Some things of interest

As Virginia and I prepare for our trip down to Georgia, and subsequently our wedding, I thought I'd make a short blog post before we left with some neat things I've found around the tubes.





Your objective is to not laugh:


Now try playing around with this thing for a while. I could play with this all day (WHAT SHE SAID, etc); I think it's amazing. But afterward I feel like this guy:

¿Dónde Está la Biblioteca?

I'm seeing Donald Glover at Variety Playhouse on Friday. Despite the fact that practically his whole tour (aptly named the IAMDONALD tour) is sold out, the conversations all seem to go a little like this:

"I'm seeing Donald Glover at Variety. You know, Troy from Community. The black guy on Community. That other show that comes on NBC Thursday nights."

Even so, I'm excited.

If you, like most everyone else, find yourself unfamiliar with Donald Glover (or his rap alter-ego, Childish Gambino), check out the videos below or his prolific Twitter stream.





I'll report back. I'm guessing it'll be fantastic.

Generic Distinctions

Listen to the new sales guy make cold calls from the other side of my cubicle wall all day, or pop in the headphones and load up the iPod with podcasts? As usual, I choose podcasts. Yesterday’s marathon of choice was Chris Hardwick’s gem, The Nerdist, and as I listened to the beginning of each episode, I realized something—that theme song is awesome.

As I quietly bounced at my desk, I thought to myself, “Self, this song makes me want to have lasertag dance parties,” and I tweeted as much. Mere minutes later, my friend Luca tweeted at me to tell me that it’s a real song by a real band—a band called Anamanaguchi. As he put it, an “8-bit chiptune band.”

An 8-bit what tune band? I mean, the name makes sense, when you think about it. The song sounds like an old PC from the late ‘80s was integral to the composition. But gone are the days where record stores (what are those, anyway?) were divided along such broad lines as “Alternative,” “Rock,” “Pop,” “Country” and “R&B/Hip Hop.” If you’re stocking up for your lasertag dance party, you’ll have to investigate the chiptune section of your local online music store.

Weird genres aren’t exactly breaking news, though. The cultural zeitgeist has been assigning strange monikers to music for years. You’ve heard of math rock--much to Mattie’s disappointment, they aren’t rocking about math. According to Wikipedia, “it is characterized by complex, atypical rhythmic structures (including irregular stopping and starting), angular melodies and dissonant chords.” Sounds almost as boring as math to me.

Or take shoegaze. A genre name commonly tossed around in conversations about weird genre names, I’ve never really known what shoegaze meant, exactly. Apparently it means the bands just chill on stage and stare at their shoes during their shows. While playing instruments, of course, but it would seem that energy and movement have little place on the shoegazing scene. Although Wikipedia identifies Explosions In The Sky (the band behind the awesome music in Friday Night Lights) as a shoegaze band, to be honest, I think I’d rather listen to math rock.

Michael has already extolled the virtues of nerdcore hip-hop, which, much like 8-bit chiptune music, sounds exactly like the name describes. Who can resist lyrics about Boba Fett’s jetpack layered over thumping bass? That being said, the name would certainly throw the older generation for a loop.

What about a term I first heard over at Slate that describes a particular favorite subset of mine--beardy indie-folk. In this “Justin Vernon has his thumb in every pie” era, the beards are becoming less genre-specific, but Fleet Foxes have a new album on its way out, as does Mr. Vernon himself as Bon Iver, so the genre lives on.

Maybe these hyper-specific genre distinctions make things easier for all of us, so instead of having to explain to someone, "Well, I don't like country, but I like alt-country," we can simply state our passion for "mustachioed post-cloudcore" or "language arts rock" and have that be that. After all, this is The Future, and "I like everything" just doesn't quite cut it anymore.

Anamanaguchi - Jetpack Blues, Sunset Hues

Crazy, But It Feels Alright

In the car on the way home from work today, I had an all too common experience. There I sat, minding my own business, fiddling with the radio dial because I can't be bothered to fish through my black hole of a purse to find my iPod, silently cursing traffic. One station to the next, commercial to commercial, and then it happened. I landed on a song I couldn't help but stop and listen to. In fact, a song I couldn't help but sing along to. What's worse, a song I couldn't help but dance to.

That song was Britney Spears' "Crazy."

