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I have to make this relatively quick today, so it’s a good thing that this travesty pretty much speaks for itself. From the BBC:

A remix of Singin’ in the Rain that was used by Britain’s Got Talent winner George Sampson has shot to number one in the UK singles chart. The song, best known as the title track in Gene Kelly’s 1952 film, was reworked by Manchester dance act Mint Royale.

Oh. Dear. God.

No, I will not give them anymore attention by posting that nonsense here. Is this a sign that Poptasticism is going over to the dark side? I’m sure you can find the Mint Royale version if you want to offend your ears badly enough. But come back here when you’re done and listen to the original. You’ll need it to cleanse your soul.

   Gene Kelly - Singin’ In The Rain

Where the hell is Patrick Wolf?!?! I know the shortlist was announced almost two weeks ago but, yup, I’m still angry about this. Is the Mercury panel or whoever they are really trying to say that the Arctic Monkeys’ Favourite Worst Nightmare is more of an accomplishment than The Magic Position?! Oh, dear. I’ve said it before and, even through my irritation, I still even mean it - I have nothing against those Monkeys. But, dang, Patrick Wolf made an album unlike anything I have ever heard before (and far better than most things I have heard) and he’s not even shortlisted? I’m a fan of a bunch of the albums on the list, but none of them even come close to The Magic Position.

Wait a minute … Now that I’m thinking about it, where the hell is one of my other recent favorites, Pop Levi’s The Return To Form Black Magick Party?

I think we need a new prize, STAT.

   Patrick Wolf - Augustine
   Pop Levi - Dollar Bill Rock

Avril Lavigne’s “Girlfriend” is a cute and catchy song, but the lyrics are not so great. And by not so great I mean really really really reallyreallyreally bad. Then why? Why would you want to brag about the fact that you inspired these words, let alone sue the girl for stealing them from you?? Which is exactly what The Rubinoos did. As you may have heard they’re suing everybody’s favorite Canadian faux-rebel pop princess because they claim “Girlfriend” resembles their song “I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend” (not to be confused with The Ramones’ “I Wanna Be your Boyfriend”, for god’s sake).

   The Rubinoos - I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend

After listening to the song all I have to say is, are they freaking kidding me with this?!? SO the chorus sounds a bit like Avril’s, but as long as they haven’t bought the rights to the line ‘Hey (hey) You (you)’ I don’t think they have even a smidge of a case. Avril’s crack team of lawyers pointed out that The Rolling Stones used the line lightyears before either of them came on the scene and you don’t hear them crying about it.

   The Rolling Stones - Get Off Of My Cloud

Let’s not forget Billy Ocean’s awesome use of the words in “Get Outta My Dreams (Get Into My Car)”, which - being a child of the eighties - is the first song that pops into my head when I think of the hey you line.

   Billy Ocean - Get Outta My Dreams (Get Into My Car)

Well, whatever the outcome I guess The Rubinoos win because before all this hoopla I had never, ever even heard of them. Not even a little bit.

Memory Almost Full

So you may have heard by now that Starbucks’ label Hear Music and Paul McCartney are in bed together. The Starbucks staff has had to listen to Sir Paul’s latest on a loop ALL day to promote the release. How special for them. I don’t get the whole Starbucks goes music enterprise anyway. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good caramel latte as much as the next person, but since when are distributors of over-priced, flavored coffee experts on music? I wonder how long it’s gonna take for other chains to say if ‘Starbucks can do it, well gosh darned, so can we!’ Before you know it the Kings of fast food and popular horror novels - Burger and Stephen respectively - will combine their powers and put out a Double King special with a Whopper of a suspense novel. Or Madonna will promote her next tour at a popular Swedish clothing store … oh. Some might misinterpret this brilliant marketing move as a sign that music is indeed nothing more than another mass-produced product to be sold along side hot beverages and skinny-fit faded jeans. Of course they’d be wrong, it’s a soulful art that needs to reach the broadest audience possible so artists like Paul McCartney won’t starve.

One guy interviewed on CNN said that people were tired of going all the way to the music stores to buy CDs. That makes me sad. I wonder what it means as an artist when people can’t be bothered to pick up your albums unless it’s right there at the counter of their local coffeeshop. Anyway, you can now spruce up your coffee break with a banana bran muffin and Paul’s new CD Memory Almost Full.

   The White Stripes - One More Cup Of Coffee

The Missing Basketball

Okay, whoever has the fucking basketball just give it back already.

Damn.

And, before this gets out of hand, no, the photo is the not the basketball in question.

Free The West Memphis Three

Today is West Memphis Three Awareness Day. Make yourself aware. Recent DNA testing - agreed with the prosecution after much wrangling - have resulted in developments said to be significant and could mean a new trial.

