In a world full of dick jokes, biting commentaries about the weight of maternity figures, and the ever-constant pursuit to “tell it like it is”, some might think that we as Americans suffer from a tiny bit of anti-intellectual pride. This couldn’t be farther from the truth.
We absolutely revel in it. After all, how else could Larry The Cable Guy have a career? After all, he’s hardly an accurate reflection of American life, although due to the risk of a character defamation lawsuit, I’m going to pretend like I didn’t just write that. No, instead, he’s merely a nod to a kinder, gentler era. Back when men were real men, women were seen and not heard, and when the town gathered around promptly after the 5 o’clock mass to stone that new hippy kid in town with the long hair.
How society got to this point, where it was suddenly cool to never read a book outside of class, is a matter of mystery. Could it be our nation’s love of talk shows, which interrupt any guest capable of producing a complex thought, just to reveal that in the case of three year old *insert baby name here*, *insert male’s name here* is/isn’t the father? Could it be the belief that intellectuals are nothing more than a left-wing conspiracy to take over the Ivy Leagues and conquer our country? The world may never know.
What is known, however, is that this is an extreme problem, with rather drastic effects. Our sensationalist media, which this article is indeed a part of, exists because quite frankly, the public is tired of learning. World affairs and politics take a very distant second place to the world of crime, car chases, and the “oh so exciting” adventures into the realm of celebrity affairs. Even the Discovery Channel, a channel dedicated to enriching the minds of all that watch it, would rather focus a majority of their programming on design shows, muscle cars, and motorcycles. They simply couldn’t be allowed to do this if it wasn’t what the public demanded, after all, all cable networks depend on ratings to get by.
Intellectualism is no longer a compliment, it’s an outright insult. It used to be that intellectuals were respected for their massive contributions to society. Now, all it references is an out-of-touch boring brainiac who simply can’t identify with the “common people.” Intellectualism is now used as a major weapon in politics, with the “intellectual left” being completely out of touch with the “down to earth, patriotic right.”
It might just seem like all of this is just petty bickering between two groups who are known to do nothing but, and honestly, it is. It’s lasting impact, however, is far more hurtful to society as a whole. If the current trend of anti-intellectualism continues, not only will the public become more “down-to-earth”(read: stupid), but our nation risks losing its position as a world leader. As a superpower, our country pretty much depends on constant innovations to stay on top. Intellectuals, ironically, produce all all of these innovations. Personally, I’d rather do the patriotic thing, and read a book.
With their seventh album since their debut in 1996, Belle & Sebastian have proven once again that rock music doesn’t have to “rock.” With “The Life Pursuit”, Belle & Sebastian pay homage to some of the soft sides of rock: blues, soul, glam rock, and even a tad of Motown. Although the overall sound of each track varies, each track is connected by Stuart Murdoch’s unique literary approach to songwriting, and are all intertwined within the same story, one of a young girl’s struggle for faith: not only in God, but in music as well.
The album’s highlight track, “Sukie In The Graveyard”
showcases Murdoch’s ability at detailing quirky yet
realistic characters. The song pairs up
this tale of a runaway with pristine guitars, horns, organs, and a melody right
off a 70’s AM radio station. The album
also includes some of the band’s catchiness pop songs to date, including “The
Blues Are Still Blue”, which features a glossy, peppy boogie-ish beat and one
of Murdoch’s catchiest hooks to date.
Strangely enough, “The Life Pursuit” is one of Belle & Sebastian’s hardest and loudest records to date, yet with songs like “To Be Myself Completely”, the listener would never know. The music is calm, and peaceful, it’s sophisticated and ironic, but at the same time, it’s fun. Make no mistake about it; Belle & Sebastian is most definitely a pop band, yet unlike some (read: most) pop acts of today, Belle & Sebastian’s song-crafting is nearly spot on. “We Are The Sleepyheads”, for example, is a song cleverly laced with fancy guitar-work, Biblical references and Sarah Martin’s breathless scat, is quite possibly one of the most pleasurable songs of this year to listen to. Even people who are not fans of Belle & Sebastian’s work may very well find themselves fighting the urge to take long summer drives, run through sunny flowery fields in their bell-bottom pants and do cartwheels in the rain.
The music, admittedly, is simple. Listeners won’t find epic guitar solos, pounding double-bass drums, or complex string arrangements, and in a way, that’s what ends up making the music so beautiful. The song-craftsmanship, like previously stated, is superb. Murdoch’s vocals are calming, and personal, and the lyrics are capable of addressing subjects such as religion or personal events, without being preachy or egotistical.
With “The Life Pursuit” being the band’s most successful release to date (Reaching #8 in the UK Album Chart, and #65 on the Billboard 200 stateside.), Belle & Sebastian have proven their ability to reinvent themselves half-a-dozen albums into their ten-year career. Indeed, the Belle & Sebastian of today has changed from the Belle & Sebastian of 1996, both sonically and in terms of members. Nevertheless, they retain their fans with a cult-like devotion, and luckily for the followers of this cult, the Kool-Aid is never spiked.
