A promising sign, Townspeeps, or at least an interesting one: Continue reading »
Jun 082011
Apr 212011
We all know too well that rock is still thought of in most circles as a young person’s game. But that’s not what I’m thinking of here. Some bands, you have to get into them when you’re relatively young. For instance, Pink Floyd and The Doors—let’s face it, their lyrical concerns are almost perfectly pitched to appeal to teenagers, but, in another light, those same concerns are just so damn goofy, you can’t possibly take them seriously as an adult. I can’t, anyway.
Perhaps a similar band from a different subculture—Fugazi. Could a 30-year-old really get into Fugazi for the first time? It’s nothing to do with their intrinsic quality as a band, but you need to be unformed to some degree to pick up what that band’s offering, I submit.
And let’s be really honest. If you’re 25 and you haven’t gone through a Beatles phase yet, it’s probably not going to happen. Move on.
And this isn’t just about music. It works for authors (Salinger) and directors (David Lynch, Woody Allen?) too.
Mar 022011
My teenage son has great taste in music—and I’m not just saying this because much of his tastes mirror his old man’s. However, as he just reminded me the other day, he still thinks Captain Beefheart is the worst rock ‘n roll artist he’s ever heard, even worse than all the stuff he is correct in feeling sucks. These occasional exchanges over his not liking Beefheart give me the opportunity to sagely nod my head and give him a “You’ll see…” talk. Isn’t it better he first hears one of these dismissive “You’ll see…” talks from his own father before he gets them from older guys in high school?
“You’ll see…” I knowingly spoke down to him, “you’ve got good taste. You’ll thank me some day.”
And I believe he will. (I’ve got nothing more to say, on the other hand, to those of you who still don’t get Beefheart.)
What artist whose music you love is least likely to appeal to teens who will one day know better?
Jul 102010
Children’s books aren’t what they used to be. My daughter, for example, is reading the novel I Am a Genius of Unspeakable Evil and I Want To Be Your Class President by Josh Lieb. It’s story of Oliver Watson, an evil genius disguised as dorkish new boy who wants his father’s love and will do anything to get it. Yep, anything.
Even introduce middle grade kids to Captain Beefheart and Trout Mask Replica. Oliver explains to the reader why Beefheart was an evil genius:
…a musician so brilliant, so evil, he drove his own band insane. He would not let them eat. He would not let them sleep. He would not let them leave the house. He made them wear dresses (and they were not girls). He stripped them of their very names and subjected them to hours of abusive group-therapy sessions. When a dejected and desperate member of the Magic Band managed to escape the Captain’s clutches, Beefheart snatched him off the street and dragged him back to the practice studio.
It was cruel. Assuredly. Inhumane. Undoubtedly. Evil. Disgustingly so. And yet I defy you, today, to listen to Trout Mask Replica and say it was not worth it.
Being in step with the times, ie, aping Diary of A Wimpy Kid like mad, we also get a photo of Beefheart and the Magic Band in their pomp. And the cover of Trout Mask Replica. To a generation raised on Taylor Swift and Justin Bieber (whoever he is!), explaining Captain Beefheart isn’t easy.
Townsmen and Townswomen – how do you explain Captain Beefheart to a child of the 21st century? Where would you start? What song by Beefheart might best explain his strange magic? When I gave Doc At Radar Station a quick spin my daughter fled the room with ears covered.
