Friday, December 24, 2010

A Very Flawed Christmas 2010: A Flaws Holiday Mix



01. Tom Waits - Christmas Card From a Hooker in Minneapolis
02. Darlene Love - Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)
03. The Pretenders - 2000 Miles
04. Bright Eyes - Blue Christmas
05. The Boy Least Likely To - The First Snowflake
06. Slow Club - Christmas TV
07. Stars - Fairytale of New York

08. Casiotone for the Painfully Alone - Cold White Christmas
09. Los Campesinos! - Kindle a Flame in Her Heart
10. Tsunami - Could Have Been Christmas
11. Okkervil River - Listening to Otis Redding at Home During Christmas
12. Low - Taking Down the Tree
13. She & Him - Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas
14. The Prayers and Tears of Arthur Digby Sellers - Christmas Card to a Hooker in Minneapolis

download A Very Flawed Christmas 2010: A Flaws Holiday Mix

stream A Very Flawed Christmas 2010: A Flaws Holiday Mix at 8tracks.com


I had hoped to get this up earlier in the season, but circumstances conspired against me. I have been wanting to release a holiday mix for some years now, and I am happy to have finally done it. No slight or offense is intended toward those who do not celebrate Christmas; I interpret Christmas as more a social holiday than a religious one at this point. Maybe next year I will pull together a Hanukkah mix.

Enjoy, and leave any comments below. And, of course, happy and safe holidays to everybody.

-tjh

Sunday, September 19, 2010

After the Glow: Pavement, 2010.09.17

Pavement/Kurt Vile and the Violators
Mann Center for the Performing Arts
Philadelphia, PA
2010.09.17

"Did y'all see the Dead here? This seems like the kind of place the Dead would have played when they... when they were alive."

The cognitive dissonance may have been obvious, but it was too tempting for Stephen Malkmus not to take the bait. After all, this is their victory lap, their vindication, their chance to enjoy finally being the superstars that everyone told them they should have been throughout their career.

For this blogger, this evening was the culmination of sixteen years of waiting, anticipation, and frustration. Having been a fan of Pavement since 1994, I had faced one hurdle after another in my attempts to see the band live over the years, starting with Billy Corgan's "if they play we don't play" Lollapalooza 1994 ultimatum and culminating with an unfortunately-timed workplace injury involving a pulled neck muscle on the day of the band's final Philadelphia show on the Terror Twilight tour of 1999. Sure, in the years since I had seen Malkmus play a handful of shows with the Jicks, and those were some good shows, but the Jucks material never seemed to live up to the Pavement catalogue, which Malkmus steadfastly refused to delve into with his new band. I understand the impulse; Malkmus wanted to be seen as a currently vital artist, and not live off of his past as a nostalgia act. Perhaps part of his reasoning was also that he knew that Pavement's music was a direct result of these five individuals playing together, and that playing the songs with what would amount to a pickup band would render them defanged.

Of course, over the years I had heard stories of Pavement's legendarily sloppy, unrehearsed live shows that seemed to run the gamut from inspired but shambolic to completely disastrous, but after 16 years of waiting none of this mattered. As it happened, it was also completely irrelevant. Pavement 2010 may be the same guys, but they are nevertheless a different band than Pavement 1994.

Having never seen Pavement during its initial run, I can't comment much on specific differences between the two bands, but using old YouTube and Slow Century footage as points of comparison, I can confirm that Pavement 2010 is a much tighter, more well-oiled machine. The playing was just precise enough, while still remaining loose and spontaneous enough to not sound tired or overrehearsed. In the years since Pavement's demise, Malkmus has recast himself from sardonic slacker crown prince to a consummate professional and virtuoso, albeit one with a quick wit and cyncial sense of humor. The Malkmus fronting Pavement 2010 strikes the middle ground between these roles; he still appears all business and unsmiling onstage, but his demeanor has loosened up while playing these songs, and he injects enough ad-libs and spontaneous vocal hiccups into his delivery to betray an almost giddy sense of fun and excitement. As for the rest of the guys, they may be older, they may have lost hair in some places, grown more hair in other places, and put on some body mass in all places in general, but they were so radiant and energetic that it didn't matter. Scott "Spiral Stauirs" Kannberg may have changed so much that one would scarcely recognize him on the street, but once he started singing "Kennel District" one could not mistake him for anybody else. Mark Ibold still looks like a teenager in a pop-punk band with his hair flopping as he jumps up and down with the bass line. Bob Nastanovich is still an unpredictable madman, Pavement's secret weapon, except now he has a wireless mic and is no longer tethered to the stage area.And Steve West... well, he's still Steve West,

And the audience? The audience has perhaps changed most of all. I'm not quite sure how or why Pavement's following and legacy has changed so much in the past decade, but to a packed Mann Center (a venue that Pavement NEVER would have been able to command during its initial run), the band was received as rapturously as a religious figure might be. The band members seemed genuinely appreciative of this attention, and the energy and excitement was palpable from my vantage point in the third row. The mix of people was remarkable as well; there were veterans who had seen Pavement many times over the years and were happy to get a chance to see them off fittingly and say goodbye, there were people in my position who were old enough to have seen them the first time but missed out for one reason or another, there were even eight year-olds who knew every word to every song. This was the following that everyone told Pavement they should have had in the mid-90s, but which they could never achieve. This was their vindication. The band had a lot of fun and had an undeniable chemistry. I understand Malkmus especially not wanting to become a nostalgia act, and therefore resiting the urge to reunite for good. On the other hand, these guys have something special together and it would be a shame, and a loss for all of us as listeners, if they didn't find a way to continue working together in some capacity. Unfortunately, I do believe that the purpose of this tour is spelled out in no uncertain terms on the back cover of the tour book, which depicts a pair of puckered lips, a stack of money, and a small bird perched atop saying, "Bye-bye." Pavement broke up before being able to say goodbye the first time. They're coming back to give us a proper goodbye, but yes, they are going to take our money while doing it.

And frankly, with the quality of the show they put on (in terms of performance and setlist), I'd happily give them my money. The band opened with a sublime reading of fan favorite "Grounded," took a dig at final album Terror Twilight (and indeed, the show featured only one song from this much-maligned album), and then featured a hyperactive performance of the closest they ever had to a hit single, "Cut Your Hair," as the second song of the evening. They blasted their way through 24 more songs over the span of an hour and 45 minutes, all of them well-loved fan favorites, all of them being sung along back to the band by the entire adoring crowd. There was no "Summer Babe" and no "Carrot Rope," but given what we did get, who am I to complain?

Besides, there's always this Tuesday in New York!

Setlist:
Grounded
Cut Your Hair
Kennel District
Heckler Spray
Elevate Me Later
Frontwards
Silence Kid
Starlings of the Slipstream
Box Elder
Unfair
Fight This Generation
Shady Lane
Perfume-V
Spit on a Stranger
Stereo
Two States
In the Mouth a Desert
Conduit for Sale!
We Dance
Rattled by the Rush
Range Life
---------------------------------
Date with IKEA
Trigger Cut
Stop Breathin'
---------------------------------
(Malkmus playing "Old to Begin" during second encore break)
Gold Soundz
Here

I did record the entire set, thanks to my recording assistant Paul Mc. I had inadvertently left my external mics at home, so I had to record using the Zoom H2's onboard mics with the recorder in Paul's pocket, which is not the ideal recording setup and led to some occasional muffling and sonic anomalies, but overall it is a remarkably clean recording and sounds much better than I was expecting it to. Enjoy!

