Favoritism
My favorite band put out a new record today, sort of. I still think of They Might Be Giants as my favorite band. I'm not sure if they really are; I also kind of think of the Hold Steady as my favorite band, as they're the band I'm more likely to see twice in two nights (or one night!) and let myself get covered in sweat for. But I've only spent six years or so liking the Hold Steady; TMBG has an extra ten, and I do still like, sometimes love, their songs and albums, even if they haven't won an Album of the Year prize from me in ages (or ever? Maybe I gave it to them in 1996 for Factory Showroom, but in retrospect that's probably only number three or four from that year. I guess they retroactively received it for John Henry in '94).
As such, I've been thinking about the concept of a favorite band and what that actually means. For awhile, I used to think of the Beatles as my favorite band, because they were the best, but that started to seem a little backwards-looking or unnecessary, as they were ten years past producing any new music when I was born, let alone when I was actually starting to listen to pop music. They Might Be Giants was my default answer for a long time, but in retrospect, there were probably times when Radiohead or Rilo Kiley (RIP, by the way!) were my favorite bands. One reason TMBG probably loomed so large was that they were my first favorite band to really hold up to scrutiny.
A Brief History of My Favorite Bands Through They Might Be Giants
The Beatles: Okay, that was a pretty solid choice. The Beatles are pretty much the best rock and roll band of all time. It's conventional wisdom, but it happens to be true. Don't give me the Velvet Underground and don't you dare give me the Rolling Stones.
Spin Doctors: Here we go. As I've mentioned to some of you, or as others of you actually had to witness, not only was I way into the Spin Doctors around age fourteen, fifteen, you'll note that those ages put me way into the Spin Doctors nowhere near their actual heyday, or even during the run-up to their unsuccessful follow-up album Turn It Upside Down, but in the aftermath of that album's release! I'm fairly certain I didn't buy Turn It Upside Down (on cassette, what up) until early 1995, though I guess it's possible I got it in the waning months of 1994 (it was released that summer, I think). Nonetheless, I was into it. Every time I hear a Spin Doctors song now, there's this little battle inside me between nostalgic cheer and utter embarrassment.
The Lemonheads: You know, this is definitely a more subtle and affectionate form of retroactive discomfort, but in a way it's sadder, to look back and realize that I don't like the Lemonheads very much any more. I mean, I still like those songs and albums I used to like, but it feels very different. I saw that the Lemonheads (original lineup? Is there one? Who cares?) are hopping on the full-album bandwagon and performing all of It's a Shame About Ray at the Bowery Ballroom in October (and presumably several more songs as that album is a solid thirty minutes or so) (or maybe Evan Dando will just start and stop each song several times apiece). You could make a melancholy chart showing my gradually declining interest in this proposition; it would've been sky-high in late '95 into early '96, and then ticking steadily downward pretty much every year since then -- though maybe it would've bottomed out when that new Lemonheads record came out in 2006 and I got it for Christmas and didn't like it at all, and then maybe it would've jumped up slightly when I listened to It's a Shame About Ray on my ipod for the first time. I realize this is not unusual, but with the Spin Doctors, it seems like such a hilarious goof in retrospect, that this was the band I liked the most; the Lemonheads, who are objectively far less annoying than the Spin Doctors in addition to being better songwriters, feel a little more pitiable, and less likely to fade with time. But they did anyway.
And then, They Might Be Giants: I got a cassette of Flood at the used-record store to listen to on the family-vacation plane ride to England in the spring of 1996, I believe. I liked it a lot and sought out more of their music. But the real transition point was fall 1996: The Lemonheads released Car Button Cloth and They Might Be Giants released Factory Showroom. I liked both records (and still do, or at least I think I do, helped by never listening to Car Button Cloth), but TMBG (and R.E.M., for that matter, who put out New Adventures in Hi-Fi around the same time!) clearly trumped the Lemonheads. They Might Be Giants also quickly became a band where I cared enough to seek out B-sides and EPs and live versions of their songs, something that wasn't really true of previous bands (I still don't own the Spin Doctors live album. Some dignity, please).
So even as I've had periods of loving other bands more in terms of current output, They Might Be Giants feels like a line to me, where I moved into not just being a more dedicated fan, but also a fan of better stuff. I take this as a point of pride, as well as a proof of their strength as a band, because slash despite the TMBG fans who, not to sound uncharitable, used the band as a gateway to, well, a bunch of music that sounds, at best, like a poor man's TMBG or, at worst, like a whimsical college a capella group that was somehow trained on other instruments.
