Lip Gloss on Steroids

How many of you remember the Coolio 1994 hit “Fantastic Voyage” (which was actually borrowed from the 1980 song of the same name by Ohio-based funkadelics Lakeside)? The video was summer-beach party incarnate. The opening sequence, before the music starts, sees Coolio answer a call from his friend Spoon, who suggests the two of them get to the beach for a barbecue. Coolio’s frustrated response is: “How we gonna get there? We aint got no CAR!” Coolio slams down the phone and then mutters, “Fool.” As the music starts, a funked-out, masculine, magical fairy godfather appears and turns Coolio’s busted-ass bicycle into a completely pimped out convertible. Coolio and Spoon’s dilemma has been solved. They turn up their car stereo, gather all the ladies they can find (by loading them into a bottomless trunk as they cruise the town), and head on down to the beach for a summertime party. This is just but one example of a music video centered around a car, and it’s all-important kick ass stereo system.

How should we perceive music that is blared in public space? Is thundering out sounds from a car stereo while cruising at seven miles per hour through an urban center considered rude? Obnoxious? Or a permitted freedom of expression? Some people get very annoyed by any automobile that pumps bass out of its subwoofer loud enough to rattle the coffee pots on the local Starbucks as it creeps by. Others become impressed and awed at the sheer power of the stereo, the slickness of the vehicle, and the overall edge in the driver’s style and musical taste, rubbernecking towards the sound as if it was a bad car accident. But I wonder what of the intention of the driver? Is the volume and song for him only, and you are just a spectator that happens to catch the effects of being near enough to hear it? Or is he playing it for you—so you will listen and the decision has nothing to do with him at all?

Perhaps the more important question that needs to be asked psychologically is: what is the driver of the vehicle attempting to draw your attention to? Assuming we all agree that the loud stereo and slow cruising speed is calculated to make the public look at him and his car, the following question has to be: but for what reason? Is the driver trying to draw attention to: a) himself; b) his car; c) his stereo; d) the song; or e) a combination of all four? Why do some people spend so much money on car stereos? It is plainly not just for their (meaning the ‘drivers and passengers’) listening enjoyment, but it is so everyone around them can hear their music as well. Are they imitating a music video like the one described above? Are they attempting to relive something they think is cool from a memory in their younger days of other cars they witnessed while once walking along a street? Or is it just another ploy to get the attention of members of the opposite sex the same way birds sing, roosters crow, and crickets rub their legs.

Letting the public know what kind of music one likes is a fairly common expressive. The way someone dresses can say a lot about the ‘genre’ of popular culture to which they are attracted. Each type of music has its own “style” so to speak, and I think we would all agree that the Bronx hip-hop fan would probably dress differently than the Park Slope indie fan. The loud car stereo is a combination of being able to share with the world those likes and tell and show off the economic power one has to purchase expensive items that are not part of a ‘factory’ modeled component. Their car stereo is not intended for FM radio at moderate volumes. Furthermore, it imposes a specific sound (the style of music being listened to) onto the rest of the community. This gives voice to a particular subsection of society that may otherwise be viewed as unimportant or subversive. In other words, it is a, “I am here” statement. “Listen up. Pay attention to me and hear what I have to say.”

Finding ways to draw attention to oneself is nothing new in our culture. Lip-gloss that shines, body glitter that sparkles, shoes that raise heights, hair color that stands out as not being natural, these are all subliminal social practices and decisions we make that help others around us take notice and subconsciously classify us. There is a lot that we do in our society that subconsciously falls into the category of “daily routine” so that people will observe our existence. Choosing to install an Alpine iDA-X305 into your Honda Civic and then turning the volume of your newest K’naan album up to -14dBs while puttering around the main drag by the beach is not a subconscious effort at all—it is extremely conscious. Sure, it may be something practiced only by the overly extroverted, but it is just another form of self-expression and nothing more or less.

So, if you are like me, and you find yourself annoyed with the vehicle that sits at the red light with its stereo blasting at the sound level of a jet engine, try not to be so bothered. The driver is doing nothing wrong, and in a way it is just another form of hair dye or lip-gloss on steroids.

Grew Vision: The Art (4:06)

We’re going to dance.

Your mind is going to dance.

(that’s right)

Were going to dance, and have some fun.

It’s 1990 and you just backed out of your laneway on a quiet Sunday morning to go for a drive. Twist on the radio knob and you catch this bass line you have never heard before.

