If there's anything worse than a great album with a weak first song, it's a great album with a weak last song. I mean, you're hitting the home stretch, you're flying along on the glory of one terrific tune after another, you're just waiting for that last song to finish it off in style, and you get there, and then it's just a letdown. It's not the worst crime in the world but it's annoying. Here's my list of great albums with disappointing last songs:
"Caroline No" - Pet Sounds (The Beach Boys)
So here we are, listening to supposedly the "Greatest Album of All Time," it's better than Sgt. Pepper, etc., and we get to the end and...it's this? Yeah, I know all the rock critics say that this is the beautiful, emotional finale to Pet Sounds where Brian Wilson expresses his disillusionment with love or something along those lines, but to me it sounds like he wrote it in fifteen minutes and spend about a half an hour recording it. "God Only Knows" I understand. Even "Sloop John B." But "Caroline No"? How about "Caroline No Thanks"?
"Good Night" - The White Album (The Beatles)
Not that there was any reasonable way to close the White Album, of course. But on an album where I like almost all of the songs that other people tend to call throwaways, I would actually call this one a throwaway. Fine, so John wanted to write a song for his son (instead of actually bothering to raise him), and they had Ringo sing it passively, and they had George Martin do an over-the-top orchestral arrangement...I can see what they were going for, but in the end I can take it or leave it. I suspect most people do the latter, given that the song is stranded behind the "How much sound collage am I in the mood for today" endurance test that is "Revolution No.9." The Beatles were pretty much the undisputed masters of the last song, but not this time.
"Hippie Boy" - The Gilded Palace of Sin (Flying Burrito Brothers)
Back when I first got a copy of the Best of the Flying Burrito Brothers CD, and noticed that it included all but two of the songs from their first album, I thought, "Well why didn't they just put the other two songs on there?" When I finally heard "Hippie Boy," however, I understood why. Basically it's just Gram Parsons rambling for five minutes about a bunch of loosely-connected topical references. He starts outs saying he met a hippie boy on the street, and then he says the hippie boy showed him a box, and apparently there was a dead kid in the box who got killed at the 1968 Democratic Convention in Chicago, and you keep following the story expecting it to coalesce at some point, but instead it just ends with an improptu singalong of "Peace In The Valley." Why couldn't he just write another song?
"Oh Yoko" - Imagine (John Lennon)
Let me guess: John and Yoko had probably gotten into a nasty fight over whether they were going to take a vacation to New York or to Miami, and then the next day John decided to make up for it by recording a song he'd written about Yoko three years earlier, and then for an afternoon everything was probably OK, until they started arguing about who was going to take Yoko shopping. Granted, Imagine had no conceptual unity anyway, but it was pretty uniformly strong and relatively Yoko-free. Until the last song. And even if Wes Anderson used it in Rushmore, I still don't care.
"Turn That Heartbeat Around" - Can't Buy A Thrill (Steely Dan)
Not a bad song, per se, but definitely one of my least favorites on an otherwise very strong album. Also, you've got to take into account that they'd already written a lot of the songs they would record later, and I wish they'd used one of their other ones instead.
"Soul Survivor" - Exile On Main Street (The Rolling Stones)
Again, it's not bad, but come on: if "Shine A Light" wasn't the most obvious closing song you could possibly write, then why the hell did they write it? Of course, the last three Stones albums had all followed the formula of putting the most heartfelt, touching song at the end (to make up for all the callous, nasty sentiments of the rest of the album), and so maybe the Stones wanted to switch up their formula a bit. But...couldn't they have just waited and switched it up on the next album?
"Rock and Roll Suicide" - The Rise And Fall Of Ziggy Stardust And The Spiders From Mars (David Bowie)
When Lester Bangs gleefully called Bowie one of the worst lyricists ever, he cited the line "Time takes a cigarette/And puts it in your mouth." The over-the-top lyrics don't bother me so much as the general poopiness of the song, though. Look, he should have just ended the album with "Ziggy Stardust." Come to think of it, he should have started the album with "Ziggy Stardust" and ended the album with "Ziggy Stardust." He should have just played "Ziggy Stardust" 11 times in a row and called it a day.
"Music for Money" - Pure Pop For Now People (Nick Lowe)
The album's so schizophrenic anyway that it didn't really matter, but "Music For Money" always struck me as an anti-climactic note to go out on. The British version actually ends with "Roller Show," which was a much better choice. But the British version also features "Music For Money" as the opening track! Mp3's to the rescue!
"The Overload" - Remain In Light (Talking Heads)
Again, it isn't bad, but when the rest of the album was that good, they should have come up with something better. As someone on a recent message board said in regards to this song, "Too much Eno, not enough Heads."
"Meat Is Murder" - Meat Is Murder (The Smiths)
Just to prove that they were not an "album band," apparently the Smiths decided to take their best album and put the lamest possible piece of shit they could think of at the end. I assume that even though Morrissey was the lead singer, the four bandmembers all had a collective vote in what went on the album and what didn't. The other three should have taken a stand on this one. The problem isn't so much the song's preachiness (although that doesn't help) as it is the fact that a) it didn't fit with the vibe of the rest of the album - at all - and b) it sucks. Couldn't they at least not have named the album Meat Is Murder?
I can't think of too many recent albums with disappointing last songs, which could mean either one of two things: either the artists have been pretty good at picking last songs, or there haven't been very many great albums lately. You decide.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Monday, March 26, 2007
Random Crap: Part I
Some of this stuff is pretty old, but whatever.
Rats in the Bell-frie
Makes me nostalgic for my pre-Ayurveda days.
The World's Ugliest Awards
My favorite is the Golden Bear.
The Careers of Oscar-Nominated Kids
Some did well, some did crack.
Rolling Stone: Pete Townsend Inspires Classic Rock Debate
It's a meaningless debate anyway, but my answer is no. Mostly I just agree with the guy who's annoyed that the Police are worshipped in America while nobody's even heard of the Jam.
Pitchfork: White Stripes Reveal Icky Thump Tracklist
You've got to admit, some of these titles are pretty good.
MSN 5Top: Least Anticipated Movies
I voted for National Treasure: Book of Secrets.
Rats in the Bell-frie
Makes me nostalgic for my pre-Ayurveda days.
The World's Ugliest Awards
My favorite is the Golden Bear.
The Careers of Oscar-Nominated Kids
Some did well, some did crack.
Rolling Stone: Pete Townsend Inspires Classic Rock Debate
It's a meaningless debate anyway, but my answer is no. Mostly I just agree with the guy who's annoyed that the Police are worshipped in America while nobody's even heard of the Jam.
Pitchfork: White Stripes Reveal Icky Thump Tracklist
You've got to admit, some of these titles are pretty good.
MSN 5Top: Least Anticipated Movies
I voted for National Treasure: Book of Secrets.
Saturday, March 24, 2007
Great Albums with Weak First Songs
I was thinking about something the other day. Yoggoth has previously expressed his distaste for inconsistent albums, commenting that "Even one bad song on an otherwise decent album can really turn me off." While that actually doesn't bother me too much, I do have a similar pet peeve: great albums with weak first songs. A great album should start off great right off the bat. Sometimes a great first song can even elevate an otherwise just-pretty-good album to pretty-damn-good (ex: Bridge Over Troubled Water, Morrison Hotel, Aqualung, Hotel California, Mellow Gold, Monster). If the first song is great, sometimes it doesn't even matter if the next two songs suck, 'cause man, that first song was great! But if it's not that good, it seriously brings the album down a couple of notches in my book. I'm almost inclined to say that a great first song is the key to an album's success. While I understand the need to leave some of the album's best songs in the middle, if you don't start the thing off with a bang, I'm personally much less inclined to actually put it on and listen to it. Even though the age of the mp3 has taken care of this to some degree, I still have to say that, shallow as it may sound, sometimes first impressions are everything.
