The Big Green House

Saturday, September 28, 2002

 
Ooogh.

I forgot a very important point last night; drinking is a lot like running. Unless you stay in training, you're not going to be able to just pick up & run a marathon. I used to drink like a fish, provided that fish consume
large amounts of alcohol. Has anyone actually studied this? Boy, I smell a doctorate in this for somebody. "A Comparative Analysis of the Alcohol Comsumption Rate Among North American Freshwater vs Saltwater Fish" That's just a suggested title, of course; you'd probably want to throw a little Latin in there to spice it up a bit. Whip up a couple of charts, maybe even do a little research, and you'll be hanging out your Ph.D. in no time. Just don't forget your ol' pal B when you start raking in that graduate degree money, OK?

Um, did I have a point in there somewhere?

Oh, drinking, right. Yeah. Stay in practice, kids, and always warm up before any strenuous activity.

Anyway, before I became Drinky Drink the Drunk Boy last night, I'd spent the afternoon with a pickaxe in my hand, tearing up my friend's backyard. It was actually kinda fun, in a perverse sort of way. I work at a desk these days, but it has not always been so. It was nice to do some physical labor again; there's tangible evidence that you've done something at the end of the job.

Today I've had a small adventure in amateur plumbing - I changed the washer in the kitchen sink. Nothing a reasonably bright 8-year-old couldn't have pulled off, yet I find myself filled with an absurd sense of acomplishment, out of all proportion to reality. Again, I think it's due to having something to show for the effort. I don't often get that in my line of work, so I get it where I can.


bmarkey 9/28/2002 03:52:00 PM

Friday, September 27, 2002

 
It�s a rare evening off for me, so I�m here with Lucy in The Big Green House. We�re currently in the conservatory, relaxing. I�m wearing a thrift-store T-shirt from the Delta Blues Museum in Clarksdale, MS. I hope to visit there one day myself, as I have never been to the South at all. (Southern California doesn�t count, especially if you grew up in Northern California.)

Lucy is on the couch, alternating between sleeping and checking to make sure that I�m not eating anything while she�s unconscious. I�m sitting at the desk, cocktail quietly fizzing to my immediate left. Tonight I�m enjoying a brandy and ginger ale. Gag not, for it is not nearly as horrible as it may at first seem. I first heard of the brandy & ginger while I was teaching myself to drink. I had been reading Full Moon: The Amazing Rock & Roll Life of Keith Moon, late of The Who, late of The Earth (Now apparently out of print), which is essentially a collection of Moon anecdotes by his minder. It turns out that Keith was rather fond of a drink now and then, and that one of his favorite beverages was the aforementioned brandy & ginger ale. Well, I thought, if it was good enough for a pro like Mr. Moon, surely it�s good enough for the likes of me.

I baffled many a bartender with this drink, early in my career. It seems that most bars don�t actually stock ginger ale; many�s the night I ended up with a glass of brandy, 7Up, and Coke. Almost it, but not quite; it lacks the requisite bite of a good ginger ale. I was young, callow and thirsty, so I didn�t raise too much of a stink. At home, of course, I could whip up the real thing, and did so regularly.

I haven�t had a brandy & ginger in, oh, 19 or 20 years. I decided to indulge myself tonight. They�re not bad, especially after the second, but they�re not quite as good as I remember. Truly, it seems that you can�t go home again.

On the stereo as I type is The Real Kansas City of the 20�s, 30�s and 40�s, a delightful collection of Midwestern jazz from ragtime through the Basie era. If you like this sort of thing, as I do, it�s worth seeking out.

The only thing missing from the picture is Science Girl. Alas, she had to work tonight, and won�t be home until after 1 AM, more than likely. Her picture beams down beatifically at me from the wall. I guess I�d better slow down of the refreshments if I�m going to meet her at the bus stop.
bmarkey 9/27/2002 11:48:00 PM

Thursday, September 26, 2002

 

Not Guilty. Guilty.

I�ve been thinking about the concept of the �guilty pleasure� - you know, the things that you�re not �supposed� to like, but you do anyway. When I was in my teens & twenties, I was quite dogmatic about music. There was Good and Bad, and what I liked was Good. Period. I was really pretty insufferable about it. As I get older, I find I can�t really be bothered with such distinctions these days. Now there�s music I like, music I don�t like, and music I haven�t heard yet. Have I matured or just gone soft? I dunno. I do know that I�d rather spend my time trying to turn someone on to �good� music than to beat them over the head about why the music they listen to is �bad�.

