Why is David Grohl being blasted for what he said at the Grammys?

I watched the Grammys…well, part of them, at least the parts the Foo Fighters were on.  Yes, I’m going to be biased here since I am a fan of the band, but I found nothing wrong with what he said.  In fact, I clapped out loud (to myself, mind you) and said “Hell yeah!  That’s right!” when he said it.  Yet, some music press and music artists were openly critical about what he said, saying he essentially denigrated a musical form different from his own.

Here is what he said (thank you, LA Weekly):

“This is a great honor, because this record was a special record for our band. Rather than go to the best studio in the world down the street in Hollywood and rather than use all of the fanciest computers that money can buy, we made this one in my garage with some microphones and a tape machine...

“To me this award means a lot because it shows that the human element of music is what's important. Singing into a microphone and learning to play an instrument and learning to do your craft, that's the most important thing for people to do.

"It's not about being perfect, it's not about sounding absolutely correct, it's not about what goes on in a computer. It's about what goes on in here [your heart] and what goes on in here [your head].”

I suppose you could take the comment about “not about what goes on in a computer” could be construed as blasting electronic music, but I didn’t hear it that way.  He later clarified his comment to say he loves electronic music, he LOVES Skrillex, et al, but why did he even need to go there?  What I heard was “if you can’t sing the note, you should lower the key or not sing it.”  I heard “despite technological advances and all, you can still use the old stuff to record your music.”  I heard “music is emotion, baby!”  I thought he was blasting auto-tune and digital pitch correction and how music now recorded on computers doesn’t have the warmth that older records had.  Honestly, they don’t.  There’s a reason why vinyl has grown in popularity recently—a lot of the music pressed to vinyl was recorded on analog (I do know that some newer stuff was recorded digitally).

I didn’t hear his comments as a dig on musicians that use turntables and computers to create music.  There’s as much practice and heart in that music as there is in using a guitar or drums or oboe or whatever.  The voice is an instrument; you use it to create music.  Turntablists have been able to take recorded music and manipulate it into a fresh musical number; listen to Steinski.  Apart from probably pissing off some copyright lawyers and a few music artists, he offered a very fresh take on rap and dance music back in his heyday.  Listen to Flying Lotus’ Cosmogramma, which is an amazing record and an example of the advancement in the use of computers to create music.

Not all electronic artists are created equal, however.  For every Prodigy or Kraftwerk, there’s a Deadmau5 or Owl City.  I’m sorry, I didn’t find the last Deadmau5 record to be that innovative, and I threw in Owl City because, while “Fireflies” was a hit, that album is so lame.  Some writers keep harping that electronic music is the direction, the future of music, but it’s been around for years.  Heck, it’s been around for decades.  Yet people still pick up guitars, people still play piano, people still hit tambourines.  As forward-thinking as electronic music is proclaimed to be, it still doesn’t suit every listener.

The Foo Fighters are not originals, no doubt.  Their music is the same as rock music of the 1990s, the 1980s, the 1970s, etc.  They’re a popular band who rose from the ashes of a once-considered original band, Nirvana, which was really derivative of the punk and new wave rising in the late 1970s and 1980s.  David Grohl shouldn’t be criticized for having an opinion.  If he is, then the ones doing the critiquing should explain themselves for some of the garbage that has made it on the radio, on YouTube, and anywhere else.

A Case Study

The last few weeks I have been contemplating music and how certain artists I in general like have released albums recently that either felt like the defining statement in the artist’s catalog or a regression from previous work.  I initially was thinking about the Kings of Leon’s albums from Youth and Young Manhood to Come Around Sundown, then Coldplay’s recent effort, Mylo Xyloto, which I haven’t fully heard but the reviews I have read suggest this is along the lines of X&Y, which was a disappointment.  So then I thought “why not listen to most of, if not all, of an artist’s music catalog and give my impression” (however lowly that impression really means in the grand scheme of things), which leads me to my “case study” ideas.

