In a far more timely episode than in my post about the nominees announcement, I bring you sort of, kind of, semi-breaking news. The 2022 Rock and Roll Hall of Fame inductees!
Look, I know there are far more pressing, important, newsworthy, debate-worthy topics right now. I also know there are far more depressing, scary, terrible things we could be discussing. How about rock and roll and a committee of propped-up Judgy Judgersons judging people's art and influence to make grand decisions about their merit for inclusion in a special club of artists? Sounds like the right amount of light fare to me!
So . . . it should be pretty fresh in your minds whom the nominees were. Who got in?
Let's start with who did not get the nod.
Beck didn't get in! Wow. I'm sure somewhere out there some yuk-yuk has a "Beck, Loser" joke, but I won't make it. Anyway, I called Beck a "lock" in my predictions, and boy, was I wrong. Everybody's got to learn sometime. I've heard some speculate that he's still young and active enough that the Hall wanted to wait a while, but the Chili Peppers got in a decade ago, and they put a chart-topping album out last month. Anyway, where's it's at for Beck is on the waiting list.
MC5 and the New York Dolls. Eventually the red carpet leading into the hall will be large enough to have fringe, and that's what protopunk is considered, but it will be a while until they kick out what jams these guys' passage into the RnRHoF.
A Tribe Called Quest. Sorry, Z. I'm sure they aren't buggin' out about this scenario, and I'm sure the Hall will find a way to let them in. Not as first-balloters.
Kate Bush, Dionne Warwick, Fela Kuti. Nothing clever here. I thought Ms. Warwick was in, but then again, I thought she was already in when she got nominated last year. Oh, well.
Rage Against the Machine. Morello on the committee, as it turns out, doesn't turn the tide. At least you gheorghies who are seeing them play in August may see some added... rage.
Devo. It's the long, uphill trudge to see these lovable nerds get in. I'll still fight the fight, but it may not ever happen. The myth that all they did was "Whip It" is exactly that.
And now . . . drum roll, please.
Who got in?
Well, Dolly Parton did. If Donny and Marie are a little bit country and a little bit rock and roll, well, Dolly's a whole hell of a lot the former and not so much the latter. That was the mini-controversy that popped up when she gracefully bowed out and the Hall gracelessly kept her on the ballot. Eh... she's awesome, and she said she will accept the induction, anyway. (Fast fact: she got into the Country Music Hall of Fame 23 years ago.) Listen: Everyone knows "Jolene," "9 to 5," and "Islands in the Stream," but don't sleep on pop pleasure like 1977's "Here You Come Again."
Duran Duran! Yes. I enjoyed this band when they first hit US radio stations and MTV when I was 12. I played them loudly from the fraternity house suite when their compilation CD Decadewas released in 1989. And took heat for it. I liked their "comeback album" . . . which was way back in 1993. Hell, I still enjoy their tunes. I will say that their cover of "911 Is a Joke" should be buried deep, deep in a mud hole never to be excavated. I'm psyched for this selection. Fast Fact: their name comes from the villain in the movie Barbarella, best known for an inane outer space plot and Jane Fonda nudity. Listen: All the hits remain fun for me to hear, but even more enjoyable is digging into lesser knowns like "Careless Memories," "The Chauffeur," "New Religion," and "Shadows on Your Side."
Eurythmics. Also happy for them, and I didn't even see it coming. They're both brilliant artists, writers, producers, musicians. I thought the Eurythmics proper catalog might be light, but who am I to disagree? Listen: "Would I Lie to You?" and "Here Comes the Rain Again"; but really, do this. Turn your volume up. Like high. And play "Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)." Here that bass drum and keys, followed quickly by everyone's first introduction to Annie Lennox's voice. And imagine that with her spiky red hair, that video threw everyone way off in 1983. Whoa. Actually, don't imagine it; watch it below. Loud.
Pat Benatar. Hell yes. She came on the scene with "Hit Me with Your Best Shot," and she was relentless for most of the 80's. Her look was mimicked by high school girls on a level higher than Cyndi, higher than Belinda, only exceeded by Madonna. The Brooklyn-born artist formerly known as Patricia Mae Andrzejewski is inducted with her bandmate, co-writer, and husband, Neil Geraldo. You want to read a random (cool) rise to fame?
Benatar trained as a coloratura with plans to attend the Juilliard School, but decided instead to pursue health education at Stony Brook University.
At 19, after one year at Stony Brook, she dropped out to marry her first husband, high school sweetheart Dennis Benatar, a U.S. Army draftee who was stationed at Fort Lee, Virginia, starting in 1973.
Pat Benatar worked as a bank teller near Richmond, Virginia. She quit her job to pursue a singing career after being inspired by a Liza Minnelli concert she saw in Richmond.
She had a gig at a Holiday Inn and got a job as a singing waitress at a nightclub named the Roaring Twenties. The band gained in popularity and was the subject of a never-aired PBS special. Her last significant gig in Richmond was a two-hour performance at Thomas Jefferson High School.
Dennis was discharged from the Army and the couple moved to New York in May 1975 so Pat could pursue a singing career. Benatar performed at an amateur night at the comedy club Catch a Rising Star in New York.
In late 1975 she landed the part of Zephyr in Harry Chapin's futuristic rock musical, The Zinger, which ran for a month in 1976 at the Performing Arts Foundation's Playhouse in Huntington Station, Long Island.
Halloween 1977 proved a pivotal night in Benatar's early, spandexed stage persona. She entered a Halloween contest at the Café Figaro in Greenwich Village dressed as a character from the film Cat-Women of the Moon. Later that evening, she went onstage at Catch a Rising Star still in costume.
Between appearances at Catch a Rising Star, she recorded commercial jingles for Pepsi-Cola and a number of regional brands. She headlined New York City's Tramps nightclub over four days in spring 1978, where her performance was heard by representatives from several record companies. She was signed to Chrysalis Records by co-founder Terry Ellis the following week.
Pat and Dennis Benatar divorced shortly after that, although she kept his surname.
And then she became a star. So awesome.
Listen: "Heartbreaker," "Fire and Ice," "Treat Me Right," "Hit Me with Your Best Shot," (all four of these songs have identical lyrical content... you're a bad dude, don't mess me up) and "Hell Is for Children." Oh, also, the answer to the trivia question I asked in the last post that nobody read and/or cares about: "I love Pat Benatar, and she's hit for hit with Mellencamp, who got in 15 years ago. Including what tune they both recorded for a hit???
"I Need a Lover." Come on.
