Death is a Star

Honestly, it’s pretty hard to be shocked by Saturday’s news that Amy Winehouse died at the age of 27. As I write this, no cause of death has been officially confirmed, but you’d have to be pretty fucking naive to think drugs had nothing to do with it. I don’t like to hear about anyone dying young, but what’s most depressing to me about Winehouse’s death is the fact that, unless you’re either unaware of her as a performer or completely delusional, it was easier to predict than Los Angeles weather.

I haven’t come here to necessarily praise Amy Winehouse, but I’m not here to bury her either. I have one Amy Winehouse album, Back to Black (the one most of us have, although it was preceded by a 2003 album called Frank) and I like it a lot. Its best moments put me in mind of the great lost soul and jazz divas: Billie Holiday, Nina Simone, Ella Fitzgerald. I don’t think you can argue against the assertion that Winehouse was talented but I also don’t think you can argue against the mountain of evidence that addiction buried that talent under a tidal wave of booze, pills, and smoke.

I did not know Amy Winehouse (Russell Brand did and his tribute to her is touching and incredibly erudite) so I’m not going to speculate about the kind of person she was. There are undoubtedly people who loved her and who are grieving intensely right now. To them, I offer my sincerest condolences. I know what it’s like to lose a loved one when they’re way too young for it to make sense in a rational universe and on top of their loss, Amy Winehouse’s loved ones will endure all manner of media speculation and rehashing of her worst moments over the next few days.

I think there’s a teachable moment here, but I don’t hold out much hope that the teaching will come. Every time a major talent dies young (or even a minor one, although that’s an aesthetic discussion for another time), there’s a lot of talk about how sad it was that they did drugs and some people just can’t wait to take their dicks out about the goddamn 27 Club, which is the most pathetic mythologizing of young death I’ve ever encountered. It’s not some mystical whatever-the-fuck that a lot of famous people have died at 27; they became famous young and had access to all manner of things that shorten life. That Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, Jim Morrison, and all those other people died at 27 isn’t any kind of magic or fate; it’s proof that the wick of our personal candles is pretty fucking short and the harder you burn it, the faster you’re done. There is nothing romantic or cool at all about dying young, whether you’re famous or not. And dying young because of addiction is a tragic waste.

The teachable moment I was referring to before I got all ranty is this: we have an opportunity, as Russell Brand correctly pointed out on his website, to reevaluate how we treat addiction as a society. He wrote that we need to start treating addiction, “as a disease that will kill,” even in the famous people whose intoxicated foibles make for light-hearted evening news fodder. Of course, to better treat addiction as a disease, we also have to stop treating disease as weakness, something we’re all too ready to do in cases of depression and addiction (I once heard a blowhard sound off on Kurt Cobain thusly: “He was rich! If he was depressed, I don’t understand why he didn’t just get help.” It took all my tact to not blurt out, “You also very clearly don’t understand real depression, you fucking moron”). To be clear, I’m not advocating that we all pay higher taxes to rehabilitate Lindsay Lohan – I’m saying we need to start treating everyone who suffers from addiction as if they are diseased and need help. In many cases, that’s help that they can’t or won’t seek for themselves. You might argue that it’s not our business if people want to destroy themselves and you’re only partly right – if you love someone, it is absolutely your business if they want to destroy themselves. Amy Winehouse’s fans couldn’t have done anything, short of maybe taking up a collection, to treat her addiction. But there were probably people near her who could have.

As fans of music, one thing we can do is try not to romanticize addiction. To my knowledge, we here at Bollocks! have never actively encouraged the downward spirals of any musicians; we don’t even report on stuff like that. But there were a lot of media outlets that gleefully shot photos and ground out copy whenever Winehouse was too bombed to perform and, as far as I know, not one of their headlines was ever, “We Want to Help Amy Winehouse Not Die Young.”

The other thing music fans can do is put to bed this retarded myth that drugs automatically make you more creative. If you’ve ever spent any time around stoners, you know that for every one person who genuinely seems to operate on some blissed out, higher level when they’re baked, there are a million more who only think they’re creative and are actually just embarrassing fucking jackasses when they’re high. Drugs didn’t make Jimi Hendrix an amazing guitar player, they made him a dead guitar player. Drugs made Amy Winehouse an increasingly erratic performer and if they weren’t the direct cause of her death, they certainly played a part.

