An Open Letter To “Buster” Obama

Dear “Buster,”

Err, President Buster. On the eve (well… a few hours before) your inauguration, I thought I’d just write you a quick note, seeing as now that you’ll be President, you should have all sorts of time to read it. ☺

I voted for you. My wife voted for you. Many of my friends and some of my family voted for you. While I won’t attempt to speak for them, I will say that for me, I voted for you because… you did it different, and now I’m counting on you to follow through.

This is the thing: I had this long blahg about you all ready to go, but every time I read it, it just seemed like it was missing something. I realized (somewhat painfully, considering the time I put in on that thing) that it was missing something because it could never cover everything, so I decided that I’d take different approach: I’m intentionally going to be general and unspecific. Broad. Sweeping. All encompassing. Yeah, like that. Quite frankly after hearing so many unspecific speeches from you and your buddies over the last year, I think I’ve earned that convenience.

Now is not the time for 50 links to 50 different quotes from you and 50 other links to 50 other stories about you or that other guy who ran for Prez – ol’ what’s his name. (Sorry… couldn’t resist at least one.) We already did that dance. Now is not the time for me to break down my bullet point chart of causes. There have been plenty (Jello Biafra already did a way better job than I would have anyway, so please: Just go read his) and to tell the truth, we don’t have time for going over all of that again. Besides, I’m counting on you to know it all by heart anyway.
Now is the time for action, so…

“Action.”

Go. Do it.
Now is the time for you to simply be who you claimed to be. It won’t be a picnic, but it better not be that hard either, “Buster.”
You got us to listen. You got us to believe in you, so man, please don’t blow it.
We don’t believe in you as some sort of savior or anything weird, just… as our President. Our leader. We believe in you as someone who will represent this county with dignity and vision rather than indignity and outright cluelessness. Now is the time for you to back up all those well-written speeches & books and get down to the nitty and the gritty. We want to see some action, and you don’t get the opportunity to spin that off – because that’s what they do, and we didn’t vote for them, we voted for you.

Now is the time for you to make good on all the “Change” talk.
“Change.” It’s already sounding a little dry - please add water.
It’s a good word. It was a great campaign angle. But, uh… change is underway, so now what?

I know a lot people, most of whom never vote (and some who think all of you guys are straight up evil) but who, like me, bought into your bit about “Change,” and dammit… now you owe us. You owe us. Don’t get me to care, to defend, to fight for your cause and then turn around and call “do-over.”

You can’t take people who are not just not excited about much, but who flat out do not believe a word any politician says, get them all excited about something potentially great, then just… pffrrrt.
It wouldn’t be fair, and you know what: we might even hate you for it.
It would be worse than doing all the stuff that we knew good and well that other guy would have done. It would be a violation of the trust that got you where you are now. Basically, you would be worse than my old boss, and he was a total bastard – but at least he knew it. He claimed it, owned it. You, you claim to give a shit, and man… there’s no take-backs on that. If you try to do one of those take-backs we’re all so accustomed to by now you’ll be worse than the worst.
You’ll be the worsest. Worstest. You’d be… well, bad.
This person would be better driver than you would be a Commander:

Seriously, though.
If you let us down, man… I can’t even imagine how long it would be until someone could sell that “Change” crap again. The decline in value of that word would plummet faster than the value of an ill-advised solo album. If you turn on us, I could run against your “Change” campaign by waving a flaming bag of poo in the air and promising to deliver it to Bin Laden’s doorstep my first day in office, and I would win in a landslide. No kidding around.

We want real change. We even want to help. We want the scourges of this time in our history addressed, discussed and dealt with – as per your own words. Please make good on those words, because lets be honest – it’s a miracle anyone believed them after the last 20 years.

