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#but the band itself always had a lot of pop sensibilities which often felt as though they were being pushed into them.
gentleoverdrive · 1 year
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[4/300] It makes me sad most of the time.
My wife is fast asleep, so I am going to let you in on a little secret, dear reader: You see, my wife? I love her. She literally saved me from falling into irreparable despair and burnout, and for that, she will have my eternal loyalty, both as a life-partner, as a lover, as a husband, as a friend, you name it. ---- I want you all to know this because, despite what I've written about in the past or what I will write about in the future, I am, indeed, a most fortunate man, and I genuinely, un-ironically and unconditionally love my wife with everything I have. She is my girlboss and i am her malewife. I tell you this as a secret because I know for a fact that, just like my daughter, she's not all that fond of social media, so it's unlikely that she'll ever read this, but I want YOU to know. ---- I want you to know that I, a rando on the internet you may have at some point interacted with. is indeed non-ironically blessed to be married to the woman whom with I shared three of the craziest years this period of history has decided to throw at us. And if I ever came to that same crossroads, I would, no bullshit, pick you again as my life partner. I love you. ---- And to my secret keeper(s)? Thank you so much for reading, I'll read you later. alligator!
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fuckyeahevanrwood · 7 years
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Rebel and a Basket Case
Evan Rachel Wood, known for her leading role as a heroine and oldest host in the HBO Original series Westworld, as well as her roles in films Thirteen, The Wrestler, TV series True Blood and the mini series Mildred Pearce.  Her covetable award-winning catalog of acting roles barely highlights her deep rooted musical background she evolved at a very young age.
We get a squint of her prolific vocal talent as the star of the 2007 musical film ‘Across the Universe‘ as she covers 1960’s  Beatles songs.  
Fast forward to 2017; Evan and Zach chat with novelist Laura Albert about the inspiration for their debut album and the journey of writing songs whilst juggling an intense acting career.
Rebel and a Basket Case an edgy, 80’s inspired electro –pop duo who are reclaiming inspirational moments from their teenage music icons, The Breakfast club, Karaoke and verve for all that is a unicorn world.
Interview by Laura Albert
Laura: I very much love Westworld. Has the unfurling story which seems a constant peeling back of identity, seeped into your musical world?
Evan: Zach and I wrote a lot of the album while I was in production and while we were on a short hiatus. Playing that character definitely gave me a new found strength that trickled over into our music I’m sure. So many themes on the record have to do with overcoming oppressive situations and West World is very much the same.
Laura: Your music has an uplifting message — it understands suffering but offers support to lift others out of darkness. It brings to mind a quote from my mentor David Milch, “You know, people say that my writing is dark. And for me it’s quite the opposite. It sees light in darkness and it doesn’t try to distort darkness. The essential thing is that the seeing itself is joyful.” It seems like you share this philosophy – would be great to hear both your thoughts.
Zach: Yep. I’m all about being present in the journey. One of the greatest life lessons I’ve ever learned is that you “can learn just as much from a ‘bad’ experience, as you can a ‘good’ experience.” So either way, you are balancing the scales and moving “forward” more than anything. That is cumulative. That’s unstoppable. And growth is independent of how enjoyable a particular life challenge or experience is. So, I think we capture that in our music. There is always pain and hardship that comes along (eventually) in tandem with the greatest joy. That’s the spice of life. We all want to be happy. But those moments when we are not or challenged is when we learn the most about ourselves…and carry that knowledge forward allowing us to enjoy our happy moments all more the deeply.
Evan: A lot of the lyrics that I pulled out of my arsenal came from a time when I was suffering, heartbroken, oppressed, misunderstood, and generally teetering on madness. The fact that I made it out and feel like a better person for it taught me a lot. Especially because my work in film is usually really heavy and dramatic I felt I would drain myself if the music I made was similar. I wanted our songs and lyrics to acknowledge the struggle but also say, “Hey, you aren’t alone and it’s going to be ok. You will survive.” Making uplifting and empowering music can sometimes be more challenging. Just like it’s easier to take an insult rather than a compliment. I think especially where we are in the world right now, people know things are hard, people know things are bad, I feel like we need to be reminded that we can overcome.
Laura: You were brought together collaborating on music, can you tell us more about that, and how you both felt it was a fit worth exploring.
Zach: Originally, this tune I had written sounded pretty lame with my vocals in the lead…enter Evan. She has an amazing gift both as a vocalist, and as a writer, which I discovered later. Her talent was apparent, but when it seemed like our collaboration gave her a stage to fully explore the writer inside of her, I happy obliged. That she feels comfortable with me in that regard is an honor, and a pleasure. Her turn of word never ceases to amaze me, and opened me up musically to explore different territory. It’s incredible to work with her, see how her mind works, and see the connections she makes to music emotionally. And her explosiveness and dynamic ability as a performer is hard to rival. Which is lovely, because I have looked a long time for someone who can give me a run for my money in the performative arena. I think we push each other, and complement each other equally. That’s why it works.
