A small (belated) question to Mister Dylan

Bob Dylan (1987 in Rolling Stone): "I hate to see chicks perform. Hate it... Because they whore themselves. Especially the ones that don't wear anything. They fucking whore themselves."

Then what exactly are men doing when performing?

With statements like this it's not really a surprise that women in music still aren't always fully taken for real. It's a little insane, to put that mildly.

Interesting quote by Carrie Brownstein

"Janet hates slow songs. She hates listening to them and hates playing them, so if Mary or I bring in something too slow or sensitive, Janet will just bang the shit out of the drums until our sensitivity is obliterated."
—
Carrie Brownstein on Janet Weiss

Knowing this, bring on that Jicks album!

After Friday comes Saturday

I've been one of these people who went 'Who is this Rebecca Black and why is she trending' for an entire week. I read some apparently lyrics from her song (she's a singer, I got that much), they were said to be ridiculous. Friends I followed questioned whether the release of this track was something serious. I caved. Went on to youtube on a Saturday, checked out her track 'Friday'. This pun is so bad I apologise for it.

I expected the absolute worst. What I got was a simple popsong-by-numbers. Very American High-school, very bubblegum, very teenager and it even had a gansta-dude rapping the bridge. Yes, her voice is auto-tuned. Yes, her lyrics are kind of dumb (but very simple, she tells her day routine). Yes, she looks made. I don't like the song. But then, I don't like bubble gum pop music. I don't like Justin Bieber either. I think the entire circus about him is ridiculous. Why market that kid so much? Yet, it's impressive. And in a good few decades we have a new case of Charlie Sheen but that's another story.

Back to Rebecca Black. Why attack her? This is kiddie music. Hate it all you like but face the truth. There's a market for that and if you're not the market, don't bother. For the specific genre and target group this song is made for, there's nothing wrong with either her or the song 'Friday'. I think the song is rubbish, I wish I hadn't given in to what the bonkers people were talking about, but in end effect, is it really worth talking about? There are so many artists and songs like that, again, I don't want to be bothered with it, but it's there. Let it be.

So, you have a twitter account.

There's a time and a place for everything. Often this place is not Twitter.

Twitter is a place where you can post little blurbs of what you are doing, where you are, where you're going. A place to say something about things and to people if you must. You can chit chat on twitter.

Keep in mind that whatever you write on twitter will possibly be read by your following. That following could form an opinion not just about that particular tweet but also about you. It's fine that you don't care about that. But take the concequences.

To keep it short and simple: Enjoy tweeting, but tweet responsible.

People, get a (vintage) grip!

"Oh my god, will you look at that? He had tapes, I mean, TAPES, when he was a little kid." I know it's cool to be a vintage whore (is it? I'm not really up to date to things cool, and hip for that matter) and to listen to TAPES is oh so marvelously vintage and damn, don't we all love a good old mixtape.

I love tapes too, I do. I got a few left from when I was a kid/teenager and bought some on a record fair a few years back. All in the name of nostalgia. I would love nothing more than make genuine mixtapes and send them out to people. Problem is, who still has a cassette deck?

My sole and only point writing this is: look, if a thirty-something tells you they found their old collection and you scream out "OH MY GOD, TAPES!", it just makes me think 'how much of a retard are you?'. It's all vintage and cool now, but back in the days, it was all we had because LPs were expensive to buy with our pocket money. Every person over thirty owned tapes. We're sorry for being cool by the faith of time.

So, you think rock is dead.

Oh no! Rock is dead! Rock doesn't chart anymore! Rock does not sell anymore! Panic is spreading over the internet faster than the Mexican Flu. At first I read with a slight feeling that vaguely resembles interest but over the past days this has changed into, if I take the time to read the panic bulletins, something that resembles annoyance. So, rock is dead you say? I'm not even going to investigate whether this is true or not. Does it even matter whether rock is dead or not? Does it really?

Rock is predicted dead since the 1950's. Music doesn't need to chart to be alive. Does Jazz chart (Jamie Cullum and Katie Melua do not count)? North Sea Jazz pulls thousands and thousands of people to an arena every year. So, is it dead? Of course not. The fast-media-generation who is the most interesting for commercial purposes might not care, but there's a lot of (different) people outside that group.

As long as there is one band who makes music I thoughoutly and shamelessly enjoy, as long as I can listen to that band, to their music, enjoy their sounds, it's not dead. It's very much alive, maybe just for that band and me, but it's alive. The band is alive. I am alive. Rock is alive. So think again when you read ROCK IS DEAD over a lengthly article. If you still like it and enjoy it, it's not dead.

A vintage feeling

Thanks to the internet we often have already heard the albums we've bought. It's not a bad thing, you at least know that what you bought is good, but the magic of cycling home with an LP, hoping that it will stay unscratched until you're home is a little lost. Also, the CD has taken care of that issue already.

