What has my life turned into? I'm still trying to figure that out myself. While I'm trying pinpoint the cause and cure for my insomnia, I'd like to contemplate/spam you. Hope you don't mind all that much.
As an avid jazz lover who grew up with Miles Davis and John Coltrane, the state of jazz music today makes me a bit disheartened. With New York's only smooth jazz station going under last year, the controversy surrounding Herbie Hancock's win for Best Album at the 2008 Grammys, the Weather Channel reformatting their Local on the 8s soundtrack from smooth jazz to rock, and jazz artists discussing the siege of their genre, less and less people are getting turned onto it as time goes on. While jazz used to have the reputation of pulling directly at heartstrings with heavy use of the brass section (saxophone, trumpet) and instrumentals, now younger people are connecting more with crass hip-hop and empty rock and roll lyrics. All of this bad news makes me think that one of my favorite musical categories is going to end up with a grim future. Is this really going to be the case? If there's a way, how can the music industry draw people back into the world of jazz?
I think the reason why our generation isn't connecting to jazz as much as our parents or grandparents is because, aside from the amount of diverse music we have nowadays, is that we don't really have many jazz artists we can relate to. The youth of today often compare jazz to elevator music, music our parents like to listen to on car rides or the weak pieces we had to play or listen to in high school music classes. For the most part, our exposure to this sort of music has been mediocre at best, so no wonder only a small percentage of people aged 18 to 34 like jazz. In order to draw a more youthful audience to jazz, there needs to be a good representative for the genre. That representative needs to have charisma and talent, and should have the gift to correlate different styles of music with jazz.
The man who best exemplifies all of the above is Brit Jamie Cullum. Releasing his first studio album, Pointless Nostalgia in 2001 and his latest, The Pursuit, this month, Cullum has become the United Kingdom's biggest selling jazz artist of all time. While he often sings updated takes on standard classics, he also likes to sing covers of more modern songs, such as Pharrell Williams' "Frontin'" and Radiohead's "High and Dry". His energetic showmanship, cool demeanor and fashionable style make him relatable to the younger generation, despite the fact that he plays an older style of music.
If it takes a physical change to get ears to listen to jazz, then so. If the artist's music is just as decent as his style of dress, that makes things a lot better. The kids will take anybody who looks good seriously nowadays, though. Luckily an artist such as Cullum, who has both the look and the talent, draws in listeners from both the jazz world and the VH1 crowd. Should more jazz artists cross over as well as he, the jazz industry as a whole would be in a lot less danger from extinction.
Some people are bad for your health. To dwindle that down, some celebrities are lethal, in terms of fierceness and actual physical effects. While some feared getting stabbed by Madonna's cone bras or crushed to death at a Pearl Jam concert, everyone is overlooking one of music's most dynamic artist on the scene today; Lady Gaga. After many sources reporting that photographer A.J. Sokalner died from a heart attack after photographing Gaga at an event in New York City, one has to wonder how else this ferocious diva can affect a seemingly normal, healthy person. Let's investigate.
Firstly, one can become obsessed with Lady Gaga in a very short period of time. From the first or second listen, Lady Gaga's debut album 'The Fame' sticks to listeners. Whether they like to admit it or not, everybody has a soft spot from her. Young girls want to dress up in her high-cut leotards, the gay community religiously follow her after she declared her love for them, and even celebrities such as Miley Cyrus and X Factor judge Cheryl Cole admit their infatuation for her. Celebrity obsession is a dangerous thing, however. What can start out as an innocent admiration (a mild affliction) can turn into intensive, compulsive feelings where one feels he is truly connected to the soul of Lady Gaga. When this goes too far, one can no longer control his thoughts on Lady Gaga, which can drive him to depression or anxiety.
Secondly, Lady Gaga can influence one to do not-so-innocent things. The Gaga is not one to be modest, in terms of dress or conversation. She has openly declared her disdain for pants, calling them 'uncomfortable' and 'not sexy'. Before hitting it big, the singer danced in burlesque clubs to earn a living and ordered tons of cocaine while perfecting her look all day in her apartment. She sings openly about her sexuality in many of her songs, and candidly discusses it during interviews. Since the performer is everywhere nowadays and is a very popular force in pop culture, many young people look up to her. They see the Gaga as socially desirable, so a lot of growing girls want to follow her lifestyle, even though it is not the purest. While the pop singer's goal is not to be a role model, and although she may or may not have as much influence on girls as imagined, girls will follow anything that's cool. That may not be a good sign for parents. The parental figures better take a close look at whether their babies are wearing pants when leaving the house.
Finally, Lady Gaga can cause wildfires with her chest. There is even proof of this, so best beware:
Note: This was cross-posted to my blog for my Online Journalism class. Hope my professor is proud!
I haven’t written a real entry in a long while. College and work and personal issues have bombarded me and left me with no real time to contemplate a lot. I’m finally writing again for two reasons:
I have finally been inspired. Took me long enough, Jeebus.