When Cerdic Bixler disbanded the post-hardcore act At The Drive-In in 2001 due to his desire to venture into more experimental waters, much doubt was cast upon his latest project, The Mars Volta. However, with Amputechture, the bands third LP, The Mars Volta has shown no intent on retreating with their frantic and distorted tribute to acid rock.
Like their previous releases, Amputechture may overwhelm the casual listeners. With abstracted free form and non-linear lyrics and time signatures that would take a Physics major to understand, Amputechture can quickly blur the line from an enjoyable experience to extreme frustration. The tone is chaotic and schizophrenic, and the shrill high-pitched vocals from Cedric combined with distorted sonic assault from Omar and guest guitarist John Frusciante (Of Red Hot Chili Peppers fame) could easily peel paint off of walls.
Amputechture isn’t for the impatient either, with the average track length clocking in around nine minutes. Although nine minutes may not seem like a long time, the dynamic tempo changes as well as the experimental nature of the music can turn nine minutes into a virtual nine hours.
This isn’t to say that Amputechture is a bad album, however. On the contrary, Amputechture is excellently produced. Although casual listeners may brush off the album based off of their first listen, TMV fans will be pleased to note that the band is still warping the realm of progressive rock in a way that only they know how.
The album opens with Vicarious Atonement, five minutes of ethereal effects and hauntingly piercing guitar work, which serves to build energy going into Tetragrammaton, a 16 minute epic inspired by a bizarre story of a monk strangling a nun who he believed was possessed. The bizarre nature of the inspiration plays out through intense, Latin inspired riffs that would make even Yes jealous.
The album’s standout track, Meccamputechture, also happens to be one of one of the best works the
band has ever composed. , Meccamputechture is the definition of The
Mars Volta’s work. Abstracted lyrics
filled with intense imaginary interweave themselves into a frenzy of distorted
jazz, with Cedric frequently transitioning from almost a spoken-word deliver of
the lyrics to outright wailing.
The entire album is an intricate mixture of different genres and techniques, and requires a few listens before it can truly be enjoyed. Yes, this is an album that requires patience. Fortunately, The Mars Volta has strayed away from their ambient filler used on their previous album, Frances The Mute, and now song progressions are amazingly fast and fluid. Although it may be a bit of a challenge for the casual listener to get into, the payoff is far worth it. Unlike many albums of today, which simply give you a quick 30 minutes for your $15, Amputechture delivers a 70-minute experience that simply cannot be beat.
Earlier this month, Cursive and The Cops played to a jam-packed crowd at The Picador, formerly Gabe’s Oasis, in Iowa City.
The night began like any other concert, with The Cops playing the opening set. Unlike most concerts, however, The Cops seemingly had just as long of a set as the main act, and were enjoyed by the crowd just as much. A throwback to the golden age of punk and with a style akin to The Clash and The Buzzcocks, The Cops played a frantic, energy-infused set, pausing only for the occasional banter or swig of their favorite domestic between power chords.
This isn’t to say that The Cops played a dull show,
however. With riffs that cut like
barbed wire soaked in some acid and other sharp clichés, The Cops waged a
systematic war against their mortal foe:
the dreaded ear drum. Constantly
teetering over the edge of the crowd, guitarist John Randolph dared to be touched, and touched he was. Even with the groping from the crowd,
Randolph never missed a beat. Vocalist
Michael Jaworski spit out his politically driven lyrics with a swagger that
mixed both elements of reggae and punk, while bassist Drew Church never missed
a chance to have a sip of what can only be assumed to be a mildly tasty
alcoholic treat. Drummer Dave Weeks,
well, he drummed. Drummers don’t get
breaks.
Between the set,
awkwardness ensued. Due to the
extremely cramped nature of the Picador, bands had to enter through the crowd,
and naturally, unload through the crowd as well. This led to a rare event where the musicians typically thought to
be untouchable and otherworldly to simply become people, and to actually mingle
with the people that they make music for.
Awkward but sincere dialogue passed through both parties, making the
show seem more of a party than a gig.
Likewise, Cursive, never being ones to be left out, decided to mingle as
well, drinking and smoking with the crowd for which they were about to perform.
And perform they
did. From the opening notes of “Big
Bang”, Cursive’s opening track, as well as a fan favorite from their latest
album Happy Hollow, to the sincere reassurance that “the worst is over” from “A
Gentleman Caller”, the band’s encore finale, the band performed quite possibly
one of the best concerts to ever grace the barren concrete walls of The Picador.
Monitor problems
plagued Cursive during “Bad Sects”, the third song of the set, but no one was
discouraged. Frontman Tim Kasher
persuaded the crowd that “these things happen”, and vowed to just shout even
louder until they were resolved, which they were before the ending of the song.
