This is the first time in a few years I haven’t had at least a wristband for SXSW, whether through legitimate hookups at the radio station or less savory means. This year I guess I’m just not cool enough, so I figured I’d give it a shot without one – but that’s looking increasingly futile. Last night I biked all the way down to Emo’s to see if I would perhaps be permitted to pay the exorbitant cover to see the Rhymesayers showcase – but no dice, it was wristbands and badges only. So I had one of those moments where you stand around for a minute, trying to look like you’re thinking about something really hard, because you don’t want to be the chump who gets turned away. It wasn’t too big a disappointment, really, as the only people on the lineup I hadn’t seen before were the Micranots – and besides, they weren’t going to let me bring a camera in.
Still, I considered buying a wristband (and actually thought about it for a while afterward), but even though I can afford it I really can’t justify the expenditure. The only two shows I really, really want to see are Dizzee Rascal and TV on the Radio. If I bought a wristband, I would be paying $60 each to get into these shows, which I wouldn’t be willing to pay if Jesus Christ came to town to rock the mic. So I guess it’s just after parties and day events for me this year. I’ll be doing a post daily about my exploits, though hopefully the rest of them will be a bit more exciting.
The highlight of my evening was that most of my route home was shared by a stunning young lady who, it seemed, had run into the same sort of disappointment as me. I really wish I’d taken the opportunity to commiserate/chat her up, but my game’s just not that tight. Anyway, girl in the cat’s eye classes and red-checked dress, you are literally perfect, and your mere presence saved what would’ve been an otherwise dreary evening. I was the guy in the baby blue t-shirt getting hypnotized by your awesomeness.
Incidentally, it’s been brought to my attention that my name is not obvious on this page. My name is David. Have fun with that.
Thursday, March 18, 2004
Tuesday, March 16, 2004
Sasha vs. The South
I'm not sure how I missed Mystikal's recent six-year sentence for forcing his hairstylist to perform sex acts on he and his bodyguards. But it does explain what that hissing and popping sound was - Jessica Hopper and Sasha Frere-Jones burning their "Shake Ya Ass" 12 inches. Though given S/FJ's recent feminist cave-yowl re: Lil' Flip (in a review of Timbaland and Magoo, that's how pissed he is), I imagine he'd been keeping that one way in the back of the bin already, sneaking it out when the kids were at their aunt's, maybe doing a little Tom Cruise down the wood grain. In public, though, he threatens to "discount your beats if your MC is a jerk who asks a woman to do anything against her will." I think what he meant to say was "coerce", since "asking" has to work pretty hard to be morally objectionable. Then again, maybe it wasn't a slip - apparently SF/J also believes that when, say, Mystikal encourages his female listeners to shake it fast, or when Lil' Jon sends ladies to the window, then the wall, they're treating said ladies "like Kleenex." Thanks for the heads up, I had no idea.
I'm not gonna say that there's not plenty of misogyny in Flip and Lil' Jon's respective ouevres (sp?), or that misogyny is anything but vile, but I do have two points. First of all, I don't think that men encouraging women to enjoy their sexuality is evil or manipulative. Of course, the fact that so many of these songs are ostensibly about strippers makes things pretty dicey, since there's such debate over much control and power women in that position have - and I would gamble that women in the sorts of clubs Lil' Jon frequents have less than the median amount of flexibility and choice regarding how they make a living. But if you look at how the songs play in your average danceclub, it's not nearly as complicated. Nobody's forcing girls to get nasty to these songs - but trust me, they do, and some of them love it. We can talk about the submission and dominance patterns that infect society and make some girls (and some guys, don't forget) act and think that way, but by condemning them outright doesn't help anybody - and that's pretty much what you're doing when you condemn their music.
Which brings up the second point: simply harping on this stuff is just so easy that it quickly becomes really fucking boring, and despite the good intentions behind it I don't think it's the best way to have an impact. I love Sasha's writing, but the title "cultural critic" doesn't mean you just point out things that are bad, like some scolding old maid, it means you analyze and take it apart and help people understand it. Certainly part of that understanding should be a knowledge of artists' moral failings, both in their art and life, but condemning their morality and consigning their entire body of work to the dustbin are two very different things. The former is part of the work of criticism, and the latter is a near-complete abdication of critical responsibility. Especially when you're talking about pop music, which has for centuries been one long highwire act along the line between deviance and criminality, between misogyny and benign fleshly pleasure. Simply smacking someone on the hand for leaning a bit too far to one side is hardly to the point.
