Hello again....R.I.P. Denim as Cultural Capital

it's been awhile. you look good. do you feel good?

"wherever you go, there you are", as my friend Buckaroo Banzai said.



i totally forgot how jean commercials used to be so "american", "cool" and "sexy". that whole branding concept is gone. I think the the fall of the soviet union, the internet and growing resentment of our fine yet flawed supernation killed the american jean fetish market.

Barack Obama, fix our economy with SEXY COOL JEANS!!!!!

Yup, Vampire Weekend

My friend Alex Klein and I have been arguing about Vampire Weekend for about a year. He thinks they're great, I think they're overblown amateurs. But in an interesting development in our debate, Alex was a bit peeved by a recent NPR review of the band's album, which he thinks ignored the inherent contradiction of a band that sells itself as privileged playing music largely influenced by punk. Here's a bit of what he had to say:

The reviewer emphasized the punk bit (did you listen to the audio version? she plays clips from their album where they're doing the whole "oi oi oi" schitck). But she also seems to celebrate the way this band is self-consciously pitching themselves as the next best thing since Rob Lowe started rocking Ralph Lauren. She didn't even think it was worth remarking on the fact that these guys celebrate richness and privelege by co-opting a musical form that came about as an attempt to celebrate the working class.

I thought that was an interesting point, but I surprisingly find myself (somewhat) backing Vampire Weekend. To play devils' advocate, one could argue that mixing working class musical forms with upper class lyrics is in itself an act of cultural discourse, not co-option. In the article on Vampire Weekednd (VW) in the latest issue of Spin, the keyboardist for VW mentions Jean-Michel Basquiat as a personal hero. Basquiat regularly worked with themes of image, class, race and perception. The interviewer also discusses the singer's experience teaching in Bed-Stuy. No middle/upper class white person teaches in Bed-Stuy without being knowingly forced to deal with class consciousness on a daily basis. I don't think VW take their privilege for granted. I think they are extremely self-conscious of it and of the cultural disconnect between them and their musical influences. I would even venture to say that the band purposely made musical choices in the hopes that these kinds of discussions of class and culture would occur,if for no other reason than it would produce press. But despite their class consciousness, VW still appear to be quite comfortable in their perch of entitlement and are not a "message" band (as opposed to their oft-cited influence, Paul Simon, whose Graceland album was made in part to address political issues in South Africa and the United States.) Politics for VW is a commercially beneficial by-product of the music, as it has been for other “co-opting” bands such as The Police, Talking Heads and The Beastie Boys. VW are simply an indie-pop band using African musical idioms as their mode of delivery and hype. As opposed to someone like Peter Gabriel, who used world music idioms as a means to bring awareness of international politics and injustices. Or a band like Dengue Fever, who are a hyped cambodian pop band using indie-rock idioms as their mode of delivery. But I digress…

An artist can draw from whatever sources they enjoy without feeling obligated to adhere to the source material's context. For example, if I want to sample recordings of slave work songs and put a beat over it, I don't need to add my own commentary on the nature of commerce and race. Likewise, Vampire Weekend do not need to be sympathetic to the ideology of punk or afro-pop in order use their forms. However, the musical technique used in incorporating these musical forms is critical in establishing artistic credibility and success. In other words, the musician (to an extent) must be able to play within the form and demonstrate an understanding of its aesthetic before recontextualizing it.

In the case of punk, I think VW is on solid ground. Contrary to the opinion of NPR and many music critics, most of the guys in VW cannot play their instruments. A lack of musicianship was pretty much the prime prerequisite for punk and was also a large part of its democratizing appeal: the fact that literally anyone could play it. Where VW falter is in their lazy interpretation of African music, and this issue is (ironically) almost entirely due to the drummer’s punk technique. For what I think is a fair comparison, listen to any mid-late 1970s recordings of Elvis Costello and the Attractions. Pete Thomas was by no means a reggae drummer, but he had enough pocket, technique and creativity to incorporate some of reggae’s rhythmic idioms into the songs written by Mr. Costello, which had a jerky punk feel. VW’s drummer doesn’t have the technical facility to successful pull off that kind of alchemy and the result is brutishly crass. The band’s acceptance of this less than academic approach to cultural rhythm speaks more to their entitlement and class than their more easily digestible punk influence. It’s the musical equivalent of watching “The Wire” in a beach house on Cape Cod: a self-serving act that allows for class sympathy while having no real investment in cultural dialogue or change.

