Radio Deliver Me From Nowhere

I’ve been listening to the radio for the first time in years. Specifically, I’ve been playing New York’s new rock station, 101.9 WRXP. It’s a reasonably interesting concept – a mixture of classic rock and indie rock/alternative. (Thankfully, the classic rock played so far hasn’t been that predictable.) Certainly, it’s the only station I’ve ever heard where the Hold Steady follows Billy Joel and Ra Ra Riot follows the Rolling Stones. It’s not a Jack-FM concept (radio as iPod) – it’s a simply a station that makes the claim that rock is a long continuum, one in which pre-punk and post-punk rock can live harmoniously with one another.

Unfortunately, it’s a continuum that excludes great soul and r&b. Following a decades old tradition, the number of black artists recurrently played on rock radio amounts to one – Jimi Hendrix. It’s too predictable to be dispiriting – but the station would sound a hell of a lot better with some James Brown, P-Funk, Marvin Gaye and Al Green.

That being said, I’ve been enjoying hearing the juxtaposition of newer artists next to the classic rockers. What jumps out at me when listening to the new stuff is that they don’t seem to be writing singles. Perhaps it is because for most of the indie bands (American ones more so than British ones), being on commercial radio is never even seen as a possibility. But while most of the new stuff sounds good and has a cool vibe, it doesn’t leap out of the speakers, make you stop what you’re doing and wonder, “Who IS that?”

There’s one exception: The Hold Steady’s “Sequestered In Memphis.” I’m still not quite sold like others are on their new album, but the vibrancy of the song jumps out of the radio and has me turn it up every time. In a never-ending era of detachment and cool, Craig Finn and company’s passion remind that there’s still a vociferous crew of people out there that still feel about music the way I do.

Some Worthy Reading

Another year, another CMJ, another four nights of me standing in clubs wondering what the hell the big deal is about buzz band _______. No matter, for this is not a post about me whining about my incomprehension at the continued ascendancy of indie rock. That's because I've got an article for you to read that sums it up much better than I could. It's Sasha Frere-Jones' piece in this week's New Yorker about indie's lack of soul. It's sure to cause a major (mostly negative) reaction in the blogosphere, as indie is dis-proportionally influential in media circles, and here is one reaction from Slate, which I enjoyed as well.

I especially admired Jones' willingness to slaughter some sacred cows that, well, needed some slaughtering. Espeically Yankee Hotel Foxtrot.

Fun With Cliches

I'm writing this from a cafe in Williamsburg, one of Brooklyn's meccas of hipsterdom. I just finished a meeting and have a little time to kill before my next one...EVERYONE in this cafe has a Mac. Literally. Twelve computers, all Macs, including mine. Steve Jobs would kvell.

One of the things I love about iTunes is that if I can see what music people have on their computer if we're sharing the same network. An iTunes network named "Professor Esser" just showed up. So I'm checking it out as I write, and I'll be damned if it isn't the most "Willamsburg" collection of stuff I've ever seen in my life. I mean, it's right out of central casting:

Pavement: check (whole catalog)
Devendra Banhart: check (3 albums)
Animal Collective: check (3 albums)
The National: check (3 albums)
Modest Mouse: check (3 albums)
Architecture In Helsinki: check
Deerhoof: check (3 albums)

Then there's the "Pop I love ironically" section:

Ace of Base: check ("The Sign")
Barry Manilow: check ("Copacabana")
Backstreet Boys: check ("I Want It That Way")
Belinda Carlisle: check ("Heaven Is A Place On Earth")

And of course, there's the classic rock section:

David Bowie: check (9 albums)
Lou Reed: check (3 albums)
Iggy & The Stooges (5 albums - 3 Stooges, 2 Iggy)
Beach Boys Pet Sounds: check
1st two Elvis Costello albums: check

And finally, what would a music collection be without a little comedy?

David Cross: check (3 albums)

No Stones, Springsteen, Aretha, Otis or James.

I'm not really making fun. Ok, maybe I am, a little. It's not that the above artists aren't worthwhile. It's that it's a cliche of the music taste of a hipster come to life. I guess the thing about cliches is that they're sometime true.