So far the 2000s have been pretty sucky. (We also need to face up to the subsidiary fact that nobody has come up with a name for this decade yet. My favorite suggestion is “the naughts”, but this doesn’t seem to have caught on.) The political and military carnage of post-9/11 existence is the most obvious symptom of our collective malaise, but the decade hasn’t been great shakes in musical terms either. I expect this to perk up in 2009 (see my forthcoming post on this). In the meantime, even in a musical night there are always dots of light. Here are 20 reasons why the 2000s might not totally suck:
Begin de Cycle
1. All That You Can’t Leave Behind (U2, 2000)
As the French will tell you, you can’t properly begin a new cycle until you have put the fin to the old one. This album finds U2 in a turn of mood and music that perfectly captures the pivot point between the old and the new. We’re all stuck in a moment we can’t get out of, and this album just might encourage us to get ourselves together.
Calling out to idiot America
2. One Beat (Sleater Kinney, 2002)
3. American Idiot (Green Day, 2004)
The problem with politically themed music (or art of any kind) is that it can get so caught up in its ideology that it forgets its artistry. Sleater Kinney never fall into this trap on One Beat, producing a record that rocks without pause and cries out in the wilderness to remind us, just a few months after 9/11 and well before the press or the political opposition came to life again, that dissent is not treason. If the ladies from Olympia produced a political-musical John the Baptist, it cleared the way for the Jesus that is American Idiot, a masterwork that is political without getting didactic, punk without getting repetitive and a rock opera that actually works as a coherent story. Let’s repeat that- Green Day tried to make a political punk rock opera and pulled it off. Wow.
Muses (Throwing and otherwise)
4. Sunny Border Blue (Kristin Hersh, 2001)
5. Beautysleep (Tanya Donelly, 2002)
6. Title TK (the Breeders, 2002)
As someone on the leeward side of thirty, I find it heartwarming that thirtysomething musical veterans made three of the best albums of the decade so far. Half-sisters Tanya Donelly and Kristin Hersh helped form the rock underground of the Eighties (see, that decade has a name, and it doesn’t even deserve one!) and inspired the alternative rock outburst of the Nineties by co-founding the Throwing Muses. Kim Deal meanwhile did the same, in even more influential fashion, with the Pixies in the Eighties and the Breeders in the Nineties. More than fifteen years after starting out all three of them are still going strong, as evidenced by this marvelous trio of emotionally poignant, musically searing, lyrically sophisticated albums.
There’s still life in the old beast!
7. Elephant (the White Stripes, 2003)
8. Chain Gang of Love (the Raveonettes, 2003)
9. the Konks (the Konks, 2005)
10. Carnavas (Silversun Pickups 2006)
If the previous three deserve praise for keeping moving past the age of thirty, how about a round of applause for Rock and Roll itself for still being capable of making dangerous noise past the age of fifty? During every musical trough some opining occurs that maybe, this time, Rock is dead. Even a quick listen to these four records shows that that’s a bunch of bullshit. The White Stripes and the Raveonettes get there through roots revivalism, the Silversun Pickups surf a wave of feedback and distortion, and the Konks, well, there are no words to properly describe what the Konks do, but it’s best to hide the children while they’re doing it.
Genre lives!
11. Dying in Stereo (Northern State, 2002)
12. Straight to Hell (Hank Williams III, 2006)
13. Losin’ It (Vancougar, 2007)
Three white girls from Long Island putting out a totally fresh feminist hip hop album? The grandson of the great Hank Williams producing honky-tonk music with a punk rock attitude? An all-female pop-punk quartet from Vancouver making a record in four days that is better than anything else you heard last year? These three albums remind you that, in loving and inventive hands, surprising things can still happen in even the most formulaic of musical genres.
Promising new voices
14. Chutes Too Narrow (the Shins, 2003)
15. So Jealous (Tegan and Sara, 2004)
16. Martha Wainwright (Martha Wainwright, 2005)
Each of these albums represents a truly unique voice, in both the sonic and the lyrical sense, coming in to its own. Without sounding like each other, all three abound with lyrical sophistication, clever turns of phrase, a surprising emotional vulnerability and an unnerving ability to slip in the knife and twist it just when you thought you were in the middle of a safe pop melody. I hope that long and interesting careers lay ahead of them.