Download 2010.09.17 - Pavement as a .zip file.

Thursday, April 22, 2010

I can't define it, but I know it when I see hear it.


Tonight my friend Siobhan and I attended the Philadelphia "Get Together," a listening party for the new New Pornographers album (see what I did there?), Together. The event was held at Kung Fu Necktie in the Fishtown section of Philadelphia, and featured free PBR (of course), PBR-branded chapstick (thankfully not PBR flavored or scented!) and all kinds of giveaways, including a pretty awesome-sounding, unlabeled spring mix compiled by Carl Newman that, 5 tracks in, seems to consist mostly of vaguely psychedelic/garage-flavored obscure rock songs.

As for the album itself, the only song that I had been exposed to before tonight was the fairly rocking "Your Hands (Together)," which Matador had already released as an mp3 download. I was aware that first official single, "Crash Years," had been released, but I had not yet heard it. The only other pieces of information that I knew about the album were that Annie Clark of St. Vincent and Will Sheff of Okkervil River both made guest appearances on the record.

The album kicks off with "Moves," an arrestingly catchy Carl-led power pop gem featuring bright, crisp production that gives the song a sheen but doesn't defang the power of the hook; it sounds arena-ready yet still raw and immediate, and frankly after two listens to the album I think it may be second only to "Mass Romantic" as the best opening song on a New Pornographers album, and in spite of the glossier production the song presents a welcome return to the general sound and feel of the New Pornographer's second album, Electric Version.

"Moves" proves to be only the beginning of an absolutely brilliant opening three-song salvo that continues with singles "Crash Years" and "Your Hands (Together)" - which, by the way, becomes a completely different song when blared through the PA system in a bar. I found out tonight just how much better that song becomes the louder it is played. By this point in the album, you would be forgiven for thinking that it could end up besting even Mass Romantic.

The fourth track, "Silver Jenny Dollar," the first of three Dan Bejar-fronted songs, finds the Destroyer frontman in unusually poppy and accessible mode, and on first listen it seemed a bit of a let down. It's not that it was a bad song, it just didn't seem to offer a lot to hang on to. It fared better on second listen, however, perhaps because I was paying more attention to the song itself the second time through. "Silver Jenny Dollar" is followed by the Kathryn Calder-spotlighting "Sweet Talk, Sweet Talk," the song that ended up providing the biggest surprise of the album; ever since she was added to the lineup, I have found Calder to be the weak link in the New Pornographers. She just never seemed to mesh with the rest of the band, especially when attempting to sing Neko's songs during live shows. She totally makes this song work, however, and avoids making it this album's equivalent of "Failsafe." The first half of the album wraps up with an engaging ballad-ish Neko Case number called "My Shepherd."

Halfway through the album, side 1 seems to hold up as one of the most consistent album sides the Pornographers have recorded thus far. This is obviously an immediate gut reaction and not the result of extended reflection and evaluation, but right now I would rank it at least equal with the first side of Electric Version, possibly even edging that album's first half out. It is certainly a more coherent and engaging listen than the first sides of Twin Cinema and Challengers.

The second half begins just as promisingly with the second Bejar-led song of the collection, "If You Can't See My Mirrors." As poppy as "Silver Jenny Dollar" had sounded, "Mirrors" may well be the most immediate and accessible song Bejar has written yet, and it does not suffer for it. On the contrary, it is a perfect song to kick off the second side of the platter, setting an infectiously playful tone. This gives way another Newman rocker, "Up in the Dark," that cheekily seems to crib its drumbeat from Simple Minds, coming off as a harder-edged older brother of "Don't You (Forget About Me)" - all it's missing is Carl shouting "Hey, hey, hey, HEYYYY!!!" at the beginning.

It is at this point that the album begins to lose steam and reveal its almost impossibly front-loaded nature. The well-meaning but ultimately clumsy Neko Case-sung "Valkyrie in the Roller Disco" presents the first lull in the sequencing of the album, and the remaining songs never quite recover from it. Even Bejar's remaining composition, "Daughters of Sorrow," seems somewhat lugubrious and half-hearted, as though the entire band had completely spent themselves on the first eight songs. Still, those first eight songs are almost unbelievably solid and consistent, and it is quite possible that the back third of the album will leave a better impression on me when I am listening to it in an optimal environment (i.e., not a loud bar).

My second time through I focused my attention on the instrumentation, trying to pick out the contributions of Clark and Sheff. It did not sound to me as though either one contributed vocals, although it's possible that I just didn't detect them over the din in the bar. The third Bejar song, "Daughters of Sorrow," seemed to have a distinctly Okkervil River-ish quality to the guitar tone and the interplay of the rhythm section, so I am thinking that Sheff may have at least made an appearance on that song. Throughout the album I heard several guitar lines that sounded as though they could have been the work of Ms. Clark, but I did not take not of which songs they were.

Overall, this record has immediately surpassed Twin Cinema and Challengers, and established itself as my favorite New Pornographers album in seven years. I heartily recommend it, and I look forward to being able to spend more time with it.

Also, I would be remiss if I didn't thank Siobhan for coming out, having fun, and just being awesome in general, Matador for presenting these listening parties, and Brian from Beggars for all his hard work organizing and hosting the event tonight.

Together will be released on May 4. If you pre-order the CD or LP from the Matador online store, you will receive a free three-song 7" single of non-album cover songs with your order.

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Lifting the weight.

In which I take a step back from the controversy I have inadvertently stirred up, tackle something a lot more lighthearted, and hope that you, dear readers, will follow me down this road.

Aside from that pesky LP which will not be named, the other big release that I absolutely had to get my hands on this Record Store Day was the Life of the World to Come DVD from my favorite band, the Mountain Goats. I had already seen a screening of the film, at the New Jersey Film Festival a few weeks prior, and had intended to write a piece on it then, but circumstances forced to delay my write-up. As it is, I think a piece such as this is a necessary tension-breaker at this point, so it works out.

The film itself, directed by the talented Rian Johnson, the auteur behind Brick and the exuberantly fun The Brothers Bloom, is simultaneously simple and deceptively high-concept. John Darnielle returns to an auditorium in Pomona College in which he had once played a recital in his preadolescence. Accompanying Darnielle occasionally on vocals is his one-time musical companion, Rachel Ware. Darnielle and Ware perform songs from the most recent tMG album, The Life of the World to Come, an album of mostly reflective, ponderous (note that I intend to use this word without the negative connotation that usually accompanies it; I mean ponderous in the most objective sense possible), and low-key songs that are each titled after a Bible verse. The performance takes place on a mostly bare stage in an empty auditorium, the only audience being the film crew, the camera, and the silence.

Right from the beginning, it is clear that this is not your typical rock performance documentary film. This becomes even more obvious once it becomes clear that the entire film was actually shot on a single camera with one hour-long, unbroken shot. The camera follows Darnielle and Ware as they enter the college hall and make their way to the auditorium, the stage dressed with a piano, Darnielle's acoustic guitar, a stool, microphones, some portable lamps, and, most curiously, a circular track surrounding the performance area.

