December 10, 2009


Hot on some pip of inspiration, I made some rough notes for an essay (unqualified rant?) for a year end proclamation, placement-in-print still TBD. Fearful that my want of big ideas in music outs me as old, jaded to want things a way I can understand. Blame Fugazi, man--we got to dream the impossible dream , or at least have an example to role/roll by. The Eighties babies of the Pitchforkian-now, political music for them is when Dan Deacon performed with a mash-up movie of rainbows, Rambo clips and the Governators filmic past to express something about Macho American Firepower™ (not to be confused with a comment or protest of either of the current wars, we're talking purely tail-end of the Cold War nostalgia)--the sort of piece that would have knocked 'em dead as a senior thesis in '87. A Chee-tos bag stapled to a Dominos box does not an artistic statement make, even in our most fantastic and believing of nu-Baltimore of moments! Animal Collective singing about parental obligation was as deep as it got this year and now one of them wants us to PayPal him the dough to play in Africa?! DIAL MAKE-A-WISH, DEACON! That's not even a good cause, helping an already-rockstar achieve his special dream. Is "I can't afford to go on my trip to Africa" any different than "I can't afford this special cocaine I'd like more of"?
Not really.
Fated and official: Fandom is an exercise in emptying your pockets in 2009.
I am 33 and vexed. Where's my Ted Leo promo?!

Posted by jessica hopper at December 10, 2009 02:10 PM | TrackBack