In the Studio

These days, I often find that the kids absolutely love live music. A music fan should always appreciate, say, an accoustic or live version of a great song, especially when a good ban improvises or changes it. For example, a lot of live recordings of Jimi Hendrix are staggeringly good. Aside from their clarity, they often consist of some crowd noise, an intro from Hendrix, and then a string of rock without interruption. You can hear the man play, and any doubt of his talent goes away. The Who's Live at Leeds is another great disc, as the band goes apeshit on some songs, and are practically their own unique versions.

But sometimes live music has its own problems. Not when you are there usually, but if you are listening to it on CD. When you are at the show and the whole crowd is singing along with the lyrics, it is a damn good feeling, as everyone gets lost in the music. But go ahead and record that, taken completely out of the moment. Usually that doesn't sound too good to me, especially with a lot of the jam bands that college folks fawn over, where the singer sounds terribly lazy and/or stoned and the audience seems to do more singing than they do (John Mayer can also be placed here). I came to hear the performers show off their talents, not to hear how much of a fan you are. I'm not blaming fans for that, as I would be doing the same if I were with them at the show. But that's one reason why we go to the show, rather than listen to an album at your desk. There is a certain magic that comes from live performance, and trying to capture that on disc is impossible. Some would disagree, and so they continue to listen to really poor recordings and bask in the placebo affect.

What got me thinking about this were some musings on the opposite of the stage: the studio. When it comes to recording music, the studio can be a blessing and a curse. Some bands have used the technology and the variety of instruments one can fit into a studio and used them to great extent. Sgt. Pepper was recorded with a variety of experimental recording techniques, and the amazing drum sounds in When the Levee Breaks were made by placing John Bonham in the bottom of a stairwell. Also, while I'm not a huge fan of Radiohead, I appreciate some of the comments made about recording Kid A, where the band felt that the recording process involves so many different steps to get from mic to your speaker, that it is silly to say that the sounds of a recorded guitar are any more real than something generated electronically. In the end, it is all music, and we should not fear the studio if it means the sounds you hear were not naturally produced by a human plucking a string or hitting a key.

The dark side to this is that the studio can also destroy and deceive. Technology allows a smart studio to create an image around a person, and alter their voice into a perfect sound. It also allows engineers to participate in the so called "loudness war", where dynamic range is sacrificed in order to make songs louder. It can be difficult to determine what a performer can really do, or whehter certain affects were even their decision. What is genuine, what was cobbled together? Maybe we are missing out on some rich sounds? Because of these issues, more and more people seem to be afraid of studio music. I feel torn about the issue; as a lover of technology, I recognize the benefits and dangers of it, but I do not feel like innovation should be held back by an insistence on analog, vinyl, and everything in between. When it comes to music, the importance is how it sounds, more than how the sound got there.

Post holiday slag

It was a lot of moving, but we have a new roomate in the house. Having three bachelors in the house should either be fun or miserable. I'll let you know in six months.

I have been tuned into the concept of the "Bro" subculture. Apparently this terminology has been in use among the kids for a while. For some reason, folks my age used the term douchebag for the popped collar, hemp neckalce wannabe frat boys of the world. Bro is a better indication of their lifestyle however, leaving douchebag free as a general insult once again.

I find these morons fascinating, and could write a whole blog post about them, but who wants that? Instead I will just remark that Bros, unlike some of the frat members of old, aren't particularly good at anything, and seem to live their life because rich parents of today don't push their children to follow in dad's success. Also, the Bros would rather not admit they are in high society, which causes them to take working-class culture and bastardize it in an attempt to be "just one of the guys". Meanwhile they are still free to practice the racism and apathy that comes with their true position in the world.

The Mets are particularly despicable as of late. I stopped talking about them because they became unexciting early. That is not to say I stopped watching (the boxscore) each night, but you don't need to hear how they lost or barely won every day.

What frustrates about this team is how there is no accountability. Players perform awfully, the manager makes boneheaded decisions, and all we here about is how they need to win games, get a good streak going. It never happens, and no one seems to be looking for ways to make it happen. They all seem to think it will drop out of the sky. Few of them get angry, few of them take true responsibility. Half the team should be benched right now, just to show them what happens when they play to collect their paycheck and nothing more.

We don't desrve this play, or the cookie cutter excuses that come with it. How long can we last like this?

Cruminess

I finally saw V for Vendetta in its entirety this week. Every bit and piece I saw before bugged me, but as a whole I'm almost afraid of how popular this film is. For one, I now know that the excuse that it is at the very least a good action film is a poor one. There are few fight scenes, and they all end very quickly. So all we are left with is the political angle, and that is what bothers me.

