Bono Plays His Music So Loud, the Rest of the World Can Hear It

Bono, enjoying demos of the new U2 album in the South of France

I just sat down to my computer to see a somewhat bewildering tweet from Murmurs.com / Warner Brothers Records VP of Technology Ethan Kaplan that seemed right out of The Onion.  Once I clicked through to his blog and saw the link, I gradually realized that it seems like fact.

The suggestion (and if it’s a fabrication, I’ve completely fallen for it) is that four new tracks from U2’s forthcoming album tentatively titled No Line on the Horizon leaked to the internet when a fan recognized Bono’s voice emanating from a villa in Southern France.  The best part is that the source of these loud recordings came from Bono himself, apparently rocking out to the sounds of his own velvety pipes while on vacation.

I’ve commented on (and solicited information regarding) pre-release leaks to the internet, but this is the most unique story of an album making its way (albeit in a clearly inferior format) to the consumers before the street date.  I’m not really interested in this particular leak aside from hearing the sound quality of this random passerby’s camera/cell phone/whatever used to eavesdrop into Bono’s villa (I can wait to hear the new U2 songs).

Read the story for yourself here (via BlackRimGlasses).  I’m not sure that if I was in that fan’s position that I would be sharp enough to record the songs.  I’d certainly stop and listen, but I wouldn’t immediately grab my phone (well, until now at least).

Goodnight, Mike and the Mad Dog

Well, since this blog started with the lamentation of one New York radio institution’s demise, I should acknolwedge the end of the Mike & The Mad Dog Radio Program on WFAN in New York.  Last night, Chris “Mad Dog” Russo announced that he’ll be leaving (rumors have him going to the new Sirius XM Radio) while Mike Francessa will remain the drive-time DJ (what he calls “the best piece of real estate in NYC”) at WFAN.

Sure, the two are notorious assholes – there’s repeated instances of the two nearly coming to blows, not speaking off-air for months at a time, picking fights with various New York sports figures – and they were never shy with their opinions (especially when they were wrong), but it essentially created the sports talk radio genre and always made for compelling listening.  Matthew Cerrone at MetsBlog summed it up best when he called it “a show I loved to hate, or hated to love – I’m not actually sure which.”  Yes, they neglected my beloved Mets (they are Yankee and SF Giants fans), but I couldn’t pull myself away from listening in the car.  Before I was into music, I was huge into sports, and I spent countless hours growing up with WFAN in the background – I remember many a car ride with my dad as we cringed at some of their absurd comments, yet we always listened.  Even now, when I usually plug my iPod in, I sometimes switch over to see what the topics of the day were.

So good luck to both of them, because it will never be the same.

Two quick M&MD links to leave you with:

1. WFAN archived the beginning of today’s show, including Francessa’s explanation of Russo’s departure, and Russo’s call in to the show afterwards.
2. Bill Simmons’ excellent running diary of an episode of Mike and the Mad Dog, a fine mix of comedic jabs and begrudging respect.

Jeff Tweedy Never Fails to Amuse Me

At one point last night, Connecticut’s reputation as “stuck between New York and Boston” resonated with me as I realized I was roughly half way between A Radiohead show in the Boston area and a Wilco show in Brooklyn and that I was going to neither (out of choice and financial self-defense, but that doesn’t make it any easier to swallow).

So when I woke up this morning to see Brooklyn Vegan, recently criticized as “the indie rock tabloid” (I feel dirty for using the “I” word, but it’s an apt description, freaking out about Jeff Tweedy “dissing Brooklyn,” I laughed hysterically.  The author of the post, after admitting to being “in love” with Wilco, neurotically repeated some of Jeff Tweedy’s banter.

And last but not least there was the comment that definitely had only one meaning. That was the one when Jeff straight up dissed Brooklyn. I didn’t bring a pencil, but he said something like, “What’s wrong Brooklyn? Would you have liked that better if we put a ‘Love Will Tear us Apart’ fill in there?” I realize Jeff is a comedian, but now there is also one person I know that considers him a mortal enemy for that one. Also, I mean, did he look at the crowd? It wasn’t exactly a ‘Pool Party’. This Brooklyn McCarren Pool show was definitely filled with the kind of (mostly male) people who like Wilco more than they like Joy Division (at least that’s the generalization I’m going to make).

First things first, one of the commenters suggeted that the Joy Division jab came when the crowd was reluctant to clap along to the end of “Spiders (Kidsmoke)” and not some random attack on the borough.  Sure, Jeff Tweedy’s been noted to have a bit of a temper, but a playful jab at the hipster population shouldn’t “create a mortal enemy” – that’s someone taking himself way too seriously (remember, he’s saying this during a 10 minute song that sounds kind of like Kraftwerk, so there’s a certain irony to it).

All that aside, it’s really funny – and the prospect of someone being truly bothered by it is even funnier.

Speaking of “Works in Progress…”

First, thanks to everyone who read, tweeted, commented, e-mailed, texted, IM-ed, etc. after yesterday’s post.  I’m quite flattered that so many of you passed it on and I’m grateful for all the words of encouragement/empathy/elation passed in my direction.  It’s funny how a post that I started writing in my head in the car and furiously typed out when I returned home could resonate with so many.

