Candy Apple Shimmer I

"If All You Dreamed Was New"

[This is one post in a series about my music mixes.  The series list has links to all posts in the series and also definitions of many of the terms I use.  You may wish to read the introduction for more background.

Like all my series, it is not necessarily contiguous—that is, I don’t guarantee that the next post in the series will be next week.  Just that I will eventually finish it, someday.  Unless I get hit by a bus.]

“Dreampop” has a lot of different meanings to different people.  Partially that’s because the genre (or subgenre, or style, or however you want to characterize it) is so flexible.  If it gets hard or punky, it becomes shoegaze; if it gets dark and gothy, it morphs into darkwave.  Infuse it with some electronica and you get chillwave; cross it with trip-hop and you end up with Hooverphonic; crossbreed it with worldmusic and you arrive at Dead Can Dance; feed it recursively back into shoegaze and you somehow come up with Mazzy Star.  It’s many things to many people, and people quibble over the where the lines are (is Lush shoegaze? or dreampop? or both? or is all shoegaze really a form of dreampop?¹), but there’s one thing pretty much everyone agrees on: it all starts with the Cocteau Twins.

And the Cocteaus, as we’ve noted many times throughout this series, started out as goth.²  And goth, as we’ve also discussed,³ is not, contrary to popular belief, all about darkness and death, but rather about high drama and style over substance (which may or may not use images of darkness and death to achieve that).  Well, dreampop is, in a weird way, what you get when you drain the drama out of goth music and you’re left with just the style: the glittery, ethereal, atmospheric style.  In a way, dreampop is a bit like the ambient version of goth:⁴ much of it just floats along, without any strong sense of melody or rhythm—the Cocteaus in particular have a lot of this sort of music.  But, then again, it is called dreampop, after all, and there’s a good deal of it which is quite catchy, even “hooky.” So you can see why people have different opinions.  But, ever since my initial discovery of the Cocteau Twins via an import version of their 1986 masterpiece Victorialand,⁵ I’ve been fascinated with the genre.  Out of the more than 1500 albums I own, the single artist with the largest quantity of titles in my collection is the Cocteau Twins.⁶  So we really have to start there.

For this mix, I wanted to emphasize the poppier side of dreampop.  That’s a little tough with the Cocteaus, who I often describe as angels singing in a pink fog.  For this mix, though, I didn’t want to feature the muted pinks, but rather the bright, glittery reds (which is what the mix name is aiming at, be it ever so obliquely).  For the Cocteau Twins, the first thing that really brought to mind was their most radio-friendly album ever, Heaven or Las Vegas.  It’s my second favorite Cocteau album, and it has the excellent “Cherry-Coloured Funk,” and that has the bright red I’m looking for right there in the title.  Plus you can almost make out a word or two here and there: something about good news, I think, and ... a tiger, maybe?  “In Our Angelhood,” on the other hand, is quite different: from the Cocteaus’ second album, it’s definitely not goth, but it’s not quite the ethereal dreampop they’d be famous for by the next couple of albums either.  Not only can you make out some of the words (note: this does not make them make sense), but some of them even rhyme: “like he said he would ... in our angelhood.” It’s also quite fast, at least for them, and I can’t help but think it was songs like this that really inspired a lot of the dreampop I showcase here.

In the “well, duh” category, I couldn’t avoid paying homage to perhaps the second biggest influence on modern dreampop: David-Lynch-inspired Angelo Badalamenti soundtrack music.  In this case, I went with the iconic Twin Peaks soundtrack, specifically “The Bookhouse Boys,” which is just as moody and atmospheric as the rest of that album, but also expansive and echoey, with just a bit of jazz flair.  4AD supergroup This Mortal Coil had to be here as well, showcasing as it often did different members of the Cocteaus paired with members of Dead Can Dance, Xmal Deutschland, Wolfgang Press, and Colourbox.  “Another Day,” which of course is off my all-time favorite TMC album, It’ll End in Tears,⁷ features Elizabeth Fraser of the Cocteaus, Martin McGarrick (who often played for Siouxsie) on cello, and Gini Ball (who played for everyone from Siouxsie to Soft Cell to Psychic TV) on strings.  It’s a spare arrangement with a quite intelligible vocal performance from Fraser, and it flows beautifully into another classic, off one of my best beloved albums-to-fall-asleep-to, Shepherd Moons.  Enya can also be ethereal and nigh-indecipherable, but the lyrics of “Caribbean Blue” are as crystal clear as the ocean she’s singing of:

If every man does all he can,
If every man is true,
Do I believe the sky above
Is Caribbean blue?

Gorgeous.  (This song also provides our volume title, as it happens.)  And, finally, while Bel Canto is not as well known as the other old-school dreampop bands I chose here, this electronica-adjacent trio from Norway had some magnificent gems in the late 80s and early 90s, of which “Unicorn” is one of the best.

For the more modern dreampop representation, I waffled on several tunes from Devics and Trespassers William to represent the LA scene of the late 90s/early 00s.  In the end, I went with TW’s amazing rendition of “Rainbow Connection,” which I felt was a beautiful closer, and decided reluctantly to let Devics wait till next volume.  Because there’s a buttload of mid-2010s stuff I just had to get to: the psychedlic guitar work of Deerhunter’s “Carrion,” the surrealist synth of Taken by Trees, showcased in “Horizon,” and the dreamy power-pop of Scavenger Hunt, especially as epitomized by “Dreamers.” But there are two choices I wanted to highlight.  First, also pushing the “pop” half of the dreampop label, we have Flora Cash, another of those bands whose name sounds like a person.  In reality, they are Kosovo-born Shpresa Lleshaj and Minneapolis native Cole Randall, who met on Soundcloud and then began working together in Sweden.  They have some gorgeous intertwining of female and male vocals, all backed by strong melodies which are very definitely pop, but also containing synth and guitar work that provides the dreamy atmosphere.  “California” is my absolute favorite of theirs, and I chose it to break open the middle third of the volume, opening it with a bang.  Secondly, there’s Chromatics, from Portland, whose magnificent “Cherry” was in many ways the inspiration for this whole mix.  While dreampop has been a passion of mine for many years—decades, even—I’ve been mostly focussed on its more gentle sides, its expansive sides, its darker sides, its psychedelic sides.  But when I heard Chromatics perform in the Twin Peaks revival series, I thought “man, I’ve got to hear more.” And then I heard “Cherry,” and I realized that I’d been a fool to downplay the pop side of dreampop.  Because there are a lot of amazing tracks to be experienced, and “Cherry” is one of the reddest, glitteriest ones in the bunch.

For a bit of infusion of darkwave, I went with one of the brightest tunes from Unto Ashes (of course, bright for them is still pretty dark for anyone else), “Scourge,” and a fairly standard outing from Love Spirals Downwards, “Mediterranea.” We’ve heard from both bands before.⁸  For a bit of shoegaze, I went with the inimitable Warpaint: “Keep It Healthy” is pretty light for them, which, again, is pretty heavy for anyone else.⁹  For a touch of ambient, I had to go with Australis, mainly because they have this great track, “The Gates of Reality,” but its Enigma-reminiscent whispered vocals, occasional though they are, make it entirely unsuitable for the other places I’ve used them.¹⁰

Candy Apple Shimmer I
[ If All You Dreamed Was New ]

“Hannah” by the House of Love, off The House of Love [Butterfly Album]
“Cherry” by Chromatics, off Cherry
“All the Way Down” by the Primitives, off Pure
“Cherry-Coloured Funk” by Cocteau Twins, off Heaven or Las Vegas
“Carrion” by Deerhunter, off Fading Frontier
“Horizon” by Taken by Trees, off Other Worlds
“The Gates of Reality” by Australis, off The Gates of Reality
“Unicorn” by Bel Canto, off Shimmering, Warm & Bright
“Scourge” by Unto Ashes, off Moon Oppose Moon
“California” by Flora Cash, off Nothing Lasts Forever (and It's Fine)
“The Bookhouse Boys” by Angelo Badalamenti, off Twin Peaks [Soundtrack]
“In Our Angelhood” by Cocteau Twins, off Head Over Heels
“Jennifer” by Eurythmics, off Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)
“Making Mirrors” by Gotye, off Making Mirrors
“Another Day” by This Mortal Coil, off It'll End in Tears
“Caribbean Blue” by Enya, off Shepherd Moons
“Mediterranea” by Love Spirals Downwards, off Idylls [Reissue]
“Keep It Healthy” by Warpaint, off Warpaint
“Dreamers” by Scavenger Hunt, off Scavenger Hunt [EP]
“Over the Rooftops” by Gene Loves Jezebel, off Discover
“Rainbow Connection” by Trespassers William [Single]

Total:  21 tracks,  79:53

Which leaves us with the usual run of at least moderately unexpected choices.  Most of these are 80s-throwback tunes: songs that were stretching out for dreampop, possibly without even realizing it.  The single exception to that, though, is our one and only bridge, Gotye’s “Making Mirrors.” While Gotye is of course most famous for his smash hit “Somebody That I Used to Know,”¹¹ he dabbles in trippy little gems like this one, which I felt was the perfect bridge from the poppier middle third (characterized by “California” and “In Our Angelhood”) into the slower downslope of This Mortal Coil leading to Enya leading to Love Spirals Downwards.

