CrushingKrisis.com

[caption id=”attachment_6355” align=”alignright” width=”300” caption=”From GQ, illustrated by Cliff Chiang”][/caption]

Marvel’s The Avengers opens tonight in the US, and by all critic and audience accounts (having opened abroad last week) it is one of the most enjoyable comic book movies ever made.

That comes as no surprise to me - it was written and directed by Joss Whedon.

For all of you about to say, “Oh, I love Joss Whedon!” please allow me to share my Whedon Credibility, which will trump all of y’alls’:

I made my father take me to see Buffy the Vampire Slayer in the movie theatre when I was ten years old, because I loved vampires. Then, in 1997 when I saw that Buffy would be a mid-season replacement in TV Guide I saved the issue and checked the WB’s schedule religiously each week until the show appeared. I never missed an episode until I left for college.

As one of the 1% of Joss’s oldest fans, I am incredibly happy he is about to become the director of one of the top five highest-grossing debut weekend films of all time. He deserves it. He is a freaking genius, and it would benefit the entire world if he was given enough respect, money, and autonomy to make whatever art he wants to make whenever he wants to make it for the next several decades.

There is no amount of over-exposed he can get that will annoy me. I will always love him, even though I stormed out of the theatre when we saw Serenity screaming that I would never watch anything of his ever again.

He also gives outstanding interview, and the first-ever big screen comic book crossover movie is yielding what is sure to be the biggest haul of Whedon sit-downs in the entire past and future of this timeline.

Behold:

GQ: I ask him if there’s some validation to getting The Avengers, at long last—if he felt like his early work had opened up a door that, until now, he himself never got to walk through.

“That’s a really beautiful thing to say,” he says, and pauses for a second, stares at his lap, processing. “I’m kind of a little bit—I, a little bit, feel that way. I didn’t, really, until you said it, but now I totally do.”
…
So he goes in and pitches [his pre-Nolan vision for Batman]. He’s on fire, practically shaking. “And the executive was looking at me like I was Agent Smith made of numbers. He wasn’t seeing me at all. And I was driving back to work, and I was like, ‘Why did I do that? Why did I get so invested in that Batman story? How much more evidence do I need that the machine doesn’t care about my vision? And I got back to work and got a phone call that Firefly was cancelled. And I was like, ‘It was a rhetorical question! It was not actually a request! Come on!’”

Next up…

Forbes: “The Dark Knight,” for me, has the same problem that every other “Batman” movie has. It’s not about Batman. I think Heath Ledger is just phenomenal and the character of the Joker is beautifully written. He has a particular philosophy that he carries throughout the movie. He has one of the best bad guy schemes. Bad guy schemes are actually very hard to come up with. I love his movie, but I always feel like Batman gets short shrift. In “Batman Begins,” the pathological, unbalanced, needy, scary person in the movie is Batman. That’s what every “Batman” movie should be.
…
I have one particular theme, and it ties in with what I was talking about with the corporations, and that’s helplessness. The empowerment of someone who’s helpless. And that has everything to do with how I feel about myself. Buffy was a pretty blond girl of whom nothing was expected, who didn’t try very hard at anything, and then suddenly became the most powerful person around — that theme, whether it’s empowerment or the discovery that one is powerless, that drives everything I do.

But, this one was most epic in length and scope…

Wired: I mean [Dollhouse is] potentially the most offensive show in the history of television. And to me it’s also the most pure feminist and empowering statement I ever made. It’s somebody building themselves from nothing. As has been told in legend and is actually true, I thought of it because I was having lunch with [Dollhouse star] Eliza [Dushku], and she was talking about what everybody expected from her. “Well, these people say I should be this, and these people say I should be that.” And I was like, oh, click, that’s the show. And I know what the name is. And when I know the name, that’s usually a bad sign. I literally went home and said to my wife, “Honey, I accidentally created a Fox show.”

And one of the things that we talked about at that lunch, one of the things that was the mainstay of the show, was sex. It was about how people relate to each other sexually, what they want from each other sexually, what they want from each other romantically, how these two things are interlinked and how they’re separate. The show was on some level supposed to be a celebration of human perversion, because perversion, like obsession, is the thing that makes people passionate and interesting and worthy. And people who are nothing, like Echo and the other dolls, are learning to be someone. And part of learning to be someone is learning to be someone that nobody else wants to be. Eliza said, “I want to explore sexuality. Not just wear sexy outfits,” although she’s like, “I would like to do that too.”
…
It may be that I’m not as invested. But I guess the thing that I want to say about fandom is that it’s the closest thing to religion there is that isn’t actually religion. The love of something and what it’s trying to accomplish or mean are usually very separate. The people who are like, “Well you can’t do it. That staircase was seven steps, not five.” They totally missed the point of this. When I first met the comic book writer Brian Michael Bendis, we were talking about comics and he told me his favorite letter was, “Daredevil would never say that. Die. Die. Why can’t you just die?”

(Wired: Well, it makes a good point.)

And Bendis can’t, by the way. Sunlight, stake through the heart, beheading, he won’t die. He’s actually very powerful.

Happy Joss Whedon Day!

Original Article

On Monday it was Amanda Palmer’s birthday.