Anyone who has heard the album knows what to expect musically; these performances simply strip away the veneer of production from the album renditions, and improve most of the songs in the process. What I find most compelling about this film, however, and what I'd like to talk about, is the unique dynamic between performer and filmmaker. Ultimately, this film does not seem to be simply documenting a performance from afar, as the films of D.A. Pennebakker aim to do, nor is it using a live performance to weave an impressionistic story as the performance documentaries of Martin Scorsese and Jonathan Demme do. Rather, this film seems, more than even Demme's documentaries, to display a rare synergy and collaboration between filmmaker and musical performer.

Darnielle appears to be somewhat uncomfortable and awkward through much of the film, only losing his self-consciousness once he begins to really inhabit a song a few lines in. He speaks awkwardly to the camera as if speaking to a live audience, but seems to consciously keep his remarks less verbose and more relevant than they ordinarily would be; while this is likely due to not having the exchange of energy from the crowd, he still appears to be conscious of the banter in which he is engaging. Furthermore, the gorgeously crisp cinematography from the constantly-moving yet never restless digital camera often uncomfortably invades Darnielle's space, almost as if challenging him or goading him to retreat further into the song. Throughout the film you occasionally see crew members running across the stage to adjust something. You hear ambient sounds invading the experience as the cinematographer attaches his camera to the dolly on the track for a smooth orbit shot or as a member of the crew knocks something over. Crew members make constant adjustments to the levels on configuration of lighting. It seems as if Johnson's manipulation of the environment and willingness to invade Darnielle's space is a conscious attempt to remove Darnielle from his comfort zone, to push him and see what he will do. It is startlingly, unsettlingly intimate - as someone who has seen Darnielle perform some 35 times over the years, starting when he would play half-capacity shows at the Khyber in Philadelphia, this is by far the most intimate performance I have ever witnessed. It was simultaneously thrilling, uncomfortable, and ultimately fascinating.

The DVD also includes a lo-fi 45-minute Q&A with Johnson and Darnielle and is packaged in a gorgeous book designed by the wonderful Horse & Buggy Press and featuring song-by-song liner note commentary from Darnielle. If you can still get your hands on a copy, I highly recommend it, both for tMG fans and for fans of performance documentary or interesting cinematography.

Below, I've included a taste of the film by embedding the powerful rendition of "Ezeiel 7 and the Permanent Efficacy of Grace" from the film, as well as Johnson's first collaboration with the Mountain Goats: the mind-bendingly brilliant video for "Woke Up New" from the Mountain Goats' 2006 album, Get Lonely.





Monday, April 19, 2010

Clarification, "good guys," and some free music.

I would like to think that my message was sufficiently conveyed in the subtext of my previous post, but just to be sure, because in the conversation that is now emerging in the wake of my post, it seems that some have perhaps misconstrued my main points. I would like, therefore, to make these central points explicit in an easy-to-parse bullet-point format.
  • It was not my intention to tar all indie record stores with the same brush. Just as with most subcultures, there are good seeds and bad seeds. I recognize that, have recognized that for some time, and I therefore tend to only patronize (and try to be a vocal champion of) those who I consider to be, to put it in very reductionist and polarizing terms which are perhaps a but disingenuous but ultimately kind of necessary, the "good guys."
  • Nor was it my intention to disparage the good folks at Record Store Day. As I said in the previous entry, on the first Record Store Day I visited, if memory serves, five shops, arriving at the first one an hour before opening to find that I was the only person crazy enough to do so. Anybody who went to a record store this past Saturday knows how exponential the growth has been in the past two years. That first year, there were very few publicized exclusives, and they were all, I believe, from upper-tier indie labels - Matador, Merge, and Beggars, as I recall. The co-opting of Record Store Day by major labels (Warner Bros. in particular) has been curious to watch, and ultimately a necessary step in the growth of Record Store Day that unfortunately causes the onset of the standard independent paradox - one feels happy for the growth and sustainability of the event, but at the same time feels a slight sting as it no longer feels like it is yours alone. It's like watching your favorite band suddenly become huge, which is obviously a sensation I know somewhat well. But seriously - no anger toward the Record Store Day people should be read into my post. I know they are doing what they can with what they have, and frankly, the sometimes disorganized and ramshackle nature of the proceedings lends it a charm that has been steadily disappearing from record shopping culture since the rise of the internet.
  • I am not a fan of individual "speculators" who purchase rare records for the sole purpose of resale value, and I have not tried to hide this at any time. Usually, somebody who knows the resale value of these records is himself (or herself) a music lover, and therefore knows how it feels not to be able to get one's hands on something one wants due to the opportunism and greed of others. So what you have, then, is music lovers screwing over other music lovers for a few bucks. I know the economy is tough, and I am not going to judge you as a person if you do this. However, I am going to make a judgment call on your particular action and say it's a shitty thing to do. It doesn't make you a terrible person, but it's still a terrible thing to do to one of your own. And I know that this point will likely get accusations of having a "holier than thou" attitude, but frankly, I think having principles and sticking to them is underrated these days, and I'm not going to back down on mine.
  • The thorniest issue in the resulting discussion revolves around the one that I feel most strongly about, and which was meant to be the main thrust and eventual target of my ire and frustration: the stores themselves that withhold this stock from the customers supporting the brick-and-mortar stores to flip on eBay, usually for exorbitant Buy-It-Now prices. Record stores flipping products on eBay, sometimes at inflated prices, is nothing new, but it's something that has seldom been talked about. And in the past, and even in general, I don't necessarily have a problem with this; it is an example of stores adapting to a new economic climate and business model. What does it matter if an old Velvet Underground 45 goes for $100 on eBay, or if it sits collecting dust in the basement of an obscure record store in Brooklyn with a $100 price tag on it? For better or for worse, this is a capitalist, free market economy. Supply and demand applies in person as well as in online transactions. However, the Record Store Day stock is another store. In the words of the founders of RSD,
    This is the one day that all of the independently owned record stores come together with artists to celebrate the art of music. Special vinyl and CD releases and various promotional products are made exclusively for the day and hundreds of artists in the United States and in various countries across the globe make special appearances and performances. Festivities include performances, cook-outs, body painting, meet & greets with artists, parades, djs spinning records and on and on. Metallica officially kicked off Record Store Day at Rasputin Music in San Francisco on April 19, 2008 and Record Store Day is now celebrated the third Saturday every April.
In other words, it is meant to be a community event. As I interpret it, and I believe that Ms. Colliton and Mr. Kurtz confirm this in their comments on my previous post, the customers are just as important a part of Record Store Day as the stores and the musicians are. It's about what happens when the three come together. As somebody who spent a significant amount of his free time growing up simply hanging out in an independent record store, and later becoming an employee in this same store (RIP Full Circle Records), the idea of community and socialization is important to my conception of what an independent shop represents. The brick-and-mortar customers are the lifeblood of these shops, and I read RSD as a way of rewarding them for their continuing loyalty to a business model that many have written off as anachronistic.

By withholding these releases, by not even giving the brick-and-mortar customers a chance at these releases, the record stores have in a sense broken an unspoken pact of responsibility. They have sold out the patrons who would support them and keep them afloat for a quicker buck. These shops do not deserve our support or our patronage if they are going to disrespect their customers so callously and blatantly. I have seen some comments from others stating that they would rather their record store flip the product without giving them a shot at it if it means they can compete with Wal Mart and iTunes - my point of view (and, again, my principles show on my sleeve here) is that we don't need stores that have no respect for or loyalty to the customers who support them. Loyalty goes both ways, folks.

