Seeking a writing position in culturally relevant fields such as sports, music, or entertainment. Primarily concerned with gaining experience as a writer in a professional setting.
Key Strengths
Highly motivated by strong desire to write professionally;
Accelerated learning rate;
Excellent knowledge of cultural institutions, particularly sports, music, movies, television, and video games;
Familarity with new media and technology trends (blogs, social networking, RSS feeds, podcasting, etc.).
Relevant Skills
Excellent writing abilities (see attached samples);
Print and web design abilities (see attached samples);
Familiarity with graphic and web design software: Photoshop, Illustrator, After Effects, Flash;
HTML and CSS programming.
Education
1 year studying Aerospace Engineering at the Georgia Institute of Technology;
1 year studying Mechanical Engineering at the University of Kentucky;
2 years studying English at the University of Kentucky;
17 credits short of Bachelor of Arts in English, with Literature and Creative Writing concentrations.
Relevant courses taken: two semesters of writing workshops under the tutelage of authors Kim Edwards and Gurney Norman; graduate-level course on psychoanalytic theory; one semester each of film studies, art history, and music appreciation.
Experience
Multiple creative positions, iHigh.com, Lexington, KY, July 2006 to July 2007
Music Channel Editor
wrote music reviews, essays;
edited all music content and maintained all related pages.
iHigh.com Site Manager
Managed all content on the iHigh.com site and subsites;
Designed sites for iHigh clients;
Facilitated communication between sales team and site developers;
Designed printed flyers, posters, and other media for iHigh clients;
Communicated with iHigh.com users for customer service concerns;
Wrote press releases, mass email updates, and newsletters.
References
Rick Ford CEO - iHigh,Inc. 859.225.4488 rick@ihigh.com
John Williamson The Whiteboard Consultant 859.948.1994 john@whiteboardconsultant.com
Tim Savage Savage Syndications 859.983.9698 tim@savages.cc
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I've read many life and times pieces on J. Dilla since his death in February. They tell about his quiet rise to stardom, all the big names and hip hop idols that became his friends. Then they tell about how just as he reached his prime, he became incurably ill. His death roused the hip hop world to make more noise about him than he'd ever allowed during his life. Those articles have been written over and over. I don't need nor do I want to write one of those. Still, when I started writing for iHigh the first thing I wanted to write about was Dilla.
I didn't get to know Jay Dee until last year when I picked up Champion Sounds, his collaboration with Madlib. It had an edge to it that I recognized but couldn't place. It seemed like I'd heard it everywhere and didn't realize it until that moment. I knew Jay Dee's name but I didn't know his work. I didn't know what he was about. I was one of those people who might have confused some references to him as references to Jermaine Dupri (one of the reasons behind his shift to the name J. Dilla about five years ago). But on Champion Sounds I finally heard something my ears had been yearning for, something raw and real.
The next album I picked up was Welcome 2 Detroit. I hadn't heard it though I had heard pretty much every other BBE Beat Generation album. That record knocked me out. I mean gut, jaw, one, two, floored. Dilla's music was not tidy, but it was sharp. It's got an unabashed honesty in it that is almost obscene.
From there I worked my way back. I couldn't believe I had missed this guy. I went back and listened to some of my favorite songs only now knowing who was responsible for them. Having gone Dilla crazy, listening to his songs for days on end, I finally came around to Common's “The Light.” There are a lot of good memories attached to that song, in high school I listened to Like Water For Chocolate hundreds of times, always with repeated plays of “The Light.” I almost skipped it this time, though, thinking “I know this song, what more can I get out of it?”
As it turns out, I got a dizzying shift in perspective. I heard things I'd never noticed before, the little rough patches on samples, a quiver in a voice, something just barely off beat but still on time. I was mystified. So began my obsession with Jay Dee.
It was, admittedly, a brief obsession. I wanted to go see his shows and keep track of all his singles. I looked for rare and unreleased stuff. Then I started checking for news updates. It wasn't long before I noticed snippets here and there about his illness. Something about lupus, which I knew enough about to know this was already a tragedy. But things looked hopeful. He was touring; he actually rocked shows from a wheelchair. He was lying on hospital beds making beats, the room filled with his equipment, records, and beat tapes. The stories were comic, light-hearted anecdotes and images illustrating his commitment. His love for hip hop was so much stronger than any physical debilitation, it couldn't keep him down. It was like watching Rudy. I sat at my computer reading updates and chanting “DIL-LA, DIL-LA, DIL-LA,” trying to send some positive energy his way. But it wasn't long before he was gone.
