Here is where it all began over on Carrie Brownstein’s NPR blog
__________
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Phish fans rejoiced when Carrie Brownstein announced she would listen to nothing but Phish for a week as part of her Monitor Mix blog for NPR. Brownstein is more sacrosanct than the Pope in hipster music circles, and her writing is sharp and clear. (Four of her pieces appear in this year’s Best Music Writing released by Da Capo press.) As many commented, “She could single-handedly make Phish hip.” What became evident during her week-long experiment was no matter what, some folks will never lose their Phish bias. They will always be flippant, glib, and ignorant when they comment on the band. What also became apparent was no musician can deny Phish’s talent and skill. Carrie Brownstein admires Phish.
In her own words: “At first listen, Phish comes across as a jazzy, jam-based band with leanings toward folk, funk, freak and frivolity (oh, and prog, but that throws off the alliteration). For non-Phish aficionados, here are some base references: Zappa, Beefheart, ELO, Flying Burrito Brothers and Soft Machine. But it’s just as easy to be surprised by a Phish song and have it sound like none of the aforementioned; to hear hints of classical music, the grandiosity of a Who rock opera, or the melodic prowess of Lennon/McCartney (or maybe Garcia/Lesh). If jamming scares you, then Phish’s music will be harder to take. But I like the jam, particularly in the live setting. And many of the great live bands playing today incorporate some element of jamming, sometimes to the chagrin of their fans. Stephen Malkmus (whether with Pavement or The Jicks), Yo La Tengo, Arcade Fire and Wilco are but a few of the bands that like to change up their songs on stage. And if you love Television and its wiry, taut albums but never saw the group live, then you wouldn’t know that those terse songs were jammed out Dead-style in concert, sometimes stretching well beyond the 10-minute mark.”
Bias is a funny, persnickety bitch. I spend my sunlight hours chasing it from my students’ minds. It will never be completely avoidable, but it can be deprecated down to next-to-nothing through reading, writing, and mental attentiveness. In his book Blink, Malcolm Gladwell explores all types of bias. He takes an Implicit Association Test that proves he is a racist, even though his mother is Jamaican. Gladwell knows it is wrong and ludicrous to associate black people with guns and crime, especially for a man who is half black, but deep-seeded bigotries flash in his brain before he has time to reason them away. Our minds have an impish quality we embrace or ignore, rarely acknowledge and fix. So what if our minds make narrow, snap judgments that alter the way we view reality? It doesn’t have to be that way. We don’t have to be biased. For this essay, “bias” is defined as the refusal to reason with evidence. I will adhere to René Descartes’ description of objective reality. To simplify with a cliché: if a tree falls in the forest with no one around to hear it, it does make a sound. Or in better terms: objective reality exists independent of our experience and judgment of it.
While her experiment was going on, I began the final days of a slow but short Bataan Death March of a relationship with a girl who was dismissive of Phish without ever hearing a single note; but who also worships Carrie Brownstein. Now that the relationship is done and over, I have decided to listen to nothing but Carrie Brownstein’s music for a week. Because I am a Liberal, I greeted my ex’s music and movies and food and activities with an open mind, but I cannot say I was listening too carefully when Sleater-Kinney (Brownstein’s band) was on the car stereo. Nor was I paying attention when So You Think You Can Dance? was on the television. (Yes, I tolerated that pigeon stool of a show without comment because that’s what nice boyfriends do.)
So this morning at 9:00 I turned off Jerry Garcia’s Cats Under the Stars and put on “Modern Girl” from the Sleater-Kinney album The Woods. (All my listenings will come from GrooveShark, a legal site.) Great tune with cool lyrics: “My whole life is like a picutre of a sunny day.” Clean guitar with a sincere yet swaggering voice; breaks into Bonhamesque drums and Neutral Milk Hotel orchestration. I am already appreciating Sleater-Kinney, but let me list some factors that could lead to bias on my part:
1. I know from my scant listenings there will be loud, acidic guitar, and my tolerance for that is not the highest. It does not bother me if such things give you pleasure, and I can hear the art in some of it, but it just doesn’t do it for me.
2. My ex listened to Sleater-Kinney and some very angry heavy metal in order to deal with and not deal with her emotional problems. I think she was in a physically abusive relationship in the past, and she used loud, angry music as well as harming herself to deal with it.
