Stairway to Kevin

Daily Cardinal Artists of the Decade #9—Outkast

With “Hey Ya!,” even the scope of the accomplishment was an accomplishment. It was a rap song about sexual politics memorized by blue-haired grandmothers, a pop song written in the exceedingly non-standard 11/4 time that became a smash hit. On a purely sociological level, a purely academic level, a never-actually-needing-to-listen-to-the-song level, “Hey Ya!” is pretty amazing. At least it might be—you’d need to find someone who didn’t hear it within a week of its release to prove it. And “Hey Ya!” was so damned catchy that that poor soul would be, on a purely sociological, academic level, pretty amazing.


The song was a surprise, but it wasn’t any surprise that Outkast was the band to write it. With the possible exception of the White Stripes, they were the only band in a generation to release three consecutive seminal albums. This decade saw the aftermath of the first, 1998’s Aquemini, the duo’s true breakthrough in 2000’s Stankonia, and finally a magnum opus in the “Hey Ya!”-sporting 2003 dual album Speakerboxx/ The Love Below. And through it all, they showed spectacular range. After all, “B.O.B (Bombs Over Baghdad)” was a frantically-rapped, 150+ beats-per-minute track best remembered for a choral hook and for the fact that it wasn’t their most far-reaching success.


Not that Outkast particularly needed to push the envelope of pop-hip hop to produce smart music. Their singles represented the most well-conceived lyricism on the radio dial more than once—even if the line “Shake it like a Polaroid picture” once prompted a Polaroid press release reminding camera owners that Outkast’s advice might cause their photographs’ ink to run. There may never be a song that so perfectly describes the feeling of failure as relationships fall apart as “Ms. Jackson,” Andre 3000’s post-mortem to his relationship with Erykah Badu.


Though Outkast was one of the indispensible bands of the decade, they were perhaps the least likely.  Often cast as a Lennon and McCartney for the millennium, the two were complementary opposites. Antwan “Big Boi” Patton was a grounded genre loyalist tied to the distinct style he helped create. Andre “3000” Benjamin was the dreamer, blending disparate influences into something only barely hip hop. But it was clear they were destined to work together—how else could two literate, extremely talented rappers who like argyle find each other?


Either working together on Stankonia or apart, recording separate disks for Speakerboxxx/Love Below in separate styles, Outkast’s whole was always more than the sum of its parts. The decade ends with Outkast having penned two of its best albums and three (“B.O.B.” “Hey Ya!,” “Ms. Jackson”) of its best singles.

-Joe Uchill, Arts Editor, 2004

Follow the whole list at www.dailycardinal.com/arts

Daily Cardinal Artists of the Decade Honorable Mention—Ryan Adams


While this writer would’ve preferred to see Ryan Adams with a top 10 position on this list, it fits Adams’ critical reputation to see him with an honorable mention ranking. The quality of his output is often derided as inconsistent, and sometimes this label has followed his work unfairly. Indeed, Adams seems to have squandered most of a loyal fan base, already partially formed from solid late-90s work with his group Whiskeytown, by following his classics Heartbreaker (released in 2000 and created with the ridiculously underappreciated duo of Gillian Welch and David Rawlings) and his 2001 breakthrough album Gold (made even stronger with a limited edition bonus disc) with a random-sounding collection of studio outtakes in Demolition (a clunker despite jewels like “Cry on Demand” and “Chin Up, Cheer Up”), the regrettably rockier Rock N Roll, and the overly-hyped label-delayed Love is Hell. By the time Adams formed a permanent backing band and became Ryan Adams and the Cardinals, many were willing to lazily dismiss 2005’s two-disc Cold Roses as predictably inconsistent and rife with filler. A second listen is in order for those who have overlooked this sleeper classic, and those who never even gave the follow up Jacksonville City Nights a try are missing out on one of the finer albums of the decade. His checkered history has caused all reviews for later albums to be introduced by a similar-sounding introduction, but no amount of background can save the rambling and boring 29, or the pleasant but predictable Easy Tiger and Cardinology. Nevertheless, a good Ryan Adams album is a great album, and this writer is optimistic that we haven’t seen his decline yet.

-Ben Redding, Arts Editor, 2001

Track the whole list at www.dailycardinal.com/arts

Because I like you guys, we’ll be running 2 (count ‘em, 2) honorable mentions for the Daily Cardinal’s Top Artists of the Decade list today. Plus, of course, we’ll have #9 for all of you to enjoy.

