My Doubts

Actually, I think it is because I have sort of a SYSTEM. Sort of. For a while, I really did have a much more blatant SYSTEM where I was grading albums in Excel, giving points for melody, diversity of mood, consistency, emotional resonance, and instrumental spark. I have little to say about this, besides like any album review system I've ever devised, it becomes a huge mental debate after about 20 albums, and insufferable to keep going after about 50.
Lately, especially after this discussion, I honestly think that whatever intellectual criteria I use are at least somewhat arbitrary, heavily influenced by reading hundreds of George Starostin album reviews. It's not like I say "I'm going to rip off this person's musical tastes"; it honestly happens subconsciously when you're naive about music as a whole and you want a quick way to gain intellectual respect.
"Objectivity in art assessing is only possible within a chosen subjective paradigm."
Okay, as best as I can tell my subjective paradigm starts with vocal melodies, usually the backbone of a song for me. I have a hard time describing which melodies are good ones; it's really something I know instinctively, making it more subjective than system-based, but it's mostly based on originality, the emotional content of the melody (Yes, when a melody builds tension properly, it can be very emotional just by itself.), and sometimes, the complexity of the melody.
From there, I suppose it gets a lot more in-depth, so I'll skip it for now. Ideally, what I try to do is listen to a piece of music, decide if I like or dislike it, and then figure out exactly why I like or dislike it. So maybe in truth, I don't really hate Led Zeppelin; I just think they're overrated. My actual problem with Led Zeppelin is that their vocal melodies usually suck, Robert Plant is a whiny asshole who often writes terrible D&D-ish lyrics (a type of lyric which I think has no place in emotionally charged music), and what's purported to be their best album (LZ IV) has four songs that I generally consider to be poor. And guess what, there's only eight songs! That album also shows some talent in them; mostly on the playing/arranging side. "When the Levee Breaks" is respectable and enjoyable for its great arrangement, Breault, because it effortlessly combines the best strains of blues and hard rock, and it sounds like a fucking earthquake, and it's enough for me to enjoy it even with the presence of Robert Plant.

people be talkin'/I feed dolphins

Let me encapsulate this motherfucker for the kids who came in late. It seems that Zuke, Eric, and I agree that a critic is in essence evaluating a song's effect on him. I say that this is a personal critique, and a song's effect is an emotional one, though I'm not claiming that the intellectual merits of a piece can't stir up an emotional response in us. Jerry is claiming something else entirely, and I'll get to him later.

As I understand it, Zuke's idea of "uncountable subtleties" magicking up sensation is identical to my own definition of music's effect. I don't know what the point about music being great by any measure, yet still not sounding good to you, is supposed to mean. Things can be less than the sum of their parts. You are grading the thing, not the parts. At the least, Zuke seems to be saying that you should evaluate the two separately, which contradicts the view that a critic measures the effect of a song in total, and not the minutiae of its architecture, which I thought Zuke had accepted. Finally, his point about not viewing my favorite movie daily seems random; it would be a valuable refutation of the argument that "nothing is good unless you want to see it every day," an opinion I have never heard voiced by anyone. When I say that a song is bad because I don't enjoy hearing it, I am not saying "No, I would not like to listen to that every day," but "No, I don't want to hear that fucking thing again ever."

I agree with Eric almost unreservedly, whether he's poaching the argument from Starostin or not. My reservations are about Sigur Ros; as fun as "Svefn g englar" is, the band's schtick gets old. "We made up our own language" wankers.

Jerry, like Zuke, seems to be saying that there are "objective measures" of a band's quality. As Eric points out, it is tough to argue that one arrangement of notes is superior to another. Saying only that a section of a song hits the ear in the right way is arbitrary and unjustified, as is saying "that harmony is nice" or "that lyric is clever" or "that arrangement is perfect." Many "music people" get angry or loud when you question a statement like that; it then becomes suspect that there is any thought at all behind their appraisals. Nobody benefits from knowing that you like something; the reasons behind your evaluation art the only thing of interest. The easiest way to avoid actual consideration of these reasons is to pretend that we have absolute and objective ways of measuring a substance as undefinable as quality. The best example that comes to mind is that Amazon review of a Flaming Lips album -- that said it was like watching a parade -- which means a lot more than "their bass lines are juicy," or whatever.