[caption id=”” align=”alignright” width=”314” caption=”Amanda Fucking Palmer holding a keetar. Note how she and Lady Gaga are in many ways the same person.”][/caption]I have written about Amanda before. She was half the astounding Dresden Dolls before she released a frankly stunning and sadly slept-on solo album, Who Killed Amanda Palmer? and then got intentionally dropped from her label, meandering off to make an album as half of a conjoined twin act, marry Neil Gaiman, and then dabble in the world of ukuleles and Radiohead cover songs.

It’s not the most linear or discernible path for an artist to take, but somehow Amanda not only makes it work, she acquires more new fans at every turn. Not just casual fans. Insatiable, intelligent, invested true fans. I say it is because she is so indelibly real, even when she is being completely ludicrous.

Back to her birthday. It was Monday, and it marked not only the start of another year in Amanda’s life, but the completion of recording a new album with her band Grand Theft Orchestra.

To celebrate, she created a Kickstarter campaign to fundraise for the album release, promotion, and supporting tour. She set the goal at $100,000 - pretty massive for a Kickstarter campaign - but did she have 5,000 true fans willing to chip in $20 each to help her get there?

She made the limit in seven hours. By the next day she had a quarter of a million dollars. At the end of day three she currently sits at the $400,000 mark, with four weeks of fundraising to go. There is an honest chance that Amanda Palmer may briefly become a millionaire before she creates all of the albums, art books, and USB record players that go with the campaign and travels the world with Grand Theft Orchestra to share her new music - and that will be a million dollars well spent.

I gave almost immediately, mostly out of principal. Based on the past few ukulele things I thought the record would be weird and indulgent and I would just be satisfied that I am supporting an artist I admire.

Then I watched this Kickstarter commercial, rife with clips of new songs … every single one of them amazing.

Now I have not only pledged in exchange for music, but I am going in purchasing an Amanda Palmer House Party for Philadelphia, which means after seeing her four times as the Dresden Dolls and two times solo I am now going to see her in a living room with about three dozen other people sitting on the floor.

(Not only that, but she inspired me to shattered a long-running streak of writer’s block, and I already have two peculiar new songs to show for it.)

Amanda Palmer isn’t operating from anyone’s model but her own, and she breaks the mold every time she dreams up a new project.

She is the new music industry. We are the media.

Happy Birthday, Amanda Fucking Palmer.

Original Article

It was our third time through “Don’t Stop Believin’” when I really did start believing Arcati Crisis could be an actual wedding band.

Rewind ten days. Onstage at a near-empty Tin Angel, my voice felt as though it was going to snap in half. I sang “Better” and “Bucket Seat” robotically, relying on muscle memory to find some in tune notes in the pain.

Fast forward four days. Gina was too sick to rehearse, so Jake and I gathered in my attic to stare down a list of twenty new songs we had exactly four weeks to learn. It seemed daunting.

[caption id=”attachment_6348” align=”alignright” width=”430” caption=”Arcati Crisis rocking at Fergies in March, courtesy of @polymwac”][/caption]

Reverse a month. We are playing “Apocalyptic Love Song” to a packed Fergie’s Pub, and everyone knows the words.

Finally, reverse the calendar back to February. I am a little tipsy at Gina’s dining room table with the entire team of bloggers behind PolySkeptic, half of which are two of Gina’s significant others, the pair of soon-to-be newlyweds Shaun and Ginny.

Ginny and Shaun were not planning typical wedding, and both Gina and I successfully threw a pair of atypical, untraditional, unusual weddings for ourselves. With all the uniqueness at the table, we decided it was a great idea for Arcati Crisis to act as the entertainment for their festivities. I pulled out my spreadsheet of 3,500 pieces of sheet music and we all had at it, picking out our favorite dance songs.

As the night (and, let’s be frank: the beer) wore on, our picks became more outlandish. AC covering “The Sign”? Awesome. AC covering “Don’t Stop Believin’”? No problem. We left planning to learn 4-6 new songs for the wedding, but there was also the little matter of the 4-6 new songs we were already learning as a band. We were tearing through an amazing batch of new originals, plus a pair of new covers - “A Little Respect” by Erasure, and “Love Game” by Lady Gaga.

That new batch debuted on March 16 at an awesome gig at Fergie’s Pub. It was one of those shows where everything went right. We shared the bill with Andra Taylor and Amanda Wells, and the energy in the room was incredible - as were we. I barely had a critique of myself on the way home, which is a rare occasion. I even broke a string mid-set and didn’t sweat it, simply switching to my backpacker guitar to debut our new songs.

We expected to have two entire months to learn our 4-6 cover songs, but just before the Fergie’s show we decided to take a April 19 gig at The Tin Angel. It was a month out from our last show - plenty of time to recuperate and recruit an audience, even if it pushed out our cover-learning a little.

Sadly, the Tin gig was the polar opposite of Fergies. I was in terrible voice, no thanks to a stressful week of events and meetings. We had gear problems throughout the set, probably helping accelerate the already-speedy exit of the fans brought by prior acts on the bill. After I managed to eek out the last notes of “Song for Mrs. Schroeder” from my dying voice and out-of-tune guitar I was off the stage before everyone else in the band.

Those nights are hard. You can be a well-rehearsed machine and still have an off night. I’ve seen it happen to artists a thousand times bigger than us.

