[…] vs. The Internet
thank you, dlb.
From Ian S. Port: San Francisco writer, music editor of SF Weekly, part-time bon vivant.
I saw Sound City (finally! Thanks Vh1) and much of the time I wanted to yell at Dave Grohl: This box of knobs and wires did not make you great or talented or successful. You and your good luck did. It’s a fucking mixing console. It’s a tool. Not a magic ingredient to stardom.
Japandroids — Celebration Rock*
Ty Segall — Slaughterhouse
Ty Segall — Twins
Tame Impala — Lonerism
Cloud Nothings — Attack on Memory
Django Django – S/T
Jack White — Blunderbuss
Screaming Females — Ugly
Bob Mould — Silver Age
Mark Eitzel — Don’t Be a Stranger
The Mynabirds — Generals
Fiona Apple — the Idler Wheel*
Sharon Van Etten — Tramp
The Magnetic Fields — Love at the Bottom of the Sea
First Aid Kit — The Lion’s Roar
Todd Terje — Love is The Drug (Roxy Music Remix)* [Single]
Matthew Dear — Beams [Album]
Korallreven — An Album By Korallreven [Airy, Balearic electronica]
Chromatics — Kill For Love [Single]
Tanlines — Mixed Emotions [Album]
Mati Zundel — Amazonico Gravitante* [electronic cumbia-folk from Argentina, amazing]
Frank Ocean — Channel Orange* [R&B/Pop artist of the year probably]
Bat For Lashes — Haunted Man [dark, electronic pop]
Kendrick Lamar — good kid, mAAd city [rap album of the year]
Dirty Projectors — Swing Lo Magellan [art rock]
These bougies-in-training will want events to practice their conspicuous consumption, whether on food, booze, music, or all at the same time. And they’ll get it at events like Noisette. This kind of high-minded consumerism — fun as it is — will become the norm, even more than it already has. So while it was once a respite for low-income creatives and real deviants, who would pay $5 or $10 to go a show or a party (at the Eagle Tavern, or Annie’s Social Club, or Kimo’s, remember those?), swill cheap whiskey, and watch something freaky and loud until early in the morning, San Francisco will slowly become one big pork-belly party, an amusement park for well-off residents to discover some new consumer good to become picky over, or for bridge-and-tunnel types to visit on the weekend, go to an overpriced club, and meet a hookup. Big concerts will draw kids from the ‘burbs paying $50 or more a head. They’ll never believe they could be rich enough to actually live here.
The freaks and creatives won’t go too far — they’ll go to Oakland, where there’s much more space, at much lower cost. The kinds of reckless energy that powered San Francisco music from the ’60s through the ’90s will trickle away, as much of it has already. And the city will be worse for it.
What matters is that you do good work. What matters is that you produce things that are true and will stand. What matters is that the Flaming Lips’s new album is ravishing and I’ve listened to it a thousand times already, sometimes for days on end, and it enriches me and makes me want to save people. What matters is that it will stand forever, long after any narrow-hearted curmudgeons have forgotten their appearance on goddamn 90210. What matters is not the perception, nor the fashion, not who’s up and who’s down, but what someone has done and if they meant it. What matters is that you want to see and make and do, on as grand a scale as you want, regardless of what the tiny voices of tiny people say. Do not be critics, you people, I beg you. I was a critic and I wish I could take it all back because it came from a smelly and ignorant place in me, and spoke with a voice that was all rage and envy. Do not dismiss a book until you have written one, and do not dismiss a movie until you have made one, and do not dismiss a person until you have met them. It is a fuckload of work to be open-minded and generous and understanding and forgiving and accepting, but Christ, that is what matters. What matters is saying yes.
— Dave Eggers, in a 2000 interview with the Harvard Advocate.
Start as close to the end as possible.