Since part of my job description is to offer my opinion on music and art, I get on people's bad side a lot. And, as I am of the opinion that the majority of popular music and art is watered-down and those who like it have no taste, I get on people's bad side a lot more often than I probably need to.
This really bugs me. Not the getting hate mail part (I squeal with delight whenever I see a letter to the editor slagging me,) but the fact that these same people who are so apathetic to the local music scene and the promotion of quality artists turn around and act as though they've sworn a blood oath to stand up for a major-label band churning out by-the-numbers music free of passion or individuality.
Some pop star puts out a boring album and I say so, but you'd think I stomped into the listener's home, slapped their mother, then made their puppy cry. I understand people grow very attached to their art. I can admit I might have a raised eyebrow and harsh words for anyone who would say Dylan can't write or Hendrix can't play.
It's when people whine that I've been mean to Fergie that I get confused.
I recently got a double-dose of this on Monday, when two letters were published about my review of the recent Angels and Airwaves gig at the BJC. (To recap what I said: I personally hate all of their fans and am glad for all the personal suffering Tom DeLonge has endured in his life.)
On one hand, as always, I was excited to see that people read my stuff and cared enough to compliment it. On the other hand, it was a lousy gig by a mediocre band, and I panned it thusly. Yet people are up in arms about it. I try my best to mix my criticism with solutions and pointing in better directions: I support local bands, I highlight albums I enjoy, etc. But I get the same tired "oh, man, everyone there liked it, just shut up" e-mails. As if it's the job of a critic to just regurgitate what the fans think.
I'm glad that people at least cared enough to buy tickets to a rock concert, but I'm sad that standards have fallen so low that people are praising the weak show. Maybe if the average student here put a sliver of the energy they spend into defending tripe into searching out better music, they would't have to settle.
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Emerging venues
As of today, November 15 2006, it's been exactly six months since Crowbar closed. I still remember the sting I felt at the news, especially my outrage at the bogus rationale.
They cited "influences from other, larger venues within Crowbar’s market area" as the reason for their close.
Well, it's November, and almost half a year later these new venues haven't really showed up. If you're not going to a big BJC show, your options are kept pretty small and local. As much as I enjoy and appreciate the shows put on at Dragon Chasers, the Tall Shiva Hookah Lounge and other locations, they do not have the capacity to draw bigger acts that Crowbar did. I don't think one hundred kids hitting the occasional all-ages Roustabout! was really siphoning off that much revenue from a venue that could book Hawthorne Heights.
But analyzing the incompetence at Crowbar will not do. It's gone, and that's that. The Cell Block, so far, has put more emphasis on the club aspect of the venue. From talking to people who've seen the Erie and Williamsport locations, I understand this is probably not going to change much.
This is unfortunate. It's in a great location, has the right capacity and would still have a lot of the fanbase that was familiar with going to Crowbar shows. It would be nice to see them give booking more shows a try (preferably someone who didn't peak in the 80's,) but there's no use holding your breath.
There are two up-and-coming venues on the horizon to watch though. The first is Lulu's Nightstop (renamed from Club Love, which evidently was a bit too masculine.) They had Shooter Jennings last night, the Drive-By Truckers earlier in the year, and State Radio is coming up with locals Cloverleaf as openers. It's not a lot of shows to judge them by, but it's a step in the right direction.
I think the shows are 21+, which is a huge downfall that really hurts. Eddie Money at the Cell Block was 21+ and packed the house, but I think that can be written off by realizing that most people who wanted to go either listened to Money in his prime, or had to be drunk enough to forget the guy on stage had aged about 20 years since he'd been on the radio.
Making a show 21+ cuts off over half of the potential student audience and is just a lame move for reasons detailed in a previous blog. Scroll down and read the archives!
The other one is the long-awaited State Theatre. The Grand Opening is set for Dec. 14. So far, the most interesting announced shows are Marah and Sean Lennon. While the Theatre will not primarily focus on rock music, or even music, the location and size make it a great place to host some mid-level acts.
But even a couple of shows would be a welcome addition to the scene here. Bringing in bands would, I think, draw a great crowd. I don't want to speculate on the kind of acts that could show up, but the crowd for indie and lesser-known bands here is tremendous.
My hope, I guess, is that these potential new venues will take the chance to try bringing in some good bands regularly, and learn from the mistakes of the Crowbar. There is a huge gap in the potential to see live bands, and the new venues have the ability to remedy this situation. Here's hoping that this time next year, we've got more options.
They cited "influences from other, larger venues within Crowbar’s market area" as the reason for their close.