With these studies, my goal is to really hear how the band’s sound has evolved from album to album and give an assessment of where I think the band is.  I don’t want it to come off as a retrospective or some biography about the band.  I do, however, want to see how my interest in the band and music in general has evolved from the time the record first came out.  So, I thought I’d start with a band who I believe released one of the best albums so far in 2011 – the Foo Fighters.

Case Study:  Foo Fighters

The Foo Fighters have officially released seven studio albums, one live album, and one compilation album of their hits:

·         Foo Fighters (1995)

·         The Colour and the Shape (1997)

·         There Is Nothing Left to Lose (1999)

·         One by One (2002)

·         In Your Honor (2005)

·         Skin and Bones (2006)

·         Echoes, Silence, Patience & Grace (2007)

·         Greatest Hits (2009)

·         Wasting Light (2011)

I will attempt to be as concise as possible, but knowing me I will go off on a tangent about an album or seven, so bare with me.

Foo Fighters:  I remember when this record came out, which happened to be a little over a year after Kurt Cobain died and Nirvana ceased to exist.  Dave Grohl, the drummer for Nirvana for its biggest albums, was the ultimate drummer, and I wondered what would happen to him now that this gig was up.  I didn’t know that he had put together this hodge podge of songs, let alone played all the instruments.  For a debut, this is definitely a great kickoff.  As a teenager I was drawn to the energy behind each song, particularly the hits—“This Is a Call”, “I’ll Stick Around”, and “Big Me”.  “I’ll Stick Around” even had controversy surrounding it, with media and Nirvana fans wondering if Grohl was taking a swipe at Cobain in the lyrics (as I recall, ANYTHING that had something to do with Nirvana at that point was controversial).  Musically this record features some of the dynamics and volume that would be taken to new heights through the rest of their catalog (particularly their hard rockers), even if it wasn’t nearly as loud as future releases would be.  Lyrically the experience is sort of up and down; the singles were definitely the better lyrical songs of the set.  All in all, for any band this would be a tremendous start.

The Colour and the Shape:  Until recently, I felt that this was the best album they had recorded.  Unlike on Foo Fighters, Grohl was backed by permanent bassist Nate Mendel, drummer William Goldsmith (who would shortly after this record would be replaced by now drummer Taylor Hawkins), and frequent collaborator and guitarist Pat Smear (who also played with Nirvana).  This album takes dynamics, soft and loud, to levels far superior to the debut.  Cohesively this record also surpasses the debut, with Grohl writing most of the songs around a crumbling relationship.  Lyrically this is a great record.  Tie the musically dynamics to this, and you become emotionally a part of the music.  From “Monkeywrench” (a fantastic rocker) to “New Way Home”, the Foos made this amazing record that many fans and critics considered their best.  It certainly plays out of the speakers that way.  The best songs to me on this set are “Monkeywrench”, “Hey Johnny Park!”, “My Hero” and the ultimate “Everlong”.

There Is Nothing Left to Lose and One by One:  Stylistically these two records are somewhat similar, with the lineup now becoming fixed for the long haul (Grohl, Mendel and Hawkins recorded Nothing Left, Shiflett joined up on One by One) and growing into their roles within the band.  Both records maintain that musical blueprint that began on Foo Fighters, though they attempted to expand the sounds used on their records.  I like One by One; Nothing Left to Lose is my least favorite of theirs (ironically, Grohl likes Nothing Left to Lose but hates One by One).  Both albums had some great songs, but there were elements on the first two records that just didn’t feel like they were there on these.  Neither is lyrically up to snuff compared to The Colour and the Shape, though the highlights from each record (from Nothing Left to Lose, there was “Breakout”, “Stacked Actors”, and “Learn to Fly”; from One by One, there was “One by One”, “Times Like These”, and “Have It All”) are very good.  “Times Like These” in particular seems to hint at what the future would be like for the band.  To me the band seemed to stagnate a bit here, though their popularity continued to build.

