#when full documentaries and lyrics and nuance are right there

[jlf23tumble]

The larry tide is shifting in the direction of your anon new to the fandom who decided to look into things. New fans, one who even do a deep dive, don't have that lived through all the drama emotional attachment and are happy to have a neutral take on all of it. After Liams death titktok blew up larry but most are happy to believe that larry was together, maybe, sure why not, they broke up, but haylor was real, louis is a dad, harry and taylor russell are soulmates and larry is still together. Whatever I'm just saying there's a lot of new fans and their beliefs are seriously all over the place which I think harry and louis are OK with because whatever story, if and when they decide to share, will be easier to believe by the majority. And if they don't then who cares because everyone believes what they want anyway.

Hell yeah, we're all telling stories! But real talk, no matter what their status is, they've gotta love love love extra noise to drown out some of the signal, as it were/was

[iambountyfan]

iambountyfan; echoes - Ruzina Frankulin, Darko Škrobonja, Ane Paška our tribute project ECHOES FROM OUR PAST features a variety of musicians, artists and creatives from all over the world; today we proudly present one of the finest works within the tribute, and are joined by Croatian composer, musician and sound designer Ruzina Frankulin (Tonči Bakotin), filmmaker and DOP Darko Škrobonja and finally actress, singer and musician Ane Paška (Ana-Marija Fabijanić) ahead of the debut of their music video "Aroma Ecito", an original track created exclusively for iambountyfan. Q. hello everyone! please, feel free to introduce yourselves and tell us a bit about your work. Darko Škrobonja: 
I'm a multimedia artist and a filmmaker. I also work on various projects as a photographer, director, and DOP/cameraman. In my personal work, I mostly deal with subjects like the passing of time and the absurdity of human existence. Ruzina Frankulin: 
Just a boy who as a 4 yr. old started jumping around a portable radio cassettophone. Since then, nothing really changed regarding the sensation I feel when the right sounds and images hit me. One of the best things in my life was the privilege of being a part of the music collective Zidar Betonsky, with which I enjoyed some fantastic intimate success thanks to my partners, both as artists and as extraordinary mates.
Apart from music, I do bits of audio technology lecturing, sound design, postproduction and video filming. Ane Paška: I am somebody who likes to explore different ways how to translate ideas and inner space of imagination in the language of music, words, performance, video, film. I finished dramaturgy in the Academy of dramatic arts in Zagreb and Master Film and Video in Art Academy in Split. During these years I took part in many workshops of contemporary theatre, physical theatre, performance and many different vocal and voice education. I also play a few musical instruments, and since 2014 I've been performing exclusively author works composed of my texts, poems and music. I have created several short music films that have been screened at various festivals around the world. Q. you are all well versed in different art fields. could you tell us a bit about how the three of you met? is "Aroma Ecito" your first collaboration? D.Š.: In 2013 I was filming a short experimental film for a theatre company with whom Ruzina collaborated. Over the next few years, we got to know each other much better when he helped me with sound editing and sound design on 3 of the films I made at the Arts Academy University of Split. In 2019. he introduced me to Ane and our first collaboration "Aroma Ecito" began. R.F.: I met Darko through some short film projects and we continue to collaborate whenever there's an opportunity out of mutual interests. Darko was a logical choice for this project, because I knew we could fulfill each other in the most fruitful way; the same goes for Ane. I met her about two years ago when a friend suggested that I go see one of her live performances. I don’t go out often as I've lost interest in the local scene, but it turned out it was well worth leaving the studio. I consider her as probably the most exciting upcoming music artist in Croatia at the moment. We are preparing some things together, cooking well behind the scenes. A.P.: When I decided to record my music album, a friend of mine recommended Ruzina and his music studio. 
We met after one of my performances and both of us had a great wish to create something together. Right now, we are in the process of recording music and this collaboration is really fantastic to me. Ruzina also introduced me to Darko when we were planning to make “Aroma Ecito”.