Carly Simon. Ah, the anticipation. Carly Simon is cool, and the thought is that she completes sort of a triumvirate of Joni Mitchell and 2021 inductee Carole King. I like Carly Simon well enough. I like her song "Jesse" more than my younger self would allow. I do like that she and James Taylor were married as they were cranking out their biggest hits. I sort of like their Top 10 duet rendition of a particular American standard, though I love the version below with all my heart:
She also sang what I consider a Top 5 Bond theme songs, as paired with Marvin Hamlisch's killer music. I think it's up there with "Live and Let Die," "Goldfinger," "All Time High," and . . wait for it . . . "A View to a Kill" by Duran Duran! Two Bond themists in one class! Brilliant. (It edges out "For Your Eyes Only" and "Skyfall.") Anyway, there is only one way to hear "Nobody Does It Better": by watching this clip followed immediately by this clip. I looked and couldn't find one clip with the whole bit.
Anywho, what you most know Carly Simon for is her international chart-topping hit "You're So Vain." Much has been written about this tune, and it's a dandy of a song. The mystery behind the clever "who's it about?" embedded within the lyrics... unrivaled. (As was the album cover, paired with its title No Secrets. Clever girl.) Simon even took to revealing one letter in the subject's name per year for a while. And then the just gave up and divulged what most people had guessed. Hey there, Warren Beatty. Anyway, when this song pops on the hi-fi, I always ask folks a different trivia question: Who sang back-up in the chorus? Listen for it. Answer below.
Eminem. A very different rise to fame than Pat Benatar's, but equally fascinating. I called this one a lock, and this time I was correct. If you had told me 20-some years ago that he'd be a lock? Slim Shady? This reverent institution? Hell, Run-D.M.C. wasn't even in the Hall then! (2009.) But now? Well.... the Hall would be so empty without him, right? Listen: You already know. And while the two LP albums are tip-top, I always think of Teej when I hear "Just Lose It," and how he commented in this space that Marshall Mathers had gone off the deep end. Um... also... and you can't make this shit up... he did a cover of "Mockingbird"... in his way. Wow.
Lionel Richie. Hello... it's this guy you were looking for. Look, I don't know how you can completely, thoroughly separate the man from his former band and their all-star output, but that's what the Hall was asked to do. Solo performer content only. Yeah, right, It's like asking for something to be stricken from the record. It's in my brain, man! And "Sail On" is probably among Top 10 f-u breakup songs of all time. ("You're So Vain" and "Hell Is for Children" might make the list as well.) Anyway, listen to the Commodores first, but then dig back into 80's chart-toppers from the man, the myth, the legendary Lionel. Listen: "Running with the Night," "You Are," "Truly," "Stuck On You," and of course, for old times' sake, "All Night Long." Tom bo li de say de moi ya. Yeah, jambo jumbo.
Judas Priest. Judas Fucking Priest. This would be fantastic except for one thing. They gave them the LL Cool J side door treatment. I repeat: The Award for Musical Excellence shall be given to artists, musicians, songwriters and producers whose originality and influence creating music have had a dramatic impact on music. Crap. I have told you this and told you this. Anyway, it's worth cranking some Priest and giving the Hall the finger. And the PMRC. And Beavis. And Butt-Head. Listen: "Living After Midnight," "The Hellion/Electric Eye," "The Sentinel," "Screaming for Vengeance," "Heading Out to the Highway," and the MTV classic "You've Got Another Thing Coming," and of course . . .
How'd I do this go-around?
So I got 4 of 8, except I'm giving myself Dolly Parton based on what I wrote and what ensued. And since Priest wasn't given the front door treatment, I'm calling that one an N/A. 5 of 7. So what, I'm an easy grader.
To close it out, here's the answer to the other trivia question, the one about who sings along with Carly in the chorus on "You're So Vain." Can you hear it?
Mick Jagger. The one and only. I can't listen to this song and not hear him any more.
This one slipped past me in February, not sure why. I'm usually far more prompt about all things Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. No matter . . . the induction announcement is in a couple of weeks, so there's still time. For me to tell you about it, for you to vote.
The following nominees were announced as the pool of candidates for Rock Hall inclusion this year:
Beck
Pat Benatar
Kate Bush
Devo
Duran Duran
Eminem
Eurythmics
Judas Priest
Fela Kuti
MC5
New York Dolls
Dolly Parton
Rage Against the Machine
Lionel Richie
Carly Simon
A Tribe Called Quest
Dionne Warwick
Whom do you like?
I'll tell you whom the Hall doesn't like: The MC5. This is their sixth (6th) nomination. And I doubt they get in now, unless the RnRHoF opens a side door for them. Early influence or something.
Dolly Parton is the talk of the lot. She graciously bowed out of her nomination, saying she didn't feel she'd earned the right to be in this HoF and that she didn't want to split votes. And then the Hall said sorry, but we're still including you. Way to go, people.
If I were picking, here's my ballot.
Beck
Pat Benatar
Devo
Duran Duran
Eminem
Judas Priest
Rage Against the Machine
A Tribe Called Quest
But I don't get a vote . . . wait a minute, I do! So do you! Every day! Go here and cast a ballot once daily.
Below are my predictions. I had last year's class pegged for the most part, but I don't have as good a bead this go-around. Why's that, you ask?
Dolly Parton may well get the nod, anyway. Stupid.
This pool has very little ethnic diversity, so Dionne Warwick and Lionel Richie's chances improve. They're both solid picks, but (a) it seems like Diana Ross would get in first, even though she sucks and the Hall is still pissed she blew them off when the Supremes were inducted in '88 (though that wasn't the worst performance that night) and (b) Richie minus his killer Commodores work is slightly thin. But you never know.
This pool has very little gender diversity, so Warwick's and Pat Benatar's chances improve. I love Pat Benatar, and she's hit for hit with Mellencamp, who got in 15 years ago. (Including what tune they both recorded for a hit? Answers below.) Anyway, women are finally starting to get their due in the Hall, and that helps her. But you never know.
Rage has a super thin catalog, but they were a force to be reckoned with, once upon a time. Oh, and Tom Morello is on the nominating committee. Interesting.
Eminem is a lock. Would the Hall dare usher in two hip-hop acts? They did last year . . . sort of. Jay-Z was inducted, as was LL . . . through the side door: The Award for Musical Excellence shall be given to artists, musicians, songwriters and producers whose originality and influence creating music have had a dramatic impact on music. G:TB readers know how I feel about that bullshit. So maybe Tribe gets in. Front door, please. We shall see, Z.
My locks include the aforementioned Slim Shady plus Beck, and Duran Duran, surprisingly. They have the catalog, the staying power, the fan base, and the hair. Rob agrees with me.