In Your Honor, Skin and Bones, and Echoes, Silence, Patience & Grace:  These three records represented a bit of a departure in sound for the band.  While they still were very good with the hard rock tunes (“In Your Honor”, “No Way Back”, “DOA”, “The Pretender”, “Erase/Replace”, and “Cheer Up, Boys”), their exploration into softer dynamics expanded exponentially compared to their first four records.  There were a lot more acoustic songs, a lot more softer sounding songs.  All of Skin and Bones is an acoustic retrospective of their music, the bulk of which came from In Your Honor (disc 2 of that record was practically an acoustic affair).  Results were mixed on both musical and lyrical fronts.  “Best of You” is the best lyrical song from either record.  “What If I Do?”, “Miracle”, “Let It Die”, and “Long Road to Ruin” are all great songs.  What I worried about with these records was if the band was starting to lose its identity.  I loved them for their harder stuff, and that seemed to be taking a back seat for this softer side.  At the same time, I started to think that maybe by growing older and more mature they (particularly Grohl) were starting to think about their long-term legacy and that the progression could lead to better stuff down the road.  I thought about how other bands I love (the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, Eric Clapton, Pearl Jam, the Beastie Boys, etc) had evolved and how the Foos were evolving.  Something had to give.

Wasting Light:  When this record came out, I realized that my latter feelings were true.  This is my favorite record and, in my opinion, their best record.  They returned to the hard rocking they had done on Nothing Left to Lose and One by One though channeled the music through the melodicism of The Colour and the Shape and In Your Honor.  Each song is consistently good much like The Colour and the Shape, not hampered by the filler songs that had burdened all of the previous records.  The recording sounded more organic than it had on previous records.  Lyrically this is their best record despite not being as cohesive as that of The Colour and the Shape.  I can listen to this record from beginning to end and repeat and not tire of it.  The band plays to their strengths here, which is rocking and rocking hard.  My favorites on this record are “Rope”, “Dear Rosemary” (with Bob Mould), “White Limo”, “Arlandria”, and “Miss the Misery”, though I really like the majority of the record.  This is also their best reviewed record (not counting Greatest Hits).

Listening through their records, I better appreciate the progression the band has taken up through now.  While they have gone through creative ebbs and flows, the Foo Fighters have managed to sustain their excellence by staying true to themselves and releasing the music they feel best represents them.  They have also managed to maintain their sense of humor through nearly two decades of recording and performing.  They’re a great band that I hope continues to push themselves as they have.

End of a Band, End of an Era

After 30-plus years of writing and performing, R.E.M. (or its remaining members) posted yesterday that they were calling it a day.  Most people probably feel they should have called it years ago when Bill Berry, their original drummer and a strong contributor to the songwriting, retired to his farm in Georgia after having just had an aneurysm a couple of years before.  The band never really seemed to be the same after he left.  Sure, they had flashes of their rich history with songs like “The Great Beyond” and “Imitation of Life”, but I have to believe that at that point the remaining members—Michael Stipe, Peter Buck, and Mike Mills—were so busy with other projects and the loss of Berry as a regular member that maybe they knew like the rest of us that the fire was dwindling.  Even if Accelerate and Collapse into Now seemed to hint at a rebirth, the original four were still the best band.

I more or less have always liked R.E.M., so instead of mourning them, I’m going to praise them and thank them for writing music that has had a long-lasting effect on me.  Since hearing “It’s the End of the World as We Know It” on pop rock radio when I was eight or nine, I have at the least followed their material if not made an effort to buy their records.  I am glad I got to see them on the Monster Tour back in 1995, their first since they toured on Green in 1989.  Their music is as much a part of how I play guitar as that of the Beatles or the Stones.  Peter Buck’s chiming guitar is a part of my musical fabric.

Speaking of Monster, that album just might be my favorite of theirs.  Insane thought, perhaps, but when I think about the adolescent energy that went into that record, moving away from the thoughtful and mature Out of Time and Automatic for the People, I just get excited about the music.  “Crush with Eyeliner”, “I Don’t Sleep, I Dream”, “Strange Currencies”…these, along with many of the others on that album, were songs that I could crank up with them and just enjoy.  Not that I didn’t enjoy other songs the same way—“The One I Love” and “Driver 8” were similar—but Monster was that reintroduction that became an event.

