ladymisskirroyale

ladymisskirroyale

Nov 052013
 

I had an unfortunate experience on Monday morning. I’m sure it was exacerbated by driving to work in heavy traffic, and thanks to Daylight Savings, right into the sun. I was tired, I was cranky. And I made the mistake of listening to The Lumineers. A colleague lent it to me, and stupid me, trying to be open-minded about new music these days, decided to give it a listen.

I made it through about two thirds of the album before switching it off. I had to put on the Mamas and the Papas to get the bad sound out of my ears (tangent: “Shooting Star” is such a goofy and weird track that it always puts me in a good mood).

But back to The Lumineers. This band is the epitome of many things I am hating about a current trend in popular music. What is that plinky-plonky sound? Oh, it’s the arrangement of multiple acoustic instruments. What is that echo? Perhaps it’s to make us think that that wash tub bass is being played and recorded in a barn. What is that horrible whining sound? Yessirree folks, it’s the nasally, earnest voice of the lead singer.

And then I looked at a video:

You don’t want to hear their cover of “This Must Be the Place (Naive Melody).”

Monday evening, Mr. Royale listened to my rant and came up with an interesting analogy: The Lumineers are like Haircut One Hundred. Instead of artfully-draped sweaters, we have suspenders. No more classic haircuts; we’ve moved on to facial scruff. Created for style; substance is of limited value. The recipe has been changed up, but the intent is the same.

But my question to you is How did we get here? Why is faux folk played on acoustic instruments by bands most likely from an urban hub so popular now? Is this Retro Retromania? Don’t tell me that Fleet Foxes started it. Say what you like about their beards, but those bad boys can sing. Was the start of this evil trend Arcade Fire, the band that tried to temper their bombast by telling everyone that at least the recording was made in an old church? I really liked that first album of theirs, but I’m guessing that if I listened to it now, I might feel differently. Help me, and please explain what happened.

And you can not tell me the answer is menopause.

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Oct 222013
 

guy

We’ve discussed the importance of a band’s LOOK. There are the Winners. And there are the Losers:

http://usedwigs.com/nolikey/

Granted, we can’t all be fetching, but we can choose our art director carefully. Let those photos serve as cautionary images for The Bearded Set, The Wee Precious Ones, Those With Suspenders, or Anyone Playing a Mandolin.

While it’s easy to scoff at many of these photos (and laugh at the captions), is it easier to determine what makes a GOOD band photo?

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Oct 152013
 

Let’s review the ground rules here. The Mystery Date song is not necessarily something I believe to be good. So feel free to rip it or praise it. Rather the song is something of interest due to the artist, influences, time period… Your job is to decipher as much as you can about the artist without research. Who do you think it is? Or, Who do you think it sounds like? When do you think it was recorded? Etc…

If you know who it is, don’t spoil it for the rest. Anyone who knows it can play the “mockcarr option.” (And I’ve got a hunch at least one of you know this one.) This option is for those of you who just can’t hold your tongue and must let everyone know just how in-the-know you are by calling it. So if you know who it is and want everyone else to know that you know, email Mr. Moderator at mrmoderator [at] rocktownhall [dot] com. If correct we will post how brilliant you are in the Comments section.

The real test of strength though is to guess as close as possible without knowing. Ready, steady, go!

Mystery Date 101513

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Sep 172013
 

Years ago, when I was a college radio dj, some of the dance-oriented djs used to pull a mixing trick at the end of a track: while the record was playing, they would dramatically slow down the rpm and use that to seque to another song with the same or similar bpm. Or, to really make a point, they would slow the song down and just stop the record playing all together. I thought it was a pretty cool trick.

Fast forward to a few weeks ago, when I’m stuck in traffic driving across the Golden Gate Bridge, and just as the traffic starts to clear, New Order‘s “5 8 6” comes on my cd player. I had always liked New Order, but knew their singles better than their entire albums. So there I was listening to Power, Corruption and Lies, enjoying the car’s acceleration but also noticing that the 1983 track reflected the same Slow Slow Music technique that I had always associated with djs in the 90’s. (If you’re not a New Order fan, fast forward to around 7:05.)

But wait! There’s the technique again, this time as part of Joy Division‘s 1979 “Transmission.” (The technique is pretty obvious on this live version, even if John Cooper Clark talks over some of it.)

Is there a name for this Slow Slower Slowest Music technique? Were Joy Division inspired by some Kraut Rock or Kraftwerk number that I’m not aware of? Can you find other, earlier documented uses of this Slow Music fade out?

I look forward to the elucidation.

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Aug 292013
 

I’ve been a bit inactive in The Hall recently because I’ve started a new job. At the start of August, I began working in a Silicon Valley school district. I’ve been spending long days learning new procedures, protocols, and acronyms; I’ve been spending eternally-seeming hours sitting in the car on the commute home. (Guy in Trader Joe’s: “Where did you get that tan?” Me: “From sticking my arm out the window on the drive home.”)

AND I’ve been meeting lots of new people. I would really, really, really like to shorten this establishment phase and just cut to whether I’m going to like/get along with you or not. Sure, there are indicators such as temperament, vocation, mood, interest inventories and personality scales. But music has typically served as the quickest and most reliable indicator of whether a colleague and I will be compatible.

But how can I subtly find out about my co-workers’ musical tastes? I don’t know them well enough to start nosing around their offices and looking for their music collections. I’m not going to start wearing my band t-shirts to work just yet (even if everyone rides their bikes to work around here). We haven’t started to have those lunchroom chats quite yet, and work happy hour get-togethers are probably a few weeks away.

Today, though, I was offered a first glimpse into one colleague’s musical psyche. He gave me a lift to the District Office, as my car was in the shop. His young children had been playing with his CDs and had left them scattered all over the front seat. As I sat down, I scooped them up and casually flipped through them. Here are a few of what I saw:

  • The Beatles – Rubber Soul
  • Michael Jackson – One
  • The Darkness – Hot Cakes
  • No Doubt – Icon
  • The Clash – Singles Collection
  • Tim Armstrong – A Poet’s Life
  • Mad Caddies – Duck and Cover

What does this assortment of music tell you about my colleague? Do you think he and I will be able to work well together? Do you foresee issues, and if so, about what?

And lastly, How do you go about finding out about the musical tastes of your coworkers?

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Drive

 Posted by
Aug 092013
 

This afternoon, Mr. Royale and I are driving up to Mendocino to attend a friend’s wedding. Invariably, we have a discussion about what music we want to bring: for long drives, having just the right music ready for your Ever Changing Moods is, as you will invariably agree, very important. Can’t have too much jangle. And while Loud, Fast and Out of Control tunes can be helpful for long straightaways, it won’t work on twisty, turny Route 1. Don’t suggest that mp3 crap, or at least not yet. We haven’t found the perfect mp3 delivery system yet so we bring along good old-fashioned compact discs.

Our go-to album for a long drive is Tusk. I don’t know exactly how this came to be, but I know that we both always felt that this album was somewhat unfairly overlooked in favor of Rumours. I think it became our #1 Drive album by it’s mix of familiar radio hits, changes in tempo, Lindsey‘s string of thematically-related contributions, and the inclusion of African elements into that Laurel Canyon sound. The album’s iconic place in our driving set list was set during our honeymoon, when we were meandering all over California (and I was bugging Mr. Royale by asking him whether each particular town or hovel could be a place he would want to relocate).

This afternoon we might shake it up a bit and bring along Camper Van Beethoven‘s cover of the album. However, somewhere along the 5-hour ride, we’ll have answered the question of “What Makes You Think You’re The One?” and bring along that favorite driving album.

What are your go-to albums for a long drive?

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