With the slow demise of the compact disc, the music industry’s last physical organizing principle, I thought it appropriate to ask some people inside and on the margins of that industry how the CD’s death was affecting their conception of recorded music. In ironic honor of Record Store Day, this month’s roundtable question is How has the decline of the compact disc affected the way you approach the idea of recording music? I asked producers, musicians, emcees, DJs, and label folks. Continue reading “Roundtable Question, April 2009”
It’s Better to Burn Out Than to Fade Away.
Darby Crash had the perfect punk-rock plan: takeover the L.A. punk scene in five years, commit suicide, and become immortalized as a legend. Little did he know that Mark David Chapman would derail that plan very shortly after Darby followed through.
Biggie Smalls never had such a plan, but after a five-year ascent to the top of the rap game, unknown gunmen burned his name into music history forever.
I don’t want to achieve immortality through my work; I want to achieve immortality through not dying. — Woody Allen
Darby Crash (born Paul Beahm and briefly known as Bobby Pyn) had a rough upbringing, but somehow ended up an intelligent, charismatic iconoclast in early adulthood. His sloppy but visionary leadership is exactly what made the Germs the incendiary and legendary act that they’re remembered as.
Biggie Smalls (born Christopher Wallace and also known as the Notorious B.I.G.) had a rough but loving upbringing and ended up an intelligent, charismatic poet in early adulthood. His street-influenced but hopeful rhymes put him deservedly in the running as one of the best emcees ever in the eyes of millions.
Darby Crash’s five-year plan included writing songs, putting together a band, booking gigs, and learning to play — in that order. Germs shows were so notorious for their violence, drug use, and insanity that by the time their first and only full-length record came out (the Joan-Jett produced (GI); Slash, 1979), the Germs weren’t allowed to play anywhere in L.A. Their perfrmance in Penelope Spheeris’s punk-rock documentary The Decline of Western Civilization, Part I (Spheeris Films, 1981) was shot in a space rented especially for the film.
Though his first full-length record didn’t surface until 1994, Biggie Smalls’ career was already in full effect. He’d signed with Puffy in 1992 and had dropped sixteens on several records. Ready to Die (Bad Boy, 1994) spawned three major chart hits and went on to become a certified Hip-hop classic. It was to be the only record he would see released in his short lifetime.
What We Do Is Secret (Peace Arch, 2008), Roger Grossman’s biographical film depicting the unlikely rise, loud and bright burn, and inevitable fall of Darby Crash and the Germs truly captures the spirit, if not of the times, of Crash’s presence. Shane West is mesmerizing. One reviewer wrote that West seems to be channeling Crash, and I’m inclined to agree. His performance reminds me of higher profile iconic nails being hit on their heads, such as Denzel Washington’s Malcolm X and Jim Carrey’s Andy Kaufman. Though West’s Crash tends to overshadow everyone else in the movie (as one imagines Crash did in real life), Rick Gonzalez and Bijou Phillips are also brilliant as Pat Smear and Lorna Doom.
Notorious (Fox Searchlight, 2009) does a serviceable job of telling Biggie’s story from a fan’s perspective. To be fair, Voletta Wallace (Biggie’s moms) and Sean Combs (his A&R rep, mentor, and friend) are executive producers, so investigative reporting this isn’t. Also serviceable is Jamal Woolard’s depiction of Biggie. It’d be dead-on if it were based on mannerisms alone (everyone in this movie nails the nonverbals), and if Anthony Mackie’s performance as Tupac Shakur wasn’t so fresh (though it is jumped off by a “dear stupid viewer” scene in which he’s unnecessarily introduced by name several times). The studio scene that started the so-called coastal feud between Biggie and Tupac, Bad Boy and Death Row records — in which Tupac is shot several times and in the confusion blames Biggie and the Bad Boy crew — is written and filmed in a perfectly chaotic manner. You feel like a witness to the jumbled madness. Biggie’s coincidentally tying up all of his personal loose ends on the eve of his death on the other hand…
Following his coup d’etat of the L. A. punk scene (done) and in the spirit of the Neil Young quotation above, Darby Crash planned on killing himself via a lethal dose of heroin, thus becoming a punk rock legend. After one last Germs reunion show, he followed through on December 7th, 1980. Unfortunately, John Lennon was shot and killed the very next day, overshadowing the death of Darby Crash and one of the greatest punk rock bands of all time.
Though Biggie’s debut record was titled “Ready to Die,” he had no such plans of becoming a martyred legend, but the first-person theatrics of Hip-hop storytelling were lost somewhere in the mix of “keeping it real.” Poetic first person doesn’t always mean the man on the mic. The space between that person and the one on the street are walls closing in, and on March 9th, 1997, those walls closed for Christopher Wallace.