My questionable music tastes aside, you have to admit it's a catchy tune. If you've seen the video (or the masterpiece 1999 Melissa Joan Hart/Adrien Grenier hit, "Drive Me Crazy"), you may even remember bits of Brit's dance moves. I do, and it's nearly impossible to not break them out whenever the song comes on. Even in my car.

One of these days I may have to invest in some illegally tinted windows, because I tend to make a fool out of myself on the regular. Now obviously I don't care what these people I'm never going to see again think, but it's always kind of a jarring realization to go from merrily bouncing around to cheesy pop music to noticing you're being pointed and laughed at by the boys in the Jeep up ahead. Even worse if they're cute. My usual coping mechanism is to just keep on doing what I'm doing, but I'll admit to maybe going for the more subdued dance moves when I know I'm being watched.

Britney and her '90s pop compatriots are repeat offenders when it comes to embarrassing me in the car. Other culprits? Anything with banjo and a good beat makes me bounce around a bit. When a wordy song I know all the lyrics to like "It's The End Of The World (As We Know It)" comes on, I probably look like I'm either having a seizure or yelling profusely at someone on an invisible Bluetooth. And when a catchy rap song comes on? I probably look a little bit like Michael Bolton from "Office Space." You know the feeling.

So I'll admit, I get a little embarrassed every now and then in the car. But I'm not going to stop. Because as soon as the shame passes, and a Backstreet Boys song comes on shuffle, you know you'd be rocking out to those '90s beats, too. It's the law.

What's In A Name?

It's a common occurence. You're hanging out with friends, shooting the breeze, and somebody strings together an odd combination of words. Bonus points if they're a little inebriated and the phrase makes very little sense. Then someone passes the inevitable judgment: "That would make a cool band name."

Would it, really? Would "The Homeless Plants" or "Feet Parade" really make a killer name for a band?

Maybe not. But what makes a good band name, anyway?

There are always trends. In the '60s, it was The ____. The Temptations. The Platters. The Four Tops. In the late '90s, it was bands with a number. Matchbox 20 (later amended to matchbox twenty, for a more respectable sound, y'know). Stroke 9. Blink 182. The early 2000s featured an inordinate number of Papas: Roach, Vegas, et al. In recent years, it's been wolves: Sea Wolf. Wolfmother. Wolf Parade. Wolves are decidedly more badass than articles, numbers or dads, so I'd say it's a positive trajectory.

It's easy to spot bad band names, even though they sometimes title bands that experience dubious success. Chart-topping or no, terrible band names often accompany terrible music. As Michael put it to me, "I mean, really, what did we expect from 'Limp Bizkit'?" Besides some moist pastries, not a whole lot. That era played host to a bevy of shock-rock band names-- prior to the Bizkits there were the Butthole Surfers; following the Bizkits there were Puddle of Mudd, Staind, Mudvayne and all their dirty compatriots. As if we'd be so alarmed, so appalled, so offended by the band's title that we'd be stunned into giving their music a shot. Maybe some people were; maybe some people even liked it. They certainly sold albums. But I'm going to go ahead and say grossing me out is not the best way to give your band a solid name.

So what is? By an elaborate and scientific series of brackets that puts March Madness to shame and exists only in my head, I have determined that the coolest band name of all time ever is Dr. Teeth & the Electric Mayhem. Yeah, from The Muppets. You only wish you had thought of it first.

Other cool band names, in my opinion, include: Arcade Fire. The Black Keys, subtly denoting their bluesy, gritty, minor key style. Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeroes. Iron & Wine. Some of my favorite band names simply make very little sense, but evoke an interesting image, or feature a unique cacophany of words. The very best band names may not say anything literal about the band they describe, but may be tenuously indicative of a sound, a tone. They may just make you think, "yeah, that sounds about right."

But what do I know? R.E.M. randomly picked their name out of a dictionary, and it's still pretty cool.

It's all very subjective, of course, but my advice to those of you budding rockers out there is to avoid numbers, dirt imagery and misspellings at all cost. I myself dig the ___ & the ____ construction (Hootie & the Blowfish notwithstanding. There's an exception to every rule). My future band, however, (once I master an instrument, that is, and maybe learn to sing) will be called The Muckrakers (nobody steal it, K?).

The music may be what's most important, but there's a lot to be said about a name. Who wants to eat a limp biscuit, anyway?

