Counterbalance: December 2009 Archives

In a past life, Fresh and the Qualifier used to get paid to write about music. For years they toiled through a tag-team article called Counterbalance, going head to head, hashing out the relative merits of new releases for the local Chicken Dinner Newspaper. But that was a long time ago - before the economy crashed, sending their frivolous Arts & Entertainment section down in flames.

After wandering in the wilderness, lost and directionless, Fresh and the Qualifier have returned to take on their most challenging assignment: the Greatest Albums of All-Time. Do these critics' darlings hold up, or are they just hyped up?

The Velvet Underground & Nico's self-titled debut album - number four on the list - started out as all hype thanks to Andy Warhol but somehow managed to become one of the most influential records of all time. Has this record outlasted it's fifteen minutes of fame?

Fresh: I love the way this album starts off with the airy feel of "Sunday Morning" and its ambiguous, non-threatening lyrics. After that its all down-hill, like picking up a rock and peering into the seedy underbelly of urban America in the 1960s. It's fantastic. Except the parts where Nico sings. I could do without that.

Qualifier: Ah, but Fresh, without Nico there might not be a Velvet Underground as we know it. Allow me to oversimplify: Andy Warhol essentially pulled Lou Reed, John Cale and Co. from obscurity in order to have a backing band for his newly discovered "chanteuse," offering up his brand name and connections in exchange for hearing her Kissinger-esque tones on vinyl. After they got in the studio, actual producer Tom Wilson was so taken with Nico's Teutonic appeal that he insisted that Reed write a single just for her. Somehow that song became "Sunday Morning," and Lou ended up singing it anyway. (I'm not sure how that happened; I'm assuming a blonde wig and some coquettish flirting was involved.)

In a past life, Fresh and the Qualifier used to get paid to write about music. For years they toiled through a tag-team article called Counterbalance, going head to head, hashing out the relative merits of new releases for the local Chicken Dinner Newspaper. But that was a long time ago - before the economy crashed, sending their frivolous Arts & Entertainment section down in flames.

After wandering in the wilderness, lost and directionless, Fresh and the Qualifier have returned to take on their most challenging assignment: the Greatest Albums of All-Time. Do these critics' darlings hold up, or are they just hyped up?

Find out as we examine the number three LP, Nirvana's Nevermind. Dust off your flannel shirt - it's going to be a grungy good time!
 
Qualifier: Hey, Fresh, remember the 1990s? What a crazy time! What with the Friends gang and the heroin chic and that hilarious guy Clinton makin' mischief in the White House. Woo! Well here it is, crystallized in musical form!
 
Fresh: Ah, the 1990s. I remember that decade (vaguely). It was a simpler time, an age of innocence. You could still carry water bottles on airplanes and tell airport security screeners where they could stick that metal detector wand without fear that you might end up in Gitmo. Plus, grunge was everywhere. Depressed, apathetic kids, looking for an out from the system. They were angry and authentic. Not like today's emo children. Deep down, all the emo children want is a hug from Mommy. Back then, all the grunge kids wanted was heroin - the only real existential escape from their existential hell. Albert Camus would have been proud. Or completely indifferent. Probably completely indifferent.
 
Q: Yes, Camus practically crackles with frissons of indifference. And now we come to Camus' modern day equivalent, Kurt Cobain. (That's right, teenagers writing research papers, I said it! Include me in your bibliographies!)
 
What's your take on Nevermind coming in at number three on our big list, Fresh? Above Bob Dylan, above the Rolling Stones? It strikes me as a little odd that rock critics the world over have placed this album so consistently high. Are they just trying to prove that even aging, doughy, bespectacled rock nerds are down with the modern sounds, or is this album as groundbreaking as this ranking would have you believe?