It is highly unlikely that anybody but the Rolling Stone review dept. would not accept that Jerry does not like Led Zeppelin, were he a professional reviewer. Serious music critics, like virtually any other species of non-populist reviewer, do not agree on a canon, nor is there any album that all of them like. Then again, I do not read WRC reviews, and mostly stay with ones that I find nicely written (in the Village Voice, The New Yorker, Uncut, and Pitchfork), and maybe the WRC conforms more to the Rolling Stone/VH1 list of "great music." I have no idea why you would think someone who likes Led Zeppelin is more right about music than someone who enjoys critical darling Vitamin C. Too many people assert that Led Zeppelin rocks their world because "[insert track here] is really good," or "[album] is the best album ever," and they cannot fucking explain why. Their opinions are not made weightier by the fact that they like a popular favorite like Led Zeppelin.

Jerry's tiers and levels may help him keep track of his conclusions about music, but it does nothing to justify them, from where I'm standing. "Objective admiration" means nothing to me, and nobody has defined what "objective measures" are being made, and saying it is in your "top tier" is no argument at all. There's no reason to say that a "great arrangement" of instruments and vocals has a larger intrinsic value than a "great arrangement" of pubic hairs glued together -- they are both complicated and required some work to put together, neither of which has any bearing on their quality.

Finally, saying that you won't change the radio when something you don't want to hear comes on is not evidence of anything about the music itself. It may say something about the state of modern radio options, or something about you.

Something about music

The way I see it, there is no "Led Zepplin IV" or "Revolver" or "Smile" and so forth. My "Revolver" is different from your "Revolver" because of how we see it. Perhaps we all agree about the exact notes and that it was released by the Beatles on such-and-such label on such-and-such a date, but what do they mean to us, hmm?

In short, musical discussion consists entirely of discussion of our differing perspectives.

I have yet to find proof that there are objective definitions of "good music" and "bad music". Are long phrases necessarily better than short phrases? Are seven-and-a-half minute guitar solos great or wanking? Do the presence of larger intervals in phrases make them better? Is the I-IV-V(7)-I pattern inferior to something involving more chords?

I don't really care, since all I evaluate is a musical work's impression on me.

If there is consistency to my tastes, I cannot describe it.
I do like what I've heard of this band, though.

A Long Rambling Comment that Became a Post

Yes, it is true. If I were to become a professional critic, and talk about how much I hate Led Zeppelin, no one could have any respect for me. There have to be some standards to measure music by, and LZ qualifies as a good band by any objective measure I can think of. Ben may call this buying into the critical establishment, but the establishment doesn't get established for no reason at all. Without focusing on song construction and melody and playing, I am just like any other member of the public. It is important to recognize some fundamental components of music, the kind people had in mind when they came up with classical.
Therefore, I can say "Man, Led Zeppelin sure created great arrangements and should be respected as a good band just for that." However, even if I admire them, I'd rather listen to a band who I admire and subjectively salivate over, the latter qualification being one that Led Zeppelin does not meet. This means Led Zeppelin is in my 3rd tier of bands to listen to, but since I respect them, they don't get cast any lower. I say I hate them because they get splooged over in the music press way too much, not the reverse, as was suggested. The suggestion by either Breault or Ben, or perhaps both, I'm not sure, was that I don't like them, but because critics say they are great, I have to at least respect (i.e., pretend to like) them.
Well, sure, I suppose at a certain level, I like Led Zeppelin. For example, let me describe 3 quick tiers of Goodness. The first is "Objective" Admiration/"Subjective" Enjoyment, a devastating combo; the second is "Subjective" Enjoyment; the third is "Objective" Admiration. LZ falls into Tier 3, which means I hate them and respect them simultaneously, but they are still in a Tier of Goodness. They just happen to be in the Tier of Goodness which is for bands that I appreciate/generally dislike.
I think the conflict is this. My definition of dislike is me not wanting to listen to something with any frequency; but it doesn't necessarily mean I foam at the mouth when I hear LZ come on the radio. I probably wouldn't even turn the station. I am just uninspired emotionally by their music, but I wouldn't think too badly of someone who said LZ was a great band, as I would if someone said Vitamin C was the best musician of the 1990's.

Boogers are five cents at the snot market.