What I’m sure is true for artists of any size is that it’s not only the actual night that’s hard, but the wait until your next rehearsal or show. All you have is that bad taste on your brain and fingers. It doesn’t help when that next rehearsal involves learning a slew of new songs for one of the most-anticipated days of someone’s life - especially when your star cover-singer (AKA Gina) is home sick.

Jake and I started out slowly sans Gina. We only needed 4-6 songs, after all. Oh, but what if we add another? And what if we tried that one? And wouldn’t it be fun if we really covered “You Sexy Thing”?

Here’s where being a well-rehearsed machine comes in handy. Jake can pick out the skeleton of any song on bass - it doesn’t matter if it’s a cover or an original. I can arrange anything for a band, even seemingly single-note songs. Between the two of us, we learned the basics of 20 cover songs.

You know what else? I listened to the recording of the Tin Angel. Yes, the gear problems are evident, but my voice? Sounded just fine. It might have been the best version of “Better” I’ve ever sung, even if I felt like I would cry while I was singing it.

Add to that the fact that Gina’s performance at our next acoustic rehearsal reminded us that she can sing anything… anything, and our prospects as a wedding band were looking up.

That brings us to Sunday, our weekly rock rehearsal with Zina on drums. Zina can perfect any song in three tries, and she is a wunderkind at adapting covers to our peculiar needs. Together, we crushed the list of the ten new cover songs that made it past Gina, Jake, and I on our first run-through. Yes, there is plenty to tune up, but we got through them. And…

Peter: Zina, we’re not going to try “Don’t Stop Believin’.” It was kinda terrible when we tried it acoustic.

Zina: Well, I learned it.

Peter: Why am I not surprised.

Jake: Actually, I learned it too.

Peter: I know it. I just don’t think it’s going to sound good.

Gina: Oh, hell, let’s just give it a try.

We proceeded to play a very shaky version of “Don’t Stop Believin’.” Not one I would put up in front of people. Then we tweaked a few things and played it again. It sounded almost as good as a bad bar band. We added Gina on guitar and some harmony from me and played it again…

Reverse the calendar to February. The Polyskeptic gang and I, tipsy and laughing around the table about the ridiculous covers Arcati Crisis might undertake.

Fast forward to March. We are debuting our cover of “Love Game” on stage to a packed Fergie’s Pub, and everyone is dancing.

Fast forward another month. Jake and I learned 20 new songs in three hours. We didn’t skip a single one.

Rewind four days. Gina looks over at me and smiles as I sing the high falsetto harmony to “Cosmonaut’s Wife” on stage at the Tin Angel - it’s the first time I’ve done it at a show.

Fast forward ten days. My eyes twinkle with tears as Gina and I harmonize on songs I’ve been singing my entire life. “Is it strange to dance so soon?” “Do you remember when we used to sing?” “No one’s gonna drag you up to get into the light where you belong.” Zina asks if we can try “Tonight Tonight” and we stumble through it impressively - a wall of sound, all of us singing harmony, all of us laughing every time we mess up and have to start again.

It was our third time through “Don’t Stop Believin’” when I really did start believing Arcati Crisis could be an actual wedding band.

Original Article

Newsweek: The 13 Most Useless College Majors (As Determined By Science)

shortformblog:

alittlespace:

newsweek:

1. Fine Arts

2. Drama and Theatre Arts

3. Film, Video, and Photographic Arts

4. Commercial Art and Graphic Design

5. Architecture

6. Philosophy and Religious Studies

7. English Literature and Language

8. …

A piece of Flash Fiction from some of my talented colleagues debuted yesterday on SmokeLong, a weekly and quarterly Flash Fiction anthology.

Stephen Gardner’s The Booking of La Gianconda is a noir-ish snapshot from a 1936 jail-house that could easily fit into the fictional universe of Chicago. It’s accompanied by an illustration by Throwaway Horse founding partner Josh Levitas.

[caption id=”attachment_6287” align=”alignright” width=”189” caption=”Illustration by Josh Levitas - visit smokelong.com for the full version and accompanying fiction.”][/caption]Here’s about 5% of the the total tale:

“Hey, Glass Eye,” Walters called over to me as I fiddled with the Kodak slide film. At the name, I gritted my teeth hard enough to chip an incisor. Walters never let me forget the war wound. Like I said I’m a camera guy when I’m not riding a bucket and a mop, not even a cop.

(Visit SmokeLong for the full story!)

Flash Fiction doesn’t have a formal definition, but it’s about brevity and efficiency. SmokeLong’s limit is 1,000 words. While other outlets have much shorter word-count requirements, the common element is that good FF should consist of lithe, streamlined language that puts every word to good use.

I asked Josh if his accompanying flash illustration included any self-imposed restrictions: his finished picture was done in a single sitting with limited tweaks or digital post-production - all completed in less than an hour! It’s worth viewing the larger version at SmokeLong to see some detail that’s lost at the smaller size.

Kudos to Stephen and Josh for being featured, and for their evocative 1,000 words and single-hour image!

Original Article

Ani DiFranco’s “Gravel” burst from my iPod headphones as I left the house this morning and transported me back to another place and time in my life.

