kung

Not to actually rape the dead horse I've just beaten but in the context of Mermaid Ave. can you actually imagine the family of Woody Guthrie entrusting the String Cheese Incident with his lyrics trusting that they'd do right by it. Now that truly is a laughable thought.

This thread sort of went weird like usual. Of course I was stirring the pot, it was also a bit of a pun because I think both sets occured on the 'which' stage or the 'what'. Ahhhhh get it. But of course there was something implied and here's the dead horse I see myself beating. What this scene doesn't get is why the rest of the music loving world deplores what they revolve their lives around. I mean a Cheesehead can love Wilco too but a Wilco fan can't really go for the Cheese if you know what I mean at least in principle. Partly it's because if you identify with an alt-country subculture then the idea of writhing around in mud with a bunch of wooks is anthema to you. It also has to do with whether you identify with the drug subculture that overlaps with the jam culture that is at the core of it too. I think I'm right on some level about how respect from your musician peers is an esteemed thing and not something bestowed lightly. History will remember certain bands and forget others it's up to you to decide which. This is all to say that it matters that the music you identify as 'historic' plays into your self identity and anything outside of that circle of righteousness is at very least foreign to you and must be. We define ourselves by what we identify with and what we don't identify with. So many styles of music folk, rock, hip hop are in a lot of ways about not identifying with the dominant culture. The dominant culture oddly enough in our scene is bands like The Dead, Phish and increasingly SCI as well as their apparatchiks. Now here's the rub- what seems to us like wildly inventive, creative, striving, thriving music seems to most like so much masturbation. Now here's the real rub- if folk music is the music of The Folk then the Cheese are in many ways the current ambassadors even the inheritors of the folk tradition. They resemble though something more like the Kingston Trio, the watered down petered out styling of a commercial phenomena. But if folk music means a music based on authenticity, based on the appalachian values of people whose land was sold out from underneath them to shylocks and hustlers, more importantly a music of revolt and protest against the injustices of the world fraught as it is with peril and the prospect of greatness then truly Wilco are the new ambassadors of folk. The fact that they use all manner of studio trickery and electronic wizardry should matter as much as Dylan's electric guitar- particularly if that music is a music of self-mythologizing of making the old new- the music of creative destruction.

Oh great Peacemaker why have I forsaken you. Lighten up beats seriously. We all know that my hatred of the Cheese (which is itself ironic because they and they're fanbase seem so utterly incapable of hate but more in a brainwashed Brian Jones Massacre kind of way- pass the koolaid yum!) runs deep so take it or leave it. There were very few setlists up for Bonnaroo and Wilco and Cheese were two of them seeing as this dialogue had come up in light of Lollapalooza I put it out there as a lark. Clearly from the superlatives being used to describe Wilco I am not alone. But just so we're absolutely fucking clear it is an embarassment that the String Cheese Incident are closing Lollapalooza rather than say the Flaming Lips or Wilco. Perhaps the members of the cheese are so deluded as to think they have earned this slot but I suspect not. If I was a musician I would DIE to write ONE SONG as good as Jeff Tweedy or Wayne Coyne. ONE FUCKING SONG. Not only will Kyle or Kang or Billy NEVER write a song that good they must somewhere not so deep down know this. Can you imagine the backstage area?

Billy: 'Yo Jeff I loooove the new album and whoa did I ever love that documentary (I Am Trying To Break Your Heart)'

Jeff: 'Ugh thanks dude'

Billy:'No really I love that tune Jesus Etc., and that collaboration with Billy Bragg (Mermaid Ave.) especially California Stars.'

Jeff: 'Yeah that was fun.'

Billy: 'So have you seen our set?'

Jeff: 'Uh no to be honest we just kind of split to the hotel after our gig but I've heard you guys are ughhh good'

Billy: 'Whoa thanks that means a lot coming from you'

Jeff: 'Well see you in Detroit then'

So the reason I am so forceful about my view is that there is a great cosmic injustice being perpetrated when people are forced to believe that in some way SCI is superior to any of these worthy and memorable bands that history will remember for years to come. Not to mention in these parts there aren't exactly a lot of people willing to look honestly at their taste in the cheese and say 'hey you know what this is kind of embarassing when you think about it- what the fuck are these songs about anyways?'

That was some eloquent shit Del. So what's the difference between slagging the Cheese and say Jungle (which is clearly a far superior form of music than fucking Gabber)? The thing with me and the Cheese is not just this personal beef it's not that at all- they're the Scientology of Jam Music, the Banya of jam music, they prey off the mansy pansy ethic of their audience and offer little of substance in return. That's really what I'm talking about SUBSTANCE- I've always said I'm sure I'll love the jam and the scene and dance my ass off when I see them but I will feel very dirty and hella stupid afterward that is for sure.