At the time I was doing a radio show on the university station, and I used the opportunity to get his music out there. I made sure to say his name after I played one of his songs. At the end of every night I gave him shout-outs and get-well-soons. On the night of his death I walked into the studio with armfuls of Dilla and found that the DJ that was on before me was doing a Dilla tribute, too. I looked at his records, he looked at my CDs, and we both sighed. Turns out I wasn't the only one who knew about the magic Jay Dee's sounds. As I took over at the controls we started talking about the man and his music. Our stories were strikingly similar: we'd both been listening to and loving his work for a long time before we found out who he was, once we did we were hooked. He'd been a fan much longer than I had been and spoke of the music much more articulately than I could manage in all my excitement at the time. I put the CD player on continuous play and let whole albums play as we sat there trying to figure out wherein lay the genius of Dilla, as we'd both immediately agreed that it was true genius that we were dealing with. We'd stop mid-sentence as something was playing that perfectly illustrated the points we were trying to make and after a couple bars we'd both break out in laughter. Looking back we should have left the mics turned on and broadcast that conversation while his songs were playing in the background. I couldn't imagine a more fitting tribute.
What we decided was that Jay Dee's genius lay in his love. The love he had for music translated directly to his work as a producer. It hardly seems revolutionary but the idea that you should listen to the whole record before sampling it was something that made Dilla stand out from other producers. And by listen I mean reallylisten. Dilla had a warehouse full of vinyl and he made a point of listening to it all. He left one just finished and two unfinished albums for us to listen to but, more tragically, he never had the time to finish listening to all the records he had bought and would by in the future.
The love he had for making music ran just as deep. His mother, Maureen Yancey, has started Ma Dukes Records to make sure that the hundreds of hours of unreleased beats and songs that he produced will eventually be released. The stories of him still making beats in the hospital bed are a great example of just how much he was committed to hip hop.
The love he had for friends, family, and other artists is undeniable. The outpouring of respect and affection from every imaginable source in the wake of his death was probably the most epic moment of musical unity since “We Are the World.” His love was infectious and it was requited.
It had to be the love. It had to be something abstract, untouchable and unknowable, because it will never be duplicated. That's what hip hop has to face with his death: a whole that cannot be filled. That's exactly what I felt with his death. The loss of a special presence is felt immediately, even when you had no idea it had always been there. When Pharrell told the audience of 106 and Park that his favorite producer was Jay Dee, he famously remarked that the crowd had probably never herd of him. They've probably heard of him by now. They probably own three of his albums by now.
As a listener I can feel assured that I will probably be hearing new Jay Dee music for years to come. But as a fan it is hard to be assured of anything. I remember the days after Kurt Cobain's death in '94, when I was just ten years old, watching people crying and mourning on TV. Huge crowds showed up at his home to honor him and his music. I didn't get it then, but I do now. Genius in an artist, especially a beloved artist, is a superhuman quality and the superhuman is something we can all rally around. To rise above the lowliness that sometimes comes with being human (or to appear to do so anyways) is to give hope to the rest of us who can't. Death of the extraordinary is persistence of the ordinary, and certainly worth mourning.
Jay Dee's music is amazing, but in his story it is merely an element of character. It is the basis of his genius, which is the crux of his story and it is the story that is ultimately important. I don't care if you don't like hip hop, but you can appreciate a story. In this story, Dilla's mastery in his field makes us sympathetic and his tragedy inspires us and compels us to our own great heights. Like Brian's Song, we couldn't help but mourn Brian Piccolo, not because he died but because he died before his potential was fulfilled. It is these stories that bind us as a collective. We can take Dilla as our own, as a representative human being, without ever hearing a single song of his because he represents an ideal for which we can all strive. He perished just before reaching the mountain top and now his ghost beckons us to finish what he didn't have the chance to.
Almost a week later I've come to terms with the Twins' early exit from the MLB playoffs. But I'm still lamenting such a sorry conclusion to such a dream of a season. They overcame a 12 1/2 game deficit to take the division title, snatching it from the Tigers so dramatically on the final day of the season. What's worse? The A's not only beat us, they swept us without breaking a sweat. (In case you didn't know the A's and Twins have a heated playoff rivalry thats been getting ugly in recent years between the fans)
I could blame Santana for not shutting them down in Game 1, I could blame Liriano for breaking down at the end of the season when we needed him most, I could blame the 12 years of grit and grind that Brad Radke's pitchign arm endured while he carried the club with merely modicum of recognition before finally giving out in the playoffs, I could even blame Torii Hunter for finally making a mistake in the outfield after so many years of Gold Glove perfection.
But I won't, I will only blame myself. I should have stayed home from work to watch the games. I should have been waving my Homer Hankies (all eight of them) simultaneously until the A's were shut down. Then I should have continued waving those Hankies until all competition was demolished and the Twins were once again World Champions. What a blissful moment that would have been. In the year of Kirby's death, the Twins dream season, dedicated to #34, would culminate in a World Series victory...
Alas, this is not Little Big League. There are no storybook endings. Something much less exciting will happen. The Mets or Tigers, the favorites four months ago, will end up winning it all. It may go to seven games, it may end in a sweep, who really cares? The best of all things that could have happened didn't happen. And now, with the big money off the board, we're staring at Howie Mandel and he's asking us "Deal or no deal?" And all we can do is sigh, and take the deal. Because this is reality, where "next year" is always next year and "this year" doesn't mean a thing.