The thing I don�t get is this: if a tune truly pleases me, why should I feel guilty about it? For example: I�m not supposed to like Def Leppard for any number of reasons, but chiefly because they�re Def Leppard. Correct Rock & Roll Dogma states that one must dismiss hair metal out of hand. Well tough darts, kids � I kinda like some of their stuff. I�m not saying that they�re great, by any stretch of the imagination, because they�re not. It ain�t art, but if you take it for what it is � bubblegum metal � it�s fine. It�s not meant to challenge your ideas about rock & roll or art or anything else. No shame there. As far as I can see, it�s like eating ice cream - making a steady diet of it would not be a good idea, but a little here & there is enjoyable and will surely not kill you.

Science Girl disagrees vehemently with me on this point, but I believe that there is room at the table for crappy 80�s metal, as long as it�s well-crafted. I will grant that, say, X is a much much better band. But, if I may continue the food metaphor - I like both broccoli and ice cream. I know that one is good for me and one isn�t, so I like them in different ways and for different reasons. Why can�t I do the same with X and Def Leppard? Why does one necessarily exclude the other?

But then there�s the other kind of guilty pleasure: good music made by bad people. Take Guns & Roses. (Actually a doubly guilty pleasure; see quotation from Correct R&R Dogma above.) Axl Rose is an obnoxious, misogynistic, racist, homophobic goon who really needs to stay current with his meds*, yet �Sweet Child O� Mine� remains, in my opinion, a really good song. Not great, but good.

So the question is, can one separate the art from the artist? Can I say, �Axl is an asshole, but I really dig some of the work he�s done?� Or am I complicit in his, um, assholery if I buy the Appetite For Destruction CD? I�ve gone back & forth on this, but the more I think about it, the more I think it�s hypocritical of me to support someone who brings more hate into an already hateful world. I don�t lose a lot of sleep over this, but it does bother me. On the one hand, I don�t feel the need to apologize for my taste. On the other hand� I kinda do, sometimes.

*I�m told that one could say much the same about Eminem. Since I�ve had limited exposure to his music (versus what I�ve read about him), it�s best to leave him out of the discussion. We end up with an all eighties argument this way, but it�s only fair.

bmarkey 9/26/2002 05:13:00 PM

Wednesday, September 25, 2002

 

High Fidelity

I like Nick Hornby. Well, I�ve never actually met him, but I certainly like his work. High Fidelity is one of my favorite novels (hmmm... a book about an aging music obsessive. I wonder why I liked it?); I enjoyed Fever Pitch nearly as much, being a recovering baseball fanatic myself. And, while I didn�t actually identify with anyone in About A Boy (for a change), I still liked it. I haven�t gotten around to the new one yet, but I�m sure I will at some point. Hornby�s got a knack for getting some very basic elements of the male psyche down on paper in a way that rings truer, for me anyway, than any other writer I�ve come across. In interviews he seems a down to earth guy, intelligent and grounded. You wouldn�t mind having a beer with him, which in my book is high praise indeed.

However, I have a bone to pick with Mr. Nick.

In High Fidelity, Rob uses the making of mix tapes as an element in... not seduction, exactly, but courtship, if I may use a term as Victorian as that. Tapes made for women always have impure thoughts attached to them; they are a way of expressing interest, a method of saying things which, if said outright to a potential lover, would probably result in a drink poured over the head. The offer of a mix tape is how Rob meets his long-term girlfriend Laura, who later finds out that he may be interested in someone else when he starts making her a tape.

As a man with A) a fianc�e, and B) mostly female friends, all of whom have either read the book, seen the movie, or both, this can put me in a very awkward position if I offer to make someone a tape. Hornby has planted the idea of ulterior motives in everybody�s heads. I have to wonder if things are being read into what should be a very innocent offer. It�s almost to the point where I feel vaguely sleazy making a tape for a woman other than Science Girl, since I�m the type of guy who feels guilty even when he�s done nothing to warrant it. While I certainly have made tapes for women I was interested in, I�ve made many more for women who were friends and only friends.

While I�m at it, Rob also espouses some bullshit rules about taping. I�m writing from memory so I don�t recall all of them, but �You can�t put black artists next to white artists unless the white artists sound black� is the one that really sticks in my craw. Aside from �No repeating the same artist on a tape�, the only real rule is �Does song A sound good next to song B?� There has to be a flow to things. (Of course, you can put two pieces that jar together on you tape; it�s a very good effect sometimes, keeping the listener on their toes. But an entire tape of that would be exhausting.) Just make a tape that you would want to hear yourself � keep your audience in mind, but not to the point where your personality gets leached out of the mix.

