Groen-Pull

Although I usually like to post at least a couple of times a week, I don’t want to just say something for the sake of being heard. If I have a point to make, I’ll make it. I’m just lucky (like so many others), that this blog provides me a forum for speaking my mind.

I don’t reference other articles too often, but I’m such a fan of this writer, I had to draw attention to his art. Rick Groen, a writer for The Globe & Mail, is by far my favourite movie critic, if not my favourite columnist, period. He has a talent for summarizing complex concepts, and stringing them together in a concise, elegant cord of logic, yet it is somehow so tight.

In this article , Rick discusses the undercurrent of violence in the major Oscar nominated movies this year, and how these are the first indications of a broader artistic awareness of post 9/11 life which is informed by violence. In describing what I felt was the best movie of the year, Rick describes A History of Violence thusly:

There, in the opening sequence, we see a pair of evildoing strangers murdering an innocent family. We see that evil justifiably avenged by a dubious hero who, in so doing, perpetuates the cycle of violence embedded in his own past. We see his act of vengeance applauded by an admiring media. We see the sins of this father visited on the son. We see his wife simultaneously revolted by and sexually attracted to the violence resurrected in her husband. And, in the last frame, we see violence, personified by the flawed hero, returning home to sit at the head table, where it's tacitly accepted and silently welcomed.

That was the movie in 107 words. I should only hope to be so succinct. Meanwhile, go check out the article. Rick raises some great points, and cements my fandom.

ROME DISCO LIZ 1976 HIGH SCHOOL CANADA, Elizabeth

For fans of Douglas Coupland.

Ben vs. Elliott

One of the useless pursuits of this blog is to rate, list and compare relevant artists of my day. Two artists that strike my fancy are Elliott Smith and Ben Folds. One is a clever, bubbly, observational genius; the other was a clever, depressed, observational genius. They’re really very much like John Lennon and Paul McCartney, even insofar as the pessimist is dead, and the optimist lives on. But, like Lennon and McCartney, comparison is pointless because, how does one determine who is better? Both are/were clearly geniuses, both wrote stellar songs, and both impacted the music of so many. Wait, am I talking about Lennon and McCartney, or Smith and Folds? Even though this accomplishes nothing more than to satiate my need to compare, here is a table comparison of Ben vs. Elliott.

Points (out of 5)	Ben Folds	Elliott Smith
Clever lyrics	☺☺☺☺☺	☻☻☻☻
Musicianship	☺☺☺☺☺	☻☻☻☻
Melodies	☺☺☺☺	☻☻☻☻☻
Arrangements	☺☺☺	☻☻☻☻
Subtlety	☺☺	☻☻☻☻
Dynamics	☺☺☺	☻☻☻
Performance	☺☺☺☺	☻☻
Diversity	☺☺	☻☻☻☻
Who is alive-er	☺☺☺☺☺	☻
	33	31

I love them both, but Ben Folds comes out on top. Unless Elliott comes back from the dead, in which case Ben is going to have to work hard to get where he needs to be. It’s hard, but I believe he can do it if it works at it.

The true cost of Payola

I’ve completely written off FM radio as a viable source of entertainment. I tried to do my duty as a fan of music and listen to the radio every once in a while as a means of feeding myself the newest music out there. MTV too. But the videos got tired and they were the first to go. I faithfully held on to the radio dial as long as I could, but eventually I started slipping and the knob changed to AM radio, where it remains today.

I am still a lover of music. In fact, my appreciation for music seems to grow with the coming days. New artists appear like riders at a bus stop, and every once in a while, I lovingly drop off second-hand bands at the next stop, thankful for their role in my path towards musical maturity (whatever that is). Point is, I love music. But I hate the radio.

I think radio is a victim of the very thing to which it has contributed: A.D.D. Psychological issues are more complex than that, but very few people would argue with the idea that MTV, commercials and a rapid succession of two-minute songs have only contributed to the inability of the masses to pay attention for very long. Add to that: microwaves, broadband, TiVo, turbo-chargers, and the list goes on. We’re impatient and we can’t seem to pay attention for very long. And radio suffers.

Instead of hearing one song once, digesting it and being primed to hear it a second time, we are plastic walls waiting to be painted. People try so hard to get that first coat on—these songwriters and A&R reps screaming, “listen to me; love me; remember my name!”—but the paint just keeps coming off. Nothing sticks.

