The Valley Advocate: Affluent White Male

Screaming Females: Keep Getting Better

Mon, 18 Jun 2012 4:04:00 PM MST

Perpetually ascending underground sensations Screaming Females recently released the curiously-named Ugly. The New Jersey-based trio has blazed quite a trail, with years of touring and four albums under their collective belts.

For their fifth album, the band recorded with legendary indie rock curmudgeon/Bush producer Steve Albini. Albini's participation in projects typically becomes a larger story than it deserves to be; it's been well proven that Albini is a near genius when it comes to music production. In the instance of Ugly, the songs would probably have stood on their own merit recorded on a boom box

Ugly has the same basic ingredients of the Females' previous output- melodic hooks and merciless shredding, but this time round, every element mixes in perfectly. Opening track "It All Means Nothing" is catchy and jammy all in a compact package. "Rotten Apple" is a perfectly obnoxious earworm. "Doom 84" is an extended stoner-rock jam.

The real jewel of the album is the last track, "It's Nice," which has a sentimental mood, and a beautiful string section. It's the only real departure for the band on the album, and it was refreshing to hear, after sitting through a double album.

It's not as if the album is a massive change of character for the band; everything fits in fine with their earlier material. What is different this time is that, in an already impressive discography, they seem to have perfected their formula.

someone drink margs with me tonightttt

Westboro Baptist Church Does What Rolling Stone Is Too Scared To Do

Wed, 30 May 2012 5:58:00 PM MST

Suddenly, Fred Phelps considers himself to be the David Fricke of hateful nutcases.

A broken clock is right twice a day.

Courtney Love: American Tragedy

Fri, 25 May 2012 12:00:00 AM MST

Whenever one Courtney Love is your topic of choice, there are a innumerable amounts of directions you can go in. She's made a career out of being a complete train wreck, mostly. When all is said and done, a feminist warrior with ambition bigger than the universe will mostly be remembered for her uncanny ability to make a complete and utter fool of herself.

Last month was no exception, as Ms. Love posted accusations that former Nirvana drummer/ Foo Fighters frontman/"nicest guy in rock" Dave Grohl put the moves on Frances Bean Cobain, her own daughter.

See the ugly details here.

Her daughter took to the airwaves of the internet and basically told everyone that Courtney Love is one crazy bitch.

I could stay up all night judging a mother who takes rumors, ahem, lies about her daughter's sexual exploits and brings them to the internet, but I won't. Instead, I'd like to write a eulogy to Courtney Love, and the talent she seems to have lost.

I grew up in the afterglow of grunge, spending my formative years listening to the likes of Nirvana and Hole, before moving on to the superior bands that influenced them. See: Black Flag, Sonic Youth, The Pixies, Public Image LTD, The Stooges, etc. etc.

As much as I've moved on from the former bands and still love the latter, I still have a soft spot in my heart for Hole's first two albums. Courtney Love might not have been a legitimate riot girl, but she was able to fake it enough so that she distilled the appeal of bands like Bratmobile and Bikini Kill into a palpable product.

Hole's magnum opus, Live Through This, still feels relevant even now. With the imagery of disfigured baby dolls in the liner notes, the lyrical references to bullimia, domestic abuse, pornography, and self-image issues, it still seems like a perfect cocktail of the loud feminism of riot girl, awww-shucks pop, grunge, and the mania of a woman who was either smart, self-assured and strong or just plain nuts.

More likely than not, all of the above.

Whatever the case was, she was pissed, she had a knack for melody, and the lyrics transcend gender, reaching a universal appeal that we'd all be better to stand behind. If Nirvana's Nevermind was a slickly packaged representation of a vibrant American underground to that point, Live Through This was the same thing for the riot girrrls.

It should be viewed as a larger musical acheivement than it is....

....probably because the only thing Love has acheived since its release is finding new and exciting ways to embarass herself. She could have been an icon for well-oiled, aggressive, pro-feminist rock, which is clearly what someone with transparent ambition strives for.