These things are supposed to be fun. Imposing rules on the process makes it too much like work. And don�t forget, a tape is just a tape.

bmarkey 9/25/2002 05:02:00 PM

Monday, September 23, 2002

 

Adventures in Solipsisim

Hey! I just noticed that, as of yesterday, my little bloggy is two months old. Wow. Doesn�t really mean anything, of course; nothing here does. And we�re proud of it! Still, it�s nice to have an outlet like this. In the olden days, before the inter-web-thing, I could only annoy friends and loved ones with my pet theories, enthusiastic support for dubious bands, and unpalatable recipes. Now, complete and utter strangers from around the planet can marvel at the drivel streaming forth from my fingertips and out into the world. How cool is that?

Some of you even come back for seconds, for which I�m very grateful. I don�t get a lot of hits over the course of a day, but there does seem to be a small core of regulars � why, I couldn�t say, but it�s nice to know that you�re out there.

Many of you� well, OK, almost all of you found your way here through Cockeyed Absurdist. (In fact, one day last week saw all traffic on The Big Green House either coming through Jon�s list o�links or from the Man himself.) One of the other amazing things about the inter-web-thing is making the acquaintance of folks like Jon & Cowboy Sally, people who I more than likely would never have run into, them being east-coast types & all.

Hmmm� I seem to be getting all meta here. Perhaps I ate some bad fish or something. It�ll pass.

bmarkey 9/23/2002 07:45:00 PM

 

�If I can't dance I don't want to be in your revolution�

Another salvo in the Revolution For Fun has been fired. This one comes to us courtesy of Jake over at Glorious Noise. In addition to the severe lack of Fun in pop music, the indie scene has gotten a bit dry as well. You know what I�m talking about: overly-earnest young men and women singing to you of their personal difficulties over whatever flavor of clangor is cool this month, while uber-hipsters stand cross-armed and stare at the stage instead of shaking their asses as god intended. Are indie kids finally getting it? Click here to see the conversation which began last week on the GloNo bulletin board. Not sure what I�m talking about? (And really, why should you be any different than me in that respect?) Go back to last week in the archives & check out Ever Get the Feeling You�ve Been Cheated? and Hey, Ho, Let�s Go to get up to speed on what�s going on (I hope).

bmarkey 9/23/2002 05:00:00 PM

Friday, September 20, 2002

 
Hi-
Sorry for the lapse there. Like I said before, things may be erratic from time to time. There may be an occasional silence. Just pretend I�m John Cage performing 4�33�. (He�s still dead, isn�t he? I mean, he�s not some sort of avant-garde zombie shambling from concert hall to concert hall, scaring the pee out of wealthy dowagers and raising the price of dry-cleaning wherever he sets his rotting foot, right? Because that would be really disturbing. I�d hate to be a party to something like that.)

Hey, look! The comments are back! Should we start a pool on when they'll go out again?

bmarkey 9/20/2002 04:29:00 PM

Wednesday, September 18, 2002

 

The wheels on the bus go round and round

Many people ask me, �B, why don�t you drive a car?� I�ll tell you; it�s so I don�t miss out on the rich panoply of life available to the public transit user. Like what? Well, like the surly driver who had apparently slammed his tiny dick in the toilet seat this morning & was driving like he needed serious medical attention, but pronto. Or the passenger who sat across the aisle from me - he smelled as if he�d been playing Jacques Cousteau in a Honey Bucket for the last couple of days. The stench was a physical presence, something never to be forgotten by anyone who�d experienced it. The only thing that�s ever approached it, in my experience, is a summertime bus full of unwashed but patchouli-doused hippies headed for Hempfest � something else I would have missed out on if I hadn�t been on the Metro.

PS: OK, is the page� loading� really� slowly for anyone else tonight? Oh, wait, you wouldn�t be able to tell me because the frickin� comments are down again.