Here are some albums I can think of that feature what I would call "weak first songs." The songs themselves are not necessarily that bad, but they don't really do justice to the rest of the album - at least not in the way that they should. I've taken it upon myself to name another song from the same album that would have been a much better first song.
Cheap Thrills (Big Brother and the Holding Company)
Actual first song: "Combination of the Two"
Better first song: "Piece of My Heart"
So they start out the album with a meandering live jam that barely features Janis on vocals, and then they throw the big hit single at the end of Side One? Just put it at the front! (although the live spoken intro of "Four gentlemen and one great, great broad" is still pretty good.)
Let It Be (The Beatles)
Actual first song: "Two of Us"
Better first song: "Get Back"
Well everybody knows that this album was fucked up in all sorts of ways. Of course, even though I'm no big fan of Let It Be...Naked, at least they put "Get Back" at the front where it should have been in the first place. Hell, they could have even put "Let It Be" at the front and it would have been better. "Two of Us" has always felt a little forced to me, as if Paul was trying too hard to write a song that he and John could sing together even though John wanted to punch him in the face. (I've also never been that big on "Back in the U.S.S.R." as the first song on the White Album, but it's still pretty good. For the most part the Beatles could do no wrong in this category.)
After The Gold Rush (Neil Young)
Actual first song: "Tell Me Why"
Better first song: "Southern Man"
"Don't Let It Bring You Down" also would have been better. Neil's usually pretty good at picking a good album opener, but this time he bunted.
There's A Riot Goin' On (Sly & The Family Stone)
Actual first song: "Luv n' Haight"
Better first song: "Just Like a Baby"
I've always felt this album was inconsistent, but the good songs are so good that to me it's still a terrific album. I just wished they'd put one of the good songs first.
The Rise And Fall Of Ziggy Stardust & The Spiders From Mars (David Bowie)
Actual first song: "Five Years"
Better first song: "Ziggy Stardust"
Oh Bowie, just admit that the album has no real concept and put the Ziggy song at the start. "Five Years" isn't bad but it's too slow for the first song.
Crime Of The Century (Supertramp)
Actual first song: "School"
Better first song: "Bloody Well Right"
Supertramp had no idea how to start an album. They thought they had to be all prog rock and take their time on the first song, but their strength wasn't really as a prog rock band anyway so they should have just put the catchy single at the start and said to hell with it.
Radio City (Big Star)
Actual first song: "O My Soul"
Better first song: "Life is White"
So to start it off they put on a rambling pseudo-funky jam that's mixed in mono? Try it again guys.
Another Green World (Brian Eno)
Actual first song: "Sky Saw"
Better first song: "St. Elmo's Fire"
On an album that for the most part used electronic instruments in a way that still sounds fresh today, "Sky Saw" and "Over Fire Island" always struck me as sounding kind of dated and lazily recorded. I always skip right to "St. Elmo's Fire" when I listen to the album.
Songs In The Key Of Life (Stevie Wonder)
Actual first song: "Love's In Need of Love Today"
Better first song: "Sir Duke"? "I Wish"?
Truth be told, he should have taken off the first four songs and just started with the big hit singles.
The Clash [American Version] (The Clash)
Actual first song: "Clash City Rockers"
Better first song: "Janie Jones"
The British version actually starts with "Janie Jones," and thank God for that, because "Clash City Rockers" is a weird, weird song. In fact, the guy who produced it, after he sped up the mix without telling the band and got fired for it, later said "Fuck it, I didn't even like the song that much anyway." With so many great songs to put at the start, why that one?
Q: Are We Not Men? A: We Are Devo (Devo)
Actual first song: "Uncontrollable Urge"
Better first song: "Jocko Homo"
"Uncontrollable Urge" isn't bad, but "Jocko Homo" is the perfect encapsulation of Devo's sound and image. The non-album single "Be Stiff" also would have made a better opening.
Breakfast In America (Supertramp)
Actual first song: "Gone Hollywood"
Better first song: "The Logical Song"
See Crime of the Century.
The Queen Is Dead (The Smiths)
Actual first song: "The Queen Is Dead"
Better first song: "Bigmouth Strikes Again"
I used to agree with the critical consensus that The Queen Is Dead was the Smith's best album...back when I only owned one Smiths album, and its name was The Queen Is Dead. After hearing them all, however, I don't think this one's as strong as people say it is. Morrissey's lyrics were probably his best ever, but Johnny Marr didn't really match him in the music department. I've discovered that my favorite Smiths are the "rocking" Smiths, and on The Queen Is Dead there are too many ballads with synths in the background. The title song isn't a ballad, but it's kind of stodgy and cluttered when compared to their best uptempo stuff from the period like "Panic" or "Shakespeare's Sister."
Achtung Baby (U2)
Actual first song: "Zoo Station"
Better first song: "Mysterious Ways"
Hel-lo! "Mysterious Ways" is practically crying out "Put me first! Put me first!" "Zoo Station" has no hook, no catchy chorus, no anything. It's like if Nirvana put "Smells Like Teen Spirit" in the middle of the album and picked "Polly" as the opener. The luck of the Irish my ass.
Sublime (Sublime)
Actual first song: "Garden Grove"
Better first song: "What I Got"
As with Supertramp, Sublime couldn't pick a good first song to save their lives. Same with 40 oz. to Freedom. They've got a ton of terrific songs on both albums, and what do they do? They put two of the lamest songs at the front. I guess the guy probably wasn't thinking too hard about it anyway.
Here are some albums I can think of that feature what I would call "weak first songs." The songs themselves are not necessarily that bad, but they don't really do justice to the rest of the album - at least not in the way that they should. I've taken it upon myself to name another song from the same album that would have been a much better first song.
Cheap Thrills (Big Brother and the Holding Company)
Actual first song: "Combination of the Two"
Better first song: "Piece of My Heart"
So they start out the album with a meandering live jam that barely features Janis on vocals, and then they throw the big hit single at the end of Side One? Just put it at the front! (although the live spoken intro of "Four gentlemen and one great, great broad" is still pretty good.)
Let It Be (The Beatles)
Actual first song: "Two of Us"
Better first song: "Get Back"
Well everybody knows that this album was fucked up in all sorts of ways. Of course, even though I'm no big fan of Let It Be...Naked, at least they put "Get Back" at the front where it should have been in the first place. Hell, they could have even put "Let It Be" at the front and it would have been better. "Two of Us" has always felt a little forced to me, as if Paul was trying too hard to write a song that he and John could sing together even though John wanted to punch him in the face. (I've also never been that big on "Back in the U.S.S.R." as the first song on the White Album, but it's still pretty good. For the most part the Beatles could do no wrong in this category.)
After The Gold Rush (Neil Young)
Actual first song: "Tell Me Why"
Better first song: "Southern Man"
"Don't Let It Bring You Down" also would have been better. Neil's usually pretty good at picking a good album opener, but this time he bunted.
There's A Riot Goin' On (Sly & The Family Stone)
Actual first song: "Luv n' Haight"
Better first song: "Just Like a Baby"
I've always felt this album was inconsistent, but the good songs are so good that to me it's still a terrific album. I just wished they'd put one of the good songs first.
