Revival Revival vs Primus

mp3 download, ipod format download

Vocals by Barbara Singer. Samples and programming by me. The guitar licks were originally played by Alex Torovic but have been chopped up pretty dramatically. This is part of our ongoing strategy, learned from hip-hop, of taking a familiar chorus and coming up with new verses.

“Tommy The Cat” is far and away my favorite Primus song. Les Claypool does the spoken intro and the choruses, but Tommy The Cat himself is voiced by Tom Waits. The song has a cool video, which I had never seen before the very moment of embedding it in this post, because it’s not like it got a lot of MTV spins back in the nineties. What did we do before Youtube?

I’m a funk, blues and jazz guy more than a metal guy. Among the metal virtuosos, Les Claypool is the funkiest. He says that when he auditioned to replace Cliff Burton in Metallica, he suggested they all jam on some Isley Brothers tunes. I’m sure that went over huge. Metallica wisely advised Les to go start his own band.

As with everybody we sample and remix, we hope Primus is cool with it, it’s purely a gesture of love. I imagine that they’d be okay, since they themselves have been known to do some sampling. “Jerry Was A Race Car Driver” uses a line from The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2 (“Heh heh heh, dog will hunt!”)

My first reaction to Primus as a high schooler was mostly alarm. Growing up in New York City, you don’t get exposed to a lot of metal. If you’re a brooding white city kid looking to annoy your parents, you’re likelier to turn to hip-hop or punk (or both, this is why my high school classmates loved the Beastie Boys so much.) For most of my adolescence, I didn’t even realize that punk and metal are two different things. So I didn’t have a lot of context for Primus. I liked the spazzy energy but couldn’t handle the tightly coiled anger that seemed to underlie it. Was I ever so innocent? Having heard a lot of genuinely angry rock music since then, Primus sounds pretty harmless, and the comedy aspect comes across as more dominant. But of course, the best comedy comes from anger. It’s fitting that Primus did the theme song to South Park, they inhabit a similar emotional space.

Primus’ material isn’t exactly my cup of tea but I stand in awe of their musicianship. Most guys at their level of skill have no sense of humor whatsoever. I’d like to know how Les managed not to lose his sense of playfulness even after the tens of thousands of hours of disciplined practice it must have taken him to get that good at bass. I especially love hearing him play fretless, he gets so much microtonal excitement out of it. Ditto with Larry LaLonde – I can’t think of a more harmonically adventurous guitarist. Here’s to spazzy virtuosity.

What’s interesting to me is how the movie is simultaneously so fresh and so derivative. Avatar’s freshness is in its breathtaking visuals, all the technogeekery of its making. It’s derivative in its plot, setting, characters, and all other non-technical content. It’s practically a mashup in movie form. In the spirit of my blog post parsing out all the sources of Halo, I figured I’d do the same for this movie. Here are some of the most obvious sources, similarities and resonances (There are some spoilers within, but the plot of this movie is totally predictable and the least interesting thing about it, so feel free to read if you’re planning to go see it.)

Dances With Wolves

The plots are extremely similar. Both are racially problematic, as thoughtfully outlined by io9.

Pocahantas

Not the historical Pocahantas, the Disney version. From Ponyponyshow’s Tumblr, click for full-sized.

Both Dances With Wolves and Avatar descend from the Pocahantas myth. I haven’t seen the Disney version, but Terrence Malick did a lovely job of it in The New World. That movie, Dances With Wolves and Avatar all share a cast member, Wes Studi.

Roger Dean’s paintings

Like the album covers he did for Yes.

Avatar is especially influenced by Roger Dean’s thing for floating islands.

The ever-helpful io9 has many more examples.

The Matrix

The whole virtual body thing naturally didn’t start with the Matrix, but that’s what I kept thinking of. The “avatar” disambiguation page on wikipedia lists a zillion things with that name, the two most culturally significant being the original word from Hinduism and the ubiquitous computing concept. Unlike in the Matrix, in Avatar, the virtual bodies are real. Except that they really aren’t, they only exist as ones and zeros. Layers within layers! Who says Hollywood action movies are dumb?

The Abyss

James Cameron has a fetishistic thing with asphyxiation, relating to his love of near-death diving experiences – see the New Yorker profile for some gruesome details.