No, we will never put an end to record flipping and amateur eBay entrepreneurship. That is just a fact of our economic system. However, in a capitalist environment, the consumer can vote with his or her wallet. We can point out the stores that are betraying their customers. We can make examples of them. We can spread the word. We can shame them. We can stop supporting them until they give us the same loyalty and respect we would give them.

Frankly, I am just happy to see that some conversation has started as a result of this post. I am a bit overwhelmed at the amount of attention that my little navel-gazing and venting blog post has attracted in a short amount of time, but if it gets people thinking and talking about this, and perhaps deciding what role principles should play in their own conception of retail ethos, then I have more than done my job. I want to thank those of you who have supported me, spread the link through internet fora, agreed with me, or even challenged or disagreed with me. Just keep talking about it. Keep the discussion going. Things can change.

For those of you who have gotten through the preachy and self-righteous portion of this post, I'd like to direct you to some of the good guys that I have had the pleasure of dealing with int he independent music retail world. Please, whenever you can, support these establishments, because they truly do deserve it.

And, finally, to reward those of you who have made it all the way through my screed, here is the promised free music. First, let's foil the entrepreneurs who are trying to profit by flipping copies of the Blur Record Store Day UK exclusive. The reunited band released their first new song in seven years, "Fool's Day," in a limited edition of 1,000 7-inch singles that are obviously woefully sold out. Fortunately, the band have made the song available to anybody who wants it for the price of an e-mail address. Click through below to download "Fool's Day" in either 320 kbps mp3 or uncompressed wav format.

Blur - Fool's Day (download)

Next, don't fret that you didn't get your hands on one of the 600 copies of the Hold Steady LP. Instead, courtesy of NPR, you can stream the entire
Heaven Is Whenever album and listen to it as often as you went until it is released on May 4 by Vagrant Records!

the Hold Steady - Heaven Is Whenever (stream)

NPR is also offering a full free preview of the new Broken Social Scene record,
Forgiveness Rock Record, also out May 4 on Arts & Crafts.



And, finally, experience the sheer addictive awesomeness that is the new LCD Soundsystem record,
This Is Happening, courtesy of their own damn selves. LCD really is getting better with each album, and I highly recommend giving this a listen or ten. This Is Happening is released on May 18.

LCD Soundsystem - This Is Happening (stream)

I just want to give a huge thank you to Eric Harvey and the New York Magazine Vulture Blog for helping to spread my thoughts and get conversation going, and another thank you to all of you who are participating in the conversation.

Sunday, April 18, 2010

See also: devouring one's own young, biting the hand that feeds, and other clichés.

So. Yesterday was the third annual Record Store Day.

RSD is my favorite holiday, because I am a nerd. (The fact that I even consider RSD a holiday should tell you that, obviously). I have been attending and eagerly snapping up copies of the various exclusive goods produced and sold commemorating this day since it began in 2008.

(Here's where this post may start to seem a bit emo. It is not emo. Self-righteous and wistful, yes. But when you get down to it, I'm an idealist. Spoiler alert: I know that these are just records and this in the big scheme of things, this does not matter. I know that. But I do believe in principles, and ultimately, that the violation of these principles is what I am on about.)

I always manage to find the dark lining in everything somehow, and naturally, Record Store Day is no exception. For those of you who may not be completely aware of RSD, here's a quick breakdown: it began in 2008 as a way, to celebrate the local, independent brick-and-mortar record store as a meaningful community space and source of socialization, knowledge, and, yes, purchasing music. At least this is the way I understand it, and this is what the day continues to mean to me. It is about much more than the actual stores, it is about the spirit of the stores, and about the patrons who support and love these stores. The day itself is a community-based celebration involving in-store performances, contests, fun community events organized by local record stores, and the availability of special, usually very limited-run exclusive releases from independent-friendly artists.

The first RSD was pretty low-key, last-minute, not well-publicized, and frankly kind of disorganized. There were maybe 8-10 exclusives, all, according to my memory, offered by indie labels. It took visiting 5 different shops, but I eventually had acquired everything I had been looking for. In 2009, the first thing that struck me was how much bigger it had gotten in a year. Instead of 10 exclusive releases, I think there were closer to 50. Furthermore, many of these releases, curiously enough, were being offered by major labels, who seemed to be doing some music-nerd PR by claiming to support independent record stores (even as they offer countless iTunes exclusives, but that's another angry blog post, as even indies are guilty of that). All of a sudden, RSD seemed to be co-opted by the majors and turned into a much larger event. Sure enough, RSD was a clusterfuck last year - I arrived at Vintage Vinyl shortly after opening to find the line out the door. Still, with enough searching I managed to get everything I had been looking for last year, including the insanely popular Flaming Lips/Black Keys split 7" single and the coveted Jesus Lizard 7" singles collection.

This year was the biggest year yet - the official PDF of RSD releases was 10 pages long. Among the list, there was a clear gem of a release - an early, vinyl-only release of Heaven is Whenever, the new album from the Hold Steady, on clear vinyl and in a screen-printed sleeve, limited to (depending on the source you used) 600, 625, or 650 copies. (For the purposes of the rest of this article, I am going to be assuming the 600 figure is correct, as that is the number I have seen used most often). This release was more than two weeks prior to Heaven's official May 4 street date. It was quite obvious to me that I would not be scoring this record, although that certainly did not stop me from trying.

So, predictably, I did not get my hands or even my eyes on a copy of this record. No surprise there. Also predictably, a good portion of the run has already shown up on eBay. Again, no surprise there. This brings us to the elephant in the room (speaking of clichés). The idea of people buying these records just to flip them on eBay is unfortunate but also unavoidable. However, the idea of independent record stores, whose lifeblood is the devoted, music nerd customer, and for whom Record Store Day ought to be a thank you to and celebration of the customers who have kept them alive and viable even during difficult economic times, is frankly kind of reprehensible. And yes, I am making the charge that most of the copies of this record (as well as other Record Store Day exclusives) are not individual vinyl speculators, but rather independent record stores who acquired this stock with the implicit understanding that the patrons of the record store would not be exploited.

As of this writing, there are 18 copies of the limited RSD pressing of Heaven is whenever currently active on eBay, with 13 copies already sold. This is roughly 5% of the entire run of the record, which is a significant amount. The cheapest copy sold for $89; on the other end of the spectrum, one copy went for a whopping $199. It is worth noting that this seller, j_spo from Brooklyn, is selling or has already sold most of the RSD exclusives from this year, and has no other recent sales. The fact that he has/had all of the most in-demand exclusives suggests to me that this is not an individual but rather a record store. I could be wrong, but the acquisition of the Hold Steady record, the Beastie Boys record, AND the John Lennon singles set seems suspicious to me. Also note the use of the Buy It Now or Best Offer feature, as well as the uniformity and utter lack of real description in the item description field. So, yes, I am calling this guy out. It smells like a rotten indie store selling out the patrons who have supported it.

See also eBay user beck*hansen. The alleged Mr. Hansen, located in Waterville, Maine, has 13 RSD2010 items for sale on eBay, including a copy of the Hold Steady Record. He has also already sold 64 RSD items, including a whopping FOUR COPIES of the Hold Steady LP. So, yes, this guy allegedly had scored five copies of the Hold Steady LP to flip. Am I seriously to believe he is not an independent record store owner?

And let's not leave out record stores who are blatantly flipping this product after presumably withholding it from their potential dedicated customers by advertising their name in their eBay handle. Yes, I'm looking at you, Eclipse Records. Just because you are not using an exorbitant buy it now figure does not make your betrayal of your customers any less reprehensible.