The Rise And Fall Of Ziggy Stardust & The Spiders From Mars (David Bowie)
Actual first song: "Five Years"
Better first song: "Ziggy Stardust"
Oh Bowie, just admit that the album has no real concept and put the Ziggy song at the start. "Five Years" isn't bad but it's too slow for the first song.
Crime Of The Century (Supertramp)
Actual first song: "School"
Better first song: "Bloody Well Right"
Supertramp had no idea how to start an album. They thought they had to be all prog rock and take their time on the first song, but their strength wasn't really as a prog rock band anyway so they should have just put the catchy single at the start and said to hell with it.
Radio City (Big Star)
Actual first song: "O My Soul"
Better first song: "Life is White"
So to start it off they put on a rambling pseudo-funky jam that's mixed in mono? Try it again guys.
Another Green World (Brian Eno)
Actual first song: "Sky Saw"
Better first song: "St. Elmo's Fire"
On an album that for the most part used electronic instruments in a way that still sounds fresh today, "Sky Saw" and "Over Fire Island" always struck me as sounding kind of dated and lazily recorded. I always skip right to "St. Elmo's Fire" when I listen to the album.
Songs In The Key Of Life (Stevie Wonder)
Actual first song: "Love's In Need of Love Today"
Better first song: "Sir Duke"? "I Wish"?
Truth be told, he should have taken off the first four songs and just started with the big hit singles.
The Clash [American Version] (The Clash)
Actual first song: "Clash City Rockers"
Better first song: "Janie Jones"
The British version actually starts with "Janie Jones," and thank God for that, because "Clash City Rockers" is a weird, weird song. In fact, the guy who produced it, after he sped up the mix without telling the band and got fired for it, later said "Fuck it, I didn't even like the song that much anyway." With so many great songs to put at the start, why that one?
Q: Are We Not Men? A: We Are Devo (Devo)
Actual first song: "Uncontrollable Urge"
Better first song: "Jocko Homo"
"Uncontrollable Urge" isn't bad, but "Jocko Homo" is the perfect encapsulation of Devo's sound and image. The non-album single "Be Stiff" also would have made a better opening.
Breakfast In America (Supertramp)
Actual first song: "Gone Hollywood"
Better first song: "The Logical Song"
See Crime of the Century.
The Queen Is Dead (The Smiths)
Actual first song: "The Queen Is Dead"
Better first song: "Bigmouth Strikes Again"
I used to agree with the critical consensus that The Queen Is Dead was the Smith's best album...back when I only owned one Smiths album, and its name was The Queen Is Dead. After hearing them all, however, I don't think this one's as strong as people say it is. Morrissey's lyrics were probably his best ever, but Johnny Marr didn't really match him in the music department. I've discovered that my favorite Smiths are the "rocking" Smiths, and on The Queen Is Dead there are too many ballads with synths in the background. The title song isn't a ballad, but it's kind of stodgy and cluttered when compared to their best uptempo stuff from the period like "Panic" or "Shakespeare's Sister."
Achtung Baby (U2)
Actual first song: "Zoo Station"
Better first song: "Mysterious Ways"
Hel-lo! "Mysterious Ways" is practically crying out "Put me first! Put me first!" "Zoo Station" has no hook, no catchy chorus, no anything. It's like if Nirvana put "Smells Like Teen Spirit" in the middle of the album and picked "Polly" as the opener. The luck of the Irish my ass.
Sublime (Sublime)
Actual first song: "Garden Grove"
Better first song: "What I Got"
As with Supertramp, Sublime couldn't pick a good first song to save their lives. Same with 40 oz. to Freedom. They've got a ton of terrific songs on both albums, and what do they do? They put two of the lamest songs at the front. I guess the guy probably wasn't thinking too hard about it anyway.
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Does This Sound Like A Good Movie To You?
Film Has Two Versions; Only One Is Julie Taymor's - by Sharon Waxman
OK, first of all, one the one hand you've got the director of the Shakespeare adaptation Titus and the biopic Frida, and on the other hand you've got the director of Christmas With the Kranks and Revenge of the Nerds II: Nerds in Paradise. Who are you going to believe? But, secondly, "a $45-million psychedelic love story set to the music of the Beatles . . . stars Evan Rachel Wood as Lucy, an American teenager, and Jim Sturgess as Jude, a British import, who fall in love during the turbulent 1960s . . . combining live action with painted and three-dimensional animation and puppets, and featuring cameos by Eddie Izzard, dressed as a freakish Mr. Kite; Bono, singing 'I Am the Walrus'; and Joe Cocker, singing 'Come Together' "??? Haven't they ever heard of that Bee Gees movie from the 70s?
OK, first of all, one the one hand you've got the director of the Shakespeare adaptation Titus and the biopic Frida, and on the other hand you've got the director of Christmas With the Kranks and Revenge of the Nerds II: Nerds in Paradise. Who are you going to believe? But, secondly, "a $45-million psychedelic love story set to the music of the Beatles . . . stars Evan Rachel Wood as Lucy, an American teenager, and Jim Sturgess as Jude, a British import, who fall in love during the turbulent 1960s . . . combining live action with painted and three-dimensional animation and puppets, and featuring cameos by Eddie Izzard, dressed as a freakish Mr. Kite; Bono, singing 'I Am the Walrus'; and Joe Cocker, singing 'Come Together' "??? Haven't they ever heard of that Bee Gees movie from the 70s?
Monday, March 19, 2007
Boy Am I Glad I Only Speak English!
From the Internet Movie Database:
"Efforts by overseas film distributors to cut costs by outsourcing subtitle translations to such countries as India and Malaysia have resulted in creating dialog that makes little sense to local audiences, according to today's (Monday) London Times. The newspaper observed that translators with little understanding of the nuances of English are taking the place of British subtitlers, many with long careers in the business. Kenn Nakata Steffenson, who translates English films into Danish and Japanese films into English, cited one film in which the line "Jim is a Vietnam vet" became "Jim is veterinarian from Vietnam" in the farmed-out Danish subtitles. In another film, the words "flying into an asteroid field" became "flying into a steroid field." In yet another, "She died in a freak rugby accident" became "She died in a rugby match for people with deformities." In My Super Ex-Girlfriend, Uma Thurman's line, "We have a zero-tolerance policy for sexual harassment" was translated into Taiwanese as "We hold the highest standards for sexual harassment." The Times said that Mexican director Guillermo Del Toro was so upset with the English subtitles for his 2001 film The Devil's Backbone that he himself worked on the subtitles for last year's award-winning Pan's Labyrinth."
"Efforts by overseas film distributors to cut costs by outsourcing subtitle translations to such countries as India and Malaysia have resulted in creating dialog that makes little sense to local audiences, according to today's (Monday) London Times. The newspaper observed that translators with little understanding of the nuances of English are taking the place of British subtitlers, many with long careers in the business. Kenn Nakata Steffenson, who translates English films into Danish and Japanese films into English, cited one film in which the line "Jim is a Vietnam vet" became "Jim is veterinarian from Vietnam" in the farmed-out Danish subtitles. In another film, the words "flying into an asteroid field" became "flying into a steroid field." In yet another, "She died in a freak rugby accident" became "She died in a rugby match for people with deformities." In My Super Ex-Girlfriend, Uma Thurman's line, "We have a zero-tolerance policy for sexual harassment" was translated into Taiwanese as "We hold the highest standards for sexual harassment." The Times said that Mexican director Guillermo Del Toro was so upset with the English subtitles for his 2001 film The Devil's Backbone that he himself worked on the subtitles for last year's award-winning Pan's Labyrinth."
Sunday, March 18, 2007
From the XTC Forums
Here.
