Heartbreaker and Brian Or, A Journey Towards Nashville

Last week, I wrote a piece for The Waster about Ashes and Fire, the new Ryan Adams record. If you read the article, you'll see that i am a bit hung up on Heartbreaker, the first Adams solo record*. As i briefly mention in the article, i was a Freshmen in college when i first heard it, and it was one of the first pieces of "country" music that ever spoke to me. I had no room in my piece to go back and be reminiscent about my first encounters with it, so i decided to blog about it#.

So, let's travel to the future, all the way...to the Year 2000.



Heartbreaker was released approximately three weeks into my stay as a Freshmen at Duquesne University in Pittsburgh, PA, on September 5, 2000. However, i don't think i had heard anything about the album until at least a few weeks after its release. I remember walking downtown to a now forgotten shitty record store (this is before i found Dave's Music Mine or the Record Exchange on the South Side) to buy Hearbreaker. ^

That first semester was a tough one, initially, for me. My two best friends were my roommate Matt and his girlfriend, Lisa. They broke up approximately 5 minutes after i developed friendships with both of them, and therefore, ruined my friendship circle almost as quickly as they formed it. There were other, deeper issues too, but this a blog where i talk about nerdy shit, and no one needs to read about fragile, emo Brian. Let's sum it up as such: I spent a lot of time crying, listening to sad music. Hence, i loved Heartbreaker to death.%

The 2000/2001 school year opened the doors musically for me more so than any other year in my life. I first heard Bitches Brew by Miles Davis; i bought my first Pixies record; Napster was still around and my school had insanely fast internet. But one of the biggest steps i took musically was beginning to appreciate, in some capacity, country music. In fact, if you had asked me in 1999 what kind of music i like, i would have said "Everything but country."$

Now, let's get something straight: when i say country, i don't mean Garth Brooks or Travis Tritt. That is bad 70s pop with exaggerated accents. When i say country music, i mean Hank Williams; i mean Merle Haggard; i mean Patsy Cline; i mean Johnny Cash. But you see, growing up in the 90s in New Jersey, that kind of country music was rarely, if ever, heard. So to me, country meant color blocked shirts, CMT, and hillbillies.

Ryan Adams was the gateway drug to digging into an entire genre of music that i had previously alienated myself from. I heard an honesty in Adams's songs that reminded me of punk rock - they were simply adorned, well written and nothing fancy. I could dig this. Now, granted, this music was just as influenced by rock and roll and folk music as it was country; however the twang, the harmonies, the tempo, it all bleeds country music. Even if this didn't exactly sound like Nashville of 1962, it felt like it. And, at that time, that was close enough.

Sadly, Adams as country door opener is about the only role he has played in my life (and, country music still is not my favorite genre - not even in my top 5). Much to my friend Jeff Meyer's chagrin, nothing else Adams has done has ever spoken to me in the same way. And yet, i own at least 6 Adams records and, as my article states, puts out 4-5 great songs per album. They just haven't hit me in the same way that Heartbreaker did, and so i find myself not thinking much about Adams, except when i'm thinking about how many of his songs sound the same.

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*Oddly, i have never reached back to his work with Whiskeytown, although i can almost guarantee i would enjoy it. Maybe next year...

#I've been a really bad blogger. I've been a good contributor to Multiversity Comics and to The Water, but a really bad blogger.

^Only three records bought at that store (and, oddly, all at different times, even after i found good stores): Heartbreaker, Hell Below/Stars Above by the Toadies, and Just Push Play by Aerosmith. Guess which record isn't still in my regular rotation?

%Other songs that i either convinced myself were sad, or elicited a melancholy feeling and therefore were in regular rotation: "Stay Forever" by Ween, "Butterfly" by Weezer, "I Stay Away" by Alice in Chains and "Aurora" by the Foo Fighters. So, for me at 18, sad = acoustic guitars.