Learn more about the facts and news in the case at the West Memphis Three site and contribute to the WM3 Support Fund.

If you think it couldn’t happen to you - think again. It can. It has. It does.

   Black Flag - Rise Above

I’m not a massive fan of poetry, which, I’m sure, is probably because, like opera, I just haven’t been educated enough regarding its finer points to fully appreciate it. But, this isn’t about poetry. It’s about defiling a perfectly good artform I do understand. This is the music curmudgeon in me coming out.

If you’ve paid attention to the news the past two days, you may already know what’s coming. If you haven’t been paying attention to the Happy News segments, then you don’t already know the Cumbria county tourism bureau has come up with what they feel is an innovative way to bring one of their past luminaries to the attention of a whole new generation.

Apparently, those in Generation X, Y, and Z can only understand and relate to William Wordsworth’s “I Wandered Lonely As A Cloud” - commonly known as “Daffodils” (see, I’m not a total dimwit, though I did have to access the Internets to learn the actual title) - when a large demented squirrel translates and raps it for us.

For reference, here is the original “I Wandered Lonely As A Cloud”:

I wandered lonely as a Cloud
That floats on high o’er Vales and Hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:-
A poet could not but be gay
In such a jocund company:
I gazed-and gazed-but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude,
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the Daffodils.

Now, for those of you who simply can’t relate to that, here’s the updated translation. This will be filed under Novelty Rap, Dumb. Right next to Rapping, see Rappin’.

PMRC

I was curious about where the Parental Advisory warning came from and who the people who thought it up were in the first place. Well here they are, don’t they look like a wholesome bunch? These are the women who want to shield their children from images and songs about sex and violence even though they all look like Alexis from Dynasty’s regular bitch slappin’ partners.

People are built to covet that which has been labeled as forbidden. There are examples of that going all the way back to the day that Eve was walking around Paradise basking in the light of eternal bliss and God’s everlasting approval and thought “yeah this is all great, but what I really want is a bellyful of that mangy looking forbidden fruit”. So if you want one surefire way to get kids to listen to certain songs that might not have even been a blip on their radars put them on a Big Bad List Of Naughty, which is exactly what Tipper Gore, better half of Al “Global Warming is bad” Gore, and her band of merry wives of politicians did. In 1985 they started The Parent Music Resource Center (PMRC) and put out a list of songs, known as the Fitlhy Fifteen that made them clutch their pearls and weep for the brutal attack on their delicate chidren’s angelic innocence and purity. They are also the ones who introduced the idea of a Parental Advisory: Explicit Content sticker, giving most Hip Hop and Heavy Metal artists something to strive for.

I don’t have anything against the Parental Advisory warning, because the artists don’t seem to mind, some even wear them as a badge of honor. I guess as long as parents still buy their younger children’s CDs they can decide whether they risk exposing their children to “the filth”. The thing that I can’t wrap my head around is the fact that these women actually believe that the sources of evil in their precious offspring’s life come from the music they listen to.

The PMRC are of the opinion that the increase in rape, drug use, teen suicide and pregnancy is due to the explicit nature of music. Ah, when in doubt turn to the usual suspects. We don’t need no stinkin’ scientific back up, by the powers of deduction we can clearly see that the culprit has to be music. It cannot be crappy parenting, bad education, an all consuming fear of Bin Laden and his minions, poverty, abuse, neglect, or any other of the numerous possible factors, it has to be music, cuz it’s right there in their rooms and all we have to do is throw it out and all is right in the world. If all the kids listened to the Carpenters there would be no crimes and we would live in harmony. Following their reasoning they’d all end up Boulimic but, oh well, at least they’re not pregnant and snorting speed with their raping biker boyfriends.

Here’s the list from 1985. Doesn’t it look like the ultimate great songs of the 80’s mix? I love the fact that they gave us the categories after the songs for our convenience:

1 Prince “Darling Nikki” Sex/Masturbation
2 Sheena Easton “Sugar Walls” Sex
3 Judas Priest “Eat Me Alive” Sex
4 Vanity “Strap on Robbie Baby” Sex
5 Mötley Crüe “Bastard” Violence
6 AC/DC “Let Me Put My Love into You” Sex
7 Twisted Sister “We’re Not Gonna Take It” Violence
8 Madonna “Dress You Up” Sex
9 W.A.S.P. “Animal (Fuck Like a Beast)” Sex/Language
10 Def Leppard “High ‘n’ Dry (Saturday Night)” Drug and Alcohol Use
11 Mercyful Fate “Into the Coven” Occult
12 Black Sabbath “Trashed” Drug and Alcohol Use
13 Mary Jane Girls “In My House” Sex
14 Venom “Possessed” Occult
15 Cyndi Lauper “She Bop” Sex/Masturbation

I didn’t even know that “We’re Not Gonna Take It” was that violent, I just thought it was about rebellious teens. Neither had I ever thought about the fact that Madonna’s “Dress You Up” was about sex. Songs that used to be just pretty ditties with a catchy chorus, are now scanned and scrutinzed for the dirty parts, so thank you PMRC for unlocking the inner perv in kids everywhere.

