thirty - three
All of you, i love you. i don't know or care what injury i have sustained in the past, tonight, I love everyone. =D
First of all: I hate the new System of a Down album, Hypnotize. I think they've 'sold out', to use the vernacular, completely, and have become a pawn of the masses and coporate Hollywood. The album was repetitious, noisy, meaningless, and, in short, sucky. However, Liz asked me what the harm of my definition of 'selling out' if it made people happy. Since my brain (or lack thereof) goes around in circles constantly reconstructing previous conversations and thinking about people say to me (I'll come up with a huge rebuttal to a question someone asked weeks ago just to answer them and completely freak them out; it gets akward . . .) Anyways, i digress, what i think about my music:
Whenever buying an album, one is buying a complete work of art. Even the order of the songs in which the album is set is carefully made to be the exact harmony expected by the artist. The cover art counts, the lyric book counts, and most especially the lyrics themselves. Whenever a painting is put on display or lauded or whatever it is we do to paintings, we love it for the whole painting, not just the way the painter drew out the folds of cloth straming from the rampaging hippopatamus. In the same way, it absolutely does not matter if the guitarist's licks are fucking sweet, or if the singers have figured out how to make a good harmony. If all you're saying is,
"Banana banana banana banana terracotta
Banana terracotta terracotta pie", well then you're missing the entire background to the ramaging hippo (to allude to the previous metaphor) and that makes for one shitty painting.
Speaking of lyrics: we come to my main peeve with this pile of excrement we give the honor of calling a compact dick- perdón, disc. If a certain speceis of marmoset had just shat, the lyrics of most of the songs on this album would be equivalent to the remainder of feces clinging to the wrinkles of its sphincter. It's repetitive. The lyrics that don't repeat endlessly the same nonsense either cavort in the white happy-go-lucky feilds of drug use, or make continuous allusions to "bombs". We first heard about the bombs in "Steal this Album", after which they made an appearance in "Mezmerize", but still, we have another bomb song on "Hypnotize". We get it. They're dropping bombs. Oh fuck, move on. If you're going to make a statement on war, at least move on to another aspect. I loved "From Her Lips to God's Ears (The Energizer)" by Against Me!, it was meaningful, i liked it. I really liked "Boom!" on "Steal This Album!". "Tentative" is a horn blowing for a war already forgotten, statistics already burned. "Where do you expect us to go when the bombs fall?" Why, back home so we righteous Christian Americans can congratulate ourselves on getting some more of those towel-headed sand niggers. Islamics are the new Indians. Americans find it possible to hate Bush and his war and yet hate the people the war is being fought against at the same time. It's a feat of the human nature - like doublethink in 1984. Repetition. Repetition. Repetition. Repetition. Repetition. Repetition. Repetition. Repetition. Repetition. Repetition. Repetition. Repetition. Repetition. Repetition. Repetition. Repetition. Repetition. Repetition. Repetition. Repetition. Repetition. Bored yet? I was. Just to prove a point: I love the band Radiohead. However, some of their CDs, such as "Kid A", i never wish to buy because in almost any given song on the album they pick a phrase or two and repeat it in various ways. That is to me subliminal messaging and massaging (gently) the idea contained in the phrase into my head, which scares me to paranoia.
The cover art left something to be enjoyed as well. It seemed as if s kindergartener had gotten a bunch of acrylics and drooled them out his petulant mouth onto the paper. The "Spiders" video from their first, self titiled album was a work of art - all this new media just seems to be shots of the band acting like a collective rabid bunny (being hip) with the occasional artistic insert. Gross.
The music (instrumental) seemed discordant, like each band member was trying to do a solo at the same time. Isn't the point of being in a bad sounding good together? I don't know, maybe i missed the big picture.
I realize Mezmerize and Hypnotize were recorded at the same time, in the same session. I thought Mezmerize had one or two good songs, but wasn't all that special. Hypnotize amounted to the rejects from an already mediocre album, resulting in something that, if turned into a color, would be about the ochre of what my cat pukes up on the carpet.
To say that a album such as i have perviously described to slide along diagonally through the charts and daily life because it makes happy is comparable to leagalizing heroin. Yes, it makes you happy, but it doesn't really help you, either. I'd like meaning in my music. Music is born of a captivating idea from the mind of anyone, just put into sound. It's one of humanity's noblest efforts. Music is growth, music is condensed poetry, music is hate, music is love, music is violence, it's sex, it's depression and happiness. Terracotta bananas aren't going to expand my mind or imagination, they don't tickle my pickle, please get them out of the singing stream of sound in which flows our music. In closing, WTF happened to SOAD?