I'll use the quote from Alan Moore himself, as it sums it all up quicker than I could in this blog:

[The movie] has been "turned into a Bush-era parable by people too timid to set a political satire in their own country… It's a thwarted and frustrated and largely impotent American liberal fantasy of someone with American liberal values standing up against a state run by neoconservatives—which is not what the comic V for Vendetta was about. It was about fascism, it was about anarchy, it was about England

And yet I know so many young people who think their eyes are opened from this film, as if they are not one of the sheep. They don't look at the destruction of Parliament in horror, and I think they should. The building is a symbol of Republic, and their is no indication that the government of the film is using it for its own twisted means. Rather than the people using it as a symbol of hope, they watch it explode. If another nation's film blew up the Capitol building in the same context, would we be so happy? Chalk one up to all the world conscious Gen Y'ers.

This film is too easy. Its themes are too obvious, and no one should be pointing to it as a way to awaken others minds. If people don't know the problems in the nation today, the better thing would be for you to explain it to them. And I cannot emphasize how sad the ending is. That the only time us modern day pukes will protest is under the mask of anonymity, when we know that we can't be singled out and pinned down. Because we are too spineless to admit we stood behind a cause. I'd like to see hipster 20 somethings (or anyone else) protest against armed guards. It wasn't long ago when many blacks still alive today did just that.

More Music Ramblings

More music talk to bother you all with.

Much was said about the great experiment that was In Rainbows by Radiohead, how it made a ton of money with its "pay as you want" online price scheme. I find myself confused at the business side of the album - I haven't listened to it, and thus won't judge its quality.

What I mean by the business side is twofold. First, if I recall correctly, the band has stated that they likely won't release another album in this style; it was merely an experiment. I suppose this is part of their style - do something amazing and new and crazy, and then move on to the next thing. But it still bothers me, as it suggests they really don't care about changing the industry as much as they wish to outdo everyone else in order to keep their crown as Band the Hipsters Can't Ever Hate.

This was reinforced in me when I saw the album in a store. All it consisted of was a cardboard sleeve, the kind that looks like something your PC Gamer demo disc comes in. No real jewel case, and it isn't the nice foldout cardboard cases that Millencolin has been apt to using. Just a cheap sleeve. Oh, but the tracklisting on the back uses crazy letter spacing. Quirky +2. I suppose the retail version was never the focus, and so it didn't warrant any attnetion to how it was presented. But, as I find myself collecting more and more physical music, I like being able to keep it in something a little less flimsy. This shows just how little we regard physical media compared to digital downloads, which really doesn't have to be. CD prices and quality have affected the industry, but that is not the fault of the albums themselves.

Meanwhile, as Radiohead goes with stunts, Nine Inch Nails continues to explore various release formats for their music, both digital and non. Ghosts I-IV can be downloaded, but it was also released in a nice CD format, and even on vinyl. Their belief in giving fans options, and putting effort and craft into everything they produce speaks volumes more to me, even if I don't really listen to their music.

I keep going back to this list of the greatest rock artists, and every time I learn a little more. I love the idea behind it, but what I am learning is just how out of touch Rolling Stone and others in the modern music industry are. Everyone is going to have bands they would like to see on the list - Queen and Pink Floyd come up most in the article comments, and I would at least agree to Floyd being a neccessity. What bugs me more is their insistence on putting talents from other genres on the list. Dr. Dre is not rock. Neither is Eminem. The fact that Britney Spears wrote the excerpt about Madonna is enough proof to say she isn't rock. By putting them on this list, as opposed to a list of great rappers, allows glaring ommisions like Floyd to exist.

Also, the list has some clear biases, some of which I agree with, though I don't credit it to RS being smart. There is little in the way of prog. rock on the list, and pretty much none of the stadium rock of the 70's. The former is why Floyd fans are up in arms, and I agree with the latter. I cannot deny an enjoyment of bands like Boston, Journey and Foreigner, but they have never inspired or moved me, and a lot of output from that era is unlistenable to me (see Kansas), or can only stand so many repeated listenings before I need a break.

Musica

In a growing trend, I find myself continuing to buy CDs, at a pace of at least one a month. For almost ten years of my life I owned less than ten CDs. I'm on track to buy that many by year's end.

I have been fascinated in observing my own musical habits over the years. When I was a child, my only options for music were oldies when in the car, and my collection of Beach Boys cassettes when I was home. It never dawned on me that I might be missing out on a who world of music until 1959 or so. I remember going to Hershey park, and the only cassettes I had were the soundtrack to Kokomo, and Ninja Turtles Comin' out of Their Shells. I was distracting my parents by singing about Pizza Power while they tried to find their way.


And what were my peers doing? Listening to Insomniac, while Dookie was already a year old. If you aren't laughing yet, you will when I remind you that I am being dead fucking serious about this.

