Author Archives: peter
Darlingside, “Terrible Things”
I went with my daughter to see these four young men called Darlingside last night at the excellent Rockwood Music Hall in lower Manhattan. It’s a clever but lousy name. Darlingside, I mean. Rockwood is a clever and excellent name. We were there at the invitation of the author, John Seabrook, who is writing about the band for the New Yorker, who was there with his son Harry. Lucy and Harry were born two months apart 16 and a half years ago, and have grown up together in many ways. Rockwood is a 21+ venue. Special exceptions were granted. They were the youngest people in the room, surely, just as John and I were probably, statistically at least, the tallest. And maybe the oldest, now that I think about it.
John knew about Darlingside because his wife’s niece went to college with them recently at Williams. They’re very cute and apparently the kids at Williams thought they were great. These two things aren’t unrelated, but cuteness doesn’t diminish their skills. They are talented multi instrumentalists and harmonizers. Their first album came out yesterday and the show we saw was their first on their record-release tour. All of which is supposed to suggest that I didn’t know much about them until I listened to the album yesterday. It is full of very smart lyrics, and soft but engaging arrangements and vocals. In other words, it is not rock.
But watching their lovely show, which was thoroughly enjoyable and displayed a sense of humor the earnest songs on the album don’t, it was kind of easy to project back a few years to a band that was perhaps a little edgier, a lot less interested in being lovely and a lot more interested in telling it like it is. With drums.
Today my daughter found this old (from 2012) music video from Darlingside. It’s not hard rock by any stretch, but it’s a strong song with a rock beat and a sharp video that came way too late to hit the indie boom. But the harmonies are still front and center, and delightful, as is the dark storyline with a happy ending. This, I think, is Darlingside.
Armageddon Amuse Bouche!
Listening to Def Leppard I was not reminded of these two great songs, but both come to mind when I’m in an armageddon frame of mind.
There is a 12″ cover of the Willie Williams song, by the Clash, which I own, that goes beyond beyond. It doesn’t make me want to smoke pot, it makes me feel like I’ve smoked pot, and while the 7″ version that I found on YouTube is pretty great, it isn’t the best. While the original, which I have the 7″ of, too, is very very fine.
Patti Smith, of course. Though she screws up the armageddon line. But they’re in Sweden in 1976. Sweet.
Rihanna, “Stay”
I may have posted this song when it came out, because Sophie Muller’s video is so clear.
But in the many months since, I’ve grown attached to this slow song simply because it is a very simple song about longing. Similar to some of the tunes on Adele’s monster hit collection, this isn’t devoid of production, but it sounds like a tune.
The song was written by the falsetto-voiced dude, Mikky Ekko, who you have to assume is Scandinavian. That’s cool. It’s not rock ‘n’ roll, at all, but I like it.
The Song Machine. An early review.
A friend, John Seabrook, has written a book about modern pop songs, called The Song Machine: Inside the Hit Factory. This is a subject that screws up the faces of Rock Remnants writers and followers, or at least most of us, who think that the pop music game is simply awful.
But most of us love the pop music of our youth, at least some of it, which came in a variety of styles. The best argument against modern pop music is that it isn’t really rock, which is pretty much always true. But there is no denying that modern pop music is pop. This is the music that generates all the music industry’s profits these days.
I haven’t read John’s book yet, but an influential music industry commentator, definitely an old guy, wrote a review of it today in his newsletter. He points out some flaws, but he also nails the bit about the generational divide (not that we didn’t know that already). It is the youth who decide what qualifies as important in pop music, which is why I felt kind of flattered that I Love It was a hit last year. It sort of sounded like something I would like.
Here is what John posted on Facebook today.
Lefsetz, for those not in the music business, is the premier analyst in the industry. His newsletter truly is a must reading. Getting reviewed by him is a scrotum-tightening prospect. It happened this morning. And while it’s not all good (the “boob label” – ouch) I’ll take it. “The Song Machine: Inside The Hit Factory”: http://amzn.to/1JiBWv8
We’re not in Kansas anymore.
You will find the content of this book so offensive you will stop blaming Spotify for the death of music.
Not that it’s that good.
John Seabrook is a writer for the “New Yorker.” He specializes in covering what those in the industry already know. Which is the problem with this tome. If you work in the hit industry, you won’t learn a thing. If you’ve been paying attention to music for the past fifteen years except for the hits, you’ll keep nodding your head saying “I know that.” But the truth is we live in a bifurcated land where those playing by the old rules lose and those playing by the new take all the marbles. And the old people and those following in their footsteps don’t like it.
