( 4:23 PM )
Monday, June 16, 4PMish, Music Currently Playing: The Microphones, Sound Islands.
Ahem, lesse, lots of generally interesting things to talk about today. The first is Radiohead's Hail to the Theif which I figured I ought to weigh in on before the rest of the 2walls staff start talking about "wiping their butts" [See Fitch's Amnesiac review, 6/20/2001.]
Not submitting an actual reveiw here since my ultimate message is one of negativity, and I agree with Herr Walls, that a negative review is still positive in the sense that it's giving webspace to the reviewed. That said you should know that I have mixed feelings about this release. There are some strong songs on there, the opening track "2+2=5" in particular, which is reminiscent of several of the cuts from OK Computer. My favorite track from it right now is "Myxomatosis," which is a highly weird wall-of-techno-noise, the type of thing that made everyone hate Kid A and Amnesiac so much, (the phillistines! they don't know good expermentation when they hear it!). But a deep sigh of resolve, I have finally come to terms with the fact that Thom and crew are taking themselves way too damn seriously. I mean really, most of these tracks just ooze this brit-angst, this... almost... contempt for the listener. I just want to scream on some of the slower tracks, where Thom's high, whining voice drones on and on over these soft, excessively melodious keyboards and slightly out of tune guitar.
Really, why do I want to listen to musicians who have contempt for me? To answer my own question, it's probably for the same reason that I like reading stuff like David Foster Wallace... at least it's more intellectually challenging, complex, and attention grabbing than the power-chord rock of the Vines or the Hives or the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, (or in the scope of literature, the absolute excrement of Johnathan Franzen or Flannery O'Connor.)
But I think some of my frustration with the Radiohead sound comes on the tails of my current musical obsession ala The Microphones. Right now they are The One (which is not, ahem, a Matrix reference, just a term I use for the item of media that controls the majority of my attention at any given extended period.) Phil in general and the Microphones specifically seem to be operating on a much more honest level. Sure there's quite a bit of experimentation, but it's this intimate experimentation, the kind that would happen in the basement or a garage, alone, late with an old vinyl string guitar and an analog tape recorder, songs for dead girlfriends, songs recoded to be clandestinely included at the ends of mix tapes for friends. Songs you're almost to shy to share. It's not about artistic integrity, it's just about doing what you like, making sounds that make you happy, and any other listener beside yourself is a voyeur, looking in at your secret worlds. Does that make sense?
Ah fuck it. Time to call it a day. Take care faithful blogg readers. Don't get caught in some Borgesian labyrinth or spill ink on your trousers or weep in traffic or wake up only to forget the night's best dreams.
#
( 3:08 PM )
Wednesday, June 4. 1PM. Music Currently Playing: The Microphones, Glow Part 2 (still!)
Have been on a bit of an internet holiday, which I forced myself to take based on my increased reliance on the internet as a primary source of entertainment. I'm becoming a giant mouse potato and I wanted to break myself of the addiction so have spent the past couple of weeks reading (you know, those old-fashioned things called books? They're quite good if you can get past the analog format), and in general just chilling away from technology.
But I was a bit tickled to come back and discover my May 14 blog entry stirred up responses from the other writers here. I have a few things to say about the subject to wrap it up.
The argument that "New Yorkers are rude because that's the only way things get done in a city that size" doesn't really hold for me. Tokyo has a population that vastly exceeds New York City, and the residents are unbearably polite to each other. Obviously this has more to do with Japanese culture than anything else. That politeness is hardwired into the Japanese brain. But even crammed into Shinjuku Station at 6PM with fifteen thousand other commuters, you see people bowing, shifting, making room, and deferring to the elderly. I don't really want Americans to act Japanese (since indeed, in my own experience, they are even more emotionally and socially uptight then most New Yorkers). But their politeness despite the crowds makes that argument suspect.
What this brings up for me though is the varying levels of politeness in major cities around the world, at least so far as I have experienced it.
London: The politeness of the Brits is a bit funny to me, and perhaps another counter-example to the idea that rudeness is the only way to get things done. And yet, my own experience of extreme London manners is that it is actually a concealed form of rudeness. That is to say, amidst all the polite deferrment and gently articulated social ritual is this barely contained contempt they all seem to have for each other, and especially non-Londoners. Indeed, as a compatively brash, opinionated, enthusiastic, stand-out American (who nonetheless did his best, while there, to maintain a low profile and generally try to defy the stereotype of the "rude American traveling abroad"), I discovered that the more polite someone acted toward me, the more clearly their contempt was made obvious. The London Underground is wonderfully clean and easy to navigate, and even when I was riding during peak hours, nobody pushed or shoved. Even the safety announcements are polite on the London Underground. You get this semi-erotic female voice reminding you politely to "mind the gap" anytime a train arrives and the doors open.
