Really Rolling Stone? Really?
I’ve already grown fatigued of the end-of-the-decade recape crap because I tend to lose respect for the publications that present it (see: Slate.com’s recap. It is terrible). But I have to admit it’s at least kind of fun to trash the publications who I have little to no respect for in the first place. That’s where Rolling Stone’s recap fits in.
And, really Rolling Stone? Really? You picked “Crazy” by Gnarls Barkley as the best song of the 2000s? I mean don’t get me wrong, I think that song is great, but there are still better songs. “Hey Ya” by Outkast for example, changed the world. “Blind” by Hercules and Love Affair is still amazing after all these listens.
And I will never understand the obsession with Radiohead’s Kid A who they list as the #1 album of the decade, and I love Radiohead with a pretty serious passion.
For those looking for a good end-of-the-decade recape, see NPR.org’s recap. It’s just so… earnest. Like everything else NPR does.
So I’m not a huge Rolling Stone fan, but I’m actually on board with both of their lists. We can quibble about placement, but they put together a good, pretty evenhanded look at what happened this decade in music. “Crazy” was, in its way, as much of a game-changer as “Hey Ya”; there were lots of good pop singles but more really great indie albums; and Beyonce dominated all y’all. You can’t really argue with that.
We tend to have the same taste as NPR producers, but I think their evenhanded, highbrow sensibility (exceptions for Kelly Clarkson aside) actually hampers them in this case. This decade didn’t play out with that much polish. The aughts were fantastic because there was so much crossover between pop and rock and country, so much theft between lowbrow and highbrow, so much confusion over what was great and what was just ubiquitous. Rolling Stone (and Pitchfork in more detail) captures the mess of what we actually listened to, not what we ought to have been influenced by, and that, I think, makes their list a little more valuable.
The Hold Steady - Stuck Between Stations
He was drunk and exhausted; he was critically acclaimed and respected.
I think that’s what we’re all going for, no?
(streaming via.)
Cat Power - He War
Love love love this song.
Sleigh Bells - Infinity Guitars
My junior seminar professor walked into class today and asked if any of us knew anything about Sleigh Bells. “I just heard this song,” he said, “and it blew my mind.”
Thanks, Prof. Widiss, for being married with kids and still being cooler than the rest of us.
Phoenix - “Listzomania” and “One Time Too Many” (A Take-Away Show)
If you don’t already love Vincent Moon’s work at La Blogotheque, you should! He’s pretty fab.
Bonus track: Menomena does “Wet and Rusting” - one of my faves.
I want your handwriting.
Have you ever considered how strange it is that handwriting fonts have come to convey a kind of folksy authenticity in the design lexicon of our age? It’s disingenuous. Handwriting fonts - especially the ones you see everywhere (Comic Sans, Papyrus, Lucida Handwriting) - are mechanically reproduced and manipulated into a kind of cloying, fake, plastic perfection.
Penmanship is mostly a lost art - it is (rightfully) taught less and less in school, and the opportunities for people to see your handwriting are few and far between. As a result, modern handwriting looks really cool. What’s authentic and charming and inviting about real handwriting are the little imperfections that prove it came from a real person.
SO - I have decided to become a collector of handwriting.
Here’s how it works:
- You reblog this or email/Facebook me
- I’ll arrange for you to pick up a template
- You’ll fill it out
- I will create a TrueType font from your handwriting and send it to you
As I collect handwriting, I will periodically post things rendered in the handwriting of the donor - things they have taught me, important aspects of our relationship, jokes they have told me… we’ll see.
Please donate today.
Yes!
"i'll plant a dagger in your ass. simple as that."
Here’s the deal: Wellesley exchange student (male, from Dartmouth) gets extremely angry about nothing, sends the entire campus an email calling Wellesley women a “bunch of whores,” apologizes, makes alarming threats on Facebook, halfheartedly apologizes again, claims he was just trolling, claims the ACLU and the First Amendment have his back, insists he’s not a misogynist and that nothing will happen to him, gets kicked out. Jezebel has the scoop.
So, who loves Dartmouth today?
(The old IvyGate would have been all over this, but for now they’re alarmingly silent. Sigh.)
Doug’s Garage Band - Bangin’ on a Trash Can.
Today in nostalgia: I’ve got love for you if you’re from the ’90s. Bonus prizes: I Need More Allowance and Killer Tofu.
The bad sex factor: extracts from the prize shortlist
While not the most prestigious of literary prizes, the bad sex in fiction award is certainly one of the most entertaining. Hey, maybe Philip Roth will actually win something in a year where nobody seemed to like “The Humbling.”
“It was English that Pegeen spoke when she looked over from where she was, now resting on her back beside Tracy, combing the little black cat-o’-nine-tails through Tracy’s long hair, and, with that kid-like smile that showed her two front teeth, said to him softly, “Your turn. Defile her.” She took Tracy by one shoulder, whispered “Time to change masters,” and gently rolled the stranger’s large, warm body toward his. “Three children got together,” he said, “and decided to put on a play,” whereupon his performance began.”
For more bad sex: here’s the Guardian’s compilation