There must be some kind of way out of here
17. 18 (Moby, 2002)
18. Reveille (Deerhoof, 2002)
19. You’re a Woman, I’m a Machine (Death From Above 1979, 2004)
20. College Dropout (Kanye West, 2005)
Despite signs of life, the 2000s as a whole has been stuck in a musical rut. Sooner or later something will come along that will get us out of it. (In 2009? Ibid.) Could it be in the form of electronica and rock meeting, a la Moby? Or through Deerhoof playing the exploded pieces of a power-pop song in asynchronous tightness? With heavy metal as dance music as brought to us by Death From Above 1979? By Kanye West shaking hip hop out of its stagnant gangster subroutine through multi-genre sampling and rhymes that are actually about something? Whether or not these four albums contain glimmers of what the future might sound like, they at least show that the spirit of searching and innovation remains alive.
Mighty is hosting ROFLthing tomorrow night (August 29th) featuring Andy Baio talking about Star Wars Kids, LOLcats micro-humor presented by Ben Huh, Eric conveying an emotion, Evil Berts aplenty, and most importantly, an open bar!
What would be your one parting wish before you die?
Nicole Kenny and KS Rives are answering that by taking Polaroids of people and documenting the results. Add onto that the fact that Polaroid is a dying medium in it’s own right, and you got yourself a good thesis for a book.
It’s always great to see someone get it. You know, a new product that actully seems like they got it right, or close. We felt that way when we saw the iphone, (whether or not you like it) you had to say wow finally I don’t won’t need all these stupid gadgets and it looks cool too? Now enter the Holeder Earphones.
The phones were designed by Yoonsang Kim and are a great example of people making things that are both functional and useful. We have no idea when they’ll hit the market but we can’t wait. The design is said to fit well in the ear (shown below), sound great, and prevent bacteria growth because of it’s shape, not that I’ve been to worried about my ear jammies lately.
I was having a talk with kc! about buying independent, feeling independent, and how independent a person is or isn’t. I offer this for all to consider.
That fact that you buy a burger at Mcdonalds or a local burger hut isn’t what makes you independent or not. It’s asking yourself if you bought that burger based on lack of choice, a want of buying the best product, or because you want to support a chain or a local restaurant (insert a multitude of other reasons here). When you have answered these questions and choose to spend your dollar against your convictions, you choose to be more or less independent because you choose to be more or less yourself by choosing.
Fooling yourself by justifying a choice against your own convictions doesn’t assure your independent status. I must say here that because you choose to go against your beliefs of supporting a huge chain like Starbucks or Wal-Mart when you feel the need, isn’t going to bring the indies burning golden arches on your lawn, it’s not that black and white. We are the sum of ALL our choices and not just the bad ones.
I have yet to find a local independent who taste good, uses the same or better quality ingrediants, and is as price concious as Subway. I eat their often, does this make me less independent? I think not. I would argue that the fact I have actually thought about why I shop there is what defines me as being independent.
Don’t be bullied into always buying from Jack in the Box because it’s everywhere and there’s a lack of good choices and don’t shy away from buying at Taco Bell if that is what you’ve decided is best for you.
Be independent and know that when you look at yourself in the mirror you’ve made a choice, not been hoodwinked into thinking you had no other option.
The difference is vast, the choices are always up to you.
LEGENDmag was out at The Adorable Disaster, and we hope you were there too! Aside from the artwork, we were most impressed by the curation style: hanging all artists in “viewing stations” around the room with a variety of illustration styles and media types represented throughout.
If you haven’t had a chance to check it out, the exhibit is up until the end of the month!
207 Powell St. #400, San Francisco, CA
You know how Dante, the hapless mini-mart clerk from “Clerks”, as the disaster of his day continues to unfold, keeps repeating the line, “But I’m not even supposed to be here today!”? To which his video-store clerk friend Randall eventually replies, “Stop saying that. You sound like an asshole.” That’s pretty much how I felt last weekend at the Outside Lands Festival. Or I should say trying to get to the Outside Lands Festival.