Ane Paška, photo by Kaja Zulin Q. what are the biggest inspirations behind your creative drive? D.Š.:  The process of creating art is my only drive and inspiration to do more. Time stops, life has meaning. R.F.: There are likely tons of sound and visual imprints that I’ve absorbed during the years. It is important for me to try to keep them on an unconscious level, and use musical instruments and technology to sculpt something that has emotion. My destinations are always emotions. A.P.: Life itself! There are so many beauties in the world, evil, sorrow, happiness, misunderstandings, kindness, suffering, poetry, secrets, that art can help us embrace with all the nuances of such a complex and incredible world. Q. how long has it been since you first got in touch with the art of iamamiwhoami? which audiovisual era has been the most influential to you?  D.Š.: Ruzina introduced me to the project in 2018. and I've been a fan ever since. The present [era] is the most interesting. R.F.: I was an immediate fan since early December 2009. I do not remember how I encountered it, but I followed all first six uploads in real time and was amazed by that work. I still think that those first videos are absolutely Jonna and Claes' strongest work; I see it as reminiscent of all greatest pop electronica substruction, wicked and twisted with a fresh dose of originality. I was hoping to see a full length album released out of those. A.P.: Ruzina introduced me to the project as well and I also liked their first videos. Q. please tell us a bit about the creation of "Aroma Ecito" and the creative process behind the track. R.F.: When I was asked to create an original track for this release, I started to mess with some beats I had sitting on my hard drive for years. They didn't have a structure that could make the pop form I had in mind when thinking of a homage to iamamiwhoami, but it had a certain atmosphere that drove me to something. The rest was done by layering beat and synthesizers. And I have no idea how I am doing it. It is a child’s play where I try not to screw the purpose of the track. A.P.: Ruzina made the music and had a concrete idea of the way I should sing. On the other hand, I have seen great potential in the song for it to have lyrics that are sung in a fictional language. In such a way the song could get an even more mystical character. In the end, we made a compromise and only one verse remained fictional, but very well correlated with the rest of the song. Q. what about the video? I can tell that some of the scenes within it are reminiscent of the "bounty" series. D.Š.: Yes, at our meetings we talked a lot about the "bounty" series which became our initial inspiration for the visual style and the mood of the video. Later on, our artistic characters began to take over and we started to play. R.F.: Sure, it came from the influence of iamamiwhoami, but soon enough Ane took over with her performance and ideas which she developed with Darko, who was also responsible for completing the technical side of filming. All I remember is that somebody said the word “oranges” and there it was. Oranges hanging from strings - and we made it seem pretty effortless, although people who saw the video before release commented that it surely was very well planned. And it was indeed planned, but I wouldn't say “very well” because we worked by using instinct mostly. That’s I guess why we chose to work with each other. We just allowed dancing ideas to stick. A.P.: Two weeks before we started shooting the video, I was on a remote island with a beautiful sandy beach. I was playing with kids, and at some point, they buried me in the sand. Then I stayed lying buried in the sand for a few hours; by that moment some scenes for the video came to my head and I decided to share them with Darko and Ruzina, and suggest that this could be the material on which we could continue to build the video. The idea of oranges crooned within me for several years since pregnancy, when the oranges in my imagination grew to the proportions of an entire continent and an incredible landscape. I'm glad that Darko and Ruzina have accepted these ideas and that the filming of the video was conducted in a beautiful and relaxed atmosphere in which we gave ourselves a chance to improvise. Q. we really enjoyed Ane's performance in the music video. can you tell us a bit about the lyrics and the general meaning behind them?  R.F.: Lyrics are basically about the process of creating music or art in general. The ideas that jump and dance around you, completely free, like muses. It’s up to you to allow them to take you on- they are not always happy encounters, they can burn you as well. Important parts were added by Ane, like voice emotion and the line «smoo la te lo mande lai», which we still do not know how to explain to anyone, but we know the feeling behind it or how it looks on one's face. I think it fits perfectly for this. A.P.: Thank you very much! As I said, I had an idea to invent a language for this song, but finally we made a compromise and found a way to balance the English and fictional language into a meaningful whole that sounds good. Q. as you might know, To whom it may concern. is an independent reality that creates and releases film and music without creative boundaries. would you say that the Sensoria collective shares a similar premise?  R.F.: Well, Sensoria is basically an artistic association and as such it is a non-profit organization. We mostly deal with non-commercial content - be it sound or video. Some releases I am particularly proud of are an experimental documentary about the ocean surface (“m.ocean”) and audiovisual 7-channel installation called “Festival”, where we showed what is possible when you take seven so-called notable Croatian singers and take millisecond audio and video sample snippets to transform them to completely new electronic music with accompanying videos. These will both be released next year in physical form. This year, we are releasing music from five theatre plays for the Fractal Falus Theatre, for which Zidar Betonsky have been creating music since 1997. We recently released "Aroma Ecito" and are continuing to make music with Ane. Our website is a mess at the moment, but it will soon be renewed.

Ruzina Frankulin, press photo Q. what do you think about the current state of the music industry? do you think independent musicians carry an important role altogether and how can they work around it?  D.Š.:  Yes, their role is very important. But there's a big problem with music videos in general. They by themselves vary in quality, but the general trend is alarming. People are starting to watch music a lot more than listen to it. This is where filmmakers' responsibility toward the musicians and their work is crucial. A true collaboration between the mediums is rare. R.F.: It seems to me that the music industry is more or less on the same page all the time. The industry wants to be industry – so they see artists as its workers, to put it lightly. It is just that mediums are changing: nowadays we have web and mobile platforms, so music is much more accessible than ever before. And the industry wants to charge every click, every move of finger, be it yours as a consumer or the artists'. Schemes like “pay what you want” or nesting music as payable torrents that were introduced by Radiohead are refreshing ideas, but unfortunately they aren't working for unknown acts or bands without exposure. I am even not sure how iamamiwhoami managed to catch such big attention at first with unknown video uploads, but I am sure glad they did. Also, as I understand they had tours partially financed by their fans around the world, which is a great thing. I think we all need to adopt and try to use all we can while caring not to hurt anyone in one way or another. A.P.: I'm going to be honest, I don't think much about the music industry at all. I am committed to creating, and so far I have witnessed that creation always finds its way to people. There are things that money can never and will not be a threat to. Q. thank you for your hard work and for joining us today! we wish you the best of luck for your future endeavours. all: Thank you very much! follow Sensoria.hr and Ruzina Frankulin on YouTube | Vimeo or check out their official website: Sensoria.hr follow Darko Škrobonja on Vimeo and Ane Paška on YouTube interview by Marco Napolitano

[troutfishinginmusic]

Essay: The difficult humanity of Iggy Pop’s solo discography

Most interviewers will talk about The Stooges, maybe touch on the Bowie years and leap to whatever album Iggy Pop is currently promoting. There’s a lot of history missing in between all that.