The kid who played Ron Weasley in the Harry Potter movies now plays a gangster in the TV show “Snatch.” It’s extremely loosely based on the movie “Snatch”—many grimy Britons, a little boxing, and lots of crime. It’s ultimately a comedy though, so all the capers go pear-shaped and the main characters are constantly scrambling to avoid getting nicked by the polis or turned over by bigger sharks. It’s a fun 47 minute diversion from reality. Sony’s American subsidiary produces the show so no one’s accent is so thick that you need subtitles to decipher what they’re saying. You can stream it for free on Crackle.
2. Go Ahead in the Rain
I’m trying to read more this year so I read “Go Ahead in the Rain” by Hanif Abdurraqib. It’s a short and well-written read about A Tribe Called Quest, their music and their impact on the author’s life. Sometimes it’s an album review, sometimes it’s a history lesson. Other times it’s an autobiography, cultural commentary on the meaning of everything. Perhaps most uniquely, in a few places it’s letters written directly to individual band members. It won’t change your life but I recommend it if you like Tribe, hiphop, music, or good writing.
3. Another playlist for Connell
Abdurraqib drops tons of 1990’s music references in his book, so much so that I became motivated to dig through the crates and put together another playlist for Connell. I told Connell I would do this last summer but I didn’t because I’m simultaneously lazy and overworked. But here it is, better late than never. Rather than go “bangin old school” I went “smoothed-out old school.” Enjoy.
As much as I enjoy looking at Teedge on a Rascal scooter, we need some new filler purely on an interim basis. Keep an eye out for a W&M alumnus in the video below (blink and you'll miss him).
Elmo got his and he did Phife justice. Merry Gheorghemas!
Let's be honest, friends. 2016, by so many measures, sucks. I think we're all glad that it's nearly over. But in every dark cloud, there's at least some silver lining. For me and Zman, that shine was spelled the same way, as the following conversation (edited for comprehension) details. I'm the one with the stylish italics: Yo, Z, what's the best thing to come out of the last few weeks of 2016?
The best thing to come out of the last few weeks of 2016, and maybe all of 2016, and maybe even farther back than that, is A Tribe Called Quest's new album "We Got It from Here... Thank You 4 Your Service." It's their first album in 18 years and boy could I use it. As I said here, "Phife's death bums me out. We'll never get another ATCQ album." So this was a ray of sunshine in an otherwise gloomy week. We got another Tribe album and it's damn good!
yo microphone check one, two, what is this
Funny you should bring up Tribe, 'cause I was going to go with the start of the Tribe hoops season, which happens to be today. Tony Shaver's boys take on Bridgewater to kick off the 2016-17 campaign. The real action tips off on Monday, though, when Omar Prewitt returns home to the Bluegrass State to lead the Tribe against Louisville. W&M shocked N.C. State in last year's season-opener. I'm betting that the result is slightly different this time. Speaking of slightly different, new season, new team. Who's your pick for Tribe MVP?
You aren't going to believe this but I think it's Donald Trump. This album is more overtly political than previous ones and it's definitely influenced by the themes of the 2016 campaign. Check out "We The People" for example.
That's some golden age conscious stuff right there. Chuck D and KRS-ONE have this on repeat. And man is it nice to hear that old Q-Tip snare and high-hat.
I don't know if Omar gets down with Q-Tip (guess: he does), but if we're talking about basketball MVPs, the 6'7" senior is clearly W&M's leading man. The 2015-16 first-team All-CAA selection averaged 17.8 points per game on 49.1% shooting last season, and ranks 13th in Tribe hoops history with 1,361 points.
Prewitt's going to have to carry a big leadership load this year, too, as one of only two seniors on the roster. W&M will miss graduated do-everything forward Terry Tarpey immensely. The 2015-16 CAA Defensive Player of the Year averaged double digit points, and led the team in rebounds, blocks, and steals. There's never been a player like him in W&M's long (if not necessarily distinguished) hoops history. He's irreplaceable as a source of energy and intensity. And Sean Sheldon's size and improved offensive skill will be difficult for the Wrens to replicate in the post. They're going to need a couple of new dudes to step way up. But that's true for both Tribes, isn't it?
Phife's death obviously means the end of ATCQ as we know it, I don't think anyone can step up and fill his shoes. Jarobi actually spits a few verses on this album (for the first time ever) but he can't replace Phife. No one can. You can't have a Tribe album without him. And his last two verses are memorable. The penultimate is a duo with Kendrick Lamar called "Conrad Tokyo" and it's predictably excellent.
Phife waded into politics in his first recorded verse ("Mr. Dinkins won't you please be our mayor?") so it's fitting that he offered up one last round of social commentary. His last song, "The Donald," is bittersweet--his verse is entirely braggadocio, bookended by a respectful introduction from Busta Rhymes and a props-filled outro from Q-Tip. Tip and Phife were friends for something like 40 years and it feels like Tip constructed this song as an homage to his oldest friend. This is the last ATCQ song we'll ever hear for the first time and I think Q-Tip wanted it that way.
Jeez, it's getting dusty in here. On a lighter note, the samples on this album are pretty risky in spots. The Ooompa Loompa song from "Willy Wonka," I think some dialogue from "Young Frankenstein," and ... "Benny and the Jets"?!? Sure, Biz Markie covers this song but it doesn't seem to lend itself to a hot beat. Credit Q-Tip's genius as a producer to turn an ancient Elton John song into a modern banger. "Solid Wall of Sound" takes big risks and they pay off.
Did Tribe hoops take any risks this year that need to pay off big in order to get that ever-elusive NCAA bid?
this makes me happy
If you consider playing with five guards and no post defense a risk, I guess they did, or will. Shaver's teams can fill it up - that's never been an issue, and it won't be this year, with Prewitt, fellow senior Daniel Dixon, and juniors Greg Malinowski, Connor Burchfield, and David Cohn all ready, willing, and able to shoot the ball. Cohn averaged nearly 5 assists a game with 3:1 assist to turnover ratio last year. With another season under his belt, he'll be one of the best true point guards in the CAA. The 6'6" Malinowksi's versatility and athleticism will be a big key as Shaver seeks a consistent third option behind the two seniors. So we've got the scoring covered. The rebounding and defense, well, that's a bit of a different story. 6'9" junior Jack Whitman will get most of the early minutes, but he's on the thin side, and he's never put up more than 2.7 rebounds per game. Sophomore sensation Hunter Seacat (!) is a big body (and only a sensation because of his name) who showed some flashes in limited action last year, but he'll have to take a big step up to help fill Sheldon's role. 6'10", 250-lb freshman Nathan Knight is raw, but he's big and physical, and if he can adapt to the college game, he'll make an impression. Game remains the same, though, for the Tribe. When we shoot the ball well, we can beat anybody. When we go a little cold, we can lose ugly. Last year's 91-63 loss to Hofstra says hello. So what's your takeaway? Does the new Tribe record herald a turning point, or is it just one bright point in an otherwise bleakening landscape? And how does ATCQ relate to a Tribe ball quest?
