I'm amazed what they want me to believe

I'm Amazed - My Morning Jacket

Okay, so I think the new My Morning Jacket album is...to put it bluntly...not very good. If you ever heard the Violent Femmes album New Times, you know what I'm talking about - the deep sense of embarrassment I feel at listening to what happens when a band I like decides to internalize the very worst of the 80s and call it an album. There's a couple decent tracks in the second half when they just let the guitars and Jim James do their things - "I'm Amazed" starts out nicely although I could live without the guitar histronics in the second half. And "Sec Walkin" - apart from the corny backing vocals - is very pretty.

But even if the rest of the record was great, I simply cannot get past their decision to release "Highly Suspicious" which may be the single worst song I've heard in years. For shame, My Morning Jacket.

So I can stay the tallest man in your eyes

The Gardener - The Tallest Man On Earth

Wispy and folksy - like a cross between an old Dylan record and a Page France song. This is the kind of track that is just begging for a cutesy old-fashioned video, with little kids riding a seesaw and laughing like only a seven year old can. And in the background a man tends his garden, and watches the kids with a hint of a smile and a twinkle in his eye.

The record is called Shallow Grave.

To be, or not to be; that is the bare bodkin

Alright, it's clear that I'm a little bit too busy to approximate my usual pattern of posting. There are two options. I can choose to simply ignore the blog for the next 6 weeks while I'm working, traveling across the country, etc. Or I can alter the style of posting to make it easier to update. For now, I'm choosing the latter option though I reserve the right to simply disappear for a while if things get too busy for even that.

That means I'm going to stop feeling guilty for failing to post on albums that deserve my traditional long-winded treatment. I'll get around to those when the fall rolls around. So Mates of State, Fleet Foxes, etc. are just going to have to wait. In the meantime, I'm going to limit myself to three lines per post - and attempt to cover some of the more obscure stuff I've been listening to lately. First on the list...

San Solomon - Balmorhea

Langorous as a raft on a slow moving river, this song drifts slowly between the rushes. You can sense a gentle sadness, burnished by the slow passage of years. And as you stare far off into the distance, you can see that the child with the wide eyes and the old man with wrinkled hands and a crooked grin are one in the same.

Balmorhea are from Austin, and have a record out called River Arms (eMusic) on Western Vinyl.

Our Lady of Perpetual Motion

I think most anyone who would care already knows that George Carlin died a few weeks ago. I meant to do a post the day it happened, but (as these things often do) I never quite got around to it. And then it seemed like the moment had passed. But two things changed my mind.

The first reason is pretty simple: I've been going back and listening to his stuff on and off over these couple weeks and it's reminded me of just how funny, insightful, and interesting an artist he really was. More than almost anyone else, Carlin bridged the gap between comedy and music. Listening to his stand-up was often a pleasure not necessarily because what he was saying was "funny" in any strict sense, but more because of the he used rhythm, meter, and intonation to suck you in.

The second is a little more spiteful. Put simply, I've read or heard a lot of folks discussing his legacy who seem to have completely and utterly missed the point. These people inevitably open with a reference to the "seven words" and then use that as a segue into a Lenny Bruce reference, immediately pigeon-holing Carlin as a guy whose primary interest was to shock the audience. Occasionally, they'll abandon that line long enough to point out that Carlin was also an innovator in the line of observational humor (the "did you ever notice..." sort of stuff). And maybe, just maybe, they'll (incorrectly) label him a "staunch atheist." Finally, they'll say something like "sure, he was a pioneer, but I just never found him that funny."

Now, humor is one of the most subjective things in the world, so far be it from me to argue about what another person ought to find funny. But still...if we're going to be writing elegies and talking about a man's entire life works, shouldn't we dig a little deeper than 4 or 5 bits from a career that featured over a dozen HBO specials, tons of albums and books, and literally thousands of stand-up appearances?