Instead, she's become a cautionary tale for anyone who comes out with guns blazing in star-fucking glory.

So, rest in peace, Courtney Love's talent.

Long live the mania.

Against Me, And Her.

Tue, 08 May 2012 8:27:00 PM MST

Tom Gabel, lead singer of angsty politlcal punks Against Me! is, evidently, set to reveal to Rolling Stone magazine, that he is now she, coming out as Laura Jane Grace, and revealing her struggle with gender dysphoria.

Initially, this seems to be rther heavy, in a good way. The idealist in me hopes that the lead singer of a once-important punk band revealing their inner turmoil to a reputable mainstream publication will only serve to help the plight of people who deal with gender dysphoria. You really have to tip your cap to her for the courage this must have taken.

There's still a cynic in me that recalls Dwarves-like pranks, but I'll defer to the positive in this situation. Hats off, and good luck, Laura Jane Grace; one can only hope this gives others the courage to do the same.

Battle of the Valley cracka rappas

Wed, 25 Apr 2012 9:36:00 PM MST

Ok, so the past few months have seen an outbreak of Valley White Rapper Syndrome (VWRS). It's up to us as discriminating listeners to determine who wins this battle for the soul of the Valley white rap scene, a cornerstone of local music, a highly prized institution in this area with a legacy that spans ten minutes.

So, in this corner, we have Dr. Westchesterson.

It's really kind of a cutesy tribute to The Valley. Innocuous. It's kind of charming, kind of funny. Nice shout out to the region. Me? I say hats off to you, doctor.

In THAT corner, we have Paul Markham.

This is every negative stereotype of Amherst, wrapped up in one slickly-produced video. Really, I hope the poor kid has time to reflect upon his mistakes when "employers" google him and find this. How many people go into a job interview with this on the web? Most of my friends are scared of facebook pictures that show them indulging in college parties with ambiguous plastic cups and sloppy grins on their faces.

My vote goes to the Doctor, although I doubt his medical credentials.

Absolute Monarchs

Fri, 13 Apr 2012 12:00:00 AM MST

I am still more than a little in awe of the seemingly endless amount of good music that the Pacific Northwest has turned out over the past 20 years. Nirvana, The Melvins, Unwound, Bikini Kill, Modest Mouse, Sleater- Kinney, Wild Flag; I could go on forever.

That's hyperbole. I could not go on forever. I'm weak, limp wristed, and apathetic.

Fine.

You got me.

Oh yeah, and I never cared much for Elliot Smith, but that's just me. The fact is, though, that when your B squad includes Minus The Bear, the notch has clearly been set high geographically.

The latest contender is Absolute Monarchs, a four-piece who live and die by the ancient art of the riff. They might be the riffiest band I've heard in a while. Not like, self-indulgent Van Halen riffing. Think of the sharpest indie punkers, the Jesus Lizards, the Fugazis of the world. The kind of bands that have a knack for being memorable without stooping to the standards of a pop group.

Little bit more like The Pop Group.

Absolute Monarchs' debut record, aptly titled 1, doesn't so much proceed as it violently unravels, every track aggressive, creative and nasty. This is a band that merrily mixes genres while maintaining an overall pleasantly abrasive sonic quality. If you listen as closely as someone with all the spare time I have does, you can hear multiple influences co-existing peacefully. At certain points, they have a pleasant vibe that's kind of shoegaze-y. At certain points, they have a heavy, post-hardcore edge, like, say, Frodus.

You can list influences all day long, but the larger point is this is a band seamlessly mingling with different genres with an overall outstanding result. This is one of the most intriguing new bands that I've heard in a long time. They're a band to watch, to say the least, one whose promise seems to imply an inevitable musical growth spurt.

You've been warned.

Sgt. Pepper's Lucky Sperm Club Band

Wed, 04 Apr 2012 9:38:00 AM MST

In what could turn out to be a fascinating experiment in the nature vs. nurture debate, news broke this week that the offspring of the Beatles might be starting a band together.