They Know My Name 'Cause I Told It To Them

I know this is a couple days old, which in Internet time means it’s so 2000 and late, but it’s still making me laugh: Who Is Arcade Fire?

For anyone who missed it, Arcade Fire won the Grammy for Album of the Year Sunday night with their 2010 album, The Suburbs. And apparently a few people were a little bit miffed.

The thing is, this band is everywhere. They are headlining (that’s right—headlining) Bonnaroo this summer, as was announced today. Their song Wake Up was prominently featured in every Where The Wild Things Are trailer leading up to its release in October of 2009. It was even the theme song for the 2010 Superbowl! The band themselves turned up in my favorite SNL sketch of all time, which aired in 2007. In every city in every state, somewhere there’s a hipster sipping Schlitz (PBR is so over) and not talking about Arcade Fire, because even talking about how Arcade Fire used to be cool is passé.

I mean, clearly Bieber was robbed, but where I’m the most alarmed is that there are this many people left who still put stock in the Grammys. The Grammys rank just below the People’s Choice Awards in terms of award shows I give credit to, and the People’s Choice Awards are a few rungs below even the Kids’ Choice Awards. There’s very little correlation, I think, between who wins Grammys and who is putting out good music these days, and even that small amount of correlation is incidental. The fact that this year, a good album by a good band won Album of the Year was probably the result of an errant dart throw.

But I mean, Arcade Fire? Who or what is that? How many top 10 singles do they have? I think that band The Suburbs shoulda won.

Nerdcore Heroes

Let’s jump in this people. We are going to get a little wet so you may want to take your shoes off first. I have a pretty broad taste in music. Hell, I even like country. This isn’t about country but this is about what has been trending in the music I have been listening to lately. If you checked out our new about us section you will see there is a reference to a Chiddy Bang song that I have had on repeat lately. The song is called Opposite Of Adults and I am here to explain why I “dig” it.

This will be a round trip with frequent stops. Now put your arms outside the vehicle and feel free to get up, dance and maybe even laugh a little.


About three to four years ago I was introduced to the music of MC Chris. Specifically a track called Fett’s Vette. The song is about a Star War’s bounty hunter named Boba Fett. This was the first time I realized there was anything out there known as nerdcore hip-hop. Since then I have been pretty smitten with it. Yeah, smitten.

While Fett’s Vette was the first blatantly nerdcore song I had knowingly experienced it wasn’t my first run in. While I was in high school I was exposed to an MC known as Del The Funky Homosapien. You have probably heard him in the rap portion of the Gorillaz’s Clint Eastwood. The guy has some crazy freestyle skills and isn't afraid to drop references to zelda or even Dragonball Z.

I do like "traditional" rap and hip-hop but as a white kid from the suburbs of “Hotlanta” I can’t truly relate to the lyrics of most hip-hop songs. I am not really into bling, calling girls bitches and ho’s nor am I overly interested in the paint job on my car (black and yellow, black and yellow, black and yellow, black and yellow) but I do have my share of Ludacris, Lil’ Wayne and Kanye West on my itunes.

I needed to find a middle ground somewhere between gangsta rapper Jay-Z and Nerdcore’s Beefy. Lately, guys like Chiddy Bang and Kid Cudi have started filling that void for me. So now you know why I like “that one Chiddy Bang song”. Before you move on check out this one song by Beefy (the song ends at about 4:15 but for some reason it keeps going. Sorry but this is one of the few videos I can find).

Movie Night

It's not a podcast day quite yet, but there's still plenty on the internet for your listening (and viewing) pleasure.

As featured nearly everywhere:



As featured elsewhere, including on my Facebook page, so if you're Facebook friends with me, feel free to fast forward, so to speak:



As created for Funny Or Die:

Don't you love funny internet videos? What did we do during work before they existed? Actual work? Don't make me laugh.

Rock 'N Roll High School

MTV doesn’t play music anymore. They haven’t for a long time. VH1 held out a bit longer, but Celebrity Rehab sells more adspace than Wilson Phillips music videos ever could. So where are you supposed to get your fix of bands on TV these days? Reruns, that’s where.

Television has a long and storied history of writing plotlines around bands. I bet Fonzie was in a band at some point on Happy Days, but I’m far too busy to consult Wikipedia. In any case, you need look no further than syndicated reruns or your DVD collection to find your jam.