First of all: I hate the new System of a Down album, Hypnotize. I think they've 'sold out', to use the vernacular, completely, and have become a pawn of the masses and coporate Hollywood. The album was repetitious, noisy, meaningless, and, in short, sucky. However, Liz asked me what the harm of my definition of 'selling out' if it made people happy. Since my brain (or lack thereof) goes around in circles constantly reconstructing previous conversations and thinking about people say to me (I'll come up with a huge rebuttal to a question someone asked weeks ago just to answer them and completely freak them out; it gets akward . . .) Anyways, i digress, what i think about my music:
Whenever buying an album, one is buying a complete work of art. Even the order of the songs in which the album is set is carefully made to be the exact harmony expected by the artist. The cover art counts, the lyric book counts, and most especially the lyrics themselves. Whenever a painting is put on display or lauded or whatever it is we do to paintings, we love it for the whole painting, not just the way the painter drew out the folds of cloth straming from the rampaging hippopatamus. In the same way, it absolutely does not matter if the guitarist's licks are fucking sweet, or if the singers have figured out how to make a good harmony. If all you're saying is,
"Banana banana banana banana terracotta
Banana terracotta terracotta pie", well then you're missing the entire background to the ramaging hippo (to allude to the previous metaphor) and that makes for one shitty painting.
Speaking of lyrics: we come to my main peeve with this pile of excrement we give the honor of calling a compact dick- perdón, disc. If a certain speceis of marmoset had just shat, the lyrics of most of the songs on this album would be equivalent to the remainder of feces clinging to the wrinkles of its sphincter. It's repetitive. The lyrics that don't repeat endlessly the same nonsense either cavort in the white happy-go-lucky feilds of drug use, or make continuous allusions to "bombs". We first heard about the bombs in "Steal this Album", after which they made an appearance in "Mezmerize", but still, we have another bomb song on "Hypnotize". We get it. They're dropping bombs. Oh fuck, move on. If you're going to make a statement on war, at least move on to another aspect. I loved "From Her Lips to God's Ears (The Energizer)" by Against Me!, it was meaningful, i liked it. I really liked "Boom!" on "Steal This Album!". "Tentative" is a horn blowing for a war already forgotten, statistics already burned. "Where do you expect us to go when the bombs fall?" Why, back home so we righteous Christian Americans can congratulate ourselves on getting some more of those towel-headed sand niggers. Islamics are the new Indians. Americans find it possible to hate Bush and his war and yet hate the people the war is being fought against at the same time. It's a feat of the human nature - like doublethink in 1984. Repetition. Repetition. Repetition. Repetition. Repetition. Repetition. Repetition. Repetition. Repetition. Repetition. Repetition. Repetition. Repetition. Repetition. Repetition. Repetition. Repetition. Repetition. Repetition. Repetition. Repetition. Bored yet? I was. Just to prove a point: I love the band Radiohead. However, some of their CDs, such as "Kid A", i never wish to buy because in almost any given song on the album they pick a phrase or two and repeat it in various ways. That is to me subliminal messaging and massaging (gently) the idea contained in the phrase into my head, which scares me to paranoia.
The cover art left something to be enjoyed as well. It seemed as if s kindergartener had gotten a bunch of acrylics and drooled them out his petulant mouth onto the paper. The "Spiders" video from their first, self titiled album was a work of art - all this new media just seems to be shots of the band acting like a collective rabid bunny (being hip) with the occasional artistic insert. Gross.
The music (instrumental) seemed discordant, like each band member was trying to do a solo at the same time. Isn't the point of being in a bad sounding good together? I don't know, maybe i missed the big picture.
I realize Mezmerize and Hypnotize were recorded at the same time, in the same session. I thought Mezmerize had one or two good songs, but wasn't all that special. Hypnotize amounted to the rejects from an already mediocre album, resulting in something that, if turned into a color, would be about the ochre of what my cat pukes up on the carpet.
To say that a album such as i have perviously described to slide along diagonally through the charts and daily life because it makes happy is comparable to leagalizing heroin. Yes, it makes you happy, but it doesn't really help you, either. I'd like meaning in my music. Music is born of a captivating idea from the mind of anyone, just put into sound. It's one of humanity's noblest efforts. Music is growth, music is condensed poetry, music is hate, music is love, music is violence, it's sex, it's depression and happiness. Terracotta bananas aren't going to expand my mind or imagination, they don't tickle my pickle, please get them out of the singing stream of sound in which flows our music. In closing, WTF happened to SOAD?