I really think it's a turning point. Tribe are heroes to a lot of younger MCs and I guarantee this album will be repeatedly listened to and dissected by oldheads and youngheads alike. I think it will inspire other rappers to couple out-of-left-field production with left-of-center lyrics leading to a renaissance of conscious political hiphop. I think we've had enough coke and codeine rhymes for now.
ATCQ was four guys who grew up together and used their friendship as a foundation to create some of the best hiphop ever. They had tremendous early success but internal strife led to music of lesser quality. With this album they've returned to greatness one last time. If Tribe hoops can mimic this within the microcosm of a basketball season they could win the CAA tourney and finally make the big dance. It would be a turning point for both Tribes, I guess.
One other potential turning point could be for Andre 3000 to build on his cameo verse on this record and join ATCQ as Questlove suggested. I can't fully wrap my head around that but I think it would work. Sort of like getting a transfer student who turns into a major contributor.
Kinda like David Cohn last year, then. As for the W&M Tribe, lots of observers like them to contend again in the CAA. Tony Shaver's teams have recorded 20 wins or more in three consecutive seasons. A fourth would be unprecedented (I think. Not gonna look it up.). They'll play a lot of 81-77 games this year, and a couple of 82-55 contests (both ways). The league's coaches and media folks picked W&M to finish third, which is a statement of respect for Shaver as much as anything else. There are a bunch of teams that have a shot this year, including defending champion UNCW, Hofstra, talented Towson, and much-improved College of Charleston. Me, I think third's a bit too high, but I'll tip the Tribe for a first-round bye. (Q-Tip can have that rhyme for free.) But I'll go one better. The universe owes us some happy. And #1bid4wmtribe would make a lot of people happy - even folks with no affiliation to W&M. It's happening this year. As the Tribe flies high like a dove.
According to numerous sources on the interweb, Dave Chappelle will be hosting Saturday Night Live on November 12 with musical guest A Tribe Called Quest. Whoa. In celebration of that, enjoy:
I didn't just consume a bunch of western media on my trip to Japan, I consumed a lot of culture, albeit not as much as I wanted to. I missed my connecting flight from San Francisco to Osaka and had to spend the night in San Francisco. As a result, my jetlag acclimation/cultural exposure day was mostly consumed by my flight the next day. I never had a big block of free time to travel around the prefecture, so I mostly made brief field trips around my hotel. This limited my cultural exposure to shopping centers and train stations, but I think I developed a fair understanding of day-to-day life in the Kansei region based on what stores stock and thus what people buy. Here are my favorite mundane aspects of southern Japanese culture.
It's perfectly acceptable to carry, and use, a washcloth in public
Osaka is really fucking hot and humid in the summer. So much so that even people from India travel to Osaka and step outside from the airport into the Osaka air for the first time they say "Oh hell no, this shit is way too hot and humid." At least that's what my cabbie said.
It's so hot that everyone sweats their asses off constantly, even inside. Women carry fans and parasols. Men carry washcloths, sometimes even bar towels, everywhere including the office. It's remarkably common to be in a meeting with ten other sweaty dudes, all wiping their faces with small hunks of terrycloth. Aside from Jerry Tarkanian, John Thompson and Ford Prefect, you just don't see towels in the workplace.
After sitting in two days of meetings like this I went to the mall across from my hotel and got myself one of these washcloths. They're technically considered a handkerchief--one side of the washcloth has this gauzy cotton material called tenugui sewn onto it, but it's still a washcloth. Here's mine.
Yes, those are bears. Yes, one of those bears has "ZZZ" next to him indicating that he's asleep--I guess the bear doesn't speak Japanese because he doesn't snore in katakana symbols. And yes, another of those bears is wearing a small green fedora. All my other choices were more preposterous, this is what you get for ¥400.
Anyway, I can't say enough good things about these super-absorbant handkerchiefs and being in a place where it's socially acceptable to constantly mop your forehead with one.
Everything is connected by underground tunnels
Because it's so stupidly hot in Osaka in the summer, they built a series of tunnels to connect just about every important location. Sort of like how places like Montreal and Rochester have tunnels to avoid the winter wind and snow, Osaka has tunnels to avoid the summer humidity sun. Now, navigating these tunnels is no bargain. Here's an example.
The main tributaries mercifully have English signage and my iPhone worked everywhere (thank god for Google maps), so I was able to avoid the scorching sun without getting hideously lost. Unfortunately the tunnels are not air conditioned so I still had to constantly wipe my face with my bear washcloth. Nevertheless, being able to get around completely underground is a source of pride among Osakans, and when I told one of my friends that I traveled to a venue over a mile away and back using only the tunnels, he smiled and said he was proud of me. He then fed me some ridiculous food and drink, which I'll describe another time.
They still have record stores
There was a Tower Records 50 feet from my hotel! And it sold actual records! And it had a whole section dedicated to A Tribe Called Quest!
It also had a very very deep selection of hiphop CDs. Here's just a snapshot from the K's:
KMD, Kool G Rap, Kool Keith, Kool Moe Dee and Kurtis Blow!?! I don't know if there's a record store in Brooklyn that has a CD in stock for all of these artists. I was impressed.
The 69 bus is everywhere
Or so it felt. I saw these bus stops all over the place.
The bathrooms are fantastic and the toilets are divine
Japan is spotless. No litter, no gum on the sidewalk, no dog shit on the curb. Immaculate. This includes all the bathrooms, including public bathrooms at the train station. I have suffered through circumstances requiring me to move my bowels at the old Yankee Stadium, an Amtrak Northeast Corridor train, and the worst gas station bathroom in Cape Cod (even Ryan Lochte wouldn't shit there--filthy, no light, the door had no knob mechanism so it wouldn't close, and no toilet paper (which I discovered after I had shat my emergency shit, so I had to wipe with the discarded Marlboro Reds box I found on the floor--had Marlin been there I would've used my underpants but it didn't occur to me at the time).