That's right three HUGE HUGE HUGE Shainhouse acts. Get your popcorn, peanuts, glow rings here. See the magnificent Trustafarian and his pet Wookie, marvel at the wonders of the giant Glass Bong, feast your eyes on the Heady One himself.

They both appeared on the same day at Bonnaroo hence the basis for comparison- coincidental really. I think there was a bit of a thread about Wilco and the Cheese the other day hence the further comparison. I'm just curious how far the cheeseheads can get their heads up there asses before they can actually see out their eyeballs and wake up to the light of day.

Embarassed to say I haven't heard A Ghost Is Born though but here's the track listing:

At Least That's What You Said 5:35

Hell Is Chrome

4:40

Spiders (Kidsmoke) 10:48

Muzzle Of Bees 4:58

Hummingbird 3:13

Handshake Drugs 6:09

Wishful Thinking 4:43

Company In My Back 3:48

I'm A Wheel 2:39

Theologians 3:38

Less Than You Think 15:06

The Late Greats 2:30

I have heard Handshake Drugs though and both musically and thematically I think people will relate to this song.

Oh I am so with you Roller I fucking hated both Kill Bill and even more so Vol. II. It came across like exactly what it is (and I would know)- an overeducated geek throwing as many filmic motifs into a movie that couldn't possible gather around itself what it protested to all building up to a completely forgettable conclusion. Not to mention David Carradine is possibly the most annoying human being on the planet (except in that Woody Guthrie movie This Train Is Bound For Glory- he's good in that). What a shocker ending though you mean to tell me she gave him the five point palm exploding heart thingy- whowouldathunk it. Fucking dick Tarantino. AND WHAT IN ALL SAM HELL GETUP WAS THAT FUCKING 'THE LIONESS RETURNS TO HER CUB' BUSINESS!!! Just that ending is enough to make me hate Tarantino for all time- he should film the String Cheese equivalent of the Last Waltz and have Perry Farrell prance around and then the whole stage should blow up in some totally dramatic way.

Oh right I forgot you all shat your brains out after the last bong load. Just one song like Jesus Etc. (one of the best songs to be written in the last five years imo) blows that cheddar (I mean aerosol cheese) set out of the water. Funny I seem to remember the entire world lining up at Wilco's doorstep to kiss their ass after Yankee Hotel Foxtrot came out I can't say I recall the same thing about Untying The Knot. Oh yeah right even their most committed fans thought that blew fucking goats. Rollover and take that one up the hooper.

Friday June 11th, 2004 >> Wilco

1. The Late Greats

2. I Am Trying To Break Your Heart

3. Hummingbird

4. At Least That's What You Said

5. Jesus Etc.

6. War on War, Shot In The Arm

7. Muzzle of Bees

8. Company In My Back

9. I'm The Man Who Loves You

10. Theologians

11. Poor Places

12. I'm Always In Love

13. One By One

14. I'm A Wheel

15. Handshake Drugs

16. Spiders (Kidsmoke)

Friday June 11th, 2004 >> String Cheese Incident

1. Dudley's Kitchen >

2. Desert Dawn

3. Lost >

4. Mouna Bowa

5. Sirens

6. One Step Closer

7.Way Back Home

8. Joyful Sound>

9. Valley Of The Jig

10. Outside Inside >

11. Give it Away >

12. Rollover

Encores

13. Good Times Around the Bend

14. Texas

Guess Which is Which (or What)?

I want to hear someone confirm or deny the J Lo craps herself story. This thread is so last week.

I thought I had posted about that here a while back. There's also another story about J Lo poohing herself on stage that I have yet to see confirmed such as this.

Yep.

mojito!!!

I'll add eminently to that list as in: Leslie Feist is eminently delectable.

(don't think i'm making it to the show tonite unfortunatemant- drive in in Tweed to see Harry Potter instead oddly enough- she's touring this album- which really is quite quite good-- so I hope to see her in a town near me and you)

Be careful kids this sounds dicey (obviously). If the deposits haven't been payed by now they aren't likely to be or they are at the point of no return and it's a moot point. I would not count on seeing Derek Trucks there or any of the bigger names, they only have so long to scramble and pick up another date and once they have it's a done deal.

(And how 'bout making the link colour something more noticeably different than the text there boochies)

I've had a major crush on Leslie Feist since well before she was the diva behind the Broken Social Scene. Her album Monarch is a gem as is the new one Let It Die. I wouldn't be surprised if a few scenester friends turned out to help her along. Still not sure if it's feasible for us to get into the city for the show tonight but if you're in town this will be a must see.

