Festivus Grievances 2012

The Festivus pole stands in the corner, and new members are welcomed to the taint-tickling family. During the meal, the airing of 2012 musical grievances begins. Read on to share in an assortment of disappointments, complaints, and general gripes.

Anita Papsmear:

1. I may have mentioned this before, however, since it is still happening, it seems as though it needs to be said again. Noise does not equal music. Please hear my words and stop doing this... this means you, Animal Collective.

2. I have also had it up to the tits with the so-called music award shows. The “winners” are obviously based on sales (and not musical merit) and chosen by white, male music executives in a smoky back room somewhere, so...stop it...just stop it.

Class Warrior:

I have but one grievance (broken into four parts). This is the first year since I was fifteen years old that I did not attend a live musical event. I did not realize that I let this happen until just now. Technically I did witness a couple of bands, but I was at a beer fest—this doesn’t count because I was there for the camaraderie and the alcohol. The music was completely in the background. How could I do this to myself? Well, there are many factors.

First, I am a very busy person. My university is trying to squeeze all it can out of me before I burn out, so that when it is time to rock out, I have no energy. I hate being so busy. As I have told anyone who shows even a passing interest in my schedule, if I had a choice I would teach one or two classes, farm pumpkins and kale, do whatever else my community needs of me (like brew beer!), then tour with a band for a few weeks during the winter. Sounds like heaven to me. But fuck. Hey, everyone—for the sake of my music-loving soul—let’s have a revolution! But I digress....

Second, my discretionary income is not as high as one would think. Sometimes I have trouble believing how fucking broke I am. I’m a university professor—shouldn’t I be able to spend money and have some fun? My student loans are telling me no. My mortgage (a mortgage? My twenty-one year-old self is laughing at me from the past) says to get to work. My son Little Warrior has needs. My main goal for this summer was to see Iron Maiden. I had three big chances within an eight-hour drive. I couldn’t do it. The tickets were so expensive that it became a choice between seeing Maiden and sending the Little Warrior to preschool this fall. I hope I live to see the day when my son tells me I made the wrong choice.

Third, either I, or bands I wanted to see, fucked up. For instance, I only found out afterward that both Ghost and Blood Ceremony were playing in a Large Midwest City, which is a 2.5-hour drive from me. Needless to say, I was upset with myself for a while. Another example: Terrible Feelings, my favorite punk band currently active, played not one, but two U.S. tours. The first was on the East coast. The second was a West coast tour. Nowhere near me, of course. John Gorka played in my town a few months ago, but the ticket price was too high. If I decided not to see the almighty Iron Maiden in order to preserve my son’s future, I wasn’t about to do that for John Gorka!

Fourth, there are no good bands in Frozen City. Unless there is some underground punk or metal scene that has escaped my attention (and I know enough hip university students to believe that I would have found out about such a thing by now), I am out of luck unless I form my own band. If only I had the time....

(If, in a few years, you hear about a band named either Accidental Death and Dismemberment or Black Sabbatical, you’ll know who at least one of the band members is.)

Dave:

For a while now, I’ve been a half-assed and deservedly unsuccessful musician. At the same time, I have always been able to find the worst jobs possible. I only have two grievances this year, but they are big ones. They are based on the ridiculous shit younger people have tried to pawn off on me as “the new cool thing.”



1. Dubstep: Holy shit, when I first heard this trash I was flabbergasted. I’m a big fan of creativity and experimental concepts in music, but the catch is that somewhere in the chaotic swirls of noise there are real people…making actual…fucking…music. I don’t hate electronic music, people like Paul Van Dyk did interesting things with chord progressions on a synthesizer over some dance beats. I also am intrigued by the up-tempo rhythm structures used in drum n’ bass or jungle. When I think about dubstep, I envision all my favorite arcade noises being strung together in these terrible little “hot cross buns” style melodies, while some stoned pseudo-douche rave “DJ” (who is loaded on Molly, taking advantage of underage girls and pretending he’s an artist because he can play two fucking records at the same time—seriously, FUCK YOU!) lays down loops of the most generic drum beats of all time behind it. The kids holler something about “the bass dropping,” which to me is the sound of a PBR inspired shart (shit+fart) being modulated by our neighborhood pedophile, er, I mean date raper Dejay, by simply turning a knob back and forth on a keyboard filter.... So to bring it on home...we have some sweet Casio cardboard drum loops, combined with tortured 8-bit keyboard mashing, and then THE BASS DROPS. The kiddies scream and their ears are filled with the sound of someone experiencing the brutal poops that are being filtered through a Nintendo sound chip that has gone F’in haywire. Woohoo, yet another amazing musical innovation brought to us by drug-addled assholes, suprise...suprise....