R.E.M. released 15 studio albums, 10 compilations, and 3 EPs.  They also released 56 videos, most of which appeared on MTV when MTV used to be about music and used to show videos.  Their videos were events…the “Losing My Religion” video and song were played so frequently back then that I had to take a break from listening to them for fear of burnout.  They released some great material that affected a lot of people.  We should be praising them.  They had a great career as a band.

My Current Band Obsession

The Drive-By Truckers (further as “DBT”) are on my Metacritic list twice for Decoration Day and The Dirty South.  I really first heard them when I downloaded “Used to Be a Cop” as part of a free sample from Spin magazine back in March.  It’s a relatively long track (just over 7 minutes long), but it had a good groove and an interesting storyline.  Intrigued, I found two of their albums at my local library, Go-Go Boots and Brighter Than Creation’s Dark, and gave each a listen.  I also happened to hear “This F**king Job” on Outlaw Country around then, and my obsession kicked in.

What DBT has that other country/rock/country rock outfits don’t is their ambitious songwriting.  They have never feared from writing conceptual albums.  They have never feared from paying tribute.  Patterson Hood and Mike Cooley primarily write the songs with assists from a rotating cast of members, including Rob Malone, Jason Isbell, and Shonna Tucker.  They typically feature a three-guitar attack, and their sound is rock driven.  Their sound borrows a lot from bands like Lynyrd Skynyrd and the Allman Brothers Band, both rock powerhouse bands known for their country/blues/rock sound and powerful guitar attack.  I wouldn’t characterize the guitar playing of DBT as good as the aforementioned bands, but they’re certainly not bad by any means.

I mentioned DBT does not shy away from concept albums.  No truer is this than on the album Southern Rock Opera, which I’m listening to as I write this.  Southern Rock Opera is part tribute to Lynyrd Skynyrd, part historical reference, and all opus.  Some of it is fictional, but over the two acts the band tells the history of life in the South through the eyes of a fictional band.  Southern Rock Opera is an amazing record so far…probably my favorite of theirs.  You can tell through listening to it that Hood, Cooley and Malone put a lot of heart into this record.

More Rolling Stone Fallout

I know there are many people who will look at Rolling Stone’s “100 Best Albums of the 2000s” and think something along the lines of “all of these albums are great albums and deserving of being on this list” or “Get Rich or Die Tryin’ changed my life”.  People are entitled to whatever opinion they have, but sometimes in our music buying ways I think we place too much emphasis on an artist’s or band’s popularity and less on that artist’s or band’s art they’re releasing to us.  This list feels like the former.

I won’t deny that the Killers’ Hot Fuss deserved to be here; it does, because in the two years that followed its release the band released several killer singles (“Somebody Told Me”, “Mr. Brightside”, “Smile Like You Mean It”) and had an influence on a few bands that followed, even if the rest of the album didn’t reach the standards of those songs.  On the other hand, I have a hard time justifying Stadium Arcadium by the Red Hot Chili Peppers being as high as it was on the list (#74).  The Chilis have been a favorite band of mine for a long time, but even I can’t deny that their sound has been more or less the same since their last great record, Californication, came out.  Stadium was more about quantity than it was about quality to me.  There were few catchy tunes where I thought “Wow, they haven’t dropped a beat from Blood Sugar Sex Magix!”  Large chunks of it sounded like Kiedis was droning lyrics and Frusciante was noodling on guitar.  Had that album been edited down to one disc instead of two with the best tracks on the table, I would have argued the exact opposite.