By contrast, defecating in Japan is a pleasure. Think of the nicest bathroom you've ever used. That's what they're all like. But better. The toilets all have features to make shitting better. They have a fan that sucks away shitty smells and a noisemaker that covers your shitty noises. They have heated seats. And most importantly, they have a washlet, a faucet that pops out of the seat and washes your bung with warm water. It's like taking a shower after every shit, and it's divine. The toilets also have fans to blow you dry after the washlet does its thing, but the fans are often too weak to really dry you so you still need some TP to finish up.
We're redoing zbathroom soon and I'm getting one of these toilets. That's how life-changing they are (and who knew we'd use the "toto asswash" label again?). Anyone who lives without a Toto toilet is a filthy animal.
They love the Simpsons
I don't know if that's true, but I saw these socks at a department store that carried stuff from Louis Vuitton, Gucci, Prada, and all those other fancy brands you see at high-end US malls.
They love sneakers
This wasn't a surprise. Tons of cool kicks. Here's a small sampling.
I should've bought those Takumi Sen joints but I didn't.
They love tchotchkes
Not Chochkie's, tchotchkes. Many stores have these things that look like bubblegum machines, but instead of bubblegum they dispense tchotchkes. For example, are you into Minions? They have a tchotchke machine for that:
Note that Dave, Tom, Jerry, Tim and Stuart (well, Stewart) are also the names of several of our brothers.
Are cats in beanies or babushkas more your thing? Japan has you covered:
It's a great way to get rid of your pocket change before you leave the country.
The greatest regret of my trip, and perhaps the past 10 years of my life, is that I used my last ¥100 coins buying Minions for zson and pink raccoons for zdaughter (they love Minions and raccoons, respectively) only to turn the corner (they have rows and rows of these things at Yodobashi Camera, which is a batshit crazy store deserving of its own post) to find this:
Sorry rob. Next time I'll get you some fingertip-sized flying squirrel tchotchkes.
As you may have read previously, Phife was working on a new album at the time of his death. I don't know if it will ever be released in its entirety, but the single "Nutshell" appeared on the internet yesterday. It features a beat by J Dilla, who died over 10 years ago. That my favorite hiphop song of 2016 features the work of two dead artists probably says something about the evolution (or lack of evolution) of my musical tastes. I think the brief interviews framing the song were recorded at a memorial event, while the "thank you" notes at the end were written by Phife. Here it is.
The internet is awash with obituaries, top 10 lists, tweets, hashtags, photoshopped photos and hosts of other social-media-centric things following Phife's death. I don't feel the need to add to this flotsam in the ether because I celebrate Phife's/ATCQ's music all the time. And instead of saying all of my goodbyes I'm going to continue to continue to do so.
I think society in general doesn't appreciate the great people doing great stuff all around us until they're gone. Not necessarily dead, but once they've stopped doing great stuff. For example, Stefan Edberg was the last true serve-and-volley player in tennis. After he retired I realized I would never get to watch his style ever again. Sure, Sampras and Rafter and Becker had serve-and-volley in their repertoire, but they didn't come to the net on every point. It felt like they took paradise and put up a parking lot, you know? So I promised myself that I would try to appreciate people and things more from then on.
Like Ghostface Killah. I blog about all his crazy weed-infused activities all the time because he's a great lyricist who does greatly crazy stuff.
I also try and find the time to appreciate Snoop Dogg. He has a new video series called "Planet Snoop" in which he narrates nature videos. You can find it on his MerryJane.com website. The first video debuted yesterday and it turns out that Snoop is a fan of G:TB. I say this because he spends his time appreciating rob. Seriously, here's Snoop rooting hard for rob in a fight with what I hope is a non-venomous snake. The language is a little coarse so keep the volume down at work.
So I encourage you to be more like Snoop and me--take the time to appreciate the things around you that make you happy while they're still around you. If all you do is write rhymes eat drink shit and bone without taking the time to admire, for example, the ill C-cups, then with all these trials and tribulations, yo, you'll been affected. So inhale the people around you like a breath of fresh air. You'll be better for it.
This is the first in what will likely be a series of one post about a few random things in bite-sized format. I've been meaning to write these up as individual posts but haven't been able to because:
I wrote about my wrist injury previously and TR suggested I post some post-surgery photos. Here's the final layer of bandages covering my bloody gash. TR's reaction: "Ew, hairy arms."
And here's the gash itself without stitches. The puckering is especially choice. So I have a puckered gash.
Finally, here's the screw that went into my gash.
The Ghostface reference to my fucked up writing hand brings me to:
2. Ghostface doesn't pay his legal bills.
It's been a while since I updated you on Ghostface's copyright issues. It doesn't seem like much happened substantively, probably because Ghostdini doesn't pay his legal bills. His lawyer (he of the AOL email address) moved to withdraw from representing Pretty Tone because The Kid hasn't paid for any of the work done to date. The judge complied so the Wallabee Champ doesn't have representation at the moment, at least not that I know of. 10-4 good buddy Tone got his RFP's up!
Speaking of rap-related legal disputes ...
3. Judge Englemayer plays his trill card, dismisses Z-Trip from Beastie Boys v. Monster Energy.
Judge Englemayer must've read a bunch of old GTB comments because he quoted me ... quoting the Beastie Boys. And he did so while granting Z-Trip's motion for summary judgment in the complaint brought against him by Monster Energy. His Honor concluded that "[i]n musical terms, Z-Trip can now, therefore, rest at least 'as cool as a cucumber in a bowl of hot sauce,' because Monster's Third-Part Complaint against him has 'got the rhyme and reason but no cause.' Beastie Boys, So Watcha Want (Capitol Records 1992)."
On the subject of trill and law enforcement ...
4. True Detective ended like that?
All that metaphysical psychedelic mumbo-jumbo ended like that? For real dough?!? That's not at all what I expected.
But you know what I did expect ...
5. Tribe hoops breaks your heart again.
You shouldn't let it. Yes, I have a somewhat irrational disdain for all things W&M, but there's something cool about never making the NCAA tournament. First and foremost W&M is an academic school whose athletes are students first and foremost. No one in the history of sports has attended W&M in order to boost their likelihood of becoming a pro athlete. W&M's inability to win a conference championship highlights its academic focus. And as soon as they make the tournament once they're in the same company as Houston Baptist and Prairie View. If Charlie Brown ever kicked the football he'd just be a baldheaded kid who never changes his shirt. Marls jokes aside, no one wants to be that guy?
And while we're talking Tribe,
6. I finally saw the Tribe Called Quest documentary.
It's fantastic, a must-see if you love Tribe, Native Tongues, 90's NY hiphop,or if you ever suffered through the experience of living with me. If none of the foregoing apply to you, the first half of the movie will establish why I've been continuously pumping their music for over 20 years.