Also, thanks to all the people coming over via paulwesterberg.net.  I guess calling the new track “missing” was not the best description for it, and I’m glad that the readers and commenters there have it straightened out, because unlike the first release (which was evidently pulled for copyright issues, as Westerberg covers some songs near the end of the 44-ish minutes on 49:00) the “5:05″ was barely mentioned anywhere.

Anyway, the reason for this post is to say that I’m in the long process of uploading my Lollapalooza videos and pictures.  I say long because each of the YouTube videos I’m posting take about 4 hours of upload/encoding time, so I’m setting them to upload, leaving to do other things, and returning later to a (hopefully, barring a network malfunction) complete upload.  I already posted my “Fake Plastic Trees” / Fireworks clip at Make Me Fries, but I’ll share my recently uploaded video of The National’s “Fake Empire” at Lollapalooza.

There’s more to come, but this might be (behind the Radiohead video) my favorite clip.  Enjoy!

My Tony Robbins Moment (or, “Forgive Me While I Wax Philosophically For a Minute, the Normal Routine Resumes Soon”)

I just had coffee with my friend Johanna, and we spent the afternoon sitting outside and catching each other up on our lives (because, as my friends know, I’m horrible about staying in touch).  As we got up to leave, I said something to her that would have been so ridiculous coming out of my mouth six months ago: I told her that I’ve realized that we can’t get everything in life immediately and that we should “enjoy the process” on the way.

Sure, this sounds like typical new-age bullshit, but it marks such a tremendous personal paradigm shift.  It took me a long time to even acknowledge that while I’m patient with a lot of things in life, I’m very impatient with myself – I wanted to be a master teacher before starting my student teaching, I wanted to be over a broken heart as soon as possible, I wanted to have my life figured out right this minute (you get the idea).  I wanted the end result before I even knew what the desired ending would be! This sounds completely ridiculous at this point, but I can assure you that it’s true.  For example, from the moment I started my masters’ degree, I wanted to be done and working.

One of my mentors this spring kept telling me that I needed to “respect the process.”  At the time, I knew what she meant but had no idea of how to achieve it.  It took a few awful days, including a semi-breakdown one morning (something that I think two people knew about before I wrote this, one of which being me) to accept that life is a work in progress, be it personal, professional, or whatever.  Most importantly, it involved letting go of those unrealistic goals I set for myself.  I think it’s part of my personality to instinctively think of the future – I envision things, hedge my bets, and minimize risk like nobody’s buisness.  I think the thing that I understand now is that by doing so, I’ve narrowed the spectrum of possibilities.  There’s a difference between making smart, rational decisions that set you up for success and making choices that simply reduce any tragic failures, embarassments, or rejections.

So through the course of the summer (which, as Johanna pointed out several times, is still a work in progress – I have a couple more weeks of the Summer of Brian), I’ve increasingly found that I’m happy with my place in the world – I’m about to start a job that I will be excited to show up for each day, I’m connecting (and re-connecting) with friends that inspire me (in particular a wonderfully caring and supportive girlfriend who makes me happy simply by just spending time together), and finding pleasures in simple, everyday moments in life.  While these are all wonderful, they’re all direct results of me letting go of the reins just enough to make life something to experience rather than something to plot out, dissect, and plan against.  Simply put, I think that by learning to accept that life isn’t perfect, I’ve found so many other things that make it wonderful.

At the first R.E.M. show I went to in June, I spent the entire night in sonic rapture; however, the single moment that still sends chills up my spine came during “Electrolite,” when Michael Stipe sang the line “Don’t be scared, you are alive.”  I’m not one for crying, but even just thinking about it makes my eyes a little moist.  I’m not saying that I was scared of anything in particular (not that I can articulate consciously at least), and that’s not to say that I’m completely changed either.  I just know that since I bottomed out in late February, I’ve been making progress towards living each day as it comes, rather than looking forward to the distant future and/or shielding myself until that moment.  This too, appropriately enough, is a work in progress.

So as soon as those words – “enjoy the process” came out of my mouth, I immediately thought that I should e-mail my mentor (which I will do as soon as I post this) because I think I’m on my way to “understanding” it.  Then, as I walked to my car, I had a twitter message from a friend that suggested that I’ve “made the most” of my summer and asking what the fall will yield.  This prompted two thoughts; first, I agreed with her.  Sure, there’s always things that we run out of time for, but overall I’m happy with my summer and with myself.  Second, I can tell her that I have no idea what the fall holds for me, and that for the first time in my life, it doesn’t matter.  Whatever happens I will deal with the best I can, with the support of my friends, family, and colleagues, and I’ll enjoy the highs and lows as they come along.

So, forgive me for being somewhat philosophical, but I think I needed to see this in writing.  I’m actually in the middle of my Lollapalooza post on my laptop, but that can wait, because sometimes there’s more important things happening to you right now.