Evan: Music was always my first love. I held it in such high regard and it was so precious to me I couldn’t even bring myself to put my own out in the world because I wanted it to be perfect. Linda Perry heard me sing, reached out to me and became a sort of mentor. She gave me that little push I needed and the confidence to just start, it didn’t have to be perfect. Once that door was open I started working with Zach on this play we did together and we started talking about music. We not only had great chemistry but it seemed like we had the same vision for what we wanted to achieve, not just musically but the general concept. We both loved androgyny, glam rock, and were born in the 80’s raised in the 90’s so we have a lot of the same influences stylistically. Zach was the first person I felt comfortable enough with to be vulnerable and share my writing and melodies. He was really patient and nurturing and it felt safe. Once those barriers were down it was like we couldn’t stop making music, it flowed so freely and naturally. Zach is incredible with the little details and he can hear things I just don’t. He is also the hook master!
Laura: I dig how your band name is taken from the stereotype-labels from John Hughes’ Breakfast Club — there is a power in taking on a label and owning it. When I was a kid, my mom taught be about the Chinese finger puzzle, a straw tube you put your fingers into. If you try to pull your fingers out, it tightens around your fingers. The only way out is in: when you press your finger deeper inside, then it magically opens. As  public figures, so many tags or typecasting can get thrust on you. But you are both freely exploring a variety genres, but ultimately it feels like you are inviting the audience to go deeper than the label or category — and by doing so, you can follow any rule want. Do you feel free to explore any genre of music with Rebel?
Evan: I feel like we have so many influences and what I love about our first record is that it all fits together but it shows a vast range. We were exploring and finding different parts of ourselves musically as a band and I think that reflects in a cool way on this album. I also think you need to keep reinventing yourself as an artist because as people we don’t stay the same, we grow and evolve so that can’t help but be mirrored in what you create. I am hoping we are able to show many sides of who we are as artists while keeping the integrity of our vibe and mission.
Zach: With Ev on this one. As a writer, I am fairly disrespectful of any kind of genre restrictions. Of course things need to sound cohesive, and we definitely have an aesthetic as RB&C but, rules are made to be broken. And music in this era we are in is so fluid. Which mirrors what we are seeing movement wise as a culture. With structure comes freedom. No fear to explore.
Laura: Zach, it’s awesome how varied your creative outlets have been, did anyone every try to dissuade you from being so expansive in your artistic endeavors or outlets? Zach did you always know you wanted to make music?
Zach: Yes. Pretty much a LOT of people tried to dissuade me. They all had the best intentions, thinking that they were doing me a favor in their advice to streamline my energies… that I would be more focused on one thing, give move to just acting or dancing etc, and clear the field and my calendar. Unfortunately, that often backfires in modern society, and gone are the days of the Greeks, Romans, and MGM Pictures when we encouraged artists (and people) to be well-rounded ; confident that the X-training in experience would yield more interesting and varied results. So, in short I told those individuals thanks but no thanks. I wouldn’t be the musician I am today without the extensive background I have in dance, acting etc. They all feed one another.
Laura: How do you form your fashion sensibilities? They seem very playful.
Zach: I like clothes that elevate an aesthetic. That allows me to feel like I can transcend the norm and connect to something ethereal. Like lights and glitter. Evan?
Evan: I always view my alter ego ‘Basket case’ as just a heightened version of myself. Like when you go to burning man and you are allowed to create whatever character you want that would normally raise a few eyebrows on the streets. Thats why music and rock n roll have always been so alluring to me, it represented full expression and freedom. We also want it to reflect our message which is ‘be loud and proud and who you are and have fun doing it!
Laura: What are your tour plans? Your music has a cinematic edge to it, would you be interested in  creating soundtracks for films together?
Zach: We are playing regionally as much as possible and focusing on our unicorns on the West Coast. We are playing a Pride fest in Chicago and Oslo in June. Soundtracks for films? Absolutely….. lock me in a room with synth pads and a picture with lots of coffee any day.
Evan: I am actually directing my first film this spring so you might hear a couple of new tunes from R&BC in there.
Laura: Evan, when I became a parent, a fierce new kind of advocacy blossomed in me – I needed to protect and advocate for this child, and I would do what ever that required. With the art I created right after my son was born, I felt a not-dissimilar form of advocacy that was new in me. Not just for my art, but the idea of this child going through any of what I had experienced — sexual and physical abuse — chilled me to my core. I knew I could not shield him from suffering, but I felt that, by giving a voice to what had happened, by telling and raising awareness, I could perhaps make the world safer for him.  Did you experience anything like that?
Evan: Absolutely. I feel like it is my duty as a person and as a mother to be honest about my journey to help people on theirs. I hope I can set a good example for my son in that way. There is no shame.
Laura: Film acting reminds me of writing, in that there is no direct contact with the audience at the moment of creation. What I loved about making music was feeling locked in with an outside energy and not being alone, feeling that there could be a transmigration of spirit. When you sing, there is a sense that you are going to the depth of your being to bring connected emotion into being. Do you feel that music allows for more of felt or immediate shared sense of experience than your acting does?