This may seem like a lot of whining, and okay, maybe it kind of is. It doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things. It just really makes me angry to see record stores publicly buy into the whole circle jerk concept of celebrating and rewarding the customers with limited-run releases and special events while simultaneously selling them out to the highest bidder without even giving them a crack at it first. I would love to see the Record Store Day folks crack down on this and take action against offending stores by blacklisting them from participation in future Record Store Day events and denying them access to RSD-exclusive merchandise, but my guess is they will not do that. So, in lieu of this, I propose that anyone who finds themselves caring even a little bit about indie retail ethos to please repost this, link to this, e-mail it to friends and allies, or find another way to share this with as many people as possible. If anybody has any connection with Record Store Day officials, please forward it to them. And let's all agree not to support record flippers by not buying the product on eBay, and if a local record store is engaging in the flipping, please let them know that you are aware of it and that you will not be supporting them until they stop devouring their own young. In a volatile economic climate, record stores are already an endangered species, and if the ones who survive continue to betray the trust of those who support them, they may find that support gone when they need it the most.

Also, props and a big Flaws endorsement to Vintage Vinyl in Fords, NJ and Princeton Record Exchange in Princeton, NJ, two record stores that have always been reliable to me on Record Store Day and on every other day of the year and who do not sell out their customers by flipping their own product. When in New Jersey, please support them!

Thursday, March 11, 2010

You let loss be your guide: Broken Bells, 2010.03.10



Last night I had the privilege of seeing the fourth-ever show by Broken Bells, the highly-anticipated, internet-hyped collaboration between James Mercer of The Shins and production powerhouse Brian Burton, aka Danger Mouse. Only one day removed from the release of their self-titled debut album, the somewhat unlikely pair, who had worked together on last year's superlative Dark Night of the Soul project, played to a packed house of eager yet coolly restrained concertgoers in Brooklyn's hipster haven, Music Hall of Williamsburg.

After a brief set by Montreal-based Plants and Animals, who played a pleasant and fun if not particularly memorable set, the headlining act began to take the stage. The cure duo of stars was augmented for live performance by five sidemen, playing various combinations of lead guitar, keyboards/synths, percussion, and bass, along with backing vocals. Mercer himself stuck to guitar and lead vocals the entire evening; Burton, on the other hand, showed his versatility while jumping back and forth between live drums, guitar, and organ.

The performance from the band was almost meek, especially considering the amount of hype; the band played capably and certainly proved their chops, but displayed a lack of adventurousness by simply playing through the entire album, note-for-note, in order for the main set of the show. The band eschewed lighting effect, opting instead to play the entire show with a series of psychedelic animations projected onto them from the mixing desk, presenting a visual effect that reminded me of Andy Warhol and the Velvet Underground's Exploding Plastic Inevitable. The visuals certainly matched the music, which continues Burton's recent fascination with '60s psychedelia evident in his work on the second Gnarls Barkley album and his production on Beck's
Modern Guilt. Still, though, I couldn't escape the feeling through the show that the band, and Mercer in particular, were using the projections as just a way to draw attention away from the people actually playing the music.

After the main set was finished, the lack of inspiration seemed to carry over to the audience, which applauded half-heartedly for the obligatory encore. Fortunately, having already run through their entire original repertoire, things loosened up and felt much more spontaneous and alive for the encore. First, Mercer and Burton played a short but sweet cover of Neil Young's "Don't Let It Bring You Down," then the rest of the band came out for a rocking "Crimson and Clover." The crowd ate this up, and finally seemed to believe in the band. Unfortunately, the show was over at this point. "All right, let's get a drink!" Mercer exclaimed before he exited the stage, almost as if he was aware of just how underwhelming the show had been.

Mercer has a natural ear for melody, and the embellishments by Burton do make for a nice listen on record. However, anyone who has seen the Shins live knows that Mercer seems less than comfortable in the spotlight. One would have hoped that his forming a project with one of the hottest producers of the moment, a project that was sure to generate hype and anticipation, would signal a higher degree of comfort, but sadly this does not seem to be the case. Broken Bells certainly can deliver, as long as you don't expect anything more than you already have on the record. Truly, they have nothing up their sleeves.


Setlist:

The High Road
Vaporize
Your Head Is on Fire
The Ghost Inside
Sailing to Nowhere
Trap Doors
Citizen
October
Mongrel Heart
The Mall & Misery
-------------------------
Don't Let It Bring You Down
Crimson and Clover


For a limited time, I am offering a download of my recording of the Broken Bells' set from the Music Hall of Williamsburg. Considering the album is distributed by a major label, and the band plays through the entire album, I was hesitant to do so; however, in keeping with the spirit of Danger Mouse's Grey Album and Dark Night of the Soul, I have changed my mind. I do encourage anybody who downloads and enjoys this recording to please purchase the album itself, the Amazon page for which is helpfully linked above. Files will be removed upon request. Please also note that this link will only be active for 7 days or 100 downloads, and I will not re-upload the link once it has expired. That said, enjoy!

Thursday, February 11, 2010

I will float until I learn how to swim.

My musical discovery of the day on this slow, sleepy snow day came to me via an unassuming enough tweet from that arbiter of cool music and literature, Largehearted Boy:
Morning music: Madeline Ava's ukulele & vocals cover of the In the Aerpolane Over the Sea album http://bit.ly/cHC4T7

Curiosity piqued, I clicked over. Now, my relationship with cover songs, although much less prickly than that with film remakes, can still be caustic at times. While I usually enjoy a good cover, when it is a song with which I have a strong attachment, I will often be reticent to give the cover a chance or at the very least be ultra critical of it (for this very reason, in my own performances I will usually refrain from covering songs that really have a deep significance to me). In this case, here was a young whom of whom I had never heard taking an entire album that was very near and dear to my heart - an album that I knew inside out and had listened to countless times, an album of which I used to hand out CD-R copies to friends simply because I thought that everybody should have an opportunity to hear it - and reducing it to only ukulele and vocals (with kazoo performances featured on the pair of instrumental tracks). This was an album I had always lauded for its ability to create its own world and completely occupy that world, and this woman was rushing through it in 17 minutes.

What I found is that Madeline Ava's performance was disarmingly natural, self-possesed while charmingly self-conscious, and endearingly adorable. According to her website, she describes her music as "cuddlecore ukulele," which is not only my new favorite genre label but also perfectly describes the music she plays. While she tends to play simple chords in a very twee style and has a cute, idyllic singing voice that is quite antithetical to Jeff Mangum's own, her version holds it own and is worth listening to. Surely, it is a different experience than listening to the original Neutral Milk Hotel album, but it is an experience that I think has a lot to offer to NMH fans. Above all else, this recording feels like a ramshackle but exquisitely felt love letter to an album that means a lot to a lot of people. It is not perfectly executed, but to paraphrase Okkervil River (and to give a nod to the very song from which I named my blog), the flaws make the recording all the more fun.

Madeline Ava's "In the Aeroplane Over the Sea (except not really...)" is available for streaming and free download over at the CLLCT site. If you like what you hear (and really, if you don't, I may have reason to doubt whether you really possess a heart), please consider also downloading her possibly even more endearing album of original songs, "Songs I'm Too Nervous to Sing for My Mom."

