It’s official: Beyonce is People Magazine’s 2012 World’s Most Beautiful Woman.
(Photography Credit: People Magazine)
And this week, my “art” is in New York Mag!
(Photography Credit: Christopher Anderson/Magnum Photos/New York Magazine)
My saxophone and I contributed a jar of Murrays, which I circled above, as part of Hennessy Youngman‘s (“a.k.a. the pedagogic pimp”) stunt at Family Business. I also added some shitty poetry about riding the flatbush commuter van but you can’t see it (not that you’d want to anyway).
(Photography Credit: Rachel Barrett/Gallery Stock)
Also, this week, the first U.S. case of mad cow disease in six years has been found in a dairy cow in central California.
This morning, I received a press release about a band called “Real Estate”. Using the metaphor of a hazy Summer, the band is described as “cut[ting] their sleeves short [to let] the pop smooth to shade you from the midday heat.” Huh? One of the reasons why I don’t like writing about music is because of pitfalls like these. Music description needs imagery but it doesn’t need to be weaved into a fucking Countrytime Lemonade commercial.
Is that what I’m to expect from music as we leave the aughts and enter the tween decade. Am I going to be bored out of my mind for the next ten years, causing me to age more rapidly, preventing me from becoming the grup I always thought I could be?
Which brings me to a documentary I watched over the Christmas break on my new supercool tech gadget roku called “Kill Your Idols”, which delineates the complete rock meltdown of the New York City music scene. Fun! Informative and Lo/No-fi Rockin!
The film starts in the early 80′s with bands like Suicide and The Swans. Interviews include Thurston (Pompous) Moore and Lydia Lunch and flies to what seemed to be present day 2003. Representing the new guard was Yeah Yeah Yeahs, The Liars, Black Dice, A.R.E (ob-v trustafarians) Weapons and more. There is a reference to The Strokes re-awaking the NYC scene but the movie faithfully keeps its focus on the more noisier fare of that time period, leaving out melodious bands like The Rapture and The French Kicks.
In the movie, the bands of yesteryear aren’t impressed with the new guard (of course), while I (as the viewer) wasn’t incredibly impressed with either generation. Both generations relied on delivering cacophonous sounds that seemingly broke with tradition–except the new guard did it with a little more glamour thanks in large part to the bank of mom and dad. Both scenes presented New York City in a dirty, sexy, cool but idealized way that only transplants can deliver.
But I believe that the early aughts brought forth a vibrant rock scene. Back then I loved The Strokes, The Walkmen and I stalked The Modern Age until I holla’ed at the lead singer, quickly losing interest, realizing that he looked like Micky Dolenz from The Monkees.
The boys of the early aughts in New York rocked a prep school after-dark look, their music was slightly disco-y but it was hot and I was so excited to be in New York. And now I’m bored and old.