Cursive’s set covered
an impressive range of the band’s 11 year discography, playing everything from
Tall Tales, Telltales, a concert rarity, the distortion laden Mothership,
Mothership, Do You Read Me?, and A Disruption In Our Lines Of Influence, one of
the first tracks ever recorded by the band. Each track was eagerly sonically
devoured by the rather fanatic fanbase, who seemed to feed off of Tim Kasher’s
sarcastic wit and self-loathing.
Cursive even showed that they can play more than just indie rock, adding
a version of the classic “What Would You Do” by City High into the wall of
sound before the encore’s finale. Yes,
City High, that late 90’s R&B group that let us know the hardships of
having to sleep with a man for a little bit of money.
Cursive’s set was
just as energy-enriched as The Cops before them, playing much attention to the
crowd and rocking their instruments like every musician knows how. The horn section blasted the air in-between
smoke breaks, and both Tim Kasher and Ted Stevens sung along quite merely. Kasher decided to become one with his
subjects, descending into the crowd during the finale, never quite making his
way back on stage. Ted Stevens took a
more nontraditional role in audience interaction, verbally threatening a group
who were attempting to start a mosh pit in not exactly the most appropriate
location.
Cursive wasn’t all
about the music, however. Tim Kasher
took special time to address the subject of Riverfest, and what’s known as a “money
gig.” Apparently, Cursive’s not too big
on them, but they’re big on money, so they manage to find some middle
ground. Kasher also addressed the
rather inane idea of simply “giving up” on music as one gets older and “more
mature.” It was a rather lengthily
tirade, but to sum up, it’s quite okay to stop listening to Cursive, but don’t
listen to Norah Jones. Unless, that is,
someone actually wants to listen to Norah Jones. Then, apparently, it’s cool.
Outside of the actual concert itself, accompanied by the cliché cloud of second-hand cancer and the stench of what one only could hope to be alcohol, things quickly became less than expected. The only section of floor actually lit was all but abandoned before the show, the early patrons feeling far more at home within the dark corners of the cold concrete walls. The pre-concert mix was quite possibly the most bizarre mix ever to grace an indie show, covering everything from the Vietnam-flashback friendly “War”, to Brazilian techno-pop, to the Wu-Tang Clan. Factor in the guy who looked suspiciously like Sisqo, and there’s the makings for a truly memorable concert.
When talking about Rock Island, familiar images come to mind. The imposing Arsenal, a rather drunken District, the Rock Island Line, Blackhawk…but recording studios? Thriving online music zines? It might sound like a rash contradiction to the stereotype commonly applied to Rock Island by the younger generation, but it’s reality nonetheless.
Daytrotter, composed of a rag-tag cartel including Sean Moeller, seasoned writer, Patrick Stolley, the recording engineering wizard of Futureappletree Studio 1, and a multitude of artists and illustrators, first went live in March of 06. The first sessions, consisting of Someone Still Loved You Boris Yeltsin and Catfish, recorded on the 28th of the previous month, proved to be a vision into the future, not only of Daytrotter, but the entire indie music scene.
Daytrotter functions much like any other music website. Articles are written, be it a review, an interview, or the occasional introspective into the career of Justin Timberlake. This is where the similarities end. For example, a quite browse through the archive of indie music knowledge that would make even the most hip art school student green with envy, the reader will quickly find that something is missing: Photographs. A website without photographs is hard enough to imagine by itself, but for a music website, the formula is simply unheard of. However, it works. Instead of photographs, there’s artwork. Original artwork at that. For every article, there lays an unique piece of artwork attached, a headshot without the camera.
“We want to help these incredible artists get as much exposure for their work as we do for bands and their music.” states Sean Moeller, writer and the Mike Morgan of the indie rock scene, “We’ve already seen the effects of some of that and it feels good. We think it’s just great and no one else is doing this.”
As touching as this might be, few people go to music websites simply to check out art. Daytrotter has this wayward browsers handled, however, dishing out indie rock in the fashion of an ol’ fashion soda jerk, albeit with words instead of fancy moves. Daytrotter doesn’t just stick to words, however, that’d be to predictable. Instead, they have a rabbit up their sleeve, an ace in the hole, a cliché in a bad pun. They have the Daytrotter session.
The idea is simple, at least relatively speaking. Bands travel through Rock Island on their journey from Des Moines to Chicago, so why not have them stop by for some food, a drink, and an exclusive four track recording session. The idea apparently works, with bands such as Two Gallants, Harry And The Potters, Of Montreal, and The Subjects have taken trips by the studio, recording some tracks before they depart onto greener (or in Chicago’s case: grayer and far more polluted) pastures.
“Without them, we’re just another nitwit online music website.” says Sean, “Don’t get me wrong, I think the writing we’re trying to do here is okay and the artwork we’re connecting to all of our pieces is tremendous, but it’s the sessions, the freezing of tours and moments in ember, that is essentially what we do.”
