tUnE-yArDs: Real Live Flesh

Can/should music change the way I see the world? Does music or art provide enough brute force for the artist to alter the way the world operates?

I can't answer yes, but I don't want to say no.

My boyfriend says the art moment should have the ability to cause one to rethink the nature of reality.



I must be either numbing out to reality or I've seen too much art. Or the art isn't strong enough to break through the grayness of reality.

Reality has become too big and vague, too commercial, too narrow, over produced, repetitive, too predicable.

I haven't seen real life in years. I keep hearing about it through brief reports on NPR, but I need to see it face to face, on the street, on the job. I need to smell the smoke and the dead, see the waters rushing to high ground, taste the last bite of the most expensive dish of something I can't even pronounce.

But first I will have to leave my processed reality behind and risk losing for good what I know of life, like the sureness of my old car, my boyfriend's habitual silliness, my own habitual sadness and even the company of our old dog Sam with his fat, little ham butt.

Or I can just listen to tUnE-yArDs and get high off of the fantasy of leaving this over processed life. Music isn't strong enough to alter reality, but it keeps the world of the mind alive for another day.

Okay, Okay. I Don't Really Like Animal Collective

Okay. I didn't really say if I liked Animal Collective. The truth is I don't hear anything in their music that consistently grabs me. One or two songs appeal to me, but I'm not about to pledged enduing love for this band for the sake of gaining a few cool points. These are men who sound like children have shit fits over who gets to hold the mic. Where's the bass? The meat is lacking. I can only listen to a high pitched moan for so long before my ears bleed. I need complex, deep layers of sound. "My Girls" is novel at first listen, but it doesn't stick.

What makes a group a group is coming together and blending different sounds and rhythms. Producing one big glob of sound isn't doing much. I wish they'd invest more in melody and branch out from there. The melody is what allows for the addition of layers, variation, bass.

Animal Collective Noises

I tend to stumble upon music. Sometimes what I stumble upon stays with me and I want to hear more. Other times the music remains in the background and I only take notice when someone else takes up the cause of a band that would otherwise blend into the noise of life.

One cold, blurry morning, while driving to work I stumbled upon Animal Collective. I can't remember if the college radio DJ introduced the band before playing "My Girls", from the 2009 album Merriweather Post Pavilion, but after hearing it I thought there's an odd song, though normal for the independently minded WMSE. It's odd for it's 5 minutes and 40 seconds of echoing, dream like voices, laced with a light weight pop sensibility.

I didn't think about Animal Collective again until I stumbled again upon an article on Slate by Jonah Weiner claiming them as the "biggest indie act of the year." I guess a hardcore listener to music might use those words, but I'm a lazy listener. But the article did prompt me to seek out more of their music.

My Girls - Animal Collective

Animal Collective has been around for about a decade, but of course I'm late getting around to hearing their blend of spacey, mellowed out, elongated, sleepy sounds. But it turns out "My Girls" is perhaps one of Animal Collective's more radio orientated songs. One may find bits of noise seemingly thrown in on a whim for intros and bridges without thought. But I have a feeling all of the whim is really thoughtfully chosen. Such as on "Who Could Win a Rabbit," from the 2004 album Sung Tongs.

Who Could Win a Rabbit - Anima...

If you've never ventured beyond the typical pop station and or never heard anything experimental, the noise can be just noise, stuck on for no good reason, interrupting the sugary flow of pop. But sometimes the reason is no reason. Or I should say the motive for experimenting is to throw the listener off. Given that lyrics of "Who Could Win a Rabbit" make no sense I can't say one way or the other. Maybe it's all hash induced.

As a teen I found something magical or even spiritual about bands that experimented with sound. Music becomes the instrument. It becomes textual.