If Notorious let its dynamic characters stand on their own like What We Do Is Secret does, it’d be a better movie and a more fitting tribute for it. Both Darby Crash and Biggie Smalls deserve the attention and these movies though. They both rebelled, rose above, and rocked shit. People with their abundant talent, unyielding drive, and unfettered commitment don’t come around very often.
Though some may see the comparison as forced, the parallels between these two men and these two movies are myriad. Even their mode of rebellion and the related conspicuous consumption are integral to their similarities. Biggie’s Hip-hop (i.e., that of the mid-to-late 90s) and Darby’s punk rock (i.e., that of the mid-to-late 70s) used consumerism to stake their positions relative to mainstream America. Though they do it in different ways, both speak for the frustrations and aspirations of marginalized, working-class youth. Both are undeniably angry, but both are ultimately hopeful.
————
Shot live at The Whisky in L.A. circa 1979, here is “Lexicon Devil” by the Germs — a glimpse of the captivating chaos that was Darby Crash (runtime: 2:02).
And to keep it rugged and raw, here’s a clip of a seventeen-year-old Biggie Smalls battling on the street in Brooklyn (runtime: 1:05). Listen as he deftly switches his pitch to follow the break of the beat. Fresh.
Adisa Banjoko: Think Ahead
Adisa Banjoko deserves to be very famous, if only because he’s diligently spreading so many good ideas. As the CEO of the Hip-hop Chess Federation, which stands tough with The RZA and WuChess, he fuses and uses chess, Hip-hop, and martial arts to teach the youth strong life-strategy skills. Author of the essential essay/interview collections Lyrical Swords, Vol. 1 and 2, Adisa is pushing positive on all fronts. Continue reading “Adisa Banjoko: Think Ahead”
Blessed Are They Who Bash Your Children’s Head Against a Rock: dälek’s Gutter Tactics
As elated as many of us are that we elected Barack Obama our next president, dälek is here to remind us that it ain’t all good. Opening with a minute-plus excerpt from a Reverend Wright sermon, Gutter Tactics (Ipecac, 2009) lets you know from jump that dälek isn’t caught up in the hoopla of hope. But don’t get it twisted. This record’s not a downer. It’s a get-the-fuck-up-er. Are you ready to make change for real? Are you ready for the realest, hardest Hip-hop there is? Your answer’s kind of odd for a kid who loves to nod. Continue reading “Blessed Are They Who Bash Your Children’s Head Against a Rock: dälek’s Gutter Tactics”
WU: The History of the Wu-Tang Clan DVD
Watching the studio clips from the making of The Black Album on Jay-Z’s Fade to Black DVD is so inspiring. Watching the energy of the creative process as it unfolds and bears fruit is rarely captured so vividly. It reminds me of watching BMX and skateboard “buddy” videos and how they depict just how much fun it is to be so good at something. Continue reading “WU: The History of the Wu-Tang Clan DVD”
Think Big, Live Without Limitations
From my boy paWL (via Alaska, both of the legendary Hangar 18 crew), a positively put, election-related video. To be more specific, watching President-Elect Obama’s acceptance speech inspired Paul and friends to create something in response. They felt compelled to capture the spirit of that night in a way that would begin to explain the import of this election and how personal it was to so many people. At the same time, it asks everyone to look forward, keep the momentum established in the Obama campaign and THINK BIG about our future. Continue reading “Think Big, Live Without Limitations”
Maker Faire, 2008: Austin, Texas
Wow, where does one start? The makers of the world convened in Austin, Texas one weekend in October to make, build, rebuild, battle, and exchange their stuff and their ideas. I even had visitors from two other states join in the fun. Perhaps the best way to approach a summary of Maker Faire’s controlled chaos, of this menagerie of goods and good-doers, of this DIY carnival, of the impossible to sum up is a list with occasional pictures… Continue reading “Maker Faire, 2008: Austin, Texas”
33 1/3: Books About Records
Writing about music is like dancing about architecture.
The line above has been attributed to several voices — Elvis Costello, Miles Davis, Frank Zappa, and Lester Bangs, among others — but if the roof is on fire, I say we dance. Continuum’s 33 1/3 Series, helmed by the insightful and inimitable David Barker, is good books all about good records. Not just “good” records, but records that changed the face of music in one way or another — records that set the roof aflame, and the two I just read — Paul’s Boutique by Dan LeRoy and Loveless by Mike McGonigal — are just that.
I know, what can possibly be said about Paul’s Boutique and Loveless that you haven’t already heard some drunken music geek say jumping up and down waving his or her (probably his) hands? I thought the same thing, but having been that drunken, hand-waving music geek more than once in the past, I was still interested.
