Do you know who sucks? College graduates. And people who speak French. Do you know who’s really lonely and probably going to drink too much? That educated woman over there. Do you know has no idea how to be a decent person because she’s obviously too wealthy and well-dressed to understand religion and tradition? Any character played by Angela Bassett.

But do you know who’s amazing? Anyone who is the opposite of those people. They’re salt-of-the-earth, you see, and by sprinkling their simple wisdom like so many jimmies on a cupcake, they’re going redeem those pole-up-the-ass successful types.

I’ve known these things for years, of course, because I’ve been fortunate enough to live in a culture where the dominant narratives focus on succeeding, but not succeeding too much; on working hard but not working too hard; on moving up to a deluxe apartment in the sky, but feeling really guilty about it. I’ve been inundated with movies, plays, books, and television shows that remind me that once I actually achieve the purported American dream of becoming independently successful and educated, I will lose touch with what makes me a good person. To counteract that, I’d better find “primitive” angel—you know, someone who works in a mine, or is four years old, or is from a foreign country that isn’t in Europe. That angel will teach me so much! And I won’t have to, like, give my money away, and my angel won’t get sophisticated on me like some above-his-raising jerk, but everyone will feel so damned good that we’ll  eat together at a shitty hot dog stand and feel like royalty.

I love these stories, because they spare me from icky thoughts about how economic status and educational history don’t actually dictate a person’s character. I mean… can you imagine? What if poor people could be assholes, or successful businesswomen also had the capacity for joy? Chaos! That’s why I hated David Lindsay-Abaire’s new Broadway play Good People, in which Frances McDormand plays a desperately poor woman from south Boston who tries to manipulate a kid from the neighborhood who went and got rich. In that play, everyone had moments of grace and moments of treachery… wisdom came from all quarters, and so did douchebaggery. It was so complex and layered, and it made me mad!

Thank God there are two movies coming out this spring that promise to make things authentically simple again. At least, that’s the promise their trailers make, and the movies had better live up to the trailers, by God!

[Read more →]

By DOUG STRASSLER

The news of the long-ailing Elizabeth Taylor’s passing – of congestive heart failure, at the age of 79 – has been met with the de rigueur amount of tributes and retrospectives. But none of these looks back has carried the full weight of this loss. Her death, following the 2008 loss of Paul Newman, symbolizes the very last vestige of Hollywood’s Golden Age.

In the first half of the century, movies transformed from a mere scientific experiment to a novel new art form to one of the world’s great exports. Movie stars became this country’s royalty, and, rightly or wrongly, were treated as such. And during this time, Taylor rose from homegrown princess to reigning queen.

[Read more →]

Welcome to last installment of Wife Watch!, the blog post that will name, once and for all, the most powerful wife on Big Love.

—

So here we are. The end of the road. My journey with Big Love has been bumpy, but now that the car has stopped and I know we’re not going to hit a guardrail, I’m glad I went on the ride. There were problems, yes, and fights, but all in all, the show was always engrossing. If nothing else, it demanded a response, which is more than I can say for most of the stuff on TV.

My whole fractious relationship with this series is crystallized right here in the final episode, “Where Men and Mountains Meet.” Let’s work backwards from the final image, since the ending is always so important to understanding the middle and the beginning.
[Read more →]

Fifteen years ago this week, Alanis Morissette’s Jagged Little Pill became the country’s best selling album for the third time. It would hold that position for twelve non-consecutive weeks between October 1995 and September 1996. If you follow music charts, then you know it’s crazy for album to be number one over the span of a year. But then again, JLP was the best-selling album of the 90s (13.5 million copies) and is currently the third best-selling album of the last twenty years (14.6 million copies, behind Metallica’s black album and Shania Twain’s Come On Over). It wasn’t just a collection of songs. It was a phenomenon…

… especially if you were in high school back then, like Roommate Joe and I were. At the time, we both loved that record. We ate it for angsty breakfast and slept with it for angsty naptime.

Recently, however, we realized that neither of us had listened to that once-beloved record in a very long time. We wondered, “How does it hold up today? Can the songs survive outside the heat of Alanis Fever?”

Crusaders that we are, we decided to find out. Join as we re-listen to, review, and rate every song on the album (including the hidden tracks!) What are your memories? What are your reactions now? Share them all!

I’ll post the first half of Jagged Little Pill here. To read about the second half, head over to Joe’s blog, Low Resolution.

[Read more →]

By DOUG STRASSLER

There must be a small school of fans hopelessly devoted to Fiona Shaw, the consummate actress probably best known for playing Harry Potter’s cruel aunt Petunia Dursley. But a performer this seasoned and versatile deserves an even broader fan base, which is why today I write in praise of her.

[Read more →]

Alright people… are you ready for some great new hits, including spell-along pop, catchy alt-rock, and a healthy dose of consciousness-raising hip-hop?

Me too!

[Read more →]

Welcome to Wife Watch!, the only blog post that ranks the most powerful wives on this week’s episode of Big Love.