I used the pet name given to you by your mother – “Buster” – with the best of intentions. You told the story a number of times during the campaign, and I saw it as a link to your humanity, your history, your upbringing – a good thing. It’s a connection rarely made between our experience and that of our Commander in Chief – a connection made with respect to your position. I don’t need (or really want) a President who I can “sit down and have a beer with” – or one who will freely discuss his underwear preferences with me. How is that supposed to give me confidence that my President knows what the hell he’s doing?
I do want a President whose mother taught him the same lessons mine taught me. My mother (and/or father, of course) would be on my backside if I said I’d do something then went back on my word. (Fear the Look.) I learned the value of hard work. (Ephesians 4:28 – fear being a loser.) I was also taught the cost of a lie. (Fear God.)
You had a mother, whom you clearly respected. I’m banking on her having taught you the same things - and you having learned them.
So, Buster: Don’t let us down. Don’t let me down. (And her? That’s on you, brother.) You have a chance to be different – and we’re willing let you. Now just… do it right.
Sincerely,
m.

So… That Was ‘08, I Guess

Not So Sure I’d Call ‘08 “Great”

First things first: It’s my birthday. What’d you get me?

Anyway… Pretty much everyone knows that “Top 10” lists are crap. If they don’t come from David Letterman, 9 out of 10 are snotty, condescending nonsense or… worse. Logic dictates that if the grouchy old genius doesn’t do the “Top 10 Whatevers of Year Whatever,” you probably shouldn’t even bother.
Ahhh… and still, smug writers the world over insist upon making them.
“Hey, man. I want the world to share my Art.”
No you don’t – you want people to think you’re cool. (And you are, man. You are.)

By the way: what happens to people when they sit down to write these lists?
To fit in with all the highbrow critics, shall I list a few releases you haven’t heard yet? Maybe an album that you’ve been told you’re supposed to like, but in all honesty… you just can’t… do it? Should I grace you with my sage wisdom, secretly leaning heavily towards whatever I’ve been listening to over the last couple weeks (you know, once it’s safe and I know what all the know-it-alls have been listening to) then throw some random reference out that only kind of makes sense? (“No you simpleton! Fleet Foxes don’t sound like the Byrds, they sound just like the Beach Boys!”) While I’m at it, maybe I should name-drop a couple ironic mainstream picks (“Dude, Britney is back!”) or the obligatory Hip Hop artist. (“Lil’ Wayne! You don’t love him? What are you, square? Don’t ya like to party?”)

I mean, c’mon I could reel out a list of Top 10 albums, but how could you trust me???

Look. I believe any review of anything anyone has done, should be offered up a solid month after it’s exposed to the rest of world – at minimum.
Why?
Because, time tells. Time tells and critics (aka Those Who Cannot Do) are blowhards who somehow get paid to tell you why you should like this or that and it’s just stupid. Time tells and I say all the great music marks a place and time in the listener’s life. Yea, verily, so says me. If no time has actually passed and therefore no places have really been visited, no experiences have been had whilst listening, how can you know what is really timeless?

I also find it highly suspicious when a critic cites a group/artist, names them the next Dylan or a “Diva” (Congrats on your Diva status! You’ve been officially recognized as petty, shallow and narcissistic!), and yet no one I know has ever heard of them. Even when I ask around. 9 times out of 10 those “next Dylans” are nowhere by their next album. In totally unrelated news, did you know that the Strokes, Hot Hot Heat and The Hives all have had two albums come out since they first “broke”? Anyway, back to the subject: I swear – someone has to be paying for these Breakthrough Artists. A Monopoly Man look-alike was sitting in a dark room somewhere, pulling strings. That’s it. It’s not “an unexpected groundswell” – it’s some creep in a darkened, smoke-filled room with bags of money all around, plotting the next Unexplained Phenomenon. And I’ll tell you something else: If I go to iTunes and find less reviews of an alleged “groundbreaking” and/or “genius” artist (or artists… c’mon, please stow that nitpicking) than of my own stuff, suspicion ends and I get to callin’ bullshit. Lets just say that less reviews of your stuff than of a Stavesacre album qualifies you for Bartender of the Year way before Breakthrough Artist of the Year.