And hey, Philadelphia area people, in a rare show of synchronicity, I have found out that Madeline Ava will be playing a show at the DIY south Philly venue Circle of Hope this coming Saturday, February 13, at 6pm. Is anyone down? Let me know!

Sunday, February 7, 2010

You've gotta look it in the eyes and say that I don't believe.

It began innocently and curiously enough last night when I read a twitter post from Sarah Lipstate, the "sound artist" behind the Noveller project (about whom I really ought to write one of these days):

RIP Gowns. Listening to their final track release: http://somedarkholler.files.wordpress.com/2010/02/gowns_stand.mp3

I had heard of Gowns in passing before, but had never explored their music. Curiosity piqued, I clicked through and listened. What happened next is perhaps somewhat predictable. Within the hour, I had a digital copy of their debut (and apparently only) album, Red State.

I should back up here and talk briefly about the band. At its core, Gowns was a three-piece band, a collaboration between singer/guitarist Erika Anderson (formerly of Amps for Christ), singer/programmer/viola player Ezra Buchla (formerly of west coast noise-rock institution the Mae Shi), and drummer Corey Fogel, with additional member occasionally joining for live performances. On the album, this core trio was also assisted by Carla Bozulich, formerly of the Geraldine Fibbers and currently of Evangelista. Obviously, with this pedigree and this lineup of instruments, Gowns were a special and unique creature.

Their reputation lies mostly in their prowess and ferocity as a live act, a spectacle of catharsis that was apparently difficult to match, let alone top. While I unfortunately missed out on that experience, you can hear the intensity that would lend itself to so singular a performance style. From the looks of things, it was that intensity that, unfortunately, led to their premature demise.

Musically, their debut album presents a juxtaposition of American folk music structure with dark electronic atmospherics that at times resemble some of the more experimental moments from Radiohead's Kid A/Amnesiac period, John Cale viola drones, and Xiu Xiu-esque whisper-to-a-scream vocal dynamics that leaves the listener feeling uncomfortable and even a tad voyeuristic. Admittedly, this is not feel-good music by any stretch, but there is an eerie feeling of intimacy embedded with the catharsis that, while not for everyone, is rewarding for listeners that are able to appreciate it.

According to a post on Erika's blog, as of January 3, the band were busy mixing the second album, a time-consuming, work-intensive, tedious, and exacting process that the band went through collectively, without outsourcing:

We typically mix everything ourselves, and that’s like hand stitching. You know how you can listen to Red State over and over again? That took a long time. I want to make things that wear well, and a lot of that is really obsessive, tasteful mixing…

Within 4 weeks, apparently, Gowns were an entity that existed firmly in the past. In its wake, the band left one last missive, a 17-minute behemoth of a track called "Stand and Encounter" that dials down the folk and dials up the post-rock, sounding at times like Mogwai, Sonic Youth, and the Velvet Underground jamming with the Swans. Again, it's not for everyone, but it's free to try, both in a streaming clip and as a free download of its full 17-minute glory. It now stands as the only artifact of a sophomore album what will presumably never be realized, and the finality of Erika's words on the matter are both gratifying and heartbreaking:

We were tapping into some very raw emotions, and I’m ultimately proud of the risks we took. In spite of anything else, I feel like we were honest, and I feel like we were brave.

I’m also proud of the sounds we created, as though the combination of our talents created something that was rare and unique.

-Before this we were just finishing work on a piece for our next record, and I think in many ways it’s one of the best things we’ve done. At 17 minutes long, it’s a good representation of everyone doing the best of what they do best: it’s got Corey’s frenetic yet graceful drum patterns, Ezra’s swelling viola drones, a rhythmic and powerful guitar line, and a vocal and lyrical style that is at once direct and oblique.

-I’m posting it here as a free download, because I know people were anxious to hear something new from us, and I know we had kept them waiting far too long. I’d like to think of this as our final release.

I’m sorry we couldn’t keep it together.

Although it is sad that the band burnt out so quickly, the cliché is true: they also burned brightly. This is intensely moving music for those that can appreciate it, and ultimately if they had not been the kind of band to burn itself out so quickly, the recorded legacy they left behind would not be as special as it is. I feel lucky to have found out about them, however late, and I hope you check them out to. In addition to Red State and this final track, Gowns leaves behind a self-distributed EP, recently reissued on vinyl, and a limited edition live session on LP called Broken Bones. Both are available in limited quantities directly from Erika, and Red State can be purchased in CD or MP3 format from Amazon.com. Erika also has a new, more traditionally folk-inflected project, Some Dark Holler, in the works. You can listen to two songs from the project at her website.

MP3: Gowns - "Stand and Encounter"
Erika Anderson/Gowns website

Sunday, January 31, 2010

A Flaws recording: the Mountain Goats, 2009-11-28

So the very next day after the DC show, I found myself - surprise, surprise - at yet another Mountain Goats show, this time in my usual home base of Philadelphia at the TLA. This time I was fully prepared for awesomeness, and had either brought along or met up with a much larger posse of friends, including a few first-timers, which is always exciting for a tMG show. I'll probably forget some, but Stephen, Joe, Zach, Danielle, Dan, Alycea, Karly, Alex, Colin, RJ, Rob, Erin, and Paul - thank you all for coming out, sharing a good time with me, and making it even better by your very presence. You are all awesome.

As for the show itself - the sound mix and quality left a bit to be desired, as John's vocals were way low in the mix for most of the show. You will notice on the recording that it is rather difficult to distinguish John's vocals in the mix, and the effect was even more pronounced at the venue - the recording actually does a better job of capturing the vocals than my ears had at the time. The beginning of Handball, sadly, is a total washout in the vocals department. By the midpoint of Handball the vocals were turned up, but sadly John struggled for the rest of the show to be heard over both the thundering band behind him and the loyal and enthusiastic audience in front of him.

And speaking of the band - to add to the mixing woes, Peter's bass appears to be turned WAY up at this show. This show really is, I think, the loudest I had ever heard Peter play at a tMG show. Again, this is not a bad thing, and leads to some amazing moments - just listen to See America Right, and check out the awesome, foreboding, frighteningly bowel-shaking growl of Ezekiel 7 and the Permanent Efficacy of Grace (this performance of which is easily the best of the three shows I caught on this tour). It did, however, cause some problems with the recording - because i was recording with built-in mics and no bass filter, the loud rumble not only dominates the sound of the recording but also contributes to a recording that is decidedly less crisp and more muffled than my DC recording. I did what I could with it, but ultimately I didn't want to tinker with it too much, so apologies for the somewhat iffy quality of this one. (Hint: it seems to sound a lot better through headphones.)

Other highlights of the show include a rare performance of Going to Michigan, the violin-and-vocal rendition of Going to Bristol, and the surprise second encore of The Best Ever Death Metal Band in Denton. As before, the show is streaming below and you can download it in multiple formats from the good folks over at archive.org. Enjoy!