(By the way: next year the Twins are going all the way ;)
El Duderino, If You're Not Into the Whole Brevity Thing
If you've seen The Big Lebowski more than once, you've probably quoted it several thousand times. While the Coen Brother's have had a mainstream critically acclaimed hit in Fargo and had even greater popular success with O Brother! Where Art Thou? and its old-timey\roots soundtrack, the film that has found the largest following (bordering on religious for some) is the oddball extravaganza character study that follows the misadventures of The Dude. The following has grown large enough to justify an annual festival devoted to the movie. Started in Louisville, Kentucky, in 2002, Lebowski Fest was founded as a bowling\movie event. The idea being to simply get fans together to watch the film, quote the movie among others who will appreciate the humor, and bowl. What it has evolved into is nothing less than a phenomenon, and perhaps as large as the beginning of a philosophical\spiritual revival based on The Dude's “strikes and gutters,” take-life-as-it-comes attitude, and a kick-ass cultural event to boot.
Obviously You're Not a Golfer
For the uninitiated, it may seem a strange idea to base a festival around a single quirky movie that is less than a decade old. But it's happened before. I remember the midnight showings of Rock Horror Picture Show playing at the local art-house movie theatre, complete with make-up, costumes, and dance routines, that brought out huge crowds every year around Halloween. I could never bring myself to take part, I would be out of my element, but I appreciated the cultural significance of a celebrated following. When Lebowski Fest came around that was the first thing I thought of, that finally I can take part in a celebrated following. I never thought it would get this big, though. Lebowski Fest, in its first four years of existence has expanded to other Fests in New York, LA, Las Vegas, and Austin.
Jeff Bridges, who played The Dude, showed up for Lebowski Fest West in LA.
A Natural, Zesty Enterprise
In Louisville it has become a four-day event with academic roundtable discussions, an art show, and multiple music events, and a cultural institution that the city has embraced. When the fantastic new outdoor amphitheater at Louisville's Waterfront Park was opened it was Lebowski Fest and the headlining My Morning Jacket that was there to open it and show off the new facilities. My Morning Jacket at the time were just on the rise with their first major record, It Still Moves, and the town had come to embrace them as an institution as well, and their performance, aside from being a thrilling experience, was communal bonding on a nearly spiritual level. Even though The Big Lebowski was set in LA, it was a defining moment in Louisville cultural history, a moment at which we could look around and say to each other “yes, this is what we are about and what we want to show off to the world.” Quirky and laid-back, this is Louisville and this is The Big Lebowski, so it's a perfect, if unexpected, fit.
Thank You, Donny.
In the respect that it has become a love-fest for Louisville culture, it is significant that Lebowski Fest continues to embrace local artists. Now that big headlining acts have played the festival (Jon Spencer's Heavy Trash is playing this year) it would easy for the organizers to drop the smaller local groups from the lineup, but they don't. If anything, the local bands have only taken on a greater role in the festival as a new annual tradition is the live broadcast featuring those local bands playing the music from the movie's soundtrack on Louisville's WFPK (listen here). Ultra Pulverize, a band I recently reviewed and interviewed here at iHigh, will play “Puttin' on the Ritz.” Lucky Pineapple will perform “I Am the Walrus” (not actually on the soundtrack but referenced in one of the movie's hundreds of quotable lines). “Hotel California” sung in Spanish (ala The Gypsy Kings' version) is a fan favorite, as is the song from the opening sequence of The Big Lebowski, “Tumblin Tubleweeds.” And just as the turnout for the Fest's main events continues to grow, the crowd that shows up at WFPK for that show has been filling the studio.
Part of the Lebowski Fest West poster. The posters from the events have become collectors items.
In the Parlance of Our Times
Lebowski Fest probably won't be around for decades, the crowds may begin to dwindle as the movie becomes more obscure amongst young people (and moves deeper into cult following territory) and the organizers may eventually grow weary of putting it together. Its hard to believe, but the number of quotes that one movie can provide is finite and eventually the enthusiasts may get tired of repeating the same lines over and over. Then again, the bums haven't lost quite yet. It could go on forever: Lebowski Fest could continue for years to come, introducing the film and its quotables to new generations of Little Lebowski Urban Achievers, creating a never-ending stream of enthusiasts to whom the torch could be passed. I guess thats the way the whole durned human comedy keeps perpetuating itself. What we can be sure of is that it is going to be happening this weekend (September 28-October 1) and it will probably be back next year. Beyond that, well, the Dude abides, man.