Coming out of the wake of the Hip-hop parody that was License to Ill (Def Jam, 1986), The Beastie Boys surprised everyone with the sample-heavy psychedelia of Paul’s Boutique (Capitol, 1989). Upon its initial release, the record’s public response could be described as “doom” for The Beastie Boys’ career, but over the years it has proven itself one of the most important records of its time, and possibly the most creative sample-based record ever made.
The Beastie Boys were seemingly riding high after their many tours supporting License to Ill. On the contrary, they were ready for a break and ready to get paid, but their bosses at Def Jam were not about to offer them either of these. The suits neuvo there were stuck in a cashless lurch with their newly minted distribution deal with Columbia and anxious for a new record from the Beasties. This would not do. So, our heroes bounced to the Left Coast, found some new friends, some new collaborators, a lawyer, and a new label. Finally paid by a sweet advance from Capitol, the boys were set to blow off some steam and start work on what would become their undisputed masterpiece.
While the Beastie Boys were sorting out their post-License to Ill lives, a loose-knit group of DJs and producers was busy creating the soundtrack to their next era. Among these were John King and Simpson (The Dust Brothers), Matt Dike (DJ, promoter, Delicious Vinyl founder), and Mario Caldato Jr. (studio engineer). Paul’s Boutique would eventually include the music of many — real (?) and sampled.
Dan LeRoy’s book gets at how this all came together, and — it’s an interesting and illuminating read about a particularly mysterious time in the Beasties’ history. LeRoy’s insightful epilogue regarding nostalgia is also not to be missed.
Say what you will about The Beastie Boys, but Paul’s Boutique is the record that synced their placement in the alphabet and their placement among music legends: right between The Beach Boys (Pet Sounds) and The Beatles (Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band).
Not unlike Paul’s Boutique, My Bloody Valentine’s Loveless (Creation, 1990) is widely considered — and rightfully so — one of the most important and influential records of the 90s. Also like Paul’s Boutique, its making is shroud in rumor. Such myths (e.g., that it cost half a million dollars to record and bankrupt their label Creation only to be saved by Oasis, Kevin Shield’s notorious studio meticulousness, that there are thousands of guitar overdubs, etc.) are either clarified or dispelled herein.
Mike McGonigal does some digging for the roots of the signature My Bloody Valentine sound that was refined on Loveless and defined an era and countless imitators (also mentioning such worthy influences as Sigur Rós, Mogwai, M83, and Caribou, but spending a disproportionate number of pages on Rafael Toral), but how he went the whole book without mentioning Robert Hampson, I do not know. He does warn that writing about this record can make you “start believing it’s the most transcendent record ever,” and that “it’s too easy for this album to turn you into a pretentious twat. Be very careful!!!” Thankfully, he avoids hyperbole except where appropriate and taps into why this beautiful wall of guitar noise remains the touchstone that it is.
These two books pull back the curtain on their respective subjects, giving us a glimpse behind the mystery surrounding both. So, if you’ve been that drunken, hand-waving music geek or know someone who has, these two books (as well as the rest of Continuum’s 33 1/3 Series, including books on Reign in Blood by Slayer, Daydream Nation by Sonic Youth, …Endtroducing by DJ Shadow, Unknown Pleasures by Joy Division, Led Zepplin IV, Bee Thousand by Guided by Voices, among many others) will help explain the phenomenon.
Now if I could just convince David Barker to let me do one… (Right?)
—
I cannot resist adding the video for My Bloody Valentine’s “To Here Knows When” (runtime: 4:43) from which the cover art for Loveless was gleaned. It’s absolutely perfect.
Naked Raygun: Combat Rock
Melodic punk rock with strong views and a solid spine might not be a rare commodity, but it sure doesn’t come around like this very often. Naked Raygun has consistently taken the punk sound to new places. They are as catchy as they are aggressive, as loud as they are intelligent, and as fun as they are serious.
Steve Albini once said of Chicago that “things like music, art, and other creative pursuits tend to be done as passions and for camaraderie rather than as careers. Careerism brings with it an ugly insincerity and conservatism.” That’s not to say that sincere music doesn’t come from other places, but punk rock from the Midwest (e.g., Hüsker Dü, Jesus Lizard, Albini’s own Big Black, et al.) tends to be very serious. Naked Raygun is no exception.
Emerging from Chicago in 1981, Naked Raygun took cues from the art-punk of Gang of Four and Wire, but retained a more confrontational attitude. The core members — singer Jeff Pezzati, bass player Pierre Kezdy, drummer Eric Spicer, and guitarist John Haggerty (future Big Black member Santiago Durango played with them early on and Bill Stephens stepped in to replace Haggerty for the final record) — soldiered through the fickle music industry until 1991, only to return in 2006 to a fan base hungry for their brand of war-torn punk rock. I caught up with Eric Spicer to talk about Naked Raygun past, present, and future.