Well, it's November, and almost half a year later these new venues haven't really showed up. If you're not going to a big BJC show, your options are kept pretty small and local. As much as I enjoy and appreciate the shows put on at Dragon Chasers, the Tall Shiva Hookah Lounge and other locations, they do not have the capacity to draw bigger acts that Crowbar did. I don't think one hundred kids hitting the occasional all-ages Roustabout! was really siphoning off that much revenue from a venue that could book Hawthorne Heights.
But analyzing the incompetence at Crowbar will not do. It's gone, and that's that. The Cell Block, so far, has put more emphasis on the club aspect of the venue. From talking to people who've seen the Erie and Williamsport locations, I understand this is probably not going to change much.
This is unfortunate. It's in a great location, has the right capacity and would still have a lot of the fanbase that was familiar with going to Crowbar shows. It would be nice to see them give booking more shows a try (preferably someone who didn't peak in the 80's,) but there's no use holding your breath.
There are two up-and-coming venues on the horizon to watch though. The first is Lulu's Nightstop (renamed from Club Love, which evidently was a bit too masculine.) They had Shooter Jennings last night, the Drive-By Truckers earlier in the year, and State Radio is coming up with locals Cloverleaf as openers. It's not a lot of shows to judge them by, but it's a step in the right direction.
I think the shows are 21+, which is a huge downfall that really hurts. Eddie Money at the Cell Block was 21+ and packed the house, but I think that can be written off by realizing that most people who wanted to go either listened to Money in his prime, or had to be drunk enough to forget the guy on stage had aged about 20 years since he'd been on the radio.
Making a show 21+ cuts off over half of the potential student audience and is just a lame move for reasons detailed in a previous blog. Scroll down and read the archives!
The other one is the long-awaited State Theatre. The Grand Opening is set for Dec. 14. So far, the most interesting announced shows are Marah and Sean Lennon. While the Theatre will not primarily focus on rock music, or even music, the location and size make it a great place to host some mid-level acts.
But even a couple of shows would be a welcome addition to the scene here. Bringing in bands would, I think, draw a great crowd. I don't want to speculate on the kind of acts that could show up, but the crowd for indie and lesser-known bands here is tremendous.
My hope, I guess, is that these potential new venues will take the chance to try bringing in some good bands regularly, and learn from the mistakes of the Crowbar. There is a huge gap in the potential to see live bands, and the new venues have the ability to remedy this situation. Here's hoping that this time next year, we've got more options.
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
"I laugh until my head falls off..."
After spending the past year making snide comments in the paper, I had the pleasure of yelling them out, unfiltered, to the actual performer.
In other words, I got to heckle.
But first some background: This past Friday, I attended a joint comedy show venture between Students Organizing the Multiple Arts and the Full Ammo Improv. And while comedy is inherently hit or miss, I could't help but wish the balance wasn't so skewed at the HUB that night. The "hits" were just friendly jabs on the shoulder, while the misses made me wonder if the comics hadn't hit a bump and lost their punchlines while driving down Beaver Ave.
The show featured a mix of local talent, comics from Rutgers, and some people with national exposure, like comics featured on Comedy Central's Premium Blend and host Michael Showalter (Wet Hot American Summer, Stella.) But even Showalter faltered at times, opening his introduction with some d-level schlock that seemed like a desperate attempt of a failing comedian to engage the crowd.
Showalter: How are we doing, Penn State?
Crowd: (mild applause)
Showalter: I can't hear you!
Crowd: (slightly more enthusiastic)
Showalter: No, I really can't hear you. I have an inner ear disorder.
Crowd: (crickets pushing tumbleweed)
The rest of Showalter's stuff was much better, including his guilty pleasure playlist (any excuse to diss crappy music is fine by me) and a wonderfully surreal bit nitpicking on why Starbucks sells the movie Akeelah and the Bee--and only Akeelah and the Bee.
But aside from that, there were few highlights. Technical problems prevented the videos from being shown. There were at least four musicians comedians, only two of which were worth anything. Rob Paravonian probably had the best set though. His in-between song banter was better than most everyone else's stand-up, and his songs were funny and not repetitive. Best of all was a song about how he can't stop hearing Pachebel's "Canon" whereever he goes, which ends with a medley of popular songs using the same chords that had the crowd in hysterics.
But even that hit was not enough to counter the night's biggest miss. I don't know the guy's name, and even if I did, his performance was so bad that printing it in public would endanger his life (even moreso if a chunk of the crowd hadn't left two minutes into his set.) I can't repeat his jokes for two reasons:
1.) Everything that came out of his mouth was idiotic, racist, sexist, and offensive when it was intelligible (which half of it was not.)
2.) He didn't tell a single joke.