2. Black Metal: Oooh it’s Scandinavian. Those guys are like Vikings right? They wear ghoulish face paint, leather, and spikes. Oooohhh it’s so spooky, like the haunted house at Disneyland. Beyond the gimmicky bondage, department store, Halloween aesthetic these guys are working with, they have taken all the innovation and technical progress other extreme metal musicians have made and taken a big shit on it. So I’ll begin my analysis of the shit storm that is the average black metal musical composition with the drummer. When these guys want to get intense, what do they do? They play blast beats, the cheapest gimmick in metal period. I generally don’t hear any interesting accents, cool drum fills, or timing tricks. It’s just, “wack, wack, wack, wack, wack, wack.” You could take the 4 chan. extreme masturbation endurance world champ, give him the sticks and tell him, “go to town bro!” and get the same “wack, wack, wack, wack!” The bass player is like the sound of a falling tree in the woods, if he wasn’t there would anyone notice? I admit this is a bit of an overgeneralization, but I’ve heard too much of the following crap from black metal guitarists to let it slip by. A song might start with a nice melodic intro, but when the drummer starts wackin’ away, the guitar players generally go into speed picking mode and don’t stop repeating a set of 4-6 chord riffs until the drum wackin’ ends. Again there is no rhythm, no cool lead breaks, just SUPER STRUM EEEVIIIIL...ugh. If you could take a couple vacuum cleaners tune them to the same chords and run them through distortion pedals/metal amplifiers, you could get the same effect. If you slowed it down, a lot of it would be gothic punk with no personality. This brings to me the vocalists who sound like they are having their balls torn off with pliers throughout the course of an album. Your desperate screeching doesn’t scare me dude, keep the S&M fantasies to yourself please! I can hear parents yelling at their kids, “Johnny what are you doing to the Pomeranian?!?” The son answers, “Nothing dad, I’m just listening to my new Children of Bodom record, I hate you!” There are a couple artists out there who break this mold, but at the first mention of a new black metal record I generally cringe and keep my mouth shut around friends who are fans....   



Here is some great footage of true black metal evil!


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-VBdAY8eA9w


Dismal:

1. Motherfuckin’ facial tattoos. I’m not even going deeper into this one.

2. Musicians who become pro-skateboarders because they are uber successful at being media puppets. ‘Nuff said.

3. People going to shows and standing around outside the venue while the bands play. I know concerts are part of these things called scenes, but if you’re paying 5 – 25 bucks for a local show, fucking go inside and listen to the music while the bands play—not so you can order more overpriced beer and brag to all your friends because you’re at the show.

None of these involve albums or genres, just shit musicians and fans do that give me intestinal discomfort.

Five-Inch Taint:

Well, another year has passed, and music has, yet again, reduced my death urge. On the whole, things have been fairly good. However, there are a couple of artists and genres of note that have aggravated my taint giving it an itching sensation that no amount of butt cream could soothe.

1. Pop-punk: I spent one snowy Saturday evening at a rather large venue waiting to see one of my all-time favorite bands: NOFX. Do I consider NOFX to a pop-punk band? No, not necessarily. Although, if they are, then they are certainly kings of the genre and immune from any grievance I may ever have. For that particular show, it was the two opening acts—El Way and Teenage Bottle Rockets—that made me want to off myself. Now, I had never heard these bands, as I tend to stay away from pop-punk, and I would probably be better off for having never heard them. El Way opened the show with 10 or so god-awful songs about who-fucking-cares. “Blah, blah, blah, I like to party and have sex with girls. How cool am I that I’m old enough to drink. Oh, yeah, drugs are cool. I snorted some Sudafed from my parents medicine cabinet.” Shut the fuck up. Nobody cares that you got a really cool tattoo showing your street-cred. Now, I have no idea what the fuck street cred is (as I may be one of the whitest people ever…and that’s saying a lot given my white-bred Jewish heritage). Anyhow, at one point during their set they asked the audience to pogo dance? Fuck, I can’t pogo dance anymore. With all of the little teeny boppers pogoing around I looked around the venue for the bar to drown my sorrows in shots of whiskey. But then I realized that I’m in fucking Salt Lake City and they can’t sell that at music venues. After 25 grueling minutes they finally finished what I assume was all of the songs they have ever written. Then came the top of the bottom of the barrel in pop-punk: Teenage Bottle Rockets. Their set started off with some ass-hat wearing a gorilla mask, tight jeans, and a tight sweatshirt. He stepped on the stage wielding a chainsaw that was neither turned on nor did it even have a chain. God, I wish it had a chain so at least that poor unfortunate soul could have accidentally offed himself, so he wouldn’t have to go through another night of shitty pop-punk. Now, Teenage Bottle Rockets is signed on Fat Wreck Chords, so I thought I would give them a chance. As their guitarist simulated shooting people in the audience with his guitar I stood there thinking, again, I wish that were a real gun and they would just turn it on themselves. The world would be a much better place without terrible power chords and songs about “cruising for chicks” and “partying all summer long.” There was one saving grace to their set. They sang a fairly righteous song about their bass player who likes it when his girlfriend shits on him. Maybe I connected so much with that song because it felt like pop-punk was taking a shit right on my hairy chest.