The unthinkable happened yesterday. I found two LPs, that's these big, heavy, black round vinyl things with grooves in them, of Quasi. The turn up of about 50 people last May when they played in Amsterdam massively surprised me, who in the Netherlands does know about the band Quasi? I'm one of those 50 and how do I know them you may ask? The internet of course so I'm not dissing the internet by one bit. Only the nostalgia is a bit lost. But there, two albums! As if a light shown down from the heavens on these albums and angels were singing hallelujah. I do not have a poker face so the salesperson behind the counter knew very well he made one person very happy that day.

There was something extra special about these albums, dating from 1999 and 2001. One was completely unknown to me. I knew they released that album but I had never heard it. So today, it was like 1987 again. I took the vinyl out of the sleeve, placed it carefully on the record player and softly put the needle into the grooves. And while cutting my photos into a nice square (talking about vintage activities) I heard 'The sword of god' for the very first time. On an actual music carrier. Just like the music gods have always meant it to be.

The Music I hate.

Listen, if you ever going to make a song that's about how much you love music, how much it means to you and how it is everything, which it is, you better do me and the rest of the population agreeing with this statement a favour - MAKE SURE IT ISN'T AS AWFULLY DREADFUL AND HORRIBLE AS 'MUSIC' BY JOHN MILES.

That's all I can say about this. 'Music' is the most painful song about something beautiful. Massive fail. Dear musicians, you can do better, do it!

The world's easiest tax-raise defence. We got 'em!

I've been relatively on the politic front. I spit out an occasional frustrating discontent but that's it, at least as far as I know. Dutch Politics is making me ill and I can't allow a bunch of idiots who somehow have to run the country ruin my health. What I have followed though is the tax raise on theatre and concert tickets, going up from 6 to 19%. That's quite a lot. This happens mid-season. No one had really the time to prepare themselves for it. The consumer will have to pay more which the theatres won't see. If a consumer has to pay more they might not spend their money on tickets. Well, it's a long list of arguments why this tax raise is the stupidest things since electing Bush jr. and I won't bore you with that. The reason why I'm writing about this in another anyway.

This raise is one of the most talked about issues in The Hague at the moment and today the government confirmed once more that they won't turn this back, the tax raise on tickets is definite. They're still confident it will make them 90 mln euros. Which is probably the calculation with current sales. But even that isn't what stirred me this time. No. Not even the fact that it's mainly the PVV of Geert Wilders who keeps hammering at this tax raise isn't it. Oh no. It's that one small little thing our minister of Finance has said to justify their moves.

"These plans were part of our election campaign all along."

The theatre and concert goers are for the larger part NOT THE ONES WHO HAVE VOTED FOR YOU! That's by far the easiest defence of 2010. Congratulations.

Here's the best edit of 2010: the tax raise on concert, festival and theatre tickets will be postponed until July 2011. Alright!

Tour of Duty or For what it's worth (a flashback)

As a young teenager I enjoyed watching the US war TV series 'Tour of Duty'. It was the close friendship the Vietnam soldiers maintained that made the show what it was. Every week I sat in front of the television to watch the 'adventures' (it's a little wrong to call it adventures, this is war and not quite Indiana Jones) of Zeke Anderson, Danny Percell, Marcus Taylor, Ruiz, Duncan and, of course, Myron Goldman. The show didn't focus on the actual war cruelties on fight, but more on other issues such as racism, suicide, fragging, terrorism, civilian deaths and drug abuse. It made the series human.

What also heaviy featured was the music of the era. Sixties music. The theme song was 'Paint it black' by the Rolling Stones. This song will forever be connected with how the helicopters landed on the field and the actors jumping out with their shot guns and Zeke looking back over his shoulder, pausing and showing the name of the actor (Terence Knox, in case you're interested). A few years later I was at a Rolling Stones show and waited patiently until they played this song and went nuts for the few minutes it took. The show was a huge success in the Netherlands and was shown on Veronica, then still part of the Public Network. They knew how successful it was, not just the show but also the music and always being a music pioneer (Veronica originally started as a pirate radio network, making radio from a ship at sea, just outside Dutch waters), they released a few compilations, releasing the music from the TV series, a mighty fine collection of the most delicious sixties tracks. Even as a young teenager I wasn't too keen on 'modern music', so that cassette bought from my own money was played constantly. As always, the first part was better than the follow ups. And on that tape was Buffalo Springfield with 'For what it's worth'. I instantly fell in love with that song and I'm both surprised and worried about how valid the words still are today.

I had to think about that just now, as it played on the radio. I had to think of the TV series. I decided to share this song here. Very fitting to my sixties mood I'm in at the moment. Enjoy this (sadly) timeless classic.

All the best albums lists in the world don't come close to this

As always in December, the Best Of This Year lists come out. I never agree with these lists but I always read them just to see what's supposed to be good or hip or whatever the standards are and if someone, if just one person, lists one of the albums I enjoyed so much this year.

Each and every list I read so far lacked my personal favourite and best album of 2010, Quasi's amazing 'American Gong'. Even the 'Overlooked' list.

Do I really have an exclusive taste? Or do people think my taste is shit? Where are The Corin Tucker Band? The Vaselines (yeah come on, they are quite known aren't they?)? The Thermals (big in the Netherlands? If you say so Thermals...)? Kate Nash? I'm not completely off this world when it comes to music or am I? Let me put one thing straight right here right now, I don't aim to be. It's completely irritating to go to a record store and not finding the records you like because they are too 'alternative'.