And lest I be accused otherwise, I’m mostly not against doing drugs. I have smoked pot from time to time and quite enjoyed it, although it also made me tremendously tired and – because I like doing stuff – I hate being tremendously tired more than I hate almost anything else. I am very much against meth, however, because it cooks your fucking brain. But I drink beer and I drink coffee and I’m not going to be a self-righteous hypocrite about drugs. I honestly believe there are people who can handle their drugs and people who cannot. After divorcing my dad (who can handle his alcohol like a decent human being), my mother married/dated/whatevered a long line of dudes who absolutely couldn’t handle their drugs and their drug of choice was always alcohol. If someone needs alcohol in large quantities every day, that’s usually a sign that they can’t handle it (am I going to make an exception for coffee? Yes, because I’ve never had bottles thrown at me or been shot at by a dude who’s been drinking coffee all day). Amy Winehouse very clearly couldn’t handle her drugs and clearly needed help. Her death is a heartbreaking waste. First and foremost, it is a waste of life and – a distant second – it is a waste of musical talent. If even a few of us become more compassionate about the disease of addiction and more willing to help the ones we love who suffer from it, perhaps that waste can be mitigated.

 

 

TV on the Radio’s Finest Hour

If you’re a fan of TV on the Radio, you probably know by now that bassist Gerard Smith passed away Wednesday morning (April 2oth, 2011, if you’re reading this far in the future) at the age of 36. The band announced his lung cancer diagnosis just last month and seemed to be pretty upbeat about his prognosis.

I don’t know what to say about Gerard Smith because I didn’t know the guy; any attempt at eulogy here would come off as forced and possibly even insensitive. But I do know that Smith was part of one of the best bands making music right now and I think it’s fitting to celebrate his life by celebrating the music that he helped to create. Below, you’ll find my current favorite hour of TV on the Radio music – I say “current” because it changes all the time.

“Lover’s Day” – There are not a lot of great modern songs about awesome sex (if you think “Your Body is a Wonderland” is one, I have nothing but the sincerest compassion for whomever you’re having sex with). TV on the Radio took a great step toward remedying that by ending Dear Science with “Lover’s Day,” a song that rides a bouncing melody over suggestions that the dirty deed be done in such a way that the neighbors call the cops.

“Method” – I’m kind of a sucker for whistling in songs, when it’s done well (it’s about 50% of why I like Andrew Bird so much). “Method” has whistling, hand claps, and this badass little drum and cymbal thing in the middle of it. The song doesn’t get too specific, but I feel like it reflects the time in which it was record (2006) when it says, “There is hardly a method you know.”

“Dry Drunk Emperor”  - Speaking of reflecting 2006 accurately, “Dry Drunk Emperor” was a free gift from TV on the Radio to the world, written in the wake of the Bush administration’s “Heckuva job, Brownie,” response to Hurricane Katrina. It’s got a heavy low end and plenty of harmonies spitting lines about the titular emperor and his “mocking smile.” You can still download the song for free if you click the link – it’s still awesome, even if it is a bit dated.

“Ambulance” – TV on the Radio is full of dudes who can sing (Gerard Smith was one) and most of their best tracks feature layered vocal parts. But “Ambulance,” from Desperate Youth, Bloodthirsty Babes, is all vocals and nothing else. It’s a sweet song, in a saddish way: “I will be your accident/ if you will be my ambulance.” One of TV on the Radio’s all-time most beautiful songs.

“Poppy” – “Ambulance” is followed on Desperate Youth by another stunner – this one with 1990s guitars and late 80s hip-hop horn samples. It also has an a cappella part toward the end, making it a song that kind of builds backwards from its most explosive parts to its least. I think the sequence of “Poppy” right after “Ambulance” is perhaps the finest pairing of songs in the TV on the Radio oeuvre.

“Staring at the Sun” – This is actually the first TV on the Radio song I ever heard (the version from the Young Liars EP) and one of the first things you hear on it is a bass line that can only be described as throbbing (not played by Smith though; he joined the band in 2005). “Staring at the Sun” made it really hard for me to categorize TV on the Radio, which means they deserve some credit for my seething hatred of genre.

“You” – Though the competition is incredibly steep, the two most recent TV on the Radio albums are currently tied for being my favorite TV on the Radio albums. “You” is from the brand-new Nine Types of Light and not only is the melody super badass, I like the idea of being “constantly wrong” but trying to make it right in your dreams. I can identify with that feeling.