Daily Cardinal Top Artists of the Decade Honorable Mention—Interpol

It is rare to find an album that is a masterpiece all the way through, especially in these days of one-song downloads.One album that is solid from start to finish is Turn on the Bright Lights by Interpol. From the driving guitar of “Obstacle 1” to the complex musical artistry of Leif Erikson, Interpol brings the otherwise stagnant rock scene to a new level. If you take away the pop aspects of the Strokes and replace it with more math-rock and a pinch of New Order, you will get Interpol. The band is able to mix dark lyrics and chord progressions with catchy rhythms resulting in a sound that puts a modern twist on first-wave synthesizer rock (think Depeche Mode). Interpol’s second album, Antics, is a fitting sequel to Turn on the Bright Lights. The tracks on Antics achieve something that many albums fail to do by duplicating the quality of the first album yet adding some variety to avoid repetition and disappointing the audience. Interpol deserves a mention in the discussion of the best bands of the decade due to their unique songwriting, obscure yet familiar melodies, innovative style and sound, and their longevity in a time of one-hit wonders.

-Heather Mendygral, Arts Editor, 2001

Follow the whole list at www.dailycardinal.com/arts

24-10 Saints.

walex:

feelingfeisty:

walex:

feelingfeisty:

Hyperventilating.

Isn’t it magical?

They say that an angel gets its wings every time the Patriots lose.

I decided to follow you solely based on this comment. ;)

That. Is. Awesome. Thank you!

Love your posts btw

Oh those silly Patriots, can’t even make a field goal anymore.

Bah, what do you Canadians know about American football anyways… :)

thehoulywoodreporter:

D-Day: War’s over, man. Wormer dropped the big one.
Bluto: Over? Did you say “over”? Nothing is over until we decide it is! Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor? Hell no!
Otter: Germans?
Boon: Forget it, he’s rolling.
Bluto: And it ain’t over now. ‘Cause when the goin’ gets tough…
[thinks hard]
Bluto: the tough get goin’! Who’s with me? Let’s go!
[runs out, alone; then returns]
Bluto: What the fuck happened to the Delta I used to know? Where’s the spirit? Where’s the guts, huh? This could be the greatest night of our lives, but you’re gonna let it be the worst. “Ooh, we’re afraid to go with you Bluto, we might get in trouble.” Well just kiss my ass from now on! Not me! I’m not gonna take this. Wormer, he’s a dead man! Marmalard, dead! Niedermeyer…
Otter: Dead! Bluto’s right. Psychotic, but absolutely right. We gotta take these bastards. Now we could do it with conventional weapons that could take years and cost millions of lives. No, I think we have to go all out. I think that this situation absolutely requires a really futile and stupid gesture be done on somebody’s part.
Bluto: We’re just the guys to do it.
D-Day: Let’s do it.
Bluto: *Let’s do it*!

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
33 plays

musichistory:

“On Wisconsin” (with intro) by William T. Purdy [1909] performed by the University of Wisconsin Marching Band [1990].

More UW-Madison music history!

100 years ago, William Purdy wrote a march to submit in a contest to select the official fight song for the University of Minnesota football team. An alumnus of the University of Wisconsin, Minnesota’s biggest rival then and now, convinced Purdy to instead offer the march to Wisconsin. Wisconsin recognized the sheer awesomeness of the song immediately and accepted the offer. The winner of the song contest at Minnesota was the very average “Minnesota Rouser,” which remains the school’s fight song.

“On Wisconsin” has since become one of the most ubiquitous fight songs mostly because hundreds of high schools have adapted it for their own use. One high school to do so was Hawthorne High School in Hawthorne, California. The Wilson brothers and Al Jardine, four-fifths (4/5) of The Beach Boys, attended Hawthorne High and included a few measures of “On Wisconsin” into “Be True to Your School,” a Top Ten hit from autumn 1963.

A version of “On Wiscosin” also appears in the 1973 Disney animated film Robin Hood in association with Friar Tuck, who appears as a badger. USC’s “Fight On” plays during a different fight scene, when the action mimics a football game.

In my (slightly biased) opinion, “On Wisconsin” stands among the best college fight songs. My Top 5, in no particular order, are “On Wisconsin,” “Fight On” (USC), “Hail to the Victors” (Michigan), “Notre Dame Victory March,” and “Fight for LSU.” If we need to choose one, though, we can simply look to the March King, John Philip Sousa, who declared that “On Wisconsin” is “the finest of college marching songs.” On Wisconsin for another century!

Well said.

Daily Cardinal Artists of the Decade: #10—Animal Collective

Animal Collective is a group of musical experimentalists who, since their inception in 2000, have never lost sight of the fun inherent in bending genre conventions. This four-person (temporarily whittled down to three-person) band approaches avant-garde indie pop not as a formal artistic task, but as children playing with the toys they love best—which in their case are indie pop, freak folk, tribal rhythms and Beach Boys-styled harmonies. This is a group so musically adept that they can significantly alter their sonic palate without losing their identities. Yet they are not chameleons: It’s not that they change their character with each new release, they simply turn their concerns toward a different but equally fulfilling corner of their idiosyncratic world of pop.

In their formative years, the Baltimore-based group of friends released several albums not explicitly attributed to Animal Collective but nevertheless counted as canonical AC by many fans. Their first few efforts were credited to the whimsical aliases of each member—for instance, their first record, Spirit They’re Gone, Spirit They’ve Vanished, is credited to Avey Tare and Panda Bear. It wasn’t until 2003’s Here Comes the Indian that they started going formally by Animal Collective.