Artist: Murs & 9th Wonder Album: Murray's Revenge(2006) Label: Record Collection iH Rating: 7.6 out of 10 RIYL: Living Legends, Little Brother, soul-tinged beats, wit
“most of these rappers trapped in the hype/they makin whole albums only half of its tight/so they never really have an impact on your life”
-“Murs Day”
Murs is a rapper that makes albums that are tight from start to finish.9th Wonder is a DJ that produces tight albums.When they get together good things happen.After the success that was their first collaboration, 3:16 – The 9th Edition, they reunite for Murray’s Revenge a soul-inflected, self- and socially conscious landmark on the hip hop landscape for 2006. Its brief (ten tracks, under 40 minutes, like 3:16before it) but it is complete.
9th Wonder’s production—string arrangements and smooth vocals sampled from 70s soul records—ties the tracks together into a cohesive unit.The songs are also loosely connected via thematic elements of the lyrics.The name of the album and title track is somewhat explained by the very last line of the album, “Success has always been the best form of revenge.” It implies a lifetime of trying to overcome naysayers, ignoring the people that will try to bring you down.“Murray’s Law” more specifically addresses other rappers, “I do feel the music so I kind of respect it/but don’t confuse ill lyrics with real street credit.” The very next track is “Silly Girl,” a take-look-at-me-now shot aimed at the girls who rejected him back in the day when Murs was just Nick Carter. “D.S.W.G. (Dark-Skinned White Girls)” is a delicate love letter to those women of mixed race that have to deal with life on the racial borderline. All three tracks are united by the idea that success has to be achieved despite the haters.
Speaking of which, I've heard people say that Murs doesn't have "smooth flow," but as far as I'm concerned Murs' flow is exempary in its smoothness. It is conversational and easy, he doesn't shove words together, there are no jarring juxtapositions, and most importantly sentence-to-sentence and verse-to-verse each line he spits is related to that which came before and that which will come after it. Is it too much to ask that a rapper have a reason for saying what he does instead of just trying to play the "I'm a bigger badass" game. Murs has narrative intution and that is, I think, the most essential element in having smooth flow. I don't want to hear otherwise.
The first track, “Murs Day,” quoted above, makes it clear that Murs thinks that he has finally achieved a level of success where he can turn around, stick his tongue out, and laugh in the faces of all those people who doubted him.And he’s right. This album is consistent from track to track in its quality and cohesiveness.It is the clear result of the long and arduous career of a very gifted artist, of two very gifted artists really because this album is as much the work of 9th Wonder as it is Murs’.And don’t be confused by its brevity: just like its predecessor the album is succinct but it is also very much complete.But with two great musicians working together like this I would expect nothing less. Murs and 9th Wonder make writing music reviews easy. Consistency will do that.
Peter Arnberg is a contributing editor for iHighMusic.com and a fine-looking man as well. For years he has amazed those who know him with his kazoo-playing and he will soon amaze the world on his debut album from Sick Puppy Records Shmazoo. He lives in Lexington with three plants named Tuco, Blondie, and Angel Eyes.
Track Listing
1. Murs Day 2. Murray's Law 3. Silly Girl (f. Joe Scudda) 4.Barbershop (f. Rapper Big Pooh) 5. Yesterday and Today 6. Dreamchaser 7.L.A. 8.Love and appreciate 9. D.S.W.G (Dark Skinned White Girls) 10. Murray's Revenge
Further Listening
**3:16 The Ninth Edition
Murs: **Good Music(1999) Murs Rules the World (2000) End of the Beginning (2003)
9th Wonder **The Listening(2003) w/Little Brother **Chemistry (2005) w/Buckshot Spirit of 94 (2005) w/Kaze **The Minstrel Show (2006) w/ Little Brother
Artist: Ultra Pulverize Album: Gorillas in the Fist(2006) Label: iH Rating: 7.0 out of 10 RIYL: angry Devo, rollerskating on busy highways
There is a new ride at King's Island in Cincinatti called Delirium, it straps you and 49 others in around a wheel at the base of the swinging arm of a giant pendulum. The pendulum swings and the wheel spins. It's a simple idea, but the effect is delicious. It isn't jarring and doesn't appear as frightening as the big coasters, but it is fast and takes you high and the spinning wheel creates an experience that is completely new and completely delightful. This is exactly the feeling recreated for me when I played Gorrilas in the Fist for the first time, and the second time, and the third. A just under 26 minutes, the debut from Louisville trio Ultra Pulverize is, like a good ride, made for repeated plays. In fact, it can be played at least three times while waiting in line for some of the rides at King's Island, and it can handle many more consecutive plays if need be.
If you want a more specific description I'll give it: poppin' fresh drum machine beats (played by hand, not programmed), ecstatic synth melodies, and grimy, staccato vocals by Ultra (Andrew Vititoe) that deliver the sweet sickness that is the hallmark of an Ultra Pulverize track. Comparisons have been made to Kraftwerk but fuck that. If Kraftwerk's music is anything it is clean and crisp, it float. They use similar instruments but Kraftwerk could never make anything that sounds so... diseased(in a good way, if that makes any sense). The German influence is clear—sometimes Ultra's vocals are eerily similar to speeches of Hitler's from The Triumph of Will and it is just as charming—but a German band could never produce something like this, something so nuanced between elation and spitting blood. Something this fun and twisted is a purely American creation. Though I'm not sure how the hell it came out of Kentucky.