Dig.

“Is this disco?” you ask yourself. “Disco on a Sunday morning?”

It sounds like a party that you want to be at. Timpani bongos get your feet tapping on the gas pedal. You notice some background conversation of dancers as they prepare for their assault on a dance floor in your brain. You turn left at the stoplight to get in the right state of mind. You’re starting to groove.

I couldn’t ask for another. I,I,I,I..

No I couldn’t ask for another.

“Who is that singing?” you say to yourself. “That voice--it’s so familiar.” The groove by now has entered your morning brain space like the odor of baked cookies from a memory when you were five. Sing it baby.

You reach down to turn up the stereo and take a right at the bakery. As you begin to shake your shoulders in the driver’s seat you remind yourself that there is this park on the edge of town you and your club-pals used to go to at seven in the morning after a serious night of raving. You wonder if it is still the place to be. You recall playing The Pet Shop Boys, Joy Division, Kraftwerk and wearing glow-in-the-dark bracelets. You remember what it was like to dance for nine hours straight. You were feeling old when you got up this morning, but not anymore. Lady Miss Kier has just brought you back to life.

Groove is in the heart.

Waiting for the red light to turn green, you spot a twenty-something out for an early morning walk with her tiny poodle. She is dressed in a one piece spandex outfit that fits so tightly around her body you think it could have been painted on. It’s bold diamond shapes of green, red, and yellow jump out at you like flowers on a clown’s balloon trousers. But she's not to be laughed at.

Cow-bell solo.

Now in both ears.

Watch out.

Her strawberry-blonde hair is slicked back tight and held in place by a thick black headband that makes her forehead appear bigger than it is. She notices you looking at her and stops. In a daring smile, she raises her arms above her head like she is about to take flight. Taunting you to get out of your car, she bends her knees and shakes her ass to the rhythm of your stereo. You want to dance with her. It’s as if you remember her. I’ve been told; she can’t be sold.

She’s not vicious, or malicious. Just de-lovely, and delicious.

Watching her on the corner, you think to yourself that there is no way she could be dancing for another.

And then she pauses. Her groove is exchanged for swank. Rap interlude:

This new mix will define the fresh decade. This is Brooklyn in 1990. Rapping and spinning; dancing and grooving. The beats, the electricity, the groove; it’s all flowing. It’s funk and it’s disco. It’s rap and it’s electric. Four teens stumble along the sidewalk drunk and disheveled. You remember what it was like to watch the sunrise for the first time. You recall getting high and dancing for nine hours straight. Your mind flashes back to a time when you owned music that no one else had heard before. That innocence is something you wish you could get back to. Drugged up and drunk, sweating on the carpet, laughing with good friends without judgment. What ever happened to moral-free evaluation?

You crank up the stereo once again.

Baby, just sing about the groove.

Groove is in the heart.

You drive by the wanderlust and her dog determined to get to the park now. You have forgotten what it is like to feel music rather than just hearing it. Turn right at the end of your town’s main drag and you see a large barn that you don’t ever remember being there. There are piles of cars parked out front and you can hear the drone of multiple voices screaming and shouting over a loud amplifier. As if some greater force is guiding the steering wheel, you turn into the long laneway towards the barn. The music and voices grow louder in your ears. And then--

Pop.

Snap your fingers.

One-two-three…

“Break it down brass section: I’m walkin’ into this dance party,” you tell yourself. The scene is nothing like you have ever witnessed before. Hundreds of kids wearing outrageous costumes; dancing without a care in the world. You’re dressed too plainly but no one seems to mind. Smiles welcome you. You develop a swagger you didn’t know you had. Introduction through body movement. One young man leans into you and winks:

“Groove--is in your heart.”

There comes her voice again. For a moment you debate looking for its source. And that’s when you realize--it’s not an external song at all, it’s internal. The song you heard is in your head. As you rave on you remember the car stereo hasn’t worked for months. You can’t stop dancing. You look all around the barn and you can’t find a DJ or amp or tables or speakers anywhere. This song won’t stop playing and you can’t stop grooving. No one can. But there is no music in the room. It’s inside of you; it’s inside everyone else.

The bass line fades. You can’t wait to hear what your mind is going to play next. The young man laughs, “C’mon y’all. Y’all look crazy, man.”

You agree. And you love it.