Maybe – just maybe – the reason so many “Top 10” musical lists are ridiculous is because… there weren’t 10 musical efforts that were all that great?
For me, ’08 was kind of a dud. The music side of the year had a lot to live up to from ’07, and to be honest ’08 (much like the scientists and their “advances” toward hair restoration) was a let down. Sure, there were a couple highlights (not at all like the scientists), but I’m really hoping that ’09 picks it up a bit because as of right now it looks as if ’08 might not have even happened. (Well, it happened all right. I mean, I lost all the equity in my FreewayView Condo, and that didn’t happen in a wormhole or something. It was Real-Time.) I’m speaking here in regard to Rock n’ Roll. Geez, am I gonna have to explain this every step of the way?
Granted, the only reliable source I have for hearing about new music is Greene Records, but hey – not all of us get serviced by record labels or crack promotion teams. (Did you hear that, Boss Man?) Maybe I should consult a Harvard law professor to determine if I’m justified in stealing some new jams. Y’know – for research.

The questions are simple: What album from this last year was better to listen to every day than The Shins’ Wincing the Night Away or the first Modest Mouse album I’ve ever listened to more than once? What album this year made me anywhere near as pissed off that I never learned to play guitar than Iron and Wine’s the Shepherd’s Dog or even José González’ In Our Nature? As for the ROCK: Find me a better Rock album from last year than ‘07’s self-titled by Graveyard or Baroness’ Red Album. Seriously. Oh, and apparently Maylene and the Sons of Disaster are the only metal band that understands SOUL and MELODY when they’re out there screamin’ and carryin’ on. (Note to the 500 metal albums that came out that last year – get yer shit together.) Will someone please tell me how we ended up with new Panic! (Yes, I know – don’t care) At the Disco and Fall Out Boy albums, but nothing else described using any variation of Punk Rock that didn’t make me start laughing? Oh well, New Maps of Hell will have to do for another year.
And lastly, can someone explain to me how the Vaunted Indie Rock genre got CRUSHED by exactly one song from Kanye West in the race to create the Anthem of 2008?
* beat *
(Y’know, don’t do that. You know what song I’m talking about. You bought the single on iTunes. Yes, you did. And you know the words.)

So…

Chances are, you don’t own Beg, Plunder & Curse by Colour Revolt. This is a problem. Of the precious few legitimate Rock albums released this year, I name this one “King.” The mix is basically flawless – crisp, balanced, interesting and dynamic – all the things that we’re supposed to be hearing from bands now that production has so few limitations. While the music is all that it should be (Please pay attention, dear aspiring artists) what I love most about this album are the vocals. Jesse Coppenbarger’s voice is better than yours. In fact, he’s better at singing than you are… at doing whatever it is you do. (Don’t get all mad, it is what it is.) It has character without being some tired bullshit gimmick – heaven forbid. For as much attention as TV on the Radio and Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young Fleet Foxes have received, it actually pisses me off that I hear so little about this album. There are like, 3 magazines worth reading after purchase, and at least one of them, PASTE, took notice - let that be a lesson to you. Someone at Fat Possum should be out of a job and interviewing with me for a barbacking position. Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to take into consideration how over-qualified you are for the job.
This is the thing: Just imagine if Radiohead stopped mumbling over loops (don’t get me started) and wrote some damn SONGS – then add in a little anger, the voice of a Man and you’ve got Beg, Plunder and Curse. There’s something else here that I can’t classify or compare it with but I think that’s a good thing. (Can you believe that no one with money has recognized what this band could be and exploited it? Gawd. Why is it that the cats with dough are always the dumb ones? I officially demand, on behalf of the band and without their consent, a placement in the next modern era David Fincher film. Based on this album, they’re creepy enough. (And I’m talkin’ major placement here, Fisher. Don’t get weird.) This was easily my favorite Rock album of the year. Plus, the title reminds me of a game I used to play with my grandpa.