I'm from Louisville and, while the music scene there is bursting with all sorts of sounds, electronic punk(the category into which,technically, this falls) is not one with which I'm familiar, nor would I have had much interest in the genre if I had heard of it. But, in many ways, this band blows my mind.
Take, for instance, “I'm on Wheels,” which in the first few measures sounds like the music that would play over the opening credits to a Footloose sequel but soon, very subtly, develops into a nonsensical but utterly joyous romp in the clouds. For the most part, I can't make much of the lyrics but the gibberish fits the rhyme structure so well that its hard to imagine that these phrases (“hear the noise/keep your poise/remember ultra steamin'/laser skin/hold it in/I'll try to kick the habit”) don't have any business in whatever context Ultra is spewing. The effect is something of a gestalt, something is being communicated that cannot be determined by looking at any of the verses by themselves.
I'm sure this kind of incomprehensible songwriting can turn some people off but, the way I see it, this is exactly how music should work. Ultra Pulverize attacks the senses with senselessness and slip through something more substantial on a different plane. It should be beyond words and the interaction with the listener should be unconscious. As a result, Ultra Pulverize and I get along very well.
Peter Arnberg is a contributing editor for iHighMusic.com and a fine-looking man as well. When not listening, writing, or posting he enjoys laughing out loud. He lives in Lexington, Kentucky, with three plants named Tuco, Blondie, and Angel Eyes.
Track Listing
1. Venom Pants 2. That Book Was Written By A Maniac 3. Bloody Fannypack 4. Gorillas in the Fist 5. I Thought That I Was Dead 6. Ropadoperglittercubin' 7. I'm On Wheels 8. Scissors On Cigarettes 9. Book Fair Monday 10. Don Knotts Looks Like a Sock Puppet 11. Out of Bones 12. Ochweet Scally
Artist: Steve Earle Album:I Feel Alright (1996) Label: Warner Bros.\ WEA iH Rating: 8.2 out of 10 RIYL: redemption stories, midwest roots rock, John Mellencamp, Bruce Springsteen, Del McCoury
For Steve Earle to be feeling alright circa 1996 is a good sign for the rest of us. A life-threatening drug addiction exiled him from music for much of the first half of the nineties. His career, and probably his life, were only saved by a stint in prison that forced him to kick the drug habit and get re-focused on his music. His comeback album Train a Comin was warmly received by fans and critics alike. He followed it up with I Feel Alright less than 18 months later.
You don't have to be familiar with Earle to enjoy him, its easy to tell right away that he is a great songwriter. The title track is a Mellencamp-esque (yeah, I said it, you got a problem with Mellencamp-esque?) foot stomper, that kicks off the album on an upbeat note just as an album called I Feel Alright without tongue in cheek should start. To feel the joy in the man's gravelly voice is to know what it means to survive.
"Hard Core Troubador" is love song for stubborn lovers, the kind that can't keep from screwing it up time and time again and can't resist taking each other back time and time again. It's hard-assed and smart-alecky and it takes no prisoners, just speaks truth. It's about this time that you realize Earle is done with bullshit and sentiment. He's speakign truth no matter how ugly, and most true are the moments when he reflects on his own ugly history. He doesn't hold anything back; apologetic but not regretful he confesses his sins. "Hurtin' Me, Hurtin' You" shows him at his most sorrowful, confessing that a hard price was paid before he realized that his abuses of others have all come back around to him in the end. I believe it, too. He's not asking for anything, he's merely put it all out on the table, perhaps in hopes that it might ease his conscience a little.
This record has a lot of ups and downs, down-and-outs and high-as-the-skys, but it doesn't lack weak spots. At least one track, "The Unrepentant," falls into the truck commercial music category, too trite to feel authentic. But the strong points are really strong. "The Unrepentant" is followed up by "CCKMP" which stands for "Cocaine cannot Kill My Pain" which is a mantra repeated over and over through the song as it winds along a psychedelic horror story path ala "White Light\White Heat." It is the psychological lowpoint that puts the perspective on the exuberant high points.
So many albums, collaborations, and other projects later, Steve Earle is staying clean and continuing to make good music. Its a great story about going to hell and back and coming out so much stronger because of it. Appropriately the album ends with "You're Still Standing There," a delightful duet with Lucinda WIlliams and one of the best tracks on the album. At least, it is the one that works the best outside the context of the album. It is an ode to the lover that sticks through the tough times and comes out on the other side with just as much love in their heart, a thank you note of sorts to all of those people that still believed in Earle even at his lowest. The man has been married seven times, divorced six. He's seen more than his share of fair-weather friends, I'm sure. He surely can't be easy to get along with, especially during the period leading up to I Feel Alright, so its not hard to imagine that the ones who did stick around mean a great deal to him. It's just as easy to believe the sincerity of his voice on tracks like "You're Still Standing There" that so openly bare his insecurities and shortcomings.