And apparently, what Daytrotter does is being appreciated. Along with the countless hits generated by the website, and the ridiculous amount of namedropping within the realm of blogging, Daytrotter is starting to attract major attention. Between appearing in Wired Magazine, and talks of Sundance invites, things are looking good for the future. Any surprises, however, will remain surprises.
“We’ve got a couple really big surprises, but we can’t share those.” says Sean, “Then they wouldn’t be surprises. We’ll just say that if and when they happen, it could be six months, it could be a year or two, a lot of local people will love us and maybe, finally know we exist.”
Needless to say, Daytrotter is stirring things up in both the worlds of indie music, and music journalism. However, many want to know, will it put Rock Island on the music map?
“People know Rock Island exists. That’s just a myth. You’d be absolutely shocked at how many bands have always wondered what goes on here. They’re driven through here a dozen times, but just never had a reason to stop in. We’ve given them a reason to pay a visit. It’s not hard to bring them in. We ask. That’s the simple truth.” says Sean.
Concerning the local music scene, is a different story.
“Without a club or bar truly willing to continually bring in quality indie rock bands, there’s nothing we can do to help anything.” says Sean, “But on the other hand, when clubs do bring in great indie bands to the area, all the kids who sit around complaining that no great bands ever come here need to show more support. Over the past year, I’ve gone to see Oakley Hall (at River Music Experience), Horns of Happiness (At RIBCO), and Hockey Night (also at RIBCO), and seen a grand total of like 40 people at those shows. It’s embarrassing and there’s a very obvious reason that bands don’t stop and play shows here. It’s not because they don’t want to, bands will play anywhere where there are people (Just as Grinnell College, they do amazing free shows on that campus, in a junk town with superb bands).”
Teenage apathy is no rare problem, however, a solution does lay within reach.
“No one should complain that the music scene is stagnant here. Everyone needs to take some damned responsibility for that. Go see the cool indie bands play when they infrequently do come to town. Send a message to club owners that you'll pay to see bands like that. Daytrotter is proof that they're willing to come here.”
If you turn on any news channel for any length of time, the odds are fairly good that you’ll stumble upon a rant about illegal immigration. The political equivalent of Paris Hilton’s sex life, illegal immigration is always good for a quick story, even though each time they’re all merely the same thing. Besides, by being passionately against illegal immigration, a person can easily seem like a true patriotic American, and certainly, a flag-waving God-fearing American Joe is worth your time to listen to.
Sadly, in this search for easy ratings, a far seedier undertone emerges. This undertone is, of course, xenophobia. For the sake of clarification, “xenophobia” is a term for the fear of strangers, most frequently associated as a fear of foreigners. Xenophobia has grown from more than a simple fear, however, now it’s a virtual plague. We subconsciously associate foreigners, or people who appear foreign, with danger. For example, the common stereotype of a terrorist happens to be that of a Muslim extremist, which came into popularity after 9/11. However, this stereotype ignores a very important subject, the Oklahoma City Bombing. This event is widely considered as the deadliest domestic terrorist act in the United States history, and was carried out by two white gentlemen. The Centennial Olympic Park bombing was carried out by a white male. During Columbine, two white teenagers brutally massacred their own classmates. The terror set forth by these attacks cannot be denied, however, none of these individuals affected the perceived stereotype of a terrorist. Most likely, they never will, because we as human beings find it far easier to fear the unknown than it is to fear ourselves.
This xenophobia almost always leads to blatant lies, much like it does in the case of illegal immigration. Illegal immigrants are frequently attributed with a rise in the crime rate, the failure of schools, and are generally accused of leeching off of our countries welfare while not paying taxes. It sounds devastating, it sounds like these illegal immigrants are the perfect scapegoat. However, it’s simply incorrect. Ironically, it’s the fact that these illegal immigrants are not citizens, which ultimately proves these arguments incorrect. Because they have no documentation, illegal immigrants are completely ineligible for any form of government welfare. What they’re not ineligible for however is paying taxes. The basic tax structure of our country secures tax dollars from these immigrants through the means of sales tax, and property tax, which affects homeowners and renters a like. The Social Security Administration estimates that illegal immigrants contribute upwards to seven million dollars into social security yet are completely ineligible to claim that money for themselves. Likewise, there’s been no link between illegal immigration and a rising crime rate, in fact, quite the opposite. Studies on these immigrants have shown that they are 45 percent less likely to commit violent crimes than third-generation, or “naturalized” citizens, a finding previously stated in the New York Post.
We do have a serious problem in our country, but illegal immigration simply isn’t it. We as a nation have become so lazy that we would rather judge a person based on their color or their nationality than by who they truly are. Unfortunately, there is no clear solution to this problem, simply because it’s an opinion. Because it’s opinion, it’s morality or relevance has no basis with it’s existence and therefore, it will continue unchanged, as most opinions do. However, opinions can never change the fact that illegal immigrants are still people, and although they may not have rights has US citizens, they have rights as human beings. These people aren’t moving into our country simply because we’ve produced the likes of Tom Cruise and Angelina Jolie, they come because they have a family to feed. As the saying goes, if a man steals a loaf of bread to feed his family, is he still a crook? Personally, I’d like to think that he’s not. We as a society have become so divided as a race that we recognize such trivial things as imaginary lines as iron curtains, and quite frankly, that needs to change.