Reminds me of another Beatles fan I once knew...
Also of note:
Q - Who was/is your favourite Beatle and why ? Moley
A - What a tricky one Mole Flanders. Lets weigh up the choices.
John, sharp pointed wit, surreal word play, lazy musician, glasses, big mouth. Yeah I can identify with that. Paul, good melodies, ideas powerhouse, pushing the band to try new things, romantic. Yeah I can identify with that. How about George, calm, beautiful chord work, searching for the unknown, dry humour. Yeah, I can identify with that. That leaves Ringo, good sense of rhythm, likes to be funny, a face only a mother could love, the ill Beatle with a penchant for Thomas The Tank Engine. Yeah, I can identify with that.
That’s the problem, they're all appealing for different reasons. Stir into that mix the fatherly shepherding and faultless arranging of George Martin just to confuse things more. Eek, impossible Moley. File under Which Horseman of the Apocalypse? Which Marx Brother? Which Quality Street Chocolate? Ren or Stimpy? Oil or Water?
Arggh my brain, you choose for me. A.P
Reminds me of another Beatles fan I once knew...
Also of note:
Q - Beatles and XTC tour together? Pellepennan
A - Only if I could bugger Yoko using Heather's stump. That's the contract breaker. A.P
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Have I Found...The "Ultimate List"?
It's not quite what we've proposed, but it's close: The Acclaimed Music website. I've snooped around here before to take a look at their Greatest Albums list, but I never realized they had a Greatest Artist list as well. It's a pretty imposing place, all in all. They not only rank albums and artists into one big universal chart for each, they also rank albums by decade and even by year. They've even tried to rank songs, but to me such an effort is only of marginal interest. Their methodology (explained under the Q&A's section) sounds pretty statistically thorough, and their database looks rather comprehensive (incorporating lists not only from England and America, but also from Ireland, Australia, Canada, Mexico, Norway, Sweden, France, Belgium, The Netherlands, Germany, Poland, Italy, Spain, Serbia, and even Turkey). Please note, however, that it only takes into account critic's lists; the artists and the general public are not represented (as we had proposed). Nevertheless, I think we might agree that the results of their list are a noticeable improvement over the Rolling Stone list. Let's take a good look:
1) Pink Floyd comes in at #21
As I had suspected, their absence from the Rolling Stone list was more of a fluke than a trend. This placement reflects my notion of Pink Floyd' stature in the rock canon: not too high up there, but certainly up there. Sure, maybe I'd rank them higher myself, but at #21, I have absolutely no complaints. Already I like this list more.
2) Other big names excluded by RS appear in fighting form here
Floyd aren't even the highest-ranked band that was excluded from the RS list: R.E.M. makes it to #12 on this one. Talking Heads come in at #26, Creedence at #35, Tom Waits at #69, and Fleetwood Mac at #83.
3) The revenge of the Brits
The Transatlantic Divide has been rectified. Witness the Smiths at #27, the Pixies at #44, Blur at #46, Joy Division at #52, Oasis at #53, and the Jam at #56. Now let's go outside the top 100 here and see how close the other ones got: T.Rex at #102, Queen at #113, the Stone Roses at #122. I wasn't far off. But alas, as predicted, Suede comes in at a distant #175. I guess their standing has faded a bit with time? Or maybe they were never too highly regarded in the first place? All I know is that I'm glad Pulp placed above Suede at #90. But why the Verve (#145) and the Manic Street Preachers (#153) as well? Finally, ABBA comes in at #203. I thought they were slightly more admired in Europe than in America, and maybe they are, but apparently not by much.
4) The Generation Gap closes
To me this list does a great job of still including the early rock and roll (and soul) stars without overstating their importance in the overall picture. Chuck Berry slides from #5 to #67, Little Richard from #8 to #89, Buddy Holly from #13 to #78, Sam Cooke from #16 to #110, Bo Diddley from #20 to #194, Jerry Lee Lewis from #24 to #165, Fats Domino from #25 to #237, The Everly Brothers from #33 to#114, Roy Orbison from #37 to#132, Jackie Wilson from #68 to #312, Carl Perkins from #69 to #454, and The Shirelles from #76 to #398. Poor old Ricky Nelson slips from #91 to #799. My point wasn't that that these artists shouldn't be included, but rather that they shouldn't push more complex and multifaceted acts like Pink Floyd, R.E.M. and Talking Heads off the list. The early rock and roll stars were great, straightforward performers, but in the end I'm simply more impressed by acts (in the mold of the Beatles) who treated their own careers like they were works of art in themselves. This list seems to share my sentiments.
5) Beer Rock lingers
The Allman Brothers slide from #52 to #183, Aerosmith slips from #57 to #111, and Lynyrd Skynyrd drops from #95 to #156, but The Eagles only fall from #75 to #92, AC/DC somehow hovers from #72 to #75, and Guns n' Roses actually rises from #92 to #83. In other words, the jury's still out.
6) Rap hangs around
Some fall: Run-DMC from #48 to #94, Dr. Dre from #54 to #152, N.W.A. from #83 to #189, and Tupac from #86 to #384. Some rise: Public Enemy from #44 to #29, the Beastie Boys from #77 to #34, and (to our chagrin?) Eminem from #82 to #71. We also get two new rap entries in the top 100: OutKast at #54 and Missy Elliott at #87. Keep going and there's plenty more: Kanye West at #125, Grandmaster Flash at #131, Jay-Z at #135, De La Soul at #142, A Tribe Called Quest at #169, L.L. Cool J. at #177, Eric B. and Rakim at #178, and the Notorious B.I.G. at #198. We'll let everybody's entourage fight this one out.
7) Artists not on the RS list (besides the names already mentioned):
A lot more recent alternative/indie rock acts seem to have made it into the top 100 here. There's Beck at #38, Sonic Youth at #50, New Order at #56, PJ Harvey at #63, Bjork at #64, Massive Attack at #65, The White Stripes at #70, The Cure at #73, Nick Cave at #84, Primal Scream at #85, and - lo and behold - who's this at #86? Why it's Pavement! Congratulations Yoggoth. In terms of the classic rock era, the list leans more toward underground/cult acts in general: Lou Reed (as a solo artist) at #49, Kraftwerk at #59, Brian Eno at #77, Captain Beefheart at #79, Frank Zappa at #80, Leonard Cohen at #96, and Nick Drake at #98. Then there are those mainstream artists who probably just didn't happen to make the Rolling Stone list: Steely Dan at #61, Frank Sinatra at #72, Paul Simon at #92, Blondie at #95, and the Pet Shop Boys at #100 (I suspect the Transatlantic Divide came into play on that one). Oh, and there's John Coltrane at #62 (but who the hell is he anyway?).
Leaving the RS list behind, here are some general observations on this list alone:
1) This thing is freaking long! Look at the bottom 200: Flipper? Planxty? Pentangle? If your favorite act didn't make it somewhere onto this list, then you might as well shove a hot poker up your ass.
2) Prince at #7? Radiohead at #18? Oh, but I could go on all day. Better to let you guys have a say.
1) Pink Floyd comes in at #21
As I had suspected, their absence from the Rolling Stone list was more of a fluke than a trend. This placement reflects my notion of Pink Floyd' stature in the rock canon: not too high up there, but certainly up there. Sure, maybe I'd rank them higher myself, but at #21, I have absolutely no complaints. Already I like this list more.
2) Other big names excluded by RS appear in fighting form here
Floyd aren't even the highest-ranked band that was excluded from the RS list: R.E.M. makes it to #12 on this one. Talking Heads come in at #26, Creedence at #35, Tom Waits at #69, and Fleetwood Mac at #83.