All the money’s in pop music. In a world of chaos, where there are more tracks than anybody can know, never mind listen to, we gravitate to that which has been anointed. Oh, not you, never you, you know better, you know what’s good, who has talent… My inbox is filled with the self-satisfied self-congratulating. As if anybody cared what they had to say. The old bands have been touring so long there’s no need to see them, they haven’t had a hit in decades and even the nostalgia is wearing thin. Yes, classic rockers and those who followed them set the world on fire, but as they say…what have you done for me lately?
Not much.
Everybody lionizes the Beatles, with their melodic tunes you could sing along to.
And then there are the classic rockers, from Hendrix to Clapton to Zeppelin with a dose of west coast thrown in for good measure. They were virtuosos testing limits who took us on adventures, they set our minds free, we stayed up all night listening to their albums, we went to the show to get closer, and we haven’t had that spirit here since 1999. Sure, songs might rule in country, where they play guitars, never underestimate the audience for that music, even as you pooh-pooh it, but in pop…
Gargantuan stars were built by MTV. But the whole world was watching and by time the door closed on the boy bands, Backstreet Boys and ‘N Sync, sales were dropping, money was missing and everybody with a computer was making music.
And out of this came…
Max Martin and Dr. Luke. The producer was king. Songs written by committee have ruled. And John Seabrook does an excellent job of telling you how these records are made, and you’ll be horrified.
Despite all the money in Rihanna and Katy Perry, no one’s bothered to explain the nougat at the center of their candy-coated productions. We’re inundated with info on their success, who they’re dating, how much money they’re making, but what’s at the core…nada.
Until now.
The book starts off with the story of Max Martin. Which begins with his mentor Denniz PoP. I wish Seabrook went deeper, talked about Karl Martin Sandberg’s, i.e. Max Martin’s, music school roots, how he became so proficient in music. But we do learn the story of Ace of Base. But from there we jump to the story of Lou Pearlman and his charges and too much of this is repeats. Those paying attention know all of it. There are a few details, but also a few mistakes… Like ‘N Sync recorded for Areola? A boob of a label? No, that’s “Ariola.” And it’s Andy Schuon, not Schoun. And most people won’t care, but those who do have a hard time taking a book seriously when there are such basic mistakes. Has anybody ever heard of Google? Or has proofreading gone out the window?
But then Max Martin gets cold, and the story truly begins. He hooks up with Dr. Luke, an arrogant prick who knows how the world works. Max asks if he can rent Luke’s studio…Luke says you can work FREE! Being talented is at most fifty percent of success, knowing how to navigate people…it’s the other fifty.
And they concoct “Since U Been Gone.”
But then comes a detour into Clive Davis, who is lionized, as if only Clive knows a hit. You know all this too.
But then comes the story of Rihanna.
And the creation of the track and hook formula.
No, they don’t write the songs the way they used to. Some make the beats and others create the topline and Seabrook does a great job of delineating how this works. If only he threw out the retread info, he’s so busy writing a survey of the past couple of decades that the good info is nearly drowned out. And the section on K-Pop is nearly superfluous. But when it comes to creating “Umbrella”…
They don’t sit in studios with guitars and pianos, writing melodies and lyrics together. At best, they do that in Nashville. Rather producers come up with beats and then they have their favorite topliners create melodies and hooks on top. And if there aren’t enough hooks in the track, they start all over. They’re in the business of hit singles, not album dreck. And they know one hook is not enough, that you’ve got to grab the public instantly and continue to thrill them.
And this formula is working.
I’m not judging it, just telling you how it is.
Could change… But this is how our biggest star, Taylor Swift, creates her music. She’s tied up with Max Martin. And so is this summer’s phenom the Weeknd. And Miley Cyrus’s hits were written by the usual suspects. And there are more players than Max and Luke, but they’re all similar, they’re men behind the curtain who create the formula, no different from junk food, that’s right, Frito-Lay adds unnatural flavorings to keep you addicted, and so do these producers.
So what we’ve got is a generation gap so wide that the boomers and even the Gen-X’ers can’t see across it. They keep clamoring for a return to what once was the same way Justin Timberlake begged for music videos to return to MTV. Music videos are now an on demand item on YouTube, and if melody and albums and all the rest of what once was comes back it will be different, and certainly made by a younger generation free from the past that understands today’s world.
