Crystal Bowersox; image courtesy of examiner.com
I kick off the penultimate week of “Tuning In” with my thoughts on the Crystal Bowersox, American Idol‘s lone female contestant.
Archive for May, 2010
Devin and Landry, East Dillon's newest transplants; image courtesy of latimesblogs.latimes.com
I close out week six of “Tuning In” with a post on Friday Night Lights and music geeks. With any luck, it’ll get you pumped for tonight’s episode.
Poster to "Grace of My Heart"; image courtesy of wikimedia.org
Last night, my friend Erik came over with a copy of Allison Anders’s 1996 feature Grace of My Heart. As it’s loosely based on Carole King’s life and I read Sheila Weller’s Girls Like Us this past summer, I was eager to see it. I haven’t watched Anders’s Mi Vida Loca or Gas Food Lodging, but I have seen Border Radio, which she co-directed. While Border Radio lacked much of a story, it looked great and is a necessary document of the 80s East L.A. punk scene. Thus, I thought Anders could bring something to a music biopic.
I also miss Illeana Douglas, who I used to see in more things. Remember how rad she was as Nicole Kidman’s sister-in-law in To Die For? I skate on your grave, honey.
Erik told me that Sonic Youth’s “Little Trouble Girl” was originally written for the movie and later added to Washing Machine. In fact, the movie’s songs were written and performed by then-contemporary artists channeling pop nostalgia to evoke the Brill Building, The Beach Boys, and King’s Tapestry. This was a 90s hallmark evident in tribute compilations to Saturday morning cartoons and The Carpenters, as well as with supergroups formed to accompany biopics on The Beatles and glam rock.
So how would the musical contributions and on-screen appearances of Dinosaur Jr.’s J. Mascis, Red Kross, For Real, Jill Sobule, and Juned inform the viewer’s understanding of the period? Also, would they work with compositions written by Elvis Costello, Burt Bacharach, and Joni Mitchell?
As it turns out, the music is the movie’s best asset. The movie has considerable promise and starts off well in its documentation of Edna Buxton’s professional ascendancy as songwriter Denise Waverly at the Brill Building and her struggle to become a female solo artist at a time when female musicians were either singers or songwriters. Thus, sexism and shifting gender norms is at the fore of the movie, which is great, as is its uncommented-upon racial integration. There’s also special attention paid to female collaboration between Waverly and various female pop acts. The movie also foregrounds the kinship between Waverly and songwriter Cheryl Steed (Patsy Kensit), who tap into teen singer Kelly Porter’s (Bridget Fonda) closeted lesbianism — she’s clearly meant to stand in for Lesley Gore — when they write “My Secret Love” for her.
I also like that the movie ends on Waverly cutting her first solo record, Grace of My Heart, which becomes hugely successful and era-defining in much the same way that Tapestry was and continues to be.
The movie’s main problem is that it simply packs too much in and resorts to awkwardly executed high melodrama in the second half. And for some reason, the movie thinks it also needs to tackle Brian Wilson’s onerous pop genius and descent into madness, and thus marries its avatar Jay Phillips to Buxton. There’s the additional misfortune of casting Matt Dillon in the role, who operates on only two modes as an actor: dumb and really dumb.
I’m also not fond of Douglas’s faked singing. While part of this is the movie’s fault, as Kristen Vigard dubbed singing isn’t a convincing match for Douglas, I have a hard time buying the actress’s musical performances throughout.
But to Douglas’s credit, amidst all that goes on in this overstuffed movie, she does a great job conveying how Waverly’s resultant experiences age, jade, and strengthen her. It’s a shame that the movie can’t always rise to the occasion.
Annie, the only female musician we've met so far on Treme; image courtesy of tvguide.com
Today’s “Tuning In” entry is all about HBO’s Treme, paying particular attention to its musical gender gap.