$A few years earlier, i would have said "Everything but rap and country." Now, i'd say "everything but polka." Still waiting for a polka artist (non-Weird Al category) to blow my mind.

For further great reading on Ryan Adams, check out this post by the AV Club.

Movies I Should Have Seen By Now, Vol. 1: It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World

I love things that attempt something new. This may sound silly, but let's consider for a second all the media that we get every day that attempts absolutely nothing:

Reality Television attempts to make money and attract viewers. Innovation is a tertiary, at best, motivation.

Pop Music - for all the praise that Lady Gaga gets, she is really making formulaic pop music. Her presentation might be edgy, but her music is boring as fuck.

Sequels are the most lucrative and most easily green-lit type of film. With the ultra-rare exception that pops up once a decade or so, sequels try and do the same thing as the originals.

I say all of this to say that It's a Mad Mad Mad Mad World (Mad from here on out) is a pretty bad movie, but a movie that tried something.

At the time of its invention, television was beating the cinema in the battle for people's time and attention. Veteran director Stanley Kramer attempted to buck this trend by making "the ultimate comedy film," one that's scope (literally and figuratively) could never be attempted on television. For that, he succeeded.

A huge amount of top comedy talent was assembled for the film, from contemporary stars to "classic" comedians, and a huge, sprawling story was constructed around finding $350,000 buried under a "giant W."

Now, maybe at the time the comedy was cutting edge or didn't seem cliched, but to my eyes, this movie was nearly 3 hours (yes, 3 hours) full of hackiest comedy ever assembled. I expected the film to be bloated, but it was morbidly obese - every scene was just a bit too long, a bit too on the nose, and a bit too predictable.

Half of the fun for viewers during its initial run was missing for me, and that is the endless cameo spotting. Sure, i recognized Jimmy Durante and Andy Devine (and who could miss the Three Stooges?), but most of the other cast members were either totally lost on me or a case of "who is that guy?" syndrome that left me wondering what was so important about a guy driving a car that the camera wouldn't pan away for a second?

But watching the movie mad me realize that it has been a long time since a movie that was even this successful was made at such a large scale. In 2001, Rat Race was supposed to be the next Mad, but much of the talent was not A-list, and the film wasn't eagerly anticipated by fans of, well, anything. It was pitched as a family friendly film, and therefore couldn't go too blue, too weird, or, ultimately, too funny. That being said, there is a scene involving Jon Lovitz inadvertently channeling Hitler that is very, very funny.

Skip to 5:00 for the part that is actually funny.

But then i got to thinking: what would a grand-scale comedy made up of the Sid Ceasars, Milton Berles and Buddy Hacketts of today look like?

Would it be a Judd Apatow production? (Yay) Or would Happy Madison tackle it? (Boo) Who would star? Could it be anything less than a hard-R? Would you want to see it?

Let me know in the comments.

Two Random Film Related Thoughts

I took today off, as i worked all weekend, and spent most of the day lying on the couch channel surfing. Two things made me pause today:

1) I watched 1/2 of It's a Mad Mad Mad Mad World and was shocked to find out that it is two hours and forty five minutes long - that is longer than the theatrical release of 2001: A Space Odyssey, which had an intermission during its run in theaters. Look for a post about this movie later in the week.

2) Minnie Driver, then 27, played both a 28 year old and a 21 year old in 1997 (in Grosse Point Blank and Good Will Hunting, respectively). Obviously, 7 years isn't that big of a stretch, but it got me thinking: i wonder what the longest gap between two ages an actor/actress has played in the same year without the aid of makeup/wigs/prosthetics to seriously alter their appearance. I don't have an answer to this, but thought it was an interesting question.

12 Year Old Brian Vol. 1

12 Year Old Brian is a column where i write about things from my childhood that i still sincerely, non-ironically love. This isn't just limited to past experiences, but also current versions of things once loved.