“Killer Crane” – Another Nine Types of Light tune and maybe the prettiest slow song TV on the Radio has ever done (that’s saying a lot). “Killer Crane” is also, by a wide margin, the most beautiful thing that’s ever been done with a banjo. I like the line “I can leave/ suddenly/ unafraid” and I hope with all my heart that it applies to Gerard Smith’s final hours.

“Wolf Like Me” – It might be easy – and pretty accurate – to classify TV on the Radio as purveyors of slow-burning, beautiful songs, but Return to Cookie Mountain‘s “Wolf Like Me” would stick a wrench in the works of your taxonomy. It’s a fan favorite of their live shows, probably because of the relentlessly charging rhythm and obvious-but-earnest werewolf transformation as sexual metaphor (unless you know what else to make of a song that talks about being down on all fours and offering to “show you what all the howl is for”).

“Golden Age” – Dear Science is known on the internet as TV on the Radio’s “dance” album, which makes an odd kind of sense. It’s got funkier rhythms than their other albums, and it sounds like they were channeling early Prince (read: “good Prince”) on songs like “Golden Age,” which urges you to “move your body/ you’ve got all you need.” The horn part toward the end of this song is icing on a cake made of awesomeness and crushed rainbows.

“Shout Me Out” – See what I said earlier about the last two TV on the Radio albums being my favorite? I guess that’s why Dear Science is dominating this list. ”Shout Me Out” starts with a riff that I believe is a nod (perhaps unintentional) to Tommy James’ “Draggin’ the Line” and builds to one of my favorite TV on the Radio hooks, “Lord, if you got loss/ come on, shout me out” (later in the song, I believe it’s sung “Lord, if you’ve got lungs/ come on, shout me out”). It ends with just a bunch of fuzzy guitar noise and I should like to state for the record that fuzzy guitar noise is some of my very favorite noise.

“Halfway Home.” This is probably TV on the Radio’s best opening track ever, and it starts off Dear Science with a flurry of “bah-bah-bah” vocals and pounding drums. Like all the songs on this list, “Halfway Home” has a melody that is the literal definition of indelible and it builds to an explosion around four and a half minutes, ending the tune in squalling guitars and those catchy-as-fuck background vocals.

Sadly, it doesn’t take very many TV on the Radio songs to fill up sixty minutes, but that’s how I’d do it. If I’ve learned anything from doing this, it’s that Dear Science is my current favorite TV on the Radio album, but that might be because (a little ashamed to admit this) I haven’t logged nearly as many hours with Nine Types of Light as I probably should. I have all weekend to remedy that. If you want to send TV on the Radio some love regarding Gerard Smith, there’s an email link on this page.

LCD Soundsystem’s Finest Hour

If, well, pretty much every internet music news source (reliable or not) is to be believed, James Murphy is pulling the plug on his band, LCD Soundsystem, at the end of this year. Which is basically four weeks from right now. While I’ve read that Murphy may still continue doing music, it’s still a bittersweet moment. On the one hand, LCD Soundsystem released three pretty excellent albums, one of which contains one of the best songs of the 21st century so far – in other words, the world needs LCD Soundsystem’s music, or music very much like it. On the other hand, Murphy is disbanding LCD Soundsystem at the height of their powers. If he makes good on his promise, there will be no disappointing falloff in the quality of LCD albums and they will always be rightly remembered as an amazing early 21st century band that was better than all of their peers at making rock music dance-able and/or dance music rock-able, depending on where you’re coming from.

So I thought it might be nice to send James Murphy and friends off with a proper salute: I’ve compiled a list of some great LCD Soundsystem songs totaling sixty minutes of listening bliss. It’s LCD Soundsystem’s Finest Hour, in no particular order. Read on:

“Daft Punk is Playing At My House.” Any discussion of this band is apt to include this song, which opens LCD’s eponymous debut album. This might still be LCD Soundsystem’s biggest hit and, though it’s not their best song, it’s still fucking awesome. James Murphy might be the only white guy who can pull off the “ow-ow” that he so jubilantly yelps at the outset of this tune.

“No Love Lost.” This Joy Division cover appears on a split tour single LCD Soundsystem did with the Arcade Fire. I saw them for the first time on this tour. At the Hollywood Bowl. While you’re busy envying me (I also have a hot wife, if that stokes the fires of your jealousy), I just want to point out that this version of “No Love Lost” is why James Murphy is one of only two people who should be legally allowed to cover Joy Division (the other is Trent Reznor, which may seem kind of obvious. But Nine Inch Nails’ version of “Dead Souls” is badass).

