Earfucked

DangerDoooooooooom

2005-10-17T23:38:00.000-07:00

DangerDoom - The Mouse and the Mask

This album should be a match made in heaven. Combine the hottest producer in hip-hop (well, besides Kanye) with quite possibly one of the best MCs in the business, and you’ve already got me hooked. Throw in the possibility of Cartoon Network’s Adult Swim series comprising most of the lyrical subject matter, and the geek in me is jumping up and down giddily, clamoring for a listen. DangerDoom, the celestial union between DJ Danger Mouse and MF Doom, had my nerd sense tingling from the moment I heard of the collaboration. Of course, my nerd sense isn’t always a great critic (I love High Fidelity [the movie] much, much more than it probably deserves). Fortunately for all involved, The Mouse and the Mask delivers on its potential, transcending even the most questionable of cartoon interludes. (Brak? Brak?! Don’t get me wrong, I love Brak. Use the guy, but don’t have him tell you you’re stupid for buying this album. That’s just counterproductive.)

I’ll put it bluntly: Danger Mouse is on fire. Just check out his Beatles / Jay-Z mashup The Grey Album (near-legendary in certain circles) for a preview of his amazing skills. He’s already dropped a fantastic album with the Gorillaz earlier this year, and with The Mouse and the Mask he further proves why he’s the best in the damn industry. He explores a pseudo-minimalist style on the record, keeping his sampling subtle but maddeningly addicting. Ranging from Israeli folk to old-school funk, his selections are perfectly chosen. His command of string samples especially is amazing; check out “Crosshairs” or “Sofa King” for catchy violin hooks that won’t leave your mind for days. Never overwhelming yet still jutting out seductively from the background, Danger Mouse’s skill as a producer is strongly reinforced by the record. It’s to his credit that he can keep the antics of the Adult Swim’s populace to a minimum, complementing them with interludes one might expect from Saturday morning cartoons (even though Adult Swim typically appeals to a college-age audience, most of which haven’t seen a Saturday morning in years).

Without an MC as twisted and talented as MF Doom, however, Danger Mouse’s deftness might not be fully appreciated. Doom’s swanky, slinky style is as sharp as ever, sliding seamlessly from sentence to sentence. While this album may not be the pinnacle of his career (that honor belonging to Madvillainy, his collaboration with Madlib), his humorous descriptions of the Adult Swim realm remain a powerful testament to his skill as a rapper. While some of his lines are questionable in taste, such as, “It stank like a septic tank full of big poo,” the juvenile humor essentially comes with the territory. There is an entire song devoted to “golden showers,” which I am not going to explain (you know what it means). It’s a small price to pay, especially for an album populated with such a vast crew. Guest spots are chosen with the utmost of care and consideration, with blistering verses dropped by the likes of Cee-Lo, Talib Kweli, and Ghostface, all of whom provide a distinct, rapid contrast to Doom’s relaxed vocal style.

I would be remiss to not mention some of the more colorful inhabitants of The Mouse and the Mask, since the cartoons themselves provide much more than just subject matter. All the classic Adult Swim characters make appearances, from the Aqua Teen Hunger Force to Zorak. Most of the appearances were recorded specifically for the album, and while they do tend to jump around from track to track, the sheer quantity included approaches a near-elegant continuity (Plus, Gary Cole makes an appearance. Gary Cole. Lumberg!) A few of the interludes are more than just kitschy. I will never get tired of listening to Meatwod rapping.

Sadly, most people will relegate The Mouse and the Mask to sort of corner comic-rack status, left there to sit for the nerdiest of fans. It’d be a shame to let the admittedly wacky thematic focus to color one’s perception of this album, but to a certain extent Adult Swim does drag down the record. Taken out of its context, it might have been even better (what it might have been about in this case, however, I have no idea). Still, there’s no reason to pan this blissful coalition between two of the most talented, imaginative pioneers in hip-hop. Give it up for Danger, for Doom, and, yes, even the Aqua Teen Hunger Force.

(No, I won't hide behind a arbitrary score. Draw your own numerical conclusions.)

Further obsession with Annie

2005-10-17T21:15:00.000-07:00

So, I got this record sent to me at my station (Rainy Dawg Radio [represent, bitches]). It is, to say the least, phenomenal. Makes me proud to be the electronic music director, as it has so far only been sent to that specialty block. Not only does it include original tracks by my favorite Norwegian (other that myself), it also includes an impressive array of selected songs, buoyed by excellent mixing by none other than dear Ms. Berge-Strand. The transition from Toy's "Rabbit Pushing Mover" to La Bionda's "I Wanna Be Your Lover" is particularly gorgeous, punctuated by Annie phoning in an incredibly cute, "Hello! Oh hi, it's Annie! This is my DJ Kicks!" (swoon). I don't really know yet whether or not I should be ashamed that I love this so much (especially with the inclusion of Bow Wow Wow's "I Want Candy"); the hipster / populist debate is raging on in my mind. And the populist is winning, because this record is fucking great.