Take the atheism thing. Yes, in the later years, he took a very hard line on the non-existence of God. In particular, his bit from 1999's You Are All Diseased remains one of the definitive takedowns of the founding principles of religion, all the more powerful for its directness and wide-eyed glee:

There Is No God - George Carlin

But, like most brilliant people, Carlin didn't emerge at this place out of nowhere. This bit is far more interesting, far funnier, far more touching if you know about his past work. Take 1972's classic Class Clown for example, which deals extensively with his formative years, growing up in an Irish-Catholic family. It's a much gentler, more whimsical Carlin, but it's clearly the same guy. And it reveals a common theme that runs through all of his work: his interest in finding ways of bringing into light those things which we really ought to have seen for ourselves.

I Used to Be Irish Catholic - George Carlin

The joke is not just in the revelation ("oh yeah, that does happen all the time doesn't it?"), but also in the way it inspires immediate self-reflection. What Carlin did better than anyone was provide constant digs at how people trick themselves in the most subtle of ways to not see the obvious. Or, to paraphrase one of his lines: he just tells us stuff we already knew but hadn't gotten around to noticing yet. This is really a very delicate thing, and I think Carlin's real genius was in his ability to poke fun at those of us who were listening, without it ever feeling malicious. We could share in the joke, even as we feel just a bit of discomfort.

Of course not every bit will work for everyone - no one is funny all the time - but I think people who never really "got" him ought to give it another chance. Explore some of the less well known stuff. Borrow a copy of Class Clown (you have at least three friends who own it, I guarantee), check out one of his HBO shows from your local library, or even just on google video. Jammin' in New York would be a great place to start. His opening bit from that act on the Gulf War is startling for the way it feels immediate and retains its bite.

So he's gone now, but I hope that this means a few new folks will discover his work and get some joy out of it. As for Carlin himself, I don't think I could put my feelings any better than Joshua Mann did in an article for Slate:

He certainly would not want us to think of him smiling down on us from the clouds. If we want to imagine where, precisely, George Carlin has gone, we'd do better to recall what he told us in a line from one of his first HBO specials, back in 1978: "I think when you die your soul goes to a garage in Buffalo."

Or, to put it another way: so long, and thanks for all the laughs, George.

Words can never make up for what you do

A little bit of my regular life intruding on the blog today... This summer I'm working at the debate camp here at Dartmouth. Debate camp, as you might imagine, is pretty much the coolest place around. And, as if it wasn't hip enough to begin with, now we're moving full-speed-ahead into the 21st century, and putting all our information, lectures, and various other stuff online.

The upshot of this is that the lectures for the Dartmouth Debate Workshop (just completed today), which were already on our wiki are now available in podcast form. You can either go to this url or search within the iTunes store for "Dartmouth Debate Workshop." Even more exciting, the lectures for the upcoming Dartmouth Debate Institute - including some by me - will be available soon. So if you're really excited to hear me talk about the hydrogen economy or counterplan theory, this is your chance.

If, on the other hand, you want to hear the next big thing from Scandinavian pop, you can just listen to this track from Swedish songstress Lykke Li:

Dance Dance Dance - Lykke Li

I just happened to feel so alone

I think it's safe to say: Anna Ternheim is to this decade what Beth Orton was to the 90s. There was a brief era when it seemed that folk-influenced trip-hop was going to be the next big thing. It faded, but before the mood had completely disappeared we were graced with Orton's beautiful Central Reservation.

To Be Gone - Anna Ternheim

Now, a decade later, I listen to this song, and once again I'm transported into another world. A world of dreamy melodies that ride on the gentle crest of an electronic beat, with a voice that enchants and bewitches. However, where Orton's singing was gauzy, expansive, strong - Ternheim provides a decidedly Scandanavian perspective. More sparse. And instead of draping over you, it flutters and dances - always someplace just beyond your reach.

It's a lonely sound. One that says far more about what is hidden than it does about what is on display. It calls to mind a distant loneliness, one that stretches across an entire life. And all that holds it together is the memory of a quick kiss, shared in the black and white world of a snowy night under a new moon.

Anna Ternheim has been around for a while, but Halfway to Fivepoints is her first US release.