It was 1997, and I was a new Ani DiFranco fan. After borrowing her tapes from my friends Andrea and Nava (yes: TAPES) I snapped up two of her remarkable trio of perfect LPs, Out of Range and Dilate, and waited with bated breath for April 22nd. That was when her new, live, double-CD Living in Clip would be released.

Living in Clip contained a bevy of older songs that were new to me, but one that no one had ever heard before outside of concerts: “Gravel.” It was the third track.

While I loved the entire double-CD, it was “Gravel” that I played again and again in wonder. This was long before YouTube and prior to Ani’s major media breakthrough with Little Plastic Castle, so I had never seen a video of her playing guitar. I was already fascinated by the sound of her songs like “Out of Range” and “Shameless.”

How did she make those sounds? I had plenty of friends who played guitar, but none of them made the sounds that came out of “Gravel.” The guitar hopped and skipped, and sometimes barked. How did she do it?

(I would learn her rapid guitar attack emerged from five Nailene brand nails duct-taped to her fingers.)

I played that record into the ground in 1997 - played it so much that both my mother and I had it memorized from front to back. We saw Ani together for the first time that summer, sitting in the rafters of The Mann Music Center, watching her open for Bob Dylan.

“Gravel” also had a more immediate effect. Less than six weeks after I first heard it I begged my mother to buy me an acoustic guitar. I think she was surprised by my sudden vehemence - while I certainly asked for things, they were usually music or books. I didn’t frequently beg for anything, aside from the ability to get online - and I quickly became a whiz at that.

She relented and bought me a guitar. Who knows what she thought I would do with it, but the night we brought it home I learned to play “Dilate” from a guitar tab (a what?), and started to slowly decipher the tab for “Gravel.” By the end of the summer I could play the song all the way through.

That’s where “Gravel” took my brain this morning - fifteen years ago, almost to the week. Half my life - a half completely changed because of my fascination with this single, amazing song.

Thank you, Mr. DiFranco.

Original Article

It can be so easy to set aside our own creativity to play in someone else’s sandbox.

You know what I mean. You’re doing it right now! You could be creating something of your own, something that’s been stuck inside your brain for seconds or years, but you are reading my words. You could be creating your own blog, but instead you are consuming someone else’s and forming opinions about it. Substitute any noun for “blog” - song, picture, novel, food.

(For the record, I’m happy that you are reading my blog. Please do it again sometime.)

The act of consumption is a falsely comforting sensation. It makes your time feel full. Maybe you even go beyond consumption, and create within someone else’s space. You leave a comment or write a review. It feels good to attach yourself to an already-established world of creativity. It’s a world that already has structure, character, mythology, and fans. There are people to interact with who care what you have to say. There are ready-made topics to discuss, spires to be built out of grains of sand.

It’s addictive, but is it memorable? What kind of memory does consuming and discussing other peoples’ songs or characters or story-telling or film-editing create?

Is it a good use of your time?

I remember when I loved to use time any way that I could. I’d burn the clock far into the night. I’d make a list of my 100 favorite songs, each meticulously graded across multiple criteria, and update it every day. That’s how I learned to use Excel! I’d write chapters upon chapters of a novel based on someone else’s video game world. People read it!

Ten or fifteen years on, I don’t have those files anymore. Not because I lost them. Because I didn’t care to keep them. They were sandcastles with beautiful, meticulous parapets, but I let them erode away. Hours or days I spent on something that wasn’t meant to last - that was never really mine to begin with.

Now I covet my time. I schedule every second of it, pitting priorities against each other to see what might yield a greater return. It’s no mistake I have recently spent four nights a week rehearsing music, and another one or two meeting with friends and business partners. We’re not meeting in some stranger’s sandbox. We’re meeting together, in a sandbox we share.

I love it. I love that life, but it can be taxing to create so often. Sometimes I fall back on old habits. Sometimes I’d rather spend my time in a universe that already exists, reading stories or discussing movies or covering songs.

It’s not a terrible thing. There has to be a balance. I’m not saying we should never consume or share our opinions about art. What a dull world that would be, deprived of other peoples’ creativity and connections! I’d never turn that down entirely. After all, I need something to crush on.

But, I need to tell you what I’m crushing on, too. I need to be inspired by it and create my own work for other people to crush on, so that they, too, can create art and memories - not from consuming it, but from being inspired by it.

As we head into the second quarter of this year, this gift of time before us, I hope for you and for myself that we spend our time wisely - that we spend it building memories out of something more lasting than sand.

Original Article

After a week of listening to Madonna’s MDNA it has cemented itself both in my brain and in the larger pantheon of Madonna LPs.

It’s not a dance album like Confessions on the Dance Floor, or a personal confession like American Life, but something just as rhythmic and confrontational as Madonna reaches her apex of electronics and outright rage. People who complain that it does not sound like Madonna may have never known what Madonna sounded like to begin with.

Now that I’m an MDNA expert in addition to a walking Madonna reference manual, here is my take on MDNA from bad to best. After much deliberation about including the Deluxe Edition songs, I decided in their favor. They’re only on a second disc because it makes physical production simpler, but they are all a part of the same work.

(If you’d like to calibrate your ratings to mine, for me 3/5 generally means I would allow a song onto my personal radio station.)