Peter Arnberg is a contributing editor for iHighMusic.com and a fine-looking man as well. When not listening, writing, or posting he enjoys laughing out loud. He lives in Lexington, Kentucky, with three plants named Tuco, Blondie, and Angel Eyes.
Track Listing
1. Feel Alright 2. Hard Core Troubador 3. More Than I Can Do 4. Hurtin Me, Hurtin You 5. Now She's Gone 6. Poor Boy 7. Valentine's Day 8. The Unrepentant 9. CCKMP 10. Billy and Bonnie 11. South Nashville Blues 12. You're Still Standin There w\Lucinda Williams
Further Listening
Guitar Town (1986)** Exit 0 (1987) Copperhead Road (1988)** The Hard Way (1990) Shut Up and Die Like an Aviator (1991) Train a Comin (1995)** I Feel Alright (1996)** El Corazon (1997)** The Mountain (1999) Transcendental Blues (2000)** Side Tracks (2002) Jerusalem (2002) Just and American Boy (2003) The Revolution Starts Now (2004)
Artist: The Knife Album: Silent Shout (2006) Label: Rabid\Brille\Mute iH Rating: 7.1 out of 10 RIYL: being mesmerized, Bjork
Silent Shout is my first exposure to The Knife, Swedish siblings Olaf and Karin Dreijer. Apparently they won multiple Grammys for their last album, Deep Cuts. I haven't heard that one, nor do I really care about Grammys, regardless I put Silent Shout on with some expectation while at the same time not knowing what to expect. Something like "I'm told its good but what does Swedish electro-pop sound like?" Well I've heard it now. It's alien but not from too far away, a neighboring star perhaps, one that is fairly familiar with pop tunes on Earth. It is alien, somewhere in the depths of space. Parts were recorded in an old carbon dioxide factory, parts in the vaults beneath the Grand Church in Stockholm. You can't necessarily identify these locales like you can on say TV on the Radio's cover of "Mr. Grieves," which was recorded in a public restroom and sounds like it, but the effect on the recording is in its atmosphere of sinister isolation. Even when both Olaf and Karin sing together on a track (Karin does most of the singing), you have the effect of two strangers with a great distance between them, looking up at the same stars.
The vocals themselves are clean but mangled. Karin's voice gets a makeover between tracks, each performance having its own distinct edge. Karin mostly shouts rather than sings on "We Share Our Mother's Health," an energetic track, that bounces and careens around inside your head with epic style, and her voice is pretty crisp here. But on the slower, moodier "Forest Families" she is muffled some, and on "Still Light" both her and Olaf's voices are pulled and stretched out. The differences aren't crazy, it doesn't sound like a new robot singing each new song. Rather, the voices are manipulated to better fit the mood of each track, while maintaining familiarity. Its more like the same robot is being slightly reprogrammed to a different mode of expression between each track. Its a good thing, really. The vocal performances are undoubtedly the most striking feature of their sound.
What's more, the siblings Dreijer can write songs well. Take this verse from "Forest Families":
I saw her by the organ She was laughing while pressing the keys She said my favorite book was dirty And "you should not show you can read"
Every one of the songs, like this one, has me perplexed (in a good way) and seeking the meaning, poring over the lyrics and liner notes. Its refreshing to see that in electronic music from someone other than Bjork.
"Refreshing" is the word that should be printed on stickers and plastered all over the plastic wrapping of each copy of Silent Shout, it brings new life to synthesizers and to the idea of electronic music. Prior to this I always assumed that in order to make anything worth listening to (rather than dancing to) an electronic artist would have to compromise and dip into the resources of another style. The Knife didn't have to compromise and they accomplished something altogether new and beautiful.
Peter Arnberg is a contributing editor for iHighMusic.com and a fine-looking man as well. When not listening, writing, or posting he enjoys laughing out loud. He lives in Lexington, Kentucky, with three plants named Tuco, Blondie, and Angel Eyes.
Track Listing
1. Silent Shout 2. Neverland 3. The Captain 4. We Share Our Mother's Health 5. Na Na Na 6. Marble House 7. Like a Pen 8. From Off to On 9. Forest Families 10. One Hit 11. Still Light
Further Listening
The Knife (2001) Deep Cuts (2003)** Gender Bender EP (2004) When I Found the Knife [DVD] (2005)
Artist: The Roots Album:Game Theory (2006) Label: Def Jam iH Rating: 8.7 out of 10 RIYL: Philly hip hop soul music, Common, Jay Dee
Game theory, it is a branch of mathematics that studies the possible outcomes of strategic action in order to maximize returns. Simply put, it is an analytical approach to game situations. It is applied to a wide variety of strategical planning from war to economic policies to tic-tac-toe. It was the thematic subject of the Matthew Broderick classic War Games, and it is the title of the new album by The Roots.