One of the concerned mothers of PMRC claims that “Much has changed since Elvis’ seemingly innocent times. Subtleties, suggestions, and innuendo have given way to overt expressions and descriptions of often violent sexual acts, drug taking, and flirtations with the occult.” There is absolutely no truth in this claim, there have always been songs that were clearly about sex, or violence and even drugs. Johnny Cash alone covered most of the things on the PMRC’s taboo list and The Dominoes 1950’s hit “Sixty Minute Man” is all but subtle about sex:

There’ll be fifteen minutes of kissin’
Then you’ll holler “Please don’t stop” (Don’t stop!)
There’ll be fifteen minutes of teasin’
Fifteen minutes of squeezin’
And fifteen minutes of blowin’ my top…

Elvis himself sang on “Baby Let’s Play House”: I’d rather see you dead little girl than to be with another man. It’s beautiful how innocent the delicate hint about jealousy driven murder in that good old song is, isn’t it?

Which makes me wonder if these women ever did listen to Rock ‘n Roll, the very term derived from an old slang term for sex. They probably had to divert their eyes when Elvis provocatively jiggled his pelvis and turn the channel when Little Richard sang about how Good Golly Miss Molly liked to ball. I shudder to think what the soundtrack of their lives must be like, Engelbert Humperdink is probably about as edgy as they can handle. Though he sang the song - made famous by Beavis and Butthead, called “Lesbian Seagull” and his last name is a bit racy, so we can scratch him off their soundtrack too. Poor Engelbert.

Couchgrass - Look At Me I’m Sandra Dee

The Loves

I know it’s supposed to be New Band Day, but I came across The Loves earlier and I got distraced. I had never heard about them, but I loved all the songs I could get my hands on. I learned that they weren’t new enough for New Band Day, so I was just about ready to write about a proper New Band when I read something that got me a bit pissy. I really have to get this off my chest first, I’ll write the real New Band Day post in a bit.

The very grumpy BBC Wales gave this band a shitty review, but they really do NOT deserve it. I know it’s from two years ago, but this is just one of a big group of reviewers who seem to have forgotten that sometimes it’s ok to relax and just have fun. How much of a cynical, pretentious buttface do you have to be to not enjoy The Loves’ upbeat and wonderfully catchy songs? It’s true that they have the last thirty-ish years to thank for their sound, but they do it with such, ehm, love and infectious enthusiasm.

They’re a sextet from Wales, their first album came out in 2004 and their next is ready for the public in two months. They mix the last three decades like they happened all at once and they sound fresher and a helluva lot more fun than many of the super edgy, experimental rock bands. “Love” reminds me of a compacter Polyphonic Spree, with its slightly corny but-you-secretly-want-to-believe-it chorus. My favorite one so far, “Depeche Mode” is a crazy amalgamation of eighties synth pop and California surf pop. You can download these and more songs from their myspace.

The Loves - Depeche Mode

Billy Idol

I don’t know why - maybe because of my New Band Day post last week - I’ve been thinking a lot about the way most people seem unable to allow indie/punk/alternative/whatever to co-exist with pop. Why? I’ve read a bunch of reviews of an indie album I love from a few different websites that I actually respect (I won’t mention any names) and they all seem to agree that the album in question is good, but also that it’s quite poppy. Which means, apparently, that it can’t get a properly good review. It’s like a few points are immediately deducted if a band shows any pop influence. I don’t understand why exactly, but I don’t think we’re supposed to ask. (This threatens to crush my theory from the other day, but I think reviewers of the indie/alternative persuasion will probably always be The Resistance.) I’m always the first to complain that most pop - especially right now - is pretty bad, but I don’t mean that anything with poppy elements to it must by nature be terrible.

Which brings me to my Poptastic choice for this week: the one and only Billy Idol. Yes, he was part of the punk phenomenon in England and then used it to become a pop star. But I really have to ask: So what?! Everyone that’s dorky about music knows that this is the cycle that all music makes in the end. A new sound is born, goes through the underground and eventually towards the charts, and then pop versions of it start sprouting up all over the place. It happened to hip-hop (Vanilla Ice), to grunge (Staind, Nickleback), and, yup, it also happened to punk. You can go ahead and blame Billy Idol, but someone else would’ve done it if he hadn’t. (That’s assuming he was the first, which I don’t actually know for sure.) So when this happens to the music we love, why can’t people separate the original stuff from the pop and enjoy them both on their own merits? Why is anything poppy automatically horrible music?