Enter Payola.

Payola’s roots go far back, and although it became fairly regular practice, it was blasphemous to even say the word at one time. Even Canadian new wave band “The Payolas” had a difficult time separating themselves from the negative connotation inherent in their name. But payola- literally record companies bribing radio stations to play their tunes over and over again- is still here, and is very much responsible for the repetitive bullshit we get fed through radio channels every day (unless, like me, you have turned over to the dark [talk] side of radio).

Payola is a response to a new crop of victims of modern technology: we’re not paying attention, so let’s shove this crap so far up their arses, they’ll have to like our songs. And I’ve seen it happen a million times. Why else would anyone ever listen to a Shaggy song? Ashlee Simpson? Nelly? Payola works because after 100 listens, it’s hard for most people not to like a song. The problem with me is, after 100 listens, it’s hard for me to still like a song.

The reason Payola is so offensive, besides the fact that it’s cheating on a most heinous level, is that for every Mariah Carey song paid to be on the air, there’s one less new artist ready to blow us away with her music. Technology is atoning for its sins, however, by allowing a forum for talented musicians to not only record a metric tonne of music for next to nothing, but it also gives Joe Indy a chance to market, distribute and play music without going through standard radio channels. Rock is finally able to actually stick it to the man. With myspace.com, purevolume.com and many other effective marketing outlets, a band needs very little from record companies. Thankfully, technology hasn’t found a way to replace talent. We do a good job of bunging that up ourselves.

Emo Confessional

Can you think of a more pitiable form of music than this bottom-feeding musical tumor? Well, yes I can, namely 80s metal, many forms of polka, many forms of hip-hop, many, many forms of country music… and, like all these forms of music, Emo has its bright sides. But on the whole, Emo music sucks. Collected Apologies asked for the input of a range of columnists to offer their opinions on Emo, E.B. White and Oedipus Rex. Here’s what they had to say:

Collected Apologies: So, let’s get started. What’s wrong with Emo?

Nat Porter, Syncopation Monthly: What’s wrong with Emo? What’s not wrong with Emo? What a hopelessly pathetic, contrived so-called art form.

Gracey Rogers, Poughkeepsie Press: Hold on, hold on. If you’re going to comment, be specific, rather than laying blanket abuse on the issue.

CA: Okay, Gracey- what do you have to say about Emo?

GR: It’s a loosely held-together form of humdrum music put together by whiny, relentlessly self-effacing pretty white boys.

Ben Carver, West Atlantic Times: Not bad. You forgot pretentious.

NP: Call it what you want to, I hate it. Every time I hear that f------ Chris Carrabba [Dashboard Confessional] piss and moan about his stupid life, it makes me want to stab my ears with a Q-tip, but not before I stab his. Honestly! He’s a rock-star, he’s reasonably good looking… what is he so f------ miserable about?

CA: Easy, Nat, this is a family show.

NP: I’m sorry; he just gets under my skin. I just get irritated by the man. I honestly don’t know why he wallows all alone in his white-boy pain.

BC: Ben Folds reference- Nice!

NP: Thanks. And does it strike anyone as pretentious to give an individual a band name? Dashboard Confessional is one person; does he really deserve an entire band name himself? Maybe if he were Burt Bacharach—

GR: We already listed pretense as a major character flaw of Emo, but while we’re at it, it does strike me as incongruous to write such woe-is-me lyrics when most of these kids are the products of wealthy, suburban, post-modern families. Who bought your guitar for you, kiddies? It’s as efficacious as listening Britney Spears complain about her life. The biggest problem facing Emo musicians is how to get their hair to stay out of their eyes, so it doesn’t get wet from all their tears. They’re sensitive souls, you know.

BC: Tell me about it. These are the roll models for kids these days: Britney teaches the girls how important it is to be a pretty princess, and Emo teaches the boys how important it is to be a pretty princess. There’s something disingenuous about the way these guys mete out their pain, too. It’s not in an Elliott Smith, depressed genius kind of way. The Emo emotions come off as transparent and insincere: she dumped you, get over it!

NP: I know! F---!

CA: Nat, please. Now, isn’t anyone here a campaigner for Emo? You three represent major publications, all of which have done many cover stories on major Emo bands.

NP: You know as well as I know, our publications are crap.

GR: Okay, you need to leave.