It's so obvious to me

Many songs, even some of the greatest ones ever made, are simply too dense - too full of possibility - to reveal themselves completely the first time through. But then there are the ones that you hear once, and immediately know that you'll love them forever.

Obvious - Vancougar

Not surprisingly, this category tends to be filled with songs exactly like this one. Warm, energetic, full of swooping power chords and keyboards that dazzle you like the sun after a summer storm. It's exactly the sort of song that you used to expect from the New Pornographers before they decided to get all serious. It's rambunctious and carefree, without a hint of irony in its wide-eyed joy.

Vancougar are located in the beautiful city of Vancouver, BC, and have a record coming out next week called Canadian Tuxedo, chock full of tunes to make you think back to the days when you would lie in the grass, stare at puffy white clouds and stuff your mouth with blackberries.

Maybe that's why I fell in love with music

Regular readers know that I don't regularly talk about hip-hop. It's partly because I don't tend to be a particularly big fan, but also because it's so far outside the zone of what I feel confident discussing that I don't really know how much I could add. I don't know the history, I don't know what is original and what's derivative. But one thing I can tell is when a song absolutely blows me away. And in those situations I'm happy to post, even if I don't really know any of the context for the discussion.

Feel Alive - Metermaids

This song, off the new record from Brooklyn's Metermaids, easily passes that threshold. In part, this may be because they are a self-described "hip-hop (but not really hip-hop) group" which really just means they combine the power of rhythm in hip-hop with the harmonies of soul and the strong melodies and big choruses that always keep me coming back to pop music.

It's really a bit of an untapped market, I think. The hordes of indie rock fans who want to dabble in hip-hop but are turned off by a lot of the more unsavory aspects (in terms of the misogyny, homophobia, and general glorification of violence, sex, and hate - but also in the discomfort generated by the mass-marketing of this stuff).

There is a lot of progressive hip-hop to be sure. But in my experience at least, a lot of it misses out on one crucial fact. In order to attract a lot of the theoretically available audience, you're going to need a hook. Get their attention with keyboards that could slide right into a synthy dance track or a fusion jazz number. And then, once you're set there, open their eyes to a whole new way of getting sucked into the beat.

For a clear reference of how to get the job done, Metermaids are a great place to start. "Feel Alive" is the most clearly melodic track on Nightlife, but there are plenty more that work with the same material. "Come Home" is buoyed by punchy guitar riff and chorus. "No Matter What" has a distinctly choral feel. And "Fingertips" melds an 80s keyboard line with a jittery, funk-infused beat. Elsewhere, tracks like "Never Far" and "Life is Easy" are seriously in debt to classic R&B and soul singers. And "Funk Terrorist" sounds exactly like name suggests.

Life is Easy - Metermaids

There's a thin line between dabblers and those who can successfully mine a wide range of genres. Metermaids clearly fall in the latter category. This is a group constantly seeking new ways of expressing old ideas, both lyrically and musically - looking for ways to channel the complicated and conflicted feelings of anger, love, depression, solidarity, and community into a form of music that builds up rather than tears down.

Given that, it should be no surprise that Nightlife is a record that screams New York, with people of all colors, from all walks of life live side by side. Not always in harmony, but with a common identity that transcends any single group. It's the sound the subway at 3 AM, of kids in Central Park, of hipsters on the Lower East Side, of the afternoon in Harlem. Most of all its an expression of joy, tempered by the recognition of hard times and tough places, but still resplendent in spite of it all.

It's not the junk that bothers me, it's the love

Today's "you can't be serious" moment brought to you by Robert Thurman (Father of Uma), professor of Buddhist studies at Columbia, in an interview with New York Times Magazine:

As a Buddhist, how do you reconcile your pacifism with the roles your daughter Uma has played in films like Quentin Tarantino’s bloody “Kill Bill”? Quentin is kind of obsessed, he’s a wild guy. But he is very brilliant. We trust that his motive is to show people the foolishness of violence rather than to glorify it. I hope that’s true.