• The Beets
  These colorful rockers were the real deal, whether they were playing arena shows or outside the Honker Burger. Based on a variety of British invasion bands, these were Doug and Skeeter’s idols, deservedly so. “I Need Mo’ Allowance”? “Killer Tofu”? Come on. The Beets were the shit. Apparently when Doug transitioned from its Nickelodeon heyday to its Disney purgatory, the Beets broke up. In protest? I’d like to think so.
  
• Zack Attack
  Hot Sundae crashed and burned when Jessie couldn’t kick her addiction, but the Zack Attack were friends forever. Or were they? We all remember the Behind The Music-esque episode about the rise and more notably, fall, of the BFFs-turned-rock-band. Still, throughout Saved By The Bell’s run, the Zack Attack appeared in a number of episodes, providing a soundtrack for Zack and Kelly’s tearjerker of a breakup and allowing us all to wonder why AC Slater sounds like Peabo Bryson when he sings.
  
• California Dreams
  This lesser known part of the Peter Engel family didn’t just feature a band, it was about a band. The Dreams were a beachy-cool rock band full of teenagers who faced all the same problems the Saved By The Bell gang faced, only they were in California. Wait a second. In any case, I still get some of their songs stuck in my head, and am currently wondering why I’ve never tried to acquire the soundtrack.
  
• Dingoes Ate My Baby
  Every laconic, spike-haired high schooler in the late ‘90s was in a band, and Daniel “Oz” Osbourne was no exception. Dingoes Ate My Baby appeared on the Buffy The Vampire Slayer scene when Oz did, simultaneously developing his character and allowing some consistency to the music played every week at the Bronze. The music was really played by Four Star Mary, and the Dingoes provided a nice respite from the usual ‘90s-lesbian-chic music that plagued early Buffy. Above all else, they have a cool name.
  
• Crucifictorious
  Most recently, the band you’ve been missing out on from the show you’re not watching, Friday Night Lights. This Christian death metal band burst onto the small-town scene, rocking all of Texas, or at least like, four or five people. Landry Clark has up and graduated, but Crucifictorious lives on in my heart and, occasionally, my trivia team name. And what a name it is, amiright?

Sadly, all my favorite TV bands seem to have broken up or gotten canceled. I guess I'll just have to hold out hope for another appearance of Mouse Rat when Parks and Recreation returns in the spring. Rock N Roll 4 Life.

That's My Jam

The other day in the car during my long, lonely commute home, a pop song came on the radio. What song it was is unimportant; use your imagination. As the opening chords drifted through my car's admittedly mediocre speaker system, I said out loud to no one, "This is my jam!"

Instantly I was taken aback. When did I become this person who constantly refers to things she enjoys as her "jam"? Every now and then, one must carefully examine one's life, and this was one of those moments. I say this phrase far too often, I deduced, and must be stopped.

As a matter of full disclosure, here is an abridged list of things I have, of late, referred to as "my jam":

Neon Trees, "Animal"

Ke$ha, "Your Love Is My Drug"

Ke$ha, "Tik Tok," only to rescind my declaration upon the realization that the song was not, in fact, "Your Love Is My Drug"

Strawberry preserves purchased by me

Communication

Neon Trees, "Animal" again-- it really is my jam

I need a new expression of appreciation. I can only assume that "That's what I'm talking about" would be every bit as absurd and out of place as "That's my jam." I'm far too ridiculous to ever simply utter, "I enjoy this particular thing, person or song." So I'm out of ideas. If you come up with any replacement catchphrases for me, do let me know.

In the meantime I'll be rocking out to the new Taylor Swift. It's my jam.

When The Morning Comes

I’ve never been much for mornings. In the same vein, I’ve never been much for morning shows, either. They’re typically overly-cheery and vapid, the audio equivalent of reading a Cosmo magazine or eating a powdered doughnut. Sugary but insubstantial.

But now that I have a grown-up job, I’ve also gained a grown-up commute. I’m held captive in my car for 40 minutes each way. There’s no means of escape. That’s 80 full minutes every day-- oftentimes more; this is Atlanta, after all—just me, alone with my thoughts and the radio.

At first, I listened to music on my iPod like I always have, but with two 30-45 minute drives a day coupled with our headphone-friendly work environment, I’m honestly all music-ed out. I have an arsenal of podcasts for the long afternoons, but for that drive into work, morning radio is almost unavoidable. Now nearly every morning, I find myself inexplicably tuned into The Bert Show on Q100.

