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For Walter Benjamin, the aura of a work of art is a function of two qualities: its presence and its cult value. The aura signifies all that is eliminated when “the technique of reproduction detaches the reproduced object from the domain of tradition.”Not surprisingly, given the definition of the work of art’s presence as “its unique existence at the place where it happens to be,” the aura is conceptualized in spatial terms as the “unique phenomenon of a distance, however close it may be.” Interestingly, the etymology of the word "aura" aligns it, not with the senses of sight or hearing -- the senses that the mechanical reproduction of cultural artifacts is meant to satisfy, but with the senses of touch and smell. In Greek, the word meant "breath" or "breeze," precisely the sort of sensations that frustrate our impulse to copy the world. We can do a good job of capturing the sound of a concert and can even, with enough camera coverage, make it paradoxically more visible than it would be to any individual concert-goer. But we haven't come to close to distilling the feeling of being there: the aroma of smoke, liquor and sweat; the bracing contrast between the packed interior of a venue like Plush and the outdoor patio; or even that waft of cotton that drifts through the air every time a T-shirt is plucked from a box and handed over the merch table. That's what missing in the reproduction and must be imperfectly conjured in words that were not there at the show, but come now, as memory reminds us of what we're missing. Tags: autobiography, collage, language, music, nostalgia, song, tucson
Current Location: 85704
Muse: Merry Go Round - Stephen Malkmus & The Jicks - Live - 2007-01-09 Plush, Tucson
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I'm finally going to concede to popular demand, in the form of some cheery prodding to write more regularly about music, and return to my long ago-abandoned plan to share both songs and my thoughts about them. Since my reluctance to do so previously derived mostly from the pressure I feel to compose something with care, I'll start by declaring that I will be going out of my way not to worry myself into silence. My musical tastes have been pretty consistent for a long time now. I like a wide variety of material, but tend to follow a crop rotation model when it comes to consuming it. I'll get fixated on an artist or period or genre and play what I have until a laser could play me back, then shift rather abruptly to something else. After that initial interest has lain fallow for awhile, I'll return to it in preparation for another harvest. Late last summer, for example, I couldn't get enough of the Mick Taylor-era Rolling Stones. In the spring I revisited some of my favorite Cure albums. Right now I want nothing more than to immerse myself in German pop and rock. More specifically, I've fallen back in lust with those early 1970s bands Can, Faust, and Neu!: so-called "Krautrock", in other words. I recently managed to procure a replacement for Faust's IV, which got lost when I leant it to a friend, and have been playing the import edition's bonus disc, absent from the version I used to own, over and over. My favorite song of theirs at the moment, however, hails from the Tapes record: "J'ai mal aux dents"Although recognizably "Faustian" -- the stops and starts, the extrinsic noises on the margins of the mix, the tight spiral of repetition -- it rocks in a more American way than most of their work, conjuring just enough of the blues tradition to impart a counter-Germanic warmth. For those of you who are interested in discerning the influences on your favorite indie acts, this song demonstrates how much everyone from Belle and Sebastian to Les Savy Fav owes to the anarchist collective from Wümme. Enjoy. Tags: music, song
Current Location: 85719
Muse: J'ai mal aux dents - Faust - Tapes
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I just commented on a friend's LJ about the impossibly messed-up lyrics to "Brown Sugar." It's hard to remember, at a time when the Stones have come to stand for empty spectacle, that they were once capable of pushing buttons as well as anyone. That's not why I'm writing this, though. I'm writing this because, hearing that song on shuffle play, I had to switch modes so that I could hear the whole album. I'm writing this because the first three songs of Sticky Fingers are about as strong an introduction to an album as I can think of. "Sway" never got much radio airplay, but it's one of my favorite Stones songs and deserving of a listen -- I'm providing it here for your convenience -- with fresh ears. And "Wild Horses" -- is truly sublime. That scene in Gimme Shelter where the band is listening to the song play back in the famous Muscle Shoals studio during their North American tour is easily one of my top-five music videos, even though it was never intended to serve that function. The tip of Keith Richards cowboy boot rocking back and forth, the expression of Mick Jagger's face as he is forced to acknowledge the nakedness of his own performance, Charlie Watts looking into the distance of the Maysles Brothers' camera: it's rock and roll at its finest. Now I'm on "Can't You Hear Me Knocking" and there's not a bit of letdown. The Doors-like interlude in the middle is superb. If only I had the original Andy Warhol LP cover with the actual zipper. . . Tags: music, song
Current Location: 85721
Mode: geschnüpft
Muse: Wild Horses - The Rolling Stones - Sticky Fingers