Many people have forced me to write again. I’m glad I have a bit of a fan base.
Usually I mention how I feel about shows. I know I’ve definitely been to a few great ones this year. I kid you not; the show I went to last night was absolute madness. It reminded me of why I started to love music in the first place, and why I secretly want to be a front [wo]man in a truly great band.
The main band in this truly triumphant night was The Airborne Toxic Event. Aside from having their one ‘major’ single/video “Sometime Around Midnight” looping on VH1 earlier this year, they’re not really widely known to the public. T.A.T.E. was highlighted in Rolling Stone in 2006 as one of the Top 25 bands on MySpace, and was one of the breakout acts at the CMJ Music Festival in 2006 and 2007. Nowadays they are known for being one of L.A.’s biggest rock acts, and their popularity is starting to become widespread. Their two shows at Webster Hall were sold out, so it’s obvious New York loves them. Luckily, my friend Chaz and I managed to get right up front and center, which will lead to many benefits during the night.
The first opening act, Red Cortez, instantly drew me into their work. Their overall sound reminds me strongly of an Americanized Razorlight with frontman Harley Prectel-Cortez having vocals resembling Arctic Monkeys’ Alex Turner. So, I guess they’re a better version of a lot of British rock bands. Their material is definitely worth checking out, but that wasn’t the most memorable part of their performance. At the end of their set, Harley takes off his All-Access pass and hands it to me, then does a writing gesture on his hand. I assume I was supposed to give him my number? I wouldn’t know. I didn’t have a pen on me, anyway. Flattering, though. I’m glad I’m lead singer material.
The Henry Clay People came on next, and they were just as great as Red Cortez. I knew I heard one of their songs around before, and I just realized this morning that one of their songs was featured on an episode of Gossip Girl. Go figure. They come on stage and they’re probably the nerdiest looking band I’ve seen in a while. However, the men can really rock out in their plaid. While their music was quality, they were really good due to the fact that they were just having a good time on stage. They also did a spectacular cover of Mott the Hoople’s “All The Young Dudes” with Red Cortez. Chaz called that someone would sing that song during the night, so I was amazed that that actually happened. Good taste, men, good taste.
Sometime around 9:15, The Airborne Toxic Event strutted on stage, and their confidence showed both in appearance and performance. The quintet, composed of vocalist Mikel Jollett, guitarist Steven Chen, bassist Noah Harmon, drummer with an impressive ‘stache Daren Taylor, and cutely dressed violinist/tambourinist Anna Bulbrook, had a set list that included all of their songs from their self-titled debut, along with some brand new untitled songs. As if I couldn’t love these guys more, it turned out that T.A.T.E. sounds a lot better live. Jollett’s vocals are extremely rich and unique, which some people may not like. Despite his youngish age (34), he is an old soul who seems to have been through a lot. Harmon’s bass skills are beyond skilled to the point where he could effortlessly play with a violin bow. As the sole female on stage all night, Bulbrook stood out with her ability to effortlessly play the violin while rocking out with the bad boys.
I didn’t think my night would get better than it was, but it did when Jollett sat a foot away from me to play acoustically. Literally, I was at the point where I could touch his guitar without moving my arm. He played two songs, an untitled new joint and “Wishing Well”, which was absolutely beautiful. The rest of their set list was done flawlessly, particularly my favorite song from them, “Papillon”. Their encore set was absolutely sick. They started with “Happiness Is Overrated” and ended with a long edition of “Missy”. However, sandwiched in between the two was a punk classic by the late Jim Carroll, “People Who Died”. Red Cortez and The Harry Clay People joined them on stage for this, and a riot ensued. Heineken and expensive Jameson was sprayed on band mates and into the crowd (I ended up smelling like cheap white trash when I got out of the venue and had to ride the subway back to my apartment) and Jollett jumped on the barricade right in front of me so he could get close to the audience. I’m happy to report that I did get to touch the sexiness that is he. Oh, also, the video is posted below, courtesy of Chaz.
Concerts like this don’t happen too often. Hell, quintessential New York nights like this don’t happen this often. I’m proud to say that I’ve had a true memorable musical night. I highly doubt that never again will I earn a backstage pass without trying or get drenched in expensive liquor for a long while. All that I know for sure is that this topped the night where I moshed with P. Diddy.
When I think about my future, I typically focus on the things that I want to be and do. They’re relatively normal goals; be a rockstar journalist, have a house with a balcony on the water, obtain a husband who looks good in a tight t-shirt and blazer, and perhaps adopt a few dogs or a black baby. It’ll be the relatively low-key life I want, but I’m not going to be a bore. I do intend to have a good time.
