December and January are simply awful for new album releases. Marketing-wise, it makes sense; most of the big names push to get everything together by Thanksgiving in the hopes of a huge blitz of holiday sales. People realize the extent of their wanton holiday spending and cut back on frivolous purchases like CDs and the like. Even after the first depressing bills come in January and people realize they’re feeling quite the aftereffects, eventually they tire of junk-purchase deprivation. By releasing more albums by must-hear artists, the industry jumpstarts their sales for the new year, and all is once again right with the world.
It’s a difficult pattern when you depend on reviewing albums for fun and enjoyment. Nothing depressed me more than sitting through two months of complete doldrums. Oh, sure, I had plenty going on which took any time I would have typically used to write and write and write. Still, it’s like watching the whole NHL ordeal as a hockey fan. All you want is your silly fandom participation, but nobody will pony up the show.
But it’s February now, and even the end of January was quite promising. Soon, the world will see new releases from everyone from Tori Amos to Jennifer Lopez; Judas Priest with Rob Halford back on vocals; Nine Inch Nails has set a date (May 3) for their first new release in six years; plain and simple, things are rolling along quite nicely for the next couple of months in the lovely world of music.
At least, it had better. Depending on whom you believe, either the new Tori Amos is positively atrocious, or it’s the greatest thing ever stamped to plastic. I managed to get my hold on the new Priest album, and, well… I’m not really sure what to make of it. Truth be told, I have been much more entertained by the Genesis and Motley Crue multi-disc retrospectives. In fact, those who know me are probably tired of hearing how much I have been entertained by the Genesis set in particular. I’ll leave it at that.
I’m waiting to be wowed, musicians and artists of the professional community. Two months of pent-up hyperactivity have me salivating.
Alice In Musicland
This section is for music news and my dissemination of such, correct? What do you do when absolutely nothing is going on? Oh, sure. Someone found pot on Suge Knight. No way, I don’t believe it for a minute. Come on, there must be more gossip than that. Fantasia Barrino dedicated a song to young mothers? Oh my goodness, how newsworthy. Paul McCartney denies stories that his young wife controls him. I’m so very, very glad that made the news wire. I was worried about that antenna sticking out of the back of his neck.
Seriously. What the hell is this crap? Isn’t there something somewhere that says if there’s no news, one simply should report nothing at all? So much of this is fabricated fluff-story garbage that nobody goes out of their way to read. Honestly, if this is all that is going on in the world of music, I’ll pick up a Ladies Home Journal. At least then I’ll get some helpful hints about planting flowers or something, rather than a one-way ticket to brain-meltingly ridiculous slop.
It amazes me that millions of Americans subscribe to tabloids, from the junky to the People variety, which never have anything useful or important to say. Then again, this comes from a person who has the A List on her Favorites list; of course, when I go to the A List site, I’m looking for worthless word of mouth. When I go to a reputable news site or read the wire, I would like there to be some sort of division between actual news and garbage filler. I do not want to hunt for news only to find that, omigod, Nelly and Ashanti are a couple! Why was this not on the front page of my local paper? Funny, I read IP’s music news, and most of that actually seems pretty newsworthy.
I didn’t even mean to write this whole tirade as a big pat on the back for the site. Funny how things turn out. Word up, fellow comrades in rock.
Band vs. Band
I wrote this nearly five years ago, but it bears repeating. Ladies and gentlemen, Debbie Gibson vs. Tiffany.
1987 kicked some serious ass for us ten year old girls. There was more happy cheesepop than we could handle, given the choice between the cute blonde Debbie Gibson and the sassy redhead Tiffany. Debbie Gibson had more hits and more original tunes, but Tiffany was a way better dancer with much cooler hair. SO HARD TO CHOOSE! Luckily, we didn’t HAVE to choose one or the other, we just listened to them both until we fell over dead. But who was, and is, better?
Debbie Gibson certainly has a major leg up on the competition, given that she played the piano and wrote her own songs. However, some of those songs certainly showed that they were written by a 17 year old girl. I remember the first time I heard “Shake Your Love.” I thought it was pretty dumb. Mind you, I was ten, I listened to Barbie and the Rockers, but I still thought that song was pretty dumb. However, the more I heard it, the more I liked its catchy beat and very colorful video. I was getting Debbie Gibson Fever.
Debbie had 4 big hits from her first album: “Shake Your Love,” “Only In My Dreams,” “Out Of The Blue,” and “Foolish Beat.” I never owned the actual album, but I had taped it from my friends; quite honestly, most of the other songs on her album sucked. I was, and still am, a huge fan of “Foolish Beat.” The rest… well, whatever.