Sleigh Bells' "Treats" (Mom + Pop, N.E.E.T.; 2010); image courtesy of wikimedia.org
NPR is currently streaming Sleigh Bells’ full-length debut Treats, which came out yesterday. Folks were all a-Twitter (nyuk nyuk) about it, including folks like Maura Johnston. This release, off M.I.A.’s N.E.E.T. label, is hotly anticipated. It follows “Crown on the Ground,” which Pitchfork named one of the best singles of 2009. Community‘s Donald Glover also sampled the song for his rap outfit Childish Gambino. As additional incentive, the album boasts a sweet cover. A photo of a cheerleading squad with the girls’ faces scratched out? Some Gleeks must feel vindicated.
For those unfamiliar with Sleigh Bells, the duo make abrasive pop music that grinds Derek Miller’s harsh guitar riffs and pounding drums against Alexis Krauss‘s sugary vocals. Imagine Lush‘s Emma Anderson and Miki Berenyi singing to Ratatat‘s hard rock guitar loops with The Go! Team contributing samples, claps, and children’s choruses. Then turn the amps to 11, blow out your speakers, and feel your ears bleed. This is the kind of music you want to pump in your car, but probably shouldn’t so as to avoid becoming a road hazard.
Now, I’m not sure if I’ll champion Sleigh Bells when we look back on the decade. We’ll see how if they live up to their (literal and figurative) buzz. I like “Infinity Guitars,” though note some problematic lyrics that brings to mind Jessica Yee’s dress-down of hipsters’ Native American appropriation. I love “Rill Rill,” but am not sure how much of this has to do with lyrics about girls with braces or the sample of Funkadelic’s “Can You Get to That.” But for now, we have a pretty solid debut that juxtaposes the harsh muscularity of metal and rock guitar with deceptively sweet female vocals. Play it loud.
Cover to "I Learned the Hard Way" (Daptone, 2010); image courtesy of pastemagazine.com
So, this outfit’s fourth album has been out for a little over a month. Better to get to it now than never, especially since I’ve been playing it constantly since I bought it on Record Store Day.
In many ways, what’s kept me from writing about I Learned the Hard Way is the question, “what is there to say?” Sure, some folks may criticize how many “done me wrong” odes there are in the band’s catalog. They as also bristle at the inclusion of problematic songs like “She Ain’t a Child No More,” which details alcoholism, parental negligence, and mother-daughter child abuse.
But my endorsement of the album may be informed by being a white girl who feels tough blasting these songs in her car, belting the title track, “The Game Gets Old,” “Better Things,” “Money,” and “Mama Don’t Like My Man” as I cruise the Hancock Center parking lot on trips to H.E.B.
But I’ve always appreciated the resilience and resistance evident in the majority of the group’s catalog. I Learned the Hard Way simply proves the rule once again.
Furthermore, while some may still not be in the know, folks may deride the Dap-Kings for being one of the most consistent recording acts going right now, as this album proves once again. They’re also super-accessible. I’ve been listening to this band since around 2004. In that time, I’ve recommended them to just about everyone, including many parents. And what’s there for them not to love? Tight arrangements and warm analog production from a group who plays their late 60s retro soul influences so close to the vest there’s no room for kitsch.
Oh, and let’s not forget the woman standing front and center — a pint-size, middle-aged former prison guard named Sharon Jones who channels the voice and moves of James Brown. It’s also to their credit that they’re a phenomenal live act. I’ve seen them twice, each time with my partners’ parents, whose mother can do the mashed potato and the funky four corners right along with Jones. Both times they proved funkier and more energetic than 99% of any act I’ve seen cross a stage. If you haven’t seen them before, as Terry Gross hadn’t when she interviewed Jones and founder Gabe “Bosco Mann” Roth in 2007, get to work on it.