I thought some of the album choices for certain artists were off.  For instance, the Rolling Stone list had Attack & Release (#83) from one of my current favorite bands, the Black Keys.  I like that album a lot (it did have “I Got Mine” and “Strange Times”), but if I were to choose any album of theirs for this list, it would be Rubber Factory, which had more quality songs (this could be a case where they selected the more popular album than the more artistic album, but I digress).  Another is indie band the Hold Steady’s Almost Killed Me (#99); I would have put Separation Sunday, which received better reviews and essentially started the trilogy of albums that created more buzz around them.  Beck’s Sea Change album (#17) was good but didn’t have nearly the popularity as Guero did, and Guero had better singles.  They put Electric Version (#79) from the New Pornographers in but not Twin Cinema.  Some stuff just didn’t make any sense.  And why in the world did they include Rated R (#82) from Queens of the Stone Age and not include Songs for the Deaf.  Songs for the Deaf single-handedly changed my opinion of rock music in the middle of the decade (I could love it again).

There were albums and artists I felt Rolling Stone did right in including.  Kanye West has four albums on here; two of them are landmark rap albums (The College Dropout @ #10 and Late Registration @ #40), and one of them didn’t get nearly the credit it deserved (808s and Heartbreak @ #63 kicked off artists’ love of auto-tune, for better and worse).  Jay-Z has his two best from the period:  The Black Album (#14) and The Blueprint (#4).  Radiohead has four albums here; Kid A is #1, and I have a hard time wrapping my mind around that.  Kid A was a good record but not a landmark record, especially for them.  I wouldn’t even put Kid A in the top four of albums they have released, let alone #1 on a “Best of” list.

I was also happy with some of the surprise artists on here—Amadou & Mariam, The Hives, Yo La Tengo, Elliott Smith.  The albums they chose for these artists (with the exception of The Hives’ Veni Vidi Vicious) I might take exception with to another better record, but those are quibbles.  Spoon gets Kill the Moonlight in at #51, and I was glad to see Britt Daniel and company get recognition. 

This all leads back to one of my points from earlier, which is Rolling Stone needs to commit to an audience (those infatuated with pop culture) and just leave the other audience to find their own magazines (the indies).  By trying to add a little color through putting some indie albums on their list, they think they can appeal to a wider audience.  In reality, they’re missing out on a ton of albums that more deserve to be on here than the Only by the Night’s and Kid A’s of the music world.  The more I read their lists, the more disenchanted with them I become.  I love their music coverage, but the lists are just conversation pieces, not recommendations for music to hear.

Why Rolling Stone Is a Screwed-Up Magazine

For years I have read and re-read Rolling Stone magazines, primarily for their music news and reviews.  They have lured me in with “Top” lists and “Best of” lists.  Some of these have been good; some of these have been garbage.  All in all, though, they’re still a decent source for music news, and some of their music reporters (David Fricke, Rob Sheffield) have written some amazing pieces on music.

I originally went to their website today to find an article about the Black Keys in the studio when I stumbled upon the “100 Best Albums of the ‘00s” (http://www.rollingstone.com/music/lists/100-best-albums-of-the-2000s-20110718).  Intrigued, I stopped my search and took a look at this list.  What I saw baffled me.  One comment spoke most intensely to me; basically the commenter said “no Animal Collective record on here makes this list basically irrelevant”.  After looking at the list, I think the commenter is right.

I have come to the conclusion, after reading through the list (including the captions with the albums), that the whole thing is about which artists were popular during the decade and what albums they released.  Basically, it’s more of a pop culture snapshot than it is a list of the best records released during the period.  I guess too much indie is a bad thing.  You have to give credit to the artists that actually sold a boat load of records (or digital tracks).  Oddly, the magazine tried to appeal to the readers that have an appreciation for all music, regardless of whether the albums were a commercial success or not.

Keeping in mind that the magazine’s editors have created a pop culture list while trying (ineffectively) to maintain one foot in the indie door, I decided I would comment on a few of the artists and albums listed here.  I’ll start with an easy one here—U2.  U2 is represented by three albums here: How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb (#68), No Line on the Horizon (#36), and All That You Can’t Leave Behind (#13).  U2 is a fantastic band; I have been a fan of theirs since I first heard “Pride (In the Name of Love)”, though I didn’t really appreciate them until Achtung Baby came out.  The three albums on this list are by far not their best records.  They’re not bad records, but these records are really only on here because of a couple of singles: “Beautiful Day” from All That You Can’t and “Vertigo” from How to Dismantle (why No Line is even on here I don’t know).  Those songs were EVERYWHERE—on Apple commercials, rom-com movies, and every other outlet they could force down your throat.  They had some great singles from those two albums, but the albums as a whole were spotty in terms of greatness.  To me, the only album that belongs on this list is How to Dismantle; that had more good spots than bad and better lyrics.

