Now writing for a real blog, too

Not that this blog is "fake."  I just mean that I've started writing for a blog that I didn't make up, and one where I'll talk about stuff I actually do like rather than used to like.  My first post is a review of the Bell Orchestre show at La Tulipe this past weekend.  Check it out and come back often.  I'm doubly stoked about joining their team because Midnight Poutine was my favorite Montreal blog even before I started writing for them.

Of course, this blog will continue in full force, since there's still so, so, so much left to cover.

The Smashing Pumpkins, pt. 2: BILLY CORGAN WTF

What the fuck is this?

I'll tell you what the fuck it is.  It's Billy Corgan reciting the lyrics to "Bullet With Butterfly Wings" for a pro wrestling commercial - some steel cage match, or whatever.  He accordingly changes "rat in a cage" to "rat in a six-sided steel cage."  I can see how the song itself might fit well with wrestling-type things because it's all loud and angry and stuff, but reciting the lyrics?  A tall, pale, bald guy with a wimpy, high-pitched voice is speaking over a pro wrestling commercial?  WHAT THE FUCK, BILLY CORGAN?  Also WTF to pro wrestling, while I'm dishing out the WTFs.  

As it happens, this isn't the first time Billy Corgan has done something wrestling-related.  He appeared in a WWE match a few years ago as part of an elaborate introductory skit.  (I think it was WWE - I get the names confused because I absolutely don't give a fuck about wrestling).  In a deeply bizarre and depressing scene, Billy smashed a guitar over some wrestler's head and the two exchanged insults related to the recently-broken-up Smashing Pumpkins.  The wrestler said stuff like, "Your band broke up because of your big ego," and "Your solo project sucked."  Both of which are completely true.  (Note: Warner Entertainment took this video off of youtube.  If someone finds it somewhere, please let me know).

If only Billy Corgan would listen to the things wrestlers told him in fake, choreographed skits, he might get his career back on track again.  Instead he has sworn off album-making altogether, started fighting with his fans during concerts, publicly insulted his former band mates, and kicked out the last remaining Pumpkin (and an essential part of his sound), Jimmy Chamberlin.  Oh, and apparently he's dating Tila Tequila. 

In my last post on the Pumpkins, I directed everyone to an excellent bootleg website that offers free concert downloads from the band's full run.  The first thing that became clear to me, as I listened to the pre-reunion shows, was just how much Billy Corgan benefitted from the input of his other band mates.  The guitar interplay between him and James Iha is absolutely killer, and his chemistry with Jimmy Chamberlin borders on sublime.  Corgan's worst output has been his more solo-oriented material, like Machina I and II, The Future Embrace, and Zeitgeist.  The short-lived Zwan, on the other hand, was a return to form - great guitar work and song craft, all within the context of three-guitarist supergroup.  (Check out this song and skip to 6:00 for the guitar goods).  

I wouldn't say Corgan's transition into a giant shitfuck has made me sad, because I stopped expecting good music from him a long time ago.  At this point it makes me angry.  Angry at him for assuming all the credit for an excellent corpus of work with the Pumpkins.  The Pumpkins were a band, not Corgan's solo project.  As much as he may have been their driving force, he's also the one who fucked them up and is ruining their legacy.  

Rivers Cuomo has still got it

I submit the following video as evidence.

Proper Weezer post coming soon.  Happy Easter everyone.  

The Mid-90s Swing Revival

Contributed by Michael Schwartz

Last week I went to see Spike & Mike's Sick & Twisted Festival of Animation, my first time in years. Midway through was a clip featuring the music of the Squirrel Nut Zippers, a band I'd long forgotten about. The clip was amusing, but I was distracted, reminiscing on my days as a swinger. (sorry ma, I just couldn't get enough.)

Inspired by the films Swing Kids and Swingers!, I joined in on the Swing revival of the early-mid 90s. How could you resist the charm of young Robert Sean Leonard, Christian Bale and crew dodging the gestapo (incl. Noah Wyle) in order to dance and furtively listen to American import LPs in the listening booths at the local record shop. Just try to deny the cool after seeing this clip:

Jeez, the fedoras, the suspenders, the hardwood floors - it still gets me all tingly. This guy is a total music nerd of another generation, rifling off the names of the trumpeteers at the 5 minute mark:

"Müller! This is not one of your dance clubs!" Ooo, busted! Of course one of their buddies has to be a wheelchair-bound guitar player, making the whole purification of the Aryan Race deal more personal. It really sucks when your talented pal gets disappeared and all.

We were 16 when Hayley suggested we should take swing-dance lessons down at the community centre. Great fun. I didn't get my driver's license until years later and at that time Hayley had her learner's, meaning an adult has to be in the car whenever she drove. Luckily for us, her grandpa had moved in with the family and had a lot of spare time. He came with us and sat through the lesson each week. At the end, he would shmooze with the teacher and show him how they really used to do it back in the day.