Paris: Well it's nearly a cliche that Parisians are rude, and that this rudeness eclipses even that of New Yorkers. And having experienced it firsthand in cafes and museums and the back of taxis, and in the horrifically convoluted and ridiculously confusing subway system, I can say that it's a pretty much deserved reputation. But it should be clarified that this rudeness is far different than the New York rudeness. New York rudeness has it's roots in a personal selfishness. The idea what whatever a particular New Yorker needs at a given time is more important than those around him. Parisian rudeness is more of a rudeness of superiority. Parisians seem to generally beleive that, as residents of Paris, they are better than the rest of us, indeed better than their fellow countryment that do not live in Paris. My wife, who lived in Angers (in the Loire valley) for a year, tells stories of being sneered at for her particular non-Parisian French accent by Parisians. Go figure. Though, having read Nietzche's "On the Advantage and Disadvantage of History for Life" enough times, I tend to agree that this feeling of cultural superiority is the sign of a healthy culture. The culture that regards itself as superior to all others tends to have a strong definition of themselves and lots of reasons to feel that their particular way of life is superior. I think the Parisians to some extent may be a little justified in their feelings of superiority. Paris is an amazing city to spend time in if you can get past the citizenry. That these feelings of superiority can (and historically do) evolve into racism is definitely an issue. And anyhow it does make you really difficult to deal with.
Madrid (and Spain in generall): Madrid is obviously smaller than London or Paris or New York. But the Spainiards, of anyone I've ever met in my travels aside from the amazing people of Mexico, are the most friendly, enthusiastic, interested, welcoming people I have ever had the opportunity to spend time with. I had taxi drivers showing me pictures of his family. I had waiters comping me drinks for making hilariously muddled attempts to order in Spanish. And in no other city of its size in the world did I feel safe wandering the streets or taking the subway home at 4am. While there I met store owners were eager to assist, and the public servants, especially the police, were extremely polite, well mannered and helpful. People I know who lived for extended period in Madrid and Seville said that they stopped locking their doors. Now granted, I think that this is probably because Spain gets more sleep than any other country. Seriously. I mean the day starts at a pleasant 9am. Then lunch rolls around at noon, and everyone disappears. I remember needing to find a bank representative who could help me with a funds transfer and needing to basically make sure I showed up between 9 and noon or it would be impossible to find a bank that was open. They all eat lunch and then go home and take naps. What a wonderful idea for a happier planet earth, eh? Mandatory naps. Imagine the bile-choked citizens of New York being told they all had to go home for a while and relax between the hours of one and four PM. There are people I've worked with who would probably have violent siezures at the thought.
Berlin: I have yet to have the enjoyment of visiting this city, nor Germany in general. My brother-in-law was an exchange student there for a year though, and lives now here in Tucson with his girlfriend who is from there, and I get a sense that the German attitude it probably the closest to the New York attitude. I am told that Germans are generally extremely punctual and logical and orderly, as such do tend to justify a bit of surliness when things are running behind. I am told, however, that to some extent this may be the artifact of living in the shadow of a communist regime for so long. The lack of manners is not out of a desire to be rude, but just because the cultural environment of Berlin for so long was very very tense and the fact that the source of that tension is removed has not changed the residual feeling of it in many of it's citizens. Still, and again this is second hand, unlike most Americans, and especially unlike New Yorkers, I am told that the residents of Berlin and indeed Germany in general tend to have a really good perspective on "what's important" (in life.) I am told that they often scoff at the American attitude where your job or your career takes precedent over all other aspects of your life. As such, I'd suspect that the pushiness of New Yorkers in a professional arena would probably be unacceptable to the typical German, if only because, unlike the New Yorker, the German realize that, hey man, it's just a job.
Mexico City (and Mexico in general). If any city, or indeed country disproves the argument that rudeness is justified, it's the Mexicans, whom I love intensely as a people, as a culture, and as creators the worlds best food. Mexico City is foul. It's nasty, it's horrifically crowded, sickeningly polluted, it's an obscene collision of third-world poverty and first-world capitalism like something out of a William Gibson novel. And yet the people tend to maintain their genuinely unique Mexican attitude of "Maņana" in the midst of such violent sprawl. There is no reason to hurry in Mexico. Things get done when they get done, and fussing about it just makes everybody fussy. This attitude (as well as the fact that graft and bribery is completely acceptable and frequently practiced) is probably the main cultural conflict most foreigners face when doing any type of extensive travel in Mexico. "When will the bus back to civilization arrive?" "Maņana." "Uh, when do you think the part for my broken down car will come?" "Maņana." "Hey, the wire transfer from my parents in the states that I need to rent a hotel room tonight, when will it be processed?" "Maņana." And no matter how nasty or rude you get, the answer is still the same. Indeed, friends from Mexico tell me that any rudeness from foreigners generally adds three to four EXTRA days to Maņana. I like the Mexican refusal to get stressed out over anything. No one should ever have that power over you, the power to ruin your day with their rudeness, their need to hurry. I think they have pretty much mastered this technique in Mexico. They are Zen Masters of Maņana, and if I had my way, I'd emulate it as much as possible.
Anyhow, I am running out of steam on this issue. Basically I don't think I'd ever be cut out to live on the east coast. I think that nothing in your job, indeed nothing in your life save the immediate safety of your loved ones, is worth your worry and your hurry. It's a shame that New Yorkers are living with the illusion that their pushy attitude is justified. I know my lack of such sure makes my life more pleasant.
#
|