So no, Billy Idol can’t really be considered “real punk” (the solo years, at least), but he sure was fun. I guess I don’t understand why that isn’t enough sometimes. Why can’t we love The Clash and understand what they meant and have a giggle dancing with ourselves every once in a while?

   Billy Idol - Dancing With Myself

At first I thought Guillemots were all dreamy and floaty. Then I thought they weren’t. Then I bought the album and they kind of are, but not in the way I thought. Some of it has this sweeping orchestral thing going on, and really is quite beautiful and moving, just not in that overly pretty way. But some is like some crazy danceable indie pop that sounds a bit like what would happen if you took a few members from Belle & Sebastian, The Polyphonic Spree, and the late-80s/early-90s The Cure and shoved them in a room together. Only kind of not.

Which means, obviously, that they’re doing something very different. Unlike some of the other Mercury Prize nominees. I was thinking about this while I was listening to Through The Windowpane this morning - I’m kind of disappointed in the nominees this year. I admit that I haven’t heard most of the albums, but c’mon - Arctic Monkeys? They’re good and all, but this is the same competition that honored Dizzee Rascal, Franz Ferdinand, and M.I.A. in the last few years (I’m still pretending that she won, don’t mess with me). These are all artists that did something different and new, they changed popular music. And, geez, Editors? Sigh. Anyways, like I said, I can’t judge most of albums nominated, but there’s at least a few that I’m bummed to see listed.

But Guillemots have definitely got originality on their side. I only got the CD a few days ago, and have barely had a chance to listen to it. This is my favorite so far.

   Guillemots - Trains To Brazil

The Del Vikings

When I first introduced Poptastic Day, I said something about never posting anything that’s considered ‘good’ music. The Del Vikings are probably breaking that rule, but there’s a certain smiley corniness that comes with doo-wop, so I reckon it’s alright.

I got my current record player for my birthday a few years ago, and I went on a bit of a record shopping expedition in celebration. I went around to this 50s music shop in Amsterdam in search of some Coasters or Buddy Holly or just something good and cheerful. They had the sleeve (not the record, mind you) for Elvis’ ‘68 Comeback Special on sale. The man running the shop acted like I was a moron for asking why. I guess the question was just too stupid for him to bother answering, and I still don’t know why you would sell a sleeve with no vinyl. The only thing I can think of is that it’s so rare, people might want a better condition sleeve than the one they have or whatever. But the thing is, I emailed some vinyl collectible shop in the UK after that, looking for that same Elvis album; they didn’t have it but had looked it up for me and, according to them, it’s not especially rare or worth all that much. Hmm, I guess I’ll never know about that sleeve thing.

Anyway. I looked around for a while and when I went to pay for the one record I wanted, the man asked if I had found what I was looking for. With total disdain, of course. I guess I was just not good enough for 50s music, there’s no way I could properly appreciate it. I was a little tired of his attitude, so I said that no, I hadn’t found anything on my list actually. When I mentioned The Coasters, he made some snide remark about them being just a novelty act and implied that real music lovers don’t like that crap, so he didn’t bother to stock any of their records. Sigh. I also mentioned that I wanted some Del Vikings, and it was like he turned into a completely different person, smiles all around. As if me knowing about the Del Vikings made me a more respectable person. Geez, what an ass. I haven’t gone back to that store since, and I never will.

I guess that was just a totally random story that I felt like sharing for some reason. The Del Vikings may not be ridiculous like most of our Poptastic Day posts, but they’re (slightly cheesy) Pop at it’s finest. I don’t mean to imply that they weren’t great - they were a fantastic group and every note they sing makes me grin. If you don’t know about the Del Vikings, learn more at Destination Doo-wop. “Come Go With Me” is a classic - I especially like the big YEAH! almost exactly halfway through the song, look out for it.

   The Del Vikings - Come Go With Me

Free The West Memphis 3

Today is West Memphis 3 Awareness Day. If you’ve never heard of them, here’s the deal. There’s these three guys in prison in Arkansas, for crimes they had absolutely nothing to do with. Today marks the 13th anniversary of Jesse Misskelley, Jason Baldwin, and Damien Echols’ imprisonment. They’ve been locked up for 13 years. If you’re sitting all cosy in your bedroom, like me, you can probably help them.