I will point out that I like Jones’s placement on the cover, which was photographed by Jacob Blickenstaff. In the previous three covers, she was posed alone. While Naturally is my favorite of these, as I like the singer’s casual pose and the cover’s aesthetic, I read 100 Days, 100 Nights, perhaps in relation to its release, as a singular act of defiance. The album came out amidst backing band the Dap Kings’ playing with Amy Winehouse. While I don’t want to decry Winehouse, I was concerned that Jones’ backing band would be associated with a rail-thin, troubled British singer and their work with an empowered black woman would be overshadowed by short-sighted, tone-deaf tabloid fodder.
Amy Winehouse; image courtesy of boston.com
Thus, I really like how Jones represents herself in the current album cover: strong, focused, dead center, and flanked by her band. They look just as I’ve seen them in concert: sharply dressed, sharper minded, and ready to raise up from society’s rubble and asphalt into pop’s lexicon.
Daria Morgendorffer; image courtesy of buzznet.com
I’ve been excited about Daria coming out on DVD since last summer. Today’s “Tuning In” entry celebrates tomorrow’s release.
10
May
10
R.I.P., Lena Horne
Lena Horne will be missed; image courtesy of seattletimes.nwsource.com
Sad news greets us this morning. Lena Horne died Sunday night at age 92. The first time I saw her was on The Cosby Show, in an episode where Cliff and Claire Huxtable celebrate their wedding anniversary. My mom was quick to point me toward her duet rendition of “Bein’ Green” with Kermit the Frog on Sesame Street and from there I learned that she was a legend. As she was a great lady who deserves our respect, I thought I’d share some of my favorite clips.
Mariah Carey Vs. Mariah Carey; image courtesy of mtv.com
At lunch the other day, Kristen at Act Your Age and I got on the subject of music videos, as we are wont to do. We were talking about instances where artists play multiple characters in clips, which brought to mind this entry on Beyoncé and Bat for Lashes. We could only come up with female artists, though my partner also brought up OutKast’s “Hey Ya” and The Foo Fighters’ “Learn To Fly.” I’d point out that the former seems to only be possible because Andre 3000 had already established himself as an eccentric, feminizable fashion icon though I wonder if any women — besides ex Erykah Badu, who directly referenced “Hey Ya” in “Honey” — has played an entire band. I also have to say that the latter showcases regressive stereotypes of girls, homosexual man, and fat women. Yikes!
In Jennifer Lopez’s “Get Right” she plays pretty much every character: the club deejay, a bartender, a dancer, a clubgoer trying to dance away her heartache, her friend, a celebrity, the celebrity’s nerdy (and potentially queerable) fan, and the video star projected on the club’s screens. She also appears to be playing outside her race at times, inhabiting white characters as well as Latinas. Oh, and fun fact: the girl playing the deejay’s kid sister as actually Lopez’s stepdaughter Ariana. Click on J.Lo’s name to watch.
Jennifer Lopez
“Get Right”
Rebirth
Directed by Francis Lawrence
Mariah Carey’s “Heartbreaker” recycles the played-out good girl-blonde/bad girl-brunette binary, but I like that she also gets to recreate the “Look at Me, I’m Sandra Dee” scene in Grease and that there’s an animated version of herself that both characters watch at the movies.
Mariah Carey featuring Jay-Z
“Heartbreaker”
Rainbow
Directed by Brett Ratner
Britney Spears — who has put on multiple aliases in “Toxic” and “Womanizer” — also brings out the blonde/brunette binary for “Gimme More.” However, I find it interesting that blonde Spears is at a strip club with girlfriends and is watching brunette Spears perform as club talent.
Britney Spears
“Gimme More”
Blackout
Directed by Jake Sarfaty
American Sabor; image courtesy of thestoryoftexas.com
I just got back from the American Sabor exhibit at the Bob Bullock Museum, which I took my partner, mother, stepfather, and stepbrother to see. I specifically wanted to take my mom, a choir director, in honor of Mother’s Day. This wonderful collection focuses on Latino and Latinas contributions to popular music. Having heard guest curator/University of Washington professor Michelle Habell-Pallán’s plenary presentation on the collection at Console-ing Passions, I was itching to go. As a music history educator for Girls Rock Camp Austin, I couldn’t wait to start incorporating these artists into our curriculum.