If I could pick one defining characteristic of Quentin Tarantino it would be his obsessive glorification of violence, materalism, and junk culture (see A Dream of Perfect Reception: The Movies of Quentin Tarantino by Gary Groth). It would be like saying "I really enjoy the new Star Wars films because of their subtlety and attention to character."

Anyways, I swear this is still a music blog - I'll be posting some songs later today. I just had to get that off my chest.

With a voice as big as the the sea

Do You Hear What I Hear? - Bodies of Water

Okay, small digression here, but I'm hoping there are some readers out there who can help me understand something.

Namely, what is the big deal over this FISA thing? I mean, sure, it's a bad bill. And sure, I'm against expansive wiretapping and am not in love with the idea of total amnesty for the companies who helped it happen illegally. But honestly, if I made a list of my top 100 political priorities, this wouldn't even come close.

And yet, I've rarely seen the internet-Left more angry over something. They are just seething, bringing out all their threats, and generally throwing a huge tantrum. But every time I try to get someone to explain why this is such a big deal I get arguments that don't make much sense to me. Most of them seem to be virtually textbook cases of a logical fallacy.

"It's an example of how the Democrats in DC are willing to sell out principles."
"It justifies doing anything. If the Constitution can be thrown away for this, they could do anything they want."
"It proves they aren't willing to stand up to Bush and Cheney - they're just going to let them get away with this"

These all rely on the idea that FISA is not just a representative example of a larger phenomenon, but rather is something that by itself breaks open new possibilities for severe state intrusions. But I just don't see any reason to believe that's the case. It's easy to post hysterical analogies, but the claims are thin as tissue-paper, as far as I can tell.

We live in a democracy, an imperfect one to be sure, but a democracy nevertheless. And there are very clear lines of where the American population is going to tolerate, or not tolerate, certain actions. Obviously, those lines will shift depending on a variety of factors, but I there are a lot of things that are simply so obviously unpopular that they would never even be suggested. And most of the hysterical claims about what FISA will lead to fall easily into that category.

Which brings me to the real point. I think the big issue with FISA is much more about the backlash than it is about the Democratic senators. Sure, hold their feet to the fire when they make silly and bad votes (as they did here). But at the same time, take a look in the mirror and try to watch out for the trap of the netroots echo-chamber effect.

Because on this issue, I just don't see any real traction with the general population. They simply don't see all that much to be worried about in wiretapping. If they are concerned, it's a much more vague distaste than the hysteria of folks on the blogs. Which means that the general approach of freaking out at folks in Congress for not being "good enough" Democrats puts the cart well before the horse. When you find yourself incredibly disagreeing with not just the Republicans but also with a huge percentage of the Democratic caucus, it might be a good time to ask whether your political goals are realistic enough to merit serious consideration. After all, there is a lot of truth to the old axion that "politics is the art of the possible."

To be sure, sometimes you have to buck the trends no matter what. The Iraq war, for example, was a terrible idea and deserved being named precisely that in spite of the large support by Democrats in Congress. But these need to be exceptional cases. Otherwise you'll quickly find yourself in the hazy nowhere of Naderland, angry all the time and losing the capacity to distinguish the baby and the bathwater. Which brings me back to my original question. Is there anyone out there who can convince me that this FISA bill deserves anything close to the same response as the war? Why should I consider FISA to be so egregious to merit my legitimate and sustained outrage at the betrayal of Congressional Dems?

Absent a good answer to that, it seems like a far more productive route would be to refocus some of the reaction on persuasion. That doesn't mean abandoning the idea that our politicians ought to be held accountable, or giving up on the pressure for bills which align with the Constitution. But combine those with a much bigger outreach program to explain to folks like me why this issue deserves so much attention.

In short, if you can't make people believe that this is the big deal that you think it is, there's no reason to expect anything to change. It's easy to talk to like-minded folks about how angry you are, but I tend to think it would be more productive to put some of that energy into trying to get potential allies on your side. Because frankly, if you can't succeed at the latter task, you'll have pretty conclusively demonstrated the futility of the former.