
The
Worley Gig:
Music and Mayhem in New York City
by
Gail Worley
It's
the End of the Year as We Know it and I Feel Fine
December
1998
As I sit writing this, Beck's'
recent stunner, Mutations, spins round and
round in the disc player. I've read a few reviews of Mutations
that call it "Controversial." Give me a
fucking break. Mutations is Beck focusing on
song-based pop music in the same vein as solo efforts
by George Harrison and John Lennon. It's a brilliant
record, but if this is controversial then -- if I may
paraphrase Kurt Vonnegut -- my ass chews gum. Writing
about music didn't used to be so complicated. This
year especially, I've noticed just the simple act of
writing a 200 word CD review feels increasingly like
homework, like something I have to study for. Like my
opinion isn't valid unless it's shared by a
credentialed group of my peers. I guess the problem
stems from the escalating fragmentation of rock
music, which has made it impossible to know what's
going on and almost as impossible to care. If I
didn't love music with such a fervent passion, I'd
throw in the towel right now.
You
Can't Polish A...
I don't have to finish that sentence, you know how it
goes. There are distinctive kinds and varying degrees
of crap floating around out there in the guise of
music, circling the drain, refusing to be sucked
down. There's crap that just plain blows chunks and
deserves to be ignored completely, based on a total
lack of value. Then there's the really heinous crap,
which must be reviled in the press because someone
was trying to get away with something, and that just
cannot be allowed to slide. Robert Van Winkle (A.K.A.
Vanilla Ice)
made his second attempt at a come back this year with
a hardcore-rap hybrid called Hard To Swallow.
This album sucked even worse than the first Korn
album, if that is possible. End of story. Is Vanilla
Ice worth hating? Hardly. He doesn't pretend to have
anything to say, he's just trying to make a living. I
can respect that. Van Winkle is a good looking guy
who should become a Calvin Klein model and rake in
the bucks while he still has a pretty face, because
he has no musical talent whatsoever. His music is
awful, but I wouldn't kick him out of bed for eating
crackers.
Vanilla Ice is just an obvious example. There are
still other popular musical phenomena that remain
unfathomable to me. Is there an original riff or
lyric anywhere on Garbage's Version 2.0? How does Elliott Smith - who looks
like he has never, ever, owned a comb -- become an
overnight sensation? Is there an existent form of
medieval torture more difficult to endure than
sitting all the way through the new Alec Empire CD?
Is it possible to name a more retarded song released
in 1998 than Harvey Danger's "Flagpole Sitta"? That's
what I thought.
I'm not one to trash a band based on hype alone or
because their music is associated with a movement or
genre I don't care for. I'm not much into electronica
or techno music, but that new Fatboy Slim record is
pretty rad. Generally, I make an effort to understand
why people who possess musical tastes different than
my own like what they do. There are, however, a few
trespassers who need to be called on the carpet right
now.
I closed the book on my appreciation of Marilyn
Manson's music after 1995's Smells Like Children,
but I continue to follow his career and write about him, as I find Manson to be a shining
example of the Emperor's New Clothes phenomena.
Manson is the biggest no talent, bullshit artist on
the planet. His whole act is a parody of an imitation
of a facade. Manson's newest piece of crap, Mechanical
Animals, is a Diamond Dogs-era David Bowie
rip-off with not a hint of originality or artistic
inspiration in the offing. While playing Mechanical
Animals on my stereo for the first time, I
noticed the appearance of a bad odor in my apartment.
At first I thought I needed to take the garbage out,
but then I realized it was this CD: it stinks.
And sometimes the Prozac just isn't working. Stabbing
Westward's Darkest Days, their third (and
probably last) major label release, is a mire of
singer/songwriter, Christopher Hall's depression and
self-doubt. Hall really needs to get a grip, get over
his ex-girlfriend and move on with his life. Two
records crammed with bleatings about how much she
fucked up his head is more than enough: three is just
pathetic. What strikes me as funny is how offended
Hall used to get at the suggestion his music was
derivative of Nine Inch Nails. Look where Stabbing
Westward's popularity is now, and look at Nine Inch
Nails' total loss of grip on the industrial vanguard.
Ha ha.