The Marriage Between Music & Sports

It is past mid September already, and as summer washes into fall more and more each day, a lot of us are ending with the summertime fun and falling into the traditions of autumn. In America, there is one pastime that is as synonymous with fall as winter is to Christmas--the good ol’ game of football. Now what does a radio station that features break out bands in New York City have anything to do with football? The answer is, “not much;” at least not on the surface anyhow. BreakThru Radio does not even have a sports section, let alone any programming dedicated to sports news. This week’s edition of Liner Notes does not seek to give you a top ten list of 2010’s college football teams, debate the NFL’s upcoming games, or discuss who I think will win the World Series of Baseball. What I do intend to do is to make you think of the relationship between sports and music in a way that perhaps you haven’t before.

Arguably, sports and music account for one-half of the four institutions that most greatly effect and influence modern popular culture (fashion and technology being the other two). So what is the relationship between these two faculties? How does one play off the other? Are they interrelated, or are they two separate customs that have nothing to do with one another?

Sports, specifically college sports, have come to incorporate popular music into everything they do. Music is played by the bands at half time; during the warm-ups it is used to motivate the athletes; and sound clips from the day’s current top forty are inserted during breakage of play to keep the level of intensity and excitement high in the stands. Whether you are aware of it or not, music and sports are tightly braided pair.

One of the leading academic experts on the matter is University of Toronto musicology professor Kenneth McLeod. Pointing out in many articles how “music and sports connect in a number of ways: aesthetics, marketing approaches, and performance strategies,” McLeod asserts that the relationship between sports and music is a way many societies “construct gender and racial identity.” The role of pop music in sports, and vice versa, subconsciously assists in the creation of masculine and feminine roles in our society as well as separate and tie racial identities. Hip-Hop--Basketball--Black; Country--Nascar--White; Cheerleading--Football--Feminine. These are all samples of what McLeod is referring to.

Let me give you another example. Think of a recent Nike or Gatorade advertisement you saw on T.V. Now ask yourself not only how these companies use music to sell their product, but also how the music chosen creates the image of a professional athlete. Popular music is a marketing tool that is wisely used to inspire its viewer. A viewer will watch the sixty-second spot and make a subconscious connection between the athlete/sport and the music being played. What emerges is a blending effect, or what McLeod refers to as “sport-rock crossover” (although I would argue the connection goes beyond the genre of rock and into the other genres as well). For those of you who work out, how many of you do it to music and why do you think that is? Is it because you aim to imitate the image of your favorite athlete you saw on the Gatorade commercial? Or is it because the Gatorade commercial inspired you to workout and you imagined your workout to be just like the one you saw in the commercial?

Moving beyond advertising, how many of you have ever been to a live sporting event? Was there a band? Did the fans involve themselves in chanting or singing hometown ra-ra songs? Did the MC of the game play popular tracks in between plays and periods? Perhaps more prominent in soccer than any other sporting culture is the existence of the fan-chant; the world recognized “Olé” being the strongest example. In a lot of college football games here in the U.S., marching bands have recently evolved to include a mix of traditional marching songs with modern day popular tracks. Just look at this video of the Delaware State University marching band doing a medley of “Sweet Dreams” by Beyoncé, “One” by Mary J. Blige, “Death of Autotune” by Jay-Z, and “Boom, Boom, Pow” by the Black Eyed Peas as a prime example.

The last thing I will say on the matter is about the relationship between music and racial identity. Because I was a football player in college, the locker room is a scene I know all too well: one stereo; sixty young men from all different walks of life who are all trying to get jacked up at the same time for the same event. When I was playing ball, it was a constant battle between my black teammates wanting to hear DMX’s “What’s My Name” and my white teammates wanting to hear “Break Stuff” by Limp Bizkit. Of course what happens over the course of a season as a team bonds with one another, is that both songs come to motivate both groups of players and a cultural or racial fusion occurs. Sports and music bring together black and white. A little cliché for today’s time, I know, but this phenomenon has been around since the fifties and sixties and has played a major role in the coming together of two groups of people (look at the film Remember the Titans as an example).

So if you are a big music fan, and care nothing for sports, that’s fine. But don’t think that the music you make, or the music you like, doesn’t have an effect on athletes and the culture in which you live. Sports culture is massive all around the world, and what becomes popular in music sometimes does so because of a giant push from sports. Even ultimate indie hipsters in their skinny jeans and horizontally striped French navy tank tops can’t bypass the relationship between the two. As strange as it may be, world’s apart in style, there is still a common denominator between the Dallas Maverick fan and the Arcade Fire fan.