It has been brought to my attention that some members of this blog are ill-versed in why music appeals to people. Music is the summation of uncountable subtleties, whose total effect is the sensation that the listener appreciates. The number of factors that contribute to an appreciation of a song are more then anyone can hold in their head at one time, and there will be things your ears notice yet you cannot bring into the front of your mind to quantize. And so, while a band or a song may qualify as great by any stick you can think of to measure by, the effect of the piece on you will be an unpleasant one. Besides, your favorite movie is good, but would you want to watch it every day? This is why I am confident stating that The Beatles are a good, even great band, yet I do not like listening to them.

corrections

It has been brought to mine own attentions that some members of this blog are ill-versed in the pompous bullshit that criticism is built on. It sounds nasty serious, but here:

Reviewers are fascists, great and terrible in their power of opinion. An opinion is truth to the best of your knowledge at the time you think it. It changes later; it's true 'til then. It makes no sense to opine about anything unless you know you're right.

Digression 1: If we claim any music or film as art, every piece of music and film is art. Some of it's bad art, like the hairy penises I drew in Jerry's calc book when he wasn't looking.

When a critic says that he respects something but does not like it, he is doing one of two things. He could be saying he respects someone else's opinion more than his own; an album has a reputation, it is "important," it is difficult to understand, and Mr. Sensitive won't challenge it because he's scared, or some shit like that. He thinks other people know what he enjoys better than he does himself.

Digression 2: Any "art" that thinks it can teach you something is probably full of shit. Movies do not make you more moral, more witty in conversation, or better at karate. They teach you trivia, and give you a base of comparison, and everything else is pretension. This is why most message movies and protest songs are terrible.

The second explanation: Monsieur Critique is trying to give the fucking thing an "A" for effort. He praises an album's complexity, or its background, or its status as a breakthrough something. He believes that something is good just because work went into it. But let's recall: germs have to work to give you syphilis, Hitler had to work to engineer the Holocaust, and the New Kids on the Block had to work to make Hangin' Tough.

And that's why you don't say you can appreciate something that you don't like.

Random Thoughts

I think it's important to note that just because art-rock isn't always rock, it's still art, and art often has a lot of value. A lot of people forget that. Most critics underrate Quadrophenia because they decry the lack of WHO rocking power on some of the songs, and I think that misses the point. For example, Captain Marvel gave Quadrophenia an A instead of an A+ because he said, "I think Pete Townshend is becoming too much of a composer on this album." So? It's just like poetry, I think. In poetry, people invent forms, but ultimately you have to break free from restrictions of that nature. Sometimes rock bands have to break free of the genre's inherent restrictions. Sometimes it works, sometimes not.

Zuke pointed out in the car the other day the importance of rhythm, something which I always overlook, although I notice it subconsciously. I tend to focus more on the melodies and the guitars, and less on the rhythm section, unless it's playing something out of the ordinary. But you know, even if your drummer is playing quarter notes in 4/4 time, he can still be effective if he brings a rhythmic drive. A band like R.E.M. for example, is hardly technically gifted on their instruments, but a lot of their early albums are still pretty rousing musically, in part because Mike Mills on bass and Bill Berry on drums are rhythmically solid. Loui, this is why I enjoy songs like "These Days" so much; the drive of their rhythm section is absolutely uncontainable at a brisk tempo, even though Bill Berry is mostly just banging pretty standard parts. This is also, I think, a big reason in preferring R.E.M.'s early work to their much-slower 90's material.

Now I wanna sniff some glue.

Let's face it: Helen Keller was a better musician then Johnny Ramone. If you count dit and dat as chords, that's half as many as Johnny knew. But that's not why you listen to the Ramones. The Ramones did to Rock and Roll what the protestant reformation did to christianity. They said "fuck you" to fifteen minute guitar solos and went back to basics. Their music is instantly recognizable as a throwback to a better time, before rock and roll became art, four chords played in quick succession over a pulsing rythym section, songs rarely straying over 2 or 3 minutes. Their songs are repetitive and can become boring quickly, and you begin to wonder after awhile whether or not you heard the riff in this song in the last track, and you might well have. The formula doesn't allow for much variation.
Like it or not The Ramones launched Punk. The Sex Pistols, and the Clash fill out the orginal triangle of Punk, a sound pioneered by the New York Dolls. Of this (in?)holy trinity, the Clash knew their instruements the best, the Sex Pistols had the biggest balls, but The Ramones were the most enjoyable, with lyrics uncharged by the political statements that turned punk from being about enjoying the summer sun to whiny neo-markist shittyism. Ramones lyrics are often tinged with boredom, just weird most of the time, as if they were perpetually channeling the spirits of a half dozen perpetually bored 10th graders. Perhaps I gave this away too early, but I'm pretty sure all things calling themselves 'punk' after this are pretty devoid of worth. I am for once in agreement with good old Georgie.