Iggy’s solo discography, from New Values to Après, is a lot to take in. It truly runs the gamut, from radio pleas to experimental fuck-offs.  I’ll try to provide nuance and context wherever possible as I go through each kind of Iggy record from this period. That said, it isn’t an easy body of work to assess.

Here comes success: Pop albums

Iggy’s attempts to fit into the mainstream are fascinating. New Values (1979) possibly had the the greatest chance to become a hit. It’s an album that does a fine job threading the needle of Iggy’s punk, avant-garde and pop sides. You don’t have to imagine too hard to see a song like “Tell Me a Story” getting radio play.

New Values also may be one of Iggy’s strongest solo albums. Songs like “New Values,” “I’m Bored” and “Five Foot One” are undeniable classics. There are few flaws to be found (I’ll get to that later).

There’s a genuine commitment to the material on Party (1981), but crossover mega-stardom proved to be  elusive. It may have been hard for audiences to forget this guy making radio moves was someone who, only a few years prior, was known for rolling on broken glass.

It’s a bummer because there’s more to Party than the cover would lead you to believe. It’s a solid 80s album with more lyrical depth than what you’d find on the radio in that era. No one could argue it’s his best, but you can definitely put it on and not skip a track.

I met you out at the Mardi Gras On a French Quarter sidewalk When you kissed me, it was strong I wonder if you'll hear this song

- “Pumpin’ for Jill” from Party

Iggy lets his crooning take center stage for the first time as well. It’s more fully developed on later albums like Preliminers or Avenue B, but it didn’t have far to go. His version of “Sea of Love” on Party is one of the best, falling just short of Cat Power’s cover.

Blah-Blah-Blah (1986) is just a well-executed 80s pop record, but you do get the nagging feeling it doesn’t feel as natural as other Iggy albums. The best songs are one’s like “Cry for Love” where he brings out his incredible goth-y croon to great affect. And it’s hard to hate a song like “Real Wild Child (Wild Child)” even if it is desperately clawing at the pop charts.

Solider is solid but doesn’t quite reach the heights of the focused, but flawed, New Values. “Take Care of Me” and “I Need More” are great, straight forward punk songs. “Mr. Dynamite” is one of his better stabs at incorporating pop and avant-garde. “Loco Mosquito” is a solid pop song that slips in punk lyrics. “Get Up and Get Out” is a rare feminist song that works perfectly in its simplicity.

I'm wondering fellas if you've heard the news The chicks are sick and tired of being abused Now I saw all this on the wide screen You know that chick Bette Davis split right out of the scene

- “Get Up and Get Out” from Soldier

“I’m a Conservative” is Iggy’s tongue-in-cheek lyricism firing on all cylinders. It’s placed next to “Dog Food” where Iggy thumbs his nose up at all the stereotypes people had hung on his shoulders up to that point, for better or worse.  

Cold Metal: LOUD rock albums

Iggy has consistently said how boring big dumb rock albums are in interviews, especially Nu Metal. Yet at different points he still feels a need to put up a big ugly noise, while slipping in interesting lyrics, just to prove he can. This has meant different things at different points.

If you can get past the terrible hair metal-esque cover art and seriously flawed production, Instinct (1988) is actually kind of interesting. It pales next to the Stooges albums, but if you’re more partial to the rocking side of Iggy’s career you could do worse. Some highlights include “Easy Rider,” “Cold Metal,” “Strong Girl��� and “High on You.”

The worst of these “rocking” albums, and possibly his worst album overall, might be Naughty Little Doggie (1996). It’s just sort of an embarrassing slog. The best songs (like “Knucklehead”) are passable and have a nice grinding blues-y thing going on. It sounds like the album a rocker would make to stay up to date with punks in the 90s.

Naughty Little Doggie also contains some repulsive and confessional lyrics, which I’ll get to later. It’s an understatement to say this thing is probably questionable to a lot of ears, but it is important.

American Caesar (1993) is interesting. It sounds like Iggy striking a good balance between rocking out and introspection. It’s also sort of a concept record.

“Jealousy” is a great acoustic song with simmering hatred just barely contained. There’s a great “Louie, Louie” cover that adds some political commentary. “Boogie Boy” is probably his best song making fun of big dumb rock music. There are standout songs, but the thing works best when you listen to the whole thing.

Now every mornin’ I wake up at nine I'm eating cheerios with red wine I'm reading that book but it's not too good Cuz my boogie head is made outta wood It's a fact i get so much joy When i can go out and be a boggie boy

- “Boogie Boy” from American Caesar

American Caesar is very long, with a runtime of over 70 minutes. You have to be in the mood for it and ready to hang in there for the whole thing.

As I revisited all of these albums I was shocked by how much I liked Beat ‘Em Up (2001). It’s extremely heavy and extremely funny. I made the mistake of reading reviews about it before I actually listened to it. It’s much more than a big dumb rock album.

A song like “Football” does a lot of things at once and somehow succeeds.  Iggy is able to make a song where he imagines himself as a football being thrown around sound oddly touching. “Mask” and “V.I.P.” are are some of his best rant-y songs in a long career of them. 

Complicated crushed up disappointed squirming angry thrusting stabbing regretting starving greedy human alien being, struggling down the street, up the alley, in the elevator, through the party, to the office, in the bedroom, on your way to the morgue.