Evan: Yes, it’s like doing theatre you get an immediate response from the audience. No matter how many times you rehearse, the second you are confronted by your audience everything changes, you feed off of their energy and go to another place. You lift each other up and the connection is palpable and immediate. Seeing people dance and sing to something that came from your soul which in many ways is your soul, there are no words to describe it. Feeling like you are raising people’s spirits and turning something painful into something joyous is why I do it.
Laura: From your tweets to your interviews, it seems you are inviting others to move out of where they might be stuck, to come alive in their compassion, to move past an illusion of isolation of self. Do you think of directing and writing as other tools for you to take problems of our soul and spirit and transform them into issues of craft, so that others might care about what they did not care about before?
Evan: All the art I make is to release my feelings and express myself in ways I can’t otherwise. It’s why I call myself an artist because it’s just something I have to do in some way or another to survive. It’s like air to me. I don’t know what I would without it. If by doing that and being honest wakes people up and makes them view themselves and the world in a way they hadn’t before, if breaks down walls and opens up doors then I have done my job well.
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omgpengwens · 6 years
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Part 1 of the Hyper Japan 2018 review! Good day everyone! It is that time of year again where we celebrate the Summer Hyper Japan festival!
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tune-collective · 7 years
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Aimee Mann Finds 'Mental' Health Returning to a Quieter Solo Career
Aimee Mann Finds 'Mental' Health Returning to a Quieter Solo Career
The singer-songwriter released her ninth studio album, ‘Mental Illness,’ on March 31.
Sometimes you finally have to gravitate back toward what Irving Berlin called “doin’ what comes natur’lly” — and in Aimee Mann’s case, what comes naturally is slower and somberer. “I gave myself permission to make a record that was everything I imagine people think I am… super depressing and bordering on mentally ill,” she says, referring to a new album that is titled, with tongue-in-cheek probity, Mental Illness.
For anyone attuned strictly to the contemporary hits world, the album — which dropped Friday (March 31) — may come off as the downer sardonically promised, but most Mann fans will have an ironically ebullient response to the drift toward an exquisite minimalism in her first album in five years. During her time away from the solo limelight, she worked with Ted Leo on the duo project The Both, which didn’t do anything to diminish the cult she had built — as evidenced by the number of shows already sold out on a spring tour that begins April 20 at Washington, D.C.’s Lincoln Theatre and wraps up May 13 at L.A.’s Theatre at Ace Hotel.
Talking with Billboard, Mann touched on why she has momentarily abandoned rocking out, where she and her producer fell on the Bread-versus-Nick-Drake divide, the varieties and definitions of mental illness, and whether Donald Trump counts when it comes to the titular subject.
Mental Illness marks a big a stylistic change-up from your last couple of projects, (2012’s) Charmer and (2014’s) The Both, which had a lot of power pop going on. This one is all about the mellow gold. Was there a conscious thought during the writing to make a pendulum swing back toward quieter sounds?
I just like the idea of having a record you can put on and have it, from beginning to end, deliver the same kind of lonely, melancholy, dark, wistful experience. I wanted to get away from bigger production. And with the Both record, that production was pretty stripped down — but it was a rock band, and I didn’t feel any real pull this time to try to write more up-tempo or rock songs.
After touring in smaller rock clubs as a trio and playing bass with The Both, I decided to write a record was the distillation of what I assumed people thought of me, if they thought that my songs were very down-tempo and very sad. But I really wanted to take it all the way stripped down, kind of like Leonard Cohen-type things, back in the real folk days — that was my initial goal. It definitely ended up more fleshed out than that, but that’s where I was trying to keep it. I think people might be ready for something super-sad and soft. But another part of it is like, why not? Because there’s a certain liberated feeling in the idea of knowing that nobody buys records anymore. If nobody buys records anymore, you can really do whatever you f—ing want!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YxQg4VVNKGQ
Did you and (longtime producer) Paul Bryan talk a lot about touchstones?
We had a lot of conversations before we started about the sounds that we were trying to go for and sample records, without trying to imitate anybody. He was a big Nick Drake fan. People always tell me about Nick Drake, but I’m not personally that familiar. But acoustic with strings — that’s kind of his deal, right? I was also listening to a lot of really soft ‘70s rock, like Bread and Dan Fogelberg… you know, the finger-picky stuff. Going for as soft as we can get it was kind of the goal.
You recently released a Carpenters cover (“Yesterday Once More”), but no one is going to compare this album to the Carpenters too much.
No. And the Carpenters song was for [Martin Scorsese’s HBO] show Vinyl, and I think they were trying to just do a straight copy, to make it sound as much like the original as possible. That was a Joe Henry production.
You’ve mentioned Bread a number of times, but your writing sensibility is so different, no one is going to listen to the new album and think, “Oh, this is just so David Gates.”
