If you are an avid reader of S&C then you will undoubtedly know that we love a good cultural investigation. If you are not an avid reader of S&C then you should become one. Regardless of any of that, I will welcome you all to this article with a big ‘Hello’, and by telling you that here at S&C we love a good cultural investigation.
After a long week we’re back – and hot damn, do we have news for you.
Season two of PodThrash has finally arrived and like always, we tackle the hard hitting issues on everyone’s mind. This week we question the Toronto School Boards decision to remove pop from schools (how are kids supposed to get fat now!?), the value of selling a kidney in India and watching our tax dollars vanish as Ontario Tourism film awful, public television commercials on the beach. You can go here for great tips on project management.
Getting a little deeper we examine the anatomy of a 45 year old. The soaring highs and crushing lows of watching your child play hockey while you wear the ‘parents windbreaker’, drink coffee from Styrofoam cups and fight to get them more ice time.
Then there’s the glorious day you tear up carpet and find beautiful hardwood.
Matt Taylor is a Brighton, England based artist whose work is a refreshingly brilliant combination of hand drawn line work and vector based imagery. His content can be summarized by his website bio: “I like drawing pictures for money, riding my bike, walking on the beach, appreciating comic books and rummaging through thrift stores for old photos.”
What I like about his work is the simplicity; the lines are crisp while the colours are simple and boldly fill the spaces. He is able to capture incredible imagery while still maintaining the unique, comic book style that he has worked to develop.
So this isn’t a story that we’re necessarily breaking here at Songs and Cigarettes. If you look around it has been treated far more delicately, and it’s one that’s getting off too easily elsewhere.
Bob Dylan’s grandson Pablo is using the assumed family name of Dylan to launch his rap career. As most people seem to be noting he acknowledges this in one of the only notable lyrics in the single “Top of The World” with: “I’m the grandson of a man nothing less than legendary/ that’s a lot of pressure so I Berry Gordy/ I am very Motown, BITCH”
This is almost interesting wordplay and the only example of anything notable in the track’s lyricism – sadly, really only in a laugh-at-him way. This is followed with “I’ma get that crown/ while I’m at it I might reinvent sound”…
The song consists of a throw-away, generic auto-tuned chorus (great for radio), typical lines, and little originality or substance. “The bitches always hated/ cause they knew they couldn’t get some/ couldn’t fuck around/ otherwise they would get none”
Of special note to me is the portion of the song from 2:45 – 2:57 which has that “I-don’t-remember-this-part-of-the-national-anthem” feeling that you get so often at a sports game.
It’s just depressing that such a mediocre showing will garner so much attention from familial ties.
If you click through to the Youtube page for the video there is a link to download the whole album in the description box if you’re into the masochism thing. Oh and he’s 15 (I’m so sorry) so at least we have a lot to look forward to in his career. Hopefully he actually develops some sort of talent if he’s going to be around for awhile.
William Elliott Whitmore is not what one might expect. With a soulful rasp not unlike the famed blues singers of old, Whitmore more closely resembles the likes of a manic, tattoo-clad punker lost in time. Fitting, really, as his music offers a similar vein; lost in another time singing of field, fallen, and the times before.
Field Songs his latest release is not unlike his previous work. A single guitar, Whitmore’s signature voice and eight tracks spanning tales with nostalgic memories of his homeland, Iowa. While the album might seem far too simplistic of effort – especially considering the sheer minimalist approach of man, guitar, and voice – the formula rings perfect on Field Songs.
From the opening track “Bury Your Burdens in the Ground” Whitmore’s roots are evident. Hell, the album starts and ends with farm sounds (birds chirping, roosters singing, etc.). What’s more, the songs flow so effortlessly into one another the all-too-short 34 minute record is near perfect in result. Followed by the title track (“Field Songs”), Whitmore regales with tales of the west and the hardships that defined it. Given
Write this down and don’t forget, let the best of times ain’t happen yet
Given the folk revival that has become so quickly adopted by the aging frontmen of former punk glory (Ben Nichols, Chuck Ragan, Tim Barry, Dave Haus, and so on and so on), likewise Whitmore falls so easily into this scene one can drive themselves three kinds of crazy hoping for a particular tour roster of these tattoo’d journeymen.
Sure, one has to be in a particular mood to appreciate the cut and dry approach, but given a proper lazy afternoon of sun and drink, well, it’s a surefire fit.
Really? We’re surprised that the new Blink 182 song isn’t good? I think people need to stop expecting this band to remake Dude Ranch or Enema of the State and just accept that they’ve given up. The only redeeming quality of “Up All Night” are the verses where Mark and Tom get back to their classic alternating singing. Aside from that, the song is a mix of stolen riffs from earlier Blink, Boxcar Racer and Angels and Airwaves songs and ultimately makes the song feel uninspired and misplaced.
Don’t get me wrong. I LOVE Blink 182. My appreciation comes from listening to them as a young teenager when the most important things were liters of Coke, mint Aero bars and trying to finally land frontside nose slides. Sure its juvenile and simplistic but there were few better moments in my life than the first time I was able to jam out Dammit with my horrible (but incredible), 9th grade band. No matter what they release, they will never be the band I’ve romanticized over the years. They’ve become such an important staple in how I remember my youth, that the idea of Blink 182 completely overshadows the band itself – there is no way the could ever top themselves.
Also, how shitty was Angels and Airwaves?
PodThrash is the product of too many late nights after too much to drink. Conversation that ran into worlds of non-sensical banter with brief, but incredible, flashes of brilliance. It is the recorded trash talking of three guys who think they know everything but regularly realize they know nothing at all.