2. I am not quite sure where to direct my ire for my second grievance of the year. Before I get into the grievance I need to supply a backstory. Earlier this year, towards the end of summer, I had the great pleasure of meeting Null. He took me into his home for what had to be the greatest 3 days of my life. Immediately, and this isn’t fabrication, we fell in love with each other (there was one night where he and I talked for hours and I’m pretty sure he was seriously considering leaving his partner for me to make a happy commie life together). So deep was our love that I began to blindly trust his taste in music. Little did I know that he was such a music junkie that he would listen to anything indiscriminately. He needed a beat to pierce his veins to shoot whatever the poison of the day was. Well, one day, I heard through a friend (SoDak) that Null had just purchased the new Taylor Swift album Red. Being the ever-devoted lover that I am, I figured that he would never steer me wrong. Despite my best instincts, I donned my most disguising clothing (trying to hide my identity from the employees at the record store), altered my facial hair, took a deep breath, and entered the record store to purchase Red. As I approached the counter, the store manager recognized me. “Fuck,” I said to myself. “Have I no shame.” Embarrassed, I handed over the album for him to check out. The manager looked at me and tried to comfort me saying that we all have music that we’re ashamed of, but truly love to listen to. Feeling dirtier than a performer at one of those Donkey shows south of the border, I popped the CD into the player in my car. After the first two songs, I felt like I needed to take a shower and scrub myself clean with a brillo pad. Songs four and six may have been the equivalent to jamming one hundred hot pokers in my taint. Now, usually, a couple of hot pokers to the taint are quite enjoyable. But, this was just too much. Then I got to song eight, “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together,” and I began to question my devotion to Null. I really wanted to end things with him….It was then that Taylor Swift clicked for me. I get it now! Although, I have to admit there are quite a few good songs on the album, most of it made me want to do bad things to inanimate objects. I don’t know who to direct this grievance to. On the one hand, Null, what have you done to me? Don’t bring me in to your dark depraved world. On the other hand, goddamnit Taylor. All of your songs are about breaking up with boys who are self-indulgent and have done you wrong. After four albums of writing essentially the same song about different guys I think it’s time to turn the gaze inwards. What have you been doing to fuck everything up? For shame, Taylor.

3. All my friends listen to Indie music. That’s cool, I listen to it too. But, for some reason, everybody who doesn’t consider themselves to be in the mainstream only listens to Indie. When I eventually end up talking about new music with the new people I meet, they always pick out some obscure indie band with a fucking terrible name. “Hey, have you heard the new ‘Bear Fuckers’? Yeah, it’s just two guys who make up the whole band. One guy has a macbook pro loaded with all of the beats and the other guy sits on stage reading shitty poetry about the pack of American Spirits cigarettes that he just finished smoking.” Now, again, I’m not against Indie rock by any means. I purchase quite a bit of it. What really grinds my gears is when people consider it as the only viable alternative to mainstream pop. Let’s expand our horizons a bit. It’s not uncool to love country, folk, punk, metal, and noise, in addition to indie. I guess this one isn’t really a grievance about any music in particular. It’s probably more that I want people to like what I like. So, it’s more of a grievance against myself. Life is hard when you have a five-inch taint.