- “Mask” from Beat ‘Em Up

It’s also HEAVY. It may even be heavier than the Stooges records in some ways. Mooseman from Body Count joins his band, The Trolls, on the album to provide some great lowend (sadly it was his last album). I never thought I’d find myself getting into this album but it’s actually pretty fantastic, although a bit long. 

It’s totally what The Weirdness should’ve been. With a bit of time I could see this being a bit of a cult classic. Plus it gave birth to this great performance.

Till wrong feels right: Famous collaborator albums

Brick by Brick (1990) is a well-constructed early 90s rock record and it sounds like it. It’s damn catchy, especially “Candy.” It features session pros and rock royalty from the time like Slash. It’s all executed well, but it’s not really something you’ll return to often.

One interesting song on Brick by Brick is “Butt City,” which is as goofy the title suggests but does slip in a some pretty good social commentary about racial profiling by police. This and “Mixing the Colors” from American Caesar explain Iggy’s views on race in a plain way, which was overdue.

The cops are well-groomed, with Muscled physiques in Butt Town Their tan uniforms are tailored in chic In Butt Town Any young black male who walks down the street Is going to get stopped by a car full of meat But the girl with the hair Flies by in her underwear

- “Butt Town” from Brick by Brick

Skull Ring (2003) is an album that is the epitome of hit or miss. Iggy brought in marquee punks like Green Day and Sum 41 and it actually kind of works. His Peaches collaborations on the album are fascinating but aren’t songs you’ll come back to often. Their best collaboration is a song called “Kick It” on the Peaches’ album Fatherfucker.

The bad songs with new collaborators are at least interesting. Strangely, songs with the newly reformed Stooges and previous backing band The Trolls are the ones that don’t jump out. There are a few gems like “Superbabe,” “Whatever” and “Dead Rockstar,” though.

King of the dogs: French albums

The French albums Iggy made are both stunners. They seem ridiculous on first blush but, once you get over your own preconceptions, they’re great.

Préliminaires (2009) has it’s roots in a Michel Houellebecq’s novel, New Orleans Jazz and bleak existentialism. “King of the Dogs” is such a perfectly suited cover for Iggy. “I Want to Go to the Beach” is a devastatingly minimal plea. “Party Time” is a goofy song with a very 80s propulsive bassline. I can’t say enough good things about this album.

Après (2012) is great in a lot of the same ways but is a more straight forward covers album. The selection is great. His version of Yoko Ono’s “Going Away Smiling” is perfect, though it’s hard to beat the original. There are also some great Serge Gainsbourg, Beatles and Cole Porter covers. This is definitely worth seeking out.

Buried in a melting coffin: Experimental albums

It’s been resurrected with the documentary Gimme Danger, but most don’t think about the Stooges being one of the first noise rock bands. This is apparent in some of their discography, but the very early version of the band (when they were called the Psychedelic Stooges) supposedly sounded like The Melvins. Iggy even played the vacuum during shows. There are no recordings from this period. This is all relayed by Iggy in many different interviews. He was also very closely associated with the Andy Warhol crew and drew from a variety of boundary pushing influences as a record store clerk in Ann Arbor. In his solo discography, this willingness to push boundaries comes out on occasion. 

Zombie Birdhouse (1982) was recorded in Haiti, following Party. It’s a very difficult album to unpack, so I’ll do so carefully. Imagine Iggy made his version of David Bowie’s Lodger album, at least in terms of lyrical content. Most of the album revolves around the idea of an American in a place he doesn’t understand. It’s the most political thing he ever recorded.

The opener “Run Like a Villain” depicts America bombing its poorer adversaries. It’s a wonder that he rarely ever made songs like this since it’s so effective. For example:

Big Dick is a thumbs-up guy He shot a missile in the sky It functioned just as advertised Until the fire made him cry 

“Run Like a Villain Zombie Birdhouse

“The Villagers” is a bit hard to take but it fits the tourist theme of the album. “Watching the News” is a super experimental song about Iggy doing just that in a very uncomfortable, but effective way. “Ordinary Bummer” and “Platonic” are solid ballads. The best songs are the uptempo “Eat or Be Eaten” and “The Horse Song.” The ladder has these crazy drone-y parts that are molded into something insanely catchy. I’d submit it as one of the best songs he’s ever done.

This is such a vastly underrated album that was sadly undercut a bit by the production at the time. That’s since been improved on the remastered version, which I can’t recommend enough.

Avenue B (1999) is very reflective. It’s jazzy and slower moving than most of his discography. My guess is that his new album, Free, is going to be very similar to this based on the songs that have been released so far. That’s a good thing.

Collaborators like John Medeski provide a great foundation for Iggy’s lyrics to be on full display. Everything from acoustic guitars to bongos crop up, creating a subdued and gentle springboard to dive off. 

You can tell Avenue B was an album he wanted to make for a long time. It explores a lot of difficult things. From being in love with fascist to the problems of a relationship with a much younger woman.

This is a course corrective from Naughty Little Doggie, picking up where “Look Away” left off. It’s the beginning of Iggy becoming a bit more accountable for his past. There are still some cringe-y moments, especially on the otherwise great “I Felt the Luxury,” that don’t age well. But, on the whole, it’s honest and the start of a new chapter.

(Don’t) look away: Contradictions and skeletons

You don’t have to look hard through Iggy’s solo discography to find "problematic” lyrics. The messages aren’t always handled well but they’re more honest than anything you’ll find on a typical rock record. That’s an important distinction.

