Down on the Disco Floor, They Make Their Profits
Maya is now officially a Gemini. Third generation, mind you.
You've done everything right, honey. Now why don't you come out and join us?
Please?
Three days 'til the due date. And counting.
If she should still prove reticent by Monday morning, I'm going to break down and catch the first matinee of Revenge of the Sith.
Goddamn it.
We've been trying to take daily walks of late, for the sake of lowering mama_k's prenatal blood pressure and for reigning in my burgeoning torso. I write as I eat an Oreo.
I used to walk at LEAST two miles a day; it was never an obligation, though; just getting from one place to another. Merely one advantage to not having a vehicle.
It's quite possible to get around Portand using public transit. Certainly a lot easier than in car-culture-obsessed Albuquerque. But it's expensive, and--I know this sounds lame, but--we live so close to the Max line that it's TOO convenient. There's no need to really walk anywhere.
The result: laziness. Ass, meet chair. Move to next chair. Repeat.
The thing is, though, there's a high school near our house with a great track. The other night I discovered the lost joy of grinding laps with a great album in the headphones.
The album: the aforementioned Entertainment! by Gang of Four. Never has quasi-power-walking felt so much like Revolution.
There's much to say about this shattered platter, and much of it has already been said, by people who get paid to say it. I knew that it was one of the seminal post-punk funk-punk blah blah blah, but their anthology A Brief History of the 20th Century has fully half of its songs.
So for all these years, I never thought it was necessary. Besides, since I discovered them, thanks to my life-changing purchase of the Rough Guide to Rock book in 1996, I've only come across Entertainment! twice on record store shelves. At import price, no less.
In the meantime, I was always the only Gang of Four fan I knew. I would sneak them onto mixtapes and try to convert my friends, to little avail. It's one thing to feel hip enough to hold exclusive knowledge of a band you know is great; it's quite another to seeth in frustration because you know you're on to something and no one else gets it.
Turns out, though, that a lot of people got it, and a lot of them have formed bands of late. Everyone from Les Savy Fav to Bloc Party, Franz Ferdinand, the Kills, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs--name your poison, really; in fact, pretty much everyone BUT Poison--wear the Go4 influence on their sleeves. And sometimes on their lapels, backs, kneecaps and foreheads.
I never would have thought that of all the musical influences burbling quietly, secretly, throughout the 80s and 90s, this one would surface so suddenly and with such built-up force.
I know it's a "scene" now, and as such it's headed straight for Backlash City (here's the final word on that). But I couldn't care less, because this disco-punk, or funk-punk or punk-funk or neo-new-wave or post-post-punk or whatever the fuck thang it is just tickles me to Texas. I'll be spinning this shit when the hipsters are shunning it like SARS.
Anyway, back to Entertainment!: I knew it was good, but I didn't know it was one of the models of a Great Album. Sequencing: perfect. Momentum: relentless. Integrity: airtight. If anything, it's almost TOO intense; the first time it takes a break is on track 11. There are 12 tracks.
The effect of the album is that of a grenade exploding in slow motion. Andy Gill's guitar is like shrapnel; Dave Allen's bass and Hugo Burnham's drums make up one of the most ferocious rhythm sections of all time, a truck careening through a battlefield on three flat tires, and on fire. This without ever "settling" into anything as comforting as a "groove."
All this, and some of the most intelligent and sardonic lyrics ever put to tape. Only the Clash and Fugazi (hey, the two pins on my backpack!) were as committed to articulating their political and cultural conscience through the voice of rock. Of those two, the Clash were too attached to the redemptive myths of rock'n'roll, and Fugazi... well, I can't say anything about Fugazi. Never mind [slinking away slowly].
Oh, and the reissue has eight, count 'em, eight bonus tracks, most of them good to brilliant. The only stinker is the final live cover of "Sweet Jane." I couldn't wait to hear it: who in their right indie mind doesn't want to hear Gang of Four do the Velvets? But no one will want to hear it again. Really, it's an obviously bad choice. Maybe "European Son" or "Black Angel's Death Song" or even "What Goes On." But "Sweet Jane?" I think the Cowboy Junkies hold the crown for that one.
Whew. The geek fumes are getting pretty thick today. I think I'll crack the windows and sign off.
Anyway, if you like the punky funk and the funky punk, then Entertainment! is your Bible. And it sounds better now than ever. Go, and sin no more.