I’ve written before about my questionable taste in music, but you should know that Q100 (“All the hits,” they promise joyfully) is not my radio station of choice. If it’s not Beiber, it’s Usher. If it’s not Usher, it’s that one Pink song where she drinks a lot. I really just don’t dig this stuff. So why do I find myself unable to touch that dial?

Something keeps me coming back. Some voodoo radio witchcraft has made me actively listen to this show. I know these peoples’ names. I am interested in what they have to say. Only I’m not! I can’t be! Why do I keep listening when I know all they’re going to talk about is the best Christmas present to buy for your “hubby” and listeners who have accidentally sexted their bosses and grandmothers? Why can’t I stop listening??

I know why. Stockholm syndrome. I’ve developed an emotional attachment to my captors, and it’s not pretty.

Is there some kind of 12-step program for this?

I Just Can't Get You Out Of My Head

You know how it can be kind of annoying when you get a song in your head and just can’t get it out? How about when having that song in your head means you’ll be replaying entire episodes of classic TV shows in your mind for days on end?

Okay, there are worse fates. But isn't it funny how, years and years later, these songs and their lyrics stick with us like the state capitals or the elements of the Periodic Table never really could? 

For some reason it's alarmingly hard to find videos of the actual intros to some of these shows on YouTube. Apparently watching theme songs for nostalgia purposes is damaging to a given media conglomerate's bottom line and must be stamped out with haste. In any case, here's a sampling of the theme songs I'll never, ever forget:

1. The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air

This song is an instant classic.Who can't identify with the Fresh Prince? There were guys who were up to no good making trouble in my neighborhood, too.

It helps that Bel Air-ing is my favorite internet meme since the Rickroll came on the scene. I guess I prefer my memes laden with cheesy 80’s pop, but if that's wrong, I don't want to be right.

2. Saved By The Bell

 Saved By The Bell was my absolute favorite throughout childhood (and let's face it, my favorite on those early high school mornings, too). My first crush that wasn't on Dale from Rescue Rangers was on Zack Morris. I dressed as Kelly Kapowski for Halloween two years ago. But this song and its 80's-tastic intro probably ranks as the most memorable thing about the show to me.

Incidentally, if you want to listen to Mikey and Mattie yell at each other about whether Saved By The Bell or Fresh Prince is the best, we've got you covered.

3. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

Yum, pizza. And Michaelangelo is best BTW.

4. Doug

Not be confused with the later version, after Doug moved to Disney and everyone started looking kind of funny and Patti Mayonnaise became tanorexic. Apparently any and all videos of the real Doug theme have been tragically stricken from YouTube. This is probably for the same reason that Doug is one of the only NickToons Netflix doesn't carry, and thus life is a cruel joke.

While we're specifically only discussing theme songs, I do want to give a shout out to such classic Doug tunes as "I Need Mo' Allowance," by the Beets, and "Bangin' On A Trash Can," by Doug, et al. They're on my iPod (for jamming purposes) and should probably be on yours, too.

5. Duck Tales

The Duck Tales theme is probably my favorite of the bunch, and I've been known to have frequent Duck Tales Dance Parties in my car. But who can resist that catchy melody? The "quack quack quack quack"? The "woo oo"? I defy you to listen to this song without at least humming along, if not totally rocking out.

I mean, come on. After all, life is like a hurricane.

I Ran (So Far Away)

I've never really been an athlete. In high school gym class, my girlfriends and I would hide out in the bathrooms during weight training or stroll around the track while reading magazines. I played rec league softball in college, but mine was more of an organizational role-- sure, I caught a few balls, hit a few, but I was never a clutch player. And prior to this summer, I'd never run a mile in my life.

But now I'm sort of a runner. Okay, so I took most of August off. And most of September. And really only started running again last week, during which I accidentally underestimated the distance of a particular route and wound up running through East Atlanta in the dark of night. Bad news. Point is, I took up running back in June, and after sporadic training and my first 5K at the end of July, I guess I can officially say I'm a runner.



A lot of people like running because you don't need any equipment-- a pair of shoes and, presumably, clothing, but other than that, you can travel light. I need more than that. Without my iPod strapped firmly to my arm, I'm useless. Being alone with my thoughts is nice and all, but I can do that while lying in bed at night. If I'm supposed to be propelling myself forward at warp speeds in a big circle for the sake of exercise, I need tunes.