If you want to know, it was a combination of things - sheltered childhood, overprotective parents who didn't allow music with curse words in the house, and my own shyness and lack of money with which to buy new music. This situation didn't get better until the end of high school. Before then, out of the handful of CDs I owned, the only one I was proud to have (and still keep actually) was The Beach Boys Endless Summer. The rest I would rather forget about. By senior year I had at least discovered Millencolin, and the rest would follow after that.

In college, I was flooded with new bands and styles to listen to, mostly indie, but not always. I inhaled it all not through P2P networks, but through combing through my friends' album binders and ripping any CD that looked promising. At one point I had the soundtrack to E.T. I still don't know why. I have almost no music from this phase, as somewhere along the line I realized that just because I had enough harddrive space, didn't mean I needed to keep around so much junk, especially when I didn't make playlists. It was still important in helping me realize that I didn't like groups like Something Corporate, Our Lady Peace, Brand New and The Starting Line. I also learned not to rely on college girls for good rock and alternative.

These formative years made me realize just how much I loved classic rock, which is the phase I am still currently in. I don't want to say I believe that everything went to shit after Nirvana, but you might infer that if you looked at my tunes. If I had to take a stab at what keeps me away from most modern music, I would take a wild guess and claim that music changed greatly right around the time when a new band would put their first album on CD. The craft of putting together album artwork, an A and a B side all vanished.

But let's move on - it is my love of classic rock that helped me appreciate good albums, and this in turn is what caused me to buy more music. With seemingly few good albums during my teenage years, I never felt compelled to lay down 15 dollars when I only knew one song on the disc. This fear was confirmed whenever my brother bought some junky pop star's disc and everything outside of the single was derivative. When P2P and online music sales became prominent, the solution seemed apparent, but not for me. By the time I ever tried P2P, finding a good quality single track was impossible, and without an iPod I had little use for DRM'ed Itunes tracks. Classic rock offered the solution. When I realized I knew every song on Zeppelin IV, there was no doubt about whether it would be a worthy purchase. When it came to the Beatles, I knew less of their later era music, so buying Sgt. Pepper was a bit risky. But sure enough I grew into it, and now buying a Beatles album is a no brainer. It isn't a matter of "do I want it", but "do I want it now, or is there something else more pressing to buy?" Suffice to say it is a good feeling, to know that I can pick up a band's 60s/70s/80s era album without worrying about whether I will love the shit out of it.

And how has it changed me? I know some people that have longed claimed that The Beatles "1" album is either the only thing you need from the band, or the best Greatest Hits album ever made. I once agreed with them. Now I don't understand them. It can't be "all you need" when the disc skips over the entirety of Sgt. Pepper. It has the Ballad of John and Yoko for crisssake. No one listens to that anymore (what can I say, people did crazy things when doing drugs). 1 is simply a cd of number one singles, which is hardly a barometer considering how much of the band is defined by their albums. Now, there's no such thing for me as playing Hello Goodbye in a random party mix. Without the last five tracks of Magical Mystery Tour, the song feels naked. If I try and play just one track, I end up hearing half the album before I realize it. Right now, this is just a damn good way to listen to music.

So my collection will continue to grow, and I will continue to take well calculated risks. Those of you over 25 will snicker (or just shake your head) at the fact that I am just now listening to Doolittle. Bear with me - I'd still like to think I've come a long way from Pizza Power. As a matter of fact, I have - I've caught up with decades of music in the last five years, to the point where I can out quiz most peers about anything that pops up on the radio. Scary.

Ninja?

No, this isn't a thread about cliche ninja jokes. Yesterday I stopped at my favorite Gamestop in Maryland, which may seem like an oxymoron, but I promise is true. The reason for this is that it has had the same manager since I was in college, and he seems to run a damn tight ship. Back in school, I could get new games without preorder. I got the Tekken arcade stick with game for $30. I could have gotten Symphony of the Night for $25, but that no longer matters. They never bug you for reserves at checkout, the rarest games are often there, and they're always in good condition. Well, except for that copy of Tony Hawk's Underground, but they let my return it and pick which replacement disc I actually wanted to go home with.

Anyway, while I was there I felt compelled to buy something. True enough, I got Shinobi and Nightshade for $12 total, each disc in good shape, and each with instruction manuals. A bit rare for sub $10 games, but all the more worth it.

Anyway, back to Shinobi. Among the 3d action genre post-Devil May Cry, it is one of the most forgotten. This puts the game in fine company, along with titles like Gungrave Overdose and God Hand. However, with most games in the "action graveyard", I can think of a few good reasons for their lack of success. Gungrave was an unknown entity, and probably scared off some players with its anime stylings. Overdose was also $15, which is the kind of budget price that can give the wrong impression. As for God Hand, there were too many people slobbering over Okami to give a look at Clover's final game, and God Hand requires an actual understanding of beat 'em ups to enjoy its simple yet elegant system.