(Thanks to fore_eyes for inspiration!)
You've done everything right, honey. Now why don't you come out and join us?
Please?
Three days 'til the due date. And counting.
If she should still prove reticent by Monday morning, I'm going to break down and catch the first matinee of Revenge of the Sith.
Goddamn it.
We've been trying to take daily walks of late, for the sake of lowering mama_k's prenatal blood pressure and for reigning in my burgeoning torso. I write as I eat an Oreo.
I used to walk at LEAST two miles a day; it was never an obligation, though; just getting from one place to another. Merely one advantage to not having a vehicle.
It's quite possible to get around Portand using public transit. Certainly a lot easier than in car-culture-obsessed Albuquerque. But it's expensive, and--I know this sounds lame, but--we live so close to the Max line that it's TOO convenient. There's no need to really walk anywhere.
The result: laziness. Ass, meet chair. Move to next chair. Repeat.
The thing is, though, there's a high school near our house with a great track. The other night I discovered the lost joy of grinding laps with a great album in the headphones.
The album: the aforementioned Entertainment! by Gang of Four. Never has quasi-power-walking felt so much like Revolution.
There's much to say about this shattered platter, and much of it has already been said, by people who get paid to say it. I knew that it was one of the seminal post-punk funk-punk blah blah blah, but their anthology A Brief History of the 20th Century has fully half of its songs.
So for all these years, I never thought it was necessary. Besides, since I discovered them, thanks to my life-changing purchase of the Rough Guide to Rock book in 1996, I've only come across Entertainment! twice on record store shelves. At import price, no less.
In the meantime, I was always the only Gang of Four fan I knew. I would sneak them onto mixtapes and try to convert my friends, to little avail. It's one thing to feel hip enough to hold exclusive knowledge of a band you know is great; it's quite another to seeth in frustration because you know you're on to something and no one else gets it.
Turns out, though, that a lot of people got it, and a lot of them have formed bands of late. Everyone from Les Savy Fav to Bloc Party, Franz Ferdinand, the Kills, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs--name your poison, really; in fact, pretty much everyone BUT Poison--wear the Go4 influence on their sleeves. And sometimes on their lapels, backs, kneecaps and foreheads.
I never would have thought that of all the musical influences burbling quietly, secretly, throughout the 80s and 90s, this one would surface so suddenly and with such built-up force.
I know it's a "scene" now, and as such it's headed straight for Backlash City (here's the final word on that). But I couldn't care less, because this disco-punk, or funk-punk or punk-funk or neo-new-wave or post-post-punk or whatever the fuck thang it is just tickles me to Texas. I'll be spinning this shit when the hipsters are shunning it like SARS.
Anyway, back to Entertainment!: I knew it was good, but I didn't know it was one of the models of a Great Album. Sequencing: perfect. Momentum: relentless. Integrity: airtight. If anything, it's almost TOO intense; the first time it takes a break is on track 11. There are 12 tracks.
The effect of the album is that of a grenade exploding in slow motion. Andy Gill's guitar is like shrapnel; Dave Allen's bass and Hugo Burnham's drums make up one of the most ferocious rhythm sections of all time, a truck careening through a battlefield on three flat tires, and on fire. This without ever "settling" into anything as comforting as a "groove."
All this, and some of the most intelligent and sardonic lyrics ever put to tape. Only the Clash and Fugazi (hey, the two pins on my backpack!) were as committed to articulating their political and cultural conscience through the voice of rock. Of those two, the Clash were too attached to the redemptive myths of rock'n'roll, and Fugazi... well, I can't say anything about Fugazi. Never mind [slinking away slowly].
Oh, and the reissue has eight, count 'em, eight bonus tracks, most of them good to brilliant. The only stinker is the final live cover of "Sweet Jane." I couldn't wait to hear it: who in their right indie mind doesn't want to hear Gang of Four do the Velvets? But no one will want to hear it again. Really, it's an obviously bad choice. Maybe "European Son" or "Black Angel's Death Song" or even "What Goes On." But "Sweet Jane?" I think the Cowboy Junkies hold the crown for that one.
Whew. The geek fumes are getting pretty thick today. I think I'll crack the windows and sign off.
Anyway, if you like the punky funk and the funky punk, then Entertainment! is your Bible. And it sounds better now than ever. Go, and sin no more.
(Thanks to fore_eyes for inspiration!)