Exhibit guest curators (from left to right): Michelle Habell-Pallán, Shannon Dudley and Marisol Berríos-Miranda; image courtesy of uwnews.org
Three days after Cinco de Mayo, it’s particularly relevant given the racism and xenophobia informing policies like Arizona’s SB 1o70, which my former professor Jennifer Fuller rightly dubbed as wrong-headed at a recent protest in town. If you live in the Austin area, make it a priority to see the exhibit this weekend, as tomorrow is its last day at Bob Bullock.
The bilingual exhibit doesn’t divide the work of these musicians so much by genre, as it’s clearly making the case that Latino and Latina contributions have been varied, ingratiating itself in rock, hip hop, country, dance, soul, jazz, and a myriad of other musical styles. Instead, the exhibit is organized by geographical locations. The emphasized cities are San Antonio, East Los Angeles, San Francisco, Miami, and New York City, though contributions from folks in Tuscon, Houston, Chicago, and Detroit are also acknowledged. I particularly appreciated the care given toward providing a sociohistoric context toward migration patterns, cultural history, and the evolution of cityspaces in relation to the musical offerings and innovation of its populations.
There were many significant artifacts on display. I was particularly struck by outfits worn by Selena, Celia Cruz, Freddy Fender, and SB 1070 protestor Linda Ronstadt. I also enjoyed seeing Doug Sahm’s guitar, Eva Ybarra’s accordion, and Isidro Lopez’s speaker. I loved the wall of album covers and the displays of vintage posters, some of which were created by Los Angeles-based graphic designers Sister Karen Boccalero and Walter Nelez. I found the collected interview footage, oral history kiosks, and historical timelines for topics like lowrider cars, pachucos, Radio Jalepeno, the United Farm Workers strike, and the Chicano Rights Movement (which informed me of 1954′s sickeningly prescient Operation Wetback) most useful. I loved all the walk-in jukeboxes that represented each area and some of the more noteworthy songs or musical movements that emanated therein. I was energized by how many of these artists were politically active, including Los Illegals and Tijuana No!
I was also pleasantly surprised by how interactive the exhibit is. A dance floor is included for guests who want to learn salsa, mambo, cha cha, and a variety of disciplines these artists and their fans popularized. A mixing board is also available for folks who want to put together their own versions of “Song for Cesar” and “La Murga de Panamá.” I got a kick out of the Play That Hook station, which includes a piano with light-up keys to teach people how to play the hooks to songs like War’s “Low Rider.”
I especially loved how Latina musicians were incorporated throughout the exhibit rather than relegated to one section of it. I was delighted to see East L.A. punks Alice Armandariz of The Bags and Teresa Covarrubias of The Brat alongside San Diego’s Rosie Hamlin of Rosie and the Originals, whose teen pop classic “Angel Baby” (which Hamlin wrote) should be included with the One Kiss Can Lead To Another box set, along with singles from The Arvisu Sisters. I also delighted in discovering Martha Gonzalez of East L.A.-based Quetzal, who plays a tarima, which is a platform onto which the performer stomps rhythms.
I also enjoyed seeing and hearing the influence of Cuban musicians like La Lupe and Celia Cruz and the impact they had on future generations of Cuban American artists, most notably Gloria Estefan and the Miami Sound Machine.
As a Texan, I was so proud of Texas Latinas’ contributions to Tejano. Eva Ybarra, Lydia Mendoza, and Laura Canales broke barriers as some of the first women in Tejano’s myriad of subgenres, forging a path Selena would later bring closer to the mainstream. Bands like Girl in a Coma make clear that a variety of influences from multiple cultural origins can be brought together and positively rock in the process.
Thus, American Sabor proves that Latino and Latina contributions to popular music have been intrinsic and influential. By emphasizing the diversity of participants within this large aggregate, it makes the point even clearer that they themselves are ubiquitous in music culture.