Jimmy “Explosive Diarrhea” B:

1. Pacific Northwest Potheads: I don’t have a problem with weed. But, I do have a problem with assholes who think smoking herb in a public place is okay. These shit-for-brains wouldn’t smoke a cigarette at a concert venue, but they have no problem hitting the pipe.

2. The Fucking Economy: Two of my concert going friends spent most of 2012 broke due to medical expenses and/or the lack of good jobs. They barely made rent—musical events were way out of reach. My 2012 musical journey was a lonely one.

3.  Who Am I Kidding, I Suck: Unlike my friends, I was okay financially in 2012, but my ass stayed firmly planted on the sofa. I only attended six concerts in 2012. There were a lot of opportunities, but the couch beckoned.

4. Black Sabbath: Have you heard the news? The original lineup of Black Sabbath has reunited for a tour and new album. But, there is a catch. Bill Ward is not participating. Uh, excuse me? The great Bill Ward, original drummer of the great Black Sabbath, is not participating. Who deserves the blame for this tragedy?

5. Sublime: These D-bags haven’t released a record since the mid-90s, and they still get radio play. I can’t think of three dudes with less talent. Why do people continue to be fascinated with these cheese-ball-wankers? In his play “No Exit,” Sartre points out that Hell is other people. Sartre almost had it—Hell is interacting with the half-wits who listen to shit like Sublime.

6. All the bands that continue to play at the Hawthorne Theater in Portland, Oregon. This is the worst venue on the planet, and I did not attend any shows there in 2012 (nor will I), which means I missed the Melvins. Fuck!

7. The Music Media: Huw Lloyd-Langton, the most influential guitar player nobody knows, died in 2012. Huw was one of the founding members of Hawkwind, and helped create a genre of music known as space rock. I award the music world five courics, zero skinny ties, zero smears, and three turds for not reporting this disaster.

8. It has been nearly two years since Iron and Wine’s last album, Kiss Each Other Clean, was released. I am still pissed off about this shitty effort. Samuel Beam has used up all of this mojo.

9. One of the few shows I went to see in 2012 was the Portland Cello Project (PCP). I love cellos, and I really like cellos when they play heavy metal. The night I paid good money to the PCP, they were to play nothing but Pantera covers. I hoped to witness five or six bow wielding men and women get raw and nasty. Alas it was not to be. The PCP took perfectly good metal and turned it into pop-flavored classical music. I half expected Pat Boone to walk out and perform vocals. It sucked so bad that I, along with my two friends, left after about thirty minutes. If anyone from the PCP reads this, I would like two things, first never do another metal cover, and second, I would like a full refund.

Kloghole:

My first and biggest grievance is that I was not able to write a single fucking review all year, as far as I know. I am a fucking lameass for letting folks fucking walk all over me and leave me with no fucking time to myself. Fucking lazy racist fucking bastards have made my life, and others around me, a fucking nightmare. They can all go fuck a running lawnmower.

My second grievance is for 3 Inches of Blood, Kittie, Motorhead, and another band I cannot remember that all scheduled shows on Tuesdays and Wednesdays when I was at work. Sucked big fucking wind.

I guess my third grievance is the fucking shit that passes for country these days crowds out the shit that actually has some fucking gristle to it. I feel bad for the poor fuckers who don’t know that there is some good stuff out there.

Null:

1. Rolling Stone Magazine—The Uninvited Guest that Stays Until the End: For the second year in a row I have been receiving free Rolling Stones in the mail. To this day, I have no idea why. It has simply solidified the fact that I would never subscribe to such a shitty “music” magazine. It is simply another patsy for the corporate-bloated music industry. When they put Alice Donut on the cover, I may reconsider.

2. Tim McGraw Loves Fossil Fuels: In one of the Rolling Stone magazines mentioned above, I found an ad in which Tim McGraw is standing in front of a bright red jeep holding up a container of Pennzoil. There was a large quote from him on the page: “Cars are a big part of my music, because they’re a big part of my life.” Hey Tim, Fuck You. I understand the connection between cars and music. There are few things better than driving around at night listening to killer tunes. But you know what is better? Living in a world that is not being endlessly destroyed in a battle for fossil fuels and where Palm Trees are not growing in fucking Ontario! There comes a time when even poser commercial country stars need to take a little responsibility and understand the crucial times in which they live. I would have his back a little, despite my dislike of his music, if he were standing in front of solar panels or windmills. But he isn’t, because he is a Christian, money-grubbing, douche-bag. It is not like he needs the money with all those hit singles and the new fragrance he is selling with his wife Faith Hill. Tim McGraw is everything that is wrong with America. Fossil fuels are not sexy and the stench of his “fragrance” can’t cover the smell of a rotting world or the putrid stench of his non-existent “integrity.” Motherfucker probably never worked on a farm in his life.