As a wonderful-horrible postscript: the Bowery Ballroom has recently announced another show in October doing the full-album straight-through thing that's so popular lately: The Spin Doctors playing Pocket Full of Kryptonite. I consider it a sign of personal growth that I haven't really seriously considered going to either that or the Lemonheads (and a sign of personal weakness that if someone else was like, let's go to this, I probably would). I will be seeing TMBG again in a couple of weeks, though. I'll even be happy when they play new songs.
As such, I've been thinking about the concept of a favorite band and what that actually means. For awhile, I used to think of the Beatles as my favorite band, because they were the best, but that started to seem a little backwards-looking or unnecessary, as they were ten years past producing any new music when I was born, let alone when I was actually starting to listen to pop music. They Might Be Giants was my default answer for a long time, but in retrospect, there were probably times when Radiohead or Rilo Kiley (RIP, by the way!) were my favorite bands. One reason TMBG probably loomed so large was that they were my first favorite band to really hold up to scrutiny.
A Brief History of My Favorite Bands Through They Might Be Giants
The Beatles: Okay, that was a pretty solid choice. The Beatles are pretty much the best rock and roll band of all time. It's conventional wisdom, but it happens to be true. Don't give me the Velvet Underground and don't you dare give me the Rolling Stones.
Spin Doctors: Here we go. As I've mentioned to some of you, or as others of you actually had to witness, not only was I way into the Spin Doctors around age fourteen, fifteen, you'll note that those ages put me way into the Spin Doctors nowhere near their actual heyday, or even during the run-up to their unsuccessful follow-up album Turn It Upside Down, but in the aftermath of that album's release! I'm fairly certain I didn't buy Turn It Upside Down (on cassette, what up) until early 1995, though I guess it's possible I got it in the waning months of 1994 (it was released that summer, I think). Nonetheless, I was into it. Every time I hear a Spin Doctors song now, there's this little battle inside me between nostalgic cheer and utter embarrassment.
The Lemonheads: You know, this is definitely a more subtle and affectionate form of retroactive discomfort, but in a way it's sadder, to look back and realize that I don't like the Lemonheads very much any more. I mean, I still like those songs and albums I used to like, but it feels very different. I saw that the Lemonheads (original lineup? Is there one? Who cares?) are hopping on the full-album bandwagon and performing all of It's a Shame About Ray at the Bowery Ballroom in October (and presumably several more songs as that album is a solid thirty minutes or so) (or maybe Evan Dando will just start and stop each song several times apiece). You could make a melancholy chart showing my gradually declining interest in this proposition; it would've been sky-high in late '95 into early '96, and then ticking steadily downward pretty much every year since then -- though maybe it would've bottomed out when that new Lemonheads record came out in 2006 and I got it for Christmas and didn't like it at all, and then maybe it would've jumped up slightly when I listened to It's a Shame About Ray on my ipod for the first time. I realize this is not unusual, but with the Spin Doctors, it seems like such a hilarious goof in retrospect, that this was the band I liked the most; the Lemonheads, who are objectively far less annoying than the Spin Doctors in addition to being better songwriters, feel a little more pitiable, and less likely to fade with time. But they did anyway.
And then, They Might Be Giants: I got a cassette of Flood at the used-record store to listen to on the family-vacation plane ride to England in the spring of 1996, I believe. I liked it a lot and sought out more of their music. But the real transition point was fall 1996: The Lemonheads released Car Button Cloth and They Might Be Giants released Factory Showroom. I liked both records (and still do, or at least I think I do, helped by never listening to Car Button Cloth), but TMBG (and R.E.M., for that matter, who put out New Adventures in Hi-Fi around the same time!) clearly trumped the Lemonheads. They Might Be Giants also quickly became a band where I cared enough to seek out B-sides and EPs and live versions of their songs, something that wasn't really true of previous bands (I still don't own the Spin Doctors live album. Some dignity, please).
So even as I've had periods of loving other bands more in terms of current output, They Might Be Giants feels like a line to me, where I moved into not just being a more dedicated fan, but also a fan of better stuff. I take this as a point of pride, as well as a proof of their strength as a band, because slash despite the TMBG fans who, not to sound uncharitable, used the band as a gateway to, well, a bunch of music that sounds, at best, like a poor man's TMBG or, at worst, like a whimsical college a capella group that was somehow trained on other instruments.
As a wonderful-horrible postscript: the Bowery Ballroom has recently announced another show in October doing the full-album straight-through thing that's so popular lately: The Spin Doctors playing Pocket Full of Kryptonite. I consider it a sign of personal growth that I haven't really seriously considered going to either that or the Lemonheads (and a sign of personal weakness that if someone else was like, let's go to this, I probably would). I will be seeing TMBG again in a couple of weeks, though. I'll even be happy when they play new songs.