Music for the end of a decade

TV on the Radio, "Dreams," from the album Desperate Youth, Blood Thirsty Babes

Everyone is doing an end of the decade best of list. I'm feeling a little too lazy to do that. Plus everyone else has already done it. I'll admit Santigold would be at the top list of the best music of the decade. Her 2008 debut brought about a major change in the cultural perception many may have of black female singers. She's no Beyonce. With Beyonce you get an overloaded of sex and pop and sizzle. Beyonce comes from a long musical line of black female singers who pour on the sex appeal from Tina Tuner to Josephine Baker.

Female performers in general have been forced to play up the sex and play down the realness. Santigold doesn't come from that line. She doesn't belt out notes or have a gospel background. Her voice is childlike and ephemeral. Her blending of new wave, post-punk, electronica and hip-hop produced a fresh sound that made her the darling of music critics and all we can do now is await the next album. Among my favorites from Santigold are "Shove It," "Creator," and "Starstruck."

"She sounds like M.I.A." is one of the first things critics have said when trying to describe Santigold, but this is a mis-statement. Only "Creator" sounds somewhat like M.I.A.

M.I.A. is thoroughly Asian in her roots with lyrics like "If you fuck with me I'm gone dash my curry." I don't even know what that means but it sounds scary. Her lyrics are sharp and short. Her delivery reminds me of a smart mouth little kid. She's ultra cool. Santigold's writing is more complex, but M.I.A. is close behind. We've all heard the "Paper Planes," but check out "Bird flu" from her album Kala and you'll how different she is from Santigold with her intense blend of African/Asian beats.

TV On The Radio may have gotten the most praise of all. I'll admit I came to this band late and I haven't even really heard most of their music. What I have heard makes me wonder what will become of this world. Their vibe is darkly prophetic, yet so melodic on "Dreams." Layers of harmony, sinister 80's Synths, and the wavy falsetto of Tunde Adebimpe blending and over lapping with Kyp Malone's voice make listening addictive.

"I grew up listening to Joy Division, New Order, Echo & the Bunnymen, the Cure, the Smiths and the Swans," Malone states on the bands official web site. "Some of that qualifies as 'goth' but it didn't make me depressed to listen to that music despite what my parents assumed. It didn't add to my 'angst' as a teenager. I simply identified with something in the music."

The darkness is there but it's this generation's darkness.

Joseph Reeves: Art on the Road

Photo by Joseph Reeves



Joseph Reeves is a young emerging artist whose art springs from life on the road. The road is the setting of a novel in progress, "The Last Great american Novel" to be exact. The road is inspiration for tree sculpture, toothpick sculpture, and God only knows what else.

Often writers and artists have taken to travelling to find the thing that gives life to ideas and creativity. It may be too much of a cliche at this late hour, but yet another generation is going out on the road to find the inspiration apparently not found sitting behind a desk.

Reeves' overflow of writing and art could lead to something great one day or it could all just be lost to the road. Whatever the out come by be you gotta respect the kid for trying.

The art seen below is not from the road, but from the studio. More can be found at josepreeves.blogspot.com or
thelastgreatamericanjourney.blogspot.com






Spaghetti Sculpture

Satin Doll

I grew up near Fondulac Ave. It's a main vein of the city, cutting through the city's roughest neighborhoods on a diagonal. This area has always been working class. All the whites moved out when the city started forcing them to sell homes to blacks. In the late seventies my mom married my stepfather and bought a duplex on Locust, just down the street from Fondulac Ave.




There were store front churches and taverns on every other block. You could go to Big Mama's Fun House on Saturday night and The Temple for Jesus on Sunday. Immigrants ran the corner stores, but they never lived in the neighborhood.




On hot summer days the Satin Doll's Lounge's back patio would be open. You could see the patio area from the street. They had those old school oil drum barbecue pits smoking. Riding by on the bus I wondered what went on there. Were there half naked go go dancers with satin skin prancing around? That cool vibe faded slowly over the years, as times changed and the neighborhood slipped further into poverty.




There’s always been a hope that the area would somehow rise up. It is getting better further down the road and I think in a few years these throw backs to the seventies will be gone forever.

Words of Love

Video art of the day.