So at the time we were plagued with the likes of The Squirrel Nut Zippers, The Cherry-Poppin Daddies, The Brian Setzer Orchestra, and Big Bad Voodoo Daddy. I can't remember a notable track from the Zippers, but the Cherry-Poppers (I never noticed the sexual innuendo in that name until right now) had a hit with "Zoot Suit Riot":

Reminds you of this guy, right?

Not such a coincidence, as The Mask came out in 1994 and tapped into this hot Swing trend. It even features the Brian Setzer Orchestra on the soundtrack. Big Bad Voodoo Daddy also had some sountrack success with a couple of tracks on the Swingers! soundtrack.

But as fun as these bands were, the real highlights of all these films are the older tracks they feature from the original swing era. We all know Louis Prima's big hit, "Sing Sing Sing," but check out how funky this one is:

No need of oversized, brightly colored suits to prove how much fun they're having.

As a teen, I took a genealogical interest in this music, digging through my Grampa's old Artie Shaw and Glen Miller records to acquaint myself with the original swing music and finding again and again that these guys from the 1930s rocked much harder than their 1990s descendants. I went out and bought a CD of Louis Prima hits that can still get a party bouncing. It's full of songs that continue to pop into my head now & then as I'm wandering around the city.

As a coda, one swing-related film that actually is quite good (aside from the not-half bad Swing Kids) is Stanley Tucci's writing/directing debut, Big Night. In the 1950s, two brothers attempt to open a restaurant serving authentic Italian food, directly in competition with the red-checkered-tablecloth joint across the street. Rent it tonight. Then cook a feast for your sweetie-pie.

Green Day: An Ode to Dookie

Last Monday, I read an article on pitchfork about Green Day transforming American Idiot into a rock-musical. This seemed like a natural (if depressing) move for a band that has so thoroughly overstepped their bounds, going from potty-mouthed punks to Bono-esque interpreters of the state of the world. The lyric, "Don't wanna be an American idiot," always struck me as a cheap attempt at political commentary by a band whose minds belonged in the gutter. Even an upsetting one, insofar as it circumvented complex issues with one shallow anti-American slogan. I remember watching in disappointment as hundreds of thousands of gleeful fans sang along to the song at Live8 in Germany. For political music, it was just too easy - like a band receiving roaring applause for shouting, "No one rocks harder than you, Cleveland!" when playing a show in Cleveland. Protest music was big after the Iraq invasion, and I felt like Green Day was cashing in, or suffering from delusions of grandeur, or both.

This is why it was especially weird realizing that American Idiot has become Green Day's seminal album - outselling all the others, winning more awards, and defining their new identity as a socially conscious punk band.  Many younger Green Day fans aren't even aware of the band's earlier output.  Though a little annoyed, I accepted this - we had our fun, stupid Green Day album, and a new generation has theirs.  I use the word "generation" because American Idiot came out a full decade after Dookie, meaning those of us who don't "get" American Idiot are just different.  We wore more flannel and our pants were looser.

I was going to write this post about a band that had sunk from unremarkable, to annoying, to borderline evil - insofar as they embody everything I hate about mainstream music today. I absolutely loved every bit of Dookie when I was twelve, but as was the nature of music consumption at the time, what I liked at twelve I hated by fourteen. Dookie quickly felt old, out of style, childish; it was fake punk for mainstream radio. I only gave it a second serious listen on Monday. 

That's when I realized it's still one of the greatest pop-rock albums ever made.

First of all, abandon any notion that Green Day is or ever was a band with rough edges. Rolling Stone nailed it in their original review of Dookie: "it's useful to remember that before mythic Brits such as the Sex Pistols and the Clash spewed distorted guitar and anarchic politics, punk essentially was the Ramones – that is, basically just the Beach Boys ultraloud and pissed off." That's what you get on Dookie - one killer hook after another, played through distorted guitars, with curse words.  

Here's one of the album's best songs, "Having a Blast," which I suspect would have been a hit single if the lyrics hadn't been about mass murder and suicide.  Turn up the volume; I dare you not to enjoy.

Here's another hidden gem - "Pulling Teeth."  Easily could have been a Weezer song if the lyrics were about Dungeons and Dragons or Japanese girls or whatever.  

The album's closer, "F.O.D.," live at Woodstock '94 (the one with mud, not fires).  Also a vivid illustration of what it was like when moshing was really popular.

And, of course, their gargantuan hit, "Basket Case."  If Billie Joe Armstrong's toolishness gets in the way of appreciating this song, I suggest closing your eyes and thinking about rollerblading.  That's how I first heard this song - I was in sixth grade, and the DJ at the rollerblading rink played it repeatedly because kids like me went absolutely apeshit over it.  (Yes, rollerblading rink).

I'm skipping over the other hits ("When I Come Around," "Longview," "Welcome to Paradise," "She") because we've heard them a million times.  But they're all equally deserving of a second chance.

If I can achieve something with this blog entry, it's to have at least a few people dig up Dookie and play it a couple times through.  At worst it will be a fun nostalgia trip.