I read about Bon Iver’s For Emma, Forever Ago on somethingsomethingwords.com and 15 other sites, and I wanted to hate it so much that I almost never did hear it. (Did ya get that, Record Executives? Getting these snotty little brats to slobber all over your latest investment “family members” can actually be counterproductive. Watch this, then get back to me.)
Seriously though, so far so good. It’s no The Shepherd’s Dog but it’ll do in a pinch – a little on the sad side, but I’d say it’s more “lonely” than it is “sad.” I’ve had it for a little while now and find myself remembering it when I want to listen to “something else.” I can’t help but think of Damien Jurado at times (think Now That I’m In Your Shadow but with some serious falsetto sewn in to the fabric) and I say that because the music makes me feel good the way only lonely music can. By now most people that are familiar with it know that Justin Vernon went all Walden on this thing, which just makes the lonely feeling of the songs resonate a little more – less depressing, more… cozy. If Elliott Smith had been hanging out with this cat he might have felt a little better, if that makes any sense. There are classic Folk elements, but those falsettos lift the music above such a boring classification – listen to “The Wolves (Act 1 & 2)” and tell me you can’t imagine Cee-lo Green (think “Crazy” – a.k.a. the only Gnarls song you really know) jumping in there for a little backing vocals. Maybe a small Gospel choir. (Man! I got some great ideas! Justin – call me. We’re gonna walk up the steps together! We’ll throw that Grammy in their faces! Yeah!) Plus, great hair. Not the beard – the hair.
This is a fall to sleep or drive cross country album, which pretty much makes it an all-season album. What else could you ask for?

Having out-right dismissed the Kings of Leon as Disgusting Fashion Rock, I have to say that their latest… completely changed my opinion. Great melodies, great mix and a lot less skinny jeans and white Bob Hope shoes, there are moments on that album where I think I might actually pay to see them play. After wifey bought the advance from Only By The Night, “Sex On Fire,” my stance was softened a little – I heard what I would call a favorable comparison to old Springsteen and thought, “I’m still not sure if I ever liked Springsteen, but I like this.” Dirk sent me the song “Closer” and it was such a good jam that I immediately bought the full album. It’s actually – ahem – kind of good, if a bit “samey” by the last couple tracks. Makes me want to go out and get in some moderate trouble – that has to count for something, right?

Also: See The Hold Steady for further ventures towards this conspiracy to get me to become an actual Springsteen fan. (If there was any justice in the world, Bob Seger would be getting some mention with both these bands and their neo-retro stylings, jus’ sayin’.)

Here’s where I get into trouble. I liked Viva La Vida. There, I said it. I have no Indie credibility or Cool Status to lose, so I risk nothing by admitting what all you hateful cynics won’t: This is the last vestige of legitimate Arena Rock, and quite frankly it’s missed. I won’t bother with going into details or descriptors – it’s unnecessary because anyone with enough balls to listen to something so mass-produced and yet still sincere, owns the album already. Need a little shove to come over to the uncool side of the street? Listen to “42” or “Yes” and tell me you don’t love this music. Plus, Brian Eno. Now if only U2 can manage to put out something with more than four good jams and an iTunes commercial, we’ll all be in a better place.

By the way: Just because I’m suspicious of all the hype that Fleet Foxes seem to be getting doesn’t mean I don’t like their new album. I haven’t given it nearly enough attention to really have an opinion – certainly not enough to say that it does or doesn’t warrant being on all these lists. I can say that when I first got the album I wasn’t immediately interested – seemed like a kind of sissified Neil Young wearing My Morning Jacket and kicking me in the Shins then running away on a Band of Horses. (Ta-daa!) Tell me you don’t hear something near that on “Ragged Wood” and I’ll take it back. There are moments that I’ve immediately enjoyed, and moments where I just thought… what? The fact that the first real song you hear, “White Winter Hymnal,” runs a melody so similar to one in The Byrds’ “Turn, Turn, Turn” doesn’t help my Spidey Senses from tingling, but I like good music so… patience, that’s all.