Juarez Editorial
Kidnapping, rape, and murder. It's safe to say that no rational person takes any pleasure from hearing these words, but in Ciudad Juarez, those words seem to be muttered on a daily basis. Juarez, a border town in the Mexican state of Chihuahua, is the fifth largest city in Mexico, but unknown for that by most. Instead, Juarez owes much of its reputation to narcotics trafficking, and the several hundreds of unsolved murders that have taken place since 1993. The victims of these murders all share similar traits: all of them are poor, most of them work in assembly plants called “maquiladoras”, and all of them are women.
According to news reports, These maquiladoras are owned by some of the world’s wealthiest corporations: General Electric, Alcoa, DuPont, and over 80% of these factories are owned by US companies. These factories are staffed in majority by poor women, who are thereby subject to unchecked sexual harassment, poor wages, and poor working conditions. Women who show up late for work by as little as three minutes end up being turned away and refused entry, after spending all morning on a bus to get them from the edge of town. Normally, situations like this are already viewed as serious civil right issues, but when you toss in the fact that women are sometimes being kidnapped, beaten, raped, and murdered on their way to or from these factories, you end up with one of the worst civil right issues in all of Latin America. Yet, we as Americans continue to support these companies, despite this well-known practice of reducing working conditions in order to gain a bigger profit. The American consumer should be expressing outrage at the exploitation and lack of care about these workers, yet we keep our mouths shut in hopes for a cheaper product..
It’s definitely safe to assume that when a company’s workforce is dying, that the company would create policies in which to protect them. After all, it’s rather hard to exploit cheap labor when there are no people to victimize. Yet, in Juarez, these factories still turn away their employees when they show up late, and they still let them off late at night without even the hints of a security force to protect them. With a steady supply of drifters and the poor, these companies can just simply choose not to act. As a result, many women have left work only to suffer a fate that has become all too familiar in the city of Juarez.
In the 13 years since the first official murder in this case, little has been done by the Mexican authorities to stop the killing. Although 51 suspects have been jailed since 1993, there has been little to no impact on the rate of these murders. Young women still end up being found dead in some lonely stretch of the desert, and police officers still arrive at the scene to have the bodies shipped off.
Unfortunately, some of the problems in Juarez may be the police themselves. The drug trade runs rampant through Juarez, and investigators from the United Nations, Amnesty International, the Inter-American Human Rights Commission and other groups have told many tales of police complicity and outright corruption. Eight former police officers were previously arrested as suspects in the murders, but all were either released, or escaped. Allegations have been made that due to the sheer number of unsolved murders, police officers have tortured suspects into confession in attempts to comfort the locals. Of course, the police take no records of this, so the allegations are merely that.
It’s startling to discover that just across the border so many horrible things can be happening in just one town. Through the immense public and international pressure, more effort has been put into finding justice for these slain women, but women in Juarez still go missing on a daily basis in this border town. Perhaps the biggest question is, why do these American-owned factories still believe that there isn’t a problem?
When Seinfield broke into the television market in 1989, Michael Richard’s portrayal of the lovable, yet ultimately quirky character of Cosmo Kramer proved to be a smash success. And how could it not? With his hip vintage dudes, his inane phobias, and his half-baked schemes, and his wild beliefs, Kramer seemed to be a beacon of hope and joy to the millions who watched them on their televisions sets. When the series was finally ended in 2000, Richards faded into relative obscurity. Several attempts were made to bring him back to life on the television market, but like most actors who have had the unfortunate fate of being typecasted, none of these seemed to work. Flash forward into the present age, and Michael Richards is once again barging through the door of the metaphorical apartment of the spotlight, however for less than pleasant reasons.
As has been broadcasted all over the internet and any media network suffering from a slow news-day, Michael Richards was involved in an “incident” at the Laugh Factory in early November. To call this an incident only makes this event seem more tragic, as if Michael Richards committed career homicide in some seedy West Hollywood hotel that reeked of mothballs and cheap liquor. But as pretty and interesting as that might sound, it’s just not what happened. Richards was being heckled by two audience members, and in seemingly a comic tradition, he snapped, spewing a racially charged rant against the two audience members.
Apparently, this is a rare event, and one that only effects the famous comedian with buckets full of cash. At least, that’s what’s commonly reported. The media was quick to report that Richards used the language that’s more at home in a 50-Cent song, and also quick to add it at that. Not very much attention was given to the two hecklers, nor their insults or racial slurs spewed at Richards himself.