Nerfherder: From what I'm hearing, Nerd Rock is better ground up, the 3 seconds of each song I like plucked out and assemebled into one song, and the rest burned on Darth Vader's funeral pyre. There are parts of all these songs I like. They are usually the parts wiht no vocals. The only thing that keeps me from praying before I goto sleep everynight that Parry Gripp have his vocal chords ripped out before he sings anything else is that I'm pretty sure that all "nerd-rockers" make their music as a joke, and it's only the fans of the genre that don't realize this.

alrighty then.

Transmissions From the Satellite Heart

The Flaming Lips are one of the few modern bands who I wholly respect, and 1993's Transmissions adds a lot to that respect. They're really notable for their dense production values, something which I always appreciate. You can tell the arrangements have been given a lot of care, and they make sure to add in all sorts of treats for the careful listener. Lead singer Wayne Coyne was capable of regularly writing catchy and affecting melodies by this point in the Lips' career, and guitarist Ronald Drozd adds a lot of titanic riffs. But even with all their powers Transmissions shows a band not quite in full creative fruition. The album opens with a lot of boundless energy in "Turns It On," but quickly stagnates into "Oh My Pregnant Head," which doesn't have much going for it besides its title. At any rate, this album is a really good one, but it only serves to remind me what a masterpiece 1995's Clouds Taste Metallic is. Except right now I'm listening to Metallic and it's boring the shit out of me, which might mean I'm just tired and focusing too much energy into this bland review, or it means there's been some significant shift in my music tastes, which would be frightening.

I love student council

's strange misguided generousity.

Today I was informed that I could salvage what I wanted from an old stereo (2 generations ago, and looks to be early 90s stuff). I got some drivers that mgiht end up being useful, including an old fourteen inch subwoofer. and I got an old stereo amplifier, looking to be broken. Looking up the amplifier (GFA-555 by Adcom) I was pleasantly suprised to find that it was described as revoltionary, in the 80s, is now described as one of the best entry level audiophile amplifiers since, and has a used sale value of 2-400 dollars. I was even more pleasantly suprised to find it in perfect working order. My parents were unpleasantly suprised to find it has no volume control, and that 200 watts come out of each of the stereo channels hell or high water. This amplifer could power a loud dance in a space the size ofthe attic. It's over kill for a bed(or dorm)room.

Christmas CD's

Some thoughts on my Christmas CD's, with more to come later:

The Beatles-Let It Be (1968 or 1970)
Pretty obviously the weakest album of their 1965-69 period, unless I count Yellow Submarine or a toss-off of that nature. After all, they didn't release it until after they broke up. It's got oodles of perfect songs though, especially "Let It Be," which I believe has two good guitar soloes in the same key playing simultaneously, and "Across the Universe," a humble Lennon anthem. These are two songs which showcase Lennon & McCartney's melodic instincts really well. The album has a really hickish feel, with them embracing country and blues influences more openly. The country doesn't work too well, but the blues is top-notch, especially "For You Blue," which makes them seem like potentially great bluesmen. At any rate, having two tracks which amount to nothing, literally ("Dig It," "Maggie Mae") and having overly simplistic songs like "Two of Us" and "One After 909" is aggravating.