It’s bridging from the Eurythmics, as it happens, who are typically thought of as alternapop or possibly new wave.  But I always saw “Jennifer” (with her orange hair and green eyes and her dress of deepest purple) as something different for the normally very synthpoppy Eurythmics.  It’s slow and deliberate, and it sets a very particualr mood that somehow seems more important than whatever Annie Lennox is actually singing about, and I think that really captures the essence of dreampop.

But the iconic 80s track¹² I wanted to open this mix with is House of Love’s “Hannah,” also the opener on their second self-titled album, which is now usually just called the Butterfly Album (similarly to the Beatles’ White Album or Weezer’s Green Album).  House of Love was in the same movement as the Stone Roses (as well as many others like Blind Melon), which I would say grew out of some of the 80s bands like the Church and Echo and the Bunnymen and the Dream Academy.  Sometimes this is referred to as “neo-psychedelia.” But, honestly, it’s pretty much just dreampop.  “Hannah” even has much the same structure as “I Wanna Be Adored”: a very slow fade-in, echoey guitars, reverby vocals, a repeated refrain (House of Love used “this is not my sky” whereas Stone Roses used “I don’t need to sell my soul”), slow verses and choruses that eventually build to a harder breakdown which drops back down to downtempo again ... the songs were even released within a year or so of each other—almost certainly too close for one to be a rip-off of the other, but also too close to be a complete coincidence.  And, while I really dig “I Wanna Be Adored,” I think “Hannah” is the superior offering, and that’s why it needed to be the opening here.  It really sets the tone for what follows.

Admittedly the other two are a bit more of a stretch.  Gene Loves Jezebel is sometimes described as new wave and sometimes as post-punk (which is quite strange, since inasmuch as “post-punk” means anything—which isn’t inasmuch of much—it means something nearly diametrically opposed to new wave¹³), and Wikipedia actually has the balls to call them goth, which ... no.  Just, no.  What they are is a bit unusual style, a lot echoey, ringing guitars, and healthy dose atypical vocal performance.  It is proper dreampop?  I suppose not, though I always found something dreamy in it.  Besides being a fascinating story of maybe the only time in history that identical twins ended up hating each other, Gene Loves Jezebel is a wonderfully 80s phenomenon that produced an iconic album (Discover) which is sadly now mostly forgotten.  But I felt that “Over the Rooftops” deserved to be resurrected here.

Last but not least, the Primitives are emblematic of the cusp bands that lived in that brief period when the 80s weren’t quite over but the 90s weren’t quite sure who they were yet.  Another band that some try to cram into new wave while others think they can be squeezed into post-punk, the Primitives were, along with the Darling Buds, and (to a lesser extent) Transvision Vamp, female-fronted alternapop that was glittery and synthy and very definitely not the sort of stuff I would eventually collect on Sirenexiv Cola.  That was all serious and folky—Tori Amos and Alanis Morissette and Liz Phair—but this was not deep at all.  This was just fun, and poppy, and occasionally just the slightest bit trippy.  Like Hooverphonic, Dead Can Dance, or Blondie, it was rare for you to hear male vocals from the Primitives, but, when you did, it was nearly always worth it.  Oh, don’t get me wrong: the best Primitives songs are still the ones Tracy Tracy sings—“Way Behind Me” and “Crash” and “Keep Me in Mind” and “Shadow” and “Out of Reach” and “Summer Rain” and their cover of “I’ll Be Your Mirror”—but when Paul Court took the mic, it was always different and memorable.  He sang “Carry Me Home,” and “I Almost Touched You,” and especially “All the Way Down,” which is the one I chose here to highlight just how dreamy they could be.  It isn’t ethereal at all, and it isn’t quite psychedelic, but it does have something that is evocative of the dreamiest dreampop, and I thought it worked particularly well here.  I put “Cherry” first, of course, but this wasn’t a bad follow-up.

Next time, we’ll crank it up to eleven.

__________

1 The proper answer, of course, is that shoegaze is related to, but separate from, dreampop, and, while early Lush is shoegaze, there’s really no way you could call Lovelife anything other than dream pop.

2 In particular we noted it on Penumbral Phosphorescence, where we featured one of their very goth tracks from their first (very goth) album.

3 Again, see Penumbral Phosphorescence.

4 For way more discussion on ambient, check out Shadowfall Equinox III.

5 For more on that, see Smokelit Flashback II.

6 I own 11 of the Cocteau’s albums, for those who are curious.  Number two is Jeff Greinke, who is featured so heavily throughout Shadowfall Equinox, with 8, and then 7 each for the Cure, INXS, and They Might Be Giants.

7 See Shadowfall Equinox II for a deeper dive into my affection for this album.

8 Unto Ashes on Penumbral Phosphorescence I and Dreamtime I; LSD on Smokelit Flashback V, Shadowfall Equinox I, and Rose-Coloured Brainpan II.

9 We first encountered Warpaint on Dreamscape Perturbation I.

10 Such as Mystical Memoriam I, and Shadowfall Equinox IV.

11 Which I used on Rose-Coloured Brainpan II.

12 While it was technically released in 1990, I still consider this very much an 80s song.

13 See also Totally Different Head for deeper dives on the crossovers between punk and new wave.

Staycation, All I Ever Wanted

This week, I not only have another free Friday, but most of my family has buggered off to go to aquariums and, eventually, cabins in the woods far, far away, while I stay home and take a week off from $work.  So I’m just catching up on all my outstanding stuff: gonna work on my Todo spreadsheet, put some work into my D&D campaigns, maybe do some light programming I’ve been putting off, and not write a blog post.  So far, so good.

Improv at the (D&D) Table

Sometimes, when people try to explain what D&D is (or any TTRPG, for that matter ... despite the title, this post applies to all roleplaying games), they try to describe it as basically fantasy improv.  Which, in some ways, it is.  But also, it’s not, which is why I started pondering this post many moons ago, and now it’s percolated long enough.

See, I think that the big problem with thinking of RPGs as improv is the whole concept of “yes and.” As almost everyone knows nowadays, the number one rule of improv is that you always go along with whatever reality your scene partners want to create.  No matter what they say, you respond with “yes, and ...” Meaning that, you must never contradict what they’ve established; you can only add on to it.  For improv, this is a brilliant rule, which leads to some great comedy.  I personally think improv is almost entirely suited for comedy above all other forms of entertainment, and I think it’s because “yes and” leads inevitably to surrealism, and it’s difficult to take that seriously.  Because when anyone is allowed to say that anything is now real, and everyone else just has to roll with it, sooner or later shit is going to get strange.  So improv works for comedy.  Does it also work for RPGs?

Well, sort of.  Many TTRPGs—and D&D in particular—have a foundation in fantasy, so they don’t mind a little surrealism.  But, at the same time, while it might be fun to play in a game where literally anything can happen for a short time, it’s difficult to sustain over the course of a campaign.  Remember: roleplaying is storytelling.  And, in the best stories, even ones of highly fantastical worlds, there are rules.  There’s an internal logic: a sort of fantasy physics.  It’s not our physics, of course, but there is a system and magic or whatever has to follow the rules of that system.  Besides, what kind of hero’s journey are you going to get if the hero has no limitations?  If the hero can just wave their arms and achieve their goals instantaneously, there’s no tension in the story, no obstacles to overcome.  Gets boring after a while, and defeats character growth.  So, RPGs can’t work solely on the impetus of “yes and.”

