September 2009 Archives

The things I find when digging through my iTunes library never cease to amaze me. Case in point: Affrissippi's Alliance. I don't know where it came from - although I can guess. You see, I have a problem. Most of the people who know me know this all to well. I'm like Tyler Durden but instead of sleep walking around the country and starting fight clubs or peeing in soup or making soap or plotting to rid the world of credit cards, I think I wake up at night and download music. And then you know what happens? I never listen to any of it.

I am Jack's complete and utter lack of surprise at the 10,997 items, 33:13:59:21 total time, 69.72 GB of music that have a play count of zero. OK, that number is a bit of an exaggeration. I tend to load stuff into iTunes that I have listened to before but never get around to listening to again. But there is a lot of stuff that I have no idea why I have it or where it came from.

And this brings us back to Affrissippi. I don't know who they are. Normally I have some sort of foot note tucked away in my brain. Pull the card on Affrissippi and . . .  nothing. I am Jack's failed Dewey Decimal system.

I could do the sensible thing and just ply Google for information, but I think I like it better this way.

Stuff to Sample: From Affrissippi's Alliance "01 Singha.mp3"

I love the pink sweater-wearing, starter mullet-growing, bald chick-dating, walking, (nonstop) talking, freak show that is Kanye West. Apparently, during last night's MTV Video Music Awards (I know! They still give away awards even though they don't show videos. Crazy!) Kanye West bum rushed the stage and grabbed the mic away from Taylor Swift (who is very hot and talented and writes very annoying, gratingly-pretty country pop songs that make me want to put a plastic bag over my head) and began to tell anyone who would listen that he thought Beyonce should have won whatever award they were giving away at that very moment. I wouldn't know. I didn't watch. Except for Beyonce's performance. She's nice to look at. And my TV remote has a mute button. Also helpful.

Anyway, I think I've figured out how Kanye has stayed as famous for as long as he has (because it's not like he's been releasing very good music lately). All he has to do is cause a scene at a major award show. That's it. About once a year is all it takes. It fail proof. The event planners know he's going to do it they just don't know when or where. And they have to invite him because if they don't he'll still throw a hissy-fit, it just won't be on air, during their show and that won't translate into big ratings. So they invite him to everything, the only problem is they can't predict it. He's like that whack-a-mole game. You never know when 'Ye will pop up and say something crazy.

I really hope he decides to go into politics one day. Now that would be entertaining.

Also, go read the post OpAmp just put up. Because if you love the Internets like I do, you'll want to be in the know.

Stuff to Steal: Help yourself to a piece of 'Ye's fading credibility

I've been thinking about the LP lately. Over at The Qualifier, the Q-Man was rambling on about the death of long format and just the other day, C$ and myself had a conversation on the very same topic.

I'm not too concerned about the imminent demise of the long player - great music is like water, it will settle into what form it needs to take. What got my brain spinning was this: we've had over fifty years of LPs and I could only come up with one truly great album. An album that was stellar from start to finish. No filler. No tracks I felt so so about. Nothing that would even make me think about lifting the needle or hitting fast forward.

The thing is, the "Greatest LP Argument" is a completely subjective exercise. The stars have to align not only for the band who is making the record but for the listener as well. That moment has to be perfect for the person hearing the music to think, "this is the greatest record of all time." And then that feeling must be carried on to each subsequent listening one year, five years,  fifty years into the future. It's no small feat to make a truly great LP, let alone have the listener hold that opinion into the foreseeable future. Circumstances change. People change. Time, as we all know, is the great equalizer of all things, reducing even the sturdiest monuments of human achievement to dust, returning it to the ether from which it came.

Looking back over the past decades I'm hard pressed to hoist the mantle of "Greatest LP" on any album - except one. Pink Floyd's Dark Side Of The Moon. That might be a bit cliche but I can find no fault with that record. From the first time I heard it to this very moment (a scant 14 years by my estimation), I still hold it in the highest esteem. I could make the same argument for several other records (Radiohead's Kid A and OK Computer come to mind) but even under the most perfect circumstances I start to doubt longevity and begin to nitpick. So my question is this, dear readers: can you find fault in assertation? If Darkside Of The Moon is not the greatest album of all time, what is?