3) The revenge of the Brits
The Transatlantic Divide has been rectified. Witness the Smiths at #27, the Pixies at #44, Blur at #46, Joy Division at #52, Oasis at #53, and the Jam at #56. Now let's go outside the top 100 here and see how close the other ones got: T.Rex at #102, Queen at #113, the Stone Roses at #122. I wasn't far off. But alas, as predicted, Suede comes in at a distant #175. I guess their standing has faded a bit with time? Or maybe they were never too highly regarded in the first place? All I know is that I'm glad Pulp placed above Suede at #90. But why the Verve (#145) and the Manic Street Preachers (#153) as well? Finally, ABBA comes in at #203. I thought they were slightly more admired in Europe than in America, and maybe they are, but apparently not by much.
4) The Generation Gap closes
To me this list does a great job of still including the early rock and roll (and soul) stars without overstating their importance in the overall picture. Chuck Berry slides from #5 to #67, Little Richard from #8 to #89, Buddy Holly from #13 to #78, Sam Cooke from #16 to #110, Bo Diddley from #20 to #194, Jerry Lee Lewis from #24 to #165, Fats Domino from #25 to #237, The Everly Brothers from #33 to#114, Roy Orbison from #37 to#132, Jackie Wilson from #68 to #312, Carl Perkins from #69 to #454, and The Shirelles from #76 to #398. Poor old Ricky Nelson slips from #91 to #799. My point wasn't that that these artists shouldn't be included, but rather that they shouldn't push more complex and multifaceted acts like Pink Floyd, R.E.M. and Talking Heads off the list. The early rock and roll stars were great, straightforward performers, but in the end I'm simply more impressed by acts (in the mold of the Beatles) who treated their own careers like they were works of art in themselves. This list seems to share my sentiments.
5) Beer Rock lingers
The Allman Brothers slide from #52 to #183, Aerosmith slips from #57 to #111, and Lynyrd Skynyrd drops from #95 to #156, but The Eagles only fall from #75 to #92, AC/DC somehow hovers from #72 to #75, and Guns n' Roses actually rises from #92 to #83. In other words, the jury's still out.
6) Rap hangs around
Some fall: Run-DMC from #48 to #94, Dr. Dre from #54 to #152, N.W.A. from #83 to #189, and Tupac from #86 to #384. Some rise: Public Enemy from #44 to #29, the Beastie Boys from #77 to #34, and (to our chagrin?) Eminem from #82 to #71. We also get two new rap entries in the top 100: OutKast at #54 and Missy Elliott at #87. Keep going and there's plenty more: Kanye West at #125, Grandmaster Flash at #131, Jay-Z at #135, De La Soul at #142, A Tribe Called Quest at #169, L.L. Cool J. at #177, Eric B. and Rakim at #178, and the Notorious B.I.G. at #198. We'll let everybody's entourage fight this one out.
7) Artists not on the RS list (besides the names already mentioned):
A lot more recent alternative/indie rock acts seem to have made it into the top 100 here. There's Beck at #38, Sonic Youth at #50, New Order at #56, PJ Harvey at #63, Bjork at #64, Massive Attack at #65, The White Stripes at #70, The Cure at #73, Nick Cave at #84, Primal Scream at #85, and - lo and behold - who's this at #86? Why it's Pavement! Congratulations Yoggoth. In terms of the classic rock era, the list leans more toward underground/cult acts in general: Lou Reed (as a solo artist) at #49, Kraftwerk at #59, Brian Eno at #77, Captain Beefheart at #79, Frank Zappa at #80, Leonard Cohen at #96, and Nick Drake at #98. Then there are those mainstream artists who probably just didn't happen to make the Rolling Stone list: Steely Dan at #61, Frank Sinatra at #72, Paul Simon at #92, Blondie at #95, and the Pet Shop Boys at #100 (I suspect the Transatlantic Divide came into play on that one). Oh, and there's John Coltrane at #62 (but who the hell is he anyway?).
Leaving the RS list behind, here are some general observations on this list alone:
1) This thing is freaking long! Look at the bottom 200: Flipper? Planxty? Pentangle? If your favorite act didn't make it somewhere onto this list, then you might as well shove a hot poker up your ass.
2) Prince at #7? Radiohead at #18? Oh, but I could go on all day. Better to let you guys have a say.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Wish They Were There
Given our recent discussion of "greatest album" lists, I thought I would call attention to another list that caught my attention a few days ago. Actually, it's been around for a while, but only now have I decided to give it greater scrutiny.
Back in 2004, Rolling Stone put together a list of "The Immortals" - their idea, one can assume, of the greatest artists of the popular music era. Back when the list first came out, I thought it was pretty respectable, and quite thorough (with most of my favorite artists making a placement), if not exactly my idea of how I would rank the greatest acts of rock and roll myself. What was interesting about the list, however, was Rolling Stone's decision not to write crappy, pretentious blurbs of their own, but to give other rock artists the chance to write something about one of their favorite acts. Suddenly, instead of being a bunch of snarky posturing from rock critics, the list was a celebration of mutual fandom between other musicians. This gave the list a much more positive, productive dimension, since not only did we want to read about the artist on the list, but we were also curious about what another artist we liked had to say about the artist they were writing about. Thus we got to hear what Elvis Costello thought of the Beatles, what Lou Reed thought of David Bowie, what Peter Buck thought of the Kinks, what Keith Richards thought of Gram Parsons, and what Paul Simon thought of the Everly Brothers, and so on and so on. Obviously this approach was only as fruitful as the artist assigned to do the writing. I'm not sure how interesting it is to hear what John Mayer has to say about Jimi Hendrix, what Flea has to say about Neil Young, what Lenny Kravitz has to say about John Lennon, what Jewel has to say about Joni Mitchell, or what Dave Matthews has to say about Radiohead. But you've gotta take the highs with the lows, I guess.
(You might want to take a good look at the list before you read the rest.)
Anyway, what brought this list under renewed scrunity was a realization I had a few days ago. It had been a while since I'd taken a look at it, and I suddenly became curious to see who they'd picked to write about Pink Floyd, and what that person might have said (given that I've been on a Yoggoth-inspired Pink Floyd kick as of late). But as I scanned the list, a chilling realization dawned on me: Pink Floyd . . . were absent! I checked and I checked again, but out of 100 artists, Pink Floyd were somehow not among them. There must have been some mistake. It was like if one of my best friends suddenly wasn't allowed to graduate high school with me; it kind of takes the fun out of the whole thing. The previously harmless list suddenly took on a sinster, evil aura. I became instantly bummed. How could they have left off Pink Floyd? Who was behind this list anyway? How could they be celebrating all these great bands and not even give at least one spot to Pink Floyd? Was my high opinion of Pink Floyd misplaced? Were they not as universally admired as I had assumed they were? Was I somehow out of touch with the rock canon? I get anguished over a lot of questionable bands I like, but I always figured that I was safe with Pink Floyd; their greatness was not in dispute. But maybe it was. God what a headache. I felt like my whole aesthetic world was crumbling. I had to get to the bottom of this.
I tried to see if there were any other obviously great bands that were missing, as if their absence would further discredit the list. Led Zeppelin? Nope, they were way up there at number 14. The Clash? Maybe Rolling Stone would have been lame enough to leave off The Clash. Nope, they were pretty well-represented at number 30. I inspected the list several times over. Nirvana made it to 27, but no love for Pink Floyd, huh? Aerosmith? The Police? AC/DC? The Eagles? Guns n' Roses? Radiohead? Radiohead wouldn't even exist without Pink Floyd. But there they were, with a loving article by Dave Matthews, while no one was assigned to write an article for Pink Floyd, because THEY WEREN'T ON THE FUCKING LIST.