Long-time readers know how much I love A Tribe Called Quest. Q-Tip and Busta Rhymes (formerly of Leaders of the New School, another member of the Native Tongues posse) released a new mixtape of old and new songs. It's like Gheorghemas came early!
As a special bonus, here's the video for "Thank You" which technically features Lil Wayne and Kanye West, although they add nothing.
A July Grantland article about A Tribe Called Quest prompted an e-mail from an old friend in which he noted that three tremendous albums were released on September 24, 1991: The Low End Theory, Nevermind, and Blood Sugar Sex Magik. A post regaling the twentieth anniversary of this sonically significant date is entirely necessary, but I can only do proper justice to one-third of this musical trifecta. Accordingly, I enlisted rob and Whitney to bring you today’s post, “On This Day In Music,” in which we each recall our memories surrounding the release of one of these albums.
Whitney:
1991 was a spectacular year in music. Every year there are great songs, great albums released. ’91 just had more than its fair share.
Just using September 24 of that year as a starting point, there are the three albums we highlight here PLUS Ceremony by The Cult, one of the critical turning points in Dave’s love/hate relationship with that band. (Dave is issuing a full post on Ceremony and its scars soon.) Within a three-week period, these albums were accompanied by Use Your Illusion I&II, The Pod, Badmotorfinger, and Apocalypse 91. (And Cool as Ice, but let’s forget about that.)
There were first albums of merit (Pearl Jam, Smashing Pumpkins, and especially Primus), even by bands that didn’t last long (Tupac, Live, Crash Test Dummies, Toad the Wet Sprocket, Spin Doctors, Matthew Sweet, Temple of the Dog).
There were bands’ final albums, or at least final decent albums (Pixies, Genesis, GN’R, Fishbone, Violent Femmes, Hoodoo Gurus, Random Idiots).
There was the first-ever Lollapalooza.
There were huge albums by huge artists, like Achtung Baby, Out of Time (which divided the fan base a tad), and Metallica. There were cheesy singles like “Life Is a Highway,” “I Touch Myself,” “Unbelievable,” “Just the Way It Is, Baby,” “Right Here, Right Now,” and “More Than Words.” Bryan Adams released the worst song of the year.
James Brown was freed. Shane MacGowan was booted. Freddy Mercury died.
There was hip-hop funny (“Pop Goes the Weasel,” “O.P.P.”) and not (O.G Original Gangster). Country was beginning its comeback, whether we liked it or not. And there was music people would come to call Shoegaze, or Britpop, or just indie (My Bloody Valentine, Teenage Fanclub, Blur).
Sting released an album, and Rob swooned. Then the BoDeans, then Crowded House. Our little buddy really danced his loafers off that year.
Talking Heads packed it in that year. So did The Replacements. As did N.W.A. And Men Without Hats. Van Hagar should’ve.
An older gent with a musical penchant recently told me he thought 1970 and 1984 were the most significant years in rock and roll. I had too many beers to remember exactly why. But make no mistake, 1991 was no slouch.
rob:
Since I'm the last of this trio to get around to finish his assignment (read: laziest - and in this company, that's noteworthy), I've not much to add to this introduction, other than to note that the great Theodore Geisel died on September 24, 1991, right around the time he was being celebrated in the music of Random Idiots. I think you'll find a great deal of commonality in our recollections and musings on why music means so much. Hope you enjoy.
zman: The Low End Theory
Kids have lots of favorites. Favorite books, favorite movies, favorite colors, favorite athletes, favorite dinosaurs, whatever. As I get older I find that I have few absolute favorites, perhaps because with age and experience comes an appreciation of nuance. As a result I don’t have a favorite author or book, band or song, TV show or movie. I can, however, say with complete assurance that my favorite album is The Low End Theory by A Tribe Called Quest.
Most people assume that I started listening to hiphop as an act of rebellion because I am a white kid from suburbia. To the contrary, I started listening to hiphop as an act of outright conformity. My high school was what is commonly referred to as “minority majority.” I’m not exactly sure how to explain the school’s racial olio, but a picture is said to be worth a thousand words. Here’s a page from my yearbook:
Probably a bit different from your “class officers” page. Also likely different from your high school: the top three singles players on our tennis team were, in order, a black kid, a Thai kid, and a kid with a turban. Not your typical squad.
I played doubles and hung out with the three other doubles guys: two Jewish kids and a giant Jamaican. We hit together regularly, were in all the same AP classes, and had similar tastes in music, cars, girls, and all the other stuff that’s important in northern New Jersey. We all agreed that People’s Instinctive Travels and the Paths of Rhythm was a mind-blowingly good album, that it was perhaps the greatest musical accomplishment ever committed to a fixed medium, and that Tribe’s next album would be a highwater mark in our lives. In retrospect, we were correct in at least two regards.
Travels is a fantastic album. I encourage you to go download it and listen to it now. I’ll wait.
Great stuff, right? It was unprecedented twenty-one years ago. Tribe wasn’t the first group to make jazz-influenced hiphop. De La Soul, Gang Starr, Main Source, Pete Rock and CL Smooth, and the Jungle Brothers all sampled jazzy stuff from time to time. And two of the most popular songs off the album aren’t jazzy at all: “Can I Kick It?” and “I Left My Wallet in El Segundo” . What Tribe did before anyone else, and arguably better than anyone else (fans of “Mecca and the Soul Brother” have a legit counterpoint here), was make silky smooth boom bap with conscious/positive lyrics. This created an entirely new musical niche now occupied by thinking man’s artists like Mos Def, Common, Talib Kweli, Little Brother, and The Roots.
So you can imagine how excited four tennis-playing nerdy rap nerds were to hear Tribe’s next album. My friend Jon, who looked startlingly like MC Serch (right down to the Jewfro), was the most on-top of the music world out of the foursome so he first determined the new album’s release date. And, in an effort to cement his musical superiority, on September 24th he cut out of school before lunch, bought the album, and listened to it so that he could be the first to opine on its greatness. Which he did, ad nauseum.
I bought the album after school. The local record store, coincidentally called Igor’s (pronounced Eye-gor’s) Records, was an early casualty of the big box boom, so I went to Sam Goody’s at the mall and bought The Low End Theory on cassette. I took back roads home so that I would have enough time to listen to the whole thing.
About three songs in I realized that I was going to have to listen several times to absorb it all. I neared home before getting through the tape so I drove aimlessly and listened. Then a song came on that was unlike anything I had heard before. When it was over I rewound and listened again. I repeated this process again. It turned out that this was the last song on the album, “Scenario.” I proclaimed its dopeness to myself, went home and listened to the whole album again on my Walkman. I knew that this album would be the soundtrack for the rest of the school year.