Roy Christopher: You guys planned to reunite for Chicago’s annual punk festival in 2006, but stayed together afterward. What about the show prompted the reunion and what kept you together after?
Eric Spicer: Yes, we played Riot Fest 2006. I saw the line up for RF 2005 and thought, “Wow, that’s really cool.” I didn’t get to go to either of the shows for whatever reason, but I liked the idea. I got in touch with Mike, the promoter. I asked him if he would be interested in having Naked Raygun play the next year. He got back to me right away and said, “Hell Yes.” I told him that we hadn’t played out in a long time and I wasn’t sure if anyone remembered us. Keep in mind that after our reunion show in 97, I was totally out of the music scene, and since we hadn’t played for such a long time, I expected Naked Raygun to be a lost memory. Mike said not to worry about it! So, I got in touch with Pierre and Bill. It took a while to nail Jeff down. Eventually we got our collective shit together and played RF 2006. We knew that if we were going to play RF 2006, we’d need to practice a lot, so we thought why not play some shows after that? We got along with Mike and eventually asked him to manage us. It’s worked out well. We’ve played a bunch of shows and did a West Coast tour.
We picked up where we left off, as far as the line up goes: Jeff, Pierre, Bill, and me.
RC: What’s keeping John Haggerty from returning to the fold?
ES: I don’t know what’s up with John. I called him a couple of times before the documentary DVD was released. We wanted him to be a part of it, but he wouldn’t have anything to do with it. He has some deep-seated problems from long ago that primarily have to do with money. I tried to tell him he should get over it, none of us ever made any money playing in this band anyway. He has his issues and won’t return my phone calls.
RC: With the web in full effect these days, how are things different now than they were when you guys split?
ES: Ah yes, The World Wide Web… For the most part, I think it’s very cool. MySpace in particular. I’ve been in touch with people I haven’t heard from in years. And the instant accessibility is amazing, that’s probably the biggest thing. Anyone can just Google your name and contact you with a few mouse clicks. I really haven’t had any bad experiences online. The one difference is that when a band has a show booked, they just put out a bulletin or post flyers on friends pages. I can remember me and Camilo sitting in the back of a Chicago bus with flyers, glue, and a pint of whiskey. We would get hammered and put up flyers. Those were good times.
RC: Is Punk dead?
ES: I imagine you snickering as you wrote this question, Roy. As we all know, “Punk” was a media term attached to a sub-genre of late 70’s and early 80’s music. Music that I love and still listen to today. Is it dead? I don’t think so. There are lots of bands out there that are making some really good music that are influenced by Punk. Rise Against is a great band. They are some of the most ethical and socially conscious guys you’ll meet, as well as good guys and personal friends of mine. Rancid is one of my favorite bands. Tim Armstrong, the singer, wrote and produced songs for Pink. They are actually pretty good songs. Is he any less “Punk”? I guess what I’m thinking is that Punk is more spirit than anything else. There was a bowling alley in Chicago called the Fire Side Bowl that used to let Punk bands play there. Alkaline Trio, Fall Out Boy and Rise Against all played there. They’re all very popular, but if you asked them whom they listened to growing up, it would be a list of Punk bands.
RC: Is there new Naked Raygun material in the works?
ES: I sure hope so. We told each other that we would work on new stuff. It’s hard in the sense that we don’t want to write songs that suck, and anything new that’s released will be held up and compared to everything else we ever wrote. Know what I mean? I’m sure we will have something new out in the not too distant future.
RC: What’s next?
ES: I don’t know. Getting this band together for anything is like herding cats. It’s tough, ya know? We all have jobs, wives, and children. And we’re not twenty-years old anymore. I would love to quit my job like I used to, tour the East coast and then fly over to Europe for a two-month tour. That’s just not possible, it takes a lot of planning and is a complete logistical nightmare. Hopefully we’ll play some shows out East this fall, maybe play Chicago later this year, get back out West soon, and I’ll buy a gun and a longer rope and get the strays into the recording studio.
Radio Silence: The Salad Days of American Hardcore
In the early eighties, American hardcore brought extra speed and confrontation to the DIY punk-rock game. Radio Silence: A Selected Visual History of American Hardcore Music (MTV Press) documents a big chunk of the beginnings of this genre and its culture. Authors Nathan Nedorostek and Anthony Pappalardo opened up their archives of letters, original artwork, records, tapes, fliers, t-shirts, zines, and photographs — all the the sacred ephemera of the movement. Continue reading “Radio Silence: The Salad Days of American Hardcore”