—

So here we are at “Exorcism,” the penultimate episode of the entire series. As we begin our journey through its twisting halls, I’d like to ask you a hypothetical question…

If you were walking through your backyard and saw a distraught teenager burning all her books on a barbecue grill while sobbing that she was useless, would you run upstairs to check on her mom? Or would you, I don’t know, stay with the girl before she burned down the house or decided she had a taste for barbecued housecat?
[Read more →]

Do you guys know The Dropkick Murphys? They are, improbably, an Irish/Celtic punk/hardcore band from Massachusetts. That’s like saying a platypus is a duck plus a beaver plus and otter: Those words should never be able to describe the same entity, yet they do.

But anyway… I have known of the band for several years, but I didn’t listen to their music until last week, when their latest album Going Out In Style debuted in the top ten. Intrigued that they’d found such a large audience, I decided to check them out. And then I was reminded where I draw the line between “gruff beauty” and “horrible noise.”

On the side of gruff beauty, there’s the song “Peg o’ My Heart:”

Is this a big, noisy party? Yes. Is the singing pretty? No. Is there a lot of shouting? Yes. And yet… it’s great. There’s just enough skill in the singing and just enough melody in the instrumentation to shape the chaos. The chorus, which is ebulliently shouted by what sounds like forty drunk dudes, has a quickly accessible structure that makes it easy to sing along while the drums make you bounce.

In other words… there’s old-fashioned music inside the cacophany. And I do mean old-fashioned, since “Peg o’ My Heart” was written in 1913. Plus, Bruce Springsteen provides a guest vocal, and he’s a great rock singer, which just adds to the tuneful fun.

On the other hand, there’s this, the title song from the album:

Sonically, it’s awfully close to “Peg O’ My Heart,” but somehow… I can’t. There’s still a melody there, a recognizable structure, yet there’s a little too much screaming, a little too much noise laid atop the song. Every time I think I like it, it gets too ugly for me. I’m left appreciating its careening, rock-and-roll energy and its blend of sharp songwriting with boozy fun, but I can’t enjoy it.

A personal taste thing, I know, but I’m wondering… what’s your dividing line between music and noise?

By DOUG STRASSLER

Every now and then I do a little mental math that makes me realize just how old I really am. For example, Achtung Baby came out two decades ago now. And it was seventeen years ago that The Arsenio Hall Show went off the air. That means that someone who was born as Arsenio gave his last fist pump is now about to graduate high school (we hope).

Holy cow.

Recently I was thinking about one of my all-time favorite ‘80s movies, as I do, when I pulled that same old subtraction and gasped. The movie Just One of the Guys is now more than a quarter of a century old. WTF?!?

[Read more →]

If you’ve listened to pop music in the last fourteen years, then you’ve heard dozens of songs written and/or produced by Max Martin. And you’ve probably loved them.

A Swede who launched his global career in 1997 by co-writing and producing Robyn’s “Show Me Love” and “(Do You Know) What It Takes,” Martin has since delivered over thirty top-ten hits in the United States alone. His credits include future classics like “I Want It That Way” by Backstreet Boys, “…Baby One More Time” by Britney Spears, “Since U Been Gone” by Kelly Clarkson, “So What” by Pink, and “I Kissed a Girl” by Katy Perry.

This week Martin has outdone even himself. He has written or produced ten songs in the top fifty. Ten. With the possible exception of  George Martin (who worked with the Beatles and several other 60s hitmakers), I can’t think of any writer and/or producer who has so dominated the sound of popular music. Even at their peaks, Timbaland, Babyface,  The Neptunes, and songwriter Diane Warren didn’t created a fifth of the most popular songs in the country.

Even more impressive, Martin is just as hot in 2011 as he was in 1997. For almost fifteen years, he’s been one of the primary architects of  pop music, pushing us toward swirly beats, shoutalong choruses, and rich instrumental tracks. (Compare “Since U Been Gone” to the minimal stutter of “Milkshake” or the frikky-freak looping of “4 Minutes,” and you’ll hear Martin’s distinct contributions to the national playlist)

But for all his signatures, Martin’s mutability has been crucial to his success. He has worked with a series of behind-the-scenes collaborators (Dr. Luke, Rami, etc.) and often co-writes with artists themselves. The typical results are songs that feel connected to Martin’s legacy but also suit the personality of the artist they were written for. Pink’s “Who Knew,” for instance, blends his hooky melodies with her bruised lyrics and rock vibe. Katy Perry’s “Hot ‘n Cold” blends his swirling synth tracks with her in-your-face aggression. Being a consistent chameleon helps you evolve with pop music and helps pop music evolve with you.

I’m not sure why I’m so fascinated by Martin… but I really am. I think it’s got something to do with his anonymity. To my ears, the man is a genius, yet he’s practically unknown. Until I found the picture in this post, I didn’t even know what he looked like. (Sidebar: He cute.) In the world of pop music, where the branded image is sometimes more important than the product being sold, this makes him like a black rhino or a unicorn.

Do you have any thoughts in his staying power? On his track record? Follow that link up there and look at all the songs he’s crafted. I’d love to know your response.

And then peep this list of the ten songs he’s currently got charting in the top 50 of the Hot 100. I love some of them and hate some of them, but on the whole, I have enormous respect for the man who helped create them.

The Current Hot 100 Hits Written and/or Produced By Max Martin

[Read more →]