Although not as racy or edgy as Royksopp's offering last year (no rallying cries of "Don't get too drunk to fuck!" here), it's still a solid mix of catchy pop. The only problem I've had with it so far is editing Le Tigre, as every time I tried to reverse the "shit" in the song it sounded awful. I finally managed to get it right, but I'm still a bit disappointed that I had to alter the record. (As a side note, this might be the first incidence where I've actually enjoyedLe Tigre. I blame Junior Senior, as their mix of "Nanny Boo Boo" is fucking golden.) Liquid Liquid's "Flextone" is great, really capitalizing on the success of DFA-ers John Maclean and James Murphy (by that, I mean there's a hell of a lot of cowbell).

I really like Alan Braxe's remix of Death From Above 1979's "Black History Month" (a song which really never had much to do with anything, not fitting in with the subject matter You're a Woman, I'm a Machine at all). Before the remix, the song was about as danceable as anything on DFA1979's record (i.e. not very), but now it fucking slithers, undulating seductively on the dance floor. You can actually hear Sebastian for once, and although the lyrics still make no fucking sense whatsoever, it sounds great. I've always had a lot of respect for Braxe (ssshhh, secret, I can't go around professing undying love for French house producers without losing my indie credibility), and now I like him even more. It's a solid mix, probably one of the best offerings on the album. Bumblebee Unlimited's "Ladybug (I Just Wanna Be Your)" is a portrait of convoluted insect sex, managing to simultaneously make you laugh/dance your ass off. (one line: "Let's smoke some flowers, baby!")

Of further importance are Annie's personal contributions on the mix, the first that I will discuss being "Gimme Your Money." It's a bit of a departure from usual Annie fare, dealing more in dense feedback and Madonna-style vocals/subject matter. "Money's what I want, money's what I need," she half-sings. More than any other Annie song I've heard before, this one drips with sex, sex, sex. Annie's usually been fairly innocent before, and the lyrics still remain clean, but her delivery speaks volumes. "Wedding" is even sultrier, despite the marital overtones. "I know I turn you on," she whispers, and it's a turn-on beyond compare. Leave it to Annie to make marriage an attractive prospect to all those commitment-phobic indie boys. Mmm, god, I love it.

Mu's "Paris Hilton" is a nice addition, even though it's technically only twenty-one seconds long (it actually extends about three minutes into the next track). I always like to see Mu (pictured to the right) getting the credit she deserves for making the most fucking insane crazy-ass spastic dance music ever. By the end of the track, she's just yelling shit like "Animal!" and "Silver spoon!" We're taking asylum-quality insanity here. Do yourself a favor and pick up Out of Breach, if you like... music made by crazy Japanese ladies who belong in straitjackets.

But I digress. Annie's DJ Kicks is a great contribution to the series, and although Royksopp may always end up with the quintessential example, Annie's no slouch. Dammit, Annie, I will give you my money. (And, if you ask me to marry you, there's really no way in hell I'm going to say no. So, um, do it. Please?)

Sexism and rock, two great tastes together at last

2005-10-16T12:32:00.000-07:00

Let's be honest about something, shall we? Music, with all its supposed notions of egalitarianism and universalism, tends to divide itself along gender lines. There is guy music, and there is girl music. There are crossovers, musically androgynous artists and fans who can fluidly cross these lines. But many cannot. I wish I knew more girls who listened to sludge metal, but I don't. You're not going to find too many men with Shakira posters (admittedly, I have one) hanging prominently in their rooms. Men trying to break into the riot grrl movement are not only rare, but I doubt that they would be accepted with gusto. The world of music obsession is even more rigidly departmentalized: most hardcore music geeks tend to be young, single men. Now I am not saying that women can't fulfill this stereotype (ladies, if you do, let me know, as we should get together as soon as possible to discuss the ramifications of this sociological experiment, preferably over dinner/coffee/breakfast [wishful thinking]), but merely that males tend to make up the most of the record collectors, vinyl enthusiasts, and audiophiles. Therefore, when an attractive female artist muscles her way into the realm of musical movers and shakers, my first manly step is not to gauge her music, or her talent, or any of these things, but to immediately and almost without fail ask, "Is she hot?"

Yesterday, I had a discussion with a few friends of mine about a "Girls of Indie Rock" pin-up calendar. The competition was furious, although we eventually narrowed it down to about fifteen or so. Of course, given that we can only have twelve slots open (although Phil did suggest the addition of an extra month, Indietember, to allow for one more), this means that a few unlucky ladies might have to be cut from the roster. In the interest of defending the honor of my chosen starlets, I present you with The Girls of Indie Rock According to Jeff.