I’m well aware that the following statement will not make many people happy, but, I can live with that. For hecklers to believe that a comedian will not strive to offend them is simply moronic. It’s to be expected. Bill Hicks, the legendary but often forgotten comic, delivered quite possibly the most misogynic rant against hecklers who attempted to disrupt his act. Richard Pyror and George Carlin were famous for being harsh on their hecklers. Rodney Dangerfield would take cheap shots at a heckler’s family, and Dane Cook openly called out a heckler during the recording of his Retaliation album. These things are to be expected. Comedians aim to offend, after all, it is their job.
To make matters worse, the two hecklers outright refused Michael Richard’s apology, claiming it to be simply a career move, yet oddly refused a trip backstage for a personal apology from Richards, away from the camera’s eye, after the outburst was over. Instead, the hecklers would rather sue, demanding compensation from Richards. They’ve even got themselves a lawyer, Gloria Allred. For those of you unfamiliar with her work, Allred is the lawyer who pressed suit against the Boy Scouts Of America for not letting girls be scout members. If this isn’t a blatant attempt for a quick fifteen minutes of fame, there’s a good chance O.J Simpson might actually still be out there trying to find the real killer.
I’m not trying to justify racism in any way. To put it simply, racism just “isn’t cool.” However, neither is exploiting celebrities simply because they have money. Nor is it “cool” to step into the lion’s den, pelting the lion with jagged rocks and the occasional wiffle ball, and expect not to get maimed. Should this suit ever pass, which constitutionally it has absolutely no merit, the only thing it will prove is that the American public is far too sue-happy. It’s entire “McDonald’s Coffee vs Common Sense” case, and it’s just ridiculous. If you need the money that badly, just save yourself the effort and the lawyers fees, and get a part time job. You could even sell some of your own junk on Ebay, but please, let’s keep our justice system open for things that matter.
With Justin Timberlake bringing sexy back, and Nick Lachey attempting to fill the void in his life with hordes of screaming preteen girls, a lot has happened in the music world during 2006. Like the previous examples, however, not all of it has been good. The legendary “riot grrl” act Sleater-Kinnley is no more, Weezer has taken yet another hiatus, and somehow the Rolling Stones are still kicking.
2006 wasn’t all bad news, however. The Smashing Pumpkins reformed (Or so they say), the now-legendary summer music resort known as Lollapalooza has it's home in Chicago’s Grant Park (At least to 2011), and a sonic Smorgasbord of new albums. With so many albums coming out, however, how can a music listener find the album that’s just right for them? Well, there’s two schools of thought on this matter: a listener can ask their friends for recommendations, or they can take the advice of a complete stranger.
For those of you who see the value in the latter of these two options, you’re in luck. The following is a list of albums of a variety of genres, tones, and moods that all stick out in their own special way, recommended by a complete stranger, aka myself. For those of you who do know me, and wish to retain this edge, just imagine me as someone else. It might not be the same, but it’s a close second.
Sufjan Stevens - The Avalanche:
Outtakes and extras from Sufjan’s tribute to the state of Illinois.. Illinois was originally going to be a double album, but that didn't take so well. Avalanche is what remains of that "epic" attempt to transcribe the awesomeness that is the state of Illinois. The track "No Man's Land" was featured in the movie Little Miss Sunshine, which if you didn't catch in theaters, I must question your humanity. Also out from Sufjan this year is Songs For Christmas, a five disc set of...well, Christmas music. A mixture of traditional classics, this set is five years in the making, each disc being given to friends of Sufjan, but never officially released. For those of you unfamiliar with Sufjan Stevens, Sufjan combines instrumentally rich songs with lyrics brilliantly focused and filled with metaphors of faith and family, with the occasional obscure cultural reference tossed in for kicks. Sufjan blends indie rock with folk music, tinkers with the formula, creating works that are often times quirky, but always marvelous.
The Mars Volta - Amputecture:
The latest work from the band fighting to bring progressive rock back to the masses. With the help of Red Hot Chili Pepper's John Frusciante, Amputecture overflows with latin inspired rhythms and guitar riffs that will make Yes sound like a bad Micheal Bolton cover band. Unlike their previous two albums, there is no underlying narrative, and although the songs do carry a similar lyrical theme, the overall impact of songs comes not from the lyrics, but instead the dynamic and rapidly changing tones of the music. A favorite topic of Cedric, the them of amputation works it's way into yet another album, but instead of lyrically, this theme is expressed through sound. The songs all feel as if they were cut before their final ending, leaving them just pieces of a puzzle of what might have been. The band has evolved a great deal from their days as At The Drive-In (Which split earlier this decade to form both The Mars Volta and Sparta)
Regina Spektor - Begin to Hope:
Quite possibly the most "normal" album from the quirky former-Russian and most-accessible artist of the New York anti-Folk scene. To call her music eccentric would be an understatement, cutting from the poppy "Fidelity", a touching ode to the late Billy Holliday with “Lady”, to a rather quirky ode to cleavage in the guise of the lovesong that is "Summer In The City". The album itself sounds expensive, with a production quality is simply unmatched by any other Regina's work. However, this is almost a bad thing. Regina's earlier work, such as Soviet Kitsch and 11:11, produce a raw song that embodies the environment her songs create, the albums sound as if they were recorded in some smokey bar, or a friend's basement. With Begin To Hope, this feeling is lost, making the album far more accessible, but at the risk of losing a bit of an artistic edge.