The whole transport flow of this city is not set up to contemplate the idea that a large number of people would want to go to the Outer Sunset at once. This is intuitively obvious by the horrified tone with which most city residents say “out there” when discussing the neighborhood but I learned it experientially trying to get there from the Marina. I think it was when the first unnaturally stuffed full 28 blew past me that the initial, “But I don’t even like Radiohead” escaped my lips.
I realize some of you are still reeling from that statement. Look, Radiohead isn’t bad, in fact they’re great, as we all know. But it’s a very subdued monotone kind of great that never fully kicks out the jams in the way that I yearn for. Let’s just call it different cups of tea. I was plenty excited about the Black Keys and the Cold War Kids and several other acts further down the bill, and about seeing my friend Caille, with whom I’d made these plans ages ago, so I was determined to get there.
Several more unusable 28s made me realize that might be no mean feat. I headed out to Chesnut Street, where surely I could hail a cab, right? Wrong. As even the usually taxi-rich corners of Chesnut, Lombard and Union with Fillmore proved to be completely depopulated I began to understand, but remained convinced that redirecting to Van Ness would work.
The shortage of taxis prevailed there as well. This point was particularly driven home by roving gangs of hip young concert bound kids in bright colors trying in vain to hail one themselves or making calls and cursing, “three hours!” Sweating and consternated, I trudged the entire length of Van Ness to the Muni station on Market Street muttering, “But I don’t even like Radiohead!” under my breath.
I finally caught the N Judah, the one line in the city that goes right there without requiring multiple switches and transfers. Had to reverse flow, of course, by going Eastbound to Embarcadero to get to an empty train going Westbound, rather than trying to board one of the already packed trains at Civic Center Station. This train was soon uberpacked itself, and moved slowly down the line as other trains were backed up in the tunnels.
Until it cleared the tunnel at last into the Inner Sunset and stopped moving at all. It seemed that something highly unfortunate had transpired between 4th and 7th Avenues, and three trains in a row were stopped and not going anywhere. Glancing anxiously at my watch, I joined the hordes debarking and hoofed my way roughly 30 blocks to the concert. To which I arrived just in time for the final set of the day, Radiohead. And I don’t even like Radiohead!
To be fair, they put on an excellent two-hour show. Despite the difficulty of seeing the stage through the standing masses arrayed across the perfectly flat polo field I was drawn in by the hypnotic power of Thom Yorke’s voice and the band’s surging wall of electronic noise. Radiohead might be growing on me.
The notion of staging more open-air festivals in San Francisco is also growing on me. Some obvious transport issues need to be worked out, the vendors who were brought in to set up the grounds and ended up making it into a kind of ill-signed maze of cattle-chutes should be replaced. About half the $85 single-day ticket price of this one would make it a lot more accessible (although the crowd was packed out at 60,000, so maybe not). More big festivals though, particularly ones featuring varied and unusual acts, would really suit our music-happy city. September’s Noisepop festival on Treasure Island should be worth checking out.
Oh, by the way, I’m new here at Legend, so let me introduce myself: Hi, my name is Chris. I’m a fan of cats, Beat writers, people with geeky glasses, rock music, Star Trek and foggy climates. I’m not usually this grumpy. And I look forward to writing for you more!
Well, it was bound to happen I suppose. After countless dates via the interweb, I’ve finally hit a new low. Now, to be fair to the guy I went out with, I’ve been on dates with worse guys. In fact, I’ve been in relationships with much worse guys…there was the guy with brain damage and there was also the con-artist cheater, but I digress. The point being, my track record for picking the “right” guy deserves some scrutiny. This date, however, reached a new low in terms of activity, chemistry (or lack thereof) and disappointment. I racked my brian last night trying to think of a worse date and while there was one (it involved a fat man with a skullet, a lazy eye and birkenstocks with white socks…), it somehow wasn’t nearly as disappointing.
Ben (as he will be known) and I met on a dating website which I recently discovered. He came across my profile and made an effort to contact me. He was hilarious, sarcastic and smart, all of which I am a sucker for. He was also a lawyer and seemed to have his life together. His pictures implied a “regular joe” kind of style, with baseball hats and t-shirts and a sincere smile. He was built like a football player, which is nice because quite frankly I like some meat on my man. He was balding but that isn’t something I mind (my last two boyfriends were also balding and I found it to be charming) and was seemingly quite hairy everywhere else. Again, no big deal. When a guy is all smooth and hairless it’s a little strange…kind of like those weird hairless cats. It just seems kind of unnatural. My point here is that I wasn’t expecting some kind of Adonis. I was expecting a nice, normal guy who had a killer sense of humor and personality to match.