3. Musicians and Fragrances: Shakira, Rihanna, Katy Perry, Madonna, Faith Hill, and Tim McGraw. The list goes on and on and on. Musicians “making” and marketing fragrances simply illustrates the overt commercial aspects of these “artists.” I opened a CD this year that had a sample of a fragrance. Sure, I put it on, just to mask the rotten stench of Wall Street in my CD collection. If I were “President of the World,” I would demand a one-year prison sentence for any artist that markets a fragrance so s/he had time to think about the completely unnecessary and expensive endeavor of marketing meaningless shit to people who can’t afford it. Evidently, their music just isn’t good enough. Fuck them.

4. Ryan Adams, Live After Deaf Box Set (also on my best of 2012 list): I was very excited to find that Ryan Adams was putting out some material from his acoustic tour. Yet, things became very confusing rather quickly. Originally this was a 15-vinyl record set, one from each show of his European tour, 144 songs with a free download of another 74 songs, which is a total of 218 songs. Great, except the vinyl box set was incredibly expensive and was not going to be repressed. It sold out almost immediately. Due to high demand, and some bitching from yours truly, as well as many others, it was eventually released as a digital download but only included the original 144 songs and maybe a few more, I can’t remember.

This is what is so problematic. Sure, he put out all these vinyl records for the rich fans to buy, but the box set is loaded with repeats, meaning that he recorded the same version of many songs, done pretty much the exact same way. Is that just a huge waste of vinyl? If he wanted to capture the “feel” of the show then why didn’t he release the shows in their entirety? Instead, they are chopped up to fit on a single vinyl record per show!? OK, well I am glad he made the box set available for download, so poorer people like me could enjoy it, but it still wasn’t cheap. And, why so many repeats? It is just confusing and weird. I figured out that if he didn’t have repeats on the vinyl then he could have sold a 3 CD set that included every song in the box set. It seems like the sensible thing to do. So now all I have are some shitty digital downloads and nothing real to show for it. The music is sad and beautiful, but the concept and configuration of the whole debacle still confuses me.

I thought when Ryan had his own label, PAX-AM, he would no longer be strangled by a major label, however, 10 almost identical versions of the same song only digitally released wasn’t really what I had in mind.

5. The Continued Diminishing Quality of CDs: Every year CDs, both CD-Rs and official releases, continue to get thinner and thinner. In the eighties, the life expectancy of a CD was about 80 years. Now, god only fucking knows. Sony used to put out a high-quality CD-R that was tough and durable, now, when I hold them up to the light I can see right through them. Though I love the band OFF! and the Vice label, I realized that the first OFF! CD was so thin that my car wouldn’t even play it. When I pull out old CDs from the 80’s and early 90’s the CDs, as well as the jewel cases, are very thick. Most of my CD cases from the 80’s are not even cracked after 20 years of being dragged around in backpacks and cars all over the country. Now, if I so much as look at a recently manufactured jewel case, it just breaks in half. Oh well, the CD is probably already rotting away anyway. It used to be that all the CD-Rs manufactured in Japan where of great quality. Today, all of those manufacturing jobs are in Southeast Asia and the discs are made cheaply to insure profitability. It is like everything else under capitalism—it all turns to shit in the name of profits and quality goes out the window and waste piles up. You may remember the same thing happened with vinyl LPs—they just got thinner and thinner.

