11-13 More commercial watching
I'm not sure why I keep going back to the subject of music in commercials, maybe it's just the most infuriating thing I can think of. In the wake of more and more bands refusing to do commercials (see Trans Am throwing away a heap of money to do a Hummer ad), the Texas alt-country band Old 97s have vomited out a jingle for Chili's baby back ribs. It's such a crappy version of an Old 97s song that I thought, wow, what a crap soundalike. Tom Waits should sue. Unfortunately, not the case. A quick Googling gave me the Old 97s' myspace page, and this blog post. Modest Mouse shills for minivans and Target, Matador Records strike a deal with Best Buy, and Of Montreal pimps Outback Steakhouse. Sometimes I feel like I'm living in a bizarro world. Of course, a week in the Pop Century hotel and anyone might end up feeling that way.
On another note, pertaining to stronger musical ethics than current indie rock, I went to see American Hardcore. The interviews were cool in places, especially seeing what some of the people looked like after 20 years of smashing things up. Most were spaced out or permanently slurry, except of course, Ian MacKaye and publicity whore Henry Rollins. The performance footage was cool as well; nothing on par with Decline of Western Civilization but there was some really great Minor Threat stuff. All in all, it could have been a little more hard-hitting and a little less of a lovefest. After all, it wasn't real pretty: Black Flag's Greg Ginn was a jerk who went through singers like most people change pants, Bad Brains turned into homophobic Rastas who ripped off half the public, and violence was more prevalent than actual music in the scene.
While I was out seeing the movie, my dog somehow got out of her crate and ate a heaping pile of her favorite snack that I won't let her have, chocolate. 24 hours later, she's still alive and eating, so hopefully permanent nerve damage is meaningless to someone so dumb.
On another note, pertaining to stronger musical ethics than current indie rock, I went to see American Hardcore. The interviews were cool in places, especially seeing what some of the people looked like after 20 years of smashing things up. Most were spaced out or permanently slurry, except of course, Ian MacKaye and publicity whore Henry Rollins. The performance footage was cool as well; nothing on par with Decline of Western Civilization but there was some really great Minor Threat stuff. All in all, it could have been a little more hard-hitting and a little less of a lovefest. After all, it wasn't real pretty: Black Flag's Greg Ginn was a jerk who went through singers like most people change pants, Bad Brains turned into homophobic Rastas who ripped off half the public, and violence was more prevalent than actual music in the scene.
While I was out seeing the movie, my dog somehow got out of her crate and ate a heaping pile of her favorite snack that I won't let her have, chocolate. 24 hours later, she's still alive and eating, so hopefully permanent nerve damage is meaningless to someone so dumb.
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