The overt reference is to the current international situation, more specifically the United States' role in world politics. The album takes a critical look at the Bush administration and its policies abroad and at home. The Roots have never been shy of socio-political argument, it was the backbone of their masterpiece Things Fall Apart and they have often taken up one cause or another outside of their music. Honestly it comes as no surprise to me that they would go in this direction. What surprises me is how well the “game theory” device works in relation to other issues hanging over the album.
One corrolary to game theory is that self-serving actually generally makes things worse for everyone, that maximal returns are often the result of a collaborative effort. This certainly rings true for Malik B, who makes his return to Roots recordings on this album after a five year separation from the band. He was apparently booted from the lineup after Things Fall Apart because of a self-destructive drug habit. Black Thought later tried to mend the relationship and convince Malik to get clean with “Water” on Phrenology. The song was a tearjerker and it apparently worked because Malik is back, albeit not as an official member of the group, appearing as a guest on three tracks on Game Theory. The first of these is the title track, a throwback track to simpler, straight-up hip hop production. Malik doesn't seem to have missed a beat in his time off, he compliments Black Thought's as well as he did on Do You Want More!?!! with a single verse on the end of the song. Its placed in such a way that it might slip by if you aren't paying attention, there isn't any great fanfare paid to Malik in light of his return. But that's almost a tribute in itself, as his voice sounds at home on all three tracks. He spits his best verses on “In the Music,” a darkly moody song with a Night Rider-type frenetic beat akin to “Don't Say Nuthin” from 2004's The Tipping Point. (Dice Raw, another favorite Roots collaborator, also adds his voice, giving what is probably the album's best performance on “Here I Come.”)
The Roots have a band mentality. They are not the usual hip hop group. They play instruments and put as much, if not more, emphasis on the music than on the rapping. They don't use a traditional DJ either. The closest they've come to two turntables is the vocal DJ, Scratch, who beatboxed in a style that reproduced the effects of a turntable. There was also Rahzel (who could forget?), aka the Godfather of Noyze. But the idea is that they are a hip hop band, one that plays collaboratively and not one on top of the other. When a member of the group partakes in self-destructive behavior, such as Malik's drug problem, it hurts the whole group. It goes back to game theory here. Self-serving actions are bad for everyone; the interest of whole is best served by collaborative effort. It very elegantly sums up their plight.
I used to want to compare Roots albums. But now, eight albums deep, I realize just how much each one is marked with a unique aesthetic that can't be translated from one to the other. Like most artists who record albums numbering nearly double digits (they are already in the studio at work on the ninth album), the Roots have had the time and space to branch out and try new things. They've been able to experiment with their music, in the studio and live in concert, and one misstep every now and then should be forgiven for the sake of the successes. In the past, the Roots have been preachy at times and pretentious at others. They've learned to minimize that. They've learned to focus their sound for the purposes of each unique album and the corresponding concept. Game Theory makes evident this evolutionary process with its precise sound and consistent style, along with the subtle points at which the Roots are drawing on some of their older ideas and adapting them to the new context. It is an illustration of mastery and skillful manipulation.
Fittingly, Game Theory's final track is dedicated to a man that not only had mastered his field and could manipulate hip hop music to his whim, but also had become one of the most selfless individuals hip hop has ever known. J. Dilla produced the beat for “Can't Stop This” for his own album Donuts shortly before his death in February. Even though Dilla was head and shoulders above the rest of the hip hop world in terms of production technique and abilities, and could have gone Kanye's way as a double threat DJ-MC, he preferred to be able to work with his friends and favorite artists on collaborations. The result of these labours of love is a huge catalogue of work that is second to none in terms of quality and range. And so, it once again comes back to game theory and the idea of collaborative effort for maximal return. In the case of Game Theory, collaborative effort did indeed lead to maximal return, so many voices are lent to this production and the end result is another bullet on The Roots discography. A very good bullet.
Peter Arnberg is a contributing editor for iHighMusic.com and a fine-looking man as well. When not listening, writing, or posting he enjoys laughing out loud. He lives in Lexington, Kentucky, with three plants named Tuco, Blondie, and Angel Eyes.
