“You keep lyin’ when you oughta be truthin’” — ‘These Boots Are Made For Walking’, Nancy Sinatra
There’s something you must know if you ever make a habit of reading my music columns. It’s not something I like to admit and there’s definitely an element of shame involved as an avid, knowledgeable lover of music but the truth must come out.
I don’t listen to lyrics.
I hear lyrics but I don’t really listen to them. This might seem puzzling to you but here’s a simple explanation about how this can be. I concentrate on percussion and rhythm with the intensity of a cover band drummer nerd. The singing voice becomes just another instrument to me and the words are simply modulated tunings of the voice. Even if I sing along to songs I know well, the lyrics might as well be from another language in my comprehension.
In some respects, this liberates me from all of you adept listeners who can spot bad or cheesy lyrics buried in rich, lovely music e.g. ‘Waterfalls’ by Paul McCartney or ‘Feel Like Making Love’ by Roberta Flack.
Yet this lyric oblivion is definitely a hindrance provoking perpetual embarrassment in moments when I mis-hear what the words to a song are. I’ve also accepted the grim realization that this positions me on the listener spectrum against appreciating the oft-described lyrical majesty of Nick Drake as I instead stomp my foot to Primus.
However, with this isolated perspective from all you musical lyric followers, I want to explore a problem I’ve noticed among many casual to deeply involved listeners.
Songs dealing with political issues are often scrutinized but songs dealing with bad love traits are not.
The premise is quite simple: Musicians know what being heartbroken or infatuated means but they don’t know shit about how the world works. And that’s a fine point as a standalone opinion. But somehow US society has turned that premise into something of a cultural manifesto.
Hi, I’m Chin Curtain. Thanks to Red Beard and Black Beard for the invite.
Let’s start off by breaking a law. Well, a rule, yet one defended by people in uniform.
Listening to music while on an airplane during take-off.
Bilinda Butcher: The only flight attendant you'll ever need.
You’re not allowed to do this for reasons that strain credulity. In theory, the ‘signal’ from your portable device could interfere with the pilot’s ability to receive messages from air traffic control. A friend of mine who knows some stuff about computers and radio transmitters laughed along with me on this one, adding “If you start to hear even faint, static-y messages from air traffic control on your mp3 player, then, yes, you better turn it off.”
By all means, more intelligent people than I (such as pilots) can deride me in the comments section below to explain the necessity of this rule. And to clarify, if a plane ever starts to plunge toward an imminent crash due to me listening to a mp3 player, then I’ll stand up in my aisle and responsibly deliver a ‘My bad, my bad, sorry ’bout that’ apology to the terrified crowd around me.
Now, before I get into what specific take-off album is essential for your future air travel, let’s plot through how you do this. Typically, a flight attendant will announce this ‘no portable device’ rule out loud. But only a determined few will enforce it by asking you why your headphones are still on while walking by or imply you take them off.
I handle this with two simple actions. First, in preemptive anticipation of this confrontation, I pretend to listen attentively during the amusing charade of the flight attendant’s pantomimic instructions for water landings, oxygen masks and seat belts. That way, the attendant won’t notice you obliviously head-nodding to Jay-Z while staring out the window – a recipe for interrogation.
I watched the documentary It Might Get Loud recently, which made me certain of something I’ve long suspected: Jack White is the most interesting musician around today. Now, for many years I struggled to reconcile my enjoyment of The White Stripes with my skepticism about Jack White’s attempts to strictly control their image. Actually, it wasn’t so much that I was skeptical of White as that I’m skeptical of anyone who works to affect a highly counter-culture, highly artistic image. (That’s why I don’t like hipsters, especially hipsters I see at the MoMA.)
So, as White insisted, despite all evidence to the contrary, that Meg White was his sister and not his ex-wife, and as he performed on stage with a plastic guitar from Montgomery Ward as though he were still a penniless bluesman, and as he advertised the fact that the White Stripes avoided computers and recorded all of their music on analog equipment, and as he appeared in Cold Mountain, and as the story came out that he had to have surgery on his hand after wrecking a Porsche he was driving around in with Renee Zellweger, and as he went on to marry a model, it became difficult for Black Beard, who is a member of the generation that grew up with—what would today be called—the unquestionable “realness” of rock stars like Kurt Cobain, to view White’s machinations as anything more than a shoddy attempt to forge the unforgable: authenticity.
Of all the shit on YouTube, M.I.A.’s new video is the one they pull. After you watch it, you’ll understand why. It can still be found in some areas of YouTube with an age verification option, but those may be pulled also.
“Born Free” is a very graphic video depicting Americans as an occupying force out to exterminate minorities. In this case, the gingers. The video, more short film than music video, opens with an eerie subdued air raid horn playing in the background as an American military/police team moves into an apartment building. I don’t want to give away too much but it’s pretty intense.
It’s an obvious commentary on American involvement in Iraq and Afghanistan. The video is very graphic, so be warned.
Do you think YouTube is right to pull the video? Is its depictions of Americans over the top?
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