But what happened to Shinobi? The game is the resurrection of a classic series that many a gamer has fond memories of. Just like Ninja Gaiden. It features a new character taking the place of the old hero, wearing a sleek modern outfit. Just like Ninja Gaiden. It combines ninja acrobatics with very difficult combat.

Just like Ninja Gaiden!

When I saw NG's use of multicolored orbs to replenish health, magic and money, I knew Tecmo was taking a clear cue from Onimusha and Devil May Cry, but I never realized just how much of their re imagining of Ninja Gaiden mirrors Shinobi, which came out two years prior. If wikipedia's history of development is accurate, the many shifts in NG's creation would make it feasible for Shinobi to be a source of inspiration. Or should I say blatant copying.

Do not take this as me being bitter. Even if I end up enjoying Shinobi, I don't see it being better than Ninja Gaiden. I tr and recognize originals, but I am not about to laud them as superior in an attempt to seem hardcore and edgy. The point of all this is that Shinobi had many of the same pieces that its more successful rival did, right down to the finicky wall running mechanics. The reason that one soared and the other stalled probably has to do with what they did not have in common. Shinobi was considered graphically competent at its time of release, but certainly not a powerhouse. The game is focused on delivering the same linear progression from level to boss as its predecessors. It is a modern look at an old school game.

Ninja Gaiden on the other hand is still a showcase for the power of the Xbox. It was a technical marvel, offering slick graphic and smooth animations. It looks stylish and gory, giving players a reason to improve beyond getting to the end of the stage. It offered multiple weapons to master, rather than relying on the same sword/shuriken/magic combo of old. NG also opted for open environments and rudimentary lock/key puzzles, which gave players an added sense of depth, even if it is somewhat unnecessary. All of these qualities can also be found in Devil May Cry and God of War, the other two powerhouse action franchises. The lesson here is that no matter how challenging or deep your game is, it has to look and feel just as sharp in order to get people's attention. Ninja Gaiden was able to do that, thus it has some mainstream recognition.

Which just goes to show you that most people who say they don't care about such silly things like polish and graphics are probably lying.

Update: Played some more Shinobi. I think I also know why the game couldn't aspire to much. It is a good challenge, at least when aiming for speed and accuracy, but Devil May Cry looked better and had deeper combat a year before. It is a little too stuck to its old school roots, whereas NG tried to reinvent itself based on the formula laid down by DMC. Shinobi has its own drum to beat to, one that not every gamer is going to care for.

Millencolin - Machine 15

Machine 15, the new album by my favorite band Millencolin is out, and I have shocked myself by not buying it immediately. As the band that help me break out of musical limbo, I have had an unwavering devotion to their new releases - it was never a matter of 'if' or 'when'. This time however, I got to listen to it in its entirety on their Myspace, and that was all I needed to know the album wasn't up to snuff.

It isn't easy for me to say that, but on the other hand, it makes sense. As the album name implies, the band is 15 years old now, which is ancient by just about any standard. Sure there are old bands from the 60's that are still touring to this day, but how many of them have put out new and relevant material? How many of the most famous bands from the 90's to today have lasted that long while producing quality music? It is rare, and so it seems only natural if MC is on the decline.

While every band has problems for different reasons, MC's seems to be directly related to their age. That is, they'er older, and this is affecting their work. Nikola's lyrics have gotten more and more serious post-Pennybridge, which led to some fantastic, edgier stuff on Home From Home. But it seems he is brought the mentality he uses with his solo work to Machine 15. His solo albums are filled with sappy love songs that tread the same tropes and themes we have heard a million times. It made me realize that he can be a lot weaker as a lyricist than I previously thought, at least when he isn't focusing on the wacky, more youthful topics of classic MC tunes. When bringing this sappy flavor into Machine 15, we are left with lyrics that sound awkward and obvious. They take you out of the song and almost make you cringe.

Worst yet is that there are a few fantastic tracks. Brand New Game is a clever retrospective on the band that name drops a lot of their past songs and will test your MC knowledge. Detox is their required catchy single, though this time there doesn't seem to be much else with a similar tone on the album.

I'll get around to Machine 15 some day, but it doesn't make me hopeful for the future. Nikola must find his inner teenager; if the band can take its wild and carefree lyrics of the past and combine them with their musical prowess as adults, we could be in for a treat. On the other hand, you could say that the Kingwood album was exactly that. Maybe it really is time for MC to wind down.