I was listening to a lot of Bread, but more as a sonic reference, along with things like Loggins and Messina’s “Danny’s Song.” And we listened to some Bill Withers, “Ain’t No Sunshine.” My question was, how stripped down does a record have to be to retain the feeling of being stripped down, or can it have strings? Can it have bass? Can it have some percussion? Because I did want it to sound really bare. I was curious to go back to certain records and see really what kind of acoustic guitar sound they had: Was it strummed? Was it plucked? Mostly there was fingerpicking, which I’m not really that good at, so I had to get my friend Jonathan Coulton to do the fingerpicking stuff. So that was the brief: to see what acoustic guitar sounds went with other sounds to still make it sound really sparse.
More of the songs than not on this album have string arrangements, but they’re generally pretty subtle. Did you look to string arranger Paul Buckmaster’s work with Elton John back in the day for any inspiration?
We looked at Paul Buckmaster as a model for one specific song, the last song on the record, “Poor Judge.” Because I felt like that could be just piano and strings in that Madman Across the Water, “Levon” or “Tiny Dancer” (vein). This is my theory about his arranging: that he arranges strings like a horn section. They often take the melody in unison, and they’re very stabby and punchy, more horns than strings were arranged up to that point. So we looked to him for that song.
But Paul Bryan, who wrote all the arrangements, is more of a big Nick Drake fan, and I was actually just talking to him about it last night. He said another influence was this Brazilian artist, João Gilberto, who had this record (in 1976) called Amoroso. He said he liked the sound of the icy strings next to a warm voice. I was skeptical of the idea of strings on almost every song. It’s not as simple as my original concept for the album. But every arrangement was so different. On some, strings would just come in on the bridge, so it still retained the feeling of an acoustic or really stripped-down record. Some of the strings were more prominent, but I think from song to song, it varies enough so it keeps it interesting.
You haven’t shied away from giving people fair warning about the album’s downbeat qualities. But do you think fans experience it as depressing? Good songwriting always has a quality of exhilaration no matter what the tone or subject may be. And just as someone who’s feeling down may get some hope out of looking at a self-help book just because it puts a name on what they’re experiencing, you put a rhyme on people’s experience. That can feel uplifting even if the lyric captures a seemingly hopeless moment.
Yeah, that’s exactly how I feel. I read Facebook posts (about current events), and if someone has a real succinct sum-up of a horrible thing that’s going on, it’s uplifting, because it makes you feel less alone and that maybe together this is a problem that could be solved. Feeling isolated in your problems and your feelings is kind of the worst part of it. If you feel like somebody shares it and is also thinking about it and how to get out of it, to me, that’s an uplifting experience. I think people like to think somebody understands the more difficult things that they go through.
Just to ask a little about some of the imagery associated with the album. “Goose Snow Cone” was inspired by the cat of the title, and you used the actual Goose in the video, where she’s in some mortal jeopardy. And then on your album cover, you have this strange, chick-like creature seen through the thorny brambles of some dark woods. Is there some kind of theme going on with winsome creatures experiencing some kind of darkness?
I felt like that cover got at the psychological world of that subconscious stuff that’s all dark and murky, but there’s this creature, and it’s kind of a monster, but it’s also sort of cute and funny. That’s kind of the attitude I have about having issues and writing songs about your issues and writing songs about other people’s issues — that it is dark and difficult and it’s a little scary, but also, there’s an element of humor about it. You know, we’re all struggling with the same kinds of things, and there’s definitely an element of humor in recognizing one of your crazy things in other people, or vice versa.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fhThS-PJOFE
Although there aren’t many happy songs on the album, you managed to deliver some cheer and light into the world with the “Goose Snow Cone” video, which of course is an actual cat video. She experiences a health crisis in the video and spends some time with the vet, but you didn’t actually kill the cat. I felt confident you wouldn’t.
My friends post a lot of pictures of their cat, Goose, on Instagram, and she’s got white fur, and she really looks like a snow cone ball. So I start writing this song, and it’s really more about being homesick and lonely than it is about the cute little kitty. It’s very dumb that I kept the name, but once I wrote the song, I was stuck with it. Her owners moved out here, so I put Goose in the video. Goose is a good cat. She’s very photogenic. She wasn’t really cooperative. I was amazed what they did with editing where they got shots later that made it look like she was cooperating.
You have some more famous faces in the video for “Patient Zero,” but the song itself has some different things going on, and seems to be about a young person coming to Hollywood and finding success elusive. “Patient Zero” is a quintessentially spooky L.A. song, with references to The Big Sleep and Day of the Locust and the enticingly out-of-reach lights of the city. You know a lot of people in the film business. Is it worse than the music business, as far as being a mass frustrater of dreams?
I suspect that the movie business is worse than the music business. At least in music, it is possible without a ton of money to make some kind of recording and put it out into the world in some way. You can’t really do that if you’re an actor — you’re at the mercy of bad scripts and bad directors, and the politics, whether it’s studio politics or other actors who dislike you. I wrote that song about… well, not really about, but inspired by Andrew Garfield, who I met at a party years ago. It was before Spider-Man, and he had just come to Los Angeles and it was clear he did not feel like he fit in. I just had a moment of feeling like “You know, I kind of worry about this guy!” Because I felt like he is a real artist and very sincere, and I think to be a real artist the way he is, you have to be a very vulnerable person. And I just worry about vulnerable people. It’s not necessarily just his town, but in the world of big business, whatever that business is. I mean, he obviously did fine. But I think being famous is very difficult. It’s a weird kind of trauma and I think it makes people crazy. If everybody around you is saying you’re amazing and all your choices are great, there are no touchstones.