By the mid-2000s people had started taking notice of Animal Collective’s marriage of psych-folk and organic, layered harmonies. Their pitch-perfect vocal interplay (and often indiscernible lyrics) suggests the Beach Boys sitting around a campfire slightly soused and casually harmonizing with each other for the pure joy of music (hell, these guys even have an album called Campfire Songs, suggesting they’re fully aware of the impression they leave with the listener). For instance, the 12-minute “Visiting Friends” on 2004’s Sung Tongs finds the group indulging in some acoustic guitar noodling with looped backward voices that bring to mind what Necronomicon from “The Evil Dead” might sound like on a lazy Sunday.

The 2005 record Feels was in many ways AC’s breakthrough album, transforming them from an acclaimed fringe band to a group critics could no longer ignore without seeming totally out of touch with contemporary avant-pop. It was also a breakthrough in terms of approach, making clear that AC weren’t constrained by the freak folk genre they were usually lumped in with. On Feels, they were as comfortable with the fractured, rollicking pop/rock of “Grass” as they were with the baroque summertime hallucination of “Bees.” They weren’t merely some of folk’s most talented weirdos, they were some of the best artists America had to offer.

This year, the now-New York-based group released one of their most fulfilling efforts, Merriweather Post Pavilion, which was clearly inspired by Panda Bear’s uber-acclaimed solo release, Person Pitch. As good as that record was, Merriweather proved AC works better as a tribe by fleshing out Person Pitch’s meandering Brian Wilson and Phil Spector homages with flawlessly constructed pop songs—“My Girls,” “Summertime Clothes” and “Brother Sport”—and adding some dancefloor muscle to the mix.

I saw Animal Collective perform in the Catskills earlier this year, and midway through their joyous set I realized I was witnessing something I would not have believed possible back in 2005. Here were scores of people shaking and shimmying to Animal Collective like they were at a Girl Talk concert—fans were even pumping their fists into the air like rabid Bon Jovi fans. These guys have turned into the idiosyncratic masters of pop they always threatened to become, but more amazingly, they have done it without sacrificing a note of their eccentricity and creativity.

It remains to be seen whether they will keep fording the rivers of psych-tribal-dance-pop weirdness or retreat back to the familiar experimentalism of Strawberry Jam, but nothing can change the fact that Animal Collective has been the most uncompromising, inventive musical collective of this last decade.

-Joe Lynch, D.C. Arts Editor, 2006

Daily Cardinal Artists of the Decade Honorable Mention #1: Andrew W.K.

He likes to party. That’s an easy and totally accurate way to describe Andrew W.K. But the full truth of the man as an artist and performer is delightfully layered. After all, it’s hard to define a guy who combines his classically trained piano skills with his love of heavy metal and Max Martin’s productions of Backstreet Boys music. How many artists would hit themselves in the face with a brick for their album cover photo? How many artists can go from Ozzfest to the motivational speaking circuit? How many artists’ debut albums could feature songs called “It’s Time to Party,” “Party Hard,” and “Party Til You Puke”? W.K. peaked with that anthemic first album, 2001’s I Get Wet, as his follow-up, The Wolf, was redundant and disappointing. His most recent album, 55 Cadillac, is a collection of car-themed piano instrumentals. But as a man who really knows his way around music and studio recording and is hell-bent on making party music, and as an energetic performer so fiercely affectionate to his fans that he famously signed autographs from the ambulance after breaking his foot onstage, he is easily among the most interesting and memorable artists of the decade. Party hard, Andrew W.K.

-Amos Posner, D.C. Arts Editor, 2003

My favorite time of the year is here

I’m not talking about fall, winter, spring or summer either… I’m talking about list season. December means that every publication around begins to publish year-end lists on myriad topics.

We’re running our own list at The Cardinal for the rest of the semester, tracking the Top 10 bands of the decade. So, to coincide with the release of our list, I plan to make two posts a day, one for the actual artist we chose for the list and one band or artist that received an honorable mention.

We’ll kick the list off with #10, and today’s official honorable mention!

95% of teens would cry if they saw EDWARD CULLEN standing on top of a sky scraper about to jump. If you are one of the 5% who would sit there eating pop corn saying"DO A FLIP!!" REBLOG

abreathofwater:

To bad Edward is a vampire and invincible and if he jumped off a sky scraper nothing would happen to him… just saying…

Ok, this is what happens when any site on the Internet gets too popular. Chain letters. Motherfucking chain letters.

Whether it was an email to your hotmail account sent to 100 other people through Altavista, an instant message on AIM that got copy-pasted so that your crush would like you, or a petition expressed via a group on Facebook, motherfucking chain letters ruin everything.

I won’t even begin to describe everything else wrong with this equation here… just… no.