And here’s another question I have for Rolling Stone’s editors—why does every young band get compared to U2?  “Don’t call them the southern Strokes—call them the American U2” (in speaking of Kings of Leon).  “From the beginning, it was clear that Chris Martin and company had designs on U2-level stardom” (in speaking of Coldplay).  I suppose that speaks to the enduring power of U2’s music, but at some point we need to move away from those comparisons and just say “Kings of Leon used to know how to write good southern punk records but fame got in the way” or “Coldplay can’t seem to find its own sound and step out as the new benchmark for rock music”.  These U2 comparisons just reinforce the fact that there really hasn’t been much original music released in years.

Speaking of Coldplay, they, too, are represented by three records here: Viva la Vida (#85), Parachutes (#73), and A Rush of Blood to the Head (#21).  The only one of these three that should be on the list should be A Rush of Blood.  Viva la Vida is essentially a poor version of How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb sung by Chris Martin.  I know people get sentimental for “Yellow”, so maybe Parachutes could appear on the list, but maybe at the end.  A Rush of Blood, however, is a masterpiece to me.  I have no problem with its position on the list.  I played that record out for all of 2004.  That record might have been the only time I felt that Coldplay had their own sound.

As for Kings of Leon (another band represented with three records), a listener would be able to easily see a difference between their best record, Youth and Young Manhood (#80), and their famous record, Only by the Night (#53).  Youth is sex, drugs, booze and debauchery wrapped into three-minute Thin Lizzy tunes and plays extremely well from beginning to end.  Caleb Followill doesn’t sound like he’s oozing machismo here; his voice is ragged yet powerful in each track.  Night, though, sounds like an over-the-top PG-13-rated rom-com, with its ever-popular “Sex on Fire” and “Use Somebody” filling the airwaves (but the lyrics just not at the same level).  I like Kings of Leon, but they are the poster children for what happens when a band gets too much money and fame too suddenly.  Had they eased into this, I think we would be seeing the standard upon which good rock music is judged.

I will speak more to this on my next entry.  I can’t let it go.

Untitled Kurt Vile Follow-Up

So, I have taken a long break from this blog.  Usually I have a lot to talk about regarding music (mostly rock, but I’ll dabble into other stuff), but lately I have been so focused on my other blog I have neglected this one.  If I remember a long while back I said I would use this blog to review some newer records that aren’t on the other blog list, or at least other records in general.

For instance, right now I’m listening to Kurt Vile’s Childish Prodigy.  I read that Kim Gordon of Sonic Youth had this album as a guilty pleasure a few years ago.  Vile’s recent record, Smoke Ring for My Halo, has received strong critical attention, so I was curious what he was about.  Childish Prodigy is an interest record.  It’s not a bad record, but it’s not a great record.  He sounds like a screwed up Mick Jagger at times; some of his sneers are straight out of Jagger’s handbook to singing (by the way, Mick Jagger can still rock even though he’s almost reached Yoda’s age now).  Vocally he sounds like Mick Jagger, Leonard Cohen, and Tom Petty had a secret love child together.

Musically this record is quite intriguing.  It’s very raw.  His guitar work is very good here.  He’s experimental yet knows when to hone in and refine a concept.  He can be nasty one minute and sweet the next.  He mixes fuzzed out electrics with peaceful acoustics throughout the record.  I have felt awed one minute and violated the next.

Supposedly I should have listened to Ring for My Halo first, but I couldn’t get my hands on a copy.  Nevertheless, if you haven’t heard Kurt Vile’s music before but have seen him credited to a J. Mascis record or something else, check him out.  He’s an interesting artist.