3. While I like all kinds of music, there was a time when the dismissal of Phish created a backlash. I spent a lot of time dumping on Radiohead just to get back at those tight-pants-wearing, posturing, hair-carefully-disheveled, sniveling twits who roamed the streets of Chicago with snide talking points ready to belittle Phish at any time.
It’s 7:00 and I’ve just arrived home from work. I would normally put on my Pandora station dedicated to Bob Dylan and Van Morrison, but I am a professional journalist, so I bring up my GrooveShark playlist, hit shuffle, and the first song is “Milkshake N’ Honey” from All Hands on the Bad One. Cool tune with clever lyrics: “This music gig doesn’t pay well, but the fans are great.” After that, I hear “What’s Mine Is Yours” from The Woods. This is a Phishy tune. Many different parts and feels, with a little prog breakdown in the middle: I imagine Ernie Stires smiling with approval.
Good musics have more in common than they don’t.
As I listen to “Leave You Behind” from All Hands on the Bad One, it occurs to me pre-text is everything. Several months ago, I was told my beer was brewed by the St. George brewery in Hampton, VA. It tasted great because I love that brewery. Halfway through the bartender told me it was straight Labatt’s. The beer turned to piss-colored InBev schwagg on my tongue. When I first heard Sleater-Kinney, it was impossible to not associate them with my girlfriend and the scars on her body. I now hear the reality, and I must say, them women in Sleater-Kinney is good, but so are the Phish.
Starting in grad school when I studied creative writing, glitzy Hollywood movies began to disgust me, but whenever I would go out to the movies, my friends would inevitably decide on a hollow and formulaic blockbuster. One night they picked Any Given Sunday. I walked out, drove home, and declared an indefinite hiatus on movie watching. I didn’t see another movie until 2005 when I watched You Me and Everyone We Know. It is still one of my favorite films. It was directed by Miranda July, who directed the Sleater-Kinney video, “Get Up.” Since I look to artists I love for the artists they love, if Miranda July digs Sleater-Kinney, then they’re well worth checking out. Many musicians have a great deal of respect for Trey Anastasio. So many, it stands to reason the musicians you respect respect him and Phish. Is that not cause for a little open-mindedness? Did my ex give Phish a more open ear after a musician she loved declared her admiration and respect for them? No. And that is a perfect example of how many people don’t understand Descartes. Cartesian reality shows us that whether you “like” something is irrelevant. Whether you or I have ever heard of it is irrelevant. Whether something is your kind of music is irrelevant, just as whether punk is my kind of music is irrelevant. Phish are one of the best live acts in the world, and that is a fact that exists independent of your acknowledgement.
It’s eight and about time for me to slow down my brain by watching some Family Guy on Hulu. “The Swimmer” is a great tune. I have put out a call on the Internet to Sleater-Kinney fans, and the first response I received was this: “Female driven ‘rock,’ if you can even call them that, is so hard to find. It’s hard to find genuine, solid, REAL, female driven music: they deliver so unabashedly. I just love to sing, rage, paint, whatever, to their music. It’s honestly good.” I agree, and I feel the feminist vibe. But I immediately wonder why my ex didn’t channel some of that feminist rage into action and get out of the abusive relationship as soon as it turned that way. She eventually moved halfway around the country to escape him, so I wonder what the last straw was and how much did she endure before it was reached. . .? If Carrie Brownstein dated guys or was in an abusive relationship with a woman, I feel she wouldn’t put up with a speck of abuse. I certainly cannot imagine her allowing someone to force her to sit on the floor.
I miss Bob Dylan and John Prine and Vetiver, but I will soldier on.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Morning dawns with the death of Captain Lou Albano: 76, natural causes. I watch two seconds of Cyndi Lauper’s “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” video before reading what David Goldstein, a writer for www.cokemachineglow.com, has to say about Sleater-Kinney:
“As to why I love them so? Well, I’d say in terms of late-20th, early 21st century, forward thinking punk-rock with an emphasis on an amazing live show, Fugazi is the only other band that comes close. As became really evident on their swan song, Sleater-Kinney melded Led Zeppelin’s technical skill and virtuosity with a DIY punk ethos. While they were far too raw and shrieky to work on a classic rock station, Brownstein’s riffs probably owe far more to Jimmy Page than say, Johnny Ramone. On The Hot Rock (produced by Roger Moutenot), she even sort of reminds me of Tom Verlaine. Janet Weiss is John Bonham with bangs. Corin Tucker’s vocals are certainly an acquired taste, but I think she’s great.