1. Neko Case

As far as I am concerned, there is no greater sex symbol in all of the world of music than Neko Case's vocal chords. Listening to "Karoline" on her debut album, The Virginian, there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that this woman's voice is the sexist voice on the entire planet. Capable of switching vocal styles from the yowl of "a lusty old cougar" (her words) to an innocent-yet-riddled-with-sultriness siren song within the same note, Case's sheer power is undeniable. Her voice is raw as all hell, in the best way possible. And yet, even when her voice isn't packed with that fury of unbridled youth, she's still goddamn sexy. Though her talents were wasted on the latest New Pornographers album, the maturity and solidity of her pipes just keeps growing. She's gone from being a upstart in a punk band to one of the most respected female voices in not merely independent scenes, but in the alt country circles that she's been skirting for years. Case is a songstress in the old American way, making her way through heartbreak and loss with dignity and flair, much like Loretta Lynn or Patsy Cline before her. An anthropomorphization of Nancy Sinatra's "These Boots Are Made For Walkin'," Case nonetheless overshadows Sinatra in nearly every arena.

Neko Case is also smokingly gorgeous. Red hair does it for me almost every single time, and her crimson tresses are a perfect match for her projected stage personality. Her eyes speak, and to me they say nothing but pure, unadulterated desire.

On a less relevant note, Case grew up in Tacoma. So did I. This should have no real significance (Tacoma is a large city) but I can't help but feel if I ever meet her this will somehow give me the edge needed to really impress her, leading to a torrid, passionate love affair.

2. Annie Berge-Strand

Probably better known as just Annie, this Norwegian pop goddess took the indie world by storm in early 2005. She broke Pitchfork's façade of detached cynicism, leading even the snarkiest of snarky motherfuckers to gush like fifteen year-old girls. The best description I ever heard of her was "the Kylie Minogue it's cool to like," and it's probably true. Her music is shamelessly saccharine pop, and I love every damn minute of it. The bouncy synths, the unabashed lyrical concentration on love, dancing, and implicit sexuality. From the elaborate men-as-candy metaphor of "Chewing Gum" to the carpe diem smolder of "Heartbeat," Annie has got sex appeal in spades. She has the slight accent that is no doubt one of the foundations of every man's Scandinavian beauty fantasty, a singing voice to maintain that illusion, and a face that would stop traffic. While Neko Case may have more of a bad girl appeal, Annie is quite frankly as cute as cute gets. Look at that smile, those adorable dimples. Not usually one to go in for the blond-and-blue-eyed Aryan ideal, I am nonetheless completley smitten. Most importantly, Annie is all about having fun and showing everybody that "if ever there's a girl who could rock your world, then that girl sure is me." Annie, you can rock my world anytime. To say that you already do wouldn't be far off the mark, but if I don't want to set my sights too high already and have nowhere to go emotionally once Ms. Berge-Strand waltzes in and sweeps me off of my feet, flying me back to the cold fjords of Norway where the only thing keeping us warm will be each other.

3. Leslie Feist

Oh dear god, how I love the Arts&Crafts label. They are consistently putting out the cream of the indie crop, and the collective behind the releases, the strange incestuous Toronto group comprising Broken Social Scene, is an intriguing entity. Most intriguing however, is Leslie Feist. Known primarily before her debut album as the touring Emily Haines (singing her parts on songs such as "Anthems For A Seventeen Year-Old Girl"), Feist nonetheless showed promise on tracks like "Almost Crimes." However, to relegate her to Haines-substitute status would be a goddamn criminal act. On Let It Die, Feist deftly showed just exactly why she deserved her own solo career. Her album expertly interweaves elements of jazz, lounge, and folk, all buoyed by her amazing voice. Equal parts sweet and sinful, Feist croons her way into my heart with more ease than any other woman on this list. Case may be sultry and Annie sweet, but Feist is both, and in a combination that makes me keep coming back for more and more. Dear Leslie also has that fantastic combination of unconventional beauty (she's bony and lanky, but in a way that makes bony and lanky sound like they should be compliments) and whipsmart intelligence that magnetizes me beyond any hope or rescue. Feist, I may not be willing to move to Mushaboom, Nova Scotia to live in a country house with you, but after two or three more times listening to Let It Die, I just might have to change my mind.

Honorable Mentions:
Jenny Lewis of Rilo Kiley
Maya Arulpragasam of M.I.A.
Kim Gordon of Sonic Youth

There we are, my friends. The inner-most workings of my combined sexual desire and music geekery, all gussied up with golden ribbons and shit. One of these days, when I'm sipping martinis poolside with a bevvy of beauties, I will look back upon this list with fond nostalgia. Oh, Neko, Annie and Leslie. You should have been mine.

Earfucked

2005-10-10T23:57:00.000-07:00

Earfuck
v.

1. To make an audience captive through sheer musical power; "The band gently earfucked the crowd for their entire show."
2. To be addicted to musically; "This new record is totally earfucking me right now."

n.

1. An intense musical experience; "That song is such an earfuck."

Earfucked
n.

1. A blog about music by a severely addicted music geek.