Before I tell you just a little bit about their case, something has to be mentioned that is usually forgotten. The WM3 were arrested for the murders of three little boys, just eight years old. At the end of this post, I’ll give you all some links to read more about the case in general, and you’ll be able to find out more about the original crime as well. Suffice it to say, it was horrible and hideous and should never, ever, ever have happened. As important as it is to get the WM3 out of prison, it’s just as important to remember that whoever is actually guilty of this crime should be found.

Jesse, Jason, and Damien have come to be known as the West Memphis 3, obviously, because of where they’re from and where the murders took place, a kind of poor and very religious area. These three were picked out because they were different, because they listened to heavy metal and wore black clothes. It may seem insane to some of us, but I guess they seemed like a threat to a lot of people. The investigation had gone on too long with no arrests and something had to happen, quick. Damien Echols, who was seen as a problem child to some members of the community, must have seemed like a sure shot. He was weird and didn’t fit in anywhere and thus must have been involved in some kind of satanic cult. Jason just happened to be his best friend, so he may as well be taken down, too. And Jesse? Well, a young man who is pretty close to being mentally handicapped is easy to manipulate, which is exactly what you need to set up a case against someone when you have no evidence whatsoever. These three guys fit the bill perfectly, and the police wouldn’t have to deal with the community panic any longer. It was quick and easy and they could all look like heroes.

Jesse was questioned, and was forced into a confession. If you don’t believe me, read the transcripts of the interrogation. When Jesse says something that conflicts with the what the police know to be true (most obviously with the time of the murders), they twist him around and put words into his mouth until he spits back exactly what they want him to say. Young and probably very scared, it didn’t take him long to figure out how to make it all stop.

With a description of a satanic ritual in hand, the police went for Damien and Jason. With evidence like Damien’s journal (with disturbing Metallica lyrics and satanic doodles written inside) and an expert on satanic cults, the trials were pretty much what you’d expect. Jesse and Jason are now serving life sentences, and Damien is currently on death row.

The case is incredibly complicated and I wouldn’t be able to give you accurate detail, so I haven’t even tried. I hope I’ve given you enough information to make you want to know more. If you’re with me on this, help them. What they need most is support and money. A lot of their legal work is done for free, by lawyers and experts who believe in them. But they still need to pay for other stuff, most importantly DNA testing that wasn’t available when they were originally tried. You can donate to any of their defense funds, but Damien really needs it the most, for now. If you can’t donate anything, tell your friends about them and maybe they’ll tell someone else, and so on.

I don’t know how to write about these guys without being emotional. I worry about them at night. I think of them when I’m out having fun at a concert because they should be out having fun as well. I think about how frustrating it must be to be locked away, year after year, and how trapped they must feel in a legal system that has done nothing but let them down. It breaks my heart. The only thing I can figure is that I can help Damien in whatever way I can, which will in turn help Jesse and Jason, which will in turn help the many others out there in similar situations. If you have the time to be reading this, then you surely have a half hour to read more about them. Please do, every little bit will help them.

Go to the official WM3 support site and find out more about the three and the case. The site is run by three supporters, who do all of the work for free, and have an amazing archive of legal information and evidence online for you to look through for yourself.

Donate to The Damien Echols Defense Fund via Paypal, which you can find out about here.

Find out other ways to help here.

Order the amazing book about the case, by journalist Mara Leveritt here (US) (though, if you order via wm3.org, they get a percentage of the total to help run the site) or here (UK). While you’re there, also pick up Damien’s beautifully written book, Almost Home, to hear his side of the story.

Watch the two documentaries by the makers of “Metallica: Some Kind Of Monster” (The first was made during the trials, the second four years later), available to order on DVD here and here (US), or here (UK - amazon has it listed as a US import, but it isn’t).

Pearl Jam

Today I’m going to answer that age-old music geek question: What was the first album you bought? It’s a tricky thing, because no matter what your first album was, you always wish it was cooler. I don’t count those poppy-silly things you listened to when you were really little, like New Kids On The Block or Milli Vanilli. (Whatever. Don’t try to pretend that you didn’t like them.) Those are important, too, even if they are a little embarrassing, but it’s a different question. I’m talking about the first album that you bought with your own saved-up allowance, that first band that you loved that was grown-up music, the first album that you wanted that you didn’t hear about through your older brother or cool cousin.

Mine was Pearl Jam, Ten. I loved that album more than anything I had ever owned before. I don’t really remember, but I must’ve seen the video for “Evenflow” or “Alive” and just clung on to it. I listened to it all day, every day, and while I was falling asleep, I played Side A in the background. My family took a trip to New York for a few days for a family reunion and I couldn’t bear to be away from Ten for that long; I took it with me, along with my brother’s borrowed walkman, just so I could still fall asleep to it.