Vol. 1: The DC Comics "New 52"

The new Justice League

Earlier this summer, DC Comics announced that come September, they would be canceling all current series and re-launching 52 series from #1, including Detective Comics (where the DC in DC comes from) and Action Comics, both of which have been running since the 1930s uninterrupted (and both closing in on 1000 issues). Speculation was rampant as to whether or not all current versions of the characters would no longer be in continuity (more on that "c" word in a minute), or whether or not this was simply a marketing tool to get people buying comics again.

Well, it's sort of both.

But first, let's look at that "c" word again, continuity. What makes comic books different from almost all other media is continuity. In theory, from Action Comics #1 all the way through to the last issue of the original volume, a story has been told that continues to grow, adapt and shape the lives of the characters, month in and month out. I say "in theory," because on numerous occasions, the Superman story has been re-shaped, edited, changed, and generally made to suit whatever goal the writer of that particular issue has in mind.

Unlike, say, James Bond films, which people don't expect to tell a linear, point A (Dr. No) to point Z (Quantum of Solace), story. The James Bond played currently by Daniel Craig is NOT supposed to be an older Sean Connery. There is no consistent continuity between these films (at least not in the macro sense. Sure, all the Connery movies are supposed to lead into one another, but once Bonds kept getting younger and younger, the idea that the same dude battled Goldfinger and Goldeneye became ridiculous).

But in comics, there is. Sure, time is slowed down (or else Superman would be pushing 100 and Dick Grayson, the original Robin, would be nearly 70 [as opposed to the mid-30s he is in comics]), but generally the story began with the character's creation and has continued on until present day.

This is a roll of the dice for your favorite characters, because over the course of time various writers will take your favorites down different paths. One of the beauties of comic fandom is that your favorite character might die (mine did), get resurrected (mine did), have multiple versions of different characters with the same name (mine did) and still not be even close to the most confusing character in comics.

I have been, since i was probably 5 years old, a Green Lantern fan. When i say that, i mean a fan of Hal Jordan, the 2nd character to be known as Green Lantern, introducing during the "Silver Age" of Comics (approximately 1955-1970). There was a Green Lantern before him, Alan Scott, who really has no reason to be associated with Hal Jordan other than a name (although some creative writing or, as its detractors call it, retroactive continuity [retconning] has connected them in a relatively pleasing way). With Hal Jordan came the Green Lantern Corps, an intergalactic organization of crime fighters who, like Jordan and Scott, wielded power rings that could create any image the wearer imagined.

Eventually, Hal Jordan became Parallax, an evil villain who wiped out the Green Lantern Corps, and was eventually defeated by his successor, Kyle Rayner. Who, when absorbing the avatar of willpower, Ion, became so powerful that he resurrected the Green Lantern Corps (including certain popular Lanterns). Eventually, Hal Jordan was resurrected and now there are 4 Green Lanterns that all are from Earth. This doesn't even begin to take into account the other Lantern Corps, the Guardians of the Universe, the Oath, the impurity, or various other things that only me and my nerd brethren care about.

Which is why this relaunch sort of makes sense.

The idea, according to DC Comics, is to simply tell stories again, not stories with so much baggage attached. As i said before, Green Lantern is a relatively simple tale compared to some (you could write a thesis and develop an ulcer trying to trace Hawkman's legacy), and yet to tell you even the simplest version of the story from point A to point B is so mired in muck that i'm surprised you're still reading this. So, if we start Green Lantern over at #1, and just tell stories about the future, theoretically people who don't read comics could have a convenient jumping on point to get into the discussion.

But where does that leave my nearly 25 years of reading comics? Are all the stories i loved gone? Did they never happen? Are they non-canonical, like the Gnostic Gospels ? Have i wasted all of my time reading stories that don't matter?

When i say that the stories may not matter, this leads to two responses in the comics world. Some will say "Of course they matter - they matter to you. No one is going to come in and steal your old comics - you read them, they matter, even if they don't affect what is happening today." Others will say "I've invested x number of years into reading the history of a certain character, only to have it all washed away because sales were down. What gives?"