But that doesn’t mean we can’t draw analogues.  If you already understand how improv works, this is how I would describe the differences between improv and D&D.  As a player in a TTRPG, you have relationships with 3 primary different classes of participants:

Other Players

As a player, your relationship with other players is absolutely “yes and.” The only caveat here is that you must always remember to make a distinction between you (the player) and your character.  Your character is certainly not obliged to “yes and” the other characters.  In fact, sometimes it can be fun for your characters to have conflicts ... but only if you remember that you are not obstructing your fellow player’s desires.  In the short run, it’s perfectly fine for your character to object—even to strenuously object—to another character’s plan.  In the long run, you the player are obliged to find a way for your character to get on board with what the rest of the group wants to do.

This ties in with a common objection of RPG players: the obstructive player who ruins the game because “that’s what my character would do!” You, the player, knows what your character wants, what they’re willing to tolerate, and where they draw the lines.  But you the player also know that you’re all trying to tell a story together, and you’re playing the game to have fun.  So “yes and” your fellow players, and then figure out why your character is, in the end, going to do what everyone wants to do.  Maybe they’re succumbing to peer pressure.  Maybe they’re being blackmailed.  Maybe they decide to play the long game and acquiesce now to get something they want later.  Doesn’t matter.  Have your character bitch and moan now, if you feel that’s appropriate, but figure out how to fall in line, because you need to “yes and.” The time will come when your fellow players will reciprocate your largesse.

The GM

However, your relationship as a player with me, your GM, is entirely different.  As far as I’m concerned, my job is not to “yes and”: it’s more like “yes, but.” The most common “but” involves rolling dice: you say your character is going to jump up and use the chandelier to swing across the room; I say “yes, but you’re going to have to roll an Acrobatics check, and it’s going to be a high difficulty.” Other times it might relate to how much you can do at a time.  For instance, you say your character jumps up on the table, kicks away the centerpiece in your way, grabs the chandelier, swings across to the person attacking your ally, lands right beside them, then stabs them.  I respond “yes, but doing all is going to take you two turns—you just don’t have enough actions to do it all in one turn.” During character creation, a “yes but” is most likely to take the form of notifying you that you’re going to have to work harder at your backstory.  For instance, I once ran a game in a world of my own devising where all dwarves were afraid of water.  Not cups of water, of course, but any body of water larger than a stream, they avoided like the plague.  If you were playing in that world and you wanted to play a dwarven pirate, I would say “yes, but dwarves don’t get on ships, so how did you get to be a pirate?”

The most important thing to remember about “yes but” is that it’s still a “yes” ... no matter how much it sounds like a “no.” In the dwarven pirate example, I’m not telling you you can’t play the character you want.  I’m just telling you you’ve got to come up with a reason to explain where it comes from.  Maybe your dwarf was raised by elves and never learned that fear of water.  Maybe someone put them under a spell once and it somehow erased their aquaphobia.  Maybe there’s some water elemental in your family bloodline somewhere far back in antiquity.  Be creative: the awesome thing about a fantasy game is that you can come up with just about anything and it can sound reasonable.  So I’m not saying “no,” I’m just asking you to respect my worldbuilding by coming up with a reason why your character doesn’t conform to my rules.

When I (the GM) say “yes but” to you (the player), you have basically 3 options for a response: “never mind,” “fuck you,” and “yes but” in return.

The first option is just to change your mind about what you wanted to do.  This is not a game like chess; you’re not committed to a course of action just because you said it out loud, thus taking your virtual finger off your virtual piece.  If I tell you that what you want to do is going to take two turns, you’re perfectly justified to say “well, no, I don’t want to take that long before I get to attack.” This just represents your chacter considering, and then rejecting, a course of action.

The “fuck you” option is you telling me that you don’t care what the downsides are, you’re going to do it anyway.  You’ll accept the difficult roll, you’ll take the extra turn to complete the action, you’ll figure out how to work something extra into your backstory.  When you tell me you want to jump off the cliff, and I respond with “yes, but it’s 100 feet down: you’re going to die if you do that,” you’re perfectly within your rights to say “fuck you, I can jump off the cliff if I want to.” And you can.  My job as your friendly neighborhood GM ends at the point where I’ve advised you of the consequences of your actions; if you want to damn the consequences and full speed ahead, who am I to stand in your way?

But just like I can “yes but” you, you can “yes but” me in return.  I can’t possibly know everything that’s on your character sheet.  You may have to tell me: “yes, but I have a class feature called ‘chandelier swing’ that lets me swing on chandeliers without needing to make an Acrobatics check.” Or “yes, but I cast the fly spell as I’m jumping off the cliff, so I’m not going to die after all.” Now, I can “yes but” you a second time—perhaps “yes, but you’re out of spell slots, remember?”—and then you can “yes but” me back again, and so on until we finally come to an agreement.

Just like when you’re interacting with other players, the main thing to remember when interacting with your GM is that you’re telling a story together.  There’s a certain amount of back-and-forth that may be necessary to get you where you want to be, but at the end of the day I’m on your side: I want you succeed, if you can.  But, like we said up at the top, I don’t want to make it too easy.  Overcoming the obstacles is what allows your character to be heroic.

The Dice

The dice are actually the only participants in the game that should ever say, just flat out, “no.” If you listen to folks talk about playing D&D and other RPGs online, you’ll often hear them talk about “failing forward,” or saying “it’s fun to fail.” What they mean is, when you roll the dice (often in response to your GM’s “yes but”) and your roll comes up short, suddenly you’ve got to figure out what to do.  How do you recover from the failure?  Have things gone from bad to worse as a result?  That often happens in fantasy stories, and sometimes those are the best parts of the story.  Do your friends have to change their plans to help out now?  There are all sorts of storytelling opportunities that derive from a failure to achieve a goal on the first attempt.

One important thing to remember is that when we talk about “failure,” we mean that your character has failed to accomplish a thing.  That’s not the same thing as saying your character had a personal failure.  Often, it doesn’t make any sense for your (possibly very accomplished) character to fail to do something they do all the time, like pick a lock, or hit someone with a sword.  But it’s not always about your character’s ability: a good GM will sometimes describe a failure as fate intervening in a way that’s entirely outside your character’s control.  Perhaps a sudden gust of wind blows some dust into your eyes at just the wrong time; perhaps someone accidentally jostles your arm; perhaps that god you offended last adventure now has it in for you and is taking a personal hand in things just to mess with you.  The dice are telling a story with you just like the GM and the other players.  Sometimes the dice tells you that do an amazing thing; sometimes they tell you you fall on your face.  Your failure isn’t the story; how you deal with the failure may well be.

So the tenets of improv have something to teach us about how to play TTRPGs, but we have to be cognizant of the differences as well.  All the participants have different roles to play, but they all work together to weave the tale.  And, at the end of the day, an awesome story is what makes it fun for everyone.

A name by any other name would still be a day off

You know, my $work refers to this every-other-Friday-off plan as “Summer Fridays.” Despite that, it’s going to continue until September 24th.  Not that I’m complaining, of course ... I just like my designation of “free Fridays” instead.

All of which is to say, another free Friday weekend means no real post for you again.  One would think you’d be getting used to it at this point.  But, cheer up, faithful reader: next week will be better.  Surely ‘twill be so.

Gramophonic Skullduggery I

"White Spats and Lots of Dollars"

[This is one post in a series about my music mixes.  The series list has links to all posts in the series and also definitions of many of the terms I use.  You may wish to read the introduction for more background.

Like all my series, it is not necessarily contiguous—that is, I don’t guarantee that the next post in the series will be next week.  Just that I will eventually finish it, someday.  Unless I get hit by a bus.]