BC: The publishing mandate of our respective publications notwithstanding, Emo is a tired, boring form of music. The lyrics are so conceited. As E.B. White would say, grasping towards imagined eloquence—

GR: “Elements of Style”- I love that book! Are you doing anything after this?

CA: Seriously, though: does anyone have anything good to say about Emo bands?

NP: That’s a tall order. It’s tough to say anything positive about whiney, white rich kids who cry at the drop of a hat, and write crappy, crappy music. There also seems to be some Oedipal issue going on there.

GR: For once, we agree on something, Nat. Myke, what we have here is predictable music, bad grade-10-poetic lyrics, too-tight t-shirts and whineyness. That’s a formula for bad music.

For once, Gracie, we agree on something.

Yet another top-10 list. Sucka.

I was going to have a more political discussion to commemorate a great conversation with my good friend Tom Gale, but I’m all politik’d out right now. So what’s a good substitute? A top-10 list. Here are a few:

My top-10 favourite guitarists of all time (in no particular order):

Shawn Tubbs – session player/Violet Burning. It seems silly to list Shawn, because so many people down here know him personally, it’s like mentioning your next-door neighbour as your all-time favourite poker-player. But the truth is, Shawn is an incredible player and had a huge influence on me as a young player. I used to pick up all his albums, even if he only had a single solo on it. Sean’s got great tone and a solid, but unique soloing style.

Ty Tabor – King’s X. It amazes me how few guitarists tip their hats to Ty- especially those in heavy bands. Ty perfected dropped tunings (in a way which almost no one has been able to duplicate without making me want to puke). Ty is a riffer’s rifer. He’s also a great singer and a good arranger, but I probably wouldn’t put him on here if it weren’t for his soloing. Between Ty and Shawn, I had my hands full trying (yet never succeeding) to learn their solos. Ty’s solo style is all his own- beautiful yet interesting.

Stevie Ray Vaughan – Double Trouble. As much as I hate the Stevie imitators, it’s a tribute to his incredible distinctiveness as a player that so many people have tried (and failed) to rip him off. There are some fine young copycats out there, including (but not limited to) John Mayer, Colin James and Kenny Wayne Shepherd, but no one touches Stevie. For starters, he was the first to take that Jimi thang and make it his own. And he did it cleaner than Jimi with tone to make you soil yourself. And he did it 20 years ago when most Van Halen wanna-bes were tweaking their rack systems.

Rusty Anderson – session/Paul McCartney/Ednaswap. I just love Rusty’s playing. His tone and his technique, while not being anything extraordinarily ground-breaking are just solid. Frankly, Rusty’s got the dream tone. He’s got the tone I want. I’d swap tone with him any day (don’t take that the wrong way, Rusty). Rusty’s got very balanced, mature tone. He’s not afraid to get a little mid-rangey, but it somehow retains it’s bright spongeyness. It’s easy to get great tone with a Strat (which he did on the “living la vida loca” riff), but getting good mahogany tones takes skill, and Rusty has that in spades. Technically speaking, Rusty has very few competitors. He’s got huge fingers and he knows how to use ‘em.

Phil Keaggy – solo artist. As a songwriter, Phil bores me to tears. As a guitarist, Phil blows everyone away. What he can do with an acoustic should shame all of us 10-fingered players into practice. But there’s no reason: no one else can do with an acoustic what Phil can do with an acoustic. He’s the kind of guy that people on this list would salivate over (in fact: I think Shawn Tubbs is one of those people). He’s more than a player’s player. He’s the player. Period.

Jagori Tanna – I Mother Earth/Producer. Sadly, no one on this list will have ever heard of Jag; and very few people not on this list would know him either. But it doesn’t diminish Jag’s talent. Tonally speaking, he does a better SRV than anyone I’ve mentioned before (save SRV himself), but he does his own thing. Jag blends the tone of Stevie with the fretboard restlessness of Carlos Santana (though he blows Senior Santana out of the water, as a player), with the creativeness of Tom Morello, and he did it in a tired and dying genre. He held me in awe during his many jam sessions. He was also an innovator: I don’t know anyone else who plays slap guitar, but if they do, they’d be hard-pressed to slap as well as Jag does on the song “Production.” What a fiend. Although I’ve seen him play around 30 times, it saddens me that he will likely never find a stage again. If that is true, it is a waste of incredible talent.

