7.20.2001
Four years after the failed 1997 takeover of America's airwaves by electronica -- remember? Chemical Brothers were going to be the new Nirvana, Prodigy the new Pearl Jam -- the purveyors of that unfortunately named catchall category quietly continue to produce some of the best alt-pop going. And much as it pains me, I have to give credit to the French. Indeed, two of the most acclaimed acts of the ill-fated non-revolution are getting constant spins in my Discman as I perspire on the subway and retire at the beach.
The thread linking Daft Punk's 'Discovery' and Air's '10,000Hz Legend' -- besides their common Gallic heritage -- is a renewed appreciation for, of all things, rock, at least the bastard mid-'70s AOR rock served up by the likes of ELO and Blue Oyster Cult. To be sure, both Air and Daft Punk have already borrowed liberally from the Nixon-Carter years: on 'Homework' (1997), Daft Punk reimagined Georgio Moroder-style disco as robotic, Kraftwerkian auto-fun (this is what should have played when 'A.I.''s Gigolo Joe cocked his head to summon background music); while Air's 'Moon Safari' (1998) was a cocktail party at which Karen Carpenter, Devo, the Village People and Serge Gainsbourg gathered around the Moog to sing songs their mothers could have taught them.
But on their new albums, both groups of Franco-funksters throw even more influences into the pop-culture blender. What they come out with is both more eclectic than their respective debuts and yet somehow purer, less scattershot. In their own ways, each act basically accomplishes the same artistic leap Beck made when his slacker opus 'Mellow Gold' gave way to his uber-zeitgeist masterwork 'Odelay': a clarifying redefinition made possible by appropriating more stuff, not less.
Daft Punk's 'Discovery' is the real quantum leap. While 'Homework' was an admirable statement of purpose that won rabid plaudits at the time, I've always felt critics liked the idea of Daft Punk better than the overrated album; it's one of the few top-rated albums of 1997 (a great year for music that produced 'If You're Feeling Sinister,' 'I Can Hear the Heart Beating as One,' 'OK Computer,' and several brilliant Missy Elliott and Notorious B.I.G. singles) that already sounds dated. No such problem with 'Discovery,' which does for techno-dance in 2001 what Donna Summer's 'Bad Girls' album did for Studio 54 in 1979: achieve a total contretemps with rock while remaining fundamentally disco. Actually, a better antecedent might be Eddie Van Halen's pathbreaking synthesizer solo on "Jump" (1984), because rock synth makes as many appearances as rock guitar, cleverly grounding Daft Punk in rock song forms while staying true to the implements of the deejay. Vocals waft in and out, sometimes in standard song form, as on the KTU-ready dancefloor anthem "One More Time," but more often sampled and liberally sprinkled, Martha Wash- or Loleatta Holloway-style. The album is danceable, groove-heavy, yet sturdy enough to serve as smart background music.
Of course, the ultimate background music is Air's, whose 'Moon Safari' remains the greatest aiplane album of all time. (Put it on while your flight is taxiing at La Guardia -- when the attendants aren't looking, of course; I guarantee the wait to take off will, er...fly right by.) With its indelible melodies and purer songcraft, 'Moon Safari' is unmatchable and, sadly for Air, probably un-top-able. So to their credit, on '10,000Hz Legend,' Jean-Benoit Dunckel and Nicolas Godin don't try to match it. Oh, sure, "Radio #1" wants to be the new "Sexy Boy," the atypical single with the preening lyric and the campy machismo; and the collaboration with Beck, the gorgeous "The Vagabond," does more for Beck's career than it does for the album and is probably not as smart a move as letting him remix "Sexy Boy" back in '98 was. But for all that, 'Legend' reveals a more expansive, crunchier, earthier sound than its loungey predecessor. The comparison that many critics have made is to Air's intervening score work for Sofia Coppola's film 'The Virgin Suicides' (2000), a terrific soundtrack which was indeed darker and slightly more rock-informed than 'Safari' was. But that's not only too easy, it's fairly inaccurate: 'Suicides' was in service of the film and cleverly reimagined Pink Floyd-era rock and Bread-era soft-pop as suburban aural wallpaper; 'Legend' is a more unruly animal that collides ELO-style symphonics, top 40 weltschmerz and yes, Kraftwerk-style digital rock (there they are again) into a still-smooth but pleasantly kicky superstructure. You can still listen to it on the beach, but expect to look up from your paperback much more frequently; if 'Safari' was like waves lapping on a Caribbean shore, 'Legend' is like a well-populated Riviera beach where topless and thong-clad bathers occasionally distract you. It's not as soothing but a lot more memorable.
Both albums have drawn a mixed reaction, due in large part to previous expectations. The Air record is getting the same response from fans that Portishead's second album did -- a well-loved background-in-a-SoHo-bar album is followed by a weird, intrusive album that sours everyone's Cosmopolitan. Meanwhile, Rolling Stone's always-amusing Rob Sheffield called the new Daft Punk record "as much fun as a thesis on disco" (while praising the new Janet Jackson single for being, simply, disco). I understand these reactions but respectfully disagree: smart disco records are always welcome, Rob, especially when they keep my booty shaking; and the Air record only needs a second or third listen to become as warmly enjoyable, in its oddball little way, as its esteemed predecessor. In a year when Jeff Lynne of ELO decided to reform his old group (or at least revive the moniker -- no one's sure if he's working with any of his old ELO bandmates anymore), I find it charmingly ironic that a bunch of French guys who were probably tots when "Telephone Line" ruled the airwaves have made better new ELO records than ELO has.