The Decemberists – The Crane Wife:
Inspired by an old Japanese tale, the quirky and over-literate five piece band from Portland, Oregon returns to the stage, bring along with them their expected lush narratives and accordions, as well as a few tricks up their frilly sleeves. The liars, thieves, lovers, and baby butchers return in full force, but they bring with them unexpected genre changes. In addition to the folk rock the Decemberists are known for, they branch out into multiple styles. “The Perfect Crime’ produces a rich blues tone, “When The War Came” takes almost a Led Zeppelin-eqsue vibe, and “The Island” actually enters the world of progressive rock. Colin Meloy, singer and songwriter, skillfully blends love and war, mixing in gunpowder and the entire Civil War era, and creates an album that feels refreshingly both new and vintage.
Cursive – Happy Hollow:
Between side projects, the departure of cellist Gretta Cohn, and copious amounts of alcohol and Plato readings, how Cursive managed to put together an album is simply the subject of myth. Ditching the domestic peril and angst normally associated with the band, vocalist and songwriter Tim Kasher decided to instead develop a narrative for the fictional town of Happy Hollow, a fictional small town in America’s heartland. Never one to stick to conventional topics, Kasher instead mixes in both the mundane life of the suburbs with the affairs of priests and teenage girls, priests and their alter boys, the existence of God, and the loss of faith. For some reason, a five piece horn section was also added to the band, a concept almost as inane as when Cyprus Hill stole an orchestra from Peter Frampton in an episode of the Simpsons. However, this off the wall idea actually works, the horns beautifully filling the void of the loss of Cursive’s trademark strings.
Unfortunately, there simply isn’t enough space to summarize all of the great albums of 2006, nor is there enough space to even list them. However, here’s a small section of the honorable mentions that although they didn’t make the cut, still provide a great listen:
The Erasure (Thom Yorke), The Devil And God Are Raging Inside Me (Brand New), At War With The Mystics (The Flaming Lips), Young Machetes (The Blood Brothers), Let’s Get Out Of This Country (Camera Obscura), Catastrophe Keeps Us Together (Rainer Maria), Trans Canada Highway (Boards Of Canada), The Life Pursuit (Belle & Sebastian), You In Reverse (Built To Spill)
PETA editorial
In this war-torn and outright frightening world, it’s nice to know that there’s a group out there looking out for the little guy. But just who is the little guy? Are they the poor, maybe, or perhaps the crippled? Maybe they’re some war-torn villagers in some country who doesn’t even have a face in the “civilized” politics of the world. According to People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA), it’s none of the above. People don’t matter. Now, I know some of you out there might be saying to yourself, “Hey now, that’s a bit harsh. How could you even get that asinine idea in your head?” Well, it was quite simple, really. I actually decided to do some research.
My interest in PETA, admittedly, is a new one. PETA first caught my eye in 2003, after a failed bombing attack in Jerusalem. Unfortunately, bombings are not a rare occurrence in the Middle East, but this one was different: They used a donkey, who was the only casualty. It’s after this that PETA came into my eyes, with the following statement from PETA President Ingrid Newkirk: she requested to Yassar Arafat that he “appeal to all those who listen to [him] to leave the animals out of this conflict.” When later questioned by the Washington Post, she explained that it simply wasn’t her business to interject herself into “human wars.” As both a pacifist and an animal rights supporter, this statement confused me. The whole situation just seemed a tad bit odd. You’d think that, as an organization (albeit a non-profit one), that PETA would have displayed a tad bit more tact. However, I soon quickly found out that this wasn’t the first instance were PETA’s practices have been questionable at best, and it was far from being the last.
Through my research, I found that the same three principals came up over and over again: propaganda, deceit, and sexism. That last one might come as a shock to some readers, but I assure you, it’s not without base. PETA is well known for using nudity, particularly female nudity, in order to spread their message. Memorable campaigns like “I’d Rather Go Naked Than Wear Fur” and “Milk Gone Wild” (Which displays a group of young college girls taking off their tops to reveal udders where their breasts would be. Maybe that bovine growth hormone is a bad thing after all.” revolve entirely around the aspect of nudity and sexual imagery. PETA also frequently uses Playboy models and scantily clad women in its campaigns. Not only does this distract from the seriousness of the animal rights issue, but also it fails to do its job to educate the public as to why they should support PETA’s message. Maybe PETA just doesn’t care about the exploitation of people either.