I think the first song I can really remember hearing that used filters to make a modern song sound like it was being played off a scratchy 78 was “Puttin’ on the Ritz,” by the enigmatically named Taco.  Born in Indonesia, educated in Belgium, Dutch citizen who started performing in Germany, Taco (yep, that’s his actual given name) was primarily doing a synthpop version of an ancient (originally released in 1929) Irving Berlin tune.  The voice filtering is light; most of the old-timey vibe of the song is provided by its just being an old-timey song.  Production has been used in other songs since then to give them a patina of age, and it has gotten much more obvious through the years.  There are almost certainly examples that predate Taco too; I’m just not familiar with any of them.  I always thought it was a nifty technique, if not overdone, and there have been several radio-friendly examples that I can recall, such as Space’s “The Female of the Species,” or White Town’s “Your Woman,” where the vocals sound less like they’re coming off an old phonograph and more like they’re being delivered over an old analog telephone line with a bad connection.  I’m not sure when I decided to gather such songs and turn them into a mix, but of course all 3 of these examples had to feature heavily, which is why you see them back-to-back as the first vocal tracks on this volume (and why Taco gets the honor of providing the volume title).

Of course, “scratchy record” songs, as I referred to them before deciding that they all had in common a mischeivous sense of shenanigans in addition to the sound of the old Victrola, are not sufficient for a mix.  Not due to lack of examples, of course—I’m sure I could fill a mix with only such songs—but more because I think the gimmick would get old after a while.  “If not overdone,” you may recall from the preceding paragraph.  But what would make a natural pairing with songs like this?  Why, the other half of what makes “Puttin’ on the Ritz” work, of course: songs that are just structured similarly to those songs from the 20s, 30s, and so forth that epitomize the era of the old gramophones.

Sometimes these are new songs dressed up to be reminiscent of those classics.  Squirrel Nut Zippers are excellent at this, as they prove with “Prince Nez” (among many others).  The arrangement, including banjo, muted trumpet, and Hawaiian-style steel guitar bending, gives it that old-time feeling.  Britain’s Electric Swing Circus¹ is not so bad at it either, but they have a tendency to add some modern fluorishes (like buzzing synth chords and a touch of that voice filtration again).  “The Penniless Optimist” is the best example of this, but the much softer “Put Your Smile On,” which is little more than the scratchy record filter and an accompanying ukelele, is a nice little track to help us wind down to the close.  Fellow Euro-electro-swing practitioners (this time from France) Caravan Palace are not known for this style, but their not-quite-instrumental “Panic” somehow still manages to evoke the frenetic pace of 20s and 30s music while maintaining the strong electronic feel.  But the all-time best practitioners of this style have to be the Red Sea Pedestrians.  We’ve seen RSP before, most notably on Porchwell Firetime,² but you’d have to guess that a band consisting of a guitar, banjo, stand-up bass, fiddle, clarinet, and percussion, and who self-describes as “a warped and beautiful blend of American Roots, Rock, Klezmer, Gypsy, Classical and Jazz”, would certainly fit the bill here.  “Sleepwalk Dreamin’” is an amazing tune that manages to sound both indeliby modern and also comfortably at home in the 30s or 40s, and it’s pretty pitch-perfect for this mix.  Their ”[Untitled]” is the closer for their first album, and I liked so much in that capacity that I made it the closer here as well.

Of course, the other way to do it is to emulate Taco and take an actual old-timey song and update the arrangement, but not too much.  “Going Up to the Country, Paint My Mailbox Blue” is not quite as old as I am, but I was in fact only 2 years old when the great blues musician Taj Mahal first recorded it.  The version here, by Austin eclectics the Asylum Street Spankers, is given the same trappings that SNZ used on “Prince Nez”: banjo, clarinet, fiddle, and brushes on the snare instead of the standard drumsticks, and I have to say I like it better than the original, although I am admittedly a blues illiterate.  Or take Lee Press-On and the Nails’ take on the 1939 classic “Brazil”, which also uses a touch of filtered vocals and theremin-like synths to spruce up a very 40s-style song.  (The interlude tacked on at the end was so perfect when recontextualized that I just kept it for fun.)

Alternatively, you can do it the other way round: take a modern song and recast it with a 30s or 40s style of instrumentation.  And no one does that better than Scott Bradlee & Postmodern Jukebox.  Here I’ve chosen to showcase their version of “Hey There Delilah,” originally by the Plain White T’s.  By adding a banjo and some honkytonk-style piano, giving vocal duties to Joey Cook doing an able imitation of a flapper,³ and speeding up the tempo considerably (and most likely taking it out of the minor key of the original, though I confess I’m not musically knowledgeable enough to say that for sure), Bradlee turns it into a whole different song.  The original would have been weirdly out of place here; this version is perfect.  And, while it’s tough to beat Bradlee, I have to give a shout out to Orkestra Obsolete, who redid the New Order classic “Blue Monday” “using only instruments available in the 1930s.” In order to reproduce the very synth-heavy song, they used a number of techniques, including a theremin, a musical saw, and even a glass harp, which is basically just running your fingers around the rims of wine glasses filled to different levels with water.  Although you can certainly appreciate just the audio, this is one instance where you should really check out the video (linked below), and maybe even the accompanying article.  There was never any doubt that this song would end up here: it opens with the playing of an actual scratchy record!  Tough to beat that for fitness for a particular purpose.

Of course, there’s also no shortage of tunes that actually use vocoders or other filtration techniques to give songs that old-timey feel.  Many artists like to use such things as little bridges or interludes.  Cyndi Lauper stuck “He’s So Unusual” in just before the closing song on her debut album; it’s actually pulling double duty here, as it’s an update of a 20s song sung by Helen Kane (the inspiriation for Betty Boop).  Twice as long and still under two minutes, “Wet My Bed” is (according to Wikipedia) the first song recorded by the Stone Temple Pilots; it’s a surreal, stream-of-consciousness track, improvised by Scott Weiland and Robert DeLeo⁴ and then later stuck on their debut album two songs from the end, where I would eventually hear it and go “what the fuck was that??” But it stuck with me, and here it is again.  And the “Intro” of Michelle Branch’s Hotel Paper is a mere 11 seconds, but it’s just as good an intro to this volume.

Of course, the scratchy record effect is beloved of some downtempo artists, particularly those looking for that “lo-fi” feel.  For instance, Monster Rally⁵ employs it a bit in the opening of “Orchids,” and even more so in “Lovely You.” Both songs have a bit of an old-timey feel above and beyond just that though, which is also the case with “Smoke from the Attic” by Smokey Bandits.  All three instrumental pieces somehow manage to evoke the early part of the 20th century even while being pretty firmly grounded in the early years of the 21st.⁶  On the other hand, “Slow Serenade” by German electro-swing artist Tape Five⁷ is also an instrumental, and also released in the first 20 years of this century, but has zero modern concessions.  It could have easily been pulled from an episode of The Lawrence Welk Show that my grandparents watched when I was a child.  Despite that not-particularly-glowing assessment, it’s a sweet tune that probably wouldn’t work anywhere else in my mix universe.

Meanwhile, applying a filter to vocals to make them sound tinny or far away is not that uncommon either.  Besides some of the aforementioned examples, there is of course the ultra-classic “One Night in Bangkok,” from the musical Chess.  Now, I am definitely no fan of opera, and not even particularly a fan of ABBA,⁸ but for some reason I just adored this song when it appeared on the radio during my freshman year in college.  Many reviewers describe Murray Head’s “rap” as a bit lame, and I’ll admit that, as a rap, it leaves a lot to be desired.  But if you think of it as a poem that happens to have some music playing in the background, I think it’s pretty awesome.⁹  That is, judging it only on the basis of its wordplay, it has a lot to recommend it to an English major such as myself.  Plus it’s just fun.  For a couple of more obscure picks, I went with De-Phazz and Trost.  De-Phazz is known—insofar as it is known at all¹⁰—for a sort of soul-inflected, neoclassical adjacent, jazzy downtempo electronica ... imagine you could fuze Morcheeba with Koop and drop them into the middle of a decently sized string section.¹¹  But Days of Twang is atypical for them: it’s still downtempo, but this time there’s a lot of retro-rockabilly, as if you were trying to recreate the Brian Setzer Orchestra using only robots.¹²  “Rock ‘n’ Roll Dude” is that rarest of songs, a track under two minutes which is not a bridge, but rather a standalone song—just a very brief one.¹³  And it’s a perfect little encapsulation of electro-rockabilly, heavily processed and filtered, and just a delight.  Trost, meanwhile, I’m going to say does meet my defniition of a moderately obscure artist: on AllMusic, she has both a (very short) bio with no discography and a discography with no bio, and Wikipedia has no clue who she is at all.  Apparently, who she is is a Berlin native who’s been involved in the music industry since she was 20 and has produced a wide variety of music.  But her solo efforts are echoey, vaguely creepy affairs which have a distinctive sound, and “Even Sparrows Don’t Like to Stay” is all that, plus the obligatory scratchy record filter.  It’s the centerpiece of the much slower back third of the mix.