I consider myself to have pretty great taste in music. It suits me, at least. But I can't run to Iron & Wine, and Mumford & Sons really doesn't get my blood pumping. You know what does? Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous, pure pop nonsense.

My running playlist features such gems as Ke$ha's "Your Love Is My Drug." Paris Hilton's "Stars Are Blind." Britney, The All-American Rejects, Cobra Starship, and more than several Taylor Swifts. My "power song" on my Nike+ is Christina Aguilera's "Keeps Getting Better." There's something about an auto-tuned, up-tempo Top 40 number that makes me run harder, better, faster, stronger.

So what am I complaining about? Nothin'. I can't really bring myself to feel guilty about these pleasures. The running shoes go on and the girliness comes out, but hey, whatever gets me through that next mile, right?

What do you listen to when you work out? Surely you've got something on your playlist that can out-embarrass mine. If not, maybe you can recommend something a little less ridiculous for me. Ideas?

WTF Happened Weezer

You may not know this, but music is important in my life. Really, I'm a big fan of music.

In particular, I'm a big fan of Weezer.

Hearing the blue album for the first time was a pretty revelatory thing for me. I was in middle school, and discovering a lot of new music on my own. This was during the dot com explosion, but my family was rocking a 14.4 modem, so the internet was basically molasses. A lot of my music came from the radio, coupled with time spent in used CD stores. I had heard Buddy Holly many times over, and always enjoyed it when I heard, but didn't know who it was. I was browsing a local CD Warehouse when I saw an album with a blue cover prominently featuring four goofy-looking dudes and the word "Weezer." Finding the band name funny, I checked the back and realized this was "that Buddy Holly band." I had some allowance saved up, so I figured... why not?

Honestly, it didn't seem like a big purchase at the time; I had no idea what to expect, so I didn't make much of it. My sister wouldn't let me change the music in her car, and that was fine.

A year or two prior, I had received a nice CD player. Three CD changer, two medium-size speakers, remote control, a variety of different pre-set equalizations along with a customization option, the works. Suffice it to say I was impressed with the quality of the product, though it may be paltry by today's standards. Anyway, I got home and innocently popped that blue CD into my CD player, completely unaware that my life was about to change, truly.

Finding the correct words to describe my feelings while listening to that album is difficult. From the celebratory surf-rock of Surf Wax America to the brooding emotionalism of Say It Ain't So to the epic build and release of Only in Dreams, Weezer's blue album perfectly encapsulated my feelings as a child on the brink of defining himself in his own terms. Perhaps you think I'm being high-falutin, and perhaps you're right, but regardless you can hardly overstate the sheer awesomeness of the blue album. Every song is catchy, every song is accessible, the whole album is just fluid and perfect.

Then I went to high school. Middle school is a hard time for most everyone, and the transition to high school is not necessarily any easier. Granted, I had a good high school experience overall, but I spent most of my freshman year trying to determine who I was. (This was predominantly subconscious, but clearly the kid walking around in blue and white striped knee socks or white pants with rainbow pinstripes has manifested this process externally.) During my freshman year I found out that Weezer had some 4 years previous released a follow-up to the blue album, Pinkerton. I bought the album by the end of the week.

Pinkerton held its own revelations for me, but not quite on the scale of the blue album. Pinkerton was different. It was strange. It was funny. It was abrasive and sexually frustrated. The solos were spazzy, the guitar lines angular. The whole album had a raw emotional feel, but it was touching and intensely personal. A great record for teenage boys, truly (and girls, too, but I always like to identify with lead singers). This album didn't leave my CD player for a solid 4 months, without exaggeration. I listened to it almost daily; even now it frustrates me how short the album is.

Weezer had pulled me in completely. They were my default favorite band for years following.

But some things had happened between Pinkerton's release and my purchase of the album. Matt Sharp, the bassist, left the band. Sales for Pinkerton were lackluster. Rivers Cuomo, the lead singer and primary songwriter, retreated to Harvard for a while. These were things I did not know.

Weezer's next album, the green album, was due out in May of 2001. Pinkerton had only been in my possession for a few months when I found out about the new album. I bought the green album the day it was released; I still remember walking the half-mile or so to the CD Warehouse near my high school.