The life of the super-famous has special requirements. It’s a very rare person who can withstand it. My guess is that (Garfield) tried to have a career that’s a little more artistic and not focused on franchises. But somehow I was inspired to write this story about someone who comes to Hollywood with the promise of being in this big movie, and he’s maneuvered out of it. To me it’s almost a bit of a happy ending, because it’s like, this was never the place for you anyway. It’s not the town for me. And that was influenced a little bit by Nathaniel West and the people who write about Los Angeles in this more noir category (about the city’s) creepy underbelly.
Did you ever feel that way about your own fame, even if it wasn’t on a Hollywood blockbuster anchor level?
With my brush-up with fame, when ‘Til Tuesday was popular for a minute, it was certainly weird, and I found it very off-putting, because I didn’t really like people looking at me. That made me feel uncomfortable. I think only a real narcissist enjoys constant attention. To me, constant attention feels vaguely threatening. People expect things out of you you’re not going to be able to deliver. I don’t like that state. I like low expectations. I think about this a lot, because even in my own situation, if I’m on tour, and if we’re going into the hotel and somebody offers to carry my suitcase or something, it’s like “Oh, they’re being really nice because they’re my friend.” You can’t pretend to yourself that you as a person are so wonderful that people just want to carry your bags all the time! It’s not like people carry my bags, but still.
On this album, you have some songs about compulsive liars or drunks — just generally unstable people — and their victims including “Lies of Summer.”
I wrote “Lies of Summer” about somebody who’s had a specific kind of crisis, and all their lies and craziness exposed. I think once you realize that somebody’s a pathological liar, then you kind of scroll back through all the encounters that have just been slightly off, and then you see those in a different light.
“Knock It Off” is kind of a tough-advice song in the vein of “Wise Up” (from Magnolia). You almost seem to be invoking a Lloyd Dobler sort of Say Anything moment when you sing “Oh baby, knock it off, you can’t just stand there on her front lawn,” except you’re taking all the romanticism out of it.
That’s what people think of as the sort of cinematic/romantic moment, where you’re standing on somebody’s lawn, hoisting the boom box over your head. But it’s crazy behavior! It’s not taking no for an answer, which is not a great trait in a relationship. In the story of this song, this person’s behavior has just been so egregious, but after all his lies were revealed, he can’t understand why his girlfriend broke up with him. Like, ‘Why would you not trust me? I’m not getting credit for the 99 times when I didn’t lie!’ To me that’s fascinating, because that really is sociopath thinking. It’s always a fresh new day, and (the sociopath) is weirdly present, but sort of too present, because they forget that the past has consequences in the present.
There are other songs on this album that are encounters with crazy people. “You Never Loved Me” is about a friend of mine who was engaged to marry somebody and moved across the country to be with them, and they just disappeared on her. It’s certainly supposed to be a little bit wry and ironic and not entirely “Boo hoo for me.” I picture the narrator shaking their head and going, “Wow. You really stuck it to me. Good for you.”… I think sociopaths just don’t have that fear that most of us have, where we live most of our lives going “I hope this person likes me” or “Is my loved one mad?” or “How can I make this person happy, because it makes me happy?” We are connected to other people in an emotional, underground kind of way, and I think they’re just not.
Do you think there’s a clear delineation between people who have garden-variety neuroses and those who are mentally ill, or is it a sliding scale between us and some of your more disturbed characters? With the album’s title, were you thinking, ‘Everyone is mentally ill,’ in some certain loose way of thinking?
I certainly do think everybody’s got their thing. I wouldn’t go so far as to say everybody’s mentally ill. I’ve seen a lot of talk about Trump having narcissistic personality disorder, which I 100-percent agree with, but I don’t even know if that qualifies as a mental illness. There are definitely a few about a person I knew who probably is a sociopath, and those were kind of the main mental illness-y songs… I think another way to look at that is, people are trapped in compulsive behavior. I do think it’s on a continuum. Someone who’s just kind of garden-variety f—ed up, that has issues, of repeating the same mistakes or whatever, I don’t want to put that in the category of mentally ill. But I see how denial, when amplified and clung to, starts to encroach upon delusion.
I mean, we see it in our president. I don’t think that he can tell reality from the fiction that he has created. If he says something because he wants it to be true, I think at this point he believes that it makes it true. And I think that is delusional, and it’s hard to say that that kind of delusion is not mentally ill. But it’s self-created. I mean, I don’t think he started out schizophrenic and not able to tell reality from fantasy. I think that it’s a kind of willful, self-imposed brain damage. I definitely think it’s possible to walk yourself into that, just like you can walk yourself out of it one step at a time. Maybe not entirely in everything, but I certainly think there’s an element of work and help that you can take yourself out of being in a pretty bad mental state.