But wait, there was some hope yet. Where was Creedence Clearwater Revival? Hey. That's a pretty major omission. Some would say that's a worse omission than Pink Floyd. Yeah! No CCR? This list is a joke. And where were Talking Heads? They should have made the cut easily. If Patti Smith and The Stooges made the cut, then Talking Heads should have been a shoo-in. But no Talking Heads. And how about R.E.M.? We get Nine Inch Nails but no R.E.M.? What about Tom Waits? Or Fleetwood Mac? Suddenly my brain had brought the list down a couple of pegs. It wasn't perfect. But still, it was a pretty good list. I mean, if your favorite album didn't make it onto that Rock and Roll Hall of Fame list, it didn't matter at all because that list was ridiculous. But this list was pretty credible. The absence of Pink Floyd still stung.
But what is a list, anyway? What does Rolling Stone know about the greatest acts of the rock era that I don't? Well lucky for us, they tell you who voted. Suddenly it starts to make a little more sense. First of all, a total of 54 people voted on this list. 54 people. That's it. All this list tells you is what 54 people think represents the greatest rock acts of all time. Hardly something to whine about. But now look at the people who voted. It's a pretty interesting crowd, to be sure. But you don't exactly expect Jackson Browne, Dr. John, Jon Landau, Greil Marcus, Bruce Springsteen, Stephen Stills, or Jerry Wexler to be big fans of Pink Floyd, do you? Still, I would have thought that they'd have gathered enough votes from people like The Edge, Kurt Loder, Ric Ocasek, Moby, and Pete Townsend to at least make the top 100. Hell, maybe even Don Henley and Santana would have pitched in as well. I could see it happening. But I guess it wasn't Pink Floyd's night.
Nevertheless, seeing the list of voters led me to formulate some more general observations on the list as a whole:
1) The Generation Gap/Singles Artists vs. Album Artists
The list heavily favors the first generation of early rock and roll and soul stars. Because rock and roll wasn't really an album-oriented medium yet, these artists' recording legacies essentially rest on their singles. One of my biggest criteria for judging the "greatness" of a rock act would be the depth and variety of their recording career. Thus I would not rank essentially singles-driven acts like Little Richard, Buddy Holly, Chuck Berry, Bo Diddley, Jerry Lee Lewis and Fats Domino as highly as I would 60s and 70s artists who have deeper discographies. But I can understand how the second (and in my opinion, better) generation of rock performers would hold the first generation in higher regard than they would their peers or their followers. To them, Chuck Berry and Little Richard laid the whole groundwork for what everyone else did. As such, it is hard to argue with their placement on the list; I can only say that I would not rank them as highly myself. They may have been first, but I don't think they were necessarily the best, or the most eclectic. Chuck Berry had one basic "song" and most of his other songs were just variations on his one main "song." It was a pretty good "song," but I'm not sure it's as musically rewarding as a later act that mastered several different styles. I wonder in 50 years who's music will have deeper appeal - Chuck Berry's or Jimi Hendrix's. Yet to that 60s generation, Chuck Berry could simply not be beat. John Lennon loved Chuck Berry much more than he loved the Beatles. But to me (and I bet most people) the Beatles were just something else entirely. Thus this list reflects the Baby Boomer generation's unease with rock's transition into album-oriented ambitiousness. I think it's all about perspective. It is hard to outright dislike a lot of these early acts (like Howlin' Wolf, Jackie Wilson, Carl Perkins, The Shirelles, Booker T. and the MG's, Ricky Nelson, or the various Motown groups), but even their greatest hits collections sound a little repetitive to modern ears. How high should they be ranked if their legacies rest on a few influential singles? Witness the recent induction of Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. No one seemed to deny that they were being inducted on the merits of one song alone. Yes, it was a great song, but was that enough to place them up there with bands that had album after album of great songs? I guess it just depends on who's doing the voting. Why don't they just induct The Kingsmen for "Louie Louie"? (Who knows, maybe they will.)
2) The "Beer Rock" Tendency
I guess when you've got Joe Perry, Rick Rubin, Butch Vig, Slash and ZZ Top voting for the greatest rock artists of all time, you can't expect too much love for Pink Floyd. Instead we get artists like Aerosmith, The Allman Brothers Band, AC/DC, The Eagles, Guns n' Roses, and Lynyrd Skynyrd. I like these acts well enough, but I'd drop them all for Floyd. Just listen to Al Kooper talk about Lynyrd Skynyrd: "In 1972, I was searching for a great three-chord band to produce. The radio was logjammed with progressive rock like you wouldn't believe: Yes; Pink Floyd; Emerson, Lake and Palmer; Genesis; King Crimson. As a student of rock history, I knew it wouldn't be long before basic rock returned like the cavalry, and I wanted to be leading the charge, albeit behind the scenes." Yes, Prog Rock was getting bloated, but was Southern Rock really what the moment called for? And he lumps Pink Floyd right in there with Yes and Genesis? Lunkhead.
3) Rap
I don't think rock criticism still has any idea what to do with rap. And yet here they are: Public Enemy, Run DMC, Dr. Dre, The Beastie Boys, Eminem, N.W.A., and Tupac. Some of it I like, some of it I've never listened to all that much, but that's sort of beside the point. Do any of these guys deserve to be up there with the best acts of the 60s and 70s? Just because I don't personally like them all that much, does that mean they don't belong on this list? Wouldn't somebody else look at this list and feel that these were the only guys that deserved to be there? Who gets to decide?
4) The Transatlantic Divide
Apparently in England they've got a rather different sense of rock history than we do here (I'm inclined to say that it's a better sense - with much less "Beer Rock" at least). If this list were undertaken by a British magazine (like Mojo), my guess is it would look quite a bit different. Here are some of the artists excluded by the Rolling Stone list that a British magazine would probably include: T.Rex, Queen, ABBA, The Jam, Joy Division, The Smiths, The Stone Roses, The Pixies, Suede, Blur, and Oasis. But with Art Garfunkel voting, these guys didn't stand a chance.
So in the end, what does it all mean? That Americans are dumb? That Baby Boomers lack perspective? Is there a better way to ascertain the significance of individual rock musicians on the artform as a whole? Should we care? Ultimately I think it's a lot easier (and more useful) to compile "greatest album" lists than "greatest artist" lists, because as I've already discussed, the artists themselves are like apples and oranges. Do Al Green and Roxy Music even belong on the same list together? If I like Roxy Music more than I like Al Green, does that really make Al Green any worse? Hell no; Al Green is awesome. He's not even trying to do the same thing. I can see why someone else would think Al Green is better than Roxy Music, even if I don't share that opinion myself. There's probably a bit of a race question hanging in all this somewhere, but I don't even personally feel qualified to tackle it. Maybe Pink Floyd is just more of a white guy's band?
Hell, as far as I know, they're at number 101. In the end, a list is just a list. You could never make one list that would satisfy everybody. It's not like the Periodic Table. "God, Hydrogen is just so overrated." "I can't believe oxygen is only at number 8! WTF?"