Why Not the Techno?

A good friend of mine recently returned to New York after spending a few summer months in Beirut where her family is from. As we sipped on our vodkas catching up, Dâna was telling me how much partying she did over the summer in Lebanon and just how much of a rage Beirut’s club scene is.

“Kory,” she says to me settling into a curious tone, “you’re the music man. I want you to tell me why America sucks in club music compared to the rest of the world. Like, why are we so far behind everyone else? The whole world plays these amazing songs that are so incredible to dance to, and everyone else from all over the globe knows them, except us. Why is that?”

“Like what?” I ask.

She responds, “Have you ever heard of ‘We No Speak Americano’ by Yolanda Be Cool and D Cup?”

“Nope.”

“What about ‘Alors On Dance’ by Stromae?”

“Nope.”

“Well, you should check them out. They’re really good. And no one here knows them. But everywhere else, they’re massive hits. What’s with us?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, find out for me.”

Alright, there are a couple of problems that need to be identified right away. The two most obvious ones are my age and my specific, personal taste in music. I am thirty-three-years-old and have not been to a “club” in probably three years. In addition, even though I passively like Techno/Electronica/Dance/Club or whatever rubric you want to name it, I fully admit that I am not one to be “in the know” about what is out there right now and what is being played or listened to by majority of its listeners. Nevertheless, the argument I present here, and the question Dâna seeks answered, is still a valid query, regardless of my own personal ignorance on the subject. A case in point was Sunday night’s MTV Video Music Awards.Here in America, categories range from Art Direction, to Editing and Collaboration, to Break Through Artist. Winners were Lady Gaga, Justin Bieber, Eminem, Florence and the Machine, Beyoncé, Jay-Z, Alicia Keys, Muse, and The Black Keys. Where’s the Techno?

Florence and the Machine

I recognize that there is a large Techno/Electronica culture here in America,but there is no debating that it certainly is not as mainstream in popularity, or receives the recognition it deserves from youth culture, as it does throughoutthe rest of the world. There is no way that I would be able to answer Dâna’s question in complete confidence without devoting a detailed, historical and cultural study into the matter, which I don’t have the time to do. But I can hypothesize.

The best educated guess I can make is that America has a deep-rooted relationship with African-influences when it comes to its popular musical history. This is a relationship that Europe and the rest of the developed world simply do not share. This two hundred year-old influence is the foundation tothe modern, popular American music that maintains supremacy over the charts and airwaves.

American cultural restructuring during the twentieth century, especially afterWorld War Two, has been very different than Europe’s. The Civil Rights Movement forced the U.S. to recognize the significance of African-American culture as a fundamental part of the genetic makeup of American identity. Music became a major player in this shift, and what used to be viewed as subordinate entertainment was all of a sudden becoming “cool.” (The very word “cool” itself is taken from a description of certain jazz forms that werebeing introduced in the 1950s. Just look at Miles Davis’ 1957 The Birth of Cool.) Ironically enough, the revolution of Rock and Roll was mainly thanks to British musicians who began to recognize, and emulate, the genius of the African-American blues traditions, drawing attention to the purity and complexity of the African-American folk song.

On the other hand, many of the European countries sought to move in the complete opposite direction—especially Germany. While America was rediscovering its forgotten history in the enlightenment of Civil Rights, Germany was trying to reinvent a culture that separated itself from pre-war identities. Right up into the 1990s when Eastern Europe was literally re-mapped, societies sought to establish new traditions in effort to distance themselves from ostracized national preconceptions. What better way to do this than though music?

Tangerine Dream

Technology advanced quickly through the seventies, eighties, and nineties. Germany was advancing into the ‘synth’ world (look at the popular rise and global influences of Kraftwerk and Tangerine Dream) ahead of everyone elseand the UK began to separate itself from America’s dominant shadow as the leader in international cultural popularity (look at Manchester’s early eighties club scene and the influences of Joy Division and the Factory Records empire). Another factor that helped further distance the U.S. from the new techno-craze was the invention of a new genre of music that stood to represent, once again, the African American portion of its culture: Rap and Hip-Hop.

It goes without saying that the influences of American music, whether it be Jazz, Blues, Country, Rock and Roll, or Hip-Hop have spread all over the world. The 1900s was America’s century. And like the proud cool kid in high school, it is expected that the subalterns should imitate you, not you them. But the rest of the world is catching up and has been over the last twenty to thirty years. New artists are confident to play their own style of music and don’t care whether or not their music is popular in America.