We had an instantly comfortable and witty rapport over Instant Messenger and proceeded to joke our way through a conversation. Over the next week, we emailed, texted and talked on the phone, each interaction building a little more anticipation and excitement for the eventuality of our meeting. He finally suggested that we go out on Sunday. He had a “great idea” for our date. I was thrilled.
Guys, please take note here if you find yourself surprised that his idea of a “great date” and mine were so so sadly different. I would say that most women would agree with me that a day at the Indy Car Races isn’t exactly romantic. Yes, that’s right. He took me to the races. Had it been the ponies, I’d have loved it. But, race cars, fanny packs, sweltering heat and nachos don’t exactly scream “romance.” I’m getting a little ahead of myself here, because when he suggested it, I thought it might be fun to try something new. At least it wasn’t coffee or cocktails, which tend to be the norm for first dates these days. One leads to bad breath and the other can lead to unfortunate morning after scenarios. Again, I digress.
The morning of the date arrived and I got on BART with high hopes and excitement. “This is going to be fun! Even if we’re not a total match, how bad could this be?” Let me tell you something. When going on a blind date, never EVER ask yourself that question. Because the universe will gladly show you just how bad it really could be. Enter Ben.
Now, to be fair, Ben really is a sweet guy. He means well, but Ben’s profile was misleading and his personality in person was very different from his personality online or even on the phone. He pulled up in his pickup truck (not to stereotype, but have you ever met a Jewish Lawyer who liked (scratch that, loved) racing and drove a pick up truck with a tree shaped american flag air freshener hanging from the rear-view mirror? I hadn’t.) and I got in. I interally groaned so loudly I was afraid he might hear it. I could see the resemblence to his online pictures, but it was faint. Remember that when dating online, the right lighting and angle make all the difference in the world. So does the age of the photograph. Ben’s photos were taken at least 100 pounds ago, so while I was expecting a guy with a football player’s build, I was introduced to a man with a competitive eater’s build and I am not refering to that skinny Japanese kid who can eat like 1000 hotdogs in one go. Not only that, but he was sweating profusely down the sides of his face and the back of his astoundingly hairy neck. It was not that hot in Oakland. This was going to be a long damn day.
Did I mention that his truck was missing the front grill (he didn’t think it was worth replacing) and that we were riding on a spare front tire? Well we were. The usual hour long drive to Sonoma was now doubled because Ben couldn’t go over 50 miles an hour. He kept mentioning how it was more responsible of him to drive slowly anyway, regardless of the tire. The conversation that ensued for the drive up was about as dry as stale toast and just as intersting. Where was the sardonic and witty man from the phone calls and emails? He must have stayed home and sent this other guy in his place. Once we arrived in Sonoma, it was 90 degrees and dusty beyond belief. Welcome to hell.
If you’ve never been to a car racing event of any kind, let me fill you in on some of the “need to know” elements. (A) These people are fantatics. They are fanatics with fanny packs and beer bellys. They are fanatic about America and the NRA. They say things like “Cowboy up!” and mean it. (B) There are many dining options at the races, most of which are similar to the cuisine one might find at a minor leauge ball park or carnival but they cost more than what you might pay at say, Gary Danko. I paid $4 for a small bottle of water. But I was desperate. (C) It is hot. So hot. You will sweat and no matter how much sunscreen you apply, you will feel the sun burning into your skull and feet like a hot poker. Because of the judicious amounts of sunscreen you apply, all of the dust and grime kicked up by the cars will instanly stick to your skin. (D) Bring earplugs. You will go deaf from the roaring thunder of these cars. Forget about trying to have a conversation. It will go something like this. Ben: “sdkhjliu lkdsjoiu dlkj oueld!” Me: “WHAT??” (E) Prepared to be bored. You see the same damn cars drive past you very quickly about every minute or so. That’s it. The best you can hope for is a crash, but who wants to hope for that?