Gramophonic Skullduggery I
[ White Spats and Lots of Dollars ]

“Intro” by Michelle Branch, off Hotel Paper
“Orchids” by Monster Rally, off Return to Paradise
“Female of the Species” by Space, off Spiders
“Puttin' on the Ritz [single version]” by Taco [Single]
“Your Woman” by White Town, off Women in Technology
“Prince Nez” by Squirrel Nut Zippers, off Hot
“Going Up to the Country, Paint My Mailbox Blue” by Asylum Street Spankers, off Mercurial
“Sleepwalk Dreamin'” by the Red Sea Pedestrians, off See Through the Eyes of Osiris!
“Hey There Delilah” by Scott Bradlee & Postmodern Jukebox, off Top Hat on Fleek
“Smoke from the Attic” by Smokey Bandits, off Debut
“One Night in Bangkok” by Murray Head [Single]¹⁴
“He's So Unusual” by Cyndi Lauper, off She's So Unusual
“The Penniless Optimist” by the Electric Swing Circus, off The Electric Swing Circus
“Dr. Wanna Do” by Caro Emerald, off Deleted Scenes from the Cutting Room Floor
“Wet My Bed” by Stone Temple Pilots, off Core
“Rock 'n' Roll Dude” by De-Phazz, off Days of Twang
“Lovely You” by Monster Rally, off Return to Paradise
“Feel Good Inc.” by Gorillaz, off Demon Days
“Panic” by Caravan Palace, off Panic
“Blue Monday” by Orkestra Obsolete [Single]¹⁵
“Brazil” by Lee Press-On and the Nails, off El Bando en Fuego!
“Slow Serenade” by Tape Five, off Swing Patrol
“Even Sparrows Don't Like to Stay” by Trost, off Trust Me
“Put Your Smile On” by the Electric Swing Circus, off The Electric Swing Circus
“Remember Me” by Bella Ruse, off Bella Ruse [EP]
“[Untitled]” by the Red Sea Pedestrians, off A Lesson in Cartography

Total:  26 tracks,  77:09

For the last few, less obvious choices, I went with Bella Ruse, whom you may recall from Sirenexiv Cola, to close the volume (not counting the super-brief outro from RSP).  Honestly, the vast majority of Kay Gillette’s vocals sound like they belong on an old 78 ... their website describes it as an “antique voice.” “Remember Me” is another short song that isn’t a bridge:¹⁶ just a sweet, simple acoutic-guitar-driven ballad.  It honestly just doesn’t need the filter to sound old-timey.

Next there’s “Dr. Wanna Do” from Caro Emerald.  You may recall we first ran into this Dutch purveyor of electro-swing on Salsatic Vibrato III, but we seen her since on several other volumes.¹⁷  That’s because she’s awesome.  And honestly a lot of her music is reminiscnent of interwar Europe, such as was portrayed in Stephen Fry’s excellent Bright Young Things.  This track uses the muted trumpet, a stand-up bass, some voice-filtered scatting, and a breakdown that triplicates Emerald’s voice to make her a one-woman Andrews Sisters.  The result is a typically captivating Emerald outing.

Finally, the most off-beat choice is probably “Feel Good Inc.” by Gorillaz.  While the heavy voice filtering is an obvious qualifier, nothing else about this song gives off any kind of old-timey vibe.  Still, it’s an amazing track with a great (and proper) rap from De La Soul, and I would’ve felt weird not including it here.

Next time, let’s get dreamy.

__________

1 Known primarily for their upbeat retro-swing tunes such as can be found on Salsatic Vibrato VII, but also for the occasional surreal tune such as the one I used on Bleeding Salvador II.

2 But also on Bleeding Salvador II and Wisty Mysteria II.

3 Wikipedia tells me that Cook was on American Idol.  I’ve never watched it personally, but perhaps you remember her.

4 Apparently the “all right, now what?” at the end is producer Brendan O’Brien wondering where the hell they were going to go from there.

5 We first heard from them on Apparently World I, but also on Paradoxically Sized World V.

6 Debut by Smokey Bandits was released in 2010; Monster Rally’s Return to Paradise came out in 2013.

7 We were introduced to Tape Five on Salsatic Vibrato VII.

8 In case you didn’t know (or perhaps had forgotten), Chess was written by the two male members of ABBA—that is, the two “B"s.

9 To be clear, proper rap is much more than that.

10 Which I suspect is not much: AllMusic knows who they are, so they don’t quite meet my defniition of moderately obscure band, but Wikipedia is definitely a bit hazy on them, so they’re close.

11 Although I suppose that only works if you know who both Koop and Morcheeba are, and, if you knew that, you’d have a decent shot of knowing who De-Phazz is anyhow.  I should probably work on my descriptions.

12 There: better?

13 The other classic example being the Smiths’ “Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want.”

14 Linking you to YouTube because it’s really the only place you can get the full extended version.  You can find shorter versions on Amazon, but, if you’re like me, only the 1984 radio edit will really scratch this itch.

15 This one, on the other hand, is not available anywhere other than YouTube, as far as I know.

16 This mix seems to attract such; perhaps it’s an unconscious callback to those early days when songs were in general much shorter.

17 Specifically, Salsatic Vibrato VI, Salsatic Vibrato VII, and Moonside by Riverlight II.

Groovin', on a Sunday afternoon ...

Another free Friday from the good folks at my $work, and another week of not much here for you to look at.  Just trust me that I’m making good use of the extra time to get some family stuff caught up.  And come back next week for a better post.

Where That Rank Smell Is Really Coming From

Here’s another topic I’ve been hearing a lot about and I have a strong opinion on.  We’re hearing this type of thing in lots of places, but I’ll just highlight one.  This is from the quite excellent podcast Election Profit Makers:^*

David: This New York City mayor election isn’t going to be over for months, by the way.  I just want to put that out there—with the ranked-choice voting and everything, it’s going to be such a mess.  They’re not going to know who the mayor is until, like, Christmas Eve, I bet.
Starlee: Really?
John: There’s going to be lots of ways.
David: I think it’s going to take at least a month.  That’s my prediction.
Starlee: I still don’t understand it, the ranked-choice voting stuff.

No, no one understands it apparently, and comedians are having a field day making fun of how crazy and messy and silly it all is.  The Daily Show did a whole segment on it, and that’s just the longest parade of jibes I’ve been subjected to in the past couple of months.  The message is constant and clear: this a terrible idea that we should all laugh at.  And I certainly listen to what my media overlords tell me to do.

Well, most of the time.  Because this happens to be an area that I have some personal knowledge of.  You see, I used to work on electronic voting systems.  Back in those days, we called it “instant-runoff voting,” but it’s the same system.  Not only is it trivial to understand, but it’s actually quite good for our democracy.  Hasan Minhaj puts it best in this episode of Patriot Act (I encourage you to watch the whole thing, but this quote occurs at around 13:12):

Winner-take-all creates two-party systems.  You can’t afford to waste your vote, so you stop voting for candidates who reflect your values, and you start voting for ones you think can win.  But when everybody does that, we end up with just two huge mega-parties, even though 57% of Americans want a third party.  Think about the way we treat people who vote third party.  You’d be like, “Dennis, who’d you vote for?” and he’s like “Gary Johnson.” And we’re like “Dennis! what the fuck are you doing, man?” We treat them like they just left a baby in a hot car.  We’re like “what were you thinking?!?”