Joy! Rapture! The cherry on the cake of my day!

bmarkey 9/18/2002 06:05:00 PM

Tuesday, September 17, 2002

 

So many questions�

Why isn�t there an American version of Mojo magazine? Or is there one that I�m just not aware of? Am I not paying enough attention? I mean, The Big Takeover covers some of the same territory, I guess, but Jack is more into the interview thing rather than the historical overview. I don�t recall ever seeing a US mag devoted to rock history in the way that Mojo is, and I want to know why. (Goldmine doesn�t count.) Does the UK actually surpass the US in the all-important music geek race? I find that hard to believe. Anyone want to field this burning question?

bmarkey 9/17/2002 06:58:00 PM

Monday, September 16, 2002

 

I�m Qualified to Satisfy You

Hey, you! Yes, you, sittin� there at your keyboard. What the hell do you think you're doin�? Get up, put some shoes on (please), get your keys & go down to the nearest record store. (Yeah, I know. Don�t sass your elders.) Look for Ultraglide In Black, last year�s album (don�t start with me) by The Dirtbombs. Buy it. Play it. Thank me for recommending it.

Seriously, kids, this is good stuff. Two drummers, two bassists, no waiting for the groove. All garage-style covers of folks like Smokey Robinson, Curtis Mayfield, Phil Lynott (!), Marvin Gaye, and a killer version of �Living for the City� that would make Stevie Wonder cry like a baby, it�s so good. Finally, somebody (namely, Mick Collins) has remembered that all those garage bands back in the 60�s were big R&B fans. Plus it�s got the skanky, farfisa-driven original �Your Love Belongs Under a Rock�, so you get your daily dose of roughage. You could do so much worse than to treat yourself to the wonderfulness that is this little piece of plastic. All it wants to do is make you happy - won�t you give it a chance?

Want more? You�re in luck, as I am in the giving vein today. Here is an interview with Mick from 1999, and here�s one from last year. Here�s some information about the band & suchlike. Here are some pictures. (How could I say no to an url like that?)
Ok, that�s enough. Go. Now.

bmarkey 9/16/2002 09:30:00 PM

 

What are they thinking?

Maybe it�s just because I am new to this blog thing we have here, but I seem to be getting the weirdest Google hits. For example, I recently came up #1 in this search and, even stranger, this one. I don�t even want to know what that person was looking for. And I�ve actually gotten two hits for, um, that one I mentioned earlier. (I�m not going to post it because I don�t want to encourage this sort of thing. Oh, all right, here it is.)

Let me save everybody a lot of time and effort:

THIS IS NOT A PORN SITE!

Thanks for stopping by, though.

bmarkey 9/16/2002 05:22:00 PM

Friday, September 13, 2002

 

More Songs About Chocolate And Girls

Speaking of Fun, I was listening to the Undertones on the way in to work tonight. Their first couple of albums are full of zippy, peppy, power pop like �Teenage Kicks�, �Male Model�, and �Mars Bar�. Tunes which, if they�d had a more political slant to them, would undoubtedly have been classified as punk.

They�re a perfect example of why I prefer the term �guitar pop� to �power pop�. Power pop covers a multitude of sins � treacley lyrics and over-production are the two most egregious. A lot of power pop can be a bit wimpy at times. And that�s fine, of course; sometimes that�s what I want. But most of the time I want power pop, if you follow me. Guitar pop is power pop of a more robust nature.

Maybe this would be clearer: think of power pop as being represented by The Beatles, and guitar pop by, say, The Who. Although let�s not forget that Pete Townshend coined the term �power pop� to describe The Who. Hmm. Kinda confuses the issue, actually, but then that�s what I do best.

OK, how about this: the line between power pop and punk can be enormous, but the line between punk and guitar pop can be very very thin. For example, I think one could classify the Fastbacks as guitar pop without Kurt Bloch getting too upset. (If I ever bump into him, I�ll ask.) And the first album by everybody�s favorite guitar pop band had a few tunes which might have passed punk muster, back in the day. I seem to recall Big Black covering He�s A Whore at one point.

The only reason I even bother trying to make this distinction is because of the huge amounts of grief slung my way, by friends and strangers alike, when they find out that I like this sort of thing. It�s made me a little defensive. As the philosopher said, �I yam what I yam�, and I yam a lover of power pop. And of the Undertones, which is where we started out if I�m not mistaken.

bmarkey 9/13/2002 08:35:00 PM

Thursday, September 12, 2002

 

Hey, Ho, Let�s Go!