We sat in the sun (Ben brought an umbrella, which was very thoughtful, but it was broken and completely useless) and baked. I had mentioned to him prior to our date that I was pretty sensitive to the heat and that sitting in the shade would be best, if it was an option. He said we had grandstand seats, which provide shade, but we weren’t able to drink in there, so he wanted to sit in the section where drinking was allowed. He downed four Tecates in the span of an hour while I guzzled water and tried to remain calm. Finally, he said we could move. We walked for about a mile and a half to get to the grandstands, where Ben promptly donned a huge pair of headphones and a transistor radio which allowed him to listen to live commentary of the race. Obviously, even if we wanted to have a conversation over the din of the cars, the headphones made it impossible.
Let me remind you once agian of the noise level. It was an overwhleming sonic boom when these cars would zip past. Despite that fact, I fell asleep. Yep. That’s right. I fell asleep on a date, right in front of my date, who didn’t seem to mind. He had a big bag of potato chips and beef jerky to keep him company and the commentary of some rednecks to keep him entertained. Who could ask for more? At least we were in the shade.
Finally it was time to go. The ride home was silent, but for a few attempts to “flirt” with me and hold my hand. (Really???) At one point he asked me if he was what I was expecting. How do you answer that politely when all you want to do is pull a Whitney and say “helltotheno!!” I just smiled tightly and said, “Pretty much” and prayed that he would leave it at that. He did, but he also removed his hat at that point, and my oh my was that something to behold. It was simply the icing (or lack thereof) on the cake.
Guys, let me ask you this. When you are SEVERELY balding, to the point where hair just does not grow on the top of your head at all, why oh why do you insist on holding onto the hair on the sides and the back of your head? Just shave it off. Please. Oh please.
At the end of the day, Ben dropped me off at home, with an awkward hug goodbye and I rushed into the shower to clean the racetrack off and try to regain some composure. I went out to a lovely sushi dinner with a handsome, intelligent and funny male friend who reminded me that there are still good guys out there. They just don’t hang out at the racetrack.
Here it is…out on the table and ready to be served up for all.
Blame
I would like for people to examine why they blame Bush for America’s ills. If it is the power of congress to wage war, yet they give that right up in the wake of 9/11, who is to blame? Isn’t it the job of our “other” elected officials to make sure the president doesn’t have too much power?
Haven’t we gone into country after country to “help” and then put whom we might want in power and then leave things a shambles? No? I would remind you of Cuba, Hawaii, Philippens, Afganistan, and that’s just the start of the list. How is it that now, people have decided they aren’t proud of our country and Bush is the devil?
Propaganda
I’m tired, tired, tired, tired of seeing Barack Obama’s face on the canvas of every artists who has time to do an extra piece. I mean in the end, Barack is apart of the same system that people say have failed them so miserably. Will he use that system to do things differently, yes I’m sure of that, but even by his own words you (we) are the biggest cog in the system, yet I don’t see artists painting pictures of “the people”.
Exactly how much have you been sumerged into propaganda that says what he’s about before really examining for yourself? Endorsements from others doesn’t say much about the endorsee, unless you truly trust the political views and values of the endorser.
The some of it’s parts
America has always been the sum of all it’s parts and not what people my think of it’s pieces. While the world may think we are one thing or the other, we have continued to be both saviors and bullies, artists and athelets, soldiers and activists, politcians and revolutionaries. It is this that should fill us with pride.
Our worst deeds are balanced and can be put into perspective.
The fact that slavory happened in America makes Mr. Obama’s accendence all the more reason to be in america.
That fact that land was stolen, but also given back to Native Americans means that we can’t make up for things we’ve done but can try to move forward.
Being one the most giving nations in the world, doesn’t make it better that we bully others but it does show the innate human capacity for both good and evil.
I am American
I am an American in my heart and my soul. This is the truth regardless of what the world thinks of me or the leader of the nation I love. I do not live for the sake of others and nor do I let their judgments about me affect what it is that I believe. I’m not oblivious to people believing that America and Americans suck, but I do believe that it is a far cry from that being the truth.
It’s our job to help you find the companies and people out there helping us to find independent thought, and we’re happy to report that we’ve recently linked up with another great group.