Setlist:
Handball
Old College Try
Cotton
Palmcorder Yajna
Romans 10:9
Deuteronomy 2:10
Enoch 18:14
One Fine Day
From TG&Y
Song for Dana Plato
Going to Michigan
Going to Bristol
Hebrews 11:40
Psalms 40:2
Song for Dennis Brown
See America Right
This Year
----------------------------
Ezekiel 7 and the Permanent Efficacy of Grace
No Children
----------------------------
The Best Ever Death Metal Band in Denton


the Mountain Goats - 2009-11-28, Theatre of the Living Arts, Philadelphia, PA







Other Flaws recordings on archive.org:

the Mountain Goats - 2005-05-04, First Unitarian Church, Philadelphia, PA

the Mountain Goats - 2005-05-05, Knitting Factory, New York, NY
the Mountain Goats - 2005-05-07, Northsix, Brooklyn, NY

the Mountain Goats - 2005-07-02, Old American Can Factory, Brooklyn, NY

the Mountain Goats - 2005-07-04, Fulton Mall Parking Garage, Brooklyn, NY

the Mountain Goats - 2009-03-21, Sixth & I Historic Synagogue, Washington, DC

the Mountain Goats - 2009-11-27, 9:30 Club, Washington, DC

the Mountain Goats - 2009-11-28, Theatre of the Living Arts, Philadelphia, PA
Britt Daniel - 2010-01-23, Sound Fix Records, Brooklyn, NY
Britt Daniel - 2010-01-23, Music Hall of Williamsburg, Brooklyn, NY

Thursday, January 28, 2010

A Flaws recording: the Mountain Goats, 2009-11-27

Those who know me even superficially tend to know one thing about me: I am a Mountain Goats fanatic. Having been a fan for over 10 years, and seen them 36 times over those 10 years, I tend to have strong and in-depth opinions concerning this band, and I also tend to share those opinions freely, frequently, and at length. That said, I will try to keep my remarks on this recording as spare as I can and let the recording speak for itself.


I went into this show with mixed feelings - this was possibly the least excited I had ever been for a tMG show. While most of the other 4AD material - much of which is often dismissed on seemingly purist grounds by other longtime fans - had endeared itself to me, their new album, Life of the World to Come, had not taken hold. I tended to like the piano-based tracks, which to me signaled a new direction that had started with the Satanic Messiah EP, but most of the guitar-based tracks (barnburner "Psalms 40:2" notwithstanding) just felt uninspired and, worse, uninspiring to me. As much as I appreciated and admired the overall work of recently-added drummer Jon Wurster, the past couple of tours have made the dusting off of older songs awkward, as Wurster seemed to often get in the way rather than helping to propel these songs. Add in the fact that the previous two shows were canceled due to sickness, and all signs were pointing to this being an underwhelming concert experience.

Of course, at this point I should know better than to believe that JD and company would let me down. John's piano playing, which had seemed so reluctant and unsure at the March 2009 NYC show that marked his first time playing piano on stage at a Mountain Goats gig, had progressed by leaps and bounds, as evidenced by his energetic dash to the bench at the start of 1 Samuel 15:23, rocking out and pointing into the air like he was Elton John or Billy Joel. From that first moment all of my doubts and misgivings were instantly erased, and as you can hear below, the show was fantastic; John was in high spirits and energy; the band, augmented by Perry Wright of the Prayers and Tears of Arthur Digby Sellers and at times by Owen Pallett (who at the time was going by his old stage name, Final Fantasy), was capable of both muscular force and tender nuance. Best of all, the LOTWTC material worked better live. Finally, I had started to grasp some of these songs and see beyond the polished veneer of the studio versions.

Notably, John did come out during Owen's opening set to sing a violin-and-vocal arrangement of the tMG classic, "Alpha Omega." While I did record Owen's set, Owen's recordings are not yet approved for hosting on archive.org. I will be e-mailing Owen's management to request permission to place these recordings on archive.org, at which time I will update this post with that information.

Setlist:

1 Samuel 15:23
Old College Try
Cotton
Psalms 40:2
Love Love Love
Deuteronomy 2:10
Enoch 18:14
Genesis 30:3
Song for Dana Plato
Cobscook Bay

It's All Here in Brownsville
Hebrews 11:14
Isaiah 45:23
Hast Thou Considered the Tetrapod
Song for Dennis Brown
Romans 10:9
This Year
-----------------------------------------
Ezekiel 7 and the Permanent Efficacy of Grace
No Children


You can download my recording of this concert in MP3, Ogg Vorbis, or FLAC formats from archive.org. You can also stream the recording below, but due to anomalies in the way archive.org seems to decode and stream the tracks, i strongly encourage you to download them if you like it, in FLAC if you are able.

Finally, I want to thank DC friends new and old who helped to make the show such an enjoyable experience, including Shannon, Zach, Colin, Neal, Owen, Lexitron, Natalia (although I didn't get to see you this time around, it was fun looking for you!), and anyone else I may be forgetting.

the Mountain Goats - 2009-11-27, 9:30 Club, Washington, DC




Other Flaws recordings on archive.org:
the Mountain Goats - 2005-05-04, First Unitarian Church, Philadelphia, PA
the Mountain Goats - 2005-05-05, Knitting Factory, New York, NY
the Mountain Goats - 2005-05-07, Northsix, Brooklyn, NY
the Mountain Goats - 2005-07-02, Old American Can Factory, Brooklyn, NY
the Mountain Goats - 2005-07-04, Fulton Mall Parking Garage, Brooklyn, NY
the Mountain Goats - 2009-03-21, Sixth & I Historic Synagogue, Washington, DC
the Mountain Goats - 2009-11-27, 9:30 Club, Washington, DC

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

The king's new clothes.

A funny thing happened to James Cameron on the way to his retirement. Somewhere along the way, he got confused and mistook himself for an Important Filmmaker with Something to Say™.

He didn't lose his way on his own, though; no, he was in fact led down the wrong road, given the wrong directions when he clearly should have made that left turn back at Albaquerque. See, Cameron was a perfectly capable director for a certain type of film; The Terminator showed that he had the chops to craft a satisfyingly exhilirating sci-fi action film with an interesting concept and a low-medium-sized budget, Aliens allowed him to stretch out and proved that even when allowed to indulge himself, he still kept the results compelling and strictly in service of the film, The Abyss gave Cameron more license to explore his creativity and ambition, while also providing a retrospectively prescient setting shift to the earth's oceans, and Terminator 2: Judgment Day was Cameron's opportunity to really wow the audience with cutting-edge special effects (which still are impressive even by today's standards, mind you), while also turning his first breakout success into a franchise with a whip-smart concept and tight execution, creating that rare sequel which is at least equal to (and arguably better than) its predecessor. Cameron could have quit in 1992 and secured a legacy that would be remembered and celebrated in filmdom.

After phoning it in with by-the-numbers yet well-executed Arnold Schwarzenegger action vehicle True Lies, however, Cameron decided to indulge one of his pet obsessions: the Titanic. I can skip over this step of the story, because you all know it. Top-grossing film of all time, Oscars, "king of the world," et cetera.

The catch is, though, that while Cameron's "king of the world" proclamation at the Academy Awards ceremony seemed to be too tongue-in-cheek to be sincere, the joke was on us; he was in earnest when he claimed this title. No longer content with being a groundbreaking and innovative filmmaker, Cameron now fancied himself a vanguard of contemporary filmmaking. Soon afterward, rumors began to swirl of a new science fiction project called Avatar. Allegedly, this film was going to completely revolutionize filmmaking and the way we think about film. The common wisdom also dictated that in order for Cameron to be able to fully realize his vision, the audience would need to wait several years before the technology could catch up to his imagination.