You see hope in these situations, but where does that come into the songs? A lot of them seem to leave the characters trapped, in their own bad behavior or in enabling somebody else’s.
I think with relationships, especially romantic relationships, the decisions you make are less decisions than blind impulses that are almost impossible to resist. Because it bypasses all thinking — even the times where you know, “Hmm, this person’s just like my mother,” or “This dynamic is exactly like the same dynamic I had with X, Y and Z.” I mean, I do it with friends, too. We form our patterns and we go to our spots, and it’s really cognitively painful to wrench ourselves out of those patterns. But it’s fascinating to see how the dynamic can change by just taking the smallest aspect of it and working on it. You can’t change another person, but if you change where you are in the cycle, then everything changes. I think that’s very encouraging and kind of weirdly exciting. And I think the interesting point at which a song gets written is the lament before the solution is either thought of or implemented. Sometimes there’s a benefit in just saying, “I give up, I can’t go on,” and having that moment before then you go on.
This article originally appeared on Billboard.
http://tunecollective.com/2017/04/02/aimee-mann-finds-mental-health-returning-quieter-solo-career/
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Respect The Neighbors • Grandson
By now it's not surprising at all to hear of a new, exciting act coming out of Canada. OVO and a steady contingent of artists from indie to full-fledged pop have positioned our northern neighbors as new-age proprietors of a range of sounds that have come to pace a sort of unique cross-pollination of genres that often find new understanding within its borders. While the R&B and Hip-Hop spaces have been packed full of card-carrying Canadians for some time, it was the brash, unapologetically rock-influenced sounds of 23-year-old Grandson that caught my ear. Having only begun to step out as of late with a string of talented singles that speak to his careful interplay of established motifs, Grandson is proving that rock isn't quite dead yet.
Over the course of the last two decades or so, a changing of the guard has occurred in popular music as hip-hop and urban soundscapes took centerstage away from the thundering, in-your-face brashness of the preceding epochs paced by intonations of rock from heavy metal to punk and beyond. In the years since rap made an appearance on the international scene, attempts at intertwining the genres came almost immediately with collaborations such as Run DMC and Aerosmith's legendary take on "Walk This Way". While the crossover has been achieved with positive results, it's a careful formula that launched the careers of acts like Linkin Park, but lacked the staying power to hold onto relevance. With an understanding for the subtleties across both musical lanes, this New Jersey-born, Toronto-raised act might be exactly what both genres need as typified themes of contemporary music is becoming increasingly redundant.
"I’ve always felt like sort of an outcast in rock-culture as well. Like I’ve never really put on the eye-liner and the tight leather pants, that’s never really been what I got into it for," said Grandson, who's name is both a nod to the rootsy nature of his rock influences, which were largely delivered by his grandfather. "I was looking for a home in music, I knew I had something to say and I knew there was room, but I didn’t identify with modern rock either. That’s not to say there aren’t other bands that I’m listening to now that I don’t enjoy, I just didn’t see how I fit in as this sort of misfit, hip-hop kid. When I set out to do the rock project, my main goal was to not sound like a cover band. I didn’t want to sound like I was trying to rip-off anyone from the past because frankly when I hear music nowadays that’s unapologetically nostalgic or retro, it just doesn’t make me want to listen to that band, it makes me want to listen to the band they’re trying to be."
Blending genres can be a sticky bitch that often comes unglued just when it begins to feel complete. For that reason, it took the young Canadian-adoptee awhile to find the lane he know occupies. Listening to a track like his latest single "Kiss Bang" it's easy to feel comfortable within the thumping chord progressions the same way it doesn't feel unfamiliar or forced when a trap beat comes unapologetically layered underneath. Whereas in 2012 the cliche would have felt too contemporary to be utilitarian, five years later the sound serves as a paper-clip, parsing together two separate ideas in a bold and unwavering manner.
Possessing a sort of innate understanding of the careful balance that must stay consistent within his increasingly narrow lane, Grandson has made sure that it presents itself as gimmick-free. Whereas rock music based in contemporary pop thematics often arrives with a slight message if one at all, this crossover acts has been careful to reflect the mentality of his generation at a time when it's truly needed. Instead of just laying a trap beat under an electric guitar and talking about the last party he attended, Grandson opts to reflect the thoughts and feelings of his projected audience through a straightforward writing style that pulls few punches.
"I, like a lot of people in my generation, feel in some ways disenfranchised by the current state of what’s going on. I feel like there’s a rampant case of apathy that’s spreading through people’s flirtation with activism and change. Not being able to see the tangible results that have come from that engagement," Grandson said. "I just wanted to give myself a voice. I believe that the way I see the world is not that unique, I don’t think it’s that special. I think that rock music is so uniquely angry and so unapologetically pissed off that you’re doing the forefathers a disservice by not addressing some of these things. How can we get people inspired, how can we let people know that their efforts aren’t going unnoticed when the people that are their elected representatives don’t seem to give a shit. I want to provide a place for that."