Jessica Hopper isn't subject to the same critique, since she clearly and unabashedly occupies the role of polemicist, and talks about everything from a very personal perspective. And I'm already risking pissing her off enough as it is. But Sasha's supposed to be telling us about culture, and while his own beliefs are part of that and inevitably inform it, he's doing nobody favors by completely ignoring/dismissing the millions of people who obviously find forced sex and strip clubs no big deal (see the pretty horrendous thread about Mystikal at hiphopsite). What's going on out there? Why are we seeing this stuff everywhere? That's an interesting question, while calling out rappers for talking ill of women is fish in a barrel.
By the by, I'll also venture to guess that Sasha's missed Ying Yang's "Naggin'." When you actually listen to that track, the lyrics are pretty shockingly vulnerable and real – instead of being set in a strip club with the waterguns and poles and such, it's about an actual relationship, and a man who gets walked all over. This in itself isn't so unusual I guess, but the debate that the dude goes through after he's been cuckolded – "Will I get back with her? Prooobably." – is a pretty stunning role reversal. Instead of a world where both guys and girls are unrepentant liars and cheaters, here the Ying plays it straight, and even when he gets knocked around, he thinks about giving it another go – granted, not out of nobility, but out of some vague sense of being trapped, which gives the song a nice little kicker of the bittersweet. And I'm not listening to it right this second, but I think the worst name that gets slung around is "trick," and it's only out there once. Bad enough, but hopefully not enough to merit getting discounted.
I'm not gonna say that there's not plenty of misogyny in Flip and Lil' Jon's respective ouevres (sp?), or that misogyny is anything but vile, but I do have two points. First of all, I don't think that men encouraging women to enjoy their sexuality is evil or manipulative. Of course, the fact that so many of these songs are ostensibly about strippers makes things pretty dicey, since there's such debate over much control and power women in that position have - and I would gamble that women in the sorts of clubs Lil' Jon frequents have less than the median amount of flexibility and choice regarding how they make a living. But if you look at how the songs play in your average danceclub, it's not nearly as complicated. Nobody's forcing girls to get nasty to these songs - but trust me, they do, and some of them love it. We can talk about the submission and dominance patterns that infect society and make some girls (and some guys, don't forget) act and think that way, but by condemning them outright doesn't help anybody - and that's pretty much what you're doing when you condemn their music.
Which brings up the second point: simply harping on this stuff is just so easy that it quickly becomes really fucking boring, and despite the good intentions behind it I don't think it's the best way to have an impact. I love Sasha's writing, but the title "cultural critic" doesn't mean you just point out things that are bad, like some scolding old maid, it means you analyze and take it apart and help people understand it. Certainly part of that understanding should be a knowledge of artists' moral failings, both in their art and life, but condemning their morality and consigning their entire body of work to the dustbin are two very different things. The former is part of the work of criticism, and the latter is a near-complete abdication of critical responsibility. Especially when you're talking about pop music, which has for centuries been one long highwire act along the line between deviance and criminality, between misogyny and benign fleshly pleasure. Simply smacking someone on the hand for leaning a bit too far to one side is hardly to the point.
Jessica Hopper isn't subject to the same critique, since she clearly and unabashedly occupies the role of polemicist, and talks about everything from a very personal perspective. And I'm already risking pissing her off enough as it is. But Sasha's supposed to be telling us about culture, and while his own beliefs are part of that and inevitably inform it, he's doing nobody favors by completely ignoring/dismissing the millions of people who obviously find forced sex and strip clubs no big deal (see the pretty horrendous thread about Mystikal at hiphopsite). What's going on out there? Why are we seeing this stuff everywhere? That's an interesting question, while calling out rappers for talking ill of women is fish in a barrel.
By the by, I'll also venture to guess that Sasha's missed Ying Yang's "Naggin'." When you actually listen to that track, the lyrics are pretty shockingly vulnerable and real – instead of being set in a strip club with the waterguns and poles and such, it's about an actual relationship, and a man who gets walked all over. This in itself isn't so unusual I guess, but the debate that the dude goes through after he's been cuckolded – "Will I get back with her? Prooobably." – is a pretty stunning role reversal. Instead of a world where both guys and girls are unrepentant liars and cheaters, here the Ying plays it straight, and even when he gets knocked around, he thinks about giving it another go – granted, not out of nobility, but out of some vague sense of being trapped, which gives the song a nice little kicker of the bittersweet. And I'm not listening to it right this second, but I think the worst name that gets slung around is "trick," and it's only out there once. Bad enough, but hopefully not enough to merit getting discounted.
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