I'm happy to make copies of one or both CDs for any Ishbaddidler who's looking for new fun-in-the-sun tunes. Pass the Banana Boat.
-- Chris Molanphy
7.17.2001
Fess up, now -- what's the oddest/coolest/most-potlatch-worthy thing you've bought (or wished you had) on ebay, at a stoop sale, in a flea market, etc.? Requests for anonymity will be honored.
Trip Kirkpatrick is grooving to his find:
The coolest thing I have bought recently (since as we all know I buy cool things all the time) was the soundtrack to Jean-Luc Godard's Nouvelle vague. What's so cool about this? Well, rather than just another soundtrack, this is the sound track to the film. The whole kit and kaboodle. The entire 88-minute sounds of the film, on two shiny CDs. Unfortunately, there's no libretto, so I can only follow along as my ability permits, which is to say intermittently. There is, however, a nice pinhead essay (in French, German, and English) by a cultural critic about the movie and why it's great to listen to the sound without the vision. Big ups to Chris Molanphy, who gave me the gift certificate to Other Music, which is where I found this gem.
Alex Joseph bought:
Black Velvet San Francisco Painting That Lights Up
I believe I have the coolest thing. I would like to be buried with it. And yes, I bought it on eBay. It is a 6' X 3' black velvet painting of San Francisco that lights up. Yes, that's right. The cable car lights up, Golden Gate Bridge lights up. Not only is it exceptionally ugly/beautiful, the scale is all wrong, Coit (sp?) Tower is where Chinatown should be, the bridge is wildly out of proportion. That phrase, "black velvet San Francisco painting that lights up" has wormed its way into virtually every substantial conversation I've had in the past 3 months. Try saying it sometime.
I also have a raining oil lamp with a naked lady that slowly turns around, surveying the pink, plastic foliage at her feet. AND I have a lenticular. A lenticular is a 3-D image (think VuMaster) that lights up (notice a theme?). My particular lenticular features a witch, a pumpkin, and a green wall.
Next: Taxidermy.
Eric Lane bought:
On ebay, I bought a promotional jacket for the video game NARC. I haven't worn the jacket a lot, but when I do, people seem to love it. NARC was a superviolent game of my youth. It was a one or two player game where you controlled either a red or blue masked man who with his submachine gun would fight packs of drug-users, drug-sellers, and other drug related enemies (attack dogs if I remember). You'd also have to avoid the giant needles thrown your way. As for ebay, I have not yet given in and purchased a snow cone machine or a vhs copy of the film Ratboy.
P.S. I know someone who purchased live lobsters on ebay. Something about that bothers me. Oh, I also purchased a front row Beck ticket to his 2/15/00 show at radio city music hall. I had to meet the guy in an alley in times square at midnight on a wednesday to pick it up. I don't know why I felt that buying over ebay made it a safer transaction. But I did get to see the manchild funkster himself, feet away from me, perpetrating full-on rock-out explosions. I guess that's about it for ebay. Wish I had weirder stories. Over and out.
[NB: Meeting a guy in an alley at midnight isn't weird enough?]
Mike Everett-Lane bought:
Well, on-line, my best score was a talking Buttercup watch (for Debbie, of course). This watch is so cool. Buttercup is the most kick-ass of the three Powerpuff Girls, those kindergarteners who protect Townsville using their super-powers (think Sailor Moon 10 years younger). Not being able to watch PPG is one of the major drawbacks to going off the cable grid, but the watch almost makes up for it. It's huge, it's green, it talks and it has kewl animation on its tiny screen. Plus it has a tiny Buttercup figurine on it. Every grrl needs one.
Back in the real world, my latest favorite find was at our own stoop sale, which turned into a swap meet of sorts. I got a very cool straw-fedora-type hat for $1. It's my "daddy-o" hat -- I am now ready for fatherhood. (Well, at least I can look ready.)
7.16.2001
Thanks to Patrick for referring us to The Official Rock Paper Scissors Strategy Guide. Includes opening gambits, advanced strategy, etc. Wish I had studied this in third grade. Patrick also sent a smilie dictionary, which can be found here if you've always wondered what C=}>;*{)) was supposed to be.
Weird Emma has some distrubing, yet somehow amusing, bits of animation.
Colin Lingle wanted to tip us off to a few things:
One, on the topic of those quizzes mentioned in the last ish, here's one for you:
Al Gore or the Unabomber? Maybe if Ted Kaczynski was the candidate, Cheney and his bloodsuckers would have thought twice about stealing the election. Also, for anyone who is not familiar with The Smoking Gun: you are being watched. Probably. These guys are simply beyond.com. Among their many excellent features, my current favorite is the Adventures of Frank and Fritzy, irrelevant, inspired highlights from mobster tapes the feds made. The transcripts are funny, but you really have to hear the tapes. Seinfeld meets the Sopranos, for sure. Fuggedaboudit. Last, for anyone who didn't see it, Elmore Leonard's fantastic ten rules for writing. All the writers I know agree: it's gold, baby.
And Chris Molanphy puts us on to more movie debate...
Ty Burr, one of the more interesting critics at the admittedly junk-food-like Entertainment Weekly, offers a web-only commentary on the continuing debate over the merits of Spiel-brick's 'A.I.' here. My favorite quote: "[Spielberg] also goes all out toward the end with a trippy plot change-up reminiscent of '2001.' Too bad nobody goes to the movies on acid anymore."
[NB: I prefer "Spubrick" myself.}