In the ensuing years, one could be forgiven for thinking that perhaps Cameron had indeed gone into retirement; for a triumphant Oscar winner, his career was intriguingly low-key for the next 10 years. He created a short-lived television series (albeit one that did have at least one minor cultural impact in that it turned Jessica Alba into a household name), Dark Angel, and directed a handful of mediocre underwater documentary films that later proved to be, presumably, on-the-job training in shooting in the IMAX format. It was not until late 2008 that the hype wheels for Cameron's new feature film project began publicly turning again; early word was that this was a juggernaut that was going to shock and awe everyone who saw it and that would indeed change the face of filmmaking forever. About ten years in the making, Cameron's Avatar was finally going to see the light of day.

This just about brings us up to the present. During the summer of 2009, the first teaser left many, myself included, underwhelmed and fully prepared to call shenanigans on the whole project. The visuals looked overly synthesized and oddly flat and lifeless, and the lack of any revealing of plot or characterization left the film looking like a flimsy, Hudson Hawk-on-steroids-sized flop. A full trailer with some more tantalizing visuals and further revelation of plot and thematic elements made the film look somewhat more appealing, but critics still seemed to harbor a slightly-more-than-healthy level of skepticism and were by and large sharpening their knives in anticipation of December 18.

It's unclear exactly what happened at this point, but the end result is that several critics, many of them with their heads typically at least somewhat reliably on their shoulders, began to praise the film. And not just the super-high-priced visuals and 3d filming, but the film itself. The story. The characters. Two prominent bloggers have suggested it is the frontrunner for the Academy Award for Best Picture (and hey, we all know the Oscars are bullshit, but some of us idealists would like to imagine that they still have at least a shred of credibility). Hell, it even won an award for best picture of 2009 already. It's like everyone gave in, drank the Kool-Aid, and abandoned their skepticism, objectivity and ability to think independently, and bought into Cameron's self-created myth. (Thank [insert deity here] for critics like J Hoberman - an endangered species!)

You can doubtless tell from my tone where I stand on Avatar. I am going to begin, however, by talking about what Cameron does well in the film, how it succeeds. After all, if you don't have anything nice to say you shouldn't say anything at all, right? Plus, we here at Flaws are not in the business of unrestrained hatemongering. (Plus, I figure if I start my appraisal with positive points, I won't be accused of mindlessly buying into some barely-visible backlash). Technically, this film is indeed a marvel. Let's be honest here: if one is going to see Avatar, one should do it right - that is, the way it was intended to be seen: in IMAX 3D. The teaser and trailer only reinforces this; on a computer screen, television screen, or even standard movie screen, the film looks flat and unexciting. Seeing it in IMAX 3D, however, is a completely different kind of experience - Cameron has truly created a completely immersive world in which the viewer can get lost. The strange and beautiful flora and fauna of Pandora enticingly dance toward you and draw you in, the color palette is suitably rich without being overwhelming, and even the sound design and mixing helps to entrench the viewer into the environment. This is not so much a film as a sensory experience. This being the case, there is no doubt in my mind that this film will not play well on DVD or BluRay, and to those who bought a bootleg: congratulations, you've missed the point and completely ruined the experience for yourself.

Unfortunately, however, this is where Avatar's successes end. After spending so much money creating such a beautiful and enchanting world, Cameron either neglected or did not deem it appropriate to populate this world with memorable or believable characters or a compelling or original storyline. Rather than develop actual characters to inhabit his planet (and, seriously, Pandora? I know that James Cameron has never been known for subtlety, but still…), Cameron instead decided to invest even more money into hiring a USC linguistics professor to create the language spoken by the Na'vi. I would not criticize this decision and this added layer of realism that is often neglected or dismissed by most filmmakers if Cameron had seen fit to give his Na'vi lines worth translating into a new language. Instead, we get, as many critics (even those who give the film the highest praise) have pointed out, a Na'vi translation of Dances with Wolves.

Speaking of which, can we talk about the jaw-droppingly astounding yet head-scratchingly perplexing tonal and attitudinal balancing act this film pulls off? It kind of manages to be New Age shlocky, environmentalist, anti-imperialist, militarist, and offensively racist - all at the same time. It's kind of breathtaking, but not in a good way. Ostensibly, the film's message is supposed to be one of environmentalism and respect for native peoples and their beliefs, with an anti-imperialist/invasion bent. In the process of delivering this trendy neo-hippie moral, however, Cameron employs enough explosions, violence and destruction to satisfy a hormonal teenage boy's lust for such things for at least 48 hours. A look at Cameron's output reveals that yes, he does indeed have a hard-on for explosions to rival Michael Bay, but unfortunately that propensity feels at odds with what he seems to be trying to communicate with this film. The fact that the characters are not well developed means that we only root for "the good guys" because they spend the most time on screen and because the score (composed, surprise surprise, by Titanic culprit James Horner) tells us that we are supposed to. Most problematically, however, is the treatment of the Na'vi themselves. The "bad guys" of the U.S. military often refer to them derisively as "savages," and we are meant by association to see them as quite the opposite. However, the portrayal of the Na'vi in this film is tainted at all levels by the myth of the "noble savage" that has often dogged Western perceptions of native peoples, and contributes to an overall holistically racist view of this alien species. White guilt and condescension do not add up to equal egalitarianism, James.

There are other problems I have with the film, including the fact that, in addition to the interplanetary racism, the film portrays seemingly the entire American military force as being composed exclusively of white males (with the somewhat marginal exception of pilot Michelle Rodriguez), as well as the need of most filmmakers in general to anthropomorphize their alien creations to a ridiculous degree. I recognize that this is partially the whole "god creating man in his image" issue, but seriously, with the talent and imagination that Cameron obviously has, not to mention the ludicrous amount of capital he dumped into the making of this film, I somehow expect more. All these complaints, however, can be seen as me overintellectualizing the film.

Let me address, then, the one issue I have with the film that is inescapable and not so prone to overthinking: its length. You must understand, I am often something of a sucker for long movies. Honestly, I am. I love me some epics. And here's the thing - from my point of view, two hours and forty-six minutes is not even particularly long. I am quite used to watching 150-minute films, so really, an extra sixteen minutes should not be a chore or feel indulgent. Remember, I am a fan of both Kubrick and Kurosawa.

Somewhere in the past decade, however, Cameron has forgotten how to effectively pace a film. Between the action and the explosions and the seductive visuals, this film should have flown by, in theory. It should have left me disappointed that it ended, salivating for more and willing to plop down another fifteen dollars to see it again. The last word to describe it should have been dull. Instead, I found that it felt longer than Gone with the Wind.

Let's extrapolate this a bit further. The film felt shorter than the Ultimate Cut of Watchmen, which is in truth about an hour longer. Earlier this year, I went to see the roadshow presentation of Steven Soderbergh's Che. That film, I believe, clocked in at four hours and forty-two minutes, almost a full two hours longer than Avatar. It was methodically, deliberately paced, and it included an intermission.

Avatar felt just as long as Che had felt.

This is ultimately Cameron's failure - he delivered the world that he had promised his audience, but he forgot the two most crucial aspects of a successful narrative film: identifiable characters and a compelling story. While he has changed the face of filmmaking, what he has ultimately given us is a first stepping stone, a building block that may eventually lead to something truly great. As impressed as I am with what he has achieved, I am disappointed in the critical discourse that has found itself entranced hopelessly by Cameron's illusion, and I find it distressing that all of this mostly unchallenged praise is only encouraging him. It is seeming increasingly likely that Avatar will indeed go on to be named Best Picture of the year, and that upsets me more than I care to admit. It's frustrating to feel like you are the only one who can see that the king of the world wears no clothes.