All this, by way of a catch-all posting.
* Another great failedpilot screed ’bout what not to do with your rock band. In particular I dig becuz I’m going through an elitist “I hate American culture as such” phase that I daren’t allow too much voice. So doing’d be Adorno-ish in a bad way.
* But I do, really, even kinda hate most american counterculture presently. ‘Indie’ everything seems a little more domesticated every five minutes, at least. Let’s take the case of this catpower interview over at craptown. She’s doing what for Chanel now?!? This is the singer whose zitty, unassuming pic i used to keep in my 10th-grade folder? She’s bragging about Louis Vuitton sprees now? Don’t be confused, I’m not gonna stop loving What Would the Community Think. Neither am I calling for some sort of return to ‘Fuck Reagan’ monochromatics. I’m just saying, is this what happens when indie rock grows up? It reminds me of what I don’t like about Vice, which is their (sporadic) affectation of a “fuck you, I do wanna flip-phone, and a yacht” posture. Call me a Bolshevik, but being bourgeois will never be a ‘do.’ Glad to see my stepbrother’s still coming with the Jesus jokes, though… I guess.
* Better tidings from the wfmu blog: “Cookie Monster Disco” starts well and ends weller.
* I wish I spent time obsessing about things I didn’t love so much, cuz that way these crises would be so much less acute. Visual art is a cool example of something I love that remains unspoiled due to my relative dilettante status. Thus I can be reminded that there was once something called the “Young British Artists,” find a book about it published by verso (cuz that’s all i need to know), and joyfully plunge into that shite without all the self-declamation that accompanies my rock and social theory ventures.
The book’s by Julian Stallabrass, by the way: “High Art Lite.” I’m doubly excited because it seems the work is very critical of the old YBA scene. That’s cool for me because in my limited readings, I find art books (like rock zines) to be filled more with laudatory blah-blah than wiseassed denunciations.