Paul Westerberg Completes His 49 Minutes

A few weeks ago, Paul Westerberg released a set of basement recordings dubbed 49:00.  Much of the emphasis was on the format of this “album” – Westerberg released the whole thing exclusively as a single track MP3 for $0.89 at the Amazon MP3 store (which, if you buy a lot of MP3s, is an excellent retailer for DRM-free music with plenty of rotating sales).

While a relatively established rocker practically giving away music for less than a dollar warrants notoriety (granted, Westerberg hasn’t achieved Reznor-like levels of recorded philanthropy), the music itself deserves much of the spotlight.  Westerberg crammed this recording with his raw basement recordings of his trademark tunefully raw compositions (It reminded me aesthetically of the Stereo/Mono album from a few years ago).  Songs overlap, bleed into each other, and end abruptly almost like a bizarre pirate radio broadcast.

So when the actual album clocked in at 43:55, I didn’t think too much about it; some speculated that it was actually forty nine minutes of music overlapped over each other while others attributed the title to Westerberg’s wry sense of humor.  Regardless, I was simply happy to purchase almost three quarters of an hour of wonderful songs from one of my favorite singer/songwriters for less than a dollar (seriously, I spend more on coffee on a regular basis – if it came caffeinated I’d buy it every day).

I was content enough to enjoy the music until I read this morning (via I Am Fuel, You Are Friends) that the “missing” music surfaced for sale.  I haven’t bought it yet, but I’m amused by the two purchase options – you can buy the final five minutes for $0.99 (which, it should be noted, is 111% of the price of the first fourty four minutes!) or you can pay $5.05 (ha!) for what I assume is just the missing MP3.  However, since the original is no longer for sale, perhaps the $5.05 price gets you the entire 49:00?

Regardless, it’s worth checking out – the songs are raw, unpolished, and wonderful.  If you end up buying the final 5:05 through the link below (especially if you pay the higher ammount), please let me know in the comments.  I’ll update this post when I get it myself.

TuneCore: Paul Westerberg – 5:05. (Download link)

Inspiration from Unexpected Places / Lollapalooza Wrap-Up Part 1

In other places on the web, I’ve mentioned Tom Ewing’s monthly “Poptimist” column as essential reading.  In his most recent article, Ewing discusses the intersection of ones personal musical history with the all-encompassing public history of pop music.

This is the terrible problem of writing a history of pop– we don’t experience music in a grand omniscient sweep, we feel it a track at a time, and we all have scenes or songs without which “pop history” seems incomplete.

Ewing hits the nail on the head – while I always look for (and, like many critics, romanticize) great albums, pop music thrives on single tracks.  I think of it like reading a novel – we’re quick to share authors we love or praise entire novels that we loved reading, but it’s single moments in these books that we fall in love with, whether we know it or not.  For example, I distinctly remember the part in On the Road where Sal Paradise ponders what the Spanish word manana means (it’s moments like these that inspired me to start keeping my own notebook, but that’s for another post).  Similarly, I love Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, but much of that love comes from the individual memories I have with many of the tracks.

Regardless, in my brief history as an amateur critic, I’ve always tended to like writing about songs rather than albums.  This comes as no surprise to anyone who’s received a mix CD with seven to eight pages of “liner notes” accompanying the disc (a practice I’m proud to say I’ve passed on to some of my friends).  This practice led into a few “mix” articles for my old college newspaper as well as the practice of building and then writing about mixes in blog posts.

A few months back, while trying to figure out how to write about music (and, quite frankly, just write more often), I came up with the idea to take my love of writing about individual songs to the logical extreme – pick single songs and write something related.  Whether it was criticism, analysis, or simply telling a vaguely related story, the idea was that I would be writing, drawing inspiration from the songs.

So tonight I started that process again, using Radiohead’s “Fake Plastic Trees” as a jumping-off point to start talking about Lollapalooza 2008.  You can read that post here, at the Make Me Fries site.  I’m planning on writing about individual songs as shorter, more frequent posts there (and perhaps breaking it off into something else if it cramps Mike’s style too much) so be sure to check it out.  In this blog, I’ll write one post about Lollapalooza that focuses on my general reaction and personal highlights (rather than dragging it out like the R.E.M. posts I still haven’t finished).

I’m hoping that the adage of “less is more” will carry over here – by writing shorter things more often, I’ll actually write more.  You can help by nagging me if I haven’t written.  I’ll appreciate it (I think).

Area Pitcher Oblivious of Satire

Lollapalooza stuff is forthcoming, but first I wanted to share the following interchange from an interview with Yankees pitcher Mike Mussina (in Yahoo!’s Big League Stew blog)

Q: The Onion has written a few satirical stories with you as a character.

MM: Who?

Q: The Onion, the satirical newspaper that writes fake joke stories? You don’t know the Onion?

MM: Nope.

Q: Wow. Well, there was this one headline: “Mussina Convinced He’s Won a World Series” and it quotes you as believing you were on the 2000 World Series champs.

MM: OK.

Q: All right, moving along …

I’ve always thought of Moose as a hell of a pitcher; in particular, he’s been one of the bright spots on my worst fantasy team.  Not knowing The Onion, though?  Sorry, I can’t help but lose a little bit of respect for him.