Still, I almost wish they left off some of my own personal favorites that actually made the list, like Elton John or Roxy Music, just so that Pink Floyd would be on there. I don't always expect Elton John or Roxy Music to make the cut; but my shared admiration for Pink Floyd is one of the things that I've felt has always tied me, however tenuously, to the rest of humanity. To think that such a bond is an illusion creates within me a deep sense of loneliness. BUT - it is just one list. Even so, it's not enjoyable to realize you have such a different idea of popular music than other people. Pink Floyd so strongly represent my ultimate idea of popular music that to see them excluded almost suggests a clash in values. How could Ricky Nelson speak to someone more deeply than Pink Floyd? What did Ricky Nelson have to say to the world that Pink Floyd didn't? What am I missing? It doesn't matter; I will be vindicated by history.
Come to think of it, I didn't see Pavement on the list either.
Back in 2004, Rolling Stone put together a list of "The Immortals" - their idea, one can assume, of the greatest artists of the popular music era. Back when the list first came out, I thought it was pretty respectable, and quite thorough (with most of my favorite artists making a placement), if not exactly my idea of how I would rank the greatest acts of rock and roll myself. What was interesting about the list, however, was Rolling Stone's decision not to write crappy, pretentious blurbs of their own, but to give other rock artists the chance to write something about one of their favorite acts. Suddenly, instead of being a bunch of snarky posturing from rock critics, the list was a celebration of mutual fandom between other musicians. This gave the list a much more positive, productive dimension, since not only did we want to read about the artist on the list, but we were also curious about what another artist we liked had to say about the artist they were writing about. Thus we got to hear what Elvis Costello thought of the Beatles, what Lou Reed thought of David Bowie, what Peter Buck thought of the Kinks, what Keith Richards thought of Gram Parsons, and what Paul Simon thought of the Everly Brothers, and so on and so on. Obviously this approach was only as fruitful as the artist assigned to do the writing. I'm not sure how interesting it is to hear what John Mayer has to say about Jimi Hendrix, what Flea has to say about Neil Young, what Lenny Kravitz has to say about John Lennon, what Jewel has to say about Joni Mitchell, or what Dave Matthews has to say about Radiohead. But you've gotta take the highs with the lows, I guess.
(You might want to take a good look at the list before you read the rest.)
Anyway, what brought this list under renewed scrunity was a realization I had a few days ago. It had been a while since I'd taken a look at it, and I suddenly became curious to see who they'd picked to write about Pink Floyd, and what that person might have said (given that I've been on a Yoggoth-inspired Pink Floyd kick as of late). But as I scanned the list, a chilling realization dawned on me: Pink Floyd . . . were absent! I checked and I checked again, but out of 100 artists, Pink Floyd were somehow not among them. There must have been some mistake. It was like if one of my best friends suddenly wasn't allowed to graduate high school with me; it kind of takes the fun out of the whole thing. The previously harmless list suddenly took on a sinster, evil aura. I became instantly bummed. How could they have left off Pink Floyd? Who was behind this list anyway? How could they be celebrating all these great bands and not even give at least one spot to Pink Floyd? Was my high opinion of Pink Floyd misplaced? Were they not as universally admired as I had assumed they were? Was I somehow out of touch with the rock canon? I get anguished over a lot of questionable bands I like, but I always figured that I was safe with Pink Floyd; their greatness was not in dispute. But maybe it was. God what a headache. I felt like my whole aesthetic world was crumbling. I had to get to the bottom of this.
I tried to see if there were any other obviously great bands that were missing, as if their absence would further discredit the list. Led Zeppelin? Nope, they were way up there at number 14. The Clash? Maybe Rolling Stone would have been lame enough to leave off The Clash. Nope, they were pretty well-represented at number 30. I inspected the list several times over. Nirvana made it to 27, but no love for Pink Floyd, huh? Aerosmith? The Police? AC/DC? The Eagles? Guns n' Roses? Radiohead? Radiohead wouldn't even exist without Pink Floyd. But there they were, with a loving article by Dave Matthews, while no one was assigned to write an article for Pink Floyd, because THEY WEREN'T ON THE FUCKING LIST.
But wait, there was some hope yet. Where was Creedence Clearwater Revival? Hey. That's a pretty major omission. Some would say that's a worse omission than Pink Floyd. Yeah! No CCR? This list is a joke. And where were Talking Heads? They should have made the cut easily. If Patti Smith and The Stooges made the cut, then Talking Heads should have been a shoo-in. But no Talking Heads. And how about R.E.M.? We get Nine Inch Nails but no R.E.M.? What about Tom Waits? Or Fleetwood Mac? Suddenly my brain had brought the list down a couple of pegs. It wasn't perfect. But still, it was a pretty good list. I mean, if your favorite album didn't make it onto that Rock and Roll Hall of Fame list, it didn't matter at all because that list was ridiculous. But this list was pretty credible. The absence of Pink Floyd still stung.
But what is a list, anyway? What does Rolling Stone know about the greatest acts of the rock era that I don't? Well lucky for us, they tell you who voted. Suddenly it starts to make a little more sense. First of all, a total of 54 people voted on this list. 54 people. That's it. All this list tells you is what 54 people think represents the greatest rock acts of all time. Hardly something to whine about. But now look at the people who voted. It's a pretty interesting crowd, to be sure. But you don't exactly expect Jackson Browne, Dr. John, Jon Landau, Greil Marcus, Bruce Springsteen, Stephen Stills, or Jerry Wexler to be big fans of Pink Floyd, do you? Still, I would have thought that they'd have gathered enough votes from people like The Edge, Kurt Loder, Ric Ocasek, Moby, and Pete Townsend to at least make the top 100. Hell, maybe even Don Henley and Santana would have pitched in as well. I could see it happening. But I guess it wasn't Pink Floyd's night.
Nevertheless, seeing the list of voters led me to formulate some more general observations on the list as a whole:
1) The Generation Gap/Singles Artists vs. Album Artists
The list heavily favors the first generation of early rock and roll and soul stars. Because rock and roll wasn't really an album-oriented medium yet, these artists' recording legacies essentially rest on their singles. One of my biggest criteria for judging the "greatness" of a rock act would be the depth and variety of their recording career. Thus I would not rank essentially singles-driven acts like Little Richard, Buddy Holly, Chuck Berry, Bo Diddley, Jerry Lee Lewis and Fats Domino as highly as I would 60s and 70s artists who have deeper discographies. But I can understand how the second (and in my opinion, better) generation of rock performers would hold the first generation in higher regard than they would their peers or their followers. To them, Chuck Berry and Little Richard laid the whole groundwork for what everyone else did. As such, it is hard to argue with their placement on the list; I can only say that I would not rank them as highly myself. They may have been first, but I don't think they were necessarily the best, or the most eclectic. Chuck Berry had one basic "song" and most of his other songs were just variations on his one main "song." It was a pretty good "song," but I'm not sure it's as musically rewarding as a later act that mastered several different styles. I wonder in 50 years who's music will have deeper appeal - Chuck Berry's or Jimi Hendrix's. Yet to that 60s generation, Chuck Berry could simply not be beat. John Lennon loved Chuck Berry much more than he loved the Beatles. But to me (and I bet most people) the Beatles were just something else entirely. Thus this list reflects the Baby Boomer generation's unease with rock's transition into album-oriented ambitiousness. I think it's all about perspective. It is hard to outright dislike a lot of these early acts (like Howlin' Wolf, Jackie Wilson, Carl Perkins, The Shirelles, Booker T. and the MG's, Ricky Nelson, or the various Motown groups), but even their greatest hits collections sound a little repetitive to modern ears. How high should they be ranked if their legacies rest on a few influential singles? Witness the recent induction of Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. No one seemed to deny that they were being inducted on the merits of one song alone. Yes, it was a great song, but was that enough to place them up there with bands that had album after album of great songs? I guess it just depends on who's doing the voting. Why don't they just induct The Kingsmen for "Louie Louie"? (Who knows, maybe they will.)