Personally, part of what i love about comics is that this train started a long time ago, and i'm just along for a part of the ride. There will, most likely, be Superman stories long after i die, and there were Superman stories long before i was born. This is great - if i wanted to, i could go back and read the entirety of a character's creative lifetime, enjoying them through every major event, every crappy arc, every lazy bit of retconning and STILL only be as far in the story as future creators want to take it.

Have you ever read a book you wish wouldn't end? Then read comics, friend.

Or, read Marvel comics now. Because DC is changing. Big time.

The full details are still not out yet, but basically DC felt that a good chunk (all non-Batman/Green Lantern books) of their titles were limping along, either due to poor creative decisions, bad marketing, or just featuring non-worthy characters. So, a big shake up is taking place. All new #1s, lots of canceled books, lots of new books, new characters, old characters returning, and day-and-date digital comics, which means you can buy a comic for your iPad at the same time you could buy it in a store. This doesn't sound like a huge deal, but again, we'll come back to this in a minute.

You may have heard via the main stream media certain changes: Superman and Lois Lane are no longer married and, actually, have never been married. Many of the characters have been de-aged, so instead of someone looking 35, they now look 25. Superheroes have only existed for 5 years* in the new DC universe (henceforth, the DCnU). More ethnic, sexual and gender diversity in the heroes. Yadda yadda.

So what does your resident nerd, and comic book reader since 1987, think about this?

I don't know.

Reason i do like it: More people reading comics is good for everyone. Day-and-date digital sales means that people will be downloading comics on the way to work and won't have to track down their increasingly hard to find/far away "local" comic book store. Certain characters (again, Hawkman) will benefit from a more streamlined approach.

What i don't like: Even if the general public hates a certain story, it is someone's favorite story. Even though certain events still "happened," many won't have happened. I don't like the idea that new fans are always more important than old fans. I don't like a lot of the art i've been seeing, which is very '90s looking (big muscles, big guns, stupid collars). I wish that digital comics were priced according to the digital music model (99 cents instead of the same as the print version $2.99, which is DC's current price).

Ultimately, the question has to be asked, why do you read comics? If the answer is for good stories and art, then hopefully this will be a good thing. If you read comics for nostalgia, then you're shit out of luck. If you're like me and read comics for both reasons, you're very confused.

I could write 40,000 words on this, but i'll end it here (for now). What do you think?

Note: I purposely didn't cover prior reboots or go too deep into retconning because it would bore you to tears. Crisis on Infinite Earths alone could give you an aneurysm.

*Even if they fudge the facts on Batman and say he had even ten years extra hiding in the shadows of Gotham City, there have been 4 Robins with extended careers are Robin, plus time in between each, and years before the first - how can you do that in 15 years?

Reason #68763930 why John Flansburgh is one of my heroes

He perfectly describes the contradictory nature of pop music. From this interview from the AV Club:

AVC: We had a brief email exchange yesterday about the hugely positive reaction to your A.V. Undercover performance. You said, “It seems like a little bit of joy directly expressed can be quite resonant in this grey world.” In spite of all the songs you do about death and disaster and misery, that sounds like a TMBG mission statement.

JF: Yeah, that’s what art is, right? If you think about it, life is a one-way ticket. [Laughs.] But while we’re here, you got to make the most of it. Now I sound like the guy at the end of the bar. The “Tubthumping” thing is especially weird, because it’s a song you almost can’t like with your conscious mind. It’s all those things about a popular song that are kind of manipulative—or, not manipulative, they overwhelm you. It’s such a hooky song, it goes from hook to hook to hook. It’s such an earworm kind of a song. It’s like the Steven Spielberg of songs. You just feel like you’ve been lassoed and dragged into its presence. It’s overwhelming.

AVC: Is anything wrong with that?