16. Gang Bang - .5/5 - Terrible

I don’t even know where to start. Five-and-a-half minutes of Madonna murmuring without consonants (like Bjork), sharing her revenge fantasies, huskily whispering, and saying “bitch” a lot has no place at track two of an album, especially when it ends with a fit of embarrassing misogynist screaming. The beats aren’t even good. Is it that any song whose writing credits read like the membership of a committee is destined to suck? Apparently if you buy the clean version of the album you don’t even have to hear this crap, which is almost worth it.

15. B-Day Song - 1.5/5 - Uneven

Really not so bad for a cutesy song potentially-improvised over what sounds like isolated elements of “Gimme All Your Luvin’.” Plus, we’re hearing a relatively clean Madonna vocal, save for reverb. I suspect this could have started as a demo for something else that turned silly over time with MIA in the studio. It might not be life-changing, but I’m still happy it’s on the LP. If it wasn’t for bonus tracks how would we ever get to hear this sort of silliness from Madonna except on tour?

14. Superstar - 2/5 - Uneven

On my first listen, I was sure this tune was the big winner on the disc. Awesomely coo-ed chorus hook? Check. Super-cute lyrics? Check. Was this song “Cherish” V2.0? If we were grading on sound only, yes! On repeat, the weakness of the lyrics really sticks out. I simply don’t dig songs rely on analogies to public figures or brands - it takes me out of the music-listening mode. Well, that’s every verse (“You’re like Abe Lincoln, ‘cause you fight for what’s right.” Really?). It’s downhill from there. Lyrics about cell phone passwords? The phrase “super-duper?

Yet, the worst offense is the hopeless devotion vibe of the song. It is beneath Madonna. I’m not saying she can’t love someone. I’ve heard both “Cherish” and “Burning Up.” I get the lyrical device of the biggest star in the world calling someone else her “Superstar.” Even if it is sweet of her to say it still comes off treacly and fake. She should have handed this one over to her daughter Lourdes, who sings backups, or perhaps Katy Perry, who has no inherent sense of of self-worth. Also, for a song with this much kick and tom, they could have used better samples of each.

Self-Reference: Madonna for once underplays potential lyrical shout-outs to “Angel” and “Get Into the Groove.”

13. Beautiful Killer - 2.5/5 - Okay

The lead-off track on the deluxe edition bonus disc is decent but ultimately forgettable, like Music’s mid-LP filler “Amazing” and “Runaway Lover.” It boasts a strong vocal (with an actual switch to head voice!), but it is disarmed by a plodding drum loop and a boring descending interval on the chorus. Still, on most Madonna LPs this wouldn’t be marooned to a bonus disc - it’s fine mid-album fare.

12. I Don’t Give A 2.5/5 - Okay

High on the list of things that the majority of the world is disinterested in hearing is Madonna’s rapping, closely followed by her discussing the ins and outs of her daily routine in song rather than in a vicious B&W documentary. Yet, here we are again.

Despite my disinterest in the elements, Madonna makes them work better here than on “American Life.” To be honest, the arrangement is kinda tight. The pseudo-rapping is less barky than past efforts and adds a lot of fun melodic shout-backs (I love “take it down a semi-tone”). The “I’m gonna be okay” chorus hook is decent, especially followed by the series of suspended-chord harmony on the next passage.

Lyrically, Madonna isn’t trying to make her life out to be too pedestrian or glamorous - just the life of one of the most famous women in the world (although, minus points for mentioning Wi-Fi and Tweeting, the latter of which she did for the first time the day the album was released). Nicki Minaj manages to deliver an enjoyably schizophrenic rap that is almost on-topic. And, the song ends with a totally weird acappella round of the words “I don’t give a fuck” reminiscent of the acappella Flight-of-Bumblebee score of Glee. In the end, I enjoy that this is the reality of being Madonna - she is always busy, she is good at everything, and she doesn’t give a damn about what you (or I) have to say about it.

11. Give Me All Your Luvin’ - 2.5/5 - Okay

As explored in my #MusicMonday about this tune, despite it being a strong lead-single it has too many casual flaws for me to like it in the long term. Specifically, the terrible plastic arrangement in place of a real rock band and half-hearted guest appearances that don’t capitalize on the skills of Nicki and MIA. Yet, it also bears a undeniable sixties girl group vibe, which I can never completely discard. I suspect this is going to rock much harder on the forthcoming tour.

Self-Reference: “Lucky Star” merits a name-drop.

10. I Fucked Up - 3/5 - Good

There is always certain schadenfreude in Madonna acknowledging her own mistakes in song, especially when it involves her being vulgar. The majority of this song is a delightfully down-tempo electronic track with earphone busting bass drum, simple acoustic guitar, actual strings, and a plaintive, accessible melody. If the track stayed there I would likely rank it higher, but there is a whole “I miss all the stuff we could have done together because we are rich” part. Surprisingly, only a line or two winds up being cringe-worthy, but the cutesy, accelerated major key arrangement is grating right up until it blossoms back into the awesome refrain. This one really deserved to be on the full disc, and it’s much less offensive than “Gang Bang.”

Self-Reference: Checks “Sorry” by apologizing in another language.

