Showing posts with label village voice. Show all posts
Showing posts with label village voice. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Pazz & Jop Voter Comments: From Kanye West to The Suburbs

Feature
Village Voice
Pazz and Jop
January 19, 2011
Link


When Arcade Fire take aim at the shopping malls (“Sprawl II [Mountains Beyond Mountains]”) while simultaneously mocking bohemian cool-hunting (“Rococo”), they’re engaging in a painfully trite contradiction: After all, what bohemian thinker in the past half-century has celebrated shopping malls? (Warhol, maybe?) And what has the bohemian’s instinctive distrust of commercialism done to commercialism except entrench it? (How many products have to be sold to us as embodying rebellion or nonconformity before we realize that our urge to rebel and not conform is how products are sold?) It’s no big revelation to note that today’s mainstream is yesterday’s cutting edge—it doesn’t matter whether we buy Converse or Nike or Vans or some currently small-time shoemaker with a Big Cartel website. Nirvana or Pavement, chillwave or slutwave—sooner or later everyone else catches up, or else it probably wasn’t worth catching up to in the first place.

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Yes, I 'Actually' Like It

Feature
Village Voice
Pazz and Jop
January 19, 2010
Link













"There should never be guilt in pleasure," John Mayer wrote this year to his nearly 2.8 million Twitter followers, in reference to a Miley Cyrus song. The 32-year-old singer, songwriter, and bluesy guitarist has also taken aim at jaded souls who acknowledge liking a popular song by saying they "actually" like it—the implication being, I guess, that you wouldn't have expected such a tasteful person to like that song, and thus that it's still, on some level, a guilty pleasure. To me, "Who Says"—the first single from Mayer's fourth major-label studio album, Battle Studies, which entered the charts at #1 to mixed reviews (or, among the circle of critics I'm friends with, no reviews at all)—isn't "just" a song about getting high. It's the anti-guilty pleasure. And yes, I "actually" like it.

Marc Hogan
Des Moines, IA

  

Monday, March 23, 2009

Live: Morrissey at Bowery Ballroom

Live Review
Village Voice
March 23, 2009
Link

Morrissey1Angela.jpg
Our unsleepable friend gets the message on an ill-wind (Angela Hogan)
Morrissey
Bowery Ballroom
Saturday, M
arch 21

"I can smell your draft," Morrissey announced upon taking the stage at the Bowery Ballroom, the smallest New York venue the former Smiths emo-crooner has played in easily Googleable internet memory. The 550-capacity Bowery Ballroom is a step down for the Pope of Mope-- last time he was in town, Moz was originally supposed to play Madison Square Garden (but ended up at Hammerstein, post-cancellations); later this week he'll be at Carnegie Hall (and Webster, but y'know). At first, I figured he was making some obsolete quip about our dank Lower East Side hygiene. Four songs in, as a plume of green smoke from the front rows climbed to the rafters, the man's point was unmistakable: "I'm not really used to this smell, and I'm warning you, it could have an interesting effect on me. If I were you, I'd stand back."

Morrissey's superfans mostly took their hero's advice, even though they're notorious huggers. And as for interesting effects, Moz was in his hoped-for charming form, chatting and gesticulating throughout a disappointingly brief 80-minute set. Current album Years of Refusal is the best since 1994's Vauxhall and I, and the evening's songs were just about evenly split between YoR, 2004's You Are the Quarry, older Morrissey solo output, and the Smiths. (2006's Ringleader of the Tormentors wuz robbed.) His longtime backing band, including bolo-tie-rocking guitarist Boz Boorer, gave tunes both new and old a muscular glam-rockabilly crunch. If intimacy was the draw, charisma and showmanship were the rewards. Also: middle-aged male semi-nudity.

Morrissey2Angela.jpg

Forget the increasingly dignified resonance of that singing voice, how about the sounds Morrissey makes? "Everybody's la-ha-ha-ha-ughing," he hiccuped on Vauxhall's "Billy Budd." "Urrrrghhh!!!!" he bellowed during fiery YAtQ single-as-polemic "Irish Blood, English Heart". On the same album's Nancy Sinatra-covered slow jam (such as it is) "Let Me Kiss You", Moz practically barked like a dog, tossing the first of three shirts into the crowd on the words "you see someone that you physically despise." He growled insults on YoR's midtempo chugger "Sorry Doesn't Help", attacking "fake humility" only a few seconds after brilliantly brushing off creepy but heartfelt fan-worship with: "Is he making fun of me? He will, one day." Backed by upright bass and accordion on "Why Don't You Find Out for Yourself" Morrissey punched the air with a lusty "oooph!"

