William Faulkner once said “…music is the easiest means in which to express, but since words are my talent, I must try to express clumsily in words what the pure music would have done better.” So it is with this in mind, many a failed band behind me that I must try to do the same. So begins this weekly column.
The question then becomes where do I begin? How do I write about music to a diverse group of eclectic people known as “college kids?” I could probably start by telling you my Top Ten Records of all time, which may surprise some when Led Zeppelin does not make the cut but The Jam certainly does. That, however, would just sound like I was telling the reader what I felt was better music than what they were listening to. Truth be told, all music is good and comes in different flavors, but some flavors taste better to some and not to others. I like strawberry frosted donuts but I hate coconut, that does not mean coconut flavored donuts are bad, I just prefer not to eat them.
I was driving around my town listening to Vampire Weekend’s self-titled album thinking about perhaps writing my column about them this week. They had made the cover of Spin Magazine and Rolling Stone basically confirmed them as the next “it” band. I noticed the local Hollywood Video store was closing down. As I drove by I saw that they were selling all their DVDs for 75% off. I am a film junkie and I could see this would give me my fix. It should be known I do have a NetFlix account with a queue that never stays dormant for long. I found a film called “Winter Passing” starring Ed Harris, Will Ferrell, and Zooey Deschanel. I bought the film because I liked the premise and I have a school boy crush on Ms. Deschanel. It hit me then, somewhere in the back of my subconscious, that Ms. Deschanel was releasing an album. It was one of those word of mouth type deals that struck me as interesting. I had always somehow thought that if anyone could rival Jenny Lewis of Riley Kiley to front an indie-rock band, it would clearly be Zooey Deschanel.
When I returned to my place I did some research to find out if this information was fact and not fiction. Lucky me, the story checks out. Not only did Deschanel go into a studio, she entered the studio with one-man band and producer M. Ward. Appropriately calling themselves She & Him, Deschanel and Ward create a musical vibe that is enticing. Deschanel’s voice has a tone that made me think of girl bands of the ’60s. The sound was something like The Ronettes but with a tinge of Rilo Kiley’s craftsmanship.This had me thinking about actors who are musicians and vice versa, do we accept them? Will Smith was able to do it once upon a time. Who didn’t listen to “Miami” in 1998? Beyonce has as well and Britney Spears, well we know how that has worked out. Eddie Murphy’s “Party All the Time” was a hit too, though now it is more laughable. That is when I remembered that another Hollywood beauty was rumored to be recording.
Scarlett Johansson can do no wrong in my book. When I heard she was recording an album of Tom Waits covers I was excited but skeptical. When I did some research online I found the only source for the information to be Fox News. Great. Basically I decided this was a lie or at least an exaggeration of the truth given the source of the information. Slowly but surely though, I discovered it was in fact true. Pitchfork Media confirmed it for me, though they themselves were skeptical about the Fox News source but seemed to have more details on the situation.
After this excitement I sat back and took stock of this information. Not only did Johansson and Deschanel, more so the latter, reign as independent film star dreams to young hipster boys on Mission Hill in Boston, but now they were becoming mega stars of their sub-culture. This, I determined, was worse than imagined. I don’t want MY quiet and artistic troubled indie-film girl pilfered by a nation of men who want quiet and artistic troubled indie-film girls. It was robbery.
The sad truth is, this is just another case of exploiting a sub-culture to turn a profit. It was like being a punk on Gilman street in California as Green Day’s 1994 record “Dookie” was released and suddenly nose rings, Doc Martens and blue hair was cool. Tragedy of tragedies. Regardless of my feelings about watching the media commercialize and create stars who are more real (the inevitable backlash of Britney-mania, similar to what Nirvana did to hair-metal) I have accepted the situation. Without the rise of sub-cultures in all their glory we can never really move on to new things. Whether it is art, music, or literature we need the bad to achieve the good regardless if coconuts taste bad.