So where does roots music fit into the Revolution For Fun? (Ha! Betcha thought I forgot all about that, didn�t ya?) Well, I�m glad you asked. First off, whenever things get too foo-foo, too fluffy for their own good, it�s always a good idea to go back to first causes. If you follow the chain of influence back to the beginning (as much as possible) you can see where things came from, and (maybe) where things went astray. To know where you�re going you�ve got to know where you�ve been, to coin a phrase. It happened in the Sixties (the resurrection of rock & roll as an antidote to the bland pop of the day), the Seventies and early Eighties (the rise of punk as an antidote to the bloated excess rock had become), and, one could argue, in the Nineties (the rise of Nirvana as an antidote to, well, just about everything else that was going on). Strip it down & see where it takes you. See what�s left after you remove all the extraneous crap, all the bright & shiny objects that so distract us from our real aim. Which, as you�ll recall, is Fun.

(By making the Call for Fun I�m not asking folks to put their brains on hold, although there�s really nothing wrong with that, as long as it�s not a permanent state. Thinking too much can be as bad as not thinking at all, sometimes. It�s a fine line. Contrary to popular belief, however, it is possible to think and have Fun at the same time. George Clinton proved that, as have many others before and since.)

I�m not pining for a return to yesteryear anymore than I am pining for the fjords. I dig Hank Williams, Robert Johnson and James Brown as true sonic pioneers, but to try to slavishly imitate them is a mistake. Honor the past, know it and preserve it, but use it as a springboard to bigger and better things. Take from each that which is useful and add your own contribution to the mix. Capture the spirit and move on.

And while I�m at it, I�m not even arguing against any particular genre of music, although I did call out a few of them earlier on. There is True metal and False, True pop and False, etc. Although hip-hop has never really spoken to me, the middle-aged white guy, I can say that there is a True hip-hop, a Platonic ideal out there somewhere. The object of our game is to discern the True from the False; �twas ever thus. Reject False goods utterly, embrace the power and glory of the Real Deal, and the Fun shall be yours.

The dimwits at Rolling Stone are proclaiming that �Rock Is Back� on their latest cover. If they could just remove their collective nose from the boy-band ass it�s been so tightly wedged in for the past several years, they would have noticed that it never really went away. It passes out in the corner from time to time, but never completely leaves the room. As long as there are guitars and amps, rock & roll will be around in one form or another. Three chords and the truth are all it takes.

Well, that and a sense of humor. Seeing a band like the Hives become as popular as they have gives me some hope. They are Fun, while Limp Biskit, to use the first band that came to mind, is NOT. Fred Durst takes himself very seriously; Howlin� Pelle Almqvist does not. Anybody who calls himself Howlin� Pelle anything is on the side of Fun.

Having said that, I think what needs to happen is a synthesis of some more disparate ideas rather than the more straightforward ancestor-worship we�ve so far seen. While the Hives are indeed Fun, they�re not falling very far from the garage rock tree whence they sprang. I enjoy the White Stripes as much as the next guy, but a return to the Bloozerock of the Seventies would be dire. The original punks drew on a diverse pool of influences, whereas what passes for punk these days is increasingly self-referential, and has been for quite some time.

I have no idea what shape the new sound will take. Personally, I�d like to see someone marry the energy of punk to the passion of soul/R&B. The BellRays (as endorsed by jonmc) & the Dirtbombs are apparently doing that very thing. (Alas, I am on a dial-up at home & have no sound card at work. I haven�t heard either one yet, much to my great shame.)

The Revolution may already have begun. Which side are you going to be on?

Rise up, O my Sisters!
Rise, my Brothers, rise!
Rise in righteous indignation
Throw off your oppressors� chains
And let�s fuck some shit up!



bmarkey 9/12/2002 04:36:00 PM

Wednesday, September 11, 2002

 

Ever get the feeling you�ve been cheated?

Science Girl and I were talking about it today, and we both agreed that the time is more than ripe for the next punk rock to come along. You know how I was talking about getting back to roots last week? There�s an article in today�s New York Times that says I�m not alone. (You�ll need to log in to read it; user name = biggreenhouse, password = green) The �return to roots as response to 9/11� theory may apply in some cases, but by and large I think folks are just not being served by the music that�s available to them. They�re restless and bored. I think this article says exactly the same thing, and I think that it�s a very good sign.

People are growing tired of being spoon-fed synthetic �rebellion�, be it �hip-hop�, �punk�, �nu metal�, or whatever watered-down derivative is selling this week. Enough pre-packaged aggression. Real passion and humor, real human qualities, are getting harder and harder to find in music. Music used to be fun, goddammit! I want more fun, and I don�t think I�m alone. Who�s got my back?