Aliens

Sigourney Weaver! Robotic exoskeletons!

Sexy blue women

See this article on io9 about the phenomenon.

Unobtainium

Praise be to wikipedia. How else would I know that “unobtainium” is a fifty-year-old word?

Every Vietnam movie

All that helicopter-based combat in a jungle setting. A rich high-tech civilization being defeated by a less rich, lower-tech one with home field advantage.

Entire planet as organism

Pandora’s planetwide nervous system descends from the Gaia hypothesis. There’s an Asimov novel called Nemesis where a planet’s bacterial life all turn out to be a single networked superorganism that communicates telepathically with human visitors. The best “planet as organism” is the South Park episode “Lice Capades” where the sentient world is Clyde’s scalp.

The Dragonriders of Pern

Outing myself as a real dork here, but so Anne McCaffrey wrote a whole series of books about riding giant flying reptiles. As I recall, the riders communicated telepathically with them.

Fern Gully

Haven’t seen it myself, but one of my Twitter buddies pointed it out. Tone Loc is in it!

My point here is not that James Cameron is a bad artist for being so derivative. His work has its problems, what with the racial stereotyping and clunky dialog and broadness of stroke. But he’s still a good artist. His referencing, borrowing and outright quotation makes his work stronger. Any quotes or sources I missed? As usual, kindly hit the comments.

The title of this post comes from Cartman’s reaction when Stan’s dad pulls out his real guitar and plays “Carry On My Wayward Son.”

I’m a big fan of Rock Band and Guitar Hero. I play the actual guitar, and have done it in several real bands. The video game experience isn’t exactly the same as playing real guitar, but it conveys a lot of the flavor. Music games are first and foremost about close listening, and so is playing music on instruments. The stuff you’re doing from the wrists down is automatic. Learning how to listen to other people while you play is the hardest and most important part of mastery of any instrument. Even if you’re performing solo, you need to learn to listen to yourself.

If you really want to listen intently, it helps to be on your feet dancing. If you can’t dance on your feet, you can still do it in your imagination. Guitar Hero and Rock Band aren’t as dance-oriented as some of the other music games, but getting your boogie on is still their basic point. Most of the fun of music is what’s happening in the room around it. Chords and scales are interesting, deeply interesting if you like math, but they’re just a means to an end, helping people have a good time.

I haven’t played it yet, but I imagine that Beatles Rock Band is like being in a very tight Beatles tribute band.

I’ve never been in a Beatles tribute band, but I try to get every band I play in to do some Beatles song. Playing their music is like a well thought-out series of challenging puzzles. The songs have beautiful internal logic, and they feel good under the fingers and in the voice. They’re more technically demanding than most rock songs, but they’re still accessible if you’re willing to put in the practice time. They promote flow.

The New York Times Magazine has a long article about Beatles Rock Band by Daniel Radosh called “While My Guitar Gently Beeps.” The designers of Beatles Rock Band are very concerned about the authenticity of the experience:

Between songs, players will hear the group warming up and bantering in the studio. Martin combed through hundreds of hours of tape to find these clips, but the chatter, recorded directly into microphones, lacked the subtle echo and ambient noise you would have heard if you were actually in the studio at the time. So after laying down a sound bed of background noise, Martin played the original clips through a set of speakers on the studio floor and rerecorded them through his mikes, this time with all the ringing acoustics of the room. Through the control-room window, Martin stared into the empty studio as if his mind’s eye could put physical form to the disembodied sounds. Across the decades a guitar was tuned, a snare drum rattled and John Lennon warmed up his voice for a new song called “Come Together:” He got teenage lyrics, he got hot rod baldy.

The concern is admirable, but also kind of goofy. How authentic can it be? It’s a video game. The whole point of a simulation is that it’s fake. And the game designers know that all the authenticity lies within certain prescribed limits. You don’t enter into virtual bickering during the recording of the last few albums. You don’t get to play drums as Paul on the songs from the White Album recorded while Ringo had temporarily quit the band.

Authentic or not, the game is doing the music world a big service. Beatles music rewards all of the attention you give it many times over. I’m glad that so-called non-musicians have an incentive to geek out over it. Daniel Radosh is right:

Playing music games requires an intense focus on the separate elements of a song, which leads to a greater intuitive knowledge of musical composition. When you need to move your body in synchrony with the music in specific ways, it connects you with the music in a deeper way than when you are just listening to it.