“I saw Sleater-Kinney about 14 times, and the setlist was different every time. Furthermore, Carrie Brownstein litters the stage with Townsend-style windmills and leg kicks, and their performance was the antithesis of most indie bands in that it never, ever felt phoned in. They don’t stare at their feet. Janet Weiss always looked like she was attacking her drumkit with gigantic sticks like Tommy Chong in the ‘rockfight’ scene from Up In Smoke. The only other indie act I can think of offhand that has that level of energy/spontaneity in their live show is Yo La Tengo, though Sleater-Kinney were considerably (and understandably) more visceral.”
These comments highlight the different approaches folks take to music. Goldstein takes a critical/historical approach that monitors influence. But I don’t think my ex would recognize his comments. She looked confused when I compared another of her favorites, Clutch, to Led Zeppelin. She said she had never thought of them that way, but it wouldn’t be a stretch to describe Clutch as a Zeppelin cover band. To state the obvious even further: people see live music for different reasons. I listen for serene beauty (classical and jazz), psychedelic brilliance (The Flaming Lips), or dance music executed with skill and creativity—Phish.
At this point, if there is something that bothers me about S-K it is Corin Tucker’s voice. I appreciate the guitar playing and drumming more than I do her singing. And on a purely subjective level, I enjoy Brownstein’s singing more than I do Tucker’s. I guess the raw punk swagger is getting to me. And to be honest, I am feeling a little depressed. I shudder as I try to imagine the emotional makeup of a person who listens to this type of music all the time. And I don’t mean that in a snarky or dismissive way, but I now understand a little bit of how it feels to be my ex.
For a while, this line of Dylan’s explained how I felt about her: “I wish for just one time you could walk inside my shoes, then you’d know what a drag it is to see you.” Right about now, it is the previous line: “I wish for just one time that you could walk inside my shoes, and for just that one moment I could be you.” This says a lot about the power of music and the power of S-K’s music. For isn’t that the purpose of all art? To explore the human condition? To show me what it’s like for you to be alive?
It’s time to hit the gym and then preside over a debate on Virginia’s gubernatorial race. Wow, do we have a pair of douches this time around. But before I go, I am thinking of what is at the core of the Phish experience, and that is joy. Seeing Phish is celebrating life. It was not by accident Phish named their new album Joy, nor was it by accident the first song, “Backwards Down the Numberline,” is about cherishing old friends. Whenever and wherever I see Phish, I run into old friends, dance, drink, and, yes, get stoned, but mostly have a good time. Why this bothers people I simply cannot comprehend other than to conject they’re acting out some weird form of reptilian-brain-controlled tribalism. But instead of saying “I am Avanti and you are Dravida,” they say, “I am hipster, and you are hippie.” It is an atavistic and unnecessary process of othering.
So it is now 10:18 at night on the second day of the Carrie Brownstein Project, and I have a couple declarations to make. First and foremost: Sleater-Kinney needs to get back together. Just as Trey mistakenly characterized Phish as taking away from his family and keeping him on the juice, Corin Tucker is wrong in thinking Sleater-Kinney will draw her away from her family. How about two weeks of rehearsal and live show in front of 100 people streamed live on the Internet? Think of all the cool S-K parties in bars and apartments. Think of the joy you will spread, ladies. Isn’t that why we all play music, to excise our demons blue and remedy the people’s strife? Do that every couple years, and you will make a bunch of people happy.
My second declaration/admission is that I have been listening to Miles Davis for the past 12 minutes. Listening to music, and a wide variety of music, is important to my health. I am so lucky to review albums for Jambands.com. I am so lucky to have a mom who is a music teacher. I am also so lucky to have the relationship with music I have, though I can now understand how it can fill a much narrower role. While I was listening to only Sleater-Kinney, I did not feel like listening to music all the time as I normally do. If music is solely an emotional band aid, then it becomes narrow and subjective. If music is the poetry through which you understand life, it relates to everything.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
I am now back to listening to S-K with a cushion of 33.3, Tortoise, and Nils Petter Molvaer.