Tied for the position of this year's top Misery
Magnets are Alanis Morrisette and Courtney Love; two
artists who, like a yeast infection, are annoying as
Hell and hard to get rid of. Morrisette's wretched
debut, Jagged Little Pill, sold gazillions
of copies. This is almost inconceivable to me, not
only because the record was hideous and unlistenable,
but because every song was played out on the radio
and MTV until there was no reason to buy the record,
ever. I can feel the bile rising in my throat as I
recall Morrisette's first hit, "You Oughtta
Know," a contentious wail of a woman scorned
that would have anyone rooting for the boyfriend who
dumped her. Three years after this premier assault on
my artistic sensibilities, Morrisette got a make-over
and released her follow up, Supposed Former
Infatuation Junkie. The title alone reads like
some kind of pretentious tongue twister. "Thank
You," the first single, presents a litany of
Morrisette's emotional dysfunctions. Adding insult to
injury, the video portrays a nude Morrisette
strolling through downtown Manhattan with her naughty
bits air-brushed out. Huh?
Courtney Love takes the term "star fucker"
to a whole new level of absurdity. Live Through
This may have been one of 1994's best albums,
but let's not even pretend not to know that all the
songs were written by Love's then-husband, Kurt
Cobain. Why else would it take anyone who is
supposedly so "Cutting edge" and
authentically damaged four years to make a record?
Hole's 1998 follow-up, Celebrity Skin,
reveals once and for all that Love has nothing to say
and one of rock music's most grating voices. The
woman couldn't sing on key if you dangled a Barbara
Walters special in her face. This is not to say that,
like Vanilla Ice, Love is not possessed of marketable
skills. In The People Versus Larry Flint,
she demonstrated a natural talent for acting when
cast in the role of a heroin addict porn freak or
similar gold-digging trash. We all feel Kurt Cobain's
loss and I'm really very sorry Love has to raise
their child alone and find someone else to ghost
write her music for her. But sympathy is not reason
enough to bankroll the career of a glorified groupie
poser.
It's bad enough to be forced to witness the squalid
drama of these artists' lives played out in public
forums. It's downright loathsome to be asked to pay
for it.
With that out of the way, let's move on to more
pleasant things.
Top
Twelve Albums of 1998, According to Me
I don't like to think of myself as a rock critic but,
rather, as a fan of music who writes about her
particular tastes. As the late Rick Nelson sang,
"You can't please everyone, so you've got to
please yourself." I don't claim to have heard
everything that's out there and, since certain labels
don't send me records, those rosters lack a presence
on my list. Notice the glaring absence of Liz Phair,
John Spencer Blues Explosion and Belle &
Sebastian, and understand this doesn't negate their
great value or appeal. It just means I didn't get the
record, so I wrote about something I did get and
liked.
For what it's worth, here are a dozen of the
records I liked in 1998.
1. VAST, Visual Audio Sensory Theatre
Probably the only commercially viable
gothic/industrial record released in 1998 (think Nine
Inch Nails meets Enigma), even if it wasn't
commercially successful. Conceived and executed by 21
year old John Crosby, VAST is the record Trent Reznor
should have made three years ago. If Elektra would
just take their focus off Metallica for two seconds
and give VAST a little kick in the right direction,
this act could bankroll their entire staff into the
new millennium. Visual Audio Sensory Theatre
is The Downward Spiral of 1998.
2. Gomez, Bring It On
Brit Pop Meets Crosby, Stills & Nash. Call it
this year's OK Computer.
3. Libido, Killing Some Dead Time
Bluntly put, Libido are Norway's answer to Oasis.
4. Jack Drag,
Dope Box
Just between you and me and the wall, I love Jack
Drag to death. The ballad, "Tall Buildings"
has the potential to be a number-one hit that could
propel this psychedelic pop trio from Boston to
international superstardom. Jack Drag are the best
neo-hippy band since the HooDoo Guru's. Turn on, tune
in, trip out.
5. Mercury Rev, Deserter's Songs
This freaky pop record sounds like the characters
from Alice In Wonderland got together and
recorded the soundtrack for a trip through the
looking glass. Jaw-dropping gorgeousness from start
to finish.
6. Posies, Success
The greatest tragedy of the year: The Posies break up
and yet Hootie & The Blowfish live on. This
record is amazing beyond words. Just go buy it right
now. While you've got your wallet out, buy the rest
of their catalog, too. You'll thank me in the
morning.
7. Bernard Butler, People Move On
A big breath of fresh air in the midst of heaping
piles of self-indulgent rubbish, the debut from this
ex-London Suede guitarist supports his musical
virtuosity in the framework of memorable songs about
love and self-discovery. Bernard Butler is the new
Neil Young, but with better personal hygiene habits.