“North American Scum.” The first single from Sound of Silver, “North American Scum” was the 2007 party anthem for people who felt like they had to apologize for the lameness of their nation when traveling abroad (so, “Americans”). In further testament to LCD’s awesomeness, the video for this song features an awesome magic laser fight on the fucking moon. What else do you need to know?

“All My Friends.” This is the song I was talking about earlier when I said LCD Soundsystem wrote one of the best songs of the 21st century so far. This song, also from Sound of Silver, is perfect pop and it makes a superb soundtrack to all your best memories, assuming, of course, that you have friends (sorry, Dick Cheney).

“Disco Infiltrator.” Murphy has always been able to get away with being a bit ridiculous in his songs, mostly because the music still sounds good.  Case in point: “Disco Infiltrator,” from LCD Soundsystem.

“You Wanted a Hit.” Murphy thumbs his nose at the record industry, his fans, and himself, taking us past the nine minute mark before we even know what’s hit us. LCD Soundsystem had a special gift for creating long songs that didn’t piss me off. This song, from this year’s This Is Happening, is easily the best nine minute track of the year. In fact, This Is Happening probably contains the only good nine minute songs of the year.

“Movement.” LCD Soundsystem does punk. “It’s a like a culture without the effort of all of the culture,” Murphy sneers before working himself up to a shout on “You’re pillaging and I’m tapped.” One of my favorite LCD tunes, from their first record.

“Someone Great.” James Murphy does his best 80s Bowie on this track from Sound of Silver, a great tune about loss and the passage of time. What we’re losing with the end of LCD Soundsystem is a band that seamlessly blurred the lines between pop, dance, and rock.

“All I Want.” Another This Is Happening cut, the one that apes the e-bowed guitar part from David Bowie’s “Heroes.” I read a snarky review of This Is Happening that mislabeled this as “slide guitar.” But it’s an e-bow, the same as was used on Bowie’s tune. To quote DOOM, “If you’re gonna hate/ might at least get your facts straight.” Anyway, the Bowie homage isn’t really the meat of the song; “All I Want” perfectly captures the contradictory behavior people can get up to in relationships. Murphy sings  about coming home to “the girl who has put up with all of your shit” and then sings, “All I want is your pity/ all I want/ is your bitter tears.” The song’s a bit of a cry for help, but it’s an awesome one.

“The Great Release” officially closes LCD Soundsystem (there’s a bonus disc with some other great tracks, including “Losing My Edge,” which some people would argue should be included in my little list here. It’s a good song and, if I were going over sixty minutes with this list, I would include it) and it’s a very slow building song that ambles toward a climax on the line, “Something dying/ will be a great release.” This song also happens to be, in my estimation, the most unabashedly beautiful song in the LCD Soundsystem canon. I’ve heard that, if you live a good life, as  you die and go toward the light or whatever, you hear “The Great Release.” That may not be true, but that’s what I heard.

So that’s an hour’s worth of my favorite LCD Soundsystem tunes, although you’d be hard pressed to find bad tracks on any of their three albums. As I said before, LCD Soundsystem is stopping in their prime. If you have a minute on New Year’s Eve this year, maybe use it to raise your glass to James Murphy and his excellent band – I hope more than anything that, whatever he does next, Murphy tackles it with the humor and intelligence he brought to LCD Soundsystem. So long, Mr. Murphy, and thanks for all the fish the great music!

R.I.P. Ronnie James Dio

Well, the official word is that Ronnie James Dio, possibly the least photogenic man in all of hair metal, passed away yesterday at about 7:45 a.m. after a long battle with stomach cancer. He was 67.

I haven’t been a fan of Dio’s music since I was young, stupid, and really into hair metal (I had Def Leppard’s Hysteria on vinyl. I’m not proud), but nobody – not even that asshole from Wavves – deserves stomach cancer. I doubt many of Dio’s fans read Bollocks!, but I figured I’d pay a small tribute…

…by linking to the most hilariously over the top video I’ve ever seen – Dio’s “Holy Diver.” Farewell, RJD. May you ride tigers in Heaven. And don’t forget to toss up the devil horns while you’re there.