And it was. Everyone liked it, even the hippies who eschewed most rap in favor of classic rock and jam bands. It was perfect music for any situation that could be conjured up in the social microcosm of our high school. You could dance to it, hang out to it, party to it, drive to it, drink to it, smoke to it, earphones to it, whatever you want. And we did. I almost wore the tape out and then bought it on CD several times to replace lost/stolen copies. I still have two jewel cases for this album (but only one copy of the CD).
Theory stirs up nostalgia unlike any other record in my collection. For instance, when singing along with “Butter” it will always begin with “1992 senior year at Teaneck High” and the “Tracy” at the end of Phife’s list of skanky jumpoffs will always bear special emphasis in honor of my friend Tracy to whom we would point at that point in the song. When Charlie Brown asks “Who’s that?” in the middle of “Scenario” I will always think of my friend Adrian who wisely applied early and was accepted to Brown, allowing him to spend the rest of his high school career playing tennis and molesting girls, and to whom we accordingly pointed at this point in the song. “Scenario” conjures up tons of other memories as it was everyone’s jam, but the funniest could be my performance in the senior step show. That isn’t a typo – I once performed in a step show involving “Scenario”. When Q-Tip says “Optic presentation sizzles the retina” on “Check the Rhyme” I will always think of the time my friend Keith practically put his eye out drunkenly over-acting the line while singing along with the song. My friend Brian found true inspiration in the line “The aim is to achieve and succeed at 21” from “Jazz” and whenever the song came on in my 1983 Accord everyone threw their hands up for “Your Honda or your Beamer or your Legend or your Benz.”
The most ignored song on the album is “Vibes and Stuff,” and it deserves your attention.
It’s the quintessential Tribe song and showcases Q-Tip’s skills as a producer. Who else could combine a big boom bap beat with several discernably different high-hat sounds and seamlessly lay it over a Grant Green song without sounding contrived? How many other MC’s could compatibly flow with this track?
And the lyrics! Good lawd. Go read Tip’s first verse. It’s the opposite of everything Jay-Z ever said: crack dealers suck; if you battle Tip and win he’ll shake your hand and admit you’re better than him; he strives to make music that pleases the young and old alike; commercially successful rappers are phonies; communities must stick together for the betterment of all. Phife isn’t messing around either. “All I do is write rhymes eat drink shit and bone.” Exceedingly strong braggadocio.
The only song I skip is “The Infamous Date Rape,” mainly because no one wants to listen to a song where the chorus is “Classic example of a, a date rape,” it just isn’t a pleasant topic. Even Sublime’s radio-friendly song on the subject is unpleasant.
Theory held up well over the past 20 years. It is lyrically and musically more complex than lots of the garbage that comes out of the Dirty South (not this Dirty South) or much of the junk spun on the radio. It’s still great music for any situation. And the “positive” or “conscious” lyrics helped my friends and me muddle through and move past a veryweird time in our lives.
The Low End Theory will always be my favorite album, even 20 years from this date in music.
Whitney: Nevermind
“Guys, you gotta hear this band. They’re from Seattle.”
With that, our friend Mac cemented his place in my personal musical history as the guy who introduced me to Nirvana. Three of us followed him back into fraternity house room 306 and waited attentively with equal parts excited anticipation and skeptical doubt.
Mac was first and foremost a metalhead. He and his roommate were of the opposite build (Mac was nicknamed “2-D” for his slender frame; his roommate Kevin was “Fubsy”; as a pair they were called “10”), but of the same musical affinity. Their room generated the loudest and most aggressive musical emanations, a thrash sandwich between thin slices of alt-moping (Rob cranking The Stone Roses in the room to the left of them and Squeaky playing Ned’s Atomic Dustbin on the other side). I would wander in from time to time to satisfy the occasional need we all feel for some metal. My freshman roommate had broadened my horizons and introduced me to masterpieces like Kill ‘Em All and Blizzard of Ozz . . . and then he failed out after one year. Mac’s music collection filled the void.
And so I expected music to bang your head to, not mosh your ass off. Seems like a fine line there, but it’s not.
Instead . . . well, you know.
* * * *
If there is one word to describe Nirvana’s Nevermind album, it’s probably “hyperbole.” That has nothing to do with the content of the album and everything to do with the world’s reaction to and regard for the record, both in 1991 and 2011. This blogpost represents just one out of 10,000 Nevermind-related pieces to grace the world wide web in the past few weeks. Adding to the overkill isn’t what we usually do here, but in this case, it feels necessary.
The thing is, most of these tributes don’t actually delve into the music, not really. They lay up on the fairway of what the legacy of Nevermind was – what the effect and influence were and are. While that may be tempting since the impact on music’s landscape overshadows the 12+ songs on the album, ultimately it’s supposed to be about listening to music.
So go listen to Nevermind again.
Here’s what you already know:
Nevermind unseated Michael Jackson’s Dangerous album on top of the charts in early 1992 in the most symbolic changing of the cultural guard Billboard has ever generated.
The Grunge Era was then ushered in: punk attitude/punk guitars/pop melodies.
A flux of booming guitars, the Pacific northwest, flannel, and intentionally poor hygiene followed.
The world was never the same!
Here’s what you might not know:
The album borrows fairly liberally from its predecessors. You can hear Frank Black in the crooning/shrieking tandems. You can hear the Killing Joke song “Eighties” in “Come As You Are,” nearly note for note. (Check this out.) You can hear plenty of punk rock outfits throughout the album. These aren’t my revelations, these are Kurt Cobain’s acknowledgments.
Pearl Jam might owe Nirvana a debt of gratitude for opening the door to the mainstream, but certainly not for establishing the sound. Ten came out a month prior to Nevermind.
Kurt Cobain’s lyrics aren’t genius poetry fit to be studied in British grammar schools. As he told people, virtually every idiot who bothered to try to decipher his ramblings had transcribed them wrong, anyway. Listen to “In Bloom” for his disdain for the aforementioned idiots.
Nevermind is a really good record with some truly stand-out tracks. While seminal (to employ a rock-snob descriptor), it’s just neither as singular nor as revolutionary as the hype (original or 20-year) will lead you to believe.
I could talk more about the musical connections, from the Kingsmen-ish flub in “Polly” to the “Come As You Are” hat-tip in “Adam’s Song” years later to the Youngbloods to Weird Al. Or the foreshadowing of Kurt Cobain’s early demise. Or Dave Grohl being 10,000% better than Chad Channing (and this from a guy who boycotted Grohl for five years). Or the hidden “Endless, Nameless” and the new era of cleverly hidden tracks on CD’s. Blah, blah, blah.