That mentality of ingenuity further proves itself in the live setting, where he finds himself flanked by a live band, a furtherance of giving his music the sort of gritty, rock-centric feel that he's been pushing towards for several years.
"The music really derives from the rehearsals and from the live set instead of the other way around, and that was something that was really important to me. It’s a four piece band. It’s me, it’s a drummer that’s also triggering sound, it’s a bassist that’s also playing a sub, and then a guitarist. Then it’s just me and a microphone," said Grandson. "I think it’s because we were all classic rock fans at one point. We all had our hair grown out and wanted to pick up an electric guitar, but that genre of music, for whatever reason, has been watered down or oversaturated. I don’t know what the word is, and I don’t want to disrespect anyone that's been keeping it alive for so long, but I knew that whatever I wanted to do, I wanted to do it on my terms and I wanted to do it differently than I felt it would be done."
While his reminiscent musical manifesto is certainly in steady motion, it's creator is quick to point back to his rearing north of the border as a catalyst for his audial sensibilities. Speaking over the phone last weekend during a break from recording out in L.A., which lately has served as an adopted hometown, Grandson described the scene in Canada. There, radio stations are have a standard that calls for playing localized music more than others and in turn that mentality has grown exponentially as more and more Canadian acts ascend to the international level.
"There’s all sorts of really interesting incentives in the Canadian entertainment industry to foster Canadian talent. There’s this thing called CanCon which is a broadcasting rule where Canadian radio stations have to play I think between 20-30% of their content has to be Canadian artists," he said. "I think it’s really an incredible opportunity and I think it’s been able to foster a lot of the emerging Canadian talent that has been blowing up of the past five to ten years, particularly in Toronto with the OVO sound within the genre of R&B and within rap. In Montreal too, that’s actually where I went to school and I had the good fortune of linking up with a bunch of artists out there that are doing some cool things these days. I remember going to a Kaytranada show really early before he had blown up."
Having followed his art from Canada back down to the sunny streets of Los Angeles with a newfound understanding of his musical identity realized, Grandson appears to be creating the most exciting music of his young career so far. Talking to him over the phone its readily obvious that he know it too. With a degree of tempered excitement emanating just below the surface, he's looking forward to the release of his upcoming project, which he is patiently approaching throughout 2017.
"I think now more than ever people need rock and roll. People need a place to get mad, not just to be together and be too cool to address these things. I think that it is trending in this direction, I’m very hopeful for rock music. I’m hopeful that the messages embedded in my music do find that audience that needs them so desperately, and the only reason I’m making the music is because I need that place for myself. It’s my own place as well."
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kyukurator-blog · 7 years
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MADE IN THE USA
  Poor man wanna be rich Rich man wanna be king And a king ain’t satisfied ‘Til he rules everything…                                          –“Badlands”
Here at The Thread our appreciation of Bruce Springsteen bloomed late, so reading Born To Run, his recent (and remarkably self-written) autobiography, taught us a lot about the evolution and rise of Springsteen as America’s most prominent working class poet.
 People more knowledgeable about music have complained that the book doesn’t go deep enough; others have told us that the facts aren’t always straight.  But for tramps like us, it was a rewarding reintroduction to The Boss and his often socially resonant songs.         
Like any Boomer talking about his life, Springsteen peppers the book with casual references to movies — Midnight Cowboy; The Good, The Bad and the Ugly; The Godfather trilogy, Groundhog Day, even Clouzot’s Wages of Fear.  
 But there are other films and filmmakers that were more direct influences on his sensibilities and the stories he tells.  This week’s list is five of those, plus a great documentary about a pivotal moment in his career.
    THE PROMISE: THE MAKING OF DARKNESS ON THE EDGE OF TOWN (2010)
 This HBO documentary covers a crucial turning point in Springsteen’s career.  1975’s Born to Run had rocketed him to stardom and the covers of both Time and Newsweek; but he was brought to a screeching halt by prolonged litigation with his first manager/producer, Mike Appel.
When he finally went back into the studio with the E Street Band, he produced a more complicated album that was an homage to his working-class origins – 1978’s Darkness on the Edge of Town.  The gap, combined with the noir tinge that album, slowed his pop star ascent but deepened his artistic roots.
          THE GRAPES OF WRATH (1940)
 Springsteen watched a lot of John Ford’s westerns – morality tales that are simultaneously simple and multilayered.  The stories have many similarities, yet Ford managed to avoid repeating himself.
According to Andrew Sarris, The Grapes of Wrath transformed Ford into “Ameica’s cinematic Poet Laureate” – and despite its pointed social message the movie was both a critical and box office success.   Springsteen’s Album The Ghost of Tom Joad is based on the lead character from the book/movie, who also inspired Woody Guthrie’s “The Ballad of Tom Joad.’
Tom Joad is played by Henry Fonda in the movie.  Evicted from their farm in the middle of the Dust Bowl era, the Joad family struggles their way west along Route 66.  They finally reach the promised land of California only to find conditions equally oppressive there.  And yet, despite all the misuse and struggle they endure, the Joads persevere.