On the subject of exploitation, it’s notable just how much of PETA’s marketing targets young children, especially girls. For example, PETA distributed trading cards to schoolchildren, with such educational messages as “Sue's milk-drinking led to her battle with zits.” and that dairy products contribute to obesity, belching, and yes, even flatulence. PETA has also been accused of targeting towards the overweight, and people with eating disorders, claiming that vegan and vegetarian diets lead to weight loss, without informing their converts of the dangers of excluding meat and dairy in the typical Western diet without additional supplements. Maybe PETA just doesn’t care about human welfare. In a way, that would be why PETA so passionately opposes animal testing, even going as far to financially support convicted “eco-terrorists”, such as Rodney Coronado, a member of the Animal Liberation Front who was convicted of the firebombing of a research facility at Michigan State University, causing $125,000 in damages and destroying 32 years worth of research data. PETA gave $45,200 to his legal defense, and even more to his father. Apparently, the lives of millions of human beings who owe their lives to medical research (including one of PETA’s own Vice President, Mary Beth Sweetland, who as a Type A diabetic relies on insulin injections, originally tested on and made from animals) just isn’t worth the loss of a few monkeys, or pigs.
So, PETA might have some controversial viewpoints, but at least they concern themselves with animal welfare, right? In the end, isn’t that the sole purpose of PETA? Again, you’d be surprised. As PETA is a tax-exempt organization, their tax returns are on public record. This, coupled with personal statements that PETA spends $240,000 “in a few years” on animal welfare. When coupled with PETA’s $29 million budget, and a simple math equation, PETA spends less than 1% of their total budget on animal welfare. Where does the rest of the money go? Outside from other financial links to known eco-terrorist organizations and criminals (such as $7,500 to Fran Stephanie Trutt, who in 1988 attempted to bomb the president of a medical company), there’s another rather oxymoronic source to drain the money into. As an animal rights organization, naturally PETA takes in a large amount of animals, for which they claim they’ll find proper homes for. Unfortunately, these homes exist on another plane entirely, as in the year 2004 alone; PETA killed 86.3% of the animals brought into their care. Norfolk SPCA shelter, an animal shelter roughly three miles from PETA headquarters, killed less than 5%. Yes, that’s right, an organization seemly dedicated to animal rights and welfare ended up killing more than 17 times the amount of animals than the nearest animal shelter. Kind of ironic, isn’t it?
The sad part is, PETA continues to hide these facts. It outright deceives animal loving pet owners who donate their hard earn money for a “good cause”, which ironically would result in the loss of pets, as PETA’s main goal, apparently, is that of total animal liberation. No zoos, no pets, no animal research, not even seeing aide dogs for the blind. In this “utopia”, animals would be free to roam and do whatever they please, be it cows grazing on grass or bears grazing on faces. There would be no new cures; there would be no miracle drug to cure the AIDS epidemic. And eventually, once we’ve all died either of malnourishment or disease, there wouldn’t be anything, that is, expect for the poor, poor animals.
With local acts like The Ballet, Killer Bear, and Lazer Mountain, the Quad Cities is home to enough talented musicians to fill the weekend of any local music fan. Likewise, acts like Godsmack, Trans Siberian Orchestra, and The Blue Man Group will up The Mark on a regular basis. However, many music fans long for something more: a middle ground.
The Quad Cities and live music go quite a long ways back. Davenport birthed Bix Beiderbecke, one of the most famous jazz cornet players. Likewise, Rock Island gave birth to Greg Norton, bassist of the now legendary punk band, Husker Du. In the 70’s and 80’s, there wasn’t a single weekend that wasn’t booked solid, full of a variety of acts. With the 90’s came silence, and the music died.
Along with the silence, the 90’s brought in something else: The MARK. When The MARK entered the scene in 1993, there was a general feeling of hope for the music of the Quad Cities, and rightfully so. Since its creation, the venue has housed such legendary acts as Rush, Frank Sinatra, and Elton John. The MARK also allowed for immensely popular acts, such as Nine Inch Nails and Green Day, to bring in the huge crowds in which the MARK was designed for.
The MARK’s size inevitably proved to be its major pitfall. With a total capacity of roughly 12 thousand concertgoers, the venue could only be used for acts capable of generating large numbers of fans. Although the profitable acts had no problems bringing in the fans (And therefore the MARK had no problem letting them), music fans suffered. Although the local bands flourished, the clubs of the 70’s and 80’s were no more, and there was simply no place for the middle ground. Acts like Regina Spektor, The Appleseed Cast and Cursive, who frequently play at venues as close as Iowa City, seemingly have no place in the Quad Cities music market.
“I don’t go to a lot of concerts, but it’s not like I don’t want to.” said Michael Roach, a first year student at Black Hawk College. “It’s just the only bands we get around here are just wash ups who haven’t had more than one original member since ’89.”
The demand for this middle ground is certainly being heard, but as to date, there aren’t being any steps taken to achieve it.
“It’d be nice if we could get a smaller venue or two.” said Cayte Honold, another first year student at BHC. “Not like, real small, but something that could hold a couple thousand. Iowa City’s not that far away for shows, but it starts to get pretty costly. It takes extra time too, and I don’t always have that.”