Project Censored has published (for the second year in a row) the top 25 stories to not be reported on by mainstream media. Check the list and see if you think anything was note worthy, I did! I mean who wouldn’t want to know hunger and homelessness in the us is on the rise, that there are health risks in genetically modified foods, or that Cheney’s Halliburton stock rose over 3000 percent last year. Talk about conflict of interest.
If you have never seen this film you’re time has come. Make a donation to at the corporation.com by clicking below, and say thanks to the 100’s of people who helped put this film together.
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This is San Francisco, home of the disenfranchised, the rebel, the artistic warrior. This is San Francisco, home of the progessive thinker, revolutionary, voice of the voiceless. What better place to celebrate independent thinking, art and culture at it’s best? Even our local government agrees that now is the time to come together to explore, create, celebrate and enjoy the amazing myriad of talent in our fair city!
Mayor Gavin Newsom signed a proclamation in November 2007, officially declaring September 8 - 12 as “Independent Artists Week” in San Francisco! Celebrate Independent Artists Week as Infin8 Sync and friends host various informative and entertaining events throughout the week. Artists Week (IAW) is a weeklong celebration of artists ranging from Musicians and Filmmakers to Fine Artists and Fashion Designers. Everybody will have the opportunity to collaborate, be enlightened and celebrate their industries!
The schedule consists of the following activities:
“Green Day” - Live Artists construct a mural in an art-deprived setting with drinks, live music and poetry
BYOA- Get Graphic - Independent magazines, fashion designers and graphic artists “show their stuff” in a mash up celebration for graphic artists in these industries .
Ear Hustle - Dedicated to the development and progression of the Bay Area Independent Music Industry. Join the conversation of where the Bay’s music scene is headed. Meet people that make it happen and learn what it takes to survive in one of the hardest industries in entertainment.
Lyricist Lounge - Music ‘n Film Conference – The finale and ultimate celebration
Filmmakers and musicians: writers, producers, directors, etc. exhibit their skills while all other facets of the arts come together to show how they are very significant in the film and music industries .
All of these activities will allow for an opportunity of unity and synergy in the independent industry. The target audience for this conference are all artists and supporters, as well as businesses who cater to the artist community. The Bay Area is yearning for an event of this magnitude.
Also, portions of the proceeds from this event will go to the several designated non-profits.
I apologize if the picture above has hurt your eyes. It hurts mine even more because it’s a picture of me. Yep. That’s a 13 year old, tortured soul named Amber. Why on earth would I post this online, not once but twice? To promote a show, of course! The show is Mortified, and yes, I am aware that I have promoted this show in the past. But here’s the difference. This time, I’ll be on stage reading my most private high school thoughts and some of the worst teen poetry you’ve ever heard. It’s going to be a great show and I encourage all of you to come out and share the pain!
It’s Summertime! Time for BBQs, Beaches and long hot angsty confession from your favorite local teenage icons! The heat is on with one of our hottest MORTIFIED’S yet! This one is full of passion, pain, sex and angst!
This month features:
GEORDIE MARTINEZ: After seeing “Dangerous Liaisons”, and having his heart broken, a 17 year old navy kid attempts some Dangerous Liaisons of his own.
AMBER MILNER: The true story of a 6 foot 1 awkward 15 year old girl and her spiral descent into depression and horribly bad poetry.
KEVIN WOFSY: Hear the diary entries of a young boy who came out of the closet right before being shipped to a conservative British boarding school and going right back into the closet.
ANGEL YAU: A real and very self deprecating “vote for me” speech made before her high school class election…partially musical and truly embarrassing!
SEAN SWEENEY: Hear a self-absorbed, unique ripoff of “Lord of the Flies” as a screenplay.
CHRIS WEST: Witness the poetic tragedy that occurs with too much listening to The Cure and not enough time talking to girls!
PLUS: THE RETURN OF THE HOUSE BAND: The nasty raunchy metal sounds of LIVE EVIL doing interpretations of bad 80’s metal songs!
All this and more at your comedy/self-help escape, MORTIFIED!!!
SHARE THE SHAME!
WHAT: Mortified
WHEN: Saturday 8/23 and Monday 8/25
TIME: 8:00pm (Doors Open At 7:00)
WHERE: Make-Out Room (3225 22nd St, San Francisco, CA, 94110)
TIX: www.eventbrite.com
COST: $12 Presale / $15 at Door
