One Night Stand in North Dakota - 'Dworkin's Bastards'

Good things: British accents, Billy Bragg, protest music, treatin’ ladies decent, British accents, J.D. Salinger, punk rock, social commentary, a sense of humor, and British accents.

Things you’ll find on Dworkin’s Bastards by One Night Stand in North Dakota: Everything above, except, sadly, for good ol’ jokes. The acoustic duo of Daniel Ellis and Nathan Griffin has two modes, super serious and super anthemic. When the latter’s engaged, as on “We Definitely Didn’t Start the Fire” or “Good News Everyone, I’m Still Technically Alive,” ONSIND delivers full-force folk-punk rants, campfire-ready and informative to boot. Ellis and Griffin do a lot more than just strum a couple of chords; guitar leads pop up throughout the record, adding little flourishes here and there. Hooks crop up as well, like the gang vocals implemented for the phrase “One more meter of concrete / One more local shop closed down / No matter how much they change it / This is still our town” on “A Generous Exposition.” The tune ponders cities’ gentrification and homogenization , and like a way more liberal Schoolhouse Rock song, it teaches through music.

When the super serious mode kicks in, though, the band comes off a little too self-righteous. “If You Feel Attacked by Feminism, It’s Probably a Counter-Attack” discusses the disconnect between the self-image Western culture perpetuates about women and the way women actually are, and it’s the sort of song I respect more than I like. It’s cool that someone wrote a song that actually talks stats (“The average British woman is a size 16, but the average British model is a 6… We’re drowning in the Beauty Myth”) But while it drops some much needed truth bombs, it also contains an unwieldy lyrical flow. The instrumentation doesn’t do anything remarkable until the ominous, tense outro. Still informative, just not as memorable.

Sometimes the song’s plots overwhelm and dampen the music. “Memoirs of a Dutiful Daughter” is arguably one of the catchiest tracks on Dworkin’s Bastards, but man is it a stupid song. The main character, Gretchen, pulls a Squeaky Fromme by pointing a gun without any bullets in the chamber at a politician. Oddly, in gun-toting America Squeaky was arrested and sent to prison. In the U.K., however, Gretchen eats lead. Turns out she sacrificed herself to get a note read on the news about how society holds us all down. The note itself is kind of catchy; the steps this Catcher in the Rye enthusiast took to get it on the air are kind of juvenile. But while “Daughter” is the Sorrows of Young Werther of folk-punk songs – romantically suicidal to the point of idiocy – it’s goes out on a rousing note.

Dworkin’s Bastards is a mixed bag; plenty of people will think the record is obnoxiously intense about politics. Some might get turned off by the occasionally shrill vocals, or the lack of drums, or the number of song titles that reference Billy Joel (“We Definitely Didn’t Start the Fire,” “Scenes From a Shit Restaurant”). But set aside the fact that Dworkin’s Bastards isn’t a pop record and one just might notice how honest and furious the thing sounds. One Night Stand in North Dakota probably won’t get mainstream recognition, but that’s the culture the band is fighting.

regarding Barack Obama.

I've got CNN on mute and Rock Against Bush Volume 2 on the stereo. It's still somewhat hard to believe that this day ever came. We finally have our first half-white president; but more importantly, I finally have a president I believe in. He's the first presidential candidate I've voted for that actually won.

I've been watching the coverage on and off. I loved Barack Obama's speech. I even loved that he flubbed his inaugaration oath. I love that, for all of his campaign promises about hope and change, Obama is being a realist about the work ahead. He knows that he could easily become another Jimmy Carter - an idealist overcome by his nation's bad economy and restraint - but he's not going to go that route easily.

But while I'm relieved to see this transition of power go smoothly, there's a part of me that also feels disappointed. Obama's "team of rivals" approach to building his cabinet leaves me wary. Mostly, though, I think I'm just bitter that George W. Bush got away. I want him brought up on war crimes. I want him incarcerated. Until then, I'll always have satire and rock albums.



Records I'm spinning today to celebrate Barack Obama's new presidency:
-Against Me! - Searching For a Former Clarity [for Condoleeeeeeeeezzzaaaaa]
-Face to Face - Face to Face [for reminding me that "everyone can't be right / but everyone will decide" in 2004. I did not lie down. I did not walk away]
-Green Day - American Idiot [C'monnnnn]
-Bruce Springsteen - The Rising [here's your hope]
-Various Artists - Music for America and Moveon.org present Future Soundtrack for America
-Various Artists - Rock Against Bush Volumes 1 & 2

ALSO, if you want one of those Obama/Bowie shirts above, e-mail James Heimer at bitch01@comcast.net. $15 per.