Paul McCartney says he’s on board with the game enthusiastically: “You want people to get engaged.”

McCartney sees the game as “a natural, modern extension” of what the Beatles did in the 60s, only now people can feel as if “they possess or own the song, that they’ve been in it.”

Yeah. You know what really makes me feel like I possess a song? If you let me remix it. But so, until then, this game is a good step.

Not everybody likes music-based video games. South Park’s parody of Guitar Hero gives voice to the widespread hostility that the rock world has towards anything virtual or electronic seeming. There’s the idea that because it’s not “real” music, Guitar Hero takes away from actual musical skill.

Gamers in turn are baffled by the criticism of what is, after all, “just a game.” People who play Halo or Gran Turismo are rarely asked why they don’t pick up a real gun or race real cars. You rarely hear that Monopoly is a waste of time because it doesn’t actually teach anything about buying hotels.

The Beatles are natural candidates for virtual treatment. From Revolver onwards, they were purely a studio band. Most of those later songs are difficult to play live, and some of them are impossible. In the later years there are the futuristic experiments with analog synths and sampling and tape editing. The Beatles at times resembled an electronica band more than a rock band. Paul McCartney even produced some experimental ambient techno with Delia Derbyshire, back when that meant vacuum-tube oscillators and reel-to-reel tape. He recognizes that the tools are less important than the art behind it.

The teacup clattered quietly on its saucer, and McCartney thought about the changes he’d seen in the music world. “There were no cassette recorders” when he and Lennon first started writing songs, he noted. “We just had to remember it. Then suddenly there were cassettes, then we were working on four track instead of two track, then you got off tape, then you’ve got stereo — which we thought just made it twice as loud. We thought that was a really brilliant move.” After the Beatles came CDs, digital downloads and now video games. “I don’t really think there’s any difference. At the base of it all, there’s the song. At the base of it, there’s the music.”

So if this is all about people enjoying music, why is there so much resistance from musicians? Why are real guitarists so threatened? I get the sense that videogame “rock drag” is offensive to people who don’t like any kind of drag. This is a tension that goes way back before video games. From Little Richard to Mick Jagger to Michael Jackson, a lot of popular music is made by people who challenge our gender signifiers. Rock is a hypermasculine, ultraheterosexual form, but a lot of those dudes sing and dress and dance like chicks, and vice versa. Rock stars have a lot of leeway with gender roles that sports stars and politicians don’t. Rock is also pretty anxious about all of the crossdressing, an anxiety usually comes out disguised as a concern about authenticity.

The anxiety about music games also reminds me of rock’s ambivalence about synthesizers, especially among hard rock fans. Hard rock is supposed to be raw and authentic. Synthesizers are not considered by the hard rock audience to be raw or authentic. Metal fans never forgave Van Halen for the synth intro in “Jump.” They love to chuckle at the video of the band flailing to play along with the digital tape at the wrong speed and pitch. But even if they don’t like the idea of synths, rock fans find it hard to resist the sound. Rock is a sonically sophisticated art form, and if you really want to push the envelope, fattening up your guitar sounds with epically huge synthesizer waveforms can sound awesome. Warrant used to tour with a keyboard player who played from offstage and who they never mentioned.

I’ve made a commitment to let go of authenticity. I’ve had a lot more fun both listening to and playing music since I made that decision. Digital fakery feels more real to me than playing acoustic instruments half the time anyway. What matters to me is that everybody’s having a good time. Beatles drag has reliably been fun in other media, I see no reason why it won’t make a great video game.

Update: I finally did get to play Beatles Rock Band and it’s every bit as awesome as advertised. Also, here’s a good quote from a blog post by Jeff Vogel arguing that Rock Band is really a tool to facilitate deep listening:

I don’t want to make music. There are not enough hours in the day. I need a new creative outlet sucking up my time like I need a hole in my head. But I absolutely love to listen to music. And, when I play Rock Band, I play the songs I want to listen to, and I noodle along with them in a rhythmic, physical way that adds to my enjoyment of the song.

I still think this is pretty close to the experience of playing in a cover band, that it’s more a matter of studying existing music more closely than it is about expressing yourself. Playing is mostly about listening.