Confessions

There’s a sense of willful forgetfulness rock fans have about teenage groupies. Every now and again I’ll hear a movie like Almost Famous called “dated,” even though that’s totally what happened at the time. While many thinkpieces point to the fact that there were laws in place that made this illegal at the time, they totally miss the point about public perception on this issue. Just because there is a law on the books doesn’t mean people will care or follow it. This wasn’t just a rock star problem, even if it’s easier to tell ourselves that.

Pretty much every rock icon you can name from the 80s and earlier has this skeleton in their closet. Iggy is no different in this regard.

The difference maybe is honesty. “Look Away,” from the album Naughty Little Doggie, is a very unpleasant but real song. It doesn’t romanticize the power imbalance and lays it out simply in the first line.

The song discusses Iggy’s relationship with Sable Starr and her subsequent doomed relationship with Johnny Thunders. You’re not going to hear a confession like that on an album by Jimmy Page or the Eagles, even though they have more reason to clench up about the topic. Honesty doesn’t make it easy, though. In Iggy’s own words in the song “What we did once, I wouldn't do again.” Hopefully that’s true.

I don’t excuse any of this, it’s terrible. Especially on an album with a creepy, leering song like “Pussy Walk.” Naughty Little Doggie is a difficult album to sort  out. Yet it does lay bare all the downsides of the glam lifestyle (which in many ways he was a part of) and abandons any mythologizing about it. I do think we can discuss these things and learn from them, but I would never recommend anyone buy this record. If you want a reason to not listen further, this is it.

The flip side is that Iggy has been an ardent supporter of feminist art throughout his career and obviously didn’t see creeping on teen girls as a contradiction. He should’ve known better and been held accountable, along with scores of other artists from his era. We know better now.

It seems he does too and has been working to change this prior to the metoo era and has never tried to act like something he’s not. In recent years he has made a tangible efforts to correct these past mistakes, which I don’t see other artists from his era doing. He has recently raised money for the Girls Rock Camp Alliance charity. He’s championed independent female artists like U.S. Girls, Pins, Le Butcherttes, Noveller and countless others. Small steps, but steps nonetheless.

Race

On the whole Iggy been way ahead of the curve on race politics, but has one awfully ignorant song on his album New Values. His views are made a bit clearer on American Caesar and Brick by Brick, but this is still something worth discussing.

In pretty much every interview he’s given he’s made sure to promote the black music that gave birth to rock and roll. Early in his career he backed black musicians as a drummer and has collaborated with them throughout his career. He drew influence from traditions that weren’t his own and made something totally unique. He didn’t steal from other cultures. That’s far ahead of the time.

What isn’t is a song like “African Man” which was either intended to be edgy or goofy, but just ends up being kind of racist. There’s no way around that. It’s just a terrible song that ruins the near perfect New Values. It’s a fucking bummer it was ever recorded and I sincerely hope it doesn’t give someone the idea that it’s funny to say something like that.

I would chalk this up to ignorance that a good deal of white people had at the time. Movies and cartoons depicted Africans as savages and cannibals. I think this is what he was trying to replicate and possibly parody. For someone who supposedly had an interest in social anthropology early in life, I’m surprised he would utilize a stereotype that blatant. This makes me personally think it was supposed to be a parody. There comes a point where none of that matters, though. It sadly ends up giving comfort to those who hold backwards views on race.

I’d love to actually know his thoughts on this stuff, but no one actually asks about it in interviews. It’s frustrating because it’s an issue he gets right more often than not. It’s better to confront these things than to pretend they don’t exist. I think that’s the only way forward.

There is one moment where he does apologize for accidentally using a dated term in a past interview. Maybe that’s a good indication of how he feels today.

Break into your heart: Conclusions

It’s hard to write objectively about an artist who means a lot to you. I tried for years to figure out a way to do this coherently (it probably didn’t end up working). I saw a few OK lists spring up dissecting some of these albums, but they always seemed to just graze the surface. There was always something lacking.

They missed the honesty and humanity on display through a long and complicated career. They would mythologize the usual parts. They would gloss over the difficult parts. They would diminish the efforts for something better.

To me Iggy was a catalyst that didn’t just birth a movement for disengaged youths to stick safety pins through their noses. It was much more than that. He opened a door for marginalized people to scream about the oppression they face daily. He promoted difficult and confrontational art. He is a mirror for America’s best and worst impulses.

For me, and many others, his life represents a struggle to survive and keep getting better. He’s survived bad reviews, severe drug addiction, divorces and a host of other things. There’s something so powerful to that simple notion of getting back up after falling hard that many times. I think that’s why, despite his flaws, people still care.

It’s been difficult to grapple with some of the regrettable parts of his discography. I think everyone is doing that now with their record collections in some way. There are no easy answers. It really comes down to how you want to engage with art and commerce. I’m not going to preach to you or tell you how you should interact with art. Iggy Pop is a lot of things, but above all else he is transparent. I can live with that.

After some deserved success and recognition with Post Pop Depression, he’s ready to step out on a limb with his new album Free. I can’t wait to hear it.