It’s been nearly 15 years since Ten was released and I still love it as much as I did in back in 1991. The amazon.com editorial review says, “Over time, PJ’s rep as a politically correct band just a little too above it all to prostitute its music on MTV has nearly superseded the music. But before that, they were a simply an in-your-face, in-your-head, loud, melodic rock band.” I think that’s all bollocks. It trivializes both what they do now and what they did then. They were so much more than “simply … a melodic rock band”. It’s hard to remember now, just like it’s hard to imagine the world before The Beatles, but the “Seattle Sound” really was as new and fresh as everyone says. And I won’t even go near that “politically correct band” comment, it’s just not worth it. Pearl Jam does what they want and what they believe in and they don’t kiss anyone’s ass. I respect that. A lot of people have moved on from Pearl Jam over time, but I reckon those are the people who hate when bands change and just want them to keep making the same album over and over. Once their sound started moving away from grunge, a lot of people claimed that they’d lost it. I don’t agree with that either. Pearl Jam is just as good as they always were, if not as explosive. If that’s not your thing, that’s fine, but don’t blame the band.

Pearl Jam, their eighth album (not counting live albums and b-sides and whatnot) will be out in a little over a week. Here’s my little tribute to how they’ve been a massive part of the Soundtrack of Nearly My Whole Life.

   Pearl Jam - Alive (1991)
   Pearl Jam - I Am Mine (2002)

It is indeed New Band Day, but I’ll get on that later. For now, I had to post this, because it just may be the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Ever.

What a waster

The Sun today launches a campaign to get Pete locked up and off the streets.

Some will try to see a funny side in his latest comedy of errors. But the joke has worn thin. The reality is seedy and sad.

So far the legal system has been letting him do what he likes.

But it’s time to lock him up, give him counselling, offer him help.

Pete promises to be a great musician — but behind closed doors he suffers terrible depression and mental health issues.

He is prone to bursting into tears at any moment.

The constant arrests are a cry for help.

Pete MUST get a prison sentence before he dies or causes a major traffic accident.

I’d love to take credit for finding this ridiculous story, but it actually came from No Rock And Roll Fun so I offer my thanks to them (and I hope I’ve credited them properly). Go there to check out their take on it, or check out the full story at The Sun Online.

I had hoped never to blog about Pete Doherty, not because I have anything against him - his business is his business, and I’m not sure why his problems should be my business - but because there are thousands of blog posts out there already if you need a fix. Unless Babyshambles releases another single as fabulous as “Fuck Forever”, I promise this’ll be my one and only Pete Doherty post.

In the beginning, there was Punk. (Ok, it wasn’t the beginning, but it is for this story.) Punk came along because Rock had become fat and lazy. But it didn’t last - The Sex Pistols imploded and Blondie hit the big time. There was some nifty Post-Punk stuff going on, but it got all a bit icky as the 80s progressed. Guitar-ish music hit a funk and was taken over by the fun-lovin’ 80s pop charts. But, huzzah! - there was this new-fangled music they called Rap, or The Hip-Hop. And it was good. And there was Grunge and, following the demise of The One They Called Kurt Cobain, Britpop. They were good, too, but short-lived and everything after it became a sad copy of stolen sounds. In the States, Rock bands were increasingly bloated versions of Nirvana and Pearl Jam until they eventually became Staind and Nickleback. In the UK, S Club Seven and Atomic Kitten took over and anyone with a guitar went into hiding.

But there was still Hip-Hop, so teenagers with ears still had something great to listen to. There was Missy Elliot, and The Fugees (for a little while), and Busta Rhymes, and Outkast, and Mos Def, and the Wu-Tang Clan, and The Roots. Most of those guys are still around, but now they’re considered some sort of Alternative Hip-Hop. They used to be Top 40.

There seems to be some sort of see-saw thing that goes on with Rock and Hip-Hop. For the first time since Britpop fizzled out, Rock is interesting again - and, whether you’re fans or not, we have The Strokes and The White Stripes to thank for it. But while Rock is up, Hip-Hop is down - in a major way. (I’m speaking of Popular/Chart music here. I know there’s always good underground stuff to be found, in any genre.) Who exactly is going to save Popular Hip-Hop now? 50 Cent? The Game? Even Eminem is getting tired. And don’t even get me started on The Black Eyed Peas.

Hip-Hop all sounds the same now, and it’s all ass. There was once a time when it was good to sound different.

