dearly beloved,
Commentary
Prog
May 16th
Terry Bozzio's drumset. Because... why not?
The active question in progressive rock is: “Why not?”
As in, “why not switch back and forth between 7/8 and 13/8 for two minutes right here?” Or, “why not replace the last chorus with the theme from Carmina Burana?” Or, “why not ascend chromatically through all twelve keys during this extended guitar solo?” Put like that, I think, it’s not hard to understand why it’s generally considered to be the backwater of rock ‘n’ roll, the province of fuzzy-haired nerds who, were it not for the Yes concert tonight, would totally be playing D&D.
But while I’ll grant that a lot of prog writes its own punch lines, there’s nothing about it that easily explains the loathing that a lot of red-blooded rock fans feel towards it. Bring up Rush in conversation, and I’ll bet $5 at least one person near you will go, “God, I fucking HATE Rush.” It engenders a level of antipathy that’s usually reserved for overtly commercial rock bands like Nickelback or Creed; and if there’s one thing that we can all agree on in prog’s defense, it’s that it is about as far from overtly commercial as you can get.
My theory – after thinking about this for a little bit while listening to 2112 and staring at my screensaver (j/k) – is that it has a lot to do with the way that prog musicians approach and think about rock. For a lot of us, rock is a very visceral, cathartic experience. We connect strongly with it on a deep emotional level, and when Robert Plant howls “I been working from seven to eleven every night” even the trust-fund kiddies drinking PBR on their daddy’s yachts understand and empathize with his pain. Prog, at its worst, says “fuck you” to all that and approaches rock as if it’s a math problem. Writing a prog rock song becomes a rational exercise, or an excuse to show off your technical chops, rather than an expression of feeling. And I think that strikes a lot of people as disingenuous, somehow, or repulsive and off-putting, on the same basic level that “good” rock normally appeals to.
The funny thing is, I think that very subversion of conventional rock’s priorities is why prog has the insanely loyal and involved fan base it does. (For proof of that assertion, ask a random guy on the street who his favorite drummer is, and time his answer. Now ask a prog fan.) Progressive rock, as most often constituted, is an emotionally devoid form of music, both lyrically and acoustically. Whereas, again, a lot of rock songs implicitly ask you to feel something, prog makes no demands of your heart whatsoever. And for some people – I include myself in this group fairly regularly – that is incredibly appealing. All that prog songs are ever saying is: “We are good at our instruments.” And all the listener is required to do is agree or disagree.
The two big exceptions to this criticism are 1) Pop songwriters who happen to work in the progressive rock idiom, e.g. Steven Wilson (of Porcupine Tree) or Devin Townsend; and 2) Bands who use progressive rock’s natural coldness to explore emotions like alienation, disaffection, and foreboding, e.g. Opeth and Riverside. I’ve posted a bunch of songs from those four artists below, and if you feel inclined to give prog another shot – can’t blame you if you don’t – that’s where I’d start.
MP3: Porcupine Tree – My Ashes (right-click to d/l)
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MP3: Devin Townsend – Slow Me Down
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MP3: Riverside – Egoist Hedonist
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How Not To Be A Douchebag At An Opeth Concert, In 5 Steps
Apr 9th
- Do not mosh during “Harvest.”
- Do not mosh during “Harvest.”
- Do not crowd surf during “Harvest.”
- Do not mosh during “Harvest.”
- Do not mosh during “Harvest.”
Numbers 1, 2, 4, and 5 apply to the large drunk gentleman with the shaved head who, in his defense, did not mosh as much as lurch and tip his considerable body weight in the direction of unsuspecting groups of people. Number 3 applies to a surprisingly large number of douchebags, who hopefully had their shoes taken mid-surf, or their privacy violated in some way. Downloads and longer write-up after the jump.
You Done Hired the Hitmaker
Apr 5th
The list of memorable and instantly recognizable drum grooves is short but sweet. To name a few personal favorites: There’s the off-kilter swing of “Take Five,” probably the first time many of us heard an odd time signature; there’s Steve Gadd’s stuttering intro to “50 Ways to Leave Your Lover;” there’s the mastodon footsteps that open “When the Levee Breaks;” there’s the “Amen Break,” which, when played slow, powered a ton of early 80s hip-hop and, when played fast, literally started drum’n’bass.
The king of them all, though, is the Purdie Shuffle, and Bernard Purdie, the man who invented it, deserves some sort of rock canonization. More on the master, plus a couple MP3s, after the jump.
Recriminations
Mar 30th
MGMT try to do this thing where they walk the line between actually being famous rock stars and distancing themselves from being famous rock stars by writing rock songs about how empty it is to be a famous rock star. I don’t think they’re very good at it. When you’ve got one song about it – “Time to Pretend” – that’s fine. When you release your second, and it’s the title track of your sophomore album, well, you start to look a little defensive.
Back to Basics
Mar 26th
Someone much smarter than me once wrote that AC/DC is the only band rude enough to write a song about drinking after its lead singer died of alcohol poisoning. This choice pretty much sums up Back in Black (1980, Epic): an unapologetic, irreverent celebration of good times and rock ‘n’ roll. A lot of people view rock as superficial and shallow, concerned mostly with sex and drugs, and Back in Black won’t do anything to dissuade them. This is an album obsessed with the seedy, salacious, fun side of life, and therein lies its genius. The song titles alone tell a naughty tale: There’s “Have a Drink On Me,” the aforementioned paean to getting blasted, and the lewd, ludicrous innuendos of “She’s Using Her Head Again,” “Giving the Dog a Bone” and “What You Do For Money Honey.” When Brian Johnson tells you that he wants to “put his love into you,” he’s not talking about buying you Zales. But that’s the great thing about this album – it doesn’t take itself too seriously. Indeed, Johnson’s commanding, brazen delivery suggests a special pleasure taken from offending millions of concerned mothers across the English-speaking world.
Prog, Cont.
May 26th
Posted by Headphone Jack in Commentary
FUCK YEAH ROCK AND ROLL
Someone asked me to expand a little bit on the earlier post about prog: “You’re right about why I hate it, but you didn’t really explain why anyone would like it.” (Going forward, let’s assume that I’m talking about “bad” prog, i.e., really wanky shit with no artistic purpose beyond impressing the listener.)
As I mentioned in the last post, I do think that prog’s refusal to even attempt to elicit emotion is an important part of its appeal. It makes for some of the world’s best headphone-listening background music, because you can listen with half of your brain and still get everything the artist is saying. But I’ll admit that that’s not really a reason someone falls in love with a genre. It is the reason Dream Theater is one of my most-listened-to artists on long bus trips or the MTA – but it still leaves unsolved the mystery of Dream Theater’s (and Rush’s, and Queensryche’s, and Shadow Gallery’s) unwaveringly loyal fans.
Here’s my theory: It’s because all of those bands construct elaborate alternate musical realities that the listener is invited to inhabit. Both through the unerringly irrelevant subjects of their songs (numbers, galaxies, trees, etc.) and through their highly technical, superficially complicated music, prog bands create musical escapism. It’s no coincidence that the concept album is almost exclusively the domain of prog – its fans want to be told stories about other places. The reason prog is popular is basically the reason that fantasy books are popular. (It’s also no coincidence that those two fanbases overlap a lot.)
Now that still leaves the main question unanswered – why do people like escapism? – but that one’s way past me. Hopefully the fantasy book analogy makes prog’s appeal understandable, though.
Just for kicks, here’s the most comically bad-prog prog song I can think of. Enjoy! Or, more likely, don’t.
MP3: Jordan Rudess – Insectsamongus (right-click to d/l)
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