Finally, please enjoy this modest gift of a YouTube clip. Expect more music-y posts tomorrow.

regarding Neko Case's new single

Neko Case, she of fox confessin' and new pornographin' fame, released a new ditty entitled "People Got a Lot of Nerve" for free on these very Internets. It's the lead single from her upcoming new album, Middle Cyclone, due March 3. If you like things that are pretty, shimmerin', country-tastic, and totally cool, check it out.

BUT WAIT THERE IS MORE FOR YOUR FACE: Neko and her label, ANTI-, are using the song to promote the Best Friends Animal Society. Now through Feb. 3, ANTI- will donate $5 for every blog post and $1 for every iLike that adds this song. Be sure to e-mail newmedia@epitaph.com to confirm your posts. So, here is a super easy way to save the cute woodland creature of our planet: ROCK!

People Got A Lotta Nerve - Neko Case

If yer still not sold, here's a blurb from ANTI-:

"Celebrating its 25th anniversary in 2009, Best Friends Animal Society is one of America’s foremost animal rescue organizations. Founded in 1984, Best Friends advances nationwide animal welfare initiatives by working with shelter and rescue groups around the country. On any given day Best Friends Animal Sanctuary, the nation’s largest facility for abused, abandoned and special needs companion animals located in southwestern Utah, is home to approximately 2,000 dogs, cats, horses, rabbits, birds, and other animals. The society also publishes Best Friends magazine, the nation’s largest general interest, pet-related magazine with approximately 300,000 subscribers. For more information, visit www.bestfriends.org."

C'MON!

Philip Norman - 'John Lennon: The Life'

John Lennon was a dick.

That’s pretty much what I learned from Philip Norman’s John Lennon: The Life, so it’s not surprising that Lennon’s widow, Yoko Ono, didn’t endorse the book’s release, claiming that Norman was “mean to John” (p.820). While Ono, and many of Lennon’s comrades, claim that he was a humorous, loving, charming fellow, there’s also no denying that the man was a chauvinist, a sex fiend, a drug addict, a dubious friend, and an even worse father as far as son Julian and stepdaughter Kyoko are concerned (Fact: Lennon once almost killed them both in a car accident because he refused to do anything to fix his eyesight).

Further dampening the read is Norman’s style – lavishly, obnoxiously approving of the slightest details of Lennon’s life yet brief and even dismissive of certain artistic triumphs. “Imagine” gets blown off as “hackneyed and can hardly be called alluring,” with its lyrics labeled as “nowhere near the standard he reached in, say, ‘Norwegian Wood’” (p. 673). Meanwhile, like half of a chapter (“Shortsighted John Wimple Lennon”) gets dedicated to Lennon’s voracious childhood appetite for masturbation. In fact, Lennon and his best friend at the time, Pete Shotton, “wanked together as an act of… rebellion and defiance and mutual showing off” (p. 73). Norman’s admiration for Lennon’s sexual capacity is deeply weird.

Indeed, as an historical analyst, Norman often veers of course. He gets some obvious points right (Dude demoed “Norwegian Wood,” a song about his infidelities, for his first wife, Cynthia, which is fucked up), but his take on “Working Class Hero” comes off sounding like a freshmen English major’s earliest attempts at a college writing seminar. Sometimes, the book feels very much like it does not need to be 800+ pages.

But as an historian, Norman is awfully thorough. Yoko might hate the book for hurting John’s legacy, but she could never claim that The Life is libelous. This book is an exhaustive study of the ex-Beatle’s many faults and blessings. If readers can bypass the over-the-top prose and focus on the research, they will find a Lennon bio that cuts through Beatles mythology in search of truth. On that level, The Life is revelatory.

Given that he’s one of the most renowned and prolific songwriters of the 20^th century, it’s funny how John barely figures into The Life’s first 50 pages or so. The book actually begins with the working class hero’s grandfather, also named John, an Irish musician who took part in the “first transatlantic popular music industry” (p. 4) during the late 1800s. Then the book moves to John’s parents, Alf Lennon and Julia Stanley. From there, Norman exhaustively covers John’s difficult childhood, The Quarrymen, the Hamburg years, conquering America, Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, “Instant Karma,” heroin, Sean Lennon, the Black Panthers, marijuana, Rock and Roll, New York City, and John’s eventual assassin, Mark David Chapman.

Again, John Lennon – The Life is a difficult, uneven (and poorly copy edited) read. The musical criticism isn’t too abundant or informative, especially during the post-Beatles years. At the same time, though, it’s not like readers need Norman to validate the significance of “She Loves You.” The flavor’s not quite right, but the facts are indisputable. The Life is a staggering collection of anecdotes, interviews, and inferences, detailing John Lennon’s life as completely as any of us can post-1980.

regarding my trip to Canada.

