It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back

In case anyone's wondering how Public Enemy gave way to Lester Bangs, you've got to scroll back about a hundred posts--there's an NPR intern in there somewhere, and it went from there.

What we need to resolve the Bangs question is for the dead Lester to interview...the dead Lester, like he did with Hendrix. I know what Levitt means about the all-consuming dividing line, but I just have to believe that Bangs was inevitably going to find his way back to the other side, although I'm not sure in what form. (He was in the process of setting out to write his first novel, right?) He was an obsessive--he seemed like such a different creature than Maslin and most of the other Stranded contributors. One development that seemed made-to-order for Bangs was file-sharing. He wrote that one thing once about wanting to own every record ever made--"catacombs" of them, I think he said. Depending upon how attached to the physical object he was--he did say he wanted to be surrounded by all these records, so maybe the digital equivalent was a non-starter--file-sharing would have been about the best chance he'd ever get.

I'm 50. Still cling to the old records, still hear a decent enough amount of new stuff that excites me to keep me semi-engaged. I try really hard to avoid concluding that the stupid pop music of today is any stupider than the stupid pop music I loved in 1972 or 1987. Not hearing too too much of it probably helps in that regard.

yeah i should say that my love for pop and rap and r&b and stuff like that on the radio hasn't diminished at all. i love lots of new stuff i've heard i just don't listen to it a LOT. whereas i will listen to hundreds and hundreds of old records (that i've never heard)every year.

i think writing about music every week or month for years though...yeah, i couldn't do it i don't think. not full-time. i would get burnt. i'm sure of it.

unless you are a he-man like charles nelson eddy.

that really should be his middle name...

my new neighbors' Wifi network is called Fear of a Black Planet

it takes a WPA2 password to hold us back

I don't write for a living, for better or worse. But an undeniable, welcome consequence of aging is I don't want to own every record or single ever produced; that appetite wanes every year. I'll still get jags though: on Thursday night I wanted to d/l every old Siouxsie album.

scott and clem, if you want to hear and write about new music without buying it I'd love to see you both contribute to the Singles Jukebox.

With few exceptions I have been behind the times my whole life on music, although digging backwards all the time I sometimes end up with a surprising affinity for the present. Mostly I'm out of it, and would make a befuddled, easily ridiculed current-music-reviewer.

Thanks, Alfred--Kogan mentioned the same about a year back. But, echoing Vic's post above, my out-of-touchness would be a problem. Even in my year-end ballot last year, I wrote something about some Canadian band being ninth-generation Beastie Boys that could only have been written by someone not paying close enough attention to realize they were in fact day-old LMFAO. Still love the song I was writing about, but six months later the botched comparison makes me roll my eyes.

Whenever I start thinking about this subject (not PE but current pop) I always end up asking myself the same question: how important is originality anymore?

on Seattle's KEXP tomorrow, streaming on KEXP.org, 12 hours of deconstructing Nation Of Millions: every song sampled, interviews with Chuck and Hank, commentary from Ish of Shabazz Palaces & Digable Planets, further commentary from Professor Daudi Abe.

Dave Segal at the Stranger:

Millions is a mind-boggling agglomeration of funk, rock, soul, old-school hiphop, impassioned passages from speeches (by Malcolm X, Jesse Jackson, Khalid Abdul Muhammad), mantric vocal loops, and motherfuckin' Slayer on "She Watch Channel Zero." People who dismiss sampling as "cheating" or not "real music"—these types still exist in 2018—need to understand that what the Bomb Squad did here is just as artful as any other approach to music-making.

The arranging and rhythmic skills that went into Millions are impressively intricate, and the Bomb Squad's action-packed tapestries involve much more than just looping beats and letting them run unaltered throughout entire tracks. Rather, they created mosaics of crate-diggers' secret (and not-so-secret) weapons that blossomed into catalytic jams that doubled as party-starters and sociopolitical manifestos. The Bomb Squad—along with Chuck D and Flavor Flav's penetrating lyrics, of course—optimized these disparate atoms of sound/noise into careening vehicles of excitement. We shan't hear its like again—mainly because of the punitive legal consequences of such prolific sampling, but also due to diminishing ambitions.

David Schmader cogently summarized Millions in these pages back in 2006: "It was terrifying. Over what would become the band's signature audio hurricane—compressing the wildest exertions of free jazz into harsh layered beats to create the densest, most intense racket ever made in the name of pop music—Chuck D laid out his explicitly political call to revolutionary action, with a righteous fury that, to this white American, felt inevitable and historic."

(from 6am, Pacific time: https://www.kexp.org/publicenemy30/ )

PE's outrage feels more relevant than ever

otm, sadly

five hours in, seven to go, up to Caught, Can I Get A Witness