Debbie’s second album, the downright scary “Electric Youth,” was completely inferior in comparison. “Lost In Your Eyes” was decent enough I suppose, but the title track was kinda lame (and the video was even worse). And if you owned the tape, you know the sheer horror that are “Who Loves Ya Baby” and “No More Rhyme,” quite possibly two of the most godawful pieces of crap to grace music history.
Yeah, Debbie had a few more albums after that, too. The next was “Anything Is Possible,” which seriously caused bleeding in my ear canal. Then she started making “mature” music, starring on Broadway in Les Mis, and her life became pretty interesting. Still, her music just never improved. She should have just faded away.
Speaking of Debbie, not of her songwriting per se: her voice is annoying. She has these twitches and tweaks and such a WHINE that gets completely grating. It bothered me then and it bothers me still, considering her voice has not changed one iota since she was 17. Debbie, or shall I say Deborah, of the ’90s and beyond was just not a pretty thing.
Thankfully, Debbie was not the only one to bear the brunt of all the girl-pop bashing. Just like Christina Aguilera to Britney Spears, we have Tiffany, the “other” teen pop sensation. She didn’t write a damned note on her debut album, but given what we saw on Debbie’s debut for songwriting, nobody should be crying over it. Why, Tiffany even became the youngest female to have a number one album (at age 14, mind you), and she didn’t have to do anything but sing and dance. Debbie should have sat back and taken it easy.
Tiffany’s big debut album hits included “I Think We’re Alone Now,” “I Saw Him Standing There,” “Could’ve Been,” and my personal favorite, “Promises Made.” Tiffany’s songs were considerably more risque and in-depth than Debbie’s; she even had the balls to cover a Beatles tune (and alter the lyrics no less). This does not mean, however, that her album didn’t have such crap as “Johnny’s Got The Inside Moves,” a song that to this day still makes no sense to me.
And yes, Tiffany had more than one album. Her second album, “Hold An Old Friend’s Hand,” had the single “All This Time,” which really showed a lot more progression in her voice. It’s a silly album and all, but she was sounding better, and her voice only improved with her next album that I would never have spent money on, “New Inside.”
Tiffany was neat in lots of ways. She played concerts in malls. She sued her mom for being a bitch and keeping all of her money. She looked better in a jean jacket than Debbie did. But she did do the voice of Judy Jetson in that lame Jetsons movie, and she did have that godawful squawk in her voice that constantly reminded you that this was Tiffany you were hearing.
And, much like Ms. Deborah, she too has a brand new album out for the year 2000. I haven’t heard it. I haven’t heard Debbie’s either, and I’m not particularly upset about this, considering I prefer to keep my ’80s teen pop stars where they belong — in the ’80s. However, while Debbie was off playing Eponine, Tiffany was recording one of my favorite songs of all time with none other than super-gods Frontline Assembly, a cover of U2’s “New Years’ Day.” It is incredible. People I know who hate U2 and Tiffany think this song is amazing.
So I am slightly biased here.
Even still, I think even if FLA hadn’t stepped in and singlehandedly made Tiffany kick ass, she was still the better of the two. Debbie’s pop was nice and all, and it’s great that she had talent and everything (more power to her), but at least Tiffany knew when to sit back and let someone else compose her garbage pop and keep her from embarrassing herself years down the road. Debbie Gibson has been quoted as feeling kind of embarrassed at her Greatest Hits collection; maybe that was a hint. Now if only Tiffany had included “Promises Made” on her Greatest Hits collection. Now I have to spend more money than I originally intended to get both that song and “All This Time.”
Being an ’80s fangirl is hard.
File Under…
I can’t believe I haven’t talked about Bubblegum yet.
If you want to learn about one of the craziest and most artistically insulting genres of music, knuckle down and buy this book. Essentially, the true bubblegum era of the late ’60s was a complete creation by money-hungry record company moguls who were hell-bent on packaging a pretty face (or a cartoon) with cheesy, upbeat music to force-feed kids. Some extreme talent went into the back ends of these records (and in fact, there are a few voices which are found indiscriminately thrown between large handfuls of albums), and most of them were just session musicians. Most of the lyrics are simple and appealing to children; however, there’s plenty of sexual tension undercurrent that was gently tossed in to the amusement of the adults doing the writing. Bubblegum music was to the children’s music audience what Animaniacs was to the children’s cartoon audience. That fact alone makes you want to go back and re-listen to “Sugar Sugar” to find the clearly orgasmic crescendo, and “Yummy Yummy Yummy” to giggle at how blatant these double entendres could be.
Most of the “bands” or “artists,” again, didn’t exist in the manner which they were marketed. However, some of the greatest talent was found behind records by The Archies, 1910 Fruitgum COmpany, Ohio Express, The Lemon Pipers, and the Banana Splits (who at one time had several “Banana Splits” on tour at once). Some of the more legitimate performers of the genre included Tommy Roe, Sweet, The Partridge Family, and Tommy James & the Shondells, but that didn’t necessarily make them respected. Still, when investigating the wonderful world of bubblegum, one can’t help but suddenly dig as hard as possible to find the Josie and the Pussycats singles that were on the backs of cereal boxes.
