the ocean.

A song will lift
As the mainsail shifts
And the boat drifts on to the shoreline.
And the sun will respect 
Every face on the deck,
The hour that the ship comes in.

Then the sands will roll
Out a carpet of gold
For your weary toes to be a-touchin'.
And the ship's wise men
Will remind you once again
That the whole wide world is watchin'.

Oh the foes will rise
With the sleep still in their eyes
And they'll jerk from their beds and think they're dreamin'.
But they'll pinch themselves and squeal
And know that it's for real,
The hour that the ship comes in.

Then they'll raise their hands,
Sayin' we'll meet all your demands,
But we'll shout from the bow your days are numbered.
And like Pharaoh's tribe,
They'll be drownded in the tide,
And like Goliath, they'll be conquered.

-Bob Dylan, 1963, "When the Ship Comes In"