9. Masterpiece - 3/5 - Good

Madonna’s Golden Globe winning tune from her film W.E.  is a finely-constructed, mid-tempo, acoustronic ballad with lyrics that can withstand scrutiny. Plus, it bears some considerable hooks. The only minor downside is the clipped vocoder vocals behind the lead on the chorus - they would be better as organic supporting harmony. Still, this is a strong (if slightly-forgettable) ballad that might have stood a chance at an Oscar if it was eligible.

8. Falling Free - 3.5/5 - Great

At first it was hard to get a handle on this album-closing track, because there is no attack - no drums or guitar strums to orient you to the passing time. Yet, in the absence of instrumental violence, Madonna is giving this her level-best singing effort on wide, Evita-esque intervals (even if she is benefiting from a little tuning up here and there). Also, the lyrics are legitimate poetry. Part of me is sort of tickled by the idea of Madonna scribbling couplets into a journal by her bedside, but in reality many of them likely came from her cousin Joe Henry, her co-writing bro-in-law and past collaborator on “Don’t Tell Me” and “Jump.”

7. Best Friend - 3.5/5 - Good

Usually any track with those words in the title is going to be a sickly sweet mess unless it is about a dog. Yes, even if it’s by Queen. Yet, this deluxe edition R&B-via-Electronica song is actually a pretty awesome track. It would fit right in on Ace of Base’s The Sign- the synthetic misery could be perfectly tracked next to “Don’t Turn Around,” especially thanks to the faux-Reggae chorus. Unlike a lot of the other ultra-personal divorce songs on the disc, this one doesn’t have a single cringe-worthy moment. Despite a lot of tuning foolery on the vocal, there are some great moments of raw, emotional performance shining through. This one was probably only exiled for not quite fitting into the sound of the LP, which begs the question of how many other amazing genre-breaking tunes Madge has tucked away.

6. Some Girls - 3.5/5 - Great

At first I thought this was a cacophonous toss-away, another divorce-fueled, woman-hating, kiss-off. Instead, it turned out to be the reciprocal of The Rolling Stones song of the same title. Mick sings about all that girls give and take, and so does Madonna, as she watches younger coquettes circle her like pretty, blonde vultures. She dissects them one by one, half a threat, half a scolding to her lovers for their lack of caution, and at least a little self-deprecating (“Some girls make a scene, shoot their mouth and talk obscene”).

This pulsing, pounding track pulls Madonna’s voice like taffy, but keeps her recognizable and distinct. It’s like a more-awesome, more bitchy-version of a killer Britney Spears cut. I will be utterly shocked if this doesn’t see release as a club single.

Self-Reference: The creepy, pitch-shifted, asexual backing vocals call back to Madonna’s boyish intro to “Music,” and at one point say “Like a virgin, sweet and clean.” She lyrically checks “Express Yourself” with “Some girls are second best, put your luvin’ to the test.”

5. I’m A Sinner - 3.5/5 - Great

A religion-referencing retread of Austin Power’s “Beautiful Stranger”? Yes, please. Even if it’s a little derivative, this is the sort of fun, off-the-leash Madonna song that makes her albums great. I love that the highest parts of the vocal aren’t auto-tuned at all, but multi-tracked into near-intelligibility. That it screeches to a halt midway through for a Gaga-aping organ-and-Saints mid-section can be forgiven, since Madonna invented that genre and does it just as well. Also, on a track actually called “I’m a Sinner” it fits right in! The verse phrases’ melodic descent from a high point paired with the monotone musical underpinning is so reminiscent of The Beatles that it has to be intentional. (Perhaps “Love You To”? I can’t quite place it.)

Self-Reference: “Get down on your knees and pray” nods at “Like a Prayer.”

4. Girl Gone Wild - 3.5/5 - Excellent

I dissed this track when it debuted as sounding a little generic for Madonna. However, after hearing the entire album I see a lot more of her in this than I do in many of the other songs, even if she didn’t write it. It is no different than “Everybody” or “Get Into the Groove” - just let the music take you.

The octave-leaping title hook is incredibly infectious, as is Madonna’s recent signature of hiccuping remixed vocals (take that, Gaga, with your Stu-stu-stuttering). Yes, the arrangement is a little clubland generic, but that is the frame this disc is pictured within. On the whole, this helps define the divide between this LP and the R&B of Hard Candy and danceable Confessions on the Dancefloor. MDNA handily achieves both, but it’s more about falling into the synthesizers voice-first until each song becomes its own highly-addictive remix. Also, the video is ultra-hot.

Self-Reference: Intro backgrounds are incredible similar to “Get Together.” Namechecks “Bad Girl.” Starts with a call out to god, as does the Immaculate Collection remix of “Like a Prayer.” Mentions the word “Erotic.” Points off for forgetting that “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” is not actually a reference to her own music, but the mantra of her main 80s competitor.

3. Turn Up The Radio - 4/5 - Excellent

This is the proof-of-concept track on the disc. It’s youthful, but it’s still Madonna. The arrangement is a little more detailed than “Girls.” In fact, minus the modern synthesizers it could have easily appeared on her first album thanks to the “music will set you free” escapism that she established there and kept on mining for her whole career. The one down side is that the lyrics are weirdly incomplete - the mention beginning a story and approaching a glowing light, but then we only get “moth/flame” metaphors as our reward.

