Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Talking to Girls About Duran Duran





And I'm back!  After an absence devoted to job hunting, seasonal retail training (one field in which there will always be jobs, even if only for two months), and generally milling around, I completed the rather lighthearted task of reading Rob Sheffield's new book Talking to Girls About Duran Duran.  Some of you may know Sheffield from his current role as a contributing editor at Rolling Stone; others may have read his previous memoir Love is a Mix Tape; and the rest of you would probably recognize him from his frequent commentary on VH1's I Love [insert decade of choice here] series.

If you happen to be a fan of that I Love the 80s style nostalgia, Talking to Girls About Duran Duran will be right up your alley.  Sheffield takes us through the decade one song at a time, recalling how 80s pop influenced his relationships with the women in his life during his formative years and beyond.  Obviously, Duran Duran plays a key role in Sheffield's development, but he doesn't stop there, devoting chapters to Chaka Khan, Prince, David Bowie, and Hall & Oates, among others.

The book is filled with humorous 80s staples -- bad hair, John Hughes movies, cassingles -- and witty musings on timeless issues such as which artists were able to pull off an authentic 'New Wave' transformation and why one-hit-wonders have risen up to define the decade.  But as anyone who is familiar with his work already knows, Sheffield has a way of brushing aside the stereotypical aspects of pop culture and getting at its real importance -- the way it is intertwined with our lives.  He covers all the bases of essential 1980s artists and describes not just how but why they affected him, and if you're a human being with a pulse, you'll know exactly what he means almost every time.  Really, you don't need to have lived through the 80s to relate to this book -- you just need to have heard a Smiths song at some point in your life.

Sheffield is that greatest of all music journalists, in that he's primarily a fan -- a huge fan -- before anything else.  He openly discusses the imaginary relationships he has (and that we all have) with his favorite musical artists.  He projects his own messed-up issues onto them and admits that the context surrounding a song is often significantly more important to how we perceive it than the song itself.  He's enthusiastic, willing to give just about anything a chance, and perfectly okay with admitting that he really enjoyed seeing Flock of Seagulls live.  We should all aspire to such non-pretentious musical honesty.

For a short sample, check out Salon's excerpt from the book here.  And to see Sheffield's journalistic prowess in action, read his apt review of Kanye West's new album in the latest edition of Rolling Stone.

Saturday, November 6, 2010

Kumail Nanjiani



You guys may have heard this clip from Kumail Nanjiani on This American Life a few months back (because I fully expect that anyone who would be so inclined to read this blog is probably a frequent listener of public radio).  If not, he's certainly worth two minutes of your time.  Anyone who can make a crowd laugh this much by essentially repeating the word "heroin"over and over again has a gift.  To hear Kumail's thoughts on The Elephant Man and racist children, check out this week's absolutely free The Sound of Young America podcast from PRI.

The Secret Sisters

I promised myself I wouldn't be typical and start off this blog with a musical recommendation, but I'm prepared to break that self-imposed rule for the common good.  And that's because The Secret Sisters self-titled debut is so refreshing that it really will turn your frustrated, bored, unemployed frown upside down.  It's that brand of old-timey country that's been sneaking its way back into indie music of late (see Mrs. Jack White's Urban Outfitters-ready debut from earlier this year), but Laura and Lydia Rogers are the genuine article.  Produced by country legend T Bone Burnett and recorded at Nashville's famed Blackbird Studio, The Secret Sisters takes old songs and vintage equipment and makes them sound distinctively new. On each track the Rogers sisters masterfully craft the kind of tight, twangy harmonies made famous by Mother Maybelle & the Carter Sisters in the 30s and 40s and rarely heard in the overproduced world of contemporary country since.




The record primarily consists of traditional and classic songs (such as Do You Love an Apple, seen above), but a few originals, such as the melancholy opener Tennessee Me, prove that these girls have the songwriting chops to back up their powerhouse vocals.

Now I'll admit, I first heard about these girls from a glowing review in Rolling Stone, which I suppose takes their obscurity-based "indie cred" down a few pegs.  But I like to think The Secret Sisters' classic sound and songbook are above such petty matters.  And while torrents of this album have yet to proliferate the interweb, it's available on iTunes for only $8, which is bound to be gentler on your wallet than whatever Queen-of-Monotonous-Pop-Country Taylor Swift is peddling nowadays.  And for a record this solid, well worth the price tag.

Friday, November 5, 2010

Obligatory Introductory Post in which Objectives are Stated


My name is Justine, and I am an unemployed hipster.  A recent graduate of NYU with a degree in Cinema Studies (yikes) and Creative Writing (double yikes), I am, unsurprisingly, struggling to find a job in the current Great Recession wasteland.  In a last ditch effort to save money, I moved home to Southern New Jersey, where I learned that, shockingly, film scholars are not in high demand.  I am a dutiful job hunter - I peruse the usual classified sites daily - but I quickly found that this took an absolutely all time maximum of three hours a day to complete.  

So what to do in the vast abyss of the rest of my day?

Read, Netflix, watch daytime reruns of Say Yes to the Dress.  I've sought solace in the best and worst that American culture has to offer and with no one to share my findings with except my two cats (who really have no appreciation for the finer things in life, with the exception of a well prepared swordfish steak), I've turned to the blogosphere to have my message heard, if only by my most devoted of friends.

So sit back on your couch and get nice and comfy in those sweatpants.  Let's commune together over our favorite things.  Because apparently, we have all the time in the world.