Yes-Fragile (1971)
I think this is pretty much the first 1970's progressive rock album I've really listened to. Yes is supposed to be one of the quintessential bands of prog, so if this album is any indication, I'm going to have a love-hate relationship with prog. There are some really great things about the album; mostly the playing, but the vocal melodies are sometimes engaging. Unfortunately, I can't get any resonance out of this stuff. The lyrics are uniquely bullshitty, which I sort of expected, but I'm a man for sound, so I can get past that. It's just that for every rocking or tender moment, you get something that sounds completely overblown and ridiculous. Lead single "Roundabout" is prog carried off rather successfully, though. It goes seamlessly through multiple parts, while maintaining melody, rhythm, and what not. The playing is stellar, especially Rick Wakeman on the most (and only) badass keyboard solo ever. When I downloaded the song before getting the album, I thought they would be a mindblowing group, but the rest of the album is really erratic, and often annoying. The album is sequenced so there are only four songs, and five solo pieces. Of the true songs, only "Roundabout" and the 10-minute closer "Heart of the Sunrise" really satisfy me, but hell, that's almost half the album right there.
I think the problem does lie in the playing, to some extent. A lot of the main riffs are played really fast and hyper, which sometimes works, but is just as much, really hard to enjoy. It's nowhere near as bad as Dream Theater, which sounds like bad video game music, but it's the same sort of problem. Yes at least sounds like good video game music at their worst. This may be caused by the weird time signatures and off-beat rhythms, but I'm not sure.
Most of the solo pieces are total wankery, too. I can go for Steve Howe's guitar piece "Mood For a Day," since it's really dextrous playing, with some nice themes, and on acoustic guitar, no less. But Jon Anderson's vocal harmony piece is dumb, and Chris Squire's bass symphony doesn't sound near as great as I would think a bass symphony would. It's too gimmicky.
I think I'm making Fragile sound worse than what I actually think of it. I definitely like the album; it's just not the sort of awesome experience I was hoping for, and I can sort of see the huge Rolling Stone-led backlash against prog-rock.

In pitch dark/ I go walking in your landscape...

Contributing my musical perspectives should be an interesting excercize. I am quite aware that I am the junior member of this blog and have precious little experience with and exposure to the loosely-defined "Rock Music" or "Popular Music" genre.

After all, my main exposure was to other people's tastes at camps and the like. Because of my friends' tastes, my initial exposure was limited and sketchy. Groups and artists as diverse as Ben Folds, They Might Be Giants, R.E.M., Radiohead, Flogging Molly, The Red Hot Chili Peppers, Weezer, NOFX and Tenacious D did not give me a good introduction at all. I've tried to experience more and different types of music, which has helped a little. What I want is a comprehensive history of the evolution of rock.

I know that there were rural blues and country and then there were Elvis and Buddy Holly. And the 60's expanded and diversified rock. And there was Art Rock, inspired by classical ideas and remembered for its platform shoes and light shows. And Punk reacted against Art Rock, getting back to far simpler arrangements. Post-Punk liked the DIY aesthetic, but went for a more artistically creative approach. Alternative Rock was the mainstream co-opting Post-Punk. Post-Rock was a reaction against Alternative Rock, subverting even basic rock formats.

Music Philosophy is an interesting subject, and I'm inclined to believe that everything is entirely subjective. I know what I like, but that doesn't mean I try to establish it as "good". Even when trying to be objective, every word, every bit of structure conveys an idea slightly differently than a different word or structure, differing with each person's interpretation. The best I can do is to compare and describe works, drawing recommendations, not judgements of worthieness.

On a side note, we need a "File Under:" system where browsers can view posts not by straight chronology, but by topic. I don't know if this is even possible on Blogger.

Music listened to while writing this post= Mogwai, Happy Songs for Happy People

writing about music is like dancing about architecture

As I sat after an unfortunate harddrive accident re-ripping my cds, thinking of how the growing popularity of mp3 players and download services will continue to spell the death of the album, and the final rise of the single, I noticed one of the greatest singles ever sitting lonesome in my library. I don't like singles. It is pretenious of me, the attitude that idas should be large enough that they do not fit within a song, but should fit nicely in a 40 to 70 minute album.
However, a few songs jump out as being able to stand alone, apart from the rest, and still being worth listening too. Any Ramones song, as they're all the same. Some Dylan. And one song stands above these being just... great. House of the Rising Sun by The Animals is alive, possesing an ever moving, ever climbing feel driven by the repeptitive and quiet guitar arpeggios, Morricone style. The organ playing over this only further advances my theory that you can never go wrong an organ. And any song that has an organ solo also carries some large balls. The vocals follow the simple theme of warning against gambling, and nothing is overly complex. Nothing is left incomplete, and after four and a half minutes the song comes to it's conclusion, complete, and needing no album as a backing.

The idea of completeness within a song or album is something more bands should strive for.

bed.

Introduction

This will be a sanctuary for album reviews, musical commentary, etc... This is me killing a lot of skeet in one go; namely the need to be creative, to blog, to blab about music, and to discuss music. So yeah, I'm pretty much open to anyone joining, as usual. Just ask, and I will make your dreams come true.