I went to The Cult at Terminal 5 on Friday night, where my friend Chaz and I were surrounded by an array of concertgoers. Old bikers with worn-out bandanas, middle-aged groupies, sexually frustrated husbands who were physically unable to keep their bodies off said groupies, tired frat boys who can’t help but take off their shirts and pummel their sweaty bodies onto my face, and the usual scatterings of the average music lover who just need a good night out composed the crowd. Of course, we were the youngest ones there. Being surrounded by all of these rowdy people, it makes me want to take qualities that each of these people had and become one immense mid-life-crisis-aged music lover.
Except I won’t be as slutty as a groupie. I’ll also keep most of my clothes on.
I’ve never been good with surgeries. I’ve had a problematic body ever since I came out of the womb. My surgeries run from having the inside of my nose reconstructed from the inside (although I still have a deviated septum, which will result in a nose job sometime soon) to getting a spinal tap due to the possibility of meningitis when I was about eight months old. All in all, my surgeries usually cause more immediate damage. This was the same case when I got my wisdom teeth pulled yesterday.
When I walked into the oral surgeon’s office, I expected only two wisdom teeth to be taken out. That was not the case when I wake up from my anesthesia.I wake up with blood dripping from my mouth and unable to walk to my car. It was like I got drunk off too much tequila and took some acid at the same time. I don’t remember the drive back home, but I do recall lying on my bathroom floor for a while because I couldn’t properly stand. Eventually, I got into decent shape and my mom told me what happened.
The oral surgeon didn’t tell me, but he told my mom that he’d be taking out all four wisdom teeth, despite the lower two teeth had not grown in yet. This perturbed my mom, and both my mom and dad expected some hardships with this procedure. This was the case, because I wasn't breathing for a time while under anesthesia. I expect this to be a bit of a problem. That shouldn’t happen, right?
I blame someone at work for jinxing me, and also for inspiring me to give me a reason to post. For your troubles, I offer some songs on pain. Or the supernatural. Or dying. Not that I would’ve died while getting my wisdom teeth taken out. But, you never know.
FYI: I put up a picture of Jennifer Coolidge because that's how I looked yesterday. Good times.
Sometimes I think to myself that, at the ripe age of twenty, I might be too old for intense concerts. In between Modey Lemon and the Arctic Monkeys sets, my surroundings at Highline Ballroom began to overwhelm me. I’m already accustomed to the amount of pushing and overcrowding within a rock crowd. For some reason, I couldn’t handle the teenagers last night. It’s a known fact that high schoolers are kind of annoying. The combination of someone’s lack of personal hygiene, another girl’s Rapunzel-like hair ending up in my mouth and the wave of those needing pictures of the roadies setting up the stage made me a bit enraged. I was oh-so close to losing it and moving towards the back of the venue. Just in the nick of time, Sean ‘Diddy’ Combs parted the crowd like the Red Sea.
Who would’ve thought that Diddy would redeem an entire concert for me? We’ll get to that part in a bit.
The opening band, Modey Lemon, set the mood for the Monkeys with their high-energy performance. Appearance wise, they were a bit mismatched. Singer/synthesizer Jason Kirker was wearing a sweater vest, while guitarist Paul Boyd resembled a 90’s grunger and drummer Paul Quattrone looked like he was soaked in blood. What lacked in their lack of coordinated outfits was forgotten with their strong garage-based set. They were naturals on stage, and they knew exactly where to position their fingers on their instruments with their eyes closed. While it wasn’t entirely necessary to have their final song become a 15-minute jam session, seeing how much effort they put into their craft is much appreciated.
Arctic Monkeys’ twenty-song set was full of instrumental highs and technical lows. They had some sound and guitar difficulties scattered throughout their 80-minute set. Lead man Alex Turner jokingly brushed off the troubles. Playing a good assortment of songs from past and present (their latest release, Humbug), surprisingly muscular Turner, guitarist Jamie Cook, bassist Nick O’Malley and drummer Matt Helders brought their ‘A’ game to the states. Crowd-pleasers such as ‘Brianstorm’ and ‘I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor’ made the floor shake, and lighters and cell-phone lights were brought out during slower tunes such as ‘My Propeller’. However, the rambunctious crowd reminded me of piglets running amuck in their pigpen. The crowd was a mess, and it made me a bit sick. I thought that they could possibly ruin this experience, the night I’ve been anticipating for at least a month, for me.
Cue to Diddy splitting the crowd with his sumo bodyguard with him. When he first appeared in the balcony with his posse, I expected him to stay put up there all night. However, I don’t know what provoked him to get into this crowd, but it was like he wanted to experience the music that night. He got in deep and plopped himself next to me. It didn’t hit me that I was touching arms with him until I looked over and literally saw his Proactiv-treated face right next to me. I had to embrace the moment. I moshed with him until I lost him during ‘Potion Approaching’.
With people lining up in front of the venue since the morning (luckily, the kids who got to Highline at 5 AM managed to score some last minute tickets), this show was the concert of the summer for some. While both Arctic Monkeys and Modey Lemon had extraordinary sets, the crowd was on the verge of ruining my experience. I can thank Mr. Combs for redeeming my night and making it an experience I’ll never forget.