OK, kids, this is it: no more whining about your parents, no more boasting about the bling-bling, no more lame-ass posture-copping. It�s time for a revolution in the name of fun! It�s time to kick all the weak shit to the curb and do it right. It�s time to, yes, �burn down the disco/ hang the blessed DJ�. It�s time. Go out and write your manifesto, your 99 theses, and nail them to the doors of the major labels. Reimagine yourself, reinvent the music, reinvigorate the culture. At 41 I�m too old to be doing this stuff myself, but if you build a cool enough bandwagon I�ll gladly jump on it - or at least help give it a push.

More to come...

bmarkey 9/11/2002 07:59:00 PM

 

Willkommen

I got a good night�s sleep last night, so I�m feelin� feisty.

Let�s start with a belated willkommen to all the German folks who stopped by the House today. Wie geht�s, y�all? (I left a note in the guestbook of a certain Teutonic webpage that had ripped its design from our ol� friend Iconomy�s icon page. The stolen design has been taken down, so all is well.) If I�d known you were comin� I would have bought more beer.

Stand by for feistiness.
bmarkey 9/11/2002 07:05:00 PM

Tuesday, September 10, 2002

 

He is a mod and he likes mod songs
He is a punk and he likes that junk

The tape box I picked up from the pile for my commute today was labeled �Pixies�. Now, I have a huge gap in my musical knowledge of the early nineties. I was in school then, studying theater of all things, so I had no money with which to buy new music and no spare time in which to listen to it if I�d had the funds to buy it in the first place. So, the Pixies are, for the most part, a big blank for me after �Gigantic�. I figured this would be a good way for me to catch up on what, if anything, I�d missed.

Or it would have been, if it had actually been a Pixies tape in the box. Instead, it was a compilation of a couple of albums by the Kent 3. Science Girl took me to one of their shows once; she�s been friends with Konny, AKA Viv Halogen the guitarist & singer, for a long time. (Seems like a nice guy, for what it�s worth.) Other than that, I�d never really heard much of them before.

Well, I�m here to tell you that it was quite a pleasant surprise. These boys rock, plain & simple. I know one of the albums on the tape was Stories of the New West; I�m not sure what the other one was. Might have been some EPs, for all I know. Anyway, track down Stories of the New West if you can. It�s a great blend of surf & punk (not to be confused with the Surf Punks) with some amusing lyrics. (Remember when music used to have a sense of humor?) �Mad About the Boy� and �11th St. Wipeout� are particular faves.

I haven�t heard anything off of the new album Spells yet, and I was kind of surprised to see it come out. The last I�d heard, the band was calling it a day. The drummer had moved to New York State and Konny seemed kinda frustrated with things, according to Science Girl. Perhaps she was mistaken. Anyway, It�s probably worth looking into.

Still don�t know about the Pixies, though.

bmarkey 9/10/2002 05:17:00 PM

Monday, September 09, 2002

 
What I forgot to mention earlier is that postings may become somewhat erratic in the days to come. There is a lot of anxiety in the air right now at The Big Green House, and my focus needs to be on other things. We�re hoping that all speed bumps have been smoothed out, or are at least in the process of becoming so. Still, one never knows.

I�m not trying to be all mysterious or anything, just respecting the wishes of the people directly involved. (Jeez, I�m just making this worse, aren�t I?) I'll write what I can, when I can.
bmarkey 9/09/2002 09:26:00 PM

 
Hi.

I�m still here. It was a busy weekend, with many things going on - none of which I can discuss here. I usually don�t touch the computer on weekends anyway, except to check email.

I tried making up something to post. Let�s just call that a failed experiment and move on, shall we? I might be able to salvage it later, but the truth is I�m generally not going to post unless I have something to say. (And yes, I know that a very strong case could be made that I only post when I have absolutely nothing to say, to which I reply: Har har, har-dee har har. It is to laugh.)

In other non-news, haloscan seems to be eating the few comments I get here. They say they�ve got the problem in hand, that it was occurring because they were moving between servers or something. I say, if they lose one more comment I�m dumping them. I�m loathe to do that because A) I like getting comments, B) some of the other commenting services I looked at actually had waiting lists, and C) it was a huge pain in the ass for me to install. I am not even remotely technically inclined, so ph33r my l4ck of skillz! But if people are kind enough to comment here, I�d like to be able to preserve their effort. My apologies to anyone whose comment has disappeared.
bmarkey 9/09/2002 09:49:00 AM

Thursday, September 05, 2002

 

Public Service Announcement

Hey kids � school is back in session for another year. I know this because the bus to work today was filled with eager young high school students. Let me take this opportunity to address the boys in the group, �cause I know I�ve got a huge readership in the 16 � 21 male demographic:

Guys, listen to your ol� uncle b - nobody, and I mean nobody, wants to see your sorry ass hanging out of your jeans. I don�t care how much you spent on those boxer shorts you seem to be so proud of � keep �em to yourself!