[idolizerp]

LOADING INFORMATION ON INDIGO’S LEAD VOCAL, LEAD DANCE KIM RAEYOON…

IDOL DETAILS

STAGENAME: Remy CURRENT AGE: 25 DEBUT AGE: 20 TRAINEE SINCE AGE: 17 COMPANY: MSG ETC: They have recently gotten involved more heavily in production and lyric writing

IDOL IMAGE

remy bursts onto the scene of winter 2014 with bad boy debonair, mischievous nonchalance, and a penchant for flirtation. play off the strengths and weaknesses of your members, had been their furtive recommendation. here’s the earnest one, the sensitive one, the diligent one, the ethereal one, and now you. you’re sharp edges, a cut and cruel face, thin mouth that only knows how to grin crooked, and tapered eyes whose surest weapon is their wink. hone your artillery, make it yours, and if you can, make them scream.

remy’s never been one for violent metaphors but he runs with this one because his passion outweighs everything else. for the first few years it gets the better of him and he feels some dissonance, has a hard time believing any of what he’s bringing to the stage is coming from anywhere real because of course it isn’t. but in time he learns that this too is part of the art of performance, and that there’s nothing disingenuous about what he’s doing so long as he can differentiate his two egos of what could never be and what actually is. when the music stops so does the charade and this is how he will retain his authenticity.

the public learn the ins and outs of remy, too; the few who care at all take whatever crumbs and scraps they can find, one scattered comeback at a time, to build a more nuanced portrait and uncover the person behind the persona. for the most part their findings are accurate and positive. remy is methodical, prefers to take things a little bit at a time. but is there a reason he takes forever to make a decision? it’s only dessert. it’s called being considerate. his head is in the cloud sometimes, but he’s always thoughtful. must read a lot too, he’s always quoting stuff i’ve never heard of. pretty sure that’s his way of showing off the fact he used to study in europe, never liked elites like him. the only bravado he shows is onstage, not sure what you’re talking about. he’s surprisingly demure behind the scenes. i’ve never seen him cry, not even once. you sure he’s not some kind of robot? i’d pay good money to see a robot with a laugh that cute. weird. i think you mean his laugh is weird.

his reputation—whichever unassembled pieces exist in phone cameras, group chats, morning catchup by the office water cooler—follows remy straight into re:group, where he thereupon establishes himself as the show’s sage, a calm meditative tide. the contrasting snarl and bite of his performance style still persists, but the sex appeal stops there. he’s not controversial, not cutthroat enough to propel himself to viral fame. but his character and up-until-this-point unseen predilection for music win him the respect of fellow competitors and the sincere affections of weekly viewers. it’s more than he could possibly ask for.

with indigo’s triumphant return to the industry, remy repays fans old and new by trying his hand at songwriting. building off of the momentum from re:group and recognizing the group’s need for growth, msg embraces a brand shift, letting him produce the track for their next comeback. the move effectively solidifies and tacks on a new identity for him as a producer for the group; he acquiesces to the role with ease, and to rave reception. indigo’s reaffirmation in society comes with the affirmative understanding for all of the members that donning their faces, old and new, they’re in it for the long haul.

IDOL HISTORY

a: at five, he is petulant. more than the average five-year-old should be, but who can blame the kid when he feels how jarringly out of place he is in this country and continent, but doesn’t have the vocabulary to express any of it. and so raeyoon prefers to spend his time indoors, in front of the television and away from prying eyes, watching documentaries and music broadcasts he never quite comprehends but thinks he likes the sound of. mother, ever observant from the kitchen, keeps a watchful eye.

b: prideful, not passionate. pride is what keeps him enrolled in piano lessons but keeps him from realizing his potential. his mother sits with him through every practice session, guiding him with an iron will and berating him with an immovable ear. she calls him a technician and so do the judges, but he plays a showstopper in basel and a sonata in bern anyways because people have programs to fill and don’t expect full emotional maturation from a ten year-old. that summer when he takes the train to summer camp abroad—but then, what isn’t abroad at this point—raeyoon distantly wonders where he’s headed.

c: hundreds of miles from home, raeyoon is suddenly compelled to take to the stack of cds that father snuck into his suitcase months ago without ever citing a reason. the cds themselves are bare. the cases in which they are contained are bare save for a rough tracklist penned in permanent marker. the music that he hears isn’t anything familiar. but the voice he hears most certainly is.

d: he passes his audition.

he had gone on a whim. while out shopping for beef bones with grandmother one morning someone had approached him with a business card and while stewing the beef bones back in her apartment he’d asked grandmother to accompany him. he doesn’t remember anything about it beyond a panel of faceless men and his mother’s voice reverberating like a dream in the caverns of his head.

it was never supposed to be this consequential and yet it is, yet here he is feeling the most something he’s felt in his five-thousand-eight-hundred-eight-eight-day life. the news hits him like a brick and his head drops onto the table. grandmother pries the phone away from his hands and dials in another number. with his head still down and eyes closed raeyoon hears her shuffle into the kitchen, open the pot, and plate up the last serving of oxtail soup. he hears the line click on the other end. and then he hears her voice again, so familiar and sweet and real.

e: he blends in here. he laughs thinking back to a decade ago when he’d stood out so sorely, and how that’s exactly what he needs now if he wants a good shot at this. for the next three years, he sharpens himself to the finest point possible.

f: it’s called face. face in the crowd, facing the music, saving face. it’s a word loaded with meanings and potentialities and it feels so wholly appropriate raeyoon almost cries but doesn’t, not yet. he runs through the showcase introduction, performance, final ments. thanks everyone for coming out to support their debut. when the spotlight dims down and the mass of bodies begins to file out of the venue, he spots his mother lingering in the audience, a face in the crowd. raeyoon swallows the lump in his throat. not yet.