Quickly: I mentioned Iron & Wine’s The Shepherd’s Dog earlier. It has been elevated to classic status for me by now and possesses a lyrical mastery that puts most pretentious Indie types to shame. Any way, because I only watch the best shows, I watch CSI. (Only the Vegas one – please hold David “Howdy Doody” Caruso or the unforgivable waste of Gary Sinise that is the NY show) One of the more poignant of recent CSI episodes, “Goodbye and Good Luck,” begins with “Carousel” off The Shepherd’s Dog. Unfortunately it’s nearly impossible to see this happen, because those fascists over at CBS hate things that are good. (But if I could get a placement like that I would literally pee my pants and not be able to stop.) The song made the show that much better, which is pretty hard to do, and it brought a lot of well-deserved attention to Sam Beam. No doubt, some record executive is probably going to sue because they didn’t get enough money off the gig, but until then at least somebody got some. You can try and track it down… I have and now I’m tired. Go for it.
And since you’ve somehow read all this way, how about this:

Also, the Gnarls Barkley mention got me wondering what last year’s One Hitter would be. MGMT? “Electric Feel” is a great jam but aside form a couple tracks that album just seems like… a hobby. M.I.A.? “Paper Planes” is great if you smoke pot I guess but… I don’t. Entertainment Weekly has Robyn’s self-titled on two different “Best of” lists but, after my due diligence I’ve determined there must have been a misprint. (She was on a Snoop Dogg hit, for those of you who knew as much about her as I did. Doesn’t that just mean… it was a Snoop hit? Maybe I don’t understand the rules.)

What I missed and therefore am not allowed to have a condescending opinion about:
Thrice: The Alchemy Index Volumes III & IV – Gotta be honest, the whole Roman Numerals/Volumes thing has never been appealing to me. Might have seemed like a good idea at the time, but most of us know how that typically ends up. I kinda just don’t want to know. I think they’re great, let’s keep it that way.
The Gaslight Anthem: The ’59 Sound – Heard it a couple times, didn’t hate it but didn’t have enough time to decide if I liked it. Springsteen was never a huge fave, or did you catch that?
P.S. Just what the heck is going on with the Springsteen theme? It’s like “sailors” in ’07.

Other Awesomenesses:
Ricky Gervais is really funny in Ghost Town – don’t read the reviews, just rent the movie.
Plus: Kristen Wiig, obviously.
Don Cheadle’s Traitor was great and I’ll bet the majority of you still haven’t seen it – even though you can rent it for $5 and watch it on the ridiculously huge TV you bought last year so you would spend less money going out. It was roughly 1000 times better than The Happening (“Hey! Watch out for that wind! Run away from the wind!”), and you probably paid $12 to go out and see that crap - and had to deal with a room full of That Guy. Way to blow it.
You saw Iron Man, so you’re covered there.
The Dark Knight was excellent, but after I leave my creative meeting with Justin Vernon, I’m gonna get together with my man-crush and discuss the way Batman should talk when he’s Batman.
Tropic Thunder – good enough, but to That Other Guy: Thank you for doing the “Full Retard” bit in character, even after I said, “No – I haven’t seen it yet.” Seriously – it was way funnier seeing Robert Downey Jr. doing it after you told me all the good lines – I knew what to look for. It’s always funny to hear the punch line before you hear the joke. You should be in movies.
XBOX 360 is wonderful but that controller still sucks.
Wii isn’t really exercising, but it feels like it is. What does that mean?
MySpace officially sucks – at least on Facebook I don’t have to keep entering weird non-words every time I want to do something. (And seriously, I don’t appreciate being asked to trust a little fine print box saying the answer to the password is “not case-sensitive” while looking at something that seems conspicuously case-sensitive. Lame.) MySpace blew up rather quickly for something sold for that much dough – I guess we should have known it would devolve into crappiness just as quickly. Facebook used to seem boring now it just seems logical: Turns out, I don’t want to commit so much time to commitment-free social networking. Plus: Less Whores.

P.S. Yes we did. Scoreboard, bitches!

P.S.S. Al Davis must go. Oh, yeah: I’m a lifer Raider fan but… what’s happening here?

P.S.S.S. anyone want odds on Letterman reading this?