Think I�m making this up? Guess again, dog. The company I work for employs several young women of high school age. We don�t hang out a lot (that would be unseemly) but we are on friendly terms. I took a very scientific Big Green House poll of these gals on this very subject, and I�m here to tell you that they are most emphatically not in favor of seeing your skivvies in public. (Probably not in private, either, but modesty forbade my asking.) Direct quotes included �Ew!�, �No way!�, and �Are you kidding?�

�Low-rider� pants are a fine American tradition dating back at least to the mid �70�s, when my own high school career began. But trust me � wearing the crotch of your pants down around your knees does not make you look bad, tuff, evil sexy, or whatever else you might think.

Take a tip & keep �em over your hip.

bmarkey 9/05/2002 05:49:00 PM

Wednesday, September 04, 2002

 

Time Waits For No One

As I�m sure you�re aware, the Rolling Stones have embarked on yet another US tour. I�d been thinking about addressing that fact here, but I�d like to thank jonmc for doing so on his blog & anathema for his comments there. They gave me the boot in the ass that I needed to get going.

Let�s get this out of the way right at the top: The Stones created some of the fiercest music ever made by human hands. They were, at one time, everything a Rock & Roll band was supposed to be - loud, dangerous, sexy, arrogant, the very embodiment of the �dope, guns, and fucking in the streets� ethos that The Sixties Revolution devolved into. They were the scale by which all other bands were measured. As they say over on Glorious Noise, �Rock & Roll can change your life�. The Rolling Stones did change my life, and for the better. Writing about music truly is like dancing about architecture, but trust me when I say that I have derived much joy and solace from this band.

But time waits for no one (and it won�t wait for me). The Stones are not what they once were, and that�s fine; neither is anyone else. (As I write this, I�m wearing my new reading glasses.) The problem lies in their refusal, or inability, to acknowledge that inevitable fact.

A rolling stone gathers no moss, as they say, yet these Stones don�t really roll much anymore. They�re stagnant, stuck in that same �Satisfaction/Jumpin�Jack Flash/Brown Sugar� rut for thirty-some years now. (Those are all great songs, by the way. No knock on the material is intended, nor should it be implied. However, it�s difficult to imagine that �Satisfaction� means much of anything to them, at this late date, other than another golden oldie to be gotten through before they can head back to the hotel.)

The fact that they can be in such a state, charge however much it is that they�re asking for tickets this time around (I seem to remember seeing $150 mentioned somewhere, but it�s probably closer to $85), and still pack �em in says something. I�m in the process of working out what that something is, but I suspect that it says that you can travel far on a good reputation, no matter how torn and frayed it may be. It also says something about the ticket-buying public.

The Rolling Stones, as a financial entity, will continue to clear a profit until well after Mick finally dies (most likely in the arms of some 16-year-old Brazilian model, at age 89). I would expect nothing less of the business major that he once was. But Keith (who has proven his inability to die) should know better. Mick has always been about the trappings of being a Rock Star, whereas Keith at least seemed to care more about the music. Maybe that�s a naive view on my part, as is my expectation that he�d rather save a scrap of his dignity while he can than go out on the State Fair circuit for another paycheck. (Which is essentially what this tour boils down to. They might as well be Rick Springfield doing his greatest hits right before the tractor pull. Well, greatest hit in Rick�s case, but I think you get my point.)

Is it realistic of me to expect that? Probably not. The members of the band are human beings, flawed by definition. If I were in Keith�s python boots I like to think that I�d be able to walk away from it; that�s very easy for me to sit here and type because it�s never going to happen.To be honest, if I were faced with the possibility of such an enormous potential payday, I don�t know what I�d do. Should I expect more of him, and of the band as well, than I would of myself?

And yet I do, because I am a fan. Fan is short for fanatic, and logic doesn�t enter into fanaticism. Or, rather, fanaticism has its own logic, and it states that it�s better to leave a lasting artistic legacy than to milk the cash cow until she�s bleeding from every teat.

As a fan, I would much rather see them slug it out in the studio and come out with an (amazing) album dealing with the aging process, the passage of time and the changes it brings as seen through the eyes of what was once The Greatest Rock & Roll Band On Earth, than to trot out the nostalgia machine one more time. I believe that they�ve got such an album in them, if only they could be bothered to write it.