This is where we are. The youngsters drive music consumption. The reason those making oldster music can’t make money on Spotify is because their audience doesn’t have time to listen. But the youngsters…they’ve got music on all the time. But we keep crapping on their music. The truth is, they’ve tuned us out. And they’re not looking for what we once had. To them, music is purely sauce, constant background noise or dance fodder…it ain’t gonna change the world, that’s for tech.
Who are Benny Blanco and Ester Dean? Are you familiar with the canon of Tricky Stewart? Believe me, he’s much more important culturally and financially than Keith Richards, whose album is sinking like a stone, despite all the fawning press. How about Stargate? And Sturken and Rogers? All the people truly driving popular culture are in this book. That’s why you should read it. And that’s why you’re gonna hate it. This is music? This is what we’ve come to?
Yes.
People want to make money. These producers have gone where the money is. The labels are following them. Songs are written in camps. And we’re so far from the garden Joni Mitchell is incapable of writing a song about it.
We’ve got all this info on legal, Don Passman writes an excellent book. People know how not to get ripped-off. But they don’t know how to succeed, because they don’t know how the game is played. Because those involved are too busy making money to slow down and tell a press that doesn’t care.
Credit Seabrook for caring. He was curious as to the genesis of his son’s musical favorites.
I just wish he’d gone deeper.
Read this. It’s not out for a couple of weeks. But make a note, pre-order it. And at times your eyes will be rolling in the back of your head as what you already know is repeated simplistically. But then comes the meat…
As for those profiled in the book…they’re too busy trying to make hits to worry about inaccurate portrayals. Because the truth is songwriting and producing are evanescent careers. As my famous friend says – put Stevie Wonder, Paul McCartney and Paul Simon in a room for a month and tell them if they write a hit we’ll have world peace…and they won’t be able to do it. You lose the pulse, your instincts are untrustworthy, you just don’t want it bad enough.
But these cats do.
And Max Martin has a career longer than the legends.
Which is why you must pay attention. “Quit Playing Games (With My Heart)” may be pablum, but it’s better than any rock ballad since. And “Since U Been Gone” is probably the best rock record of this century. And you may not know the rest of the hits in this book, but what the men don’t know, the little girls understand.
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LINK: The Great Music of Ohio
This clip is from a live show the Cramps did at the California State Mental Hospital in Napa in 1978. I found it in a blog post about the excellent music that has come from Ohio over the years. This is kind of funny because a few days ago my daughter played me some music by a band called Twenty One Pilots. They play in that style of modern rock that has a huge drum sound but no guitars, is sometimes rapping and sometimes singing, and lots and lots of added noises from various machines, which means they don’t really rock at all. But they’re from Columbus, Ohio. I asked her if she knew that and she said she didn’t care. I’m not sure why I do.
Yuck, “Get Away”
More than most of my friends here, I’m a fan of 90s indie rock. I think Pavement is major, I dig Beck, have a fondness for Bettie Seveert and the Pixies and many others.
Yesterday I read about this English band called Yuck. Good name!
And not exactly bad music, but just outright copying of music that was made 20 some odd years ago. If you are 15 years old now and into rock and heard this, I can’t argue against that. This is indie rock that sounds pretty great and fuzzy.
But on the other hand, this sound is all about marketing. It sold once, it will sell again. It peddles nostalgia to those who aren’t old enough to realize that this stuff was all done before.
In fact, you can Google Yuck and find their songs. Here’s a Bettie Seveert song instead.
The Raconteurs, “You Don’t Understand Me”
Pardon me, but this is one horrible song. Please rebut.
Luther Ingram, “If Loving You Is Wrong, I Don’t Want To Be Right”
I think I drove my mom to the hospital to see my step great grandfather who had just had a hernia operation. Or she drove and I got to go back out to the car after the perfunctories, which is where I heard this pretty much perfect pop song for the first time. (And I mean that the poetry is right on, meaning the ambiguity wins.)
This Guy Hates Jack White…
And he explains why. He doesn’t go on too long about it, either. And I think he nails it, though he could have said more and been even more right. Like, how come all those White Stripe tunes have all those tempo changes, which mean they’re not much good for dancing or getting down to it on the bedroom floor? But this guy says enough.
Not sure it makes sense to blame Jack for this (which is growing on me after a few listens):