Sunday Morning Coming Down #Nineteen


• "What Bosley Crowther and his fellow guardians of culture got so wrong was this: that far from being a spoof of Beatlemania, A Hard Day’s Night was Beatlemania. The targets of the film’s satire were the Crowthers of the world: those who regarded the group and its fans as something to be ignored or condescended to when they were acknowledged at all." Charles Taylor celebrates the wit and surrealism of A Hard Day's Night for the L.A. Review Of Books.

• "The interns can collectively catalog about 500 records per day — a Sisyphean rate, as it happens, because Freitas has been burying them with new acquisitions. Between June and November of last year, more than a dozen 40-foot-long shipping containers arrived, each holding more than 100,000 newly purchased records. Though the warehouse was originally the home of his second business — a company that provides sound and lighting systems for rock concerts and other big events — these days the sound boards and light booms are far outnumbered by the vinyl." Zero Freitas has a bigger vinyl problem than you do, as Monte Reel reports for the New York Times Magazine.

• "Friday’s event was structured like a tennis championship: quarterfinals, semifinals, finals. And yet (as in a Memphis jookin battle) each individual match evoked the solemn anger of a formal duel. Dancer A addressed his performance like a furious outburst — confrontationally, at very close quarters — at Dancer B, who watched without losing his cool, or even pretended not to watch." Alastair Macaulay reports on Detroit Jit for the New York Times.

• "The main reason why the industry is moving toward a global street date -- instead of letting each territory pick the day that they feel is best for their respective markets, which is the way it works now -- is to cut down on global piracy." The Industry may shift from Tuesdays to Fridays or they may not, as reported by Billboard.

• "Both videos arrived at a moment when Nashville songwriter Meghan Trainor's "All About That Bass," a body-positive banger about "that boom-boom that all the boys chase," was unexpectedly sitting pretty near the top of the Billboard charts, vindicating Trainor's Timberlakeian proclamation that she'd be "bringing booty back." Just like sexy itself, booty never really has gone away in the club-centric chart pop of the past decade, but this week's triumphant triumvirate has definitely raised higher the freak flag planted in pop music's posterior. I'm pleased to declare it, ladies and germs: Welcome to the Summer of Ass." Carl Wilson debuts a new weekly-plus column at SPIN.

• "Despite being as young or younger than, say, the Slits, Bush seemed Old Wave: she belonged with the generation of musicians who had emerged during the 1960s ("boring old farts", as the punk press called them). Some of these BOFs were indeed her mentors, friends, and collaborators: David Gilmour, Peter Gabriel and Roy Harper. Growing up, her sensibility was shaped by her older brothers, in particular the musical tastes and spiritual interests of Jay, 13 years her senior and a true 60s cat. Punk often sneered at "art" as airy-fairy, bourgeois self-indulgence, but its ranks were full of art-school graduates and this artiness blossomed with the sound, design and stage presentation of bands such as Wire and Talking Heads. Yet Bush's music seemed the wrong kind of "arty": ornate rather than angular, overly decorative and decorous." Simon Reynolds considers Queen of Art-Pop Kate Bush and her fickle critics for The Guardian.

• The 200 Best Pitchfork Articles Of The Decade So Far, courtesy of Zach Schonfeld.

• "'Adolescence was sure tough," says Dee Dee. Adds Tommy, "Especially when you don't grow out of it."" R.I.P. to the great Charles M. Young, who wrote many a fine rock crit piece ("Rock Is Sick And Living In London" ring a bell?), including this August 1976 Ramones feature for Rolling Stone.

• "It’s no secret that Ms. Parton is a patron saint of drag queens. Her look, she has said, is patterned after the bleached hair and red lipstick of the town tramp, whom she admired. It both embraces and mocks the best and worst of high country glamour and feminine features. Ms. Parton likes to joke that if she hadn’t been born female, she would have ended up a drag queen. She even entered a drag contest once in Santa Monica — and lost badly. Over dinner recently, a friend of mine who grew up as a gay teenager in North Carolina talked about how she and her friend, who identified themselves back then as “queer punks,” would drive to Dollywood just to party in the parking lot." The country/gay nexus that is Dollywood, as reported by Kim Severson for the New York Times.

• "I say the James Brown story damn well ought to be disquieting, especially if the disquiet is both eased and complicated by how funny it is. Along with most of the audience, I couldn't help laughing both with and at Brown's audacity, and at the impossible fact that such a man not only existed but could be re-created on the screen." Robert Christgau gets on the good foot praising James Brown biopic 'Get On Up' for Billboard.

• "American and British fans of Jamaican music might think that the island is entirely obsessed with its main exports of tough dub, righteous reggae, and raunchy dancehall, but there's a softer side to Trenchtown as well. "Americans have a general idea that Jamaican music was like an island version of American black music—that it followed the same pathways from jazz (ska) to soul (rocksteady) to hip-hop (dancehall)," writes Jeremy Freeman, owner of Deadly Dragon Sound, the revered reggae record shop on NYC's Lower East Side. "But this isn't really true. There's also this love of harmony and ballads that made groups like Air Supply, REO Speedwagon, and Journey so popular in Jamaican music." As proof of Jamaica's love of vocal harmonies, he offers a crucial example: "There are endless Beatles covers and hardly any Rolling Stones covers."" Jamaica wakes the town for Air Supply, as told by Andy Beta for Deadspin / The Concourse.

•  "Gemütlichkeit is a truly German concept. It’s as central to and descriptive of the mass psychology of the German mind as Wabi-Sabi is to the Japanese. English translations are woefully inadequate, such as “cosiness” and “snugness”. Gemütlichkeit is actually nearer to a state of comfort derived from the world around you being in peaceful order. Neat, organised, spotless, untroubled, static, cool, calm, collected environments produce Gemütlichkeit as much as a favourite duvet. It is the drive in so much of this music too. Kraftwerk’s work oozes Gemütlichkeit from the sound of the snare drum to the stitching on Florian’s shoes. It shines, with a beatific smile from the visionary calm of Popol Vuh. It sits us comfortably at the wheel of the Neu! motor as chords and clusters gently pass by. But this calm also reeks of the aims of the parents of this generation, it turns a blind eye to the atrocities they committed and this is where the great heaps of smashed detritus fall from the ceiling in much of this music." Going beyond motorik, Jono Podmore reviews 'Future Days' for Getintothis.

•  "A friend of mine, an Irish artist named Don Baker, is into blues and he said to me, this is a good time to start investigating blues. So I did, and I instantly fell in love. I’d been aware of blues before then, but I went on a journey. I became very interested in watching live performances on YouTube. I didn’t want to deal with the types of people I would have to deal with in order to stay in the business. It can be ugly — a very vampiric arena. But the blues were a great blessing. It’s all I listen to and all I watch before I go on stage. Howlin’ Wolf became my performing idol. In a way I think there has always been some male artist, like Bob Dylan or Van Morrison or Buddy Guy, who are musical godfathers to me, I suppose is the best way to put it. You can follow them along the road and they keep you alive as a musician." Sinéad O’Connor tells Stephen Deusner who's the boss at Salon.