2) The "Beer Rock" Tendency
I guess when you've got Joe Perry, Rick Rubin, Butch Vig, Slash and ZZ Top voting for the greatest rock artists of all time, you can't expect too much love for Pink Floyd. Instead we get artists like Aerosmith, The Allman Brothers Band, AC/DC, The Eagles, Guns n' Roses, and Lynyrd Skynyrd. I like these acts well enough, but I'd drop them all for Floyd. Just listen to Al Kooper talk about Lynyrd Skynyrd: "In 1972, I was searching for a great three-chord band to produce. The radio was logjammed with progressive rock like you wouldn't believe: Yes; Pink Floyd; Emerson, Lake and Palmer; Genesis; King Crimson. As a student of rock history, I knew it wouldn't be long before basic rock returned like the cavalry, and I wanted to be leading the charge, albeit behind the scenes." Yes, Prog Rock was getting bloated, but was Southern Rock really what the moment called for? And he lumps Pink Floyd right in there with Yes and Genesis? Lunkhead.
3) Rap
I don't think rock criticism still has any idea what to do with rap. And yet here they are: Public Enemy, Run DMC, Dr. Dre, The Beastie Boys, Eminem, N.W.A., and Tupac. Some of it I like, some of it I've never listened to all that much, but that's sort of beside the point. Do any of these guys deserve to be up there with the best acts of the 60s and 70s? Just because I don't personally like them all that much, does that mean they don't belong on this list? Wouldn't somebody else look at this list and feel that these were the only guys that deserved to be there? Who gets to decide?
4) The Transatlantic Divide
Apparently in England they've got a rather different sense of rock history than we do here (I'm inclined to say that it's a better sense - with much less "Beer Rock" at least). If this list were undertaken by a British magazine (like Mojo), my guess is it would look quite a bit different. Here are some of the artists excluded by the Rolling Stone list that a British magazine would probably include: T.Rex, Queen, ABBA, The Jam, Joy Division, The Smiths, The Stone Roses, The Pixies, Suede, Blur, and Oasis. But with Art Garfunkel voting, these guys didn't stand a chance.
So in the end, what does it all mean? That Americans are dumb? That Baby Boomers lack perspective? Is there a better way to ascertain the significance of individual rock musicians on the artform as a whole? Should we care? Ultimately I think it's a lot easier (and more useful) to compile "greatest album" lists than "greatest artist" lists, because as I've already discussed, the artists themselves are like apples and oranges. Do Al Green and Roxy Music even belong on the same list together? If I like Roxy Music more than I like Al Green, does that really make Al Green any worse? Hell no; Al Green is awesome. He's not even trying to do the same thing. I can see why someone else would think Al Green is better than Roxy Music, even if I don't share that opinion myself. There's probably a bit of a race question hanging in all this somewhere, but I don't even personally feel qualified to tackle it. Maybe Pink Floyd is just more of a white guy's band?
Hell, as far as I know, they're at number 101. In the end, a list is just a list. You could never make one list that would satisfy everybody. It's not like the Periodic Table. "God, Hydrogen is just so overrated." "I can't believe oxygen is only at number 8! WTF?"
Still, I almost wish they left off some of my own personal favorites that actually made the list, like Elton John or Roxy Music, just so that Pink Floyd would be on there. I don't always expect Elton John or Roxy Music to make the cut; but my shared admiration for Pink Floyd is one of the things that I've felt has always tied me, however tenuously, to the rest of humanity. To think that such a bond is an illusion creates within me a deep sense of loneliness. BUT - it is just one list. Even so, it's not enjoyable to realize you have such a different idea of popular music than other people. Pink Floyd so strongly represent my ultimate idea of popular music that to see them excluded almost suggests a clash in values. How could Ricky Nelson speak to someone more deeply than Pink Floyd? What did Ricky Nelson have to say to the world that Pink Floyd didn't? What am I missing? It doesn't matter; I will be vindicated by history.
Come to think of it, I didn't see Pavement on the list either.
Bracketologist?
Slate has a little article about The Enlightened Bracketologist up. I prefer my theory. Bracketing things like that relies too much on initial positioning.
Saturday, March 10, 2007
Re: Towards a General Theory of Artistic Taste
I like it!
This is just the tip of the iceberg for a very rich topic, however.
With your music test I think I make it all the way to Pavement. I don't really have anything against The Fall, but I don't really "get" them either. Still, they have quite a few fans (like...Pavement!) so I don't think you're in too small of a minority there. With the movie test I think I make it all the way to the top. But I must admit that I need to see La Dolce Vita again, because 1) I barely remember anything about it, 2) I didn't really know how to watch foreign films back then, and 3) I'm much more familiar with Fellini's filmography now.
Anyway, let me give this a try:
Music:
75% - Pink Floyd
This would tell me almost nothing about a person.
50% - Tom Waits
This tells me a little more but still not that much. A few years ago this might have been 25%, but not these days.
25% - Early Roxy Music
Now we're talking. This person would have to be a little more of a rock historian.
5% - The Hardcore Elton John Fan
I've never met anyone, with the possible exception of my brother, who was as big of an Elton John fan as I am. Obviously a lot of people like Elton John's most famous songs, but how many people own at least three of his albums, let alone every single album/b-side/bootleg?
Movies:
75% - The Wizard of Oz
I think you'd have to have a genetic defect not to like this movie at least a tiny bit.
50% - The Wild Bunch
The casual moviegoer would not know this movie, but even the casual cinema buff probably would.
25% - Five Easy Pieces
Now we're stepping into something a little more offbeat and challenging, but still quite admired in certain circles.
5% - Barry Lyndon
Like you said with La Dolce Vita, I can understand why people might not like this movie, but I knew after the first five minutes it was the film for me.
You've done it! It's a fool-proof system. You should call it, "How to distance yourself from the rest of humanity in four easy steps."
This is just the tip of the iceberg for a very rich topic, however.
With your music test I think I make it all the way to Pavement. I don't really have anything against The Fall, but I don't really "get" them either. Still, they have quite a few fans (like...Pavement!) so I don't think you're in too small of a minority there. With the movie test I think I make it all the way to the top. But I must admit that I need to see La Dolce Vita again, because 1) I barely remember anything about it, 2) I didn't really know how to watch foreign films back then, and 3) I'm much more familiar with Fellini's filmography now.
Anyway, let me give this a try:
Music:
75% - Pink Floyd
This would tell me almost nothing about a person.
50% - Tom Waits
This tells me a little more but still not that much. A few years ago this might have been 25%, but not these days.
25% - Early Roxy Music
Now we're talking. This person would have to be a little more of a rock historian.
5% - The Hardcore Elton John Fan
I've never met anyone, with the possible exception of my brother, who was as big of an Elton John fan as I am. Obviously a lot of people like Elton John's most famous songs, but how many people own at least three of his albums, let alone every single album/b-side/bootleg?
Movies:
75% - The Wizard of Oz
I think you'd have to have a genetic defect not to like this movie at least a tiny bit.
50% - The Wild Bunch
The casual moviegoer would not know this movie, but even the casual cinema buff probably would.
25% - Five Easy Pieces
Now we're stepping into something a little more offbeat and challenging, but still quite admired in certain circles.
5% - Barry Lyndon
Like you said with La Dolce Vita, I can understand why people might not like this movie, but I knew after the first five minutes it was the film for me.
You've done it! It's a fool-proof system. You should call it, "How to distance yourself from the rest of humanity in four easy steps."
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