Then again, Morrissey's voice has arguably never sounded richer than on the new record, and Saturday night's show demonstrated that's no fluke. The 49-year-old performer romped through the endless "don't give me anymore"s on YoR opener "Something Is Squeezing My Skull" with nary a gasp; his pretty a capella intro to lone encore "First of the Gang to Die"--the YAtQ track that is probably his biggest 2000s-era "hit"--showed he can do soft nuance, too. The band's punched-up power chords could start to run together at times, but they helped freshen up Smiths classics like "This Charming Man" (first song of the night) and "Ask". "It's macho military might that will bring us together," Morrissey sang at the end of the latter, changing the lyrics. The star of a stunning "How Soon Is Now?", other than Moz's initial request for a "dead cat" ("I'd like to see if I can swing it"), was a gong, crashing again and again over the effects-washed final chords. Biggest complaint: He didn't play more songs, especially from the new album (especially "It's Not Your Birthday Anymore").

The "possible greatness of any pop artist is in the greatness of their influences," Morrissey declared before early-1990s b-side "The Loop", which suggested a few of the singer's own influences with its bright guitar twang and shuffling rhythm. Videos featuring Moz heroes--including early UK rock'n'roller Vince Taylor and the New York Dolls--were projected onto the curtain after a solid if uninventive opening set of post-Arctic Monkeys Britrock by Manchester's the Courteneers. And Morrissey dedicated "Seasick, Yet Still Docked"-- a slow, self-lacerating number from 1992's Your Arsenal-- to classic gangster-movie actors Billy Hallop, George Raft, and "all the great performers of the Bowery-- all of which you have obviously forgotten." Hey man, a $75 ticket price-- before Ticketmaster and/or scalper surcharges-- doesn't guarantee connoisseurship.

No one makes melodramatic self-mockery more appealing. "I'm the type who just can't be loved," Morrissey murmured at one point. Later, after introducing the band, he contemplated aloud: "Who am I? Well, that is a question that many have died trying to answer. I can only be identified on a slab, by the scars of pain." The shtick's not all self-mockery, either: "In a few days we'll be in a slightly posher part of town, so obviously none of you will be there. Nice meeting you."--Marc Hogan

Morrissey plays Webster Hall, Wednesday, March 25, and Carnegie Hall, Thursday, March 26.

Friday, June 29, 2007

Simian Mobile Disco - Attack Decay Sustain Release

Album Review
Village Voice
June 29, 2007
Link

Populist jams for blogs and dance floors both.

Electroclash never promised to cure loneliness. As two-thirds of now-defunct U.K. psych-poppers Simian, James Ford and James Shaw kinda did. Remixed by French electro duo Justice, Simian's "We Are Your Friends" (née "Never Be Alone") has kept clubgoers company worldwide, with an award-winning video that made Kanye West act out like a jilted John McEnroe.

Under goofy sideline name Simian Mobile Disco, Ford and Shaw have now taken Justice's house-as-rock approach someplace even friendlier: house-as-pop. The English twosome's early singles got their acid-squelched synths and icy beats down, all right. But they never skimped on hooks, either, and neither does Attack Decay Sustain Release, whether it's the Go! Team's Ninja cheerleading through "It's the Beat" or New York singer Char Johnson provoking the RIAA on "Hustler." It's love song "I Believe," though, that really sets the group apart from 2007's other big-beat revivalists, draping ex-Simian bandmate Simon Lord's FutureSex'd croon in Italo-disco shimmer. By keeping its heart, the result edges out Justice's more brutal for most exciting, um, "blog house" debut of the year.

It could've been "nu rave." Ford produced U.K. indie-dance hypes Klaxons, not to mention Arctic Monkeys. Like those bands, though, Simian Mobile Disco probably logged more hours at rock festivals than raves. Barry Dobbin of former U.K. indie-poppers Clor calls out between laser-synth swoops on "Love," while "Hot Dog" takes "It's the Beat" to its logical schoolyard conclusion. Orbital-esque soundscapes "Wooden" and "Scott" clear the floor without losing the melodic flow. Always dilettantes, never snobs, Ford and Shaw here even edit their club singles down to three-minute pop songs. It's economy, stupid. Friends, indeed!

Simian Mobile Disco plays Studio B July 7, clubstudiob.com

Search This Blog

Press Mentions

"Goes over the top and stays there to very nice effect."
-- David Carr, The New York Times

"I wasn't fully convinced. But I was interested."
-- Rob Walker, The New York Times

"...as Marc Hogan wrote in Spin..."
-- Maureen Dowd, The New York Times