Feist

So here's a novel idea how about sharing what the rumours are and why anyone would believe them.

Do you mean 5:30 in the morning? Whoaaa brah.

Yahoo should get their asses sued for this shit. The Kaufman thing I actually appreciated but this is lame.

Also this (fucking hoaxster dicks- we're just as bad for spreading this shit):

quote:

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Originally posted by Brian Damage

I hope it is a hoax, that would be awful.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

No need to hope. It is. Look at the original site it belongs too.

http://24.46.68.186:40

Yahoo news stories start out as http://news.yahoo anyway.

And there isn't one other article online that tells of Rick dying.

That piece you posted is from Yahoo the kings of perpetuating bad news. This link while not that trustworthy has a comment from someone from the town of Chehalis Washington who says he definitely did not die and that the hospital mentioned in the article doesn't even exist.

Hoax?

I'm pretty sure it is a hoax. I believed it right off and then did a bit of research and there are holes in the story... More to follow. Sad if it's true but I'm thinking not.

I'm pretty sure people are coming out, it would be a sin if they didn't that's for sure.

Man, I hate music. It's been nothing but trouble since Judas picked up his first jew's-harp and sang campfire songs. Music is offensive if for no other reason than it makes assholes rich. And I don't just mean the obvious choices like nü-metal or hip hop, I mean ALL music. Klezmer, Delta blues, country, electroclash, whatever, it's all just so terribly wrong. But perhaps it's excessive to blame the music for the obvious moral faults of an industry so deeply corrupt and dishonest that it makes the Republican Party look like the Wobblies. To be less Dennis Miller-ish about it: Of course it's not the music, it's the people. The people who make it, perform it, produce it, sell it, promote it, introduce it, etc., etc. I mean, music is the one form of art that, above all others, people get "into" because they want to get laid. How fraudulent is that? I have to listen to some "boohoo, no one understands me" bullshit through the filter of some nerd's hard-on? No thank you. Which leads me to the following conclusion: There is only one pure type of music, and that is the sweet, sweet music that comes from a Drum Circle. No one of any worth has fucked somebody because he was an awesome drum circler. Nope, drum circles are monotonous, tragic, and full of pretend-primitive significance. Nearly all decent, logical people don't like them, and best of all there is no money to be made from them. Perfect! Plus, you really have to go out of your way to hear one. That's the true beauty of it. It will never be playing in the background at the super-duper market, or at your mom's third wedding. To find a drum circle, you usually have to go to some Godforsaken, sun-scarred, desert-y land, or deep into the woods where filthy, well-meaning, but impractical and deluded hippies run around pretending that electricity sucks. This is where I ended up when I went to talk to one of the better-known drum circlers in North America. He goes by the moniker "Half-Moon" (his real name is Geoff Hamm), and he lives in a 1998 Toyota Tercel behind a Hardee's in Yellow Knife, Canada. As I was heading out, I started to enjoy a sense of optimism that had eluded me since Kennedy was shot (shortly before I was born). Maybe music wasn't all so bad.

After driving through various hobbit-manned checkpoints, I met up with Half-Moon at the biannual Drum and Drang Beat Off Festival, which this season was held in Coos Bay, Ore. When I arrived, he was wrapping up a three-hour-long warm-up session of drum circling with the Secret Seed Sower Singers, a group of 20-odd white folks who travel up and down the Pacific Northwest covertly planting hemp in the small gardens of elderly people. I approached Half-Moon and told him who I was and what my purpose was. He seemed a little taken aback at first and asked how I knew of him. I told him that I had Googled "drum circle" and his name had come up. He didn't recognize the term "Googled" and I had to explain to him what it was and how it worked on the computer. I then had to explain what a computer was and what it did. When my cell phone rang he looked at me as if it were the Dark Ages and I had just produced an industrial-sized flashlight. He sniffed and started to back away, frightened. I began to move toward him when he started wildly banging on his drum and baying loudly. A crowd quickly gathered and shook flaming sticks at me, uttering some guttural language I still can't place. I immediately understood what had happened. I had blown it. I had broken the first rule of journalism: Never approach a hippie with anything that has a microchip in it. Alas, I was dejected and hurt. I had traveled a long way to a place that, while stunningly beautiful, was filled with people who seemed to be put on this green Earth just to toy with my feelings. I vowed then and there that I would never give another drum circle the time of day. The whole trip was a waste of time. Oh, wait. I just remembered! I was able to free Mumia by purchasing a bumper sticker, so that's one thing I guess. But I still hate music.

-David Cross

sfweekly.com | originally published: December 31, 2003