6. Green Day: I always enjoyed Green Day records for what they were—tight melodic pop punk songs with lyrics about romance and frustration. It was always energetic to listen to and really fun to play. Then they made American Idiot in 2004 and I thought they had really grown up and finally had something to say about the world outside their pot-smoke filled apartment. However, with their last round of albums (the end of year trilogy), I have found their music completely mundane and boring (it didn’t have far to travel). American Idiot was made into a musical and has thus become socially meaningless. The band rests on its laurels and has about as much relevant political/social commentary as Bono, and when Billie Joe sings about “hanging the fucking DJ,” I wonder if he talking about the millions of DJs that shoved their music down our throats. He even swears on the new album, nothing new, but it seems a desperate attempt to be “punk.” I love swearing but it is always most artistically effective when coupled with real frustration, however, on the new records it seems so contrived and meaningless I am almost embarrassed for them. They aren’t singing about nuclear annihilation or sweatshops mind you. Rather, I believe they are appealing to the mallrats who buy their records and call mom a “bitch” because they didn’t get the new iPhone for x-mas. You can see these kids in their trademarked Green Day accessories. The band is just a bunch of rich people who have become divorced from the world. Come on’ guys, you can rock the fuck out and write lyrics that are relevant to your age group—can’t you? Maybe not. Even the cover of the new records look like they are marketed to 6 year olds. I guess after American Idiot I expected more, but now they can’t even return to their innocent days of singing about girls in libraries. One of the band members probably owns the library and the girl is probably wearing Green Day socks. And if they mention the fact that they are a “punk band” again, I am going to kill someone. Who knows, maybe next summer I will be jamming the new records, but just like when Bowie became a multi-billionaire, I just can’t relate anymore.

7. United Sons of Toil Break Up: The United Sons of Toil are on my best of 2012 list. I couldn’t believe it. I just discovered them this year and after only 3 records this great radical, leftist, punk rock band from Madison, Wisconsin called it quits. Fucking bummer.

Plainzero:

(coming soon)

Scott:

#1 is only a semi-grievance: the new, and first, solo album by Mike Cooley from the Drive-By Truckers, The Fool on Every Corner. I’ve been hearing rumors of this album for a while, and thought it was long overdue. Patterson Hood has released three solo albums, and former Drive-By Truckers member Jason Isbell is a few albums into a successful solo career. Those two guys sometimes overshadow Cooley, but he’s responsible for some of Drive-By Truckers’ best songs. And his newer songs are among his best work—“Birthday Boy” on The Big To-Do and especially “Pulaski” on Go-Go Boots, a melancholy gem of a song that reminds me of Townes Van Zandt. Patterson Hood’s strength is that he’s a great storyteller, and his direct lyrics usually work because they serve the story. Cooley, at his very best, is the better lyricist, although he isn’t always at his best. When he is, though, he’s nearly as great a writer as Jason Isbell, who is pretty fucking brilliant. 

Anyway, I had high hopes for this album. But then I found out it consists of only acoustic versions of Drive-By Truckers songs, plus one new song and a cover. That’s fine, I guess—I’m sure it will be good, and I’m still going to get it, and enjoy it—but looks like we’re still waiting for Cooley to release a solo album of new material.

#2: to quote Ryan Bingham, “14 fuckin’ minutes? Fuck that shit.” I saw him play a few months ago, and that’s what he yelled when the venue informed him that he had 14 minutes to finish his encore. He had played an hour-long set, give or take, and was two songs into the encore when someone backstage gave him the cutoff. This was a bunch of bullshit, because it’s not like he had been onstage for very long—and it was only quarter after 10 pm. They wanted him off by 10:30, I believe because the venue—Webster Hall in New York, which otherwise I’ve always liked—turns into a dance club or something. This was especially aggravating because Bingham seemed like he was ready to play all night, and because the show up to that point was fucking phenomenal. I had never seen him perform before and wasn’t sure what to expect, but he surpassed all my expectations. Bingham was genuinely pissed, and so was I, so fuck the venue for that shitty move, but here’s to Ryan Bingham and his excellent band for putting on an otherwise great show.

#3 is, I suppose, also a semi-grievance because it involves Steve Earle, whom I’m likely to forgive for a lot of things. I saw him at a tribute to Woody Guthrie celebrating the centennial of Guthrie’s birth. Earle was great, but decided to give us all a lecture about how we shouldn’t be criticizing Obama (from the left) and how he’s done all this good stuff, blah, blah, blah. Fine. I get Earle’s politics and I think there’s a genuine discussion to be had about Obama and support from the left, but I think it was totally out of place at this event. If anything, we should be fighting to recognize the truly radical core of Guthrie’s work, and his commitment—unwavering throughout his life—to socialist revolution. Would Guthrie be happy to see a black man elected president? Of course. Would he have supported Obama the way he supported FDR (or at least came to support him eventually)? Perhaps, although Guthrie’s thinking was shaped by the Popular Front environment and his proximity to the Communist Party (along with historical factors like the existence of the USSR, the Second World War, etc.), so perhaps not. It doesn’t matter. The point is that I was disappointed to see this turn into a fucking Obama campaign event, especially in the middle of Greenwich Village, more solidly pro-Obama than anywhere else in the fucking country, for fuck’s sake. But at least Billy Bragg performed that night, too, and he began his set by saying something like “In the UK we love Woody Guthrie, but we don’t remember him as the guy who sang ‘This Land Is Our Land’—we remember him as the guy who wrote ‘This Machine Kills Fascists’ on his guitar!” And he launched into version of “All You Fascists” that was probably the best performance of the night.

