Following Rivers

Last week hurricane Irene made her way up the East Coast and most of my friends fled NYC. I decided that, rather than spending a few days alone without power, I would experience the ‘worst storm in a generation’ with a certain man. He lives in Philadelphia. I’ll call him William Penn. Saturday morning on the train down to the City of Brotherly Love, I listened to Lykke Li’s Wounded Rhymes. The album came out in March, but I’ve only recently listened closely.  The sultry “I Follow Rivers” slipped under my skin, like Mr. Penn. 

A tsunami of sound for Japan

At the end of March I attended a benefit concert for Japan hosted by Yoko Ono. It was the kind of last minute concert with big names that can only happen in a place like NYC. I’m on the email list for (Le) Poisson Rouge, a music venue in the West Village. The day after I received the email announcement for the benefit show, my new music pusher (a woman finally!), who I’ll call JD, sent me a message asking if I was planning to go to the show.  It was $100, but it was a benefit for Japan and in addition to Ono the bill included Cibo Matto and the legendary Patti Smith.  I had spent the weekend before out seeing a lot of live music. Yet, despite the lack of sleep, I bought the ticket and headed out to the show at 10:00 PM on a Tuesday. 

You Never Forget Your First

No, not your first love or first sexual encounter.  Your first album. The record you went and picked out yourself when you were old enough to have a choice.  My friend Slim, who owns Round Soap Records, providing all manner of musically inspired bath products, recently wrote a blog post of the same title.  His firsts were The Steve Miller Band’s Book of Dreams and Fleetwood Mac’s Rumors.  Naturally, after reading his post, I thought about my first album.  The one that I made my mom take me to the mall to buy.  It was the B-52s.  Not Cosmic Thing, which had their hits “Love Shack” and “Roam,” but rather their first full-length album, from 1979 with the infamous tune “Rock Lobster.”

Well now, aren’t we all so special?

I’m not ashamed to admit to enjoying some pretty cheesy pop tunes. On some of these pop artists, I agree with many music critics who say that they are manufactured fluff, but others I believe are bringing a little more to the table.  Lately, I’ve had a workout/running mix that includes Lady Gaga, P!nk, Katy Perry, and Ke$ha. All of whom currently have songs out about being special or being yourself. NPR’s Soundcheck recently had a discussion about whether or not these women are the new gay icons or just pandering to a gay audience. The general consensus among guests and callers was that Gaga had earned her stripes, but Perry and Ke$ha, not so much. Pink was up for debate. I agreed and wondered, why was it that these white women felt the need to establish themselves with songs about being genuinely different, as in and P!nk’s “Raise Your Glass” or being special in Katy Perry’s “Firework” or just being yourself as in Lady Gaga’s  “Born This Way” or choosing your lifestyle as in “W R Who We R” from Ke$ha?   Were they special? And would any of them be around in ten years?

Adele’s "Lovesong”

How is it that one song can tip you back to feelings that you genuinely believed were long gone? This week it’s Adele’s cover of “Lovesong,” originally written and recorded by ‘80‘s indie icons, The Cure. The only cover tune on Adele’s latest album, “Lovesong” has struck a bit of a blow. I find myself thinking about a man, who I really should be over and done with. But those lyrics, “Whenever I’m alone with you, you make me feel like I am whole again. Whenever I’m alone with you, you make me feel like I am fun again,” are simple and telling. 

"The kids are gone but the souls remain"

Last weekend my friend Suzy was in town, one of the few hip people at my staight-laced corporate day job.  Like me, she began her career in the music industry. The last time she was in New York, we went to the Brooklyn Soul Festival and discovered The Sweet Divines (see post).  I knew live music was on the agenda for the weekend, but I didn't expect that it would be Suzanne Vega or that I would get a chance to meet her.  I also didn't expect that, like the warmth of good friendship, Vega's music would be so relevant and familiar today.  Despite knowing her first two albums by heart, the songs felt more mature than I remembered; the meanings of the lyrics clearer than ever. I connected to them more now than when I was younger. 

Teenage Torture?

I first read about Shilpa Ray and Her Happy Hookers where I discover a lot of new music, Bust magazine. It’s a hip, art, crafts, and beauty magazine for those of us who still think feminism has value, but also like to wear lipstick and cute outfits. The last issue had a review of Ray’s new album Teenage and Torture which was released earlier this month.  When I went to check out their website and buy the album, I discovered that not only were they from Brooklyn, but also that they were playing that Friday at Brooklyn Bowl in Williamsburg.  But who could I drag to a concert on short notice to see a relatively obscure indie band?  And Shilpa Ray? She’s raw, edgy, and loud rock ‘n roll. I must admit, it’s not what most of my thirty and forty-something pals listen to these days.

Not Ya Mama's Mixtape

Over the past month I downloaded three new mixtapes, given away by the artists or DJs who created them.  One from Sri Lankan rapper/producer M.I.A. (ViCKi LEEKX) and another from Kid Sister, a Chicago-based rapper (KissKissKiss). The third, a ‘proper’ mixtape full of various artists, Who’s Ya Best Emcee? from Femcees is on heavy rotation in my apartment and on my iPod.  These mixtapes are not ones that you and I remember. They are not the cassette tape kind, where you spliced together your favorite songs for either a party mix or to give to that special someone.  (If you don’t know what a cassette tape is, you’re probably too young to be reading this blog). No. These mixtapes, likely the ones your teenagers are listening to, are a significant part of the hip-hop industry and a critical part of promotion.  But they do originate with those cassette tapes from back in the day.