Men listen to music differently than women do. It is a wonder concerts aren’t gender-specific. Men approach music with an analytical and technical lens. Women approach music on a purely emotional level.
David Goldstein writes “While I’ve never really been able to relate to Sleater-Kinney on [an emotional] level, I will say that their earlier material, say, definitely their first three records and to a lesser extent The Hot Rock, were far more on the feminist/riotgrrrrl spectrum….though not as much as Corin Tucker’s previous band, Heavens To Betsy, whose harrowing Calculated record definitely captured an early 90’s moment in time. I will say that there’s definitely an emotional aspect to their music that I’ll never be able to completely grasp because, well, shallow as it sounds, I’m not female.”
A fan who lives in my area writes “I immediately fell in love with their sound after listening to a couple of their songs. I had never heard such a raw sound come from a band comprised of only a few girls, and that was very inspiring to me as a female. Their lyrics struck a chord with me during some really tough times in my life. They sung about subjects such as sexism, war, god, suicide, love and of course heartache; all of the things a woman often thinks about and is saddened by. For so long I had listened to rock bands fronted by men, so it was refreshing to finally hear words I could relate to. Their songs gave an authentic woman’s perspective without being ultra ‘sweet.’ I would listen to their music and think to myself ‘yeah, shit happens and the world is not a pretty place, but hell, there is always tomorrow.’ It got me through the bad days, no sugar-coating needed.”
When I ask her if she thinks a man could ever fully relate to S-K on an emotional level, she responds: “I wouldn’t say that it’s not impossible…but it’s rare. Men, or at least 90% of the ones I’ve known, aren’t overly emotional beings. Society and its sexual roles are in part to blame for this. Even my current boyfriend critiques music based purely on its technicality and nothing more. I have never viewed music in that way. It’s the overall emotional feeling a song provokes and how I can relate to that feeling that draws me into it, whether it is technical or simple in form. For example, when I am in a good mood I often listen to S-K’s ‘Modern Girl’ or ‘Oh!’. However, when I’m pissed (usually after a break-up) it will be something more raw, such as ‘The Fox,’ that helps me release those types of feelings. The lyrics also play a huge part in the overall feel of a song. I think the majority of other women also connect to music in this same way.”
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
It’s raining, and S-K is out-of-rotation save a few listens to my favorite songs. Many things have become glaringly apparent in the past five days, and the only way I can express them is through the double negative:
I can’t not listen Miles Davis.
I can’t not listen to Jean Sibelius, recline on my sofa, and read Philosophy.
I can’t not listen to Django Rinehart while I make salsa.
I can’t not listen to Bob Dylan.
And, yes, I can’t not listen to Phish.
I question that local fan about my ex and S-K and emotional difficulties. She graciously responds: “Music is therapeutic in the sense that it makes you feel you are not alone. I once had a horrible break-up with someone whom I truly cared for and I was extremely depressed for a long time, and sometimes I felt that music was the only thing keeping me going. I felt like I was completely alone in my heartache, while I looked around and saw nothing but happy girls in fulfilling, loving relationships. When I found myself crying, I would put on a sad love song and almost immediately feel a bit better. The lyrics made me realize that I am not the only one who has gone through such agonizing feelings and that I too will get over it in time. Of course it didn’t eliminate my heartache completely but it helped me through each day until the depression finally subsided. Your ex is probably using music in the same type of therapeutic way, to keep her from feeling alone in her deep feelings. It’s definitely not going to cure her issues entirely especially if she is at a point where she is physically harming herself.”
Like almost all dichotomies, the male/female critical/emotional divide is guilty of creating a false dilemma, or the old a/b fallacy. Joy was leaked onto the Internet a short time after I broke up with my ex. Hearing “Backwards Down the Number Line” and “Joy” made me cry. It also made me realize on a purely emotional level that my longtime friends and family are what is important. Women may come and go, but my friends who I share and enjoy music with are what matters. And to anyone not willing to share in this Weekapaug Groove, you truly don’t know what you’re missing.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Dear A.
I want you to be happy, because this is your song, too.
**********
David Paul Kleinman is a regular contributor to the site.