SoDak:

1. Opening Bands that Show Up Late for the Concert: This fall I went to a show in Salt Lake City, at the Urban Lounge. A local band was the opening act. The members of this band showed up 50 minutes after the show was supposed to start and then set up their gear. To make matters worse, they took forever getting their shit together. Each time the drummer would carry one item from his kit onto the stage, he would stop to drink beer. Guess, it is tough and tiring work to set up drums. The show started almost two hours late. Due to these lazy fucks taking forever, the main act did not have as much time for their set. If the opening band cannot show up on time, the second band on the bill should just set up and play.

2. Cell Phones at Concerts: I am not even sure where to start with this issue. Rather than actually listening to the music that the band performs, folks in the crowd are checking messages and posting updates—“Dude, I am at a show.” Too bad the fuckhead is not even paying attention. It is unbelievable that so many people are at shows taking shitty pictures and/or videos. It seems that these folks are not even experiencing the show as it happens. Along with short attention spans, there appears to be a decline in folks being able to connect with emotional and/or serious songs. Over the last several years, I have noticed that when a band plays a serious song, whatever the subject matter, folks in the crowd start checking their phones (or talking to their friends). It was not that long ago, that during such songs, people would reach for their lighters, with the flame held high, as they connected with the music. Sure, this might have been cheesy, but at least people seemed capable of enjoying and feeling something important at concerts. When the lights go on at the end of shows, there seems to be a fascination with observing the pile of beer cans on the floor. To document this big accomplishment, crappy pictures are taken with their phones.

3. Marketing Inserts in CDs: There has been a proliferation of marketing inserts within CDs. No I do not want to purchase ring tones of the songs on the CD I just bought. Nor do I want to buy perfume associated with the artist. In fact, this shit creates a negative association with the musician. This past year, one of the inserts was an advertisement for tractors, I kind you not.

4. Generation Kill CD Liner Notes: I saw that Rob Dukes (current singer of Exodus) was singing in a new band, Generation Kill. The shitty album cover should have been enough to make me steer clear. In the liner notes, there was a bunch of nationalistic crap, encouraging soldiers to kill as many people overseas as possible. His celebration of murder was sickening. Fuck you, Rob Dukes.

5. Lucero Putting Out Two Shitty Records in a Row: Lucero is a band that captured my attention right from the start. I loved the Ben’s raw voice and their energetic songs. I have seen them play many shows all across the country. Most of the time, the shows were outstanding, as they seemed like they would play all night long if given the opportunity. Plenty of the songs have lots of heart, showing a nice depth in the songwriting. In 2009, Lucero decided to change things up and recorded an album (1372 Overton Park) with lots of horns. Now, I can appreciate trying something new. But, in this case, I thought it was a horrible direction. When they were on tour in support of this record, I went to the show along with several friends. We were hoping that Lucero would not have horns on tour. Maybe the songs would sound better with all of that distraction stripped away. Our hearts sunk as the horn players came onto the stage. The new songs were horrible. Plus, the horns ruined the older songs. We sat in the back of the venue, waiting for the show to end, disgusted by the performance. My friends, who loved Lucero, wrote the band off, given how horrible this experience was. I hoped that the band would redeem itself on the next record. In 2012, Women & Work was released. Much to my disappointment, Lucero continued in the same vein as the last record. The songs are obnoxious, tiring, and uninteresting—except for one or two songs. The horns are not tasteful, as they assault the listener. The song structures are horrible. Basically they once again took a big shit in the studio.

Travis:

Disappointments:

1. High on Fire, De Vermis Mysteriis (Entertainment One, 2012).

This album is such a disappointment because I think HOF’s two previous albums, Death Is This Communion and Snakes for the Divine are their two best. They almost try to become a thrash band here and I don’t like it. Not a bit.

2. Pinback, Information Retrieved (Temporary Residence Limited, 2012).

Boring.