You can't help liking what you like can you? So whether my taste is exclusive, shit, difficult, edgy or whatever you want to call it, it's my taste. And my taste is good enough for me. And Quasi released the best album of 2010, that's one thing I will not argue about, it's simply the way it is.

Whistling through winter cold wonderland

Let's get one thing straight. It's cold outside. It's cold in my bedroom. It took me a lot of courage this morning to get out of bed, it wasn't all that pleasant. It then takes me a while to get dressed, with all the layers and then, after I had my morning coffee, it takes a while to put on my legwarmers, scarf, mittens (I'm currently considering putting gloves underneat) and my hat. And the Doc Martens of course. I'm wearing an incredibly warm workers safety jacket in bright orange with reflecting stripes. By that time I look like an orange Michelin woman. It's -6 degrees. Bring it on! One step outside and the wind blows straight through all layers of clothing. I knew -6 was supposed to feel like -15 today. Scratch that. It doesn't matter how cold it feels like. Freaking cold = freaking cold.

It's a challenge to battle the wind, not because it's freaking cold but the wind is heavy, very heavy. And because of the cold the acceleration on my bicycle doesn't work. I like to cycle heavy. So now, this is quite a struggle but you know, once you got some speed it's actually not so bad. Not bad at all. Sure it's cold but you keep warm regardless. Unless the wind blows straight through everything, you shiver and you keep going. And, there's my walkman and as we all know, music keeps you warm.

In summer I'm known to drive straight into a ditch being in total awe about the music on my walkman, apparently in winter I'm rocking out on my bicycle, whistling (I can't whistle so it's rather a bad idea) and singing along, bopping my head along. Where one should think it's best to pay attention to the road to avoid the slippery parts, I rather move like a groundkeeper in a video of Nirvana. Whether it's In Bloom, the teenage sound of the Rondelles, the Cribs' rage against society or the sweet garage rock of the Bangles (they used to have a life before the artist then primarely known as Prince wrote them a little tune about Mondays you know), I really get into the music and rock my way home. Weird. Shouldn't I not shiver my way home? Or is this a natural reaction to keep warm?

Either way, despite me fully appreciating the music on my walkman (mittens = not being able to use the skip button, you gotta deal with whatever song comes on), you may still feel sorry for me getting on my bicycle and driving through -6 but feels like -15. It's still cold.

The Queen of Effing Everything and her new Throne

I have a new office chair. We used to have a boss who sat in the room next door, he had this boss-chair, but doesn't work here since about two years and no one ever sits there any longer so, long story short, after asking me four times and me answering with 'are you mad?' for four times if I wanted that chair, my colleague rolled in this boss-chair which flops back if you want to. It's of course a shame to leave this chair un-seated but most of all I got it because I'm the Queen of Fucking Everything. Coffee mugs don't lie. That's how my crap office chair was replaced by this quite fancy one. I moaned, of course, it was too low (you can't set it higher) but the truth is, it's comfy. And uhm, maybe a little too comfy.

I have suddenly gained full understanding why bosses and managers aren't doing so much. It's not their fault. It's the chair! The chair is built to flop back, feet on the table and 'think'. It's built to sink back and 'think' about what strategy is best used in the current situation. The chair is built to... lie back and close your eyes and to feel yourself softly slide away into a nice nap.

Lock the back of the chair! Eyes wide open and go! I'm not a manager! I'm not a boss. I'm the Queen Of Fucking Everything. And need to do a little. Coffee and other drinks however are still being brought, as always.

Not so cool

I'm not sure what's worse: someone who openly tweets about his alcohol habits (it's not cool, it's really not cool) or the people who think they reply in a witty way thinking this is really cool (both the reply and the habit).

Things the world can live without, really!

This morning while cycling to work I was, of course, listening to my walkman. It happens more often but I was quite pleased with the tunes that came through the shuffle. Most of it this morning was 90s rock and as I was racing into the forest (really) I caught myself thinking how awesome the 90s rock scene was. Only to quickly note to self that this excludes Britpop. Britpop =/= rock. Britpop =/= awesome. And that's the end of that. I never liked Britpop when it hit MTV and I still don't like it.

The God of Britpop must have heard me and had arranged that today the news emerges that Pulp reformed. Just like Blur and Suede had done before. Does the world need this? The Twitter Trending Machine indicates it does. Good grief, I mean am I the only one who thinks it's a little bit ridiculous? I'm all for being a bit retro (I am in fact wearing my army trousers which hail truthfully directly from the Great Grunge Era. This could also tell you that things really used to be better back in the day - it still fits and is in one piece) but a shit band will still be a shit band even when the band reforms years later and gets everyone nostalgic.

Indeed, it's Monday.

Feminist postcards for auction!

Just read Kate Nash' tweet about how she made a feminist postcard for an auction, which got a deserving article in the Guardian. I think it's clever. I just hope people get it...