The Need for Self-Criticism

My man Taylor Ho Bynum recently posted on some of the finer points of critiquing/commenting on criticism. It is indeed (as Taylor says) a very "meta" occupation. I would add that it's also a nerdy, self-absorbed and extremely subjective writing form.

In other words, perfect for blogging!!!

I say this because yet another recent article has piqued my interest. In this case, it is by infamous New York Press film critic Armond White. I say infamous because he is commonly known to have some, shall we say, unique takes on films. His summary of Joel Schumacher's tepid "Phone Booth" was "Colin Farrell, targeted by a sniper, suffers for our sins. Improper but important." Huh? And then in 2002, after including a Spielberg reference in literally every review that summer ( I was counting,) Mr. White rated "A.I." as one of the top ten films of all time. Like, up there with Citizen Kane and The Godfather.


Generally, any film Mr. White hates is one I (and many other people) will probably enjoy. There are exceptions of course. He gave a positive review to "No Country for Old Men" (as I did, with some reservations.) But he also said in the same review that the Coen Brother's best film so far has been "The Man Who Wasn't There." Again, huh?

Keeping this in mind, I was completely bewildered when I found myself nodding in agreement with Mr. White's article from last week's Press on the overpraise of film director Sidney Lumet. Now generally, I will not harp on this sort of thing (unless it's Vampire Weekend.) While I did not like Lumet's most recent film (also reviewed here,) I have enojoyed some of his past work, including "Dog Day Afternoon," "The Verdict" and "Q and A." But after netflixing Jane Fonda's 80's comeback thriller "The Morning After" (which Lumet directed,) I felt White was well within his bounds to take the director down a notch. Anyone who could helm such a travesty should be taken to task.


Now I know what you're thinking...Jane Fonda 80's comeback thriller, huh? Well besides the kitsch factor, I expected the man who directed the impenetrable "Network" to make a film with taut pacing, a tight plot/structure, good acting and Fonda in hot cougar mode. All I got was the Fondacougar.

After being set-up for a murder, Fonda aimlessly wanders around LA with Jeff Bridges for most of the film. They don't really look for clues or run from any baddies. The odd couple (she's a washed up alcoholic actress, he's a vaguely racist ex-cop) mostly just drive around, yell at each other and drink. In the last scene, a clue finally appears and the crime is solved. The casting of Fonda against type was promising and the Sunset Boulevard-esque subtext was very, uh, meta, but it was a miserable 96 minutes that didn't even have my desired 80's thriller sheen (as found in other flicks of the genre like Fatal Attraction, Black Rain, Year of the Dragon and Sea of Love.)


In addition to White's criticisms (which are more focused on Lumet's dubious rep as a quintessential New York City director) the problem with "The Morning After" and many of Lumet's films is his choice of scripts. When working with a solid writer like David Mamet (The Verdict) or Paddy Chayefsky (Network,) Lumet is a fine craftsman who handles the material with an unadorned efficiency that emphasizes emotional depth and intensity. But he seems to equally choose scripts with middling plotting and uninspired dialogue, perhaps because they contain the themes that he frequently explores (corruption, morality, the infrastructure of power.) In these instances, Lumet does little to edit the material or make stylistic decisions that can help the film. And the results ("The Morning After," "Famiy Business," "Guilty as Sin," "Before the Devil Knows You're Dead") are serviceable at best.

In general, I don't understand how seasoned directors like Lumet, Spielberg (War of the Worlds, anyone?) and Brian DePalma can be so inconsistent after decades of experience in the industry. Perhaps it's an unfair comparison, but I don't think Elvis Costello or Roy Haynes will put out a bad record at this point in their careers. It may not be a great record, but it will certainly not be "The Morning After."