Unabashed, super-polished pop rock. To me, that sums up the green album. Suffice it to say I was taken aback by Weezer's apparent face lift. Their personality as a band had changed. My theory has always been that Rivers took the poor sales of Pinkerton quite personally given the.... personal nature of that album. So he wrote songs that were less personal, more vague, and somehow less meaningful. Don't get me wrong, I still like the green album, but it obviously lacks the same quirkiness and charm of their first two records. And sure, I defended the album and the band vociferously, a trend that continued for the next couple of records in fact (perhaps against my better judgment), but the green album definitely left me feeling short-changed. It was a short album, but that wasn't the real problem. I just didn't understand how a band I loved so much could release such a seemingly flat album. My feelings on the album were mixed, at times hearing it as vapid, at other times lively but prosaic. Where was the dynamism? Where was the emotion? Where were the theatrics? (Pinkerton was based on Madame Butterfly, after all.)

Again, I like the green album. And in fact, my opinion on the album has changed dramatically over time, and especially in comparison to their more recent releases.

Next was Maladroit, which I liked a lot then and still like now. I think perhaps I knew that Weezer would never be what they once were, and I accepted it. Of course, they had also shifted stylistically again. This time they traded polish for distortion. Maladroit was more distorted, but also stilted and oblique, at least musically. Solos were everywhere. Huge bass lines. Crunchy guitars. (Well, except for Death and Destruction, a much lighter number in roughly the middle of the album.) They were reverting back to the abrasive sound of Pinkerton, but of course didn't get there, and they never would have.

Then I went to college, and then came Make Believe. But I'm not going to go into detail here. Or for the subsequent albums: red album (their third self-titled album a la blue and green album), Raditude, and the most recent, Hurley.

It's hard to say exactly what occurred between Maladroit and Make Believe, but it wasn't very good. Ultimately, Make Believe was forgettable. Actually, everything after Maladroit is forgettable to me. What happened? Did I grow up? Likely. Did Weezer not grow up? Also likely. But who changed more, me or them? Granted, Make Believe and its successors had a few good tracks, but also some really horrible ones. We Are All on Drugs. Really? If the title is any indication, and it is, this will be no good. The quality of songwriting has been, to me, relatively dreadful except in a handful of places. The music has been good albeit unremarkable.



Of course, I own all their albums. And I've listened to even their more recent albums many times over -- save for Hurley, which I've only listened to a couple times. I wouldn't listen to them if I didn't feel something for them. But am I just fooling myself? Can't I just let go and have fun and enjoy the music for what it is? I like to think I can. Or am I just cynical and jaded?

Measuring their impact on my life would be difficult. Those first two albums, in particular, represent and sum up a lot of my high school experience and, ultimately, myself. And while I know I'm a sucker for nostalgia, Weezer is quite clearly a different beast these days. So what the hell happened? Who changed more, Weezer, you or me?

Update: Weezer recently announced some tour dates for their "Blinkerton" tour.

You Know What I Don't Get?

You know what I don't get? People who say, "I like everything but country."

Well I like everyone except people who have unoriginal answers. Seriously, the only time it is acceptable to answer that way to a question is if you are a 7th grader in a chatroom conversation and the previous question asked was "A/S/L?"

You really like everything BUT county? You like both Rammstein and Susan Boyle? Oh wait! You're full of crap. Maybe the real flaw is the initial question. Nah. By the time you leave high school you should have a list of bands/artists to run through if someone asked you, "What kind of music do you like?"

Hell, what is so wrong with country music, anyway? You may have to search real hard for it, but there is some country on my iPod. Maybe it's because I grew up in the Southeast corner of the US that I have an appreciation for country music. Don't get me wrong; I hate some of it as well. I went to a SEC school, and there is nothing quite like a room full of people screaming, "I've Got Friends In Low Places" with their Southern twangs bouncing off the walls, but do you know what happens next? The song immediately switches to the latest rap song with a catchy beat.

Go ahead and hate country. Won't hurt my feelings. I think country will do all right without you. Personally, I think some people are lying. Here is a fact that I didn't know ten minutes ago but I know now: Garth Brooks is the #2 best-selling music artist in the US, only behind The Beatles. Talk about convenient facts to back up this rant.

How about next time someone asks you about your music interests, you just give them your opinion. If you are really clueless, go run to your Facebook account and read off the music interests you typed up six years ago and have only updated a handful of times.

I like everyone...

but Matt.