8. Velvet Goldmine Soundtrack
The best rock musical since Tommy has a soundtrack
that blows my mind every time I play it. Jonathan
Rhys Meyers spot-on interpretation of "Baby's On
Fire" had Brain Eno himself freaking out. Any
disc that features Placebo covering T-Rex alongside
original classics by Gary Glitter and Roxy Music
deserves a place in your collection. Don't forget to
see the movie, twice.
9. Sloan, Navy Blues
Why Sloan aren't on the cover of every teen magazine
is a mystery to me. These boys are cute as hell and
talented to boot. If this was 1965, Sloan would be
giving the Beatles a run for the money. Navy
Blues could still be a huge, runaway hit. Tell
me it's not too late.
10. Angelique, Present
Angelique might be goth's answer to Cheryl Crow if
Present were a genre work. Rather, her startling
debut is a well-toned body of dreamy rock
incorporating elements of industrial dance,
electronica and hip hop. This year's most original
and ground-breaking effort by a female solo artist.
11. Monster Magnet, Powertrip
If I were to compile a list of the sexiest men in
rock, Dave Wyndorf would surely snag a top spot on
that list for his sheer ballsiness alone. On the
title cut, Wyndorf declares "I'm never gonna
work another day in my life," and there's no
reason why he should. Wyndorf should just be paid to
be the fucking rock and roll genius that he is. The
Worley Gig votes Powertrip the best hard
rock/metal album of the year.
12. 12 Rounds, My Big Hero
Trent Reznor's only meaningful contribution to music
in 1998 was signing this British experimental gothic
lounge act to his Nothing Records label. 12 Rounds
make music that is dark, disturbing, beautiful and
difficult if not impossible to shake off. My vote for
1998's most original debut.
That wraps up another rewarding year of writing The Worley
Gig and I
want to thank everyone reading this for your support
and encouragement. Best wishes for a great holiday, a
bright 1999, and remember, "If you're not the
lead dog, the view never changes."
The
Worley Gig
regularly turns in both Pandemonium
Online and The NY Hangover.
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Worley Gig Mailing List, just send
Gail an Email
Other Features
From Gail Worley:
Goo Goo
Dolls: Prepare to Get Dizzy - Gail
talks to
Robby Takac about City of Angels, hits in the five formats,
crap music and what chicks dig.
Nivek
Ogre's New Rx - No longer a Skinny
Puppy, this famed industrialist dispenses Ritalin
now.
Visual
Audio Sensory Theatre - Gail discusses
religion and revenge fantasies with Jon
Crosby, the aspiring Gothman with a VAST array
of sounds...
Dream
Punk or Noise Pop? - Gail goes to South
Park and Melrose Place with Carrie
Clark, art therapist and feedback diva from 16
Deluxe
God
Lives Underwater - "With a name like God
Lives Underwater, it has to be good," says Gail
Vintage
Jello Biafra - Gail's 1996
interview with the former Dead
Kennedy
Previous turns
of The Worley Gig:
The
Worley Gig #1--
Summer, The Rules
The
Worley Gig #2-- All Tomorrow's Parties
The
Worley Gig #3-- Weaselfest '97
The
Worley Gig #4-- How I Spent Summer
The
Worley Gig #5-- Random Excerpts From My Ass-Kicking
Life
The
Worley Gig #6-- Christmas Kicks Total Ass
The
Worley Gig #7-- She's About A Mover
The
Worley Gig #8-- The Goddess and Pig Watts
The
Worley Gig #9-- Outrageously Boss Records and What
Not to Do On a Date
The
Worley Gig #10-- Marilyn Manson: The Satanist in
Winter
The
Worley Gig #11-- A Mosquito, My Libido
The
Worley Gig #12-- Sex By SexWest 1998
The
Worley Gig #13-- I'm Only Numan
The
Worley Gig #14-- Marilyn Manson, Bauhaus Reissues
The
Worley Gig #15-- The Column of the Daves
The
Worley Gig #16-- A Girl's Gotta Make a Living
The
Worley Gig #17-- Intel Me Everything
The
Worley Gig #18-- Crushed Velvet
The
Worley Gig #19-- Bauhaus Live, Gail Out West
The
Worley Gig #20-- Two Motley Crue Cherries Broken
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