Track Listing
1. Dilltastic Vol Won(derful) 2. False Media 3. Game Theory 4. Don't Feel Right 5. In the Music 6. Take it There 7. Baby 8. Here I Come 9. Long Time 10. Livin in a New World 11. Clock with No Hands 12. Atonement 13. Can't Stop This
Further Listening
Organix (1993) Do You Want More?!!!??! (1995)** Illadelph Halflife (1996)** Things Fall Apart (1999)** The Roots Come Alive (1999) Phrenology (2002)** The Tipping Point (2004) Game Theory (2006)**
Artist: The Walkmen Album: A Hundred Miles Off(2006) Label: Record Collection iH Rating: 6.0 out of 10 RIYL: The Replacements, Built to Spill
I'm not quite sure what to make of this album, I'm also not sure I like it. Perhaps my confusion stems from the deception of the opener, “Louisiana,” which is sweet and supple and has a touch of the magic sincerity that the Walkmen seem only occasionally capable of delivering. It is inviting and hints at a scenic route ahead. When Hamilton Leithauser wails “Come go away with me,” you are packing your bags and getting ready to go. When you are finally stuffed into the back seat, a ceremonious cadre of trumpets sends you off with seemingly appropriate regalia. And you are off. But instead of the new and unfamiliar jungle island you are expecting, the scenery becomes eerily familiar. Then you are suddenly dropped in the parking lot of a New York studio watching the band grind its way through eleven more songs.
Don't get me wrong, the album is not bad. There are yet some bright spots to be found and enjoyed but their luster is weak and dim compared to the vision put in your head by the first track. You can hear the promise. You know there is potential. But a dusty glass ball is dropped in your lap instead of the priceless, sparkling gem you had thought you were getting. So much is accomplished by “Louisiana” that it is hard to not be disenchanted by what follows. “Danny's at the Wedding is the same familiar droning of Leithauser's vocal over the same familiar ringing guitars that you've heard from The Walkmen again and again.
I like texture and I like what they do, but it sucks to be led so astray by the first track. Who sequenced this? What malicious, sadistic mother f---- put such a lovely atmospheric song at the start of an album that does not breathe the same air. “Good for You's Good for Me” should have the opiate-like effect of “My Old Man” or “Hang on, Siobhan” but the taste is not the same.
Honestly, Bows + Arrows was a favorite of mine. I was excited for this album but now I find it hard to listen to either of them. I'm sorry to rant like this but it is simply poor execution. And it isn't just that one thing. You get another hint of something different on “Lost in Boston” when drummer Matt Barrick finally gets to show off for a second. Known for his incredible stage presence and raucous style, he is restrained on studio albums, making only a few lasting impressions (see: “The Rat”). But on this track he is unleashed, if only for a minute. Add to that a bass line that will bruise you and grope your girlfriend and you've got the makings of a great song. But by the time you get to that the song has already been cheapened by the uncharacteristically boring and trite lyrics. “Lost in Boston/drinking rum and chocolate/a hundred thousand blinking lights/ making me exhausted?” Quwha? “This night has lived too long,” huh? First of all where are the Walkmen? Who are these sad sacks that replaced them? Granted they've done their fair share of moaning and groaning, but it is usually a little more hostile, a little more angry, and simply better-written than “Mini skirts and high-heeeled shoes/raining mud on shiny suits.” That says nothing. Its not even that good an image, and it certainly doesn't deserve the energy and boldness of the instrumentation on this track. I've got no time for this mess of mediocrity.
And you have to wonder at this point if they are doing it on purpose. They give you “Tenley Town,” which is the toughest song they've done, wild and whiplash-inducing it is a far cry from the usual hypnotic-anthemic that defines their sound. Even on something like “The Rat” which rocks pretty hard they don't get as wonderfully out of control as they let themselves do here. Which is nice, because they sound like they are finally having some fun. But it is alone here, it is thrown into a pile with songs it should not be hanging around with. So you have to wonder, why? Are they trying to frustrate me? Is it some kind of ironic statement. Disappointment and frustration are often subjects of their songs, maybe they want to inflict so of that pain on the listener to “enhance” the experience. I don't know.
What I do know is that “Louisiana” is one of the best songs of the year (like “The Rat” and “We've Been Had” before it, they have a knack for delivering something amazing at least once per album) but it sets a tone for the album that is both overambitious and inappropriate. “Louisiana” is an elegiac and delicately nostalgic masterpiece, what follows is not. There seems to be no concern for continuity, no concern for the album as a whole. They give you songs and that is it. Just songs. Some good songs to be sure but those only make the failures of the album all the more difficult to swallow.
Peter Arnberg is a contributing editor for iHighMusic.com and a fine-looking man as well. For years he has amazed those who know him with his kazoo-playing and he will soon amaze the world on his debut album from Shampooer Records, Shmazoo. He lives in Lexington with three plants named Tuco, Blondie, and Angel Eyes.
Track Listing
1. Louisiana 2. Danny's At The Wedding 3. Good For You's Good For Me 4. Emma, Get Me A Lemon 5. All Hands And The Cook 6. Lost In Boston 7. Don't Get Me Down (Come On Over Here) 8. Tenley Town 9. This Job Is Killing Me 10. Brandy Alexander 11. Always After You ('Til You Started After Me) 12. Another One Goes By
Further Listening
Everyone Who Pretended to Like Me is Gone (2002)
**Bows+Arrows (2004)
** = Recommended
Design Samples
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