No, I didn't say pocket protector. Now I know the prototypes for this have been around for a while, but if you want all the geek cred a pocket device can muster, this might be the holiday toy for the bulging-wallet impaired. I wonder if comes with a velcro strip to secure it in case of clumsy table bumpers. For somewhere between $500-600 you can be the coolest cat on your block or you can use your neighbor's wall as a screen.
from dyscultured.com
In a post from a couple of months ago at lovehatethings.com, I lamented how the 99 cent download could be damaging to the integrity of many artists as it essentially did away with idea of the full album/cd as a unified piece. Citing that same defense (kind of), AC/DC this week said it would not sell any of its new album Black Ice on iTunes because people would be to tempted to buy single tracks and ignore others thus deconstructing the full work. Brian Johnson opined, "Maybe I'm just being old-fashioned, but this iTunes, God bless 'em, it's going to kill music if they're not careful...."
Two things... I do agree with the point that there should be a place for the full CD as a single work. I grew up listening mostly to music of a past generation in progressive rock. One of the reasons I was drawn to that style was the frequent ability to create larger scale concepts even through single songs set in a certain order.
But AC/DC... seriously... I appreciate the band and music for what they are: bawlz to the wall cawkrawk (don't ya love phonics?) but what album have they EVER released that could justify this stand? Now I appreciate that some people may have an affectation for listening to Back in Black as an entire piece, but that's mostly because people bought the CD to look retro-cool to their friends, or they stole it from an older relative's collection, and not becuase there's an intrinsic tie that holds the songs together any more that any AC/DC song. I mean, let's face it, other than the different growlings of Bon Scott and Brian Johnson, the couple of hundred riff-laden guitar rock songs of AC/DC could probably be interchanged from one album to the next without much problem.
So, if artistic integrity is not the issue, could it be that the band is simply afraid that the single hit or two they may have from this album will cause their demographic of fans to readily buy a full CD anyway? We know that integrity from a social justice perspective is not the issue, because their retailer of choice is Walmart.
I think they could have had a great marriage with "You Shook Me All Night Long" and the new iPod Nano's shake and shuffle technology... it would have been interesting to see Steve Jobs dressed in a school boy uniform at a press conference anyway.
May Or May Not Contain
Open At Other End
The K is Silent
The Cruellest Month
God City
Attention: Ignore This
Chet's Jalopy
Aunt Arctic
Secret Milkshake
Guano Vox
I wish I was joking about this. I wish people had the sensibility to realize that while music is lifeblood, merging it with anything doesn't end in positive results. I suppose after this I should just be writing "lovehatethings.com: the musical" with jaunty little number about being misunderstood while growing up and big finale that incorporates at least three previous themes used from Act One and Two.
$40 million for startup and $1 million a week just to produce... oh, but Bono's involved, it must be good. I'm guessing every song starts with effect-laden guitar inversions strummed quickly and repeatedly halfway up the neck... I think it will be opening where the streets have no name.
Here's an idea! Give 40 struggling talented writers $1 million each and ask them to write an original musical. I guarantee at least a dozen would be better than Spiderman will ever be. I'm going to be sick now.
Certainly not two of the common group of muppets, but I always remember these two rather surreal pieces of the extended family of Jim Henson:
Crazy Harry (Mad Bomber)
Lew Zealand (Boomerang Fish Thrower)
I also always think of Marillion's "Hotel Hobbies", even though the lyrics paint a far seedier experience than I usually have. I imagine that, for someone whose job had them living in hotels on a weekly basis, they may able to identify with some of the experiences in the lyrics more readily. I just dig any lyrics that Derek Dick writes.
The tell tale tocking of the last cigarette
marking time in the packet as the whisky sweat
lies like discarded armour on an unmade bed.
A familiar craving is crawling in his head.
And the only sign of life is the ticking of the pen
Introducing characters to memories like old friends.
Frantic as a cardiograph scratching out the lines,
A fever of confession a catalogue of crime in happy hour.
Do you cry in happy hour? Do you hide in happy hour?
The pilgrimage to happy hour.
New shadows tugging at the corner of his eye,
jostling for attention, as the sunlight flares
through a curtains tear, shuffling its beams
as if in nervous anticipation of another day.
I know that most people usually spend at least some time in gas stations these days thinking about how many oil company execs they can drown in the still oil-laden waters of Alaska, but after you faint and awake, looking up, you may find that design did not leave the petrol pumps behind.