g: during rehearsal at a hundred-person venue in gwangju city, a standing light crashes and raeyoon sustains a small injury to his right pinky. no big deal, he tells everyone, it’s not like he’s using it for much anymore anyways, and the appendage is wrapped in gauze and rehearsal continues like clockwork.

he doesn’t notice until a year later, when it’s much too late for buddy tape and a brace, that his pinky never quite recovered right. he opens up a dusty book of liszt arpeggios wondering if maybe now is the time to leverage that skillset, if maybe now he can demonstrate something beyond the technical prowess of his childhood, and fumbles like a clown on the keys. looking down, his pinky tells him the whole story. the first knuckle juts outward and askew with the rest of the finger, like a soul separating from its host.

he thinks back to the past year, and even the year before that, and draws a funny picture not unlike the analogy. it’s not just the finger. negligence is rampant. looking the other way and pretending not to notice everything that’s gone wrong, and everything that could possibly go wrong. what were the meds for, again? chronic pain, allergies, or just insomnia? he forgets. forgets most things, like his pinky finger, like the fact he hasn’t called home in weeks out of shame, and forgets that crying was even an option even though these days he’s got all the time in the world.

h: his saving grace descends in the form of a reality show that sweeps the country and his group by storm. it’s in between mandatory diary entries, the relentless gaze of the camera, stress and sleep deprivation, public defamation, and the thrill of a new stage—another day—that sets raeyoon alight again.

on the last night: a sea of faceless, wailing bodies under the stage, let’s debut, and his mother’s song ringing in his ears. he feels the bodies beside him leave one at a time to claim their spot on the podium, rank five, four, three. he’s tired, hungry, and smiling brighter. two. a rock tied by string. and one. his vision blurs, wet, and opaque. the lump in his throat swells, and he throws his head back to blink away the tears. not yet, not yet.

i: his first hand at production, a first win for the group, and a first concert after five years. it’s nothing short of a miracle, and their story is one that resonates somewhere deep. though revitalized, raeyoon doesn’t hunger for much anymore. but even five years in and with the tides swaying in their favor, he knows better to submit to complacency—scoffs at even the suggestion of it. with the attention on them—actually, legitimately on them now—the stakes are higher than ever, and he’s simply too grateful to do anything but deliver.

[theliterateape]

"Here's My Heart": Braid's 'Frame & Canvas' Turns 20

By David Himmel

Today marks the 20th anniversary of the release of Frame & Canvas by the Champaign, Illinois-based band Braid. This album mattered. It mattered when it was first released for what it meant for the punk/emo/hardcore genre. It mattered for what it meant for the band. It mattered for what it meant to me and the thousands (Tens of thousands? Millions?) of kids like me. And yeah, it matters now.

I know I’m not the first to get all fanboy gooey over this album or this band. But lately I’m having a hard time not submitting to the allure of nostalgia, that gorgeous siren. No, it’s not nostalgia. It’s reference to the past, my past. It could be that the last year was a wild one — first year of marriage; dog gets sick; land a new job; wife gets pregnant; lose the new job; dog dies; first child is born. A lot of impactful things have happened personally — internally. And it’s been busy externally, too — all things Trump; the generational war; the race/socio-economic war; the geographical war; Stranger Things 2. In wild times like these, it does one best to cite history for the guidance, clues and cues for how to best navigate the new, but always familiar, waters. And so, I’ve been going back to the well of my favorite movies, books and music for comfort and clarity.

Frame & Canvas is a favorite. Braid is a favorite. As such, the record release of 20 years ago today is worth writing about.

On April 7, 1998, I was a freshman in college at UNLV. I was miserable. The whys and whats of why are too numerous and convoluted to get into here but I can tell you that overall, I felt stale.

I didn’t run out and buy Frame & Canvas on its release day. I don’t remember when I bought the CD but I remember that it did not leave its place in the 6-CD disk changer in my new Volkswagen Golf — my first car — for all of my sophomore year at school. I remember playing it at full volume with the windows down and the sunroof open as one of my sophomore year roommates, Matt Sandoval, and I drove to San Diego for a weekend on the beach. He was impressed with it. It sounded like nothing he’d ever heard before. He wanted more. So did I.

“So I’m told that Chicago’s cold. Can’t be cool as California.” — First Day Back

Braid wasn’t new to me. The released two albums (and a slew of singles and splits and compilations, etc.) but Braid hadn’t resonated with me until Frame & Canvas. The band’s third and final album — before the release of a two-volume compilation of singles and B-sides, and a temp-to-full-time reunion release 16 years later — was just the right mix of nuance that my sensitive, wannabe rockstar heart and ears required. I had even seen Braid perform the earlier stuff at Chicago’s Fireside Bowl several times when they shared the bill with my favorites at the time, The Promise Ring and The Get Up Kids to name two. (Those bands still rank among my favorites, and their albums remain in routine rotation on my turntable, in my iTunes and in my car.) After I completely absorbed every lyric, drum beat, guitar riff and bass line I could from Frame & Canvas, I dove into the older stuff. And now I loved it. All of it. I became a superfan.

Braid broke up in 1999. They went on a one-off reunion tour in 2004. I flew from Las Vegas to Detroit to see them open for Minus the Bear. I still have the ticket stub. It wasn my birthday weekend. It was fucking incredible.