In fact, I constantly vote for third-party candidates, but that’s primarily because I refuse to let the two-party system win.  “Doing the math” and avoidng third-party candidates is what allows the Democrats and the Republicans to maintain their stranglehold on our political system.  And you can call that a “conspiracy theory” if you like, as long as you acknowledge that this “conspiracy” is an open secret that is enabled every election by millions and millions of people.  So my innate stubborn streak demands that I give the middle finger to all that shit.  But, to be fair, I also have the luxury of living in a state where my second choice always wins, so it doesn’t matter who single-little-old-me votes for.  If I lived in a more contentious location—a “battleground” state, as the media likes to call them—would I still have the courage of my convictions?  I don’t know.  On the one hand, I can tell you that I have voted third-party before when I lived in Virginia, and the winner there was never a foregone conclusion.  But, on the other hand, I can also tell you that the thought of voting for anyone other than Biden in the last election anywhere other than a solidly-blue state makes me very anxious.  So, I honestly don’t know.

But IRV (or, going by its new name, “ranked-choice voting” or RCV) solves all that.  With this system, if your #1 choice doesn’t have a chance in hell, that’s fine: your vote for the #2 choice still matters.  So I really don’t get why the media heaps all this derision on the whole concept.  (Of course, I never understood why the media heaped all their derision on Bernie Sanders either.  I mean, I understood why the Democratic Party did, and certainly some of that bled over into the media coverage, but you would think at some point someone would have to have the guts to stand up and say “hey, the idea that no one should have to die because they can’t afford health insurance is not a crazy idea that we should be laughing at” ... but that never happened.  Colbert couldn’t do it, Poundstone couldn’t do it, Kimmel and Fallon and Meyers couldn’t do it, and they’re all pretty famously liberal icons.  Trevor Noah came the closest, but I suspect that he’s about as anti-Democrat as he is anti-Republican: presumably due to his South African perspective.  Of course, Minhaj posits that anti-Bernie sentiment is also due to the winner-take-all system—back that video above up to about 12:18.  In this view, the media is just desperately piling onto Bernie because plurality rule combined with, shall we say, creative redistricting means that Bernie can’t possibly win, and therefore we all need to get behind the blandest possible candidate.  But I digress.^**)

The concept that IRV/RCV is complex for the person voting is just mind-boggling to me.  What’s your favorite food?  Okay, now what’s your second-favorite?  In other words, if you couldn’t have your first favorite—it’s not on the menu, or maybe the restaurant just ran out of it that night—what do you pick then?  This is so intrinsic to our human existence that explaining it is belaboring the point.  It’s like if I were to try to “explain” to you how to walk.  I might have to go into a lot of details about how your joints move, and how the myriad of bones in your ankles fit together just so, and the flexing of the muscles in the soles of your feet, and how you maintain your balance, and meanwhile you’ve already walked across the room and back five or six times.  You just know how, because it’s a thing you’ve been doing since you were first able to communicate with your parents—most likely before you could even properly talk.  No, you can’t have that thing that you’re trying to grab with your cute little baby fist.  Take this instead.

We could make a stronger argument that it’s complex at the other end, the part where you figure out who won.  But, the first thing to note is, you the voter don’t have to understand that part.  You vote, and then the winner gets announced.  Forget any ranked-choice anything: how much do you understand about voting “the old way”?  Do you know how write-ins work?  Do you know what a contested ballot is?  Do you know the technical details of how the votes are tallied?  Sadly, these things are getting more and more media attention as voting becomes more and more contentious, but I’ll still posit that most of you don’t know those things, and even if you think you do because you saw a news story about it, you probably still don’t, because the news story was likely wrong.  Also, it doesn’t matter whether you know the things or not: the winner is who the winner is, and, unless you’re one of the few people who has a political or legal connection to those election results, your knowledge or lack thereof makes exactly zero difference.

But let’s say we want transparency in our democracy, because transparency is always good, and so we want to understand how the results work even though we don’t have to.  Okay, fine: here it is.  You count everyone’s #1 votes.  Their #2 choices and #3 and so forth mean absolute squat.  You only look at the #1’s.  Does the person with the most votes have a majority (that is, more than 50% of the vote)?  If so, you’re done.  If not, all votes for the person with the least votes are eliminated.  If anyone picked that person as their #1, then their #2 is now their #1, and so forth—every choice just moves up a slot.  Now start over: count all the #1’s, other picks don’t count, does the candidate with the most votes have a majority?  Keep doing that till someone wins.  The end.

This is not a complex process.  If I wanted to adopt a less conversational tone, I could have used fewer words, but, even so, it’s pretty short.  IRV/RCV is about as “complex” as a baking recipe: there may be a lot of steps, and you have to do every step just so, but there’s nothing particularly difficult to grasp here.  It’s not calculus, or physics, or computer science.  Hell, I would consider most sports to be more complex than this stuff: try explaining to someone how basketball works in as few words as I just used.  Can’t be done, unless you leave out a lot of relevant details (i.e. the difference between a two-point shot and a three-pointer, or how fouls work).  There’s no details left out of the above explanation.  That’s literally all there is to it.

So what about this question about how long it takes to figure out the winner?  Well, first we should note that that, despite David Rees’ dire predictions, it did not take “months” for the winner of the New York City mayoral primary to be announced.  In fact, it took exactly two weeks (the primary voting closed on June 22 and the final results were announced on July 6).  And I would argue that it only took that long because the board of elections had a pretty major fuck-up in that time.  But suppose you think that even two weeks is too long to have to wait.  After all, we live in a culture that demands everything be faster: we want it all and we want it now.  One of my favorite observations on our modern world comes from science populist James Gleick’s book Faster:

Federal Express sold its services for “when it absolutely, positively has to be there overnight.” In the world before FedEx, when “it” could not absolutely, positively be there overnight, it rarely had to.  Now that it can, it must.

This is becoming more and more problematic with elections, because we’ve never known the results right away.  There’s a reason why “Dewey Defeats Truman” is one of the most famous photographs of the 20th century.  It’s supposed to be a cautionary tale about how our obsessive need for speed can lead us into false conclusions.  But somehow it’s become a meme about how newsapapers are stupid, and then we go back to throwing fits when we can’t find out who won the presidential election for a whopping 3½ days.  And the weird part is, most of this blowback is because of the rejection of electronic voting.  One of the major benefits of electronic voting was that we could get the results faster.  So most locations implmented that, and then people got used to getting results almost instantaneously.  And then there was this big backlash against electronic voting—and I’ll have to defer my opinions on how baffling that is for another post—so a lot of locations went back to counting things by hand, and now shit takes a long time again.  I think we just have to learn to deal with it.  Or else get over this completely overblown fear of electronic voting, because I can tell you from actual personal experience that a computer does not take months nor even days to calculate the winner of an IRV/RCV election: it takes seconds.  But, as I say, that’s a different post: the point is, if we want to believe that counting by hand is more secure, then we just have to accept that it’ll take longer, and that has little to do with whether we’re using ranked-choice systems or not.

I hope that more people will work to understand how easy ranked-choice voting is rather that just dismissing it with jokes and “commentary” that basically just boils down to “I know, right?” I think it really has the potential to change our political system for the better, and, quite honestly, it’s one of the few such things that I believe has any chance of actually being implemented.  It’s worth your time to look past the cheap shots and figure out what it can do for us as a country.

__________

* Specifically, from episode #95 (“All Hail the Harmonica Ripper”) which released on 5/25/2021 (starting at around 21:50).

** Or do I?

My 100th post about not posting ...

This week is another of those 3-day weekends my company is thoughtful enough to provide me.  In fact, I seem to have (accidentally or on purpose) managed to align my “short weeks” here on the blog with my “free Fridays” from $work.  A happy arrangement.  Anyhow, I’ve been working on catching up on a bunch of personal stuff, so no time for even a shorter post.  Tune in next week for something more substantial.  Probably.

Syncretism for the Masses

You know, sometimes you hear or see a discussion, and it makes you think about how you would respond if that topic were to come up in conversation.  Back in the old days, you would probably just wait for someone to bring it up at a party or somesuch.  Nowadays, you can write a blog post about it.