“Nowadays everybody tries to copy what the hot style is. There are guys out there that are like Frankensteins, this kind of ghoulish pastiche of Jay-Z and Biggie and Nas and whoever else they feel they need to sound like to get paid,” said writer/historian Brian Coleman. “In the ’80s you’d get laughed off the stage for copying someone else’s style. That was considered heresy.”
(qtd. in “Remembering The Golden Age Of Hip-Hop”)

Personally, I blame Ja Rule. He started the whole skinny-R&B-singer-chorus thing, and now it’s all anyone does, song after song after song.

I stopped listening to Hip-Hop after The Strokes and The White Stripes changed everything, but not because I stopped liking it. It stopped being good.

But I’ve rediscovered The Beat. Everybody’s already blogged their asses off about this, but we should all have copies of both Dizzee Rascal albums, and of M.I.A.’s Arular (which got robbed at the Mercury Awards).

And it’s not just hip-hop beats that are blasting out of my stereo right now. You should all go pick up the Cut Copy’s Bright Like Neon Love - it’s like the 80s, only better. And I was lucky enough to get a copy of The Infadels’ We Are Not The Infadels a few weeks ago, and I’ve been playing in non-stop ever since. It was officially released this week - if you know what’s good for you, you’ll go out right now and get yourself a copy. The Infadels do funk-punk not unlike The Rapture and LCD Soundsystem, but with a lot more punch and more consistent quality. (I love about half of both The Rapture’s and LCD Soundsystem’s efforts, but get a little bored with the other halves.) If you don’t believe me, check out “Love Like Semtex” and “Topboy”, two songs that are already on my Best Of 2006 list.

I sure did miss The Beat.

Oh here it goes. Oasis. For a long time I didn’t want to buy their records, even though I loved their work in the mid-nineties. The reason I was so reluctant to give in to their self-proclaimed greatness is because they piss me off as people. However, now I have as good as all their work on an mp3 cd I purchased in Indonesia, which worked out well for me: I didn’t give them any of my money, but I still get to enjoy their best work whenever I want to. Plus, I supported the local Indonesian community, sort of. (All you officers of the law out there, I’m just being funny to attract potential readers, I would never do something like that, no sir.) I know I’m not the first one to say it by far, but them Gallagher brothers say stuff that makes them look so small, it’s hard not to comment on them. So I’ve decided to surrender to my need to rant, if only once.

How petty is it, especially as an artist with some cachet, to call other bands by name and tell the public just exactly what is crap about them. I understand that it is a big part of their shtick, to lash out at certain people publicly, which is probably why barely anybody takes them seriously anymore - not in interviews anyway. I understand they probably wouldn’t be who they are if they weren’t using the media as their personal mud-slinging device, but I’m also allowed to bitch about them when they do. So here is the one bitching session about a Gallagher I’ll allow myself.

In an interview for an Australian radio station, Noel Gallagher comments on today’s British bands and why they are “indie shit”. The reason for that, according to him, is that they’re not trying to make it BIG. Forgetting that not everybody is as hungry for fame as he is. Some people actually just love making the music, or love groupies, or would be unemployed if they weren’t on a stage. Whatever the reason, sometimes Making It Big is not always the main objective. Why that automatically makes the band “indie shit” is beyond me. Seems to me, anyone who does claim they’re gonna be the world’s greatest nowadays - which, incidentally, got tired after Muhammad Ali stopped doing it - is most likely auditioning for Idol.

Franz Ferdinand seem to get a compliment, but then he actually calls them “fucking indie rubbish”. Well, Mr. Gallagher, it seems the rubbish is taking the world by storm. In fact, it looks like the stink of indie filth is oozing through the layers of Popdom more and more. Many popular artists want at least some aspect of today’s indie sound in their own work. Oasis, on the other hand, seem to have peaked a while ago and are watching the new bands - yes, even in their super trendy indie school boy attire - win the chart race. That must sting a little.

We at 100b read many music magazines, but don’t really have the time to read any. Thus, in this installment of How The Music Press Is Crap, we’ll be discussing a two-month old issue of Rolling Stone. (Incidentally, I have no idea why we read these magazines, they just end up forcing us to complain about them in public.)

In September (issue number 982), Rolling Stone reviewed The Cribs‘ second LP, The New Fellas. That worked out rather well for me, since it’s a perfect excuse to talk about my obsessive love of The Cribs. Their debut album (The Cribs) was by far one of the best of 2004 - and I dare you to argue with me. The New Fellas was even better. Most reviews I’ve come across agree with me. And maybe Rolling Stone did too, but I can’t tell.

First, and this makes me irrationally angry, Rolling Stone says that The New Fellas was “released to wide acclaim in England last fall.” No, it wasn’t. It was released on June 20th. And you know where I found that out? The Cribs’ bloody website. The release date is right there for everyone to see, even Rolling Stone writers. This may seem petty, but Rolling Stone is supposed to be the one of the leading music magazines, and they can’t even get this stuff right.