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Well, I've listened to the new Sonic Youth album over fifty times in the past week and it more than holds up to the scrutiny. I'm a huge fan to begin with, so feel free to savor the salsa on that chip of judgment. I'm confident, though, that anyone who likes the band already will be more than satisfied. By shortening the length of their songs, they were able to include a higher percentage of peaks and valleys without losing the density of the space in between. The other quality that sets Rather Ripped apart is that it sometimes sounds like a particular musical period, but in an abstract, self-reflexive way. It's sort of like what Frederic Jameson describes in his account of the film Body Heat's postmodernism. The film isn't set in the past, but it feels that way. This effect works on Rather Ripped. Or it works for me, anyway. The best example is "The Neutral," which runs through a number of periods in rapid succession, including the simulacral 80s that Interpol and The Killers capture so well. As an added bonus -- note the double-dipping ahead -- two of the tracks, "Jams Run Free" and "Turquoise Boy" come with a Pavement chaser, fashioning a torus knot out of history. When I first heard Slanted and Enchanted on the day of its release back in 1991, my appetite whetted by Simon Reynolds and the Spin feature on promising new bands from the previous winter, I thought, "Sonic Youth + Velvet Underground," an equation that still applies to Stockton's finest, once you sift through all the other influences. Then I saw Pavement open for Sonic Youth at the Warfield, making the similarities between the two bands even more apparent. Later, Kim, John, and I talked to original Pavement drummer Gary Young as he leaned against a chain-link fence in the Tenderloin, just around the corner from the Warfield, after attending a Sonic Youth show. He had already been fired, but didn't know it yet. At any rate, it makes sense for Sonic Youth to repay the tribute Pavement provided them. But, since they had already done so on Experimental Jet Set Trash and No Star, the current reference refers to their own referencing of a band that referenced them. It makes my sun-addled head hurt to contemplate. Sure sounds sweet, though. Have a listen to "Jams Run Free" if you want to hear what I mean. Tags: autobiography, music, song
Current Location: 85721
Mode: pacific, if atlantic
Muse: Turquoise Boy - Sonic Youth - Rather Ripped
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I'm listening to The Notwist's album Neon Golden as I work this evening. Because it has been in my iTunes library since I bought it, I hear songs from it on a pretty regular basis in shuffle mode. But it has been a long time since I listened to the record in its entirety. It's nice to remember how much I adore it and even nicer to be reminded that it's my ideal writing muse. I had the new Sonic Youth album Rather Ripped on auto-repeat for most of the morning and that one, like the band's other albums, is also great to work by. The Notwist is even better, however. Because their music is consistently interesting without ever getting too brash, it makes staying in a productive flow easy. In that regard, they are a lot like Stereolab, another favorite of mine in the music-to-write-by category. I spent a sizeable portion of my dissertation-completing with The Notwist's earlier Shrink playing for hours at a time, while the then-one-year-old Bean played next to me. Ever since, I've felt a debt of gratitude to the band. I haven't listened to Neon Golden with the same intensity before but, as I sit here tonight, I'm feeling that debt grow. I love some of these songs so much that hearing them in sequence is bringing tears to my eyes. It's hard to choose, but I've picked two to share, one that exemplifies the band's softer side and one that shows the use they make of a hip-hop sensibility. I hope that you like them and, if you do, that you will buy the album or go see them in concert, since artists deserve to make money off their work. Tags: autobiography, everyday, music, nostalgia, song
Current Location: 85704
Mode: vectoring
Muse: One with the Freaks - The Notwist - Neon Golden
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Now that I'm back from my trip and working even harder than before, I'm not going to get to do many fun things aside from the everyday domestic sort. But I can justify seeing shows that pertain to my work. That means that I'll be at The Fall show at Club Congress on Saturday -- a day that happens to be Willie Mays, Sigmund Freud, and Orson Welles's birthday, incidentally -- and at the Art Brut show tonight at Plush. I imagine that many of my readers have some passing familiarity with The Fall, one of the only acts born of punk's first generation that has managed to remain vital without ever becoming -- or perhaps because they never became -- truly successful in a record-store sense. Together with The Ex, which I wrote about last year for Tikkun and The Mekons, they have managed to demonstrate the virtues of slogging away in spite of indifference. Their music ranges widely and is suffused with an aura of I-don't-care-what-you-want experimentation that perfectly frames the bitter greens of lead Fall guy Mark E. Smith's wordplay. You should go. But you might have a better time at the Art Brut show. This is the band's first time playing in Tucson. Their album doesn't get released in the States until May 23rd. And they're supposed to put on a great live show. tropicopolitan's account of seeing them at this year's Coachella festival has further amped up my excitement. I know that Islands, the sequel to the Unicorns, is playing tonight at Congress. I'm willing to bet, though, that more bliss will be had at Plush, both because of Art Brut's performance-friendly songs -- Annie Holub's feature in this week's Tucson Weekly gives a nice sense of Art Brut's low-fi charms -- and because Plush is a way better venue for live music these days. I put Art Brut's debut album on the car stereo a few months back and Skylar took to it immediately. She particularly likes the second track, "My Little Brother," which I'm making available as an advertisement for the show. It's ridiculously simple and fun, fun, fun. You can also download tracks with the band's blessings, if you like. I should point out that the song I've provided should not be regarded as exemplary. The music is typical, but the lyrics are not. Indeed, since Art Brut songs cover everything from erectile dysfunction to David Hockney to the New Musical Express, it would be very difficult to find lyrics that are typical. Suffice it to say that Art Brut keep company with the Arctic Monkeys at the leading edge of neo-punk Brit wit. I like Art Brut better, though, both from a musical and a lyrical standpoint. So you should go to tonight's show too. See you there. Tags: music, song, tucson
Current Location: 85704
Mode: "It's making me wait"
Muse: My Little Brother - Art Brut - Bang Bang Rock & Roll
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