Constant reinvention has kept Bob Dylan and Neil Young, to name two artists of approximately the same vintage as the Stones, as vital as they are today. They have acknowledged that they have aged. Granted, neither one of them has the reputation as �party boys� that the Stones do; I suspect that that may have something to do with why they�ve been able to roll with the changes & why Mick, Keith, et al. haven�t.

I know that I�m just pissing in the wind here. The financial aspect of the band doesn�t really concern me, beyond trying to convince Science Girl that buying all those remastered CDs they�ve just released is actually an investment. As much as I hate to see them diluting themselves, I realize that the Stones will continue doing so while people continue to line up to see them. And maybe everybody walks away from the transaction happy. Maybe I�m just a bitter old fart. As somebody once said, you can�t always get what you want.
bmarkey 9/04/2002 01:24:00 PM

Tuesday, September 03, 2002

 

Cat�s away = slovenly mice

Science Girl is out of town for a few days, so it�s just me and Lucy rattling around The Big Green House. And you know what that means � crumbs from dog snacks (and bmarkey snacks) on the couch, beer bottles on the kitchen counter, and the bed stays unmade until she returns. (Actually, that happens when she�s here, too.) But we miss her, and eagerly await her return so we can jump up and lick her face.

I borrowed SG�s cassette of Louder Than Bombs for the trip in to work tonight. I haven�t listened to The Smiths in a long, long time, so it was nice to get reacquainted with them. I haven�t heard much of Morrissey�s solo output, but from what I�m told I haven�t missed too much. What the hell has Johnny Marr been up to all this time, though? I know he played a few dates with The Pretenders, because I saw one of them. (Talk about a mismatch! Marr�s approach was far too delicate for the more rambunctious, bash-it-out Hynde compositions. I was disappointed.) And I seem to recall his doing something with Ian McWhatsisname from Echo & The Bunnymen in the early 90�s. But where is he now? Morrissey got all the attention from the press, but he would have been just another loudmouth (bigmouth?) British popstar without Marr�s songwriting & arranging.

bmarkey 9/03/2002 06:55:00 PM

Monday, September 02, 2002

 

Roots

Lately I�m finding myself more and more interested in roots music (Jump Blues, Rockabilly, Blues, Country, R&B, Western Swing, etc.). I�m not sure exactly why that is. I�ve always appreciated this music, but never felt as compelled to seek it out as I do now. Might be because I don�t listen to the radio much anymore. I used to listen to KCMU, uh, I mean KEXP pretty religiously while I was driving a truck for a living, so I kept up on new releases fairly well. Since I don�t really have that access to new music anymore (I find it almost impossible to listen to radio while I�m boppin� around the house-go figure), I�m dependant on reviews I see here and there. It�s a very hit-or-miss approach, and at $12 - $18 USD a pop, it�s a drag to read a glowing review of something that turns out to be a steaming heap of goatshit. Hence, a return to roots. The tried and the true.

Except in my case, it�s not so much �tried and true� as it is vague memories and good intentions. I just don�t know a hell of a lot beyond the basics. I�ve always enjoyed educating myself, though, so I guess the thing to do is to jump in and figure out which way to go. Any suggestions, kids?

bmarkey 9/02/2002 10:05:00 PM

 

Family Time

Mom has been and gone. We had a nice, if exceedingly brief, visit. She�d been visiting my grandmother & aunts & uncles up in Bellingham for the week, and came down here yesterday afternoon. She left for the airport around 9:30 this morning, when it was about 65 degrees and overcast; it�s currently 101 in Lodi, about ten miles from where my parents live. Getting off the plane in Sacramento was probably a bit of a shock for her.

Dad doesn�t like to travel, so he stayed home and took care of the cattle. Some people collect stamps; my dad restores old tractors and raises cattle. If you�re planning a rodeo & need some roping calves let me know & maybe I can hook you up.

It�s raining here right now, which is both good and bad. It�s good because we have been dry for about 3 weeks now, which is a really long time here. Everyone�s been complaining about dry skin & dead lawns, so a good healthy rain is just what we were looking for. On the other hand, it�s not going to do the tomatoes still on our vines a bit of good. I�m really hoping that we don�t lose them to rot.

Also, I didn�t bring a jacket to work tonight.

I really hope I get Management Day off, because management all stayed home for Labor Day.

bmarkey 9/02/2002 05:16:00 PM