But Dâna’s right, isn’t it time we start caring back?

September 11th on WKCR

Tomorrow is September 11th, nine years after the infamous attacks on New York and Washington D.C. Serendipitously, I will be DJ'ing my American Blues show "Something Inside Of Me" on WKCR 89.9FM New York. I take it as an honor to DJ in this city, on a day when nine years ago so many people turned to radio for comfort.

In typical Kory fashion, I am putting my own spin on the show. Bob Dylan has an album called "Love & Theft" that was released on the morning of September 11th, 2001. Essentially, the album is exactly what it's title says it is: songs from the American tradition that he loves, and steals. A lot of the songs are rooted in the Blues. What I plan to do tomorrow is to play the songs form the album in their original format, and then immediately follow it up with the Dylan version that was released on September 11th, 2001.

If anyone holds interest in this, and would like to listen to the show, you can tune in at 89.9FM for those of you in New York. Others can listen by clicking here. Alternatively, you can listen through iTunes Radio by clicking on the "Radio" tab -- "College/University" -- "WKCR."

Hope you tune in.

Campus Cash-In

It is during this week alone, that so many young people will hear a song they will remember for the rest of their lives.

Frosh Week -- Queen's University -- Kingston, Ontario, Canada

What was the song of your “freshman year?” For me, it was “One Headlight” by the Wallflowers. I was nineteen-years-old had just moved 970 miles from my hometown. Before I could count “one-two-three Marlenas,” I was living in small-town Nova Scotia where I knew but one person. It makes sense now to think that the album being played all over that specific east coast Canadian campus was full of a folkie, chilled-out, dreamy-eyed Jakob Dylan voice with soft drum taps and simple bass line. This was typical of Canadian flavor. I am also now certain that this was not the freshman blow-up album all over North America in September 1996; but it makes sense in the land of Acadian driftwood. For the rest of my life, as long as my mind doesn’t fail me, whenever I hear the Wallflowers album Bringing Down the Horse I will think of that first fall spent away from home and in the independence of college campus life.

There is no arguing that music is associative to memory. Some musicologists argue that the entire human attraction to music is alone based upon the principle that it evokes memory. This article is not set out to argue either way on the subject. I will say, however, that it is without doubt that memory and music are a tightly braided pair. Often, a song makes us feel joy or sorrow depending on the circumstances in which we first hear it. That being said, this is a crucially important week in the pop music industry.

I don’t think there will be any arguing about what the song from last year’s class was. Perhaps as a cheeky stunt to gain approval on class evaluations, an American history professor of mine began his final lecture, titled “Since we began: American History & What Has Changed During the Time Span of this Course,” by playing Empire State of Mind.” This was the song of school-year '09-10. His point was obvious and well made. Exactly what has transpired in this country since we first got together eight months ago? Students all around the lecture room began to smile, nod their heads, some slight female shrieking ensued, some of the more flamboyant students danced and sang along, and the football boys punched each other in the arms and chests in approval. I wonder how many of them, at that exact moment, realized that for the rest of their lives they will always associate Jay-Z and Alicia Keys with their freshman year of college?

"Empire State of Mind” was released in October 2009. Coincidence? That is the precise question this article aims to ponder. How many artist managers, publicists, and major label executives intentionally release singles during the early months of the school year? Landing a spot on the short list of the “that song reminds me so much of freshman year” chart can result in massive revenue. Humans, especially adolescents who are discovering their independence for the first time, subconsciously search for motifs of familiarity to help them better recognize and assimilate to their new surroundings. A common appreciation for a newly discovered song will build friendships and create a flocking bond among independent fledglings. Don’t for a second think music producers don’t already know this and aren’t out to cash in on this subliminal psychological hunt.

I don’t know what song this year’s massive hit will be. I am pretty sure it won’t be the same tune all across the country. The freshman sensation from University of Oregon will probably be different from the one that is going to take off at Texas Tech and they will most likely both be different from NYU’s. But the opportunity is there. This week and for the next three or four weeks especially, campus bars all across the nation (even the world for that matter) will be trying out new tracks that record labels are just hoping is going to be the one--that song which will forever be considered “the song of my freshman year.” And that stands to make some people a lot of money. For others, it will plant an eternal memory of a time they can nor will ever want to forget.

Welcome back students. Go find the song that will define your year here.