2. I’m Addicted - 4.5/5 - Remarkable

This track sounds stolen from La Roux’s 2009 debut in the best possible way. The arrangement, performance, and lyrics could all stand up next to her delicious “Bulletproof.” It starts with one of my favorite Madonna lyrics of all time:

When did your name change from a word to a charm?
No other sound makes the hair stand up on the back of my arm
All of the letters pushed to the front of my mouth
And saying your name is somewhere between a prayer and a shout
And I can’t get it out

Are you fucking kidding me? On a Madonna song? That lyric is amazing! Around her words a spool of arppegiated synths unfurl. They are contained to higher frequencies for over a minute, and just as you begin to wonder if this tune will ever have a proper thump they swell downward to fill up the low end. It is the best-case scenario for an entirely synthesizer-based song - it is intricately detailed and covers a wide dynamic range.

(Sadly, we can’t necessarily attribute the lyrics to Madonna, as the producer team behind this one also delivered “Girl Gone Wild, words and all.)

Self-Reference: So, would she say that when she calls your name, it’s like… a little prayer?

It’s hard to believe “I’m Addicted” didn’t nab the #1 spot from me, as it rightfully would have on either of the last two Madonna albums, but MDNA has an incredibly clear victor:

1. Love Spent - 5/5 - Unassailable

I suppose I have to take back what I said above about songs written by committee, because this song has as many songwriters as “Gang Bang,” but that is the only sentence that should ever mention them both in a single breath.

This song is amazing. One of her best ever. It starts with a banjo, of all things, and then an electronics-coated Madonna voice singing higher than her usual (maybe even in her elusive mixed register).  It gets personal right off the bat - would she be divorced (or: even married) if she wasn’t Madonna? Can anyone love her as a person separately from her bank account?

Luckily, in the midst the heavy contemplation, the song is almost all-hook - remarkable, considering how many words it has. I have found myself singing almost every section of the song on repeat under my breath this past week, not the least of which are the songs sharpest lyrics:

Hold me like your money
Tell me that you want me
Spend your love on me
Love me like your money
Spend it till there’s nothing
Spend your love on me

The song would be great even if it stopped with that as its chorus, but then it moves on to the major-key relief of the title line. It’s like a balm to the rest of the song every time it appears.

This is what I hope for from every new Madonna album - an expanded sound, a new perspective, and a clever way to express an already heavily-treaded sentiment.

Self-Reference: The “your voice / no choice” rhyme from (yet again) “Like a Prayer.” It’s a goldmine of ideas, apparently.

Original Article

It seems that the entire USA portion of the internet has Mega Millions on the brain today, which seems like a good excuse to take a break before I file my last two Madonna posts.

My grandmother had incredible luck. She won the lottery so many times I truly lost count. Not Mega Millions, clearly, or else I would be typing this to you on a laptop made of responsibly-mined diamonds. Daily pick three? Pick four? Scratch-off tickets? Slot machines? Yes, she could win at all of those games of absolute zero-strategy.

Pure luck. It was her sole income, other than Social Security. I think at one point it may have paid for a year of my private grade-school, but I could be remembering it wrong. Many comic books, at least.

I think a little of her luck was passed down to me. I have won or been picked for many things I’ve desired, against highly improbably odds. Notably, I won a guitar signed by my favorite band, Garbage, but that’s just one of many odds-defying wins I’ve had.

Whenever jackpots get very high, I always consider buying a few tickets. When people are surprised (given my typical anti-gambling stance), I explain to them that I stand a much better chance of winning than they do, because I have luck in my blood.

Original Article

Welcome to Day 2 of my personal celebration of Madonna’s twelfth studio album, MDNA! I’ve been listening to it non-stop since yesterday morning, and some early favorites are beginning to emerge … but I’ll get to that later.

For all of her indelible hit singles, it’s easy to forget that Madonna knows how to deliver a stellar deep cut. Forget the hits. Forget the late-released low-charting singles. These are twelve Madonna songs you could only know if you play her albums front to back, and they’re all good.

12. Sooner or Later from I’m Breathless

Okay, this one is cheating a little bit - because it won a freaking Oscar. Now, that’s not an Oscar for Madonna - the Best Original Song award is for the songwriter, not the performer. Thus, Stephen Sondheim took home that naked golden idol in 1991. Yet, Madonna wound up with the song - a truly award-worthy torch song that she sings the hell out of. She delivers such a credible cabaret imitation that it stops being an imitation and starts being reality. (However, when it comes to Oscar, the beautiful “What Can You Loose” duet with Mandy Patinkin might have got my vote instead.)

11. Spanish Eyes from Like a Prayer

So, you like “La Isla Bonita,” huh? Did you know Madonna has another pseudo-Latin tune played on even more organic instruments, with a super-raw, almost screamed vocal performance? Sounds like something from American Life, you say? Nay - it’s the closer from “Like a Prayer.” It’s not one of her best songs ever, but it’s a wonderful glimpse at Madonna’s version of writing a follow-up single, which is disappearing entirely into the genre she previously imitated.