    BORN ON THE FOURTH OF JULY (1989)
In his book, Springsteen says he stole the line “born in the USA” from a Paul Schrader screenplay.  But the song itself was inspired by the best-selling 1976 autobiography by wheelchair- bound Vietnam Veteran Ron Kovic.  The two met in L.A. just after Springsteen read the book, and became friends.  The album Born in the USA came out in 1984, and was massively popular, the most successful of Springsteen’s career.
In Oliver Stone’s movie, Tom Cruise plays Kovic, a gung-ho Marine who enlists but progressively more and more disillusioned —  first by the ruthlessness of the Vietnam war itself; then by his paralyzing injury; and finally by the way he is treated after his return to the States.
He eventually becomes convinced that the entire Viet Nam enterprise is misguided and joins Veterans Against the War.  He becomes a prominent protester and public speaker, reviled by the Nixon administration.
The film was the second of three Nam movies for Viet Vet Stone and won him an Oscar.  The role marked a surprising turn in Cruise’s career, earning him cred as a serious actor and with it a nomination for Best Actor.
    NIGHT OF THE HUNTER (1955)
This seems like an incongruous pick for Springsteen, except that he was always drawn to the moody grit of noir.  He also likes the child narrator.  The boy, John, is the only one who isn’t fooled by the ersatz preacher.  As Springsteen wrote his first acoustic album, Nebraska, he felt that the songs were all autobiographical, written from the truth of a child’s point of view.
Night is a creepy black-and-white film, the only film directed by prominent actor and theatre director Charles Laughton.  Robert Mitchum was a Springsteen favorite.  Here he plays the slimy serial killer who masquerades as an itinerant preacher and seduces the widow (a remarkably low-key Shelley Winters) of an executed bank robber.  His real goal is the robber’s fortune, stashed in a child’s doll.
The widow is killed, the children flee and are taken in by a tough old woman, who  guards them through the night until the killer is caught.
The film falls into one of our favorite categories – failures that come to be regarded as indelible landmarks.  This cult classic is amazing for many details – the preacher/killer intoning “Chillldren!”;  the words “L-O-V-E” and “H-A-T-E” which the preacher has tattooed across his knuckles; and the image of the old woman, played by silent star Lillian Gish, sitting in her rocking chair on the screen porch with a shotgun across her knees.
  BADLANDS (1973)
Springsteen’s song of the same title came out in 1978, the lead track on Darkness at the Edge of Town, his fourth album.  Springsteen is a professed admirer of Terrence Malick and says he had the title long before he wrote the song.
Both the movie (Malick’s first) and another Springsteen song, the 1982 “Nebraska” are based on the exploits of Charles Starkweather, a 17-year-old who went on a killing spree across Wyoming and Nebraska in the winter of 1958, accompanied by his 13-year-old girlfriend.
Sissy Spacek plays Holly, the 15-year-old girl who narrates the film in romance novel clichés.  It was her second movie and a breakout role.  The Starkweather figure is Kit, played by Martin Sheen, looking like Starkweather’s idol, James Dean.  Sheen was a bit more established (The Subject Was Roses) but this role landed him too squarely in the spotlight.
The spree starts when Holly’s father who objects to their growing romance.  They shoot him and set the house on fire, then the two take off on a roadtrip, killing with cold abandon as they travel across the broad cinematic swaths of American landscape that became one of Malick’s signatures.
At the time the movie was released, nobody could ignore the link to Bonnie and Clyde, 7 years before.  But Badlands made the link between lack youthful ennui, pop culture, and casual psychopathic violence that would become almost a cliché.  Starkweather’s story was also the basis of Kalifornia (Brad Pitt, 1993) and Natural Born Killers (Woody Harrelson, 1994).  Is it strange that Juliette Lewis played the young girlfriend in both films?
    PHILADELPHIA (1969)
 By the time Jonathan Demme asked Springsteen to write the theme for his breakthrough 1993 AIDS movie, Springsteen was already the demi-god of the working class rock anthem.   Like the movie itself and art at it’s best, the song transforms the very specific and isolated experience of AIDS into a universal experience that touches us all.  The single was one of Springsteen’s most successful; even more successful around the world than it was in the US.
In the movie, Tom Hanks plays a closeted gay lawyer who is fired on trumped up causes by his law firm when they suspect he has AIDS.  When he sues his firm, a black lawyer, played by Denzel Washington is spooked by the spectre of the disease and drops Hanks’ case.  He sets out to represent himself, but the black lawyer sees him again and this time, disgusted by his own prejudice, takes on the case, which plays out as Hanks health continues to deteriorate.
Screenwriter Ron Nyswaner uses the trial as a very effective device to set up and knock down the layers of prejudice and fear that had surrounded AIDS.  Combined with the incredible performances – and the simple presence of superstars Hanks and Washington in these roles (this was the same year as Sleepless In Seattle, a year after Malcolm X), the movie marked a cultural turning point in the battle against AIDS.
Demme himself shot the video for the song:
  MADE IN THE USA was originally published on FollowTheThread
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