Monthly Archives: September 2007

Kanye West doesn’t care about black people.

Seriously, wtf is with the moment in the otherwise-gorgeous “Flashing Lights” (my favorite track by far on the new one) where lovelorn ‘Ye speaketh that the pain in his heart is “like Katrina with no FEMA,” and then follows it up with “Like Martin with no Gena”? Is this not the biggest trivialization of Katrina yet put to rhyme? It’s got some serious competition, like when Wayne rhymes “It’s been a year since Katrina hated.” (Yes, that’s what it did. It “hated” on New Orleans. That’s what “hateration” feels like. Like an entire city wiped out. Think about THAT next time you post “Wayne iz gay” on Nahright.com). JUELZ FUCKING SANTANA managed a more trenchant line about Katrina: “Wayne, I feel your pain and I see your stress/How your people s’posed to make it through Katrina off of FEMA check?”

At least those two lines are ABOUT Katrina. Kanye takes a personal inconvenience — getting caught cheating on his (beautiful) fiancee with some (likely also beautiful) groupie chick — and compares it to the a fucking near-Biblical natural disaster. I mean, why stop there!?

“When I read comments about me on SOHH.com, it’s exactly like 9/11.”

OR:

“When I didn’t win that MTV Video Music Award, which has all the value of a “World’s Best Dad” mug, it felt precisely like the abuse suffered by the prisoners at Guantanamo.”

OR

“When everyone made fun of me for wearing that lavendar tuxedo to the Grammys last year, it kind of reminded me of what Nelson Mandela went through.”

ETC ETC ET AL

XOXO
TN

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Filed under Pop, Posted by Tyco, RAP MUSIC, WTF

Harmony In Ultraviolet: Paranoia and WTF on a Sunday Night

So. Tonight. Started out with too many sports and one too many energy drinks. En route to “classic” Metal Night, it was The Studio’s Yearbook 1 (which, btw, is top five 2007). Night-is-young type of gently wistful 80-y Cure-in-Ibiza. Simple enough and figuring the night will be like any other late start. A drink or two and the trudge home. It’s what I expect at the bar: Kill ‘Em All, Faith No More, Sabbath. Work habit discussions, bar regular introductions, leftover whiskey. A slight tipsy, a longer-than-expected stay. Graceful exit around 2.

Start again with Yearbook, but even before leaving, I have Tim Hecker’s Harmony in Ultraviolet on the mind. Can’t say why. Yearbook comes off after 1/2 a block and the almost aggressive ambience of Harmony replaces. The whiskey tipsy already hits with a general weightlessness, etc, but something is going on now. It’s 2am on a Sunday, so obviously very few cars and even fewer street-walkers. I’m not keeping track of song changes, etc (a. cuz it’s ambient, who cares; b. cuz shit starts to HAPPEN, so, like, don’t jinx it).

There is a DISTORTION to this ambience that is unusual. It’s penetrating; unsettling; the first car I see is a cop car. One block later, another. No one on the streets. Huge, Ft. Greene townhouses each have one light on.

I’m walking and noticing EVERYTHING. It honestly feels like drugs; like an acute awareness offset with a certain loss of faculties. A new track starts and it’s like a movie, but, seriously (this is important), NOT CLICHE like it sounds. A simple three “chord” “melody” repeated. It drudges. It’s MONOTONOUS; pounding. I keep (KEEP) thinking that there is WAY too much artificial light. Abrasive street lights and supermarket signs. Bodega fake Christmas lights.

Two teenagers out of the corner of my eye coming from a Pratt dorm.

55 degrees; 2:12am.

The next track. I don’t want to break the “spell” – it seems important somehow. But I last only 10 or 15 seconds. It is unbearably and undeniably SCARY. I have to skip ahead.

By now I’m floating and I’m DESPERATELY trying to cram the images, sensations, facts, thoughts, circumstances, bullshit, etc. into some sort of permanence in my head-thing. I know I will lose it, but I figure I’ll “stream” it (as cheesy and DUH as that is).

Ok.

Just listen.

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Filed under Posted by Doorknobs, Stream, WTF