But back to the record at hand…

The songs were about being in a state of certain uncertainty. A place of transition with the balls to step up and have no fear of fucking it all up. The songs were about girls and friends and getting older and being younger and parents and longing and having and missing and distance and places and things and giving a shit and not giving a shit at all.

“We’ve got a lot of great mistakes to make. We’ve a lot of chances to take, so let’s take our time and hurry.” — The New Nathan Detroits

Or that’s how I perceived them. What do I know? I didn’t write them, I only listened to them. It’s that old argument: What Does The Art Mean And Who Does It Mean It To? The album, front to back and back again was everything my tender Midwestern heart was feeling and everything my late teenage brain was thinking

Frame & Canvas was released at the end of my freshman year, but it was wholly consumed throughout my sophomore year. My sophomore year was the year when I was still sad but sick of being sad; bored but sick of being bored; interested but struggling to find something interesting. Throughout the album, there were lyrics that spoke to exactly what I was feeling or thinking, or needed to hear because I hadn’t thought of it that way. And certainly not with that shift in time signature or run down the frets.

It was my sophomore when I shook off the dust and salt and tried new things while staying evermore true to myself. That was the year college started to be enjoyable and life started to suck. That was the year my twenties began and a new, more confident, less afraid David emerged. I didn’t know what a Nathan Detroit was — I didn’t get the reference, but I couldn’t help to relate because there was something both familiar and new about this guy, Nathan. (I later, of course, realized that Nathan Detroit was a reference to the character from Guys and Dolls. The reference and connection still accurately applies.)

One of my longest standing and still best friends, Brian Wolff, once told me, “You treat lead singers like they’re great philosophers.” Yeah, I do. Fuck Socrates. Eat shit, Voltaire. Bite my dick, Angelou. Give me my Nanna, Broach, Portman, Schwartzenbach, Andriano…

I’m not alone in this, I know. Music matters. Bands matter. Singers and guitarists and bassists and drummers matter. They say and play what we want to say and play but can’t because we’re in our own way. And get this; there are bands for the bands, too. Everyone is inspired.

So, it’s 20 years later…

I’ve seen Braid perform live countless times at this point — considering all the times in high school at the Fireside, the reunion show, the quieter shows before the release of the new album in 2014 and the few since. And yeah, I own the VHS and DVD of Killing a Camera, the live performance documentary of the band’s swan song performances. I’m a fan. Superfan.

In the years since Frame & Canvas has been among us, the listening public, it has remained a constant source of companionship. Through girlfriends of distance, through missing my Midwestern roots while living my dear dessert life in Nevada, through being married...

“I can’t come home, I’m stuck in a phone booth again. But once in your arms, we’ll rise above the ground. You and me, and the beautiful aerial view… I’m never coming down.” — Collect from Clark Kent

A short departure for a story of a different tone, yet related…

When I was making my move from Las Vegas to Chicago during June of 2007, I stopped in Rock Springs, Wyoming. It was on the way and I had to pee. I also was jonesing for a small town beer. Preferably a draft. I found what I considered a local-enough tavern to piss and throw anchor in, and steered the VW into the small parking lot. I too my piss, drank my beer and scribbled in my notebook. Those writings are somewhere, actually close to me in a well-disheveled filing of notebooks in my desk just to the left of this very keyboard. I’ll spare you the contents of that bar top writing because it’s not good. At least not without music to it…

Point is, while I was drinking and writing, it dawned on me that Braid had recorded a song about Rock Springs, Wyoming. It’s called I Keep a Diary, and as I realized that, I recognized that was living out a song I loved. For I, too, was keeping a diary. Bonus: The date of the diary entry in that song is my wife’s birthday. How about that?

“Ten-ten, ninety-seven… Rock Springs, Wyoming hotel. As far as I can tell, I just don’t miss you anymore.” — I Keep a Diary

OK. So here we are, 20 years later. I embarked on my career, I poured through and over girlfriends, I bought a house with a pool, I lost my virginity, I bought a boat — sort of — I got married, I became a dad, I bought another VW Golf then a VW GTI, I got some cancer, I became a scotch drinker.

The thing about our formative years is that they’re always formative. We don’t grow out of who we were when we were angsty, emotional, needy, angry, confused, certain, brilliant, and dumb-as-fuck teenagers and twentysomethings. That is our base. All of us. That’s why our record collection, and collecting, caps out around the time between our teenage and late twenties years. Unless you’re a music critic or seriously committed to avoiding atrophy in spite of the certain emotional disappointment new music will bring your aging ass, this is true.

But Braid keeps on.

Never mind that the band got back together. Never mind what members went on to do in subsequent years. Never mind that Bob Nanna — guitarist and vocalist of Braid — went on to write — for hire — our wedding song. Yeah, it’s pretty fucking cool that my rock ‘n’ roll  emotional hero knows my dog’s name!

How does one reconcile fandom with heroism. I see these guys at shows… they are cool enough and real enough to be friends but incredible enough to pass me over as a passing piece of late ’90s and early 2000s dust. Except that we’re all part of the same thing… The Scene, the listening public. And wouldn’t you know it? My wife hired Braid’s lyricist to pen our wedding song.

Jesus Christ.

The frame… the canvas… it’s still so real and so important.

And if Bob, Todd, Chris, Damen or Roy happen to read this… Thanks. Next time I see you at some show in town, the drinks are on me.