JF: Well, if you like being lassoed. No, I don’t know. Did you walk out of E.T. feeling like, “That was normal”? Or did you feel like you were kind of… I feel like I have a love-hate relationship with the hooky, the impossible catchy song. I feel like the world has a love-hate relationship with that kind of thing. Because it’s relentless. I’ve been singing the song “The Longest Time” by Billy Joel for 20 years. And I don’t even particularly care for Billy Joel’s music. A good friend of mine is a huge Billy Joel fan. I love Elton John, but as far as those classic popmeisters go, I find Billy Joel very hard. I want my mind back from that. [Starts singing melody to “The Longest Time.”] I cannot tell you. Three times a day, I think about that song. It drives me crazy.

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Beyond excited to see They Might Be Giants tonight.

You'd Be Surprised Vol. 2

"You'd Be Surprised" is a blog series where i write about songs (and maybe other things in the future) that i think would surprise many people that i truly love.

Volume 1: "Make Your Own Kind of Music" by Mama Cass Elliot



Like everyone, there are gaping holes in my musical knowledge. When i first heard Ornette Coleman, for instance, playing free jazz without a chordal instrument, i felt like i was hearing something entirely new and couldn't believe i've never heard it before. Other times, it is hearing a side-project or a one-off single by a band you thought you knew everything about. Or, like in the case of this song, you just flat out don't know a song that was a minor hit 15 or so years before you were born.

Sure, i know the Mamas and the Papas - "California Dreamin'," "Monday Monday," whatever the name of that "and everyone's getting fat 'cept Mama Cass" song is called, but i knew very little of the solo careers (if there were any) by any of the M&Ps. The most i knew was that lead Papa John Phillips had a weird and, supposedly, great solo album called John, The Wolf King of L.A. which i still want to hear for the name alone.

Then, I started to watch LOST.

And, for those of you who still haven't watched LOST, don't watch this scene. Really. It is one of the greatest scenes of the whole show, and if you haven't seen the series from the beginning, you don't want to see this scene. That being said, what the fuck is wrong with you for not watching LOST? Let the haters hate - the show is top notch (not perfect, but top notch).

This scene introduced me to this song:



Now, even without the song, that is an amazing scene. However, there is something so heartbreaking and sad about Desmond listening to a song about individuality when you learn that he has been doing the same task for YEARS, unable to live his own life at all, but just PUSH. THE. DAMN. BUTTON.

Now, Elliot didn't write the song (husband and wife songwriting team Mann/Weil did), but her strong, powerful voice really sells the words, as does the understated-as-much-as-a-pop-single-in-1969-could be. The Mamas and the Papas were still recording and playing live at this point, and the record wasn't a huge hit, peaking at only #36 on the Billboard Singles Chart.

For reasons altogether unknown to me, this song fuckin' moves me. The other day i was created a chord chart for it (i'm playing in a band for a party in September, and this is one of the songs our female vocalist chose), and i had to stop charting because of the tears falling down my face. Why? I have no idea. It just moves me.

Much like "Human," this song just shakes me to my core and makes me feel vulnerable, inspired and joyous all at once. It can't be the lyrics which, although are a great message, are a little hokey. It can't be the instrumentation, which is a little too Lawrence Welk for my taste. It is good despite itself.

And if it moves me, why do i have to investigate exactly why? Why can't i just let it be something i love and move on?

Because i'm stupid.

Which must also be the case for most musicians, as this song has no great cover versions. Get on it, Neko Case!

'Til next time,
Brian

Ten Years Ago, This Was It

This year marks the tenth anniversary of the Strokes' debut album, Is This It. Stereogum has marked this by putting together a tribute record, which you can hear here. Reading some of the quotes by the artists in the liner notes got me thinking about my relationship to the album which was, at the time, vitriolic and is now much, much more pleasant.

Why did i initially hate the Strokes?