My Opinion Matters
Before I go on hating on someone in particular, I would like to pimp mc chris‘s tour dates. If you’re an Adult Swim fan, you have likely seen his name in a lot of cartoon credits. He’s been selling out almost every single show and documenting the tour in his LiveJournal. Catch him now before he blows up huge, I’m telling you.
Now to use my powers for evil. I need a moment to let off some steam about the Velvet Underground.
I write this with a huge smile on my face, knowing that as a music critic, one is supposed to worship all that is Lou Reed (and Nico, and anyone else who came within twelve inches of any other band member). However, I simply could never appreciate the gang.
Oh, sure, there are a few good songs here and there. There was also innovation and a pile of experimenting that likely influenced a whole pile of folks. But I’m sorry, the only true reason why they’re worshipped is because they were forthright about drugs and sex. They broke barriers and shocked the handfuls of people who actually thought Andy Warhol should produce. And quite honestly, I wish everyone would finally agree that Nico’s voice sounds like shit.
Looking at their catalog of innovations, the Velvets didn’t do anything that someone else didn’t come along at the same period of time and do themselves. They were noisy and began to show what would become roots of punk; welcome to everything else that was going on in the 1967 rock universe. Perhaps where they should be best credited isn’t for their experimentalism — many of which facets are again also traced to other parallel artists of the time — but for Reed’s ability to write some nice pop-rock songs. But is that how the Velvet Underground is ever referenced in rock history? Perhaps in the ’70s when they mainstreamed it up, but that’s all. I call bullshit. Compared to the grunge era, the Velvets weren’t Nirvana, nor were they Pearl Jam. Maybe they were Soundgarden.
The Rad Ones
Because I’m a renowned metalhead, I would be remiss to pimp Tom D’Errico. He’ll likely have another column up tomorrow. Let’s keep the metal horns alive and not let them be completely mainstreamed by the Bush family, okay?
Mathan talks about video game soundtracks. Did you know that a lot of video game music — particularly from the Metroid series — were taken from Italian prog tunes of the ’70s? I can guarantee you that an entire dissertation on the topic would bore you to tears, but it’s a neat little factoid to reference when you want to look like a smartypants.
Shawn M. Smith flattered the hell out of me, but that’s not why he gets the plug. He gets it for being a “f*ck up” with “untapped potential.” We stick with our own. Now if only I could get myself out of Iowa. Ahhh, maybe next year. Good luck in the big city, cowboy.
The Monday guys never get a plug from me because this column gets written before theirs go live on the site. So, check and see if J.J. or Gordi have some goodness for you. I would venture to guess that they might.
Outro
Are there any new releases that IP missed that you would like to see reviewed? Anything new coming out that you definitely want to seen an opinion on? Shoot me an e-mail, as now somehow I’m in charge of keeping the reviews a’flowin’ around here. Help us give you a reason to keep coming back, ya hear?
In the meantime, if you’re an artsy craftsy kind of person with a warped mind, Fetos are the greatest. Here’s a photo of me modeling my creation: Feto earrings. Everyone needs a pair!
Also, you kids and kiddies out there lookin’ for love, there’s a new AIM bot running around, picking up profiles and spamming them to others in your local area under the guise of “Cupid.” One of my friends, a male age 23, has been IMed twice now by 11 year old girls thanks to this bot. Might I just say that this is probably not the best way to find a mate? Then again, I’m not sure the Inside Pulse Dating Forum is much healthier, but at least they’re similarly on-par in hilarity factor.
Speaking of the ol’ Valentine’s Day (which I must speak of now, as next week will not be timely): guys, please, do something nice for your gals. I’m telling you right now, you don’t need to go get all creative or think too hard about it. You don’t need to invest your life savings in more roses than all of Wonderland. Cook the lady some supper, give her a body massage (not the Road-Block kind, please), take the time to remind her why she rocks. Don’t be all stupid and cliche. Just be honest. Of course, if your honesty takes the shape of jewelry, nobody is going to complain. Remember that Valentine’s Day is just one day out of 365 where you should be showing your woman how much you care.
And to all you bitches out there, how about doing something for the MAN in return, huh? The big red heart day wasn’t meant just to shower your prissy ass. How about buying him some flowers? Get him an electronic gadget, some tools, or whatever your man is into. Hell, after he gives you the massage, give him one back. Try giving the ladies of the world a good name by really appreciating the person who loves you.
If you’re gay, just rearrange all of those pronouns. You know what I’m talking about.
Sunshine deh yah a time fi di bus ride,
–gloomchen