[So, uh, I went to Canada last week to visit my special lady friend's family. Just got back yesterday. Here's a journal I kept in my Terrel Davis spiral notebook. Expect me to step up mah reviews in due time.]

Night before:

"Johnny plays sitar and he's an existentialist." This collection of early David Bowie singles is obnoxious. Time to watch more episodes of How I Met Your Mother and hope for sleep...

Thundercats is way better than most '80s cartoons from my youth, yet still very terrible. Joe Jackson's Beat Crazy is kinda good, except when it drops the n-word... A LOT.

The car is overloaded... danger at every turn. Two feet of snow in Ontario.

Readin' Philip Norman's John Lennon - The Life. It tries to too hard to validate every shit Lennon took while glossing over some of his greatest artistic achievements. Excellent historical record, though [Expect a review around these parts... eventually].

Here is a complete list of the records I listened to on this trip:


-Tori Amos - from the choir girl hotel
-The Arcade Fire - Funeral [IN CANADA THIS IS CONSIDERED CULTURALLY APPROPRIATE. Also, my word, I forgot how perfect this record sounds!]
-The Beatles - A Hard Day's Night
-The Beatles - Help
-The Beatles - Magical Mystery Tour
-The Beatles - Revolver
-The Beatles - Rubber Soul
-The Beatles - Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band
-The Beatles - Something New
-Big D and The Kids Table - "Halfway Home" [In honor of Cicero, New York, the alleged midpoint between Bowmanville, Ontario and Blue Bell, Pennsylvania.]
-The Bird & The Bee - The Bird & The Bee
-Black Sabbath - Master of Reality
-David Bowie - Aladdin Sane
-John Lennon - Lennon Legend: The Very Best of John Lennon
-John Lennon - "Real Love"
-Mirah - You Think It's Like This But Really It's Like This ["I'll have eyes / That have seen the wilds of Pennsylvania / in the winter time" and such.]
-Portugal. The Man - Censored Colors
-The Raveonettes - Beauty Dies
-The Raveonettes - "Merry Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)"
-The Raveonettes - Sometimes They Drop By
-Silversun Pickups - Carnavas
-The Smashing Pumpkins - Pisces Iscariot
-Various Artists - Instant Karma: The Amnesty International Campaign To Save Darfur
-The Wrens - Secaucus

Watched:
-Joe Strummer and The Mescaleros - Let's Rock Again! [Incredible documentary of The Mescaleros on the road circa Global a-Go-Go. It's suffocatingly sentimental like The Future is Unwritten, showing Strummer in some desperate bids to promote the record. He crashes boardwalks and radio stations to sell his Atlantic City show as if he wasn't ever in The Clash. Astoundingly, a lot of people act the same way. Great concert footage too. My iPod's battery died 1:30 away from the ending]
-Network [Or, at the first 10 minutes...]

The drive:
Mr. Muir's pants fell down when he got out to get gas in Cicero. That was weird.



The Muirs go to the same Cracker Barrel every time they go to Canada because it's the midway point between Bowmanville and Blue Bell. The food's actually kind of good. Deliciously buttery, which will prolly kill me. [Note: We ate there again on the way home, at which point I purchased a best of from The Coasters, entirely because they had a song called "The Shadow Knows."]

Played a lot of music trivia with Michelle on her iPod.

Phrases that should be song titles:
1. "You Dare to Mock Mum-ra?!"
2. "Put This Blade in Your Razor!"
3. "He's a Dweeb! He's a Nerd! He's a Socialist!"
4. "Owa-owa-owa-Oshawa"
5. "The Shadow Knows" [OH WAIT IT IS A SONG YES!]

Saw Shawn [NOTE: this is my special lady friend's older brother] & co. Ashley is still eerily excited to see us. Michael is still an eccentric hellion that doesn't know my name. Tonight, I am "This Boy." Melodie is in a pretty good mood; we collectively discuss movis and how screwed up America's health care system and economy have become.



Then we went to the hotel. After trying two ATMs, I am finally able to withdraw $40 Canadian. Our first night in Canada and we didn't got a Tim Horton's.

Canada has mall goths.

Michelle's Aunt Darlene and Uncle Ken drove up from Niagara for the night. They're wacky; it's great. Ken and Mr. Muir take turns antagonizing our waitress at Outback Steakhouse. Also great.

Michelle's got a fever, so I spend the night with her at the hotel while the rest of her family goes to see Shawn and the kids. We watch a documentary about the Nazi's attempts to conquer a subterranean race of super-beings during World War II.