When the album was released, i was 19 years old and entering my sophomore year of college. This was the apex of me thinking that i knew better than anyone else what made good music, and felt it was my duty to be the local bullshit detector for any record released. I hated the fact that many of my friends listened to, heavens forbid, pop music, and let them know how much i disapproved at every possible moment. I equally hated the rap/rock hybrids that seemed to be absolutely everywhere. As my good friend Matt Popovich said about some long-forgotten shitty aggro-band, "This music is only good for pro-wrestling montages."

And so when i started reading all the pre-release hype for Is This It, i was very excited for the album. "The most exciting album in 20 years" is a quote that particularly stands out for me. People i trusted, like David Fricke and Rob Sheffield of Rolling Stone, or the pre-total-influence-on-the-entirety-of-the-internet Pitchfork staff, were on board with the record, and so i was eagerly anticipating its release.

In fact, i convinced a friend with only a passing interest in decent music (sorry, Ryan Schwoeble) to come with me to pick up the album the day it was released, and i remember very excitedly peeling off the shrink wrap and obnoxious sticker holding back the most exciting record i'd ever hear from my grasp and shoving it into Ryan's car's CD player and waiting to be blown away.

And what i got sounded, to me, like the worst Velvet Underground impression i had ever heard.

This was exciting? A record with zero dynamics was exciting?

To me, exciting was "Tame" by the Pixies, a song that fluctuated from whispers to blood-curling-shit-your-pants-scary screams in a matter of seconds. Exciting was an epic like Weezer's "Only in Dreams" that ran the gamut from solo bass to dueling guitar solo devastation. Exciting was an album where every song had a distinct sound that built something new together.


This is exciting music.

This was not that - this was like the Ramones if you took everything great about the Ramones and tossed it out the window. This sucked.

As the only sane person in a world of insanity, i tried to tell everyone i could about how lame the Strokes were. "The vocals are buried in the mix and distorted!" "The drums are too precise and rarely swing!" "The basslines are the only good part!" (Plus, their drummer was dating Drew Barrymore, so fuck that guy, right?)

Every few months, i would pull the record out and listen to it again, to make sure that i didn't miss something important that i had missed. If i could only find the decoder ring in my Ovaltine, i could crack the case of the overhyped buzz band...

Eventually, i forgot that the Strokes ever mattered (as did the rest of the world), and i moved on with my vitriol to more apparent topics (Creed, blink-182, boy bands). Occasionally, i'd hear "Last Night" or "Someday" on the radio and i wouldn't hate it as much as i remembered, eventually reasoning that the Strokes were a singles band that should never make an album. It was easy to love the songs one at a time, but a record was a mistake, like eating too many Twizzlers in a row.



And, as i got older, my tastes expanded. I heard things like Neu!, and their classic "Hallogallo," which features drums so sturdy and non-swingy that they appear to be played by a robot. I began to listen to more classical music, where melodies weren't as overtly out-front as i was used to. I also calmed down a lot, and saved my anger at things like Omar Minaya and Willie Randolph's mismanagement of the Mets or people who didn't recycle (which, i think we can all agree, are a little more important than whether you prefer the Olivia Tremor Control to Neutral Milk Hotel*).

Now, when my iTunes plucks out "Hard to Explain," i enjoy it and smile. I rarely, if ever, put Is This It on for a complete listen, but i respect and enjoy it much more than i did a decade ago. What is funny is that i'm pretty sure that most people have a converse relationship with this album - it was their jam for 4 months, and then they put it away and never really thought about it again and when they hear it now, they forget what all the fuss was about. Everyone, that is, except for Rolling Stone, which recently listed this as the second best album of the decade, which is the fucking craziest thing i've heard in a long time. Is This It is a good record with a couple of great songs (the title track, "Last Night"), but it was hardly the starting gun for the rock and roll revolution it was supposed to be.

The foreign, sexier cover

*Everyone picks NMH, but i'm an OTC man.