It's Not You, It's Me

I try to keep an open ear to all music but there are some bands I just don't get. Critically lauded bands. Musicians with legions of die hard fans who promote their songs on blogs and fill mixtapes with their music and spread the gospel like hardcore devotees are won't to do. And I try and I try and I try some more but I just don't hear what's so special. What am I missing?

Deerhoof is a perfect example. This band reminds me of the unholy offspring of the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion and anime for children. It seems amateurish and silly and entirely disposable yet review after review talks about how innovative and amazing they are. They have a song about basketball that Listmaker included on his latest volume and it confounds me just like the rest of their songs do but nothing is as odd as "Panda Panda Panda." This is what melts the heart of cynical critics nationwide?

Panda Panda Panda - Deerhoof

Another group I have no love for is the Hold Steady but apparently I'm an army of one when it comes to the ugliest band in America. I guess people love songs about young people drinking and fumbling around in the back seats of cars, making mistakes that they'll later regret. The Hold Steady allow the audience to relive the ugly and awkward periods of their life while pumping their fists and downing beer after beer. The music is competent but I just don't hear anything special here, especially in the nearly slam poetic vocal delivery of Craig Finn.

Stuck Between Stations - The Hold Steady

The latest group to bewilder and stun me is TV on the Radio. I liked some of their earlier songs but everything I've heard off of Dear Science sounds absolutely terrible to me. When I heard most of the album previewed on Bill Slammon's Saturday Morning show I thought, "Well, they've obviously lost whatever talent they had before and went off and made a crushing disaster of an album." But then it debuted at #12 on the Billboard charts and earned them near universal acclaim. What was I missing? The songs sounds like to many genres thrown in a blender and mixed until undrinkable. They were on SNL this past weekend so I stayed up to watch thinking that maybe the visuals would help. They did not. It still sounded cacophonous and busy for no reason (and I love cacophony and busyness) so I throw my hands up and leave defeated.

Dancing Choose - TV On The Radio

These bands have all bested me. I just don't get it. what am I missing? Maybe some day these will be my new top three as many of my favorite bands began with me not getting it and handily dismissing them. R.E.M., Neutral Milk Hotel and M. Ward all bored or confused me at first but now I have seen the error of my ways. Perhaps pandas and teenage boozehounds are the Anne Franks and auctioneers of the future.

Let the Saxophonist Have Some

Ween has always been a band that makes people scratch their heads. Some hate them virulently, refusing to believe they are anything more than drug addled, juvenile goofballs who create music with the sole purpose of torturing listeners. Others worship them unequivocally, bowing down at the temple of the Boognish. While not quite as far gone as some, I would have to place myself in the second camp. I love Ween. I first found out about them when "Push the Little Daisies" somehow wrestled its way onto the radio. In an era where King Missile received heavy rotation, I guess I shouldn't be so surprised Ween were allowed on the airwaves too. My college roommate Jimbama later won me over completely when he introduced Chocolate & Cheese to my life. If you can fall in love with "Mr. Would You Please Help My Pony?" you are well on the path to becoming a Ween obsessive.
One thing about this band is that they consistently mystify me and the rest of their fans. They put out an album titled, 12 Golden Country Greats which seemed like a put on but was actually a compilation of country tunes. The fact that there were only 10 songs on the album just intensified the head scratching.
They have Motorhead homages like "It's Gonna be a Long Night" rub up against soft rock gems such as "I Don't Want It" and seem to think there's nothing odd about that. They used the photo to the left as a press photo. With Ween it seems like everything is thrown into a pile and it's up to the listener to sort it out. Good luck to all those willing to try.
For their latest opus, La Cucaracha, they have written a full-fledged Euro-disco club song titled "Friends." But the strangest thing about the song is that it's not even the most confusing inclusion on the album. That honor belongs to the final track, "Your Party." Months after getting the album and listening to it over and over, I still don't know what to make of the song. That's probably the complaint I hear most about Dean and Gene: Are they for real? Are they joking? Is this all some giant prank or do they take this stuff seriously? Honestly, I have no idea and that may be the point but it still doesn't help me make sense of this song. If you have not heard it, please take a listen here.
If you weren't able to tell by the perfect tone of that saxophone, that David Sanborn honking away on this track. David Sanborn! Smooth jazz master. So what's the deal here? Is this a straight faced recording? I find it hard to believe it's simply a joke because I'm sure it cost a bit to get such a marvelous guest star plus who would ask someone to join their album just to hold them up for ridicule? But who actually listens to David Sanborn anyway and do any of them possibly overlap with the demented circle of Ween fanatics? Ween seem to be voracious music addicts but smooth jazz? Everyone has their limits but I have yet to find where Ween's are. If this song is a goof, it's a wonderfully produced and lovingly crafted goof but something about it stinks of sincerity. I'm still unsure of the inspiration and intention of "Your Party" but it doesn't matter. Fans of the band are used to this kind of high weirdness and go along with each strange detour. I love the world Ween live in, one where Sade fans and paint huffers can unite as one, strapping on their jammy pacs and grooving the the sweet sweet sounds of the alto sax.