As for the review itself, the writer subtly calls The Cribs hypocrites: “Unlike The Strokes and The Libertines, The Cribs seem to deplore the audience most likely to embrace them. … All of this feels a little cynical and almost dishonest: The Cribs are, after all, pretty goddamn hip themselves.” Leave it to Rolling Stone to be unable to differentiate between being ‘hip’ and just being cool. Like me, The Cribs (if I may speak for them) are sick of the ’scenesters’ and ‘hipsters’. Or, as I like to call them, The Trendies and Beautiful People. These are the people who listen to a band or wear a style because of how it makes them look, not because they actually like these things. We all know them. They infuriate me because it’s so pathetically fake. As the great Holden Caulfield said, these people are Phonies.

The Cribs are definitely not ‘hip’ - has Rolling Stone ever seen them? I’m not sure they even bathe. But they are cool - if not due to their two fantastic albums, then just because they do, wear, and say what they like and don’t care how it makes them look to everyone else.

Just to add to my irritation, Rolling Stone goes on to say: “Sometimes The New Fellas sounds like it was recorded in a tin can at the bottom of the Thames, but the album’s reckless abandon and innumerable hooks ought to appeal to scenesters and squares alike.” Hmm. Is that good or bad? I can’t tell. I sometimes think that reviewers have forgotten that the point of a review is to tell us whether the record is any damn good or not. They’ve become yet another platform for some writer to show how much they know about music history, make some sort of comment on how even a hugely popular artist or band has flaws, and use a song title and/or lyrics as an ironic headline or caption.

Does Rolling Stone even know that The Cribs aren’t actually from London, or was that Thames comment just their way of showing that they’re down with British culture?

I’m sure everybody out there has heard the new Strokes songs that have been floating around out there. (If you haven’t, you can check out “You Only Live Once” over there at Stereogum and “Juicebox” is up on the official Strokes site.) I thought that the emergence of these tracks might be a good reason to finally start this here blog, which has been ready and waiting for me for months, while I figured out what to actually do with it.

I like the new songs. I think they’re fantastic. I am, obviously, a big Strokes fan. I don’t understand why so many people out there have been criticizing “Juicebox”. Well, I actually do understand: people don’t like it because it doesn’t sound like it could’ve been on Is This It. And they do like “You Only Live Once” because it does sound like Is This It, or at least close to it. People seem to have this reaction to new albums (or songs) if they don’t sound just like the one that made them originally fall in love with a band. In a way, it’s a great compliment to the band.

I like it when bands try out something new. I like when they put their guts into it and don’t just take the easy way out. Besides, The Strokes aren’t exactly changing drastically – they still sound like themselves, do they not? It infuriates me that The Strokes have been basically apologizing for their last album in interviews. What is the problem with Room On Fire? Everybody loved it when it first came out. I guess the music on the CD physically changed about two months after its release.

Even the ‘music press’ hates it now. Which brings us to the very first entry (in what I hope will become a recurring feature here at 100b) of How The Music Press Is Crap. Room On Fire became a joke pretty much overnight, though I never did catch on to why. The NME regularly uses it as an example of a disappointing second album. Even Rolling Stone (a publication that lives in fear of actually forming an opinion, lest they should offend anyone, anywhere) has implied that it was a big letdown. Oh, but wait – what’s that? Rolling Stone’s Revised and Updated Album Guide? And they say what about Room On Fire?

From the sounds on Room On Fire, the Strokes have encountered a girl or two in their recent adventures, so it’s a wonder they found time to come up with another album, let alone one this great. … Guitarists Nick Valensi and Albert Hammond, Jr. devise perfect new-wave handclap hooks in “12:51″ and “The End Has No End”, the rhythm section raves in “Reptilia,” and Julian proves he can do Marvin Gaye [in "Automatic Stop"] … (pg. 78 8)

If you read the whole thing, it’s not all adoring, but I’m sure you’ll agree that it’s a pretty positive description of an album. And NME’s original review was positively glowing. Oh, and before you ask: yes, I do understand that sometimes an album seems great but after a while, you realize it’s not quite as good as you thought. Maybe it turns out to be a little corny in ways you hadn’t noticed at first. Maybe you go a few days without listening to it and you’ve already forgotten it. Whatever the reason, sometimes you get wrapped up in an exciting new release only to find that, when the dust settles, the excitement wasn’t really justified.

But I don’t think that’s the case with anything The Strokes have done (so far, at least, and I’m including the two new tracks). I guess people just want them to keep recording Is This It over and over. That is, until it’s time to start complaining that The Strokes don’t ever progress.

Obama 08

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