I was listening to Mayim Bialik’s Breakdown recently, and her guest was rabbi Steve Leder, who had some really fascinating things to say.  I particularly liked his point about not blaming all religious people for the actions of the religious extremists, which almost all of us tend to do (well, with all relgions except our own, of course).  I also enjoyed his rejection of biblical literalism and his explanation of the value of many religious practices that otherwise we might think of as frivolous or pointless.  It’s a great show, and you should probably listen to it (or watch it).

But naturally I didn’t agree with everything he had to say.  At one point, he opined:

... and in this business about “I don’t like organized religion,” I ask people: what would you prefer, disorganized religion?  Like, would you like your phone call never to be returned when you call the rabbi for your mother’s funeral?  Would you like your name to be wrong on everything?  ...  Come on, let’s think a little more deeply about these things.  I think that’s just a straw man.

What’s hilarious about this argument, of course, is that his argument is the true straw man.  The opposite of organized religion isn’t disorganized religion.  It’s individual religion, self-directed religion ... in other words, spirituality.  There’s quite a huge gulf between the pomp and cirumstance of the Catholic Church, for instance, and a Buddhist monk meditating alone for years on the nature of the universe.  Some people want to be a part of the large organization, and they’re willing to put up with the downsides—the bureaucracy, the potential for corruption, the chance that your problem might slip through the cracks, the ostracization of those who don’t fit the traditional ideas of how people should behave.  But other people—and I would argue more and more people in modern times—think that they don’t need the big organization to mediate between them and their higher power.

Thank goodness that show has Jonathan Cohen.  Listening to Mayim Bialik’s Breakdown is a bit like listening to Dead Can Dance.  (Yes, this is going to be a tortured metaphor, but bear with me.)  Most likely, you showed up because of Lisa Gerrard’s amazing voice, and sometimes it can be easy to forget about Brendan Perry, just because Gerrard’s vocals are so captivating.  You know he’s there in the background, doing stuff ... you’re just not thinking about it.  And then, all of a sudden, you stumble across “Black Sun” or “The Ubiquitous Mr. Lovegrove” and you’re like: whoa ... I’m so glad that guy is there.

So Cohen had my perspective’s back, and he followed up with this:

I think that’s what people mean when they talk about “disorganized religion” or, you know, when they ... not that I think they want disorganized religion, but I think what they’re saying, or what some people say when they’re like, “oh, I’m spiritual not religious” is that they’re looking for the connection points between all these faiths, which are all paths towards the same road, and they’re like, “okay, but, you know, the specifics of any particular path or dogma I can leave, but what I want are those ...”

And here Leder cut Cohen off:

But that’s not how it works.  You cannot separate the values from the specific vehicles that transport those values through society.  You can’t do it that way.  You know, you just can’t do it that way.  What you can do is assign equal value to these different paths.  ...  And so to dismiss all religion, and say “I don’t want the particulars, I just want the outcome” ... that is impossible.  It doesn’t work.

Which misses the point yet again, I think.  Luckily, Cohen was still with me, and not willing to let it go just yet:

I don’t think they want the outcome as much as they say “look: Buddhism has a variety of practices that are very positive and very helpful, and Judaism also has that ...  Again, just playing that other role, is that why can’t I have some of the Buddhist, some of the Judaism, some of those aspects, and why can’t I mix them together, and why does [sic] all of these paths have to be separate?

Yeah, Jonathan: you tell him!  Now, this is followed by a bit of a digression from Mayim, which I won’t repeat here because I thought she made some good points, but I didn’t agree with everything she said, but mostly I don’t want to get off on any more tangents than I’m already prone to.  But the main thing is, both Mayim and the rabbi make some (in my opinion unflattering) assumptions about people who say they are spiritual-not-religious, and I think that my perspective (and, I suspect, Cohen’s) is quite different from how they view us.

Certainly, some people are indicating that they are still Christian, or Jewish, or Muslim, or Buddhist, just without the need for the church (or temple, or mosque).  But I think more often people are indicating that they are truly agnostic, which is certainly my perspective.  Way back in my discussion of balance and paradox (which is really the one post on this blog you probably should read), I (half-jokingly) referred to myself as a “Baladocian.” If you’ll allow me the indulgence of self-quotation:

Primarily I do this because it sounds cool and it gives them something to chew on.  The truth is that I believe that all the major religions are right ... and they’re all wrong.  Heck, that probably applies to most of the minor religions too.  When it comes to Truth, you take it where you can find it, be that the Bible, the Tanakh, the Qur’an, the Upanishads, the Analects, the Tao Te Ching, Stranger in a Strange Land, or Cat’s Cradle.

Now, I moved on from that opening to discuss the intricacies of believing that two extremes are simultaneiously neither true and both true, which was the point of that post, after all.  But what I was alluding to in that last sentence is really the main thrust of this post, and it’s an actual concept called religious syncretism.  Now, syncretism itself is neither good nor bad (which should be an entirely unsurprising statement coming from the Baladocian); in fact, it can be quite negative, such as how the Greeks mostly won the mythology war by absorbing the Roman pantheon, even though the Romans were the actual conquerors, or how the Christians absorbed the pagan and druidic celebrations, which is how we ended up with Christmas trees and Easter bunnies.  But, then again, it can also be quite positive, which is what I was getting at when I said you have to take Truth where you can find it.  As someone whose approach to religion is, paradoxically (go figure), very logical, it only makes sense that to say that the concept that ideas from other cultures, other religions, other scriptures, cannot be correct just because we hadn’t heard them yet ... well, that’s just nonsensical.  It’s a bit conceited to imagine that all the people in the world who don’t wholly embrace your faith can’t be right about something.

The fact of the matter is that even spending a very small amount of time reading different religious texts should convince you that there are a lot of good ideas—even a lot of Truths—spread around in quite disparate doctrines.  There are things in the Tao Te Ching which just blew me away, and I know, in my heart, that they are True ... but I would not say that I’m a Taoist.  Likewise, there things that Jesus Christ said which are so profound and meaningful that I cannot ever deny them ... but I do not describe myself as a Christian either.  Of course, I think there are some pretty big Truths in works of fiction too, from Stranger in a Strange Land to Quantum Psychology, but I’m not gonna claim to be a “Heinleinian” or a “Wilsonian” either.  All those texts have problems.  None of them are perfect.  But they all have something important, and it just doesn’t make any sense to me to not try to synthesize them all into a cohesive picture of the universe.

In my opinion, a “proper” agnostic is a person who believes that there is something ordering the universe—that is, someone who rejects the explicit “everything happens due to random chance” attitude of the true atheist—but that we just don’t know exactly what it is.  I’ll go even further: I personally believe that it’s entirely possible—probable, even—that we can’t know exactly what it is, and that it’s silly to imagine we can.  I think that part of what it means to be human is to accept that and learn to be okay with it.  Contrariwise, that doesn’t mean you don’t try.  It’s another paradox, I know, but think of it this way:  You know you can never be perfect, right?  But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t always strive to be better.  No matter how good you are, you could always be better, and you should shoot for that ... even while recognizing that ultimate perfection is out of your reach.  Likewise, I believe that we should continuously strive to understand the universe, even though we must accept that we can never understand it all.  Same principle.

And, so, in our attempts to know the unknowable, why in the world would we handicap ourselves by limiting ourselves to only one religion?  It’s just silliness.  Well, the rabbi Leder has an answer for that as well:

I also think it’s disrespectful to other religions in this sense, okay?  They are not the same.  There are very profound differences between Judaism and Christianity and Buddhism; they are not the same.  They have the same goal, they have their own structures and rules to achieve that goal, but they are not the same, and some of their beliefs—despite how much in America we want to make a big party out of everything—some of their beliefs are antithetical to each other.  Period.  End of story.  And we are being dishonest and disrespectful to those religions when we pretend otherwise.

You know, this reminds me a of a passage from Extreme Programming Explained.  I read this book about midway through my programming career, and it really changed the way I approached my craft.  There were a lot of really radical ideas in there, and it made me rethink concepts I hadn’t even realized were ingrained in me.  But it also contains a bit of dogma here and there.  Starting right in the section entitled “What Is XP?”:

XP is a discipline of software development.  It is a discipline because there are certain things that you have to do to be doing XP.  You don’t get to choose whether or not you will write tests—if you don’t, you aren’t extreme: end of discussion.