But I won’t. Just go back, dig it up, and listen to it. Loud. Very loud.
* * * *
Once upon a time, there was a small handful of songs that fairly spontaneously would make our merry band of idiots stop what they were doing, come into the room, and hurtle around with, by William & Mary standards, uncontrolled gleeful fury. Stupid, especially by William & Mary standards, but always amusing. Yeah, we were the high five’n white guys.
Thinking back on those instant mosh tunes, “Fiesta” comes to mind. “Jerry Was a Race Car Driver.” “I Wanna Be Sedated.” “Stop.” “Shake Your Rump” (really that whole album). “Smells Like Teen Spirit” became one of those songs upon first listen.
I have never been on the cutting edge of most music. For the most part, I seem to be many days late and many bucks short. The Clash became my favorite band of all time in 1989. (They broke up in 1983.) I got really into R.E.M. just two albums and two shows before they went major label milquetoast. I decided Camper van Beethoven wasn’t just noise and was actually rock and roll about the exact same time they split. Same with The Pixies. Old 97’s? Awesome. And I had that epiphany as their five-album heyday drew to a close. Same with The Replacements. Never saw They Might Be Giants or Ween when they were two dudes goofing around with drum machines. (Maybe that’s better, but it would have been cool.) Always late to the party.
But with Nirvana? Okay, so I wasn’t rocking to Bleach when the rest of the dweebs were bopping to “Love Shack,” but at the very least, I was the first guy I knew (besides Mac) to know and love Nevermind. It went Mac, then a few of us, then the rest of the guys in the house, then months later the people at the College Delly who played it on the juke ad nauseum. That and a dollar will get me a draft beer at happy hour, but especially considering the groundswell of folks on the grungewagon, it was good to have been able to appreciate it from the get-go.
The generation prior to mine is marked by the universal truth that each American will forever remember where they were and what they were doing when they heard the news that JFK had been shot. Our generation has the similar tragic memory-etching of 9/11. It’s not hard for me to remember where I was (frat house) and what I was doing (skipping class) when I first heard this music, because those activities goes for nearly every day of my 1988-1993. Still, as my memories get fuzzy on all too many precious things, somehow I’ll always recall with vivid images and much amusement my first exposure to “Smells Like Teen Spirit,” Nevermind, and Nirvana.
I dusted off the CD and gave it a full listen a couple of weeks ago. Straight-through, probably for the first time in 15 or more years. Don’t read anything more about this album. Just go give it another listen.
You gotta hear this band. They’re from Seattle.
rob: Blood Sugar Sex Magik
Music as memory. That's really where the power comes from, right? Sure, our subconscious minds love the perfect mathematical precision in a killer melody, and a dope beat hits us in that spot when we drive down the road turning it up loud (and if not a dope beat, how about all of Son Volt's 'Trace' - has a better late-night lonely-road driving album ever been made?). We lose ourselves in a live show, body moving without thought, singing along with no worry about not looking 'cool', whatever that means. But music gets us, really gets us deep in the place where it attaches itself to our recollections.
I have five 'favorite' albums, all from the day where music was so much more tangible than it is today. From when you had to buy a physical product, unwrap it, place it into the CD player, connect listening to action. In no particular order, the first four are Bob Mould's 'Workbook', R.E.M.'s 'Lifes Rich Pageant', the Smiths' 'Louder Than Bombs' (double record - score!), the Beastie Boys' 'Paul's Boutique'. If you didn't know I'm white, that list might be a clue.
The fifth record, and the topic of this ode to September 24, 1991, doesn't burnish my diversity credentials much, even as it borrows heavily from the greats of funk and owes so much to one of the great rap producers. But like the others, it instantly takes me back to a place and time. Despite the Stone Roses-based sound picture Whitney paints above (and I do dig some Roses), the Red Hot Chili Peppers' 'Blood Sugar Sex Magik' was the soundtrack of my senior year of college.
I liked the Chilis well enough before 'BSSM' came out, but I didn't consider myself a huge fan. Like everyone around me, I knew all the words to 'Magic Johnson', and thanks to Beavis and Butt-Head, was a big fan of Michael 'Flea' Balzary's manic bass stylings. My still-adolescent male self giggled along with the joke when they performed wearing nothing but strategically placed socks. He still does, actually.
But from the first notes of 'The Power of Equality', 'BSSM' dug its way into my life in a way unlike few records before or since. It's by turns loud, bawdy, so, so funky, sweet, complex, juvenile, thoughtful, silly, positive, and grateful. From the raucous hits 'Suck My Kiss' and 'Give It Away', to the lecherous title track, to the underrated funk of 'Mellowship Slinky in B Major', 'Apache Rose Peacock' and 'Naked in the Rain' the record has terrific range, emotionally and musically. I'm ambivalent about the album's megahit, 'Under the Bridge', but there's not a weak track in the bunch, and it says something to me that the two songs I like the most are so very different.
'The Righteous and the Wicked' is a driving, guitar-heavy romp. Producer Rick Rubin lets John Frusciante's alternately roaring, keening, careening sound play a starring role - in fact, Frusciante's evolution from the distortion of 'Mother's Milk' to the crisper sound on 'BSSM' was one of Rubin's most important contributions on the record.
On the other end of the spectrum, 'Breaking the Girl' is 4:55 of the sweetest, saddest heartache you ever want to hear. I love the line, "She was a girl/soulful and strange". Isn't that what we all wanted when we were 21? At least when we were sober and 21. And Anthony Kiedis' narrator broke her heart because he was too much of a tough guy. Kiedis' ability to combine naked introspection and compassion with the dirtiest of horndoggery - sometimes in the same song - is one of the contradictions that make 'BSSM' so compelling.
I don't remember whether I bought 'BSSM' or if my roommate, Jon Goodstein, did. Given that my lifelong inability to manage money first became obvious in college, it's likely that Steiner dropped the cash. What I do remember vividly is that we played it constantly for months. Unless one of us was hooking up, 'BSSM' went into the CD player at bedtime. (So, um, it went into the CD player every night.) And it went on as soon as we woke up.
I'm listening to BSSM right now, for the first time in too long, much like Whitney with 'Nevermind'. Nodding my head like 'yeah'. And remembering my senior year with a smile.
Let me know if you want to join my wrecking crew for the premiere. And can someone please get me ?uestlove's "Travels & Theory & Marauders & ..." shirt for Christmas?
I fear that Michael Rapaport just isn't eloquent enough to give ATCQ their proper props.
Seriously, he really is Dick Ritchie. He wasn't acting.
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