It's all a blur of bad taste, but I remember this psuedo-Dane Cook wannabe with a thick Brooklyn-Italian accent rambling on about going to the hood, getting beaten up for hitting on women of others races, and then yelling at girls at parties, or something. He went over his time limit twice. He lost at least a tenth of the crowd. His "comedy" was met with silence by everyone aside from one vocal girl in the front (clearly a plant, his girlfriend, or a planted girlfriend.)
Now, I understand comedy is a tough art. I respect anyone who gets up there and tries. There's constant crowd feedback, so the comedian is feeling it everytime a line doesn't hit. A lot of them were student comedians playing to a very large crowd so I cut them a lot of slack.
Until this clown yelled out "Yeah, you like that?"
To which someone else in the crowd replied "No!"
"Who said that?" the alleged comedian replied. "Hey, man, f--k you!"
At this point, fifteen minutes of enduring this guy had taken its toll. Without thinking, I yelled out "No, f--k YOU! Tell a f---ing joke!" I don't know if he heard me, though the amount of turned heads told me at least the ten rows in front of me did. But it still felt good to voice my displeasure at his total lack of talent. And if you're reading this, Mr. Comedian, please remember how many backs of heads you saw as you scared the crowd away. Please take my advice. Try telling a joke next time you're on stage.
In other words, I got to heckle.
But first some background: This past Friday, I attended a joint comedy show venture between Students Organizing the Multiple Arts and the Full Ammo Improv. And while comedy is inherently hit or miss, I could't help but wish the balance wasn't so skewed at the HUB that night. The "hits" were just friendly jabs on the shoulder, while the misses made me wonder if the comics hadn't hit a bump and lost their punchlines while driving down Beaver Ave.
The show featured a mix of local talent, comics from Rutgers, and some people with national exposure, like comics featured on Comedy Central's Premium Blend and host Michael Showalter (Wet Hot American Summer, Stella.) But even Showalter faltered at times, opening his introduction with some d-level schlock that seemed like a desperate attempt of a failing comedian to engage the crowd.
Showalter: How are we doing, Penn State?
Crowd: (mild applause)
Showalter: I can't hear you!
Crowd: (slightly more enthusiastic)
Showalter: No, I really can't hear you. I have an inner ear disorder.
Crowd: (crickets pushing tumbleweed)
The rest of Showalter's stuff was much better, including his guilty pleasure playlist (any excuse to diss crappy music is fine by me) and a wonderfully surreal bit nitpicking on why Starbucks sells the movie Akeelah and the Bee--and only Akeelah and the Bee.
But aside from that, there were few highlights. Technical problems prevented the videos from being shown. There were at least four musicians comedians, only two of which were worth anything. Rob Paravonian probably had the best set though. His in-between song banter was better than most everyone else's stand-up, and his songs were funny and not repetitive. Best of all was a song about how he can't stop hearing Pachebel's "Canon" whereever he goes, which ends with a medley of popular songs using the same chords that had the crowd in hysterics.
But even that hit was not enough to counter the night's biggest miss. I don't know the guy's name, and even if I did, his performance was so bad that printing it in public would endanger his life (even moreso if a chunk of the crowd hadn't left two minutes into his set.) I can't repeat his jokes for two reasons:
1.) Everything that came out of his mouth was idiotic, racist, sexist, and offensive when it was intelligible (which half of it was not.)
2.) He didn't tell a single joke.
It's all a blur of bad taste, but I remember this psuedo-Dane Cook wannabe with a thick Brooklyn-Italian accent rambling on about going to the hood, getting beaten up for hitting on women of others races, and then yelling at girls at parties, or something. He went over his time limit twice. He lost at least a tenth of the crowd. His "comedy" was met with silence by everyone aside from one vocal girl in the front (clearly a plant, his girlfriend, or a planted girlfriend.)
Now, I understand comedy is a tough art. I respect anyone who gets up there and tries. There's constant crowd feedback, so the comedian is feeling it everytime a line doesn't hit. A lot of them were student comedians playing to a very large crowd so I cut them a lot of slack.
Until this clown yelled out "Yeah, you like that?"
To which someone else in the crowd replied "No!"
"Who said that?" the alleged comedian replied. "Hey, man, f--k you!"
At this point, fifteen minutes of enduring this guy had taken its toll. Without thinking, I yelled out "No, f--k YOU! Tell a f---ing joke!" I don't know if he heard me, though the amount of turned heads told me at least the ten rows in front of me did. But it still felt good to voice my displeasure at his total lack of talent. And if you're reading this, Mr. Comedian, please remember how many backs of heads you saw as you scared the crowd away. Please take my advice. Try telling a joke next time you're on stage.
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