Finally went to a Tim Horton's. Shit was illin'. Michelle and I babysat the youngins while the big kids went out to dinner with one of Mr. Muir's old friends. Looking at baby Mathew, I though, "Yeah, I could have kids." Then Mattie Boom-battie flipped shit, Michael threw a fit over going to bed, and the Chinese food we ordered sucked. Canadians are way too in to fried food (hypocrisy from an American, prehaps?). I totally see the appeal in raw veganism right now. The night was exhausting but rewarding. The kids are alright, and Ashley lets me play as much Mario Kart Wii as I wanted. Then we went home, pigged out on hippie food from Trader Joe's (dried snap pea taste like baked chicken skin and French rub. Discuss), and watching Saturday Night Live and Tank Girl.






Played more Wii with the kids, plus indoor basketball. Back home, Michelle's car imploded.

Got-damn, Canadian water tastes weird.

Michelle gets a bit funny in the head when she listens to Kimya Dawson. The photo to the right isn't quite it.

Mr. and Mrs. Muir put on some Celine Dion bullshit on the drive home, but Michelle and I perk up for the Romeo + Juliet soundtrack. Michelle can pretty much quote the whole play.

Border patrol almost didn't let Michelle back into the U.S. because of her numerous aliases. It was funny.

I bought my parents a bottle of Canadian chardenet with Canadian currency. I am an international businessman. I resisted picking up chocolate in a stupid attempt to be healthy. I caved and purchased an Aero bar, though. It's a chocolate bar filled filled with air bubbles. Take that as you will. Michelle wants everyone to know that she is eating a Luna bar.

Now she's done.

Eric, Erin, and Sam Fran all texted me "Ace of spades!" at the same time Friday night. Man do I wish I could've come out for the Collegian alumni drankin' social. That being said, I'm so glad I took a break from my stupid job to act like a jackass with Michelle's neice and nephew. Very rewarding.

Then I came home and found a bunch of records on my bed!

...I miss The Ergs!...

Gatorface - 'Sick and Stupid'

Things Gatorface Taught Me

1. Like my gran-pappy used to say (or was it Mike Park?), mail order is still fun.

Thanks to a sampler that No Idea Records included with a previous purchase, I got turned on to Gatorface. Along with Virgins, Gatorface is a spin-off from the former Floridian hardcore group New Mexican Disaster Squad by ex-members Alex Goldfarb and Richard Minino. Intrigued by what No Idea sent me, I opted to order the group’s debut EP, Sick and Stupid. Vinyl-only, my baby came on translucent gold wax, one-sided, with a nifty etching of a needle injecting a tentacle during a thunderstorm. It’s very Lovecraftian.

2. If all else fails, you can always play pop punk.

The differences between New Mexican Disaster Squad and Gatorface are ultimately minimal. While NMDS might recall Strike Anywhere or Government Issue’s blistering yet snotty hardcore/punk, Gatorface skews ever so slightly towards punk of the pop variety. This is the sort of lifestyle change that will be a big deal to maybe 0.000001 percent of the world’s population at most. The rest of us can revel in how infectious Sick and Stupid sounds. It recalls Descendents, or maybe even Propagandhi circa How to Clean Everything.

3. Sick and Stupid is jawesome.

Offering six cuts (one of ‘em a DI cover!) in less than 13 minutes, Sick and Stupid blends early ’80s hardcore and early ’90s pop punk, with high quality results. The knock-out of the collection is “Kid in a Candy Store.” Fast drums and a quick guitar strum kick it off, but it’s when the whoas kick off in the pre-chorus that things start to tingle the spider sense. The song builds into this thrilling explosion of pop punk euphoria (in cut time!). Goldfarb sounds remarkably assured throughout, but he really cuts his teeth on the lines “It’s only time, before we end up like the others / The difference now is that the stakes have grown much higher.” Everything gets pounded out for a few bars before the rhythm section drops out. Even with just guitar and a few more whoas, the vocals still come off as anthemic.

“Kid in a Candy Store” follows the pop punk rule of vague lyrics, but listeners won’t be able to build their own meanings quite as easily with songs like “Flak Jacket.” Goldfarb takes to task Americans who, despite all evidence to the contrary, still support military involvement in the Middle East. At 83 seconds in length, the song cuts straight to the point – “Flak jacket / Would you wear it?”

Regardless of how much one likes to read into lyrics, though, there’s no denying Sick and Stupid’s delicious slabs o’ punk. It’s a catchy, rocking romp throughout, and since it’s one-sided, there’s no need to flip the record. Digital fans get some love courtesy of a download code. New Mexican Disaster Squad isn’t really dead; just call ‘em Gatorface now.

R.I.P. Ron Asheton

Stooges guitarist (and occasional bassist) Ron Asheton, age 60, was found dead in his home, according to the Detroit Free Press. I'll skip the eulogy and just tell you to go buy Fun House instead.