I remember reading this and immediately saying “I reject that premise.” Now, possibly a lot of that has to do with my innate repudiation of authority, or indeed absolute statements in general.  I probably have a touch of oppositional disorder in my psyche, if I’m being honest.  But, also, those types of statements just never turn out to be factual.  I’ll avoid the absolute statement by rephrasing it this way: perhaps someday I’ll read about something where you have to do All The Things in order to be getting anything out of it and it’ll turn out to be true, but so far that day hasn’t come.  It wasn’t true for XP, as it turned out, and I just don’t believe it’s true for religion either.  I don’t have to do all the Jewish things to derive some value from Judaism.  And, furthermore, considering that rabbi Leder is a practitioner of Reform Judaism, I think his actions and his words are providing a bit of cognitive dissonance on this particular front.

I think it’s also worth noting that this concept of religious exclusivity—that is, I am a Jew therefore I cannot be a Christian, I am a Christian so therefore I cannot be a Muslim, etc—is distinctly a concept of the Western religions.  Now, obviously I am no expert on theology, but one of my favorite courses in college was taught by Dr. Young-chan Ro, and he is an expert on theology.  And what he taught me (among many other things) was that the Eastern religions, for the most part, have absolutely no problem with you belonging to several of them.  If you want to be a Hindu and a Buddhist and a Taoist, that’s fine.  It’s a peculiarity of those religions which share an Old Testament (probably because of the whole “thou shalt have no other gods before me” thing).  It’s a bit of a bummer, though, because I think it leads to a lot of us-vs-them mentality, which doesn’t help anyone.  It’s also very strange to me that Jews and Christians and Muslims are so canonically disposed to disregard each others’ beliefs even though they’re all worshipping the same god.  Why can’t we all just get along indeed?

So I take from all the religions at the same time I reject all the religions, and I believe in evolution at the same time I find William Peter Blatty’s discussion of the impossibility of it (in Legion) fascinating, and I reject several of rabbi Leder’s premises at the same time I think he makes some excellent points, and seriously made Judaism sound more attractive than any of the other faiths out there (ironic, since Jews famously don’t proselytize).  I say the “profound differences” are just the surface bits: the bits we should be ignoring.  We should be digging past all that, looking for the deeper meaning ... for the deeper Truth.  And we don’t have to adopt all the practices in order to mine that Truth.  I’m not saying the practices are useless—again, I think rabbi Leder was quite eloquent in explaining the value of many of those practices—but I do think they are there as a way to get us to the underlying Truths.  It’s easy to get caught up in the ceremony, but that’s just the floor show.  The real treasure is what lies beneath the glitz and the glitter.  And we should dig for as much of that as we can.

Independence from blogging, apparently ...

Well, today I’m in the midst of a four-day weekend, because Friday was another “free Friday” that my company is giving us this summer to celebrate surviving the pandemic, and Monday is of course a holiday (even though technically Independence Day is today).  Given all that, and given that, despite my best intentions, I actually did manage to post a (nearly) full post last week, I think I’m taking the week entirely off.  See ya next time.

Short-Form ... Long-Form ... I'm the Content with the Shiny Object

Have you ever been listening to an interview with someone, and they are asked a question, and you think: hey! I have an answer for that.  No?  Maybe it’s just me.

In any event, I was watching an interview with some Twitch streamers, and the interviewer asked why they thought long-form content had become so popular lately.  Many Twitch streams last for hours, and have an audience for the whole time.  You can go to Twitch and watch people play videogames, board games, tabletop roleplaying games, and you can watch them do it for a long time.  Even interviews on Twitch are an hour or two long, compared to the 5 – 10 minutes that you might get on a primetime or late night talk show.  And Twitch is not alone: podcasts can focus on one game or interview for hours, or have limited series that go on for dozens of hours of content.  Turning novels into 2 hour movies is passé: nowadays they are turned into multi-season televsion shows.  Of course, movies themselves are getting longer and longer ... an NPR article puts it like so:

Seven of the year-end top grossers released during the 1980s ran under two hours. But from 1991 to 2000, only three of the top earners were that compact.

Only two year-end box office champs this century have had sub-two-hour run times, and both were animated: Shrek 2 (2004) and Toy Story 3 (2010).

That article decided that movies are getting longer (at least in part) because they’re competing with long streams and television shows, which seems to be begging the question.  More interesting was the answer of the streamers in the interview that prompted this whole meditation: they decided that, in today’s world of being increasingly disconnected from each other, sometimes you just want to experience personal interaction vicariously.  It’s an interesting theory, and probably not entirely wrong.  But I had a different thought.

I’m just old enough to remember movies with intermissions.  They weren’t common even then; a holdover from the intermissions in plays or operas, which could last for 3 – 4 hours.  (Sure, some were shorter, but then some were even longer.)  Long-form content isn’t new, by any means: it’s old.  Like so many things, it’s destined to come around again.  These types of trends tend to be reactionary, in my opinion.

Becuase I’m also old enough to remember, much more clearly, the advent of MTV in the 80s and the growing popularity of quick cuts.  This even has a formal name, apparently: post-classical editing.  It was a stylistic choice, but somehow it became a mandate.  According to Wikipedia, Lawrence Kasdan said in a documentary “that the generation of people who grew up on MTV and 30 second commercials can process information faster, and therefore demand it.” This assumption that the modern audience can’t handle anything long-form without getting bored was so prevalent by the 90s that the brand new “Comedy Channel” (which would eventually become Comedy Central) even anchored its programming with a “show” named “Short Attention Span Theater,” whose title was, so far as I could tell, completely non-ironic.  What it actually was was small snippets of stand-up routines, because obviously no one had the brainpower to sit through a whole stand-up show, right?

Except that I challenge all this conventional wisdom.  Short-form content wasn’t what the audiences demanded.  It was just a reactionary fad, a way for the modern consumer to differentiate themselves from their parents and grandparents, who had sat through Wagner’s Götterdämmerung and Shakespeare’s Hamlet and even It’s a Mad Mad Mad Mad World and Lawrence of Arabia, both of which were 3½ hours or more long and written as recently as the 60s.  We were young and hip and cool, so we wanted more stuff packed into less time ... or at least that sounded cool, because it was different.  But you know what always happens: it’s only cool while it’s new, and once everyone is doing it, then it’s old hat and we want something different again.  The magic of “Short Attention Span Theater” (which I watched a lot of) was that you could experience a bunch of different comics in a short time.  The sheer quantity of people I was exposed to in that decade is completly unrivaled by any other time of my life.  But, the thing is, once I discovered someone I liked, I wanted to watch a whole show with them.  Five minutes of Bill Hicks is great, but two hours of Bill Hicks is fucking amazing.  So I thank SAST for all its contributions—not the least of which is introducing us to Jon Stewart—but it was never the endgame.  Just a vehicle to get us there.

And now the pendulum has swung back in the other direction.  Now people are just tired of little short snippets, and sound bites, and quick cuts.  We want substance, and nuance, and we’re perfectly willing to devote the time to get it.  So I think that is the truly the reason why long-form content is so popular now ... just as it was back in the “old” days.

Give it another couple of decades and there’ll be a hot new trend for watching everything at 1.5× speed, or watching two things at the same time, or somesuch.  Or maybe it’ll be simpler than that: maybe everything will go to Talk Soup style summary shows of the long-form content that no one wants to invest the time to actually watch themselves any more.  Who knows?  But time is a flat circle—although perhaps we don’t have to interpret that as pessimistically as True Detective’s Rust Cohle meant it—and everything will come ‘round again.  Eventually.

Paternal Indolence

Well, today is Father’s Day, and this past Friday was both a paid holidy (for Juneteenth) and one of the “free Fridays” that our company gave us off for surviving the pandemic, so I was instructed to relax twice as hard.  Sadly (for you), a double day off and Father’s Day in quick succession leaves little time for writing blog posts.  You’ll just have to try again next week.