Brian May – Queen. Brian taught me that midrange is okay. I swore by Strats until the day I first heard “Bohemian.” That’s not exactly true: I was in elementary school when I first heard that song, but Brian did instill in me an appreciation for complex overtones and midrangey mahogany guitars. He was way, way ahead of his time.

Johnny Greenwood – Radiohead. How decidedly un-obscure of me. Oh well. Johnny’s amazing and that’s all you can say. He’s so creative and fresh. Listening to Johnny is like dipping your face in a cool lake after swimming in puddle water for years. His tones are interesting (the man uses solid-state amps for goodness’ sake! Not all the time mind you, but still… how daring).

Jason Falkner – Jellyfish/Jason Falkner. Jason impresses me more as a songwriter and a singer, but he’s an incredible player, too. Not as gifted as a Jon Brion, Jason does his own thing, and he does it very well. Borne out of the Beatles camp, Jason is adept at melodic playing and soloing. His solos, while being less technical than Shawn Tubbs or Ty Tabor, are melody-intensive. They’re movements until themselves. They never fail to propel a song until a new place. Jason is one of the very, very few vibey soloists left. He’s an ass, but he kicks ass too.

Jon Brion – Solo/Producer/Movies. Jon is everything Jason is but better. More virtuosic on the guitar, yet somehow more vibey. More technically adept, yet more credible and cool than Andy Wharhol at a swinger’s party. Jon is an accomplished musician on every level, but as a guitarist, he has a way of picking out incredible, innovative parts, which sound at once familiar and fresh. Because Jon’s musical vocabulary is so extensive, he has a rich heritage to draw from. As such, you will never find Jon playing a boring chord unless somehow it fits the song, but then you’ll find it was never boring to begin with. Jon would take that chord- like a discarded t-shirt, and wear it with a fresh new style you never thought possible. And tone. Jon commands tone. Whether it’s shimmering sponge or complex midrange, or ugly fuzz, Jon knows how to do it better than almost anyone. I heard it on good authority that Jon owns an AC-30 so good-sounding, that Brian May offered him the world just to have it. And Jon turned it down. Jon is a musical chameleon, the likes of which the world has never seen, but as a guitarist: he’s top-notch. Next up, piano….

Also, check out

I was watching Law & Order, when a preview came on for a new NBC show about District Attorney Assistants. The music for the preview was from a band called the Gabe Dixon Band, and the song was "All Will Be Well." I bought it right away, and all will be well with you, if you do the same. And while I'm at it, check out Peter Salett's songs "heart of mine," and "after a while." It is a good time for TV and music... just not radio. Damn thee radio: damn thee to oblivion!

A random sampling

A couple of things I need to sound off on:

”Final Destination 3.” Unlike some sequels, which build on a formula of cast (Cheech and Chong, Rocky), characters (Superman, Rocky), or franchise name (Friday the 13^th, Jurassic Park) to propel them, this movie relies on the same premise- over, and over again. Get a new idea, folks.

(oooh- look at her run in terror. Poor thing)
Britney the mother: If there was a legal way to prevent puffed-up, witless, prima-donna princesses who are incapable of acting as a role model for one person or one million people from having babies, then Britney Spears would be a prime candidate. She was recently caught driving with her baby in her lap, purportedly running away from the evil clutches of the paparazzi. Brit, I didn’t buy it with Lohan, and I don’t buy it with you. Maybe you and your white trash husband didn’t think things through, huh?

In response to the State of the Union address last week, Exxon Mobil Senior Vice President Stuart McGill said that the United States will always rely on foreign oil (and Exxon would have it no other way.) From the people who brought you the Exxon Valdez, global warming, and muscular profits on the backs of recent oil-spikes, we give you “Gluttony: the pursuit of global ruin.” This is the third creative work from Exxon. Other major creative contributions include, “Honey, I blew up the world,” and the hit single, “might as well face it you’re addicted to hydrocarbons.”

Exxon is the playground drug dealer, and we are its consumers. Luckily, not everyone is of the same mind as Mr. McGill. Toyota is proving that there can be a link between profit margins and environmental responsibility.

Side note: the expression is “champing at the bit,” not “chomping.” It’s a horse term.

Another side note: when two independent words are brought together to form an adjective, you use a hyphen. For example: Marissa looked good in her form-fitting jeans.

Apocalypse Now

I woke up yesterday morning, looked out my window, and this is what I saw.