10. Nobody Knows Me from American Life

Madonna disappears inside of the machine on this American Life album cut that buries her deep beneath throbbing synthesizers and enough auto-tune to make Cher’s “Believe” blush. It comes off like an over-processed remix of itself, which cleverly distracts you from the brutal lyrics, like “But why should I care what the world thinks of me? Won’t let a stranger give me a social disease.” Madonna dressed this up with more beats and stunner choreography on the Reinvention Tour, but I still prefer the sucker punch of the stark album version.

9. Devil Wouldn’t Recognize You from Hard Candy

The reason Hard Candy is my least favorite Madonna album by a thousand leagues is because it’s such a lame duck attempt to make relevant R&B when Madonna has always done just that with very little effort. The one clear success to me is this holdover from her aborted musical written with brother-in-law Joe Henry. It was previously a show-stopping ballad, but M and her producers reinvented it as an awesome R&B radio-ready kiss-off that Rihanna could have taken to platinum hit status.

8. Candy Perfume Girl from Ray of Light

One of Madonna’s best rock songs, this Ray of Light cut is what she chose to feature her first guitar-shredding solo on the Drowned World tour. On the record it’s more subdued, the primal two-chord guitar riff interpolated so far into a thrumming, hypnotic drum loop that it’s impossible to untangle the two. The mess of inane-yet-meaningful lyrics that may have been cribbed from a magnetic poetry set just makes it more punk ;)

7. X-Static Process from American Life

One acoustic guitar sample. One chunky, vintage-sounding synth lead line. Two or three Madonnas, all singing plaintively with absolutely zero processing to obscure her voice. It’s one of the most arresting songs in her entire repertoire. If this is what Madonna demos sound like, I look forward to a whole thousand dollar boxed set of them to commemorate her 80th birthday.

6. More from I’m Breathless

Maybe you’ve heard this - Madonna sings some of it onscreen in Dick Tracy. But have you really listened? This is Madonna nailing infectious, intricate Sondheim lyrical pitter-patter with the help of a beautifully restrained big band arrangement and crisp, live production from Bill Botrell (a Michael Jackson producer who later won a Grammy for Sheryl Crow’s debut). This will always be one of my favorite show-tunes, and it’s not even from a real Broadway show!

5. I Know It from Madonna

First of all, ever since the 80s the horn intro to this song has always reminded me of the sea stage of the first Super Mario game on GameBoy. Wow, I’ve been waiting forever to get that off my chest! In other news, only three songs from Madonna didn’t chart, and “Physical Attraction” later got a popular remix on You Can Dance. That makes “I Know It” one of the two deepest of all deep cuts in Madonna’s catalog, and it’s a good one. The song combines cheerful, bouncy, major key verses, a commanding chorus, and a weirdly chromatic bridge. Plus, it features direct Madonna-on-Madonna harmony - always a pleasure. PS: I’ve covered this song.

4. I’m So Stupid from American Life

Dear lord, how did this not wind up as a single off of the unfairly-maligned American Life? I’ll never understand. The catchy, self-deprecating tune is one of the few on the album that could get asses shaking without a remix. I love the offensive, buzzsaw synths and guitars, and it’s got some great vocal passages. Check out a Chewbacca-esque back-of-throat howl on “adding up to nothing.”

3. Gone from Music

Let’s face it - I am a sucker for when Madonna goes organic - and I’m not talking about her diet. This simple construction of strummed guitar and a slowly spun R&B beat is the queen of Madonna’s post-2000 “determination ballads,” where she gets a little down on herself for a second but then vows to never give up. It toes the line between folk ballad and R&B slow jam, later adding some wheezing synth lines to the mix to confuse things. Also, it is the first (and, thus far, only) Madonna song ever covered by Arcati Crisis - right here on this blog! And, Gina was the one to suggest it. Fun fact: Madonna performed this live on the European leg of her Drowned World tour, but frequently substituted minor hit “You’ll See” in America.

2. Shoo-Bee-Doo from Like a Virgin

Another super-deep cut - one of only two songs on Like a Virgin not to see release as a single. I’ve always loved this song, ever since I used to dance around the house to it when it was the B-side of the “Dress You Up” vinyl. It’s one of Madonna’s rare solo writing credits, and one of her most organic productions of all time. The arrangement is pretty much just live drums, a simple keyboard part, and a hot saxophone solo. Take that, Lady Gaga - Madge beat you to that second album sonic shake-up by almost thirty years. But, more than that, it’s one of the songs that shows the clear through-line from Madonna to the pureness of 60s girl groups and doo wop - without being a retro piece like “True Blue” or a modern reimagining like “Gimme Me All Your Luvin’.”

1. Love Song from Like a Prayer

Wouldn’t it be cool if we could lock Madonna and Prince in a room, circa 1988, and listen to the results? Well, guess what? THAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED. I cannot even quantify how obsessed I was with this song as a nine-year-old. It was a pop music crossover, like Wonder Woman fighting alongside… well, the Joker, so let’s put that metaphor down for a second. This song is an ultra-weird collage of sounds and vocals and murmured phrases in French with no real chords or structure, and Madonna would pilfer little bits of it again and again (including lyrics for the hook for “Hung Up.”). It must be heard to be believed.

That’s my list of favorite unknown Madonna songs! How many of them have you heard before? And, what’s your favorite Madonna deep cut that doesn’t appear on the list?

Original Article