It's highly unlikely that their work will rise above being a cheesey gimmick act, but the idea is nonetheless delicious. You just have to wonder whether they could even come close to creating the same magic that their fathers were able to. Again, it's highly unlikely, as The Beatles were a cultural phenomona that were almost as much a product of perfect timing as they were about talent.

Either way, it would be, like, you know, neat.

And, once again, Julian Lennon is the unwanted son. Someone throw this kid a bone!

Slam Dancing IS a Crime

Mon, 26 Mar 2012 8:05:00 PM MST

True story: I recently witnessed Worcester's own Bovachevo live. They tore, playing a mathy hard rock that reminded me a lot of Drive Like Jehu. They raked, plain and simple.

I was pretty into the show, except for one simple problem.

The dripping, idiotic, testosterone-laden specimens who insisted on ruining my show experience by slamming into me, knocking me over, and generally disrupting the experience.

This all ties in to the recent crackdown on slam dancing in Boston.

The general sentiment I get from most people about this is akin to a student body responding to a high school principal's unpopular decision. This isn't banning the twist or the hustle; its a pragmatic decision. It's getting rid of a practice that ultimately has nothing of interest to offer besides potential lawsuits.

Ok, so I'll admit: the older I've gotten, the more idiotic the entire act of slam dancing seems.

I've been to too many shows over the years where I am forced to spend the entire experience on guard, waiting for an errant elbow to knock into my head. It's not just that taking a haymaker to the back of the skull is an unpleasant experience; it's that the people who participate in this behavior are being disingenuous in doing so.

It ruins the experience, and makes otherwise intelligent heavy music easy to see as bafoonish and idiotic.

We all go to shows to experience the music, am I wrong in that presumption? We go to see a live band that will bring it, for the sake of experience. We pay money to see genuine acts of musical heroism.

It's rather difficult to reach said experiences when you're thrashing around like a seizure victim, when your only focus is to knock everything around you the fuck down. When violence is your only focus, you're not enjoying the music; you're just a thug.

And you're ruining the experence for basically everyone but yourself: women and men who are smaller than you, and anyone smarter than you.

There, I said it.

Post-Modern News

Tue, 13 Mar 2012 4:05:00 PM MST

I'm sure everyone is familiar with the satirical news site known as The Onion. It's a pretty hilarious take on news that always astounds me with its ability to evoke a laugh.

What's even funnier is when you come across a news story that reads as if it's an Onion story, but is actually legitimate.

No less a comedic goldmine than the Arena Football League provides this extended laugh track.

The narrative is delicious; the classic storyline of management vs. the proleteriat rings true. I'm shocked that Arena Football Players live on such pitiful wages, but more shocked that ownership would be so callous as to breakup with an entire team at The Olive Garden.

I smell a sponsorship opportunity!!

Conceptualize This:

Wed, 29 Feb 2012 9:16:00 PM MST

Indie darlings of years goneby Cursive have released a new album.

This news should be met with collective yawns, and not just because they're little better than a nostalgia act for twenty something emo kids. There is a far more sinister reason that the new album, I Gemini, should be met with apathy.

It's not because it's a generally lukewarm experience from a band that is languishing 8 years past its prime.

No. Far worse.

It's a concept album.

I loathe the phrase; it stinks of everything that good rock music shouldn't be. Concept albums are typically bloated, pretentious, lacking coherence, and, ultimately, gratuitous. Even the best concept albums (Husker Du's Zen Arcade, Pink Floyd's The Wall) would exist quite comfortably without their "stories." When I think of The Wall, I don't think of the story of the album's protagonist, Pink, which is a loose narrative at best; I think about individual tracks that sound just fine without being wedged into a track-by-track musical procedure.

My